#that friend i had a gut feeling about it was over w

[switchytransboy]

everybody fucking leaves

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

[cinnamon-galaxies]

Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends

Dad beat Fiancé beat Dad

Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader

Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language!

Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents.

Wordcount: 5.4k

A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!

“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…”   You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…

Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”

   “Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”

   Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”

   Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”

   You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”

   That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”

   Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone. 

   “Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter… 

   “Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.

   “Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.

   “Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”

   You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”

   Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.

Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...

You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”

   “Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”

   You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.

   When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.

   “You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.

   “Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”

   “Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”

   “Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.

   You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.

   “Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.

   “Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”

   “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”

   “He’s the king of hell, darling.”

   “And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”

   He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.

   “Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.

   You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”

   “Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.

   “She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.

   He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.

   Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.

   “We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.

   “Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”

   You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”

   After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.

   "Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

   “It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.

   When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.

   “Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.

   You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

   The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.

   “What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.

   “It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.

   A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

   “And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.

   You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little. 

   “Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.

   This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

   You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.

   “Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”

   Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.

   Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.

   Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”

   “Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.

   Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”

   “Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.

   “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?

   “He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.

   You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”

   “Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”

   Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!

   You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.

   Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.

   “You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.

   “Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.

   You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”

   Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

   “Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.

   Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”

   You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.

   Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

   “Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.

   Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”

   You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.

   Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.

   You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.

   You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.

   You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict… 

   “Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.

   Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.

   Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.

   You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.

   “That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”

   “No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”

   “Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.

   “Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”

   “You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.

   “And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.

   “You know nothing, you prick!”

   “Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”

   “How do you dare question my commitment?”

   “At least I care for your daughters.”

   “Oh you tacky little piece of–!”

You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”

 you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”

   “Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.

   “No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”

   Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”

   Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.

   “Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.

   You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”

   “What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.

   “Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”

   Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.

   You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.

   “I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”

   Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.

   “Yes. Please.”

   Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.

   Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.

   “So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.

   “Stop it, Angel.”

   The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.

   You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.

   Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”

   He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”

*****

[dreamingonfilm]

✧˖*°࿐ Love Letters | d.m

Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff

Summary: In which Draco tries to find the girl who sends him love letters, unaware to the fact that it’s you.

W/C: 1.5k

Draco’s fingers traced over the writing on the pink envelope once again. His mind was not able to rest as he tried to piece together who left the note on his bedside in the middle of the night. Delicately opening it once more, he reread the words inside;

Draco, 

I hope you can learn to see yourself the way that I see you, with love and acceptance. You are what makes everyday worth it. Constellations are named after you, and each day I can’t help but to be thankful for the sun breathing on you once more. You are my light.

He carefully closed the envelope and placed it inside his bag. ‘They like me.’ the boy thought to himself, ‘someone actually likes me.’ 

It’s not that the boy was a stranger when it comes to love, but never once has he been perceived as something more than what he truly is. He’s always been Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy throne, son of Lucius, and most importantly a Slytherin. For this reason, he constantly rejected any advances that came from the female students around him. While his rejections came off as rude and cold-hearted, the other students failed to see that Draco, just like everyone else around him, was human too. He was scared of being hurt by the one feeling that he craved the most. 

The walk to class was almost unbearable, he couldn’t stop thinking about the letter. He wanted to know the poet behind those beautiful words, the ones that kept repeating over and over in his head as he tried stirring potions or taking notes. You are what makes everyday worth it. He became hyper aware of his surroundings, assuming that he would know when he sees her, but he failed to realize that she was not someone that could be so easily spotted. She came exactly when you needed her to, not by desire alone.

—-

“Draco,” his friend Blaise called to him, “focus.”

“Oh, right.” Draco replied, trying to get his thoughts together as he walked back to his seat. It was the middle of the school week and his mind was only getting more crowded with the thoughts of her. As he sat back down, his friends swarmed him with questions as to what it was that he smelled in his amortentia, assuming that this would be the first step to finding her.

“I can’t describe it.” He sighed, running a hand through his platinum hair in defeat. “She has me going crazy and I don’t even know her.” 

“Well,” Pansy spoke up, “I suggest maybe moving on? I mean, if she wants to be anonymous it may be for a reason. Plus, you have hundreds of other girls that would kill to be with you, Draco. Maybe try your luck somewhere else.” She flashed him a sincere smile before going in to hold his hand, but her efforts were cut short as the boy suddenly stood up. 

“I don’t want to be with anyone unless it’s her.” He sneered, shaking his head as he turned around and started heading straight to the door. He said a hushed goodbye to his friends before exiting into the crowded hall.

Why couldn’t his friends see that he didn’t want anyone else? He didn’t care about her wealth, status, or looks, all that he wanted was someone that could love him in full. Love him in a way that can’t be tamed, a love that lives long after they do. This was something that he knew he wasn’t going to find any time soon, for as long as he was at Hogwarts he could only be Draco Malfoy.

His hopes were on her.

He walked through the hall, pushing through students that stood in his way as he asserted dominance with a ray of confidence and high ego. Students glared at him but none had the guts to say anything, this fear that Draco instilled was not one that was going to go away any time soon. It was one that he brought upon himself and now had to live with. Somewhere in between his daydreams and the crowded corridor, he felt someone bump into him. Their shoulders collided as his books fell to the floor. The stranger mumbled a quick apology before running off.

In the midst of his anger, he froze. He smelt it. That same scent that clouded him only a few minutes before. There it was, it was her, but just as quickly as he smelled it, she was gone. Only seeing her hair as she turned at the corner of the hallway. 

He quickly got up and chased after her, pushing and shoving anyone that got in his way. This was his chance, he was finally going to meet the girl that’s been making him mad, the one that he’s been dreaming of. His heart was pounding as he ran faster and faster down the hall, students staring at him in confusion as he was passing them by, quills and journals flying out of his bag –  but he didn't care, he couldn’t let her get away.

Once he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sensation of defeat. His heart crushed as he stared into the empty hallway.

—- 

Two weeks have passed since the day that Draco and her collided. He sat in his bed, holding a brand new letter. The same shade of pink as the one before, with the handwriting that he’s fallen in love with. 

“Draco, 

I’m sorry for not writing to you. I’ve been thinking of you every day, and I just can’t bear to keep dreaming of you without letting you know that I’m sorry for bumping into you in the hallway. The truth is, I’m scared, Draco.

I’m scared you aren’t going to like me for who I am. I’m scared that writing to you was a mistake. I’m scared that the only way you will ever see me is through these letters. I see you every day, why can’t you see me? 

You’re always in my heart, shining above me every night, my constellation. If we remain strangers forever, just know that I’ve never come to love someone like how I love you.”

He was getting restless. Constant possibilities of who it could be running through him, he even considered the possibility that this could be a prank, but no amount of doubt could prevent him from finding her, his hope overpowered all the fear that he had.

Draco sat up once more and started getting ready for dinner. Brushing his hair and straightening out his tie, he needed to look presentable for the off chance that he could be meeting her today. 

He headed down into the Great Hall and that’s when he saw it. A pink envelope in the hands of a girl he’s never talked to, but not just any girl, it was you.

He shouted out into the void, but he wasn’t quick enough. “Hey wait!” he called out, as you quickly grabbed your things and ran off once more. He couldn’t see you like this, it wasn’t the right time. Your face flushed red as you ran, your breathing quickening as your legs started to grow tired, but you could not let him find you. 

Draco chased after you, he was only a few feet behind but with enough determination you knew you could lose him. As you sprinted through the maze of halls, you started to grow light headed, you knew that if you didn’t stop soon you would faint. 

But it’s not the right time 

You stopped in front of a random classroom, rushing to open the door before he could catch up to you, but it was too late. He crashed into you, both of you falling to the ground with a loud thump, his hands landing on either sides of you as you laid in between him.

He finally found you. 

“Who are you?” He asked, not wasting any more time to get to know the girl who stole his heart. You stared into his eyes, feeling a frog in your throat as you mustered up the courage to finally talk to him.

“M-my name is (Y/N).” You whispered, neither of you breaking eye contact. He smiled, grabbing hold of your hands as he went to pick you both up. You were both nervous, too scared of saying the wrong things, but wanting to say them all regardless.

“(Y/N),” he repeated, looking at you with a face full of love and adoration, “I’m Draco.” 

He brushed your hair with his fingers and went to pat the dust off your shoulders. You didn’t know what to say or do, but you didn’t have to.

This was the right time.

 “Come along then (Y/N),” Draco smiled, interlocking his hand in yours before leading you back down to the Great Hall, “we have a lot of catching up to do.”

[misserabella]

omg!!!! can we pleaseeee get a part 2 of come over w abby it was literally the best thing i have EVER read ilysm for making that, i didn’t know i needed it until nowhdjjsh <33333

come now

pt1 (come over)

synopsis; abby ran away. but she couldn’t keep herself away from you for too long.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, party, drinking, smoking, drug usage (weed), mentions of other girls, jealousy, hickeys, teasing, arguing, public! touching, kissing, making out, hate and needy sex, tit and nipple play, dom! abby x sub! reader, fingering (r! receiving), cursing, hair pulling, chocking, strap on usage (r receiving), recording with phone, cum eating, mommy kink, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, praising, praise kink, possessiveness, squirting…

you can feel her eyes on you. you were sweaty, dancing in between that pile of college students that needed a getaway for the weekend. you had so much alcohol on your veins, mind fuzzy and skin warm. she looked good. with a pair of green cargo pants and a tight fucking black shirt. her shiny blonde hair was down on her back, and in between her fingers stood a blunt, a glass filled with alcohol on the other hand. she was resting against a wall, two of her friends talking.

she was supposed to be paying attention, but she couldn’t catch a word when you looked like that. the party was filled with pretty girls of all years, but jesus christ, none of them took her breath away like you did.

after that night, in which she had finally been able to make you moan her name, to have you on her sheets, she had ran away, leaving before you would wake up to god knows where. now it had been a week, a week in which you’d seen abby with all types of girls.

you couldn’t help but scoff at it. of course. you were furious. confused. but at the same time you couldn’t help but want to kick yourself. it had been that easy. as easy as a little call and she’d had you dicked down. had she lied? had she just used you? you were pretty much the last girl she had not yet fucked from the whole school. maybe she just wanted to complete the list. well, now it seems like you were just one more of them.

your whole body had burned. snapping at ellie when she’d dared as ask what had happened. you couldn’t tell her that you had fucked abby anderson, even less that you had liked it.

you were burning up.

your pride eating at you to not stare. to forget about that night. and you had tried. tried multiple nights to forget about her, but al you could do would be roll on your sheets with the reminder of her touch. of her tongue.

you could cum with her name on your tongue. it was awfully easy. and you hated her to her guts for it.

abby did too. she had caved fucking in. she had gone and fucked you. she had promised herself she wouldn’t. ever. you were trouble. you made her feel things she didn’t like to feel. you made her smile when no one else was watching with your little stupidities —she was always staring at you, you just wouldn’t see it—, and made her want to punch herself at the many times you left her awake not being able to take you out of her head.

she could still remember the jealousy of the first years of high school. when cute boys and girls would approach you. she so knew you should be hers. but she was supposed to hate you. she had to. she couldn’t like you. not you. you couldn’t give her butterflies and make her go weak in the knees with just a smile. she wouldn’t have it. wouldn’t accept it.

but you had cracked her. you seem good at it.

the thought of ellie williams in between your legs, her fucking place, had made it impossible to not beg you to come to her. to tell you what she felt. she needed you. and each day, each second was torture. she was meant to break. you had broke her.

with your sweet fucking voice begging for her, your soft moans and your taste. she had tasted heaven. a very dangerous drug. and she couldn’t get addicted.

of course. she had girls asking for one night everywhere, but not even the prettiest one of them all could make her forget about you.

at how beautiful you’d sounded. how good you had taken her cock and made her cum.

she couldn’t ignore you. couldn’t fucking make herself turn to who she was before it all.

your dress was rilling up, soft plush of your thighs showing for her hungry eyes. there was alcohol shining on your lips. and she wanted to lick it off. she was high out of her mind.

but she knew. she knew she couldn’t go another day without it all.

you looked so hot on your tiny dress and high heels, sweat shining on the skin that she had branded before. she wandered if you worn anything underneath. if you’d gone out to try and drip for someone else.

she couldn’t help it. she wasn’t really paying attention to the girl that had been staring and talking to her through the whole night. her eyes were on you, and that fucking girl.

you didn’t knew where your friends were, you didn’t actually care with the buzz in your head and the soft kisses that some girl was leaving on your neck. her hair was soft, short, brown. and her eyes were dark. she was beautiful. and you were desperate. it was easy to fall on her arms with the need to forget abby.

but suddenly. there was that pine scent, and those warm hands gripping your hips. you felt on your back the hum of a harsh “go.” and next thing you knew was that ava was disappearing.

your blood was boiling as you turned around to face anderson. abigail fucking anderson. with her hooded eyes, sharp jaw and big arms. the alcohol was quickly evaporating from your blood. you pushed away. “what the fuck anderson?”

“anderson?” she inquired. “what happened to ‘abby’?” she smirked and you rolled your eyes. “i liked that better.” she leaned in, and you gasped when she got a grip on your hips, pulling you against her. “even more when you were moaning it.” your body shivered at her words, warm on your ear. “who’s the girl, hm?” she inquired, and you scoffed.

“could ask you the same, don’t you think?” she gritted her teeth, and you looked into her eyes. she was staring at the hickeys decorating your neck.

“what? you jealous sweetheart?” she inquired you, and your stomach jumped at the nickname. you could remember her telling you to cum, fucking you harsh and deep. ‘why don’t you come all over my dick, hm? let me see you fall apart.’

your cunt throbbed, and you felt your slick pooling in between your lips. fuck. no. not again.

“i’m not the one coming back to you.” you muttered on her face. and you saw a vein pop on her neck. suddenly, there was a a harsh grip cupping your jaw. she was close. so close you could almost taste the weed off of her lips.

“careful.” she warned, voice low. so low your knees almost wobbled, your throat almost got ripped with a whine.

“or what? you’re gonna beg?” you pushed her. again. just a little further. just a little more. and that’s all she needed to finally do something about it.

the hand on your jaw circled your neck, tugging you against her lips. she groaned on your mouth, and you whimpered, her tongue pushing inside as her fingers left bruises on your hip. the kiss was angry. all teeth and tongue. she felt the same. she still made your hands shake as you pulled on her hair, still made your chest tighten up and your stomach drop.

“fucking brat.” she growled, kissing down your neck, biting over the hickeys glowing on your skin. she needed to put hers over them.

“fucking dick.” you answered.

“yeah, i’m sure you miss mine, huh?” she chuckled on your ear. “fucking you open. you looked so pretty crying on it. so sweet begging…” you moaned, your hips thrusting against hers, feeling the bulge of her strap under the denim.

“shut the fuck up.” you seethed.

“why don’t you make me, pretty girl?”

you did as soon as your mouth was crashing against hers. she grunted, biting down on your lip.

“oh fuck abby.”

“was killing me seeing you with that girl. couldn’t stop thinking about her fucking you like i did, getting the chance to see how good you look when you cum, make you cry…was driving me crazy.” she confessed, making you whimper. “just wanted to come here and fuck you with my fingers. show her and everyone here who you belong to.” you moaned, her teeth nibbling at your neck, her free hand now on stomach, trailing down your stomach. “you’d like that baby?” you nodded. “i beg you would.” you whinedwhen her hand cupped your throbbing and dripping cunt. the distance in between you so little no one could see as she pushed your panties aside, thick fingers spreading your lips and glistening in your arousal. “fuuck. you’re soaked, doll.” she smirked, at the gasp you let out, at the way your thighs clenched. “is it for me?” she inquired and you nodded. “words.”

“yes, abby, fuck…”you sighed, your hips thrusting against her touch.

“upstairs.” she ordered, tugging from your hand and making you whimper when her fingers left you. she was quick to find an empty room on the second floor, pulling you inside and closing the door. it felt like the next breath you took came from her lips. she tasted like weed and alcohol. so sweet and bitter.

“take this off.” you begged, pulling from her black shirt, and she was quick to push it over her head, toned stomach and chest exposed for you to see, her tits perfectly cupped by her sports bra.

“you’re drooling.” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“shut up and fuck me.”

“fuck i missed you.” she muttered against your lips, and you whined. “you and that fucking mouth of yours…” her tongue pushed against yours, spit dribbling down your chin as you let her pull from your dress, leaving you in a cute set of lingerie that had her almost falling to her knees.

you were pulling and pushing at each other, ending up on the double bed, your legs at either sides of her thighs, straddling her lap.

her hands where on your hips, her lips on your breasts. you were grinding down against her, looking for some kind of friction, relief.

“wasn’t the other girls enough?” you teased her, although you needed her so bad you were hurting. in answer she pushed down your bra, taking one of your nipples into her mouth as she left a harsh spank on your ass.

“watch your mouth.”

“watch yours. last time it ended on my pussy.”

she scoffed, and now she was pushing your panties aside, fingers meeting the amount of slick that now soaked your cunt. you hissed. “you mean this pussy? the one dripping for me?” all breath got punched out of your lungs when she harshly and suddenly plunged inside two of her fingers, starting to quickly thrust and curl into you, hitting your g spot over and over again. you moaned. “what?” she teasingly asked, looking at the way your mouth hung open and your eyes squeezed shut. “what was that?” she smirked, seeing how easy you became a babbling mess for her. the wet squelches of your pussy filled her ears. you were so tight and so warm inside. “that’s what i thought.” she whispered against your chest, biting and sucking one of your nipples.

“oh fuck abby.” you cried out. you were already so fucking close it was embarrassing, hips thrusting against her fingers so they could reach deeper.

“this is my pussy, not yours. you hear? mine.” she growled, and you moaned. “say it. tell me it’s mine.”

“it’s yours, abby. yours. fuck!”

she cooed. “look at you. what is it, princess? so obedient… got the brat fucked out of you?” you whimpered, feeling your walls fluttering, your g spot being tortured by her thick fingers. “you’re so close already… so close to cumming all over my fingers, aren’t you baby?” you nodded. “come on, be a good girl and give it to me.” you let out this low moan as you followed her words, soaking her fingers in white strings that made her groan. “that’s it. atta girl…” so warm… she fucked you through it, making you make this little choked out sounds that had her soaking her boxers.

you were a mess, all flushed and droopy fucked eyes with glossy bitten lips, watching as she pulled her fingers out and pushed them inside her mouth, humming at the taste. you pulled from her, kissing her, her tongue letting you get a taste of yourself. she turned the two of you around, and one of your hands palmed her strap, making its back bump against her clit and her groan. you kissed her neck, biting and sucking on her skin. “oh fuck.” she sighed, bucking her hips onto your touch.

“abby, fuck me please…” you tugged from her pants, and she nodded —you didn’t need to ask her twice, she was almost panting at the thought of fucking your pussy on her cock—, kissing you as she quickly got rid of her pants and underwear, the strap already on and low on her hips. it was big, and had a lot of ridges. you almost drooled.

she didn’t wait to align herself with your entrance, lubing the tip of the strap with your cum to push inside. your back arched, the sting of her cock stretching you out inch by inch making you let out this beautiful whimper that had abby feeling dizzy. “fuck. pussy taking my cock so good. i’m gonna shape you to my dick. gonna ruin you for anyone else. you’re mine.” she pulled back, your tight walls sucking her in before she would thrust inside up to the hilt, bruising your cervix.

you screamed her name. she was relentless, groaning as the back of the strap would brush against her throbbing clit, her slick making it easy to glide through her puffy folds. you two looked like animals in heat, your hips fucking against her in need for “more, more, more…”

abby groaned, you were basically fucking yourself on her cock. using her to get off. and fuck if that didn’t turn her on.

she took her phone from her pants, the flash of the camera recording making you hum.

“look at you. riding my dick. desperate little thing…” you moaned. she was pointing the camera exactly to where your cunt stretched around the strap, to the mess you were making of her cock and your thighs due to how fucking wet you were. “i should send this to the whole fucking school. make them know who you belong to, hm?” you moaned, the thought of it turning you on so badly you almost came, nodding.

“yes, abby, fuck…”

she groaned. “tell them. tell them who you belong to.” your back arched at the feeling of a light slap against your clit, making you cry out.

“you! you!”

“that’s fucking right. you’re mine.” her thrust became harsher, the sounds of your cunt engulfing her cock making your thighs shake. it was embarrassing, how much you were enjoying this. how badly you needed her. “fucking mine.” your tits were jumping with every thrust of the snap of her hips, your voice breaking at the feeling of the tip bumping against your g spot over and over and over again…

you were a babbling mess, slurring her name. “abby, abby, abby, abby…”

“what is it, baby? gonna cum? gonna be a good girl and cum for mommy?” she smirked, biting down on her lip at the broken whine you let out. “you like that? like to be mommy’s good girl?” you nodded, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when her fingers found your clit. “then cum. cum for mommy.”

you let out a scream, your high hitting you so hard your ears rung. it seemed to never end. it just got bigger and bigger and bigger as you soaked her cock, your moans getting higher as you rode the best orgasm of your fucking life.

“holy fuck.” she threw away her fucking phone. she wasn’t thinking about sending that video. no fucking way. it was for hers to fuck her cunt when she’d get horny. it was hers. you looked so desperate. no one else could see you like this. she wouldn’t let them.

“mommy…!” you whimpered when her thrust only became harder, her hands gripping your hips in a bruising hold that had you begging it would leave marks. she grunted, feeling her high getting closer as well. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you were so sensitive, coming non stop on her dick, your back arched and nipples swollen due to her sucking. you looked so fucking beautiful it hurt.

“take it.” she growled. “stop being a cry baby and fucking take it.” you gasped when one of her hands pushed down on your stomach, on the bulge her cock made. “can you feel it? feel how deep i’m in, baby? how deep i’m fucking you?” you were crying, it was too much. but at the same time not enough. you babbled her name, pushing on her hips. she manhandled you, choking you down onto the mattress. “stay fucking still.” the lack of oxygen and the feeling of her strong warm hand pressing just the right spots made you fall apart.

“abby, i’m gonna…!” you tried to warn her, but before you could, your thighs were quivering and you were screaming as you squirted all over her thighs and strap, soaking the clothes.

“fuuuuck.” she groaned, looking at you fall apart, cumming over and over and over again. your nails dug on her forearms. “gonna cum, baby. gonna fill you up.” she grunted. “gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum. gonna leave you dripping for a fucking week.” she was a babbling mess. she was so close. so fucking close. she could feel it growing on her lower stomach, the back of the strap rubbing against her puffy and swollen clit.

you nodded.

“please. please. cum inside. need it inside.” you pleaded, and that’s what made it for her.

abby soaked the back of her strap with a moan, rocking her hips to help the two of you ride your orgasms in between moans and whimpers.

when it finally was over, after what felt like hours. her hips came to a halt, deep inside your cunt. she was panting on your neck, sweat coating your bodies. you two were speechless. fucked out of your minds.

she kissed you. deep and slow. wet. her tongue was warm and lazy into your mouth.

“i meant it.” she muttered against your lips, looking straight into your droopy teary eyes. “you’re mine.”

-

a/n: 🤘🏻

[luvyeni]

PlEASE TELL ME YOU TAKE REQUESTSSSSS

If you do can you do one where fem reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and felix zips in to save the day and comforts her but it escalates and next thing you know he's giving her backshots while taking a video to send to her ex boyfriend😃

❛GETTING OVER HIM❜ ( l. felix )

p. bestfriend!felix x fem!reader w. 1.3k

warnings? smut , lil angst , doggystyle , unprotected sex , dirty talk

— 𖦹 ( felix helping you get over your cheating ex ) !

felix was pissed , your body shaking as you sobbed in his arms. you had come running to his apartment , tears running down your face as you told him the story of how your ex had cheated on you with one of the friends he told you not to worry about.

"he's such a fucking asshole." he rubbed your shoulders. "you don't deserves this , and he doesn't deserve you." he massaged your scalp , as your head laid in his lap. "it's okay , i got you bubs ." the name he used since you became friends.

"what did i do wrong?" you sniffled. "everything he wanted , i gave to him , how could he do this?" without thinking — he grabbed your jaw , forcing you to look up at him from his lap. "listen to me , you did nothing wrong , he was the one who cheating , he ruined your relationship , so don't blame yourself , he's in the wrong here."

felix couldn't help it — he knew shouldn't have done it , you were his bestfriend and you were currently a mess because of this break-up , but he liked you first and you looked so pretty , your shiny eyes , looking up at him , and he just couldn't stop himself from bringing his lips to yours , your lips soft against his.

he pulled away , guilt immediately filling his gut. "i-i'm so sorry , i should've done that , im so stupid." he rambled , but that stopped when you reached up , your hands tracing his jaw. "it's okay , i liked it." he decided it was now or never , his hand soften against your cheek as he pulled you into another passionate kiss.

things started to heat up quick , his hand began to wonder , groping your breast , you moaned into the kiss , he took this as a sign to lay you down on your back , hovering over yours. "you're so pretty." he whispered against skin , leaving little red marks against your skin. "so fucking pretty." he stripped you of your bottoms , leaving you in your white panties.

"can i taste you , please that's all i ever wanted to do." he voice dripping with lust. afraid of the noise that might come from your mouth , you nodded. he got rid of your panties , your cunt glistening with your arousal. "such a pretty cunt."

he came face to face with your cunt , "fe-felix please." you whimpered , squirming against the bed. "please make me forget." this was about you , he wanted to show you want that dickhead of a ex didn't. "don't worry , i'll make you forget all about him bubs."

he licked a stripe up your cunt , your moans going straight to his cock. "mmh , fuck bubs , you taste just as good as i thought." he would've never admitted that he often thought about what your cunt would taste like , but he had a newfound confidence that he didn't have before , and it was taking over.

he dove right into your cunt , slurping and making out with your sweetness like a starved man , you gripped his hair , your back arching off the bed. "fu-fuck felix , feels so good." he moaned against your cunt , your taste was so addicting he didn't even want to go up for air , he could die a happy man if it meant he could spend his last breath tasting your sweet cunt.

"li-lixie." you whimpered , looking down making eye contact with him. "lixie , im gonna cum." his nose brushed ever so slightly against your clit , but it was enough to send you into earth shattering orgasm , cumming all over his tongue. "hnngh , lix!"

he pulled away , his blonde hair all messy , lips swollen and wet , his eyes black with lust and his chest heaving. "fuck bubs , you taste so fucking good , after im done fucking you , im gonna need another taste of that sweet cunt." you moaned at his word alone.

he turned you on your stomach , lifting your hips up. "gonna take you like this." he freed his cock from his slacks , stroking his hard cock. "show you that im so much better than him." his pushed his finger into your fluttering hole. "fuck please lix , please fuck me."

he pulled his finger out , replacing it with his cock , you moan against the bed as he sunk his cock into your sopping hole. "fu-fucking tight pussy , did he even fuck you probably , your hole is choking my dick right now." he grunted , finally bottoming out.

"fuck , fuck if i move im gonna cum." his hips were pressed against yours , he kissed your shoulders. "so-so full." you both moaned , he pulled out , pushing himself in and out of you , slowly. "yeah , you feeling full bubs? mmh , fuck i bet you he never fucked you like this." he began to speed up his thrust. "fuck , felix more."

"more?" he grunted , thrusting as deep as he could , you let out a pornographic scream. "so big!" he smirked. "yeah , you like the way my cock is stretching your pussy out -fuck- so much better than that dickhead , i bet you he probably could even make you cum." he was fucking you as if he had something to prove.

out the corner of his eye he saw your phone , an idea striking him. "bubs , you really want to make him feel like shit , give him a good reason to miss you?" he picked it up. "wh-what are you going doing?" he didn't slow down his thrust , unlocking your phone , going straight to your camera.

"ar-are y-you filming?" he pressed record , turning the camera to you. "yeah , gonna send him a little goodbye present." he said pressing down on your back , making it arch more. "sh-shit , go-goodbye present?" he hummed. "show him what he's gonna be missing now that this pretty pussy is mines."

he held the phone in his hand , using the other to squeeze the flesh of your ass. "fu-fuck felix!" he held the ends of your shirt , using it to fuck you. "gonna imprint my cock inside you , you're only gonna be able to cum on my cock for now on." he maoned. "fu-fuck , gonna fuck you better than he ever did."

he began to thrust into at a inhumane pace , the camera definitely picking up on all your screams , your cunt squeezing around his cock , he hissed. "fuck bubs , you keep clenching around my dick like that and im gonna cum inside your pussy."

his cock was slamming against your g-spot , your second orgasm approaching quickly. "lix , lix m'gonna cum." you moaned , before you or he could react , your orgasm hit you like a ton a bricks , your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came. "fuck!"

"that's it." he fucked you harder , camera shaky. "cream my cock -ngh fuck- gonna cum , where do you want it? want me to cum inside you , fill you up to the brim?" you nodded , knowing your now ex would be jealous , you never let him cum inside you.

"fuck please cum inside me." he thrusted a few more times inside you , moaning as his cum filled your insides , he pulled out , finishing off on your back. "shit."

he stopped the video , throwing your phone to the side , so that he could tend to your needs. "you okay bubs?" his voice soft again , you hum softly. "just tired." your body was flat against the bed , exhaustion in your voice. "okay , let's get you ready so you can sleep."

he helped you into the bath , washing your body with his soap , helping you out of the shower , drying your body off while whispering sweet nothings into your ear , putting your panties back on , sliding on one of his shirts.

he fixed the beds , replacing the sheets , helping you into bed , snuggling up next to your sleeping figure. he finally picked up your phone , finding the video and your ex's number. "lix?" your eyes opened. "what are you doing?" he smiled , hitting send. "nothing pretty."

"now let's go to bed , i don't need you falling asleep on our date tomorrow."

©️LUVYENI

[shdysders]

mistake

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which tara makes a mistake she can't undo

word count: 3.4k

warnings: violence, blood, stabbing, blood & death.

author’s note: feel like my writing is deteriorating, so sorry this might not be the greatest.

When you heard that Mindy and Ethan had been separated from the rest of the group, you immediately knew nothing was going to go according to the plan.

Everything had happened so fast. First accusation news about Sam had streamed on television, then Quinn's bloody corpse had fallen on top of you, then Anika wasn't able to make it across the latter, her bloody hands and Ghostface's shaking had made her slip. You had lost two of your friends in less than fifteen minutes.

You hadn't heard of the killings in Woodsboro until you had met Tara the first day of junior year, but she made sure to tell you everything that had happened the closer the two of you got.

Based on everything you had heard, you understood why Sam was so protective over Tara, the Carpenter sisters had been through more than normal people have in a lifetime.

However, even though you were nothing but nice and understanding towards Sam, she didn't seem to like you.

The first time Tara had brought you home to the apartment, Sam had kept a burning gaze on you for the whole time, like she wanted to burn you alive.

You thought that she would warm up and eventually trust you like she seemed to do with Anika, Quinn and Ethan, but she never did.

And it only got worse once Tara had called you her girlfriend in front of her, a huge disagreement broke out, so big that Sam had sent you out of the apartment.

You never got to know what Sam had said after that, but you did know that the glares you got from Sam only worsened and so did the small comments she would make about you when she thought you didn't hear.

Such as now, when Sam and Tara were walking in front of you, the theater being the destination. You had this gut feeling that Sam was currently talking about you. You just knew she was, even tho you couldn't hear her voice nor did you see her head moving like it normally did when she spoke, you knew.

But your mind changed thoughts when she rapidly turned on her heel, stopping when she was in front of Danny who had been walking closely behind you, alongside Kirby.

"Not you." She said, her voice cracking.

"What?" He answered almost immediately, like he had been expecting it.

"Don't trust anyone remember?" Sam replied.

You watched the scene with worried eyes, what Sam said reminded you way too much of something she had told Tara when she thought you weren't near. "We don't know you.. not really."

His face expression looked hurt, almost taken aback when Sam spoke. "You know me."

"You're not Woodsboro." She spoke quickly, rage lacing her voice.

Tara looked down at her shoes after that was said, her lips finding a home between her teeth. You knew she was scared, because you were as well. You had no idea how things were going to go down, you had never experienced something as brutal like this before.

You were seconds away from putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, before she looked up at you with tears pricking her eyes.

"That goes for you too." She swallows thickly, trying her hardest to look into your eyes.

You furrowed your eyebrows, panic rising through you. "W-what?" Your voice came out as a stutter, not believing what she had just made it's way out of her mouth.

Tara just nodded unsurely, her eyes looked sad and were filled with doubt. You couldn't understand why. If she was sad about it, why would she say it?

"Tara I- you can't be serious." You spoke again, voice growing shakier by the minute.

She knew very well how terrified you were about the situation as it was, and yet she still chose to leave you out of the plan alongside Sam's unknown fuck buddy? If it didn't make you shake out of fear you would've been infuriated.

"You're not Woodsboro." She stated, same thing as her sister but in a different tone, she'd tried to sound calm, but her voice was filled with uncertainty, shaky with worry.

You knew she was right. You weren't Woodsboro. You had never been to the place nor did you knew it existed before Tara came along. But the fact that she didn't trust you enough to know for certain that you weren't Ghostface, made you feel the need to fall apart. Did she really think you would kill your friends? Let alone hurt them?

The thought made your eyes sting, and before you had the chance to wipe the tears away, they fell.

"Tara please I promise I-" You felt embarrassed, being so vulnerable over basically nothing.

All eyes were on you as you tried to keep the tears from falling, you felt ridiculous. But you were terrified.

You couldn't stand the thought of being left alone in this situation. Not only because you were scared of being alone, but also because you had to protect Tara.

Although you knew Sam would do a perfectly fine job of keeping her safe, but you wanted to do it, you had to. You wanted to prove to Sam that you loved Tara almost the same amount as she did, you wanted to prove to Tara she could trust you with her life.

You could see that Tara wanted to give in, tell you that you could come along and that she trusted you with her whole being. Her eyes were filled with regret and doubt. But you could tell that she wasn't going to change her mind anytime soon.

She just watched you, biting her lips hard enough to draw blood. Seeing the look on your face just made her want to squeeze you in a hug hard enough to make you faint.

You looked so scared, and the fact that she knew how scared you were about the whole situation, made everything worse. She had noticed the terrified look on your face that hadn't left since the attack at the apartment, your trembling hands and the layer of tears in your eyes that never fell.

Tara actually thought that you looked more scared than both Sam and her combined.

"Y/n please just stay here." She tried to reason, as if she wanted this. But she did want it. She wanted you to be safe.

You wanted to argue, tell her that you would refuse to come along. But you knew that you wouldn't get anywhere with it, Tara was stubborn, she always got what she wanted somehow. And you didn't want Sam to see you argue with Tara, that certainly wouldn't help you get on better terms with her.

So you gave in, even though you knew Tara's life was at stake. Sam will take care of her, you tried to tell yourself.

You quickly wiped the tears on your cheeks with your hand, even though everybody had already seen them.

Tara's eyes never left your figure as she watched your trembling hands. "Fine." You almost spit, voice cracking with worry.

Tara nodded at that, happy to hear you give in. You didn't pay attention to anybody's reaction other than hers, they didn't seem to matter.

She walked closer to you, placing a kiss on your faintly tear stained cheek. "Be safe." She said, as if she wasn't the one that was about to walk into a situation that she would either leave traumatized or not leave at all.

"Be safe." You repeated, before you watched them all walk away towards the building.

Seeing as Sam turned her head to Tara and whispered 'good call', as they walked away.

But when you turned around to try and make a decent conversation with Danny, he was nowhere in sight. Making even more worry creep in your bones.

***

You had been pacing around in the same place and pattern for 20 minutes without any progress, Danny was gone, and your phone was dead.

The streets where dead and empty.

You had half a mind to just run to the theaters and do the exact opposite of what Tara had instructed you to. But you knew well enough that both of the Carpenter sisters would quite literally murder you if you stepped a foot into their plan.

But eventually the worry and stress got to you, like it always did. You didn't care if you were going to get murdered whether if it were by Tara or Ghostface, if it was for protecting Tara, it was a good reason.

However, before you had the chance to change your mind or consider the other options, a glove-covered hand landed on your face, covering your mouth tightly.

The yelp and screams you tried to make was inaudible, nobody could hear them.

You felt a surge of fear and panic, unable to hear your own scream. The street grew eerily silent as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest. Rush of intense vulnerability and confusion, as you desperately searched for a way to escape the grasp of the unknown assailant.

But you knew who it was. It was Ghostface.

You tried to kick them with your legs, but none of them seemed to hit. The person was holding a strong grip on your mouth, and the other arm was firmly placed around your waist. You were unable to move out of any of the grips, the person was too strong. And you weren't.

Your panic was making it harder to breath, and you were beginning to feel as if you were about to faint any second.

You tried your best to remove the grip with your hands, gripping hardly on the muscular arms, trying so hard to get them away from you.

The tightened arms had veins all over them, yet another reminder that it was impossible for you to get away.

It was Danny, you tried to tell yourself over the ringing in your ears. It had to be Danny. He had left the second you were alone with him. It had to be him.

Muffled screams and ringing ears were the only noises you could make out. If the person behind you was speaking in a voice changer to you or not, you had no idea.

The panic you felt was replaced with relief when the thought of using your elbow to hit the individual behind you entered your mind.

But you never got the chance to do that.

Seconds before your elbow was about to meet the Ghostface mask, you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen.

All of the movements you were making stopped the second you realized what it was.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Seven times you could feel the sharp piece of metal enter and exit your abdomen. A gasp escaped your mouth after every single one of them.

You tried to scream, but nobody was around. Your wide eyes scanned through the street, yet again seeing that nobody was there. It was all empty.

Normally the streets of New York would be filled with drunk teenagers and late night workers, whether it was night or afternoon.

But when the news about the killers got out, everybody stayed inside. Some people didn't even bother to leave for work, and of course no parties. Even the homeless people seemed to have found another place to stay at.

You didn't realize that numbness was spreading through your legs until the potential male had slowly began to loosen the grip he had on your figure.

Before you had time to think, he had completely let go.

Suddenly you felt dizzy, you couldn't feel your feet, you couldn't feel your legs, you couldn't feel anything.

You could barely feel your legs giving up, nor did you feel your body hitting the ground as you tried to cover up the damage that had been made on your lower stomach.

Regardless the sharp pain in your body that almost made it impossible to breathe and the dizziness that got worse every time you moved, you tried to crawl towards the fence that was just centimeters away.

Your hands bloody from trying to add pressure to your wounds made trails on the asphalt.

You couldn’t tell if you had placed your hands on the right place, considering that the stab wounds were all over the place. And you didn't even dare to look down, because you could guarantee that it wouldn't be a pleasant sight.

Your eyes were starting to close by themselves and you were struggling to keep them open.

Everything hurt.

The pressure you were putting on the wounds was now becoming lighter, your hands didn't seem to have any strength left in them.

Tara would be here soon, you thought, desperately.

She would be here soon, everything would be okay; no more Ghostface attacks, no more Sam hating you, and no more unexpected death cases of your friends.

Your mind focused on Tara.

Her brown hair, her beautiful brown eyes, her dimples and her breathtaking smile. Her voice, her touch, and her joyful laugh.

Your eyes closed, and this time you couldn't stop them. The pressure on your wounds was no longer existent. The color in you was gone. You were gone.

Last thought being the girl you wanted to marry.

***

Tara left the building with a lump in her stomach, as big as a bowling ball.

Her body was filled with worry and guilt, but a part of her felt relief. She was relieved that everything was over now. No more Ghostfaces. She was done with them, truly.

Tara couldn't wait to see you. She was going to tell you that the decision she made was right, that she was happy you stayed behind, because you stayed safe.

But when Danny had walked into the theater, tackling all kinds of officer in his way, he was all alone. You weren't there, you didn't come with him.

Danny told them that the two of you had lost sight of each other rather quickly after they'd left, that you probably just needed to be alone and breathe for a moment.

Tara knew that you would be upset with her, for not allowing you to come with them, for not letting you protect her, like you always told her you would, even if it meant dying.

Although she had hoped for you to at least come to see if she made it out alive.

Danny had called the cops and ambulance to arrive at the place as soon as he got the chance. That's why the only thing in Tara's sight was ambulances, police cars and the fire department.

Chad had miraculously made it out alive, same with Mindy and Kirby. And even though that made Tara want to cry out in happy tears, she couldn't let herself feel anything until she had seen you.

Safe and secure. Like you should've been.

Panic began to rise within Tara as minutes passed without any sight of you.

Sam stood beside her, trying to sooth her younger sister with comforting words. But they didn't make anything better for her.

After the whole showdown, the two Carpenter sister's had talked, really talked.

Sam had tried to explain to Tara that she didn't actually hate you, the opposite really. She thought you were lovely and a perfect match for Tara. But she didn't want to take any risks.

She wanted to show you the walls to her trust weren't easy to break. And then she thought that if she acted rude towards you, you would eventually leave; meaning there was no need for Sam to let her guard down and open up to people she didn't know.

But Sam knew how much Tara loved you, she had been listening to her sister's rambling about you everyday.

That's why Sam could feel her heart sinking down her entire being when her eyes met with a stretcher where a body was placed, a morgue sheet on top of it, which was filled with blood.

Sam prayed that it was somebody else. That you had walked somewhere else to breathe just like Danny had assumed.

She felt the need to distract Tara before she had the chance to see it, but it was too late.

She had already seen it.

Tara screamed out your name in a sob, straight away assuming that you were the person underneath the white cover.

The woman who had been pushing the stretcher had stopped, turning around to try and give the man behind her any sort of information about the deceased individual.

Tara's legs moved faster than she could process, Sam following shortly after.

Heart pounding, hands trembling. With a swift of motion, she grabbed the edge of the wrap and pulled it upward, revealing your pale and peaceful face.

The vibrant hues that once painted your face were now gone, leaving behind a pale and ghostly visage. The colors had been drained from you, you no longer looked like yourself.

Tara could feel herself gasp loudly at the sight, turning around with a hand placed on her mouth.

A surge of sickness overwhelmed her. A gut-wrenching sensation, as if her stomach was about to revolt. She felt like she was on the verge of throwing up, basically feeling the acidic liquids rise within her.

It was you. Her girl. Dead. Gone.

Sam had the same reaction to the sight, gasping and putting her hand on her mouth, preventing from letting out any tears or sounds. Chills running down her spine.

Stop it. Pull it together. Tara. Tara needs you. Sam told herself.

Gaze shifting from your body and the bloody sheet upon you to her younger sister, who was sobbing beside her, about to fall down to her knees.

But when Sam put a hand on Tara's shoulder, she stood straighter. "No!" She shot up, voice raspy.

She looked at you again, but this time not caring for the feeling inside of her throat that threatened her. "She's not dead." Tara spoke again, trying to convince herself that you were alive, that she could save you.

"Tara-" Sam tried, but Tara had no interest in listening to her sister.

"Y/n. Baby, look at me." Tara gently brushed her fingertips against your cheeks, but quickly pulled away when she felt the chill that pierced through her body, for they were once a source of warmth and comfort, now distant and cold.

You were always warm.

The tears streamed down Tara's face, leaving even more mascara smudges on her cheeks, falling and leaving marks on her blue shirt. The shirt that you had gotten her.

"Sam, Come on! help me please" She begged for her big sister's help, still hoping that you could be saved.

At that sentence, the woman who had pushed you turned around, she seemed to have heard Tara's pleads and begs, filled with hope, wishing that you were alive. "Oh honey, this girl has been deceased for over an hour...we can't save her."

The woman spoke apologetically and looked at Tara with sorrowed eyes. "I'm so sorry." She ended. Tara was about to scream at the lady, yell at her and tell them to at least try, you weren't gone. There was no way.

But before Tara got the chance to argue, Sam had pulled her into her chest, embracing Tara with a hug. And at that, Tara broke.

The sobs left her mouth faster than she could take them in, she didn't have any space to breathe.

"She's gone." She cried, her tears staining the older woman's shirt. "And I wasn't there to help her." Tara rambled, talking rapidly before the next sob would escape.

Sam didn't know what to say. She just stroke her younger sister's hair, trying to soothe her sobs.

She had never seen Tara this vulnerable and emotionally ruined, not even when she had reunited with Tara at the hospital the previous year.

Tara's body shook violently as each sob left her mouth.

It was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

Tara had been so confident with her decision only minutes before. She thought she had made the right move.

But it turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life.

A mistake she couldn't take back, and had to live with for the rest of her time alive.

[macfrog]

backspin | bbf!frankie

surprise! we're taking a quick detour to fuck around with our brother's best friend again. what else is new.

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x fem!reader summary: you try to get even with frankie. it works. warnings: reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, enemies to lovers, mention of throwing up, alcohol consumption, cursing, oral, more dickhead frankie and more sassy reader word count: 6.3k

part one: rack 'em | main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💙

So, you fucked around with Frankie.

It’s no big deal, right? It was just a one-time thing. There was tension, you guys relieved it. Scratched an itch. Served a purpose. You still fucking hate the guy, and he still fucking hates you.

Nothing’s changed.

Right?

Mal sprays wine all over the kitchen table when you tell her. Gargles a, Sorry – fuck – sorry, through what little of the alcohol is left in her mouth.

You wipe your face clean in the crook of your elbow. It’s in your fucking eyelashes. You blink the room back into focus, and – “Jesus, Mal!”

Dark droplets teeter around the edge of the table, threatening to plunge straight down onto your mom’s chair cushions – thus damning you to her very own personal hell for all eternity. You can feel the flames licking at your feet already.

Your best friend rips a sheet of paper towel and drags it over the wood – white bleeding violet at the first swipe. “Why’d you tell me as I was taking a sip?”

“I didn’t think you’d fucking hose me down,” you hiss, taking the soaked crumple from her hands.

“You didn’t think I’d be a little surprised that you and Catfish Morales hooked up? Are you fucking ser–? Actually, you know what? I’m not that surprised.”

You glare at her from the sink, upper lip curled.

Mallory Bennett has been privy to your every thought since you were six years old. Hand in hand, arms swinging as you marched into first grade together.

Most days, you barely have to open your mouth – one flinching expression, one flash of eye contact, and she can parrot your own thoughts back to you.

Francisco Morales going down on you two nights ago is the first thing you’ve ever had to confess to her. It’s the first thing she never saw coming.

“Shut up,” you breathe, eventually thawing and sweeping over to your chair. The table sticks to your arms when you sit back down.

“There’s a lot to unpack there, alright? A lot of tension. I mean, you gotta fuckin’ feel it. You two hate each other’s guts! And you’re both single, and you’re only here for two weeks. And – he’s Santi’s best friend. It’s just…it’s the perfect storm.”

Another exasperated sigh passes your lips. You settle back, eyes closed, and lift your palm. “Enough. I’ve heard enough.”

“You wouldn’t’ve told me if you didn’t wanna talk about it. Was he good?”

“Mal.”

“Was he?”

“I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit.” Her face screws up; the gold hoops wobble from her ears. “Like hell you don’t remember. Tell me.”

Your eyes slip from her over to Ange. The old pup pushes herself to her feet with a huff, her joints stiff and bones frail. She moseys over to your side. You scratch the back of the dog’s neck, shrugging to Mal.

“Maybe if you hadn’t cheated your way to a free round of drinks, I’d remember enough to share.”

“Fuck you,” she snorts, voice rounded by her wine glass. “Maybe that just means you gotta do it again – sober.”

You scoff.

Angie looks up at you – watery eyes blinking, tail slowly fanning.

Mal’s already recounting the time Frankie snitched on the two of you for raiding your mom’s makeup bag. She waves her hands in the air, eyes bulging.

Do it again. The thought actually makes you want to laugh.

You and Frankie – you and Catfish, hooking up again. As if the first time wasn’t a total mishap, the biggest mistake in judgement you think you’ve ever made.

He drove you home, he made you come, he left.

One nil, right? You have one up on him. You got yours, and he probably went home and jerked off to the thought of it. Alone in his room, tongue licking at the corners of his mouth where he could still taste your release.

You won.

You won, against Frankie Morales.

“…and then fuckin’ – Pope tried to help us tidy it up, remember? He was scrubbing the hell outta the lipstick on the mirror. But that asshole – Frankie,” she seethes, “he went downstairs as soon as your mom came home. As soon as she…And he fucking ratted!”

She growls, balls her fists. Screws her eyes tight shut like the enraged eight-year-old she was back then. She still has the same little crease between her brows. “What the hell got into you that night? We hate him, junior!”

Ange slumps to the floor with a sigh.

“Me too, girl,” you mutter to her, twirling the base of your glass. You look back up at the crazed woman opposite. “I don’t know,” you insist. “I was drunk, we were on our own…It just happened, alright?”

Her shoulders roll in a shrug. She lifts her glass to clink the neck of the bottle against the rim, purple wine spilling in a swirl. “Maybe it’s the start of something.”

You scoff. “Mal. Come on.”

“I’m serious. Perfect storm.”

“Nope. No storm. Stop that.”

She jabs a tipsy finger in your direction. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you messed around with your arch fucking menesis– arch fucking…with – with Frankie, and you just – still feel nothing for him?”

“No,” you admit, “I feel plenty for him. I hate his fucking guts. I used to wish every birthday that he’d disappear. One time in church, when Father Joseph told everybody to bow their heads ‘n pray, I actually asked God to kill him for me.”

“Not Father Joseph!” Mal shrieks, grinning. “He was so fucking hot, by the way, for a dude with no hair. When the sunlight caught that cueball just right…that was a real fucking miracle. Goddamn.”

You bat her snicker away. “Me and Frankie used to brawl so bad that our moms had to separate us,” you continue. “I had to sit in the front seat if we drove anywhere – and that still didn’t stop him! He’d reach around the headrest and flick my fucking ear.”

“You gave as good as you got, though. I’m surprised he can even still get hard, the number of times your foot…” She swings her leg and kicks your thigh softly. “He was an ass, I know.”

“He was an ass then, he’s still an ass now. That’s all there is to it.”

“Okay,” Mal concedes. Her dark, glossy hair surfs around the lip of her wine glass when she leans in. “But you wouldn’t’ve told me unless it was still on your mind. ‘s all I’m saying.”

You throw yourself back with a quick, angry shake of your head. Your tongue flicks over your top lip.

“All I’m saying,” she repeats, holding her hands up.

But I won, you think – in a petulant little whine. Like you could shake your fists and stamp your feet at the same time. You got one up on him. He – he made you…

He made you come. He saw you. Felt you. Tasted you.

He knows what you sound like, whimpering his fucking name. Drunk on him, begging him not to stop. And now, the image of him fisting his cock over the memory of it feels less like a victory, and more like –

Another fucking loss.

You have no idea what he looks like, coming undone. No clue what his fragmented moans sound like as they tear from the bottom of his throat and rain down over you. You don’t know the weight of him in your hands, the wet slip of his tip as he leaks over your tongue.

Mal’s onto something new. Taken by a Facebook post from some girl you went to high school with. Biggest head I ever saw on a fucking baby, she mutters, wincing and then sprinkling a handful of salted peanuts on her tongue.

Frankie’s cocky smirk clouds over the sight of her at the opposite end of your kitchen table.

Francisco fucking Morales. The asshole wins again.

All at once, you hear his rotten little jeers in your ear – curbed painfully by his middle finger searing across your lobe. You feel his heavy palm on your skull, fingers scrunching roughly into your scalp.

A temper boils between your ears, heavy over your head. It feels juvenile, as if it’s armed with a Barbie in one fist and a juice box in the other. Sunken and wallowing in shame and rage, red-hot waves which wash over you as Mal cackles at some video on her phone.

You feel Frankie’s hands around your legs; the flicks of his hair tickling the inside of your thighs. The swarm of butterflies deep in your belly as you watched his figure swagger back across the street to his truck.

Loss after loss after loss. Each one wearing a satisfied smirk and a Standard Oil baseball cap.

Each one staining deeper than red wine in varnished oak.

You grit your teeth.

Frankie –

fucking –

Morales.

Santi floats the idea of a barbecue. Because of course he fucking does.

He says his place is too small, too many neighbors in earshot – and as long as Ms. Teller takes both hearing aids out, she won’t even know it’s happening.

“Just the guys ‘n us,” he chirps. “You, me, Will, Benny…Fran-kie…?”

You gag down the line. Body instinct whenever his name is mentioned, worsened by the latest developments in your relations. Ange glances up from her spot beneath the oak tree – her milky fur stark against the velvet green grass.

Santi chokes on a laugh. “Mal, too, if that helps with the Catfish thing.”

You lean the phone on your collarbone, sitting forward to apply a second coat of polish to your toes. The red gloss shines in the early morning light. “He is not welcome in my house.”

“First off: not your house. Second –”

“My house for the next eleven days.”

He says your name flatly. It sounds like a door being slammed. It shuts you up as though you’re nine again. “…Second: he won’t be in the house. He’ll be in the backyard.”

“You owe me,” you protest. “For ditching me the other night. I’m cashing in, Santiago. You want a cookout? No Frankie.”

Your brother sighs. “And how am I supposed to explain that to him, hermana?”

“Don’t,” you tell him. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Santi mutters something incoherent, though you know from the razor-sharp tone of voice that it’s no compliment. Still – he’s a man of his word.

Eventually he agrees: no Frankie at the barbecue.

The store is chilly, plucking goosebumps along your arms.

You round the aisles, scanning your list. You’ve been battling with a janky front wheel which has squealed and veered off-course at every fucking turn. It almost mowed over an elderly woman in the meat aisle.

You’ve cleared most of what Santi told you to get. Drinks, ice, buns, meat, corn on the cob. He wanted to use Mom’s dinner plates – but that, you countered, runs the risk of them being scraped, chipped, or worst of all, smashed.

That’s not a risk you’re willing to take. So you’ve piled in some paper plates and plastic cutlery, too – just to be on the safe side.

The cashier cuts a familiar figure at the checkout: her navy apron and full-cheek grin. She’s a staple sight from your childhood – a pair of dimples and sweet giggle trailing after you as you’d follow your mom’s skirt back out to the parking lot.

Her eyes widen and she clasps her hands when she notices you approaching. “Well, would you look who it is?” she sings.

“Hey, Pol,” you say, fanning yourself with your scrawled shopping list. “How you doing?”

The belt jolts your supplies closer to her bejeweled fingers.

“Same as always, honey. Rockin’ and rollin’. What brings you back to town?”

“Housesitting, dog-sitting…Santi-sitting. Mom and Dad are on a cruise.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says, nodding. “She told me last week. Caribbean, right?”

You nod, sucking a deep, unenthused breath in.

Pol hums, smiling to herself as she clicks the barcode for your hotdogs into her computer. She begins telling you what her granddaughter thinks of second grade – her two times table and the tadpoles they’re keeping in class.

Your eyes sweep around the store as she chats. Everything looks the way it always did, a time capsule from the nineties. Speckled floor and fluorescent lights; placards hanging overhead which sway each time the great glass doors pull open.

Baskets of fruit and veg lined alongside a lawn set on offer. Beside that, heaps of flowers and stacked planters. Beside those, a discarded shopping cart. And beside that –

Frankie fucking Morales.

Well – the silhouette of him. It’s pretty bright outside. But you’d recognize the outline of that dumb baseball cap anywhere. He’s talking to one of the assistants.

You hand Pol the cash Santiago gave you, and she trades it for a receipt. Dumping your bags back into your cart, you nod to her in thanks and stalk off towards the sliding doors.

Frankie tosses and twirls a pack of cigarettes in his hand. The assistant is telling him about some big college football game.

Your grip tightens on the janky-wheeled cart. You feel your skin begin to heat; prickling all over your arms, flushing down between your shoulder blades. Gathering somewhere south of there.

But you walk by him with purpose, choosing to ignore that warm feeling. Choosing to ignore…him.

He doesn’t turn. Thankfully.

The doors grant you exit and you give your cart one good shove across the threshold, back out into blinding daylight and sticky heat.

“Alright, man,” Frankie’s voice calls from behind. “Good talkin’ to ya.”

You nail your eye on the car. It’s, like, fifteen paces. You can make it fifteen steps without having to deal with him, right? If you take longer strides, it’s probably more like ten.

Ten steps, and then you’re in the sanctuary of your car. You don’t have to see, speak to, or deal with him.

So why are you slowing down?

You’re slowing down. You are. You’re borderline fucking loitering. Quietly hoping he’ll notice, catch up, maybe talk to –

You click the unlock button. The car beeps in response.

Five steps out. The front wheel is rattling. You’re doing your best to ignore it.

Four.

Three.

The wheel spins, flitting like a confused compass needle, and stops dead in the opposite direction. The cart hurtles out of your grip for less than a second before you recover it and haul it close to your car, cursing under your breath.

But a force – stronger, steadier – reaches around your body and takes hold of the thing. It guides it back to course. A force which, when it speaks, sounds a shit ton like –

“Woah, lil Santi,” Frankie mutters, and your chest leaps.

You freeze in your tracks. His weight is still around your back. He’s right fucking there, when you turn to look.

The brim of his cap bumps against your head. He steps back with a smirk on his face. He’s so fucking smug, you could slap him. “You tryna cause a goddamn accident with that thing?”

You pull a disingenuous smile. “Hey, Fish. Ever tried minding your own business?”

He feigns a wounded sound and clutches his chest. “Ouch. I’m just looking out for ya.”

“Feels more like you’re pestering me.” You pull on the door handle and slot the first bag along the backseat.

Frankie lifts his chin, peering in at the contents. The star-spangled plated, the dripping bags of ice. “Having a party?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked.

You yank the bag from his sight, spinning to push it alongside the others. “Nope.”

He crosses his arms. “Sure looks like you’re having one.”

“Well, I’m not.” You slam the door and turn back to him, staring blankly.

“Forgot,” he sniffs, “you need friends to have a party.”

“Hilarious. Those shit jokes how you make all your friends?”

He nods, impressed. Pouts his lips like an annoying little fish. Suits his stupid fucking nickname. “Then why’d Benny call ‘n ask if I’ll be at Pope’s parents’ tonight?”

Shit. Fucking – Benny.

You sigh, eyes rolling closed. Your fingers massage your temples. “It’s not…it’s…”

“Cookout, right? Yeah. That stings, baby. No call, no text. You owe me, remember?”

“I owe you jack sh–”

“Two drinks,” Frankie clips, holding a finger up to shush you. “Three, if you count saving your car from one hell of a scratch.”

“Fuck off,” you breathe, and then give voice to, “It’s a small gathering of friends, and – now you, apparently.”

He sways forward, bumping the cart into your hip. “You need me to bring anything?”

You heave it straight back at him, hopefully hard enough to bruise. “Tranquilizer gun, if you’ve got one.”

“Can get something even stronger, if it’s a party you’re after.”

Your eyes thin. “Wouldn’t be my mom’s favorite for much longer if she found out you were doing coke in her backyard.”

Frankie smiles. That trademark Catfish grin. “I’ve done worse in her kitchen, baby.”

He’s so goddamn cocky. So full of it, it makes you want to scream. He studies you, eyes shadowed by his cap. His hair flicks out around his ears, dark curls doused in golden sunlight.

When your eyes trace the shape of his jaw, the wiry hair above his top lip – the faint flicker of a memory glows across your skin.

The weight of his hand on your stomach, pinning you to the bed. The bristling feeling ghosting the inside of your thighs. Your desperate wet, his tongue covering ground across your body like claiming territory.

Every shade of wrong. Ignoring every atom in your body – betraying every version of yourself for ten minutes of euphoria. He brought every numb nerve under your skin to attention, the second he knelt between your knees.

But he’s looking at you now, the same way he did the other night. It’s boyish and dangerous. A naked match just waiting to fall.

Maybe you’re waiting for an excuse to drop it.

Frankie gives his cap a quick tug, and makes off for his truck.

“See you at seven, Garcia.”

Daylight melts into dusk and with it, goes the sharp sting of summer. A pale blue rolls across the horizon, covering the yard in a hazy sort of chill. A relieving breeze, like satin over newly burned skin.

You’re still fucking sweating.

“Are you going to help me, or you just gonna lie there and text your girlfriend?” you call across the yard.

The dark figure spilling over the edge of the hammock grunts in response.

“Santi.”

Your brother groans, rolling free from the marigold fabric. He strides across the lawn, swinging an arm down to ruffle Ange’s ears. “Not a girlfriend,” he says, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “She’s…she’s more of a…”

You lift your hand. “Not something I need to know.”

He laughs and looks at the spread on the table. He lifts the corner of a tricolor napkin, straightens a plastic fork. The foil over the hamburger buns crinkles. “We did a good job. Looks great.”

“We?” You scoff, slapping his wrist away. “Yeah, me and the fucking dog, more like.”

“How much did it all come to? The food and shit?”

You shrug. “Like, forty dollars. I don’t know.”

“Gave you sixty. Where’s my change?”

You frown, hands on your hips. “If you don’t know how to budget properly, that’s not my problem.”

“And if you don’t know when to just lie and say you spent it all, that’s not mine. Twenty bucks, kid.” He holds his hand out, fingers beckoning.

The squeal of the gate interrupts, followed by a barrage of voices. Will and Benny and Mal and – as you lean back to watch them parade through the yard, you spot the figure of Frankie at their heels.

“Pope?” Will calls. “Pope, do me a favor. Remind me which one of us threw up at Busch Gardens that one time. Remember – right after we rode Gwazi?”

Santiago chuckles. “I remember Mallory wearing her raspberry slushie.”

Will guffaws in Mal’s face.

“I spit up!” she protests. “I spit up in a flowerbed. I was not wearing my slushie.”

“You were fluorescent pink the whole day,” Will says. He slings an arm around your shoulders. “You remember, lil Santi?”

You frown. Yeah, you fucking remember.

You remember being forced to sit between Frankie and Mal the entire way home. Santiago got dibs on the front seat by pretending he was carsick, and Mal had to sit by an open window so she didn’t stink your dad’s car out with all her raspberry-flavored puke.

You and Frankie bickered the whole journey. Both absolutely certain that the other was leaning too far over your seats. Your dad vowed he’d never let you both in his car at the same time, ever again.

“Mhm,” you grit, shooting daggers at your best friend.

She mouths a Sorry, and then places her salad bowl in the middle of the table. “Enough about throwing up. I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

The boys spend twenty minutes arguing over how the barbecue works, before a single bit of food is cooked. You and Mal watch from the table, sneaking Ange slices of cheese and giggling when Will and Benny break into their fifth argument of the night.

Santi and Frankie take charge, shoving the brothers out of the way.

Pope passes over the meat, while Frankie mans the grill. He lifts his cap and wipes his brow with his bicep, giving his head a shake as he flips burgers and turns sausages.

And no, you’re not watching him. You’re focused on Mal and her story about some guy from work. Or – it might be a guy from her yoga class. The instructor, maybe? You’re not sure. Frankie just flapped the collar of his shirt and the hem lifted, exposing a sliver of his tummy.

You’re not watching him, though.

He runs his tongue along his top lip, focusing on the sizzle and spatter of the grill. His arm tenses, turning the tongs over and over. Wide shoulders stretch when he reaches for a plate.

He’s laughing quietly at whatever Santi’s babbling about at his side. His eyes are stuck on the barbecue in front of him. His fingers twirl around the tongs again. He never looked so lean and so broad and so fucking different, all at once.

Weird different. Good different?

You feel your cheeks flush with heat. This time, it’s not so much anger, as it is –

Oh, shit.

Mal gets up for a refill at the same time Santiago jogs inside to grab more meat. You and Frankie are alone on the patio – Will and Benny are kicking a ball for Ange to chase on the grass.

Morales turns, and you instantly stare down at your beer. You take a forceful swig as he approaches.

“Hotdog?” he asks, holding a plate down to you.

“Huh?”

He glares at you and scoffs. “Are you dumb? Hotdog.” He slips it onto the table in front of you.

You squint at the grill marks, and then squint up at Frankie. Puzzled and…offended, at the same time. You come back to your body with a jolt. “Why the hell are you–? Have you laced it with something?”

He shoots a glance over his shoulder, tongue between his teeth. “No, I haven’t fucking laced it with anything. I just figured you should have the first one, since you put all this on for us. But – Jesus, give me it.”

Your fingers lock around the paper plate when he tries to steal it back. For all that he’s a dick and might actually try to poison you – you’re fucking starving.

You figure you can stomach the poison.

Frankie sighs. He lets go. “I’m tryna be nice, alright? You know nice?”

“I know nice. You’re not it.”

“Shut up and eat your hotdog, lil Santi.”

You mimic him in a squeak as he strolls off, shaking his head. Still, the second he’s back at the grill, you rip into the hotdog.

Frankie stays at the opposite end of the table for the entire meal – closest seat to the barbecue, and furthest seat from you. There’s too much chatter, too much hilarity being thrown back and forth between you for either of you to kick up a row.

Probably better for the guys’ sakes, but – you want to fucking row.

It’s like a hit, now. A rush of electricity, any time Frankie looks at you for longer than it takes his face to twist into a grimace. You’re hunting for ways to ignite something – anything. Looking for an excuse to drop that naked match and set the whole thing alight.

Because it’s fun, when you’re in the heat of it. Feeling his eyes on you, as hot and angry as flames. Being suffocated by the smoke of it all; breathing in less and less air and more…him.

And, anyway – who knows you better than the one person who pisses you off the most?

As the sun is snuffed by the heavy hand of dusk, you disappear to a quieter corner of the yard. Tucked between two thick beech trees, you throw yourself into the hammock – one leg draped over the side, swinging idly through the night air.

A beer bottle balanced on your tummy, the round base seeping a chilled ring into your shirt. The swish of leaves overhead and the annoying midges at your ears for company.

That is – until the sound of footsteps over crisp grass, and the creak of an old, splintered garden chair disturb your peace.

Frankie adjusts his cap, flatting his fringe beneath it, and sits back. “You never change, do you, Garcia? Still the same little longer you always were.”

You hold your hands out, gulping back beer – and glee. “Can I fucking help you? I’m minding my own business.”

“Thought you might want some company.”

“Not yours, dickhead. You think I’m way the hell over here ‘cause I wanted you to come annoy me?”

He hums, picking at a flake of paint on the armrest. “Sure wanted me to annoy you the other night.”

“Alright,” you clip. “Cheap shot. You been practicing that one all afternoon?”

“Since I saw you at the store.”

You roll your eyes.

Frankie slips a cigarette from its pack and lights it, tipping his chin to blow a white cloud to the sky. “You’re too much fun,” he tells the stars.

You squint through the dark, staring at the glowing cherry. “What?”

“You. You get so pissed, so easily. Always have.”

“Well, you antagonize me. Always have.”

His cheeks lift. It’s something softer than a smirk, still laced with too much attitude to be a smile. “That’s ‘cause you were always around. Everywhere Santi went, there you were. Closer than his shadow.”

“Well,” you glower, “’s what happens when you have a big brother. You’re void of love; I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“No, I get it,” he says. “It just got fun to mess with you, after a while.”

“Uhuh,” you take another swig, “so is that what you’re doing? Messing with me?”

Frankie’s shoulders jump. “You tell me. There were two of us in your room that night.”

You swing your legs down to the grass. It’s brittle under your socks when you stand, still focusing on the end of his cigarette. “Damn, you really can’t shut up about it, can you? How many times have you tugged one to the thought of it?”

“Tugged one,” he snickers, but he seems nervous – watching as you approach. “What age are you?”

You push his knees wider, slotting between his thighs. “Which part does it for you? What sends you over the edge?”

“Come on, lil Santi,” Frankie says, averting his eye. “You’re embarrassing yourself now.”

One knee up, resting on the crease of his jeans. You lean forward and nudge his hip, lay your hands gently on his shoulders. “I bet you still hear me in your dreams.”

He scans up and down your body, lingering on your bare thigh. “Not – not gonna work, kid,” he promises, shaking his head. “You still annoy the fuck outta me.”

“Right, right.” You pinch the pale stick from between his teeth. “’cause nothing’s changed, yeah?”

His head sways in agreement. He’s distracted, watching as you lift your hand to your mouth.

You smile down at him. “’cept you know how I taste now, so.”

You slot the damp end of the cigarette between your lips and suck. Sharp, acrid heat sails over your tongue and down your throat, filling your chest in one inhale. You cough a little, batting the smoke as you blow it out.

“Tastes fucking disgusting,” you croak. “How can you smoke these?”

Frankie’s eyes never leave your lips. “You get used to it.”

You take another draw, letting the smoke soar through the space between you. “Gross,” you say, and prop the cig back between his lips. “Just like you!”

“Sh…shut up,” he groans, adjusting in his seat.

“Make me.”

But he doesn’t bite. Doesn’t flinch. He just stares back, rolling the smoldering stick between his thumb and finger. Running his tongue along his teeth.

You spill the last of your beer onto your tongue, cocking an eyebrow at him, and push from his lap.

You make it no more than five steps, before that same weight from the parking lot is around your shoulders.

He pings the cigarette somewhere in the grass, and grabs onto your elbow.

“Fran– Jesus – Where are we–?”

He drags you through the dull dusk to the other side of the lawn, ignoring the click of the motion sensor. You’re thrown through a wooden door onto cold concrete before the yard light floods over you.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust. Weak slivers of moonlight illuminate each tool hanging from the wall. The fairy lights outside lose their battle against the darkness the second they creep through the window.

Before you can sling something mocking at him, Frankie has you pinned against the wall.

“You want me to make you shut up?” he growls, teeth grazing your neck. His fingers slip behind the waist of your shorts, plucking at the button. “I’ll make you shut up. Make you shut up all goddamn night.”

“Frankie,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his shirt. You push on his chest, walking him backwards over to the workbench.

The thing shudders when he rocks against it.

“The fuck are you doing?” he murmurs, watching as you kneel before him.

“Getting used to it,” you reply.

You pull his belt apart, loosen the fly on his pants, and pull until they’re low on his hips.

Frankie holds onto the bench with a white-knuckle grip. He lays his hand over the crown of your head, rubbing small circles. A laugh slips across his tongue. “This what you’ve been thinkin’ about?”

You ignore him, instead focusing on the solid shape in his underwear.

His hips flinch when you drag your palm along it. He’s hard already. He hisses at your cold fingers on his stomach, tensing as your knuckles skim below the elastic.

And then…he’s in your palm. All of him. Frankie fucking Morales.

You’re trying not to think too deep about it.

Your fingers wrap around him, barely meeting around his width, and you slip him from his boxers.

His cock springs free, swaying once, twice – then settling to the right.

Your mouth fills with saliva. Suddenly – there’s no way not to think too deep about it.

He’s…he’s big. He’s thick; smooth and sculpted, veins trailing around his shaft. It’s not like you ever considered what he’s walking around with before, but looking at it now – you can’t believe it’s him.

Without thinking, you lean in and kiss him all the way down to the hair at his base. A wet trail, lips curving around the size of him. You run your tongue up and down, circling the tip and toying with it.

Frankie cups your cheek. “Pretty little mouth,” he utters. “Put it to good use, huh?”

You don’t need him to ask twice.

You sink down on him. Every inch of him – every aching, choking inch. Your jaw slackens to take him; nails digging into his thighs when he bumps the back of your throat.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he hisses. His hand comes down on your head a little too heavily.

You yelp and pull back, gasping when he slips out. “Prick,” you breathe, closing your lips around his tip again.

“Just too sweet with it,” he murmurs, guiding himself back across your tongue.

You suckle on him, using your hands to pump the inches your mouth can’t take.

Frankie’s head tips back, panting at the roof. His hips thrust to meet your movements. “Feels so – goddamn – good,” he moans, and you hum with glee.

You take his balls in your hands, kneading them as you work your way lower. He’s so deep in your mouth that it makes your eyes water. Each slip of his tip against the back of your throat makes you gag, pulls a lewd, muffled sound from your chest.

It shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t be enjoying it this much. But he’s falling apart under your fingertips, he’s unwinding right before you. He’s whispering your name, begging you not to stop. Just like that, just like that, just like that. Oh, fuck, just like that.

It’s addictive. Now that you know how he looks, how he feels, you’ll never go back to before. When the most thrill he gave you was a burning temper; feeling your pulse jump in your throat with rage.

This – whatever the fuck this is – is all you know, now. Pulling threads from one another, watching the way they unravel. Watching each other unravel. Flashes of eye contact, salt and slick and sex dripping from every secret word.

Frankie’s hips jerk. His cock spasms.

You don’t want him to come down your throat. You don’t want him to climax when he’s too deep for you to taste it.

You want him all over – your lips, your tongue, dribbling down your chin. You want to mix him with your saliva and swallow; warm, salty, Frankie.

He got his taste. Now you want yours.

You bring your hands up to his thighs, purposefully pushing back off him.

His grip loosens, and he looks down. Brows low and close, eyes blown wide like he’s higher than any drug could take him.

He’s as addicted as you are.

“My mouth,” you mumble, head of his cock circling your glistening lips. “In my mouth.”

“Yeah?” he says, and the weight of his cock slaps on your bottom lip. “That where you want it, baby?”

“Mhm.” You wrap your lips back around him.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” Frankie spits, laughing. “Shit – just like that. Yeah, that’s it.”

Three, four more soaking strokes of your tongue and he’s twitching again.

You pull back only enough to rest his tip on your tongue, feeling the pulsing heat as he comes. Watching the way his face tightens, the pull of his brows as it overcomes him.

His eyes stay locked on you. Your fluttering lashes, your puffy, glossy lips. He fills your mouth and then some – semen spilling from the corners and dribbling down your jaw. And the sound he makes – this broken, scattered moan, bordering on a fucking whimper – is fucking perfect.

Frankie’s hand locks at the base of your skull, holding you steady until he’s done. His cock slips from your bottom lip. He gives one last satisfied sigh, petting your head as you stroke him slowly, tenderly – swiping kitten licks at the dripping mess of him.

“Fuck,” he moans, letting his eyes close over. His weight slumps against the workbench. “The fuck do you spend so much time yapping for when you’re that good with your mouth?”

You hum in amusement, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. He’s softening, but still a decent size. Still a weight to it that makes your cunt clench around nothing.

One last little kiss, and you tuck him back into his boxers. You drag the back of your hand across your chin.

Frankie holds his hands out, and you pull yourself up. He fixes himself into his jeans, turning away to do up his belt. He had his cock in your throat two minutes ago, and here he is pretending to be shy.

He turns back around, half disappeared to the dark shed. “I, uh…I don’t want you to think that I came here just to…just for that.”

Your tongue dabs at the inside of your cheek, all salty. “Then this is awkward, ‘cause that’s the only reason I hadn’t kicked you out yet.”

He laughs, dropping your gaze. “You…” he shakes his head, “…are such a little shit, you know that?”

It’s nicer than he would’ve worded it half an hour ago. But still – having an exchange with Frankie that doesn’t involve spitting insults or jagged glares, warms your blood in a way that’s new and…unsettling.

“We should probably…” You toss a thumb over your shoulder, eyes flitting to the string bulbs outside. “We don’t want them wondering what’s…you know.”

He nods and strides over to the door. The wood squeals against concrete as he pulls it open.

The summer swirls around you again, sweetening the stuffy heat of the shed. Mal’s voice surfs through the breeze – she’s still arguing over the Busch Gardens story.

You make to step out, and Frankie’s arm halts you.

He opens his palm. “Even,” he tells you. “We’re even.”

He seems sure of himself. Sure of you. He looks you in the eye and doesn’t blink.

You smirk. Your hand slips into his, letting him shake your fist once. You stare straight back at him.

“We’re just getting fucking started, Francisco.”

[totalswag]

can i request rafe x fwb reader where reader finds out hes dating sofia and she goes to confront him that he didnt even have the decency to let her know their arrangement was over and he says "who said it was over?''

stuck in the middle - RAFE CAMERON

authors note as you guys may notice i'm finally publishing requests that you guys sent me. super sorry this was very late to publish. i hope you like what i wrote and it was what you hoped. so, thank you for sending this requests.

requests are still open so feel free to send them my way and i will get to them and put them into my docs :) if you click on the bold red ink it will take you to my ask box lovies!!!

summary you find out through people and social media sofia and rafe are together. you go to confront rafe about this since he never thought to tell you that your arrangement was over.

warnings friends with benefits, mentions of sex, cursing

Lately, you've been having this weird gut feeling in your stomach. No idea what the meaning behind it means but you want to find out what it could be. You started feeling this way whenever you were with Rafe on a random Wednesday.

Rafe and you have been friends with benefits for about three months now. When you two came to this agreement, you agreed that it was solely for your sexual pleasures and not to establish feelings for each other, and that the most important thing was to let each other know if one of you became serious with someone else so that the bargain could be broken off.

You overheard a rumor at a party this past Friday about Rafe and Sofia being together for a month. You couldn't believe your ears and wanted to vomit. Sofia works at the island's country club, and Rafe visits it from time to time.

The next day, you decided to do some research to be sure this was accurate. Even as you looked at her Instagram, the emotion returned. You checked her story highlights and discovered what you were looking for. Your stomach sank.

She had a couple pictures on her highlights that you knew were of Rafe, including one with his right hand on her thigh in his car and another with his back to her as he looks out into the distance. Based on what you discovered, they appeared serious.

What made you upset was the fact Rafe and you have been seeing each other for three months which meant he'd been with Sofia for who knows how long before he asked her to be his girlfriend.

"Why didn't he tell me?" You asked yourself, setting down your phone and running your hands through your hair, upset that you found out at random person at a party.

There's a part of you that doesn't want Rafe to be with Sofia. There's a part of you that wants him all to yourself. Regardless, he should've told you the arrangement was over.

That was the deal.

After thinking about what you should do, you decide you are confronting Rafe about this, tonight. You are gonna make it seem like you want to hookup but really you are telling him what you found out.

you- are you busy tonight? i wanna see you

rafe- funny you say that because i wanna see you too

rafe- meet me at the spot at 9pm.

"I'll be back in an hour or so," you tell your mom as you go past the living room, holding your keys. "I'm going to hang out with Samantha."

"That's fine, sweetie; please stay safe tonight, I love you," your mother adds, smiling.

When you get to the spot you see Rafe sitting in his car on his phone. You parked your car next to him so he knows it's you- when he sees you get out, he unlocks the car.

You sigh casually as you sit in the passenger seat.

Rafe says smiling "Hey pretty girl" in a tone that makes you weak in the knees, leaning over the center console to kiss you but you pull back.

"We need to have a little chat, Rafe," maintaining eye contact.

His smile fades, and he looks at you, puzzled, "What do you mean?" His response indicated that he was nervous or knew what was going to happen.

"Why didn't you tell me you and Sofia were together, Rafe? You never once said to my face, "Y/N, we can no longer meet up like this anymore because I have a girlfriend now," mimicking Rafe's voice, "we've been hooking up this entire time while you've been in this relationship that I had no idea about until I heard someone talking about it," you explain frustratedly in your voice and expressions.

In the midst of your rant towards him, he places his hand over his lips, chuckles, shakes his head, and looks down at his lap.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?" You ask, folding your arms, leaning back against the passenger door, annoyed.

He glances up from his lap, licks his bottom lip, and smirks: "Who said it was over?"

Before you could respond his lips were already on yours.

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[urfriendlywriter]

Horror/Eerie st0ry prompts:

(feel free to use<3 tag me when yall writeee )

"[name], w-why is there blood on your face-"

hyperventilating because your feet just touched blood but there's no body.

"it-it's--fuck, it just moved-"

"stop breathing at my ear, [name] --" and turning around to find nobody beside you.

looking at the mirror but the reflection isn't. looking. at. you.

"we need to get out, this is--a bad idea!"

being stuck in a nightmare.

"don't look back, please, i b-beg you, 'name', don't!"

"look at me-no! hey, no, don't, just focus on me, okay? okay, u got this!"

talking to a person and suddenly they turn weird-their face, and voice changes. their eyes turn white.

learning about whatever that is haunting you

"Do you know (an item that you found) belongs to?" and their face go white. "how. did you. find this."

"we need to run, you moron!"

lights flickering so hard

hallucinating shadowy figures

having your actions controlled by a shadow figure that's moving right outside your room

finding dark bruises all over your body you have no recollection of getting (ok but whys this creepy as fck)

having all things shake violently, fall and break

that gut feeling something is following you (if ure that mc, you'll def go investigating what it is. which DEF WILL GET YO ASS IN TROUBLE)

^ or that it might be progressively getting darker as you walk down a road where not a single life is seen

blacking out and waking up somewhere else

if you lift your head up and acknowledge it's presence-then you're done.

you blink once it's there. you blink again it's not but when you blink once again, it's on top of you, choking you.

"i shouldn't die, damn, i haven't even had my first kiss yet TT " (the comedic relief friend in horror stories lmao)

"are you haunted ?! sigh. do i need to save you? " "if you're not gonna piss your pants, yes please."

"if it ever comes between you and me-" "I'm-" "choose you." "obviously choosing you." "no. no! you are choosing you or i am going in there without you. i don't need to lose you too. understood?" ".... okay."

crying out loud, heaving and shuddering but nobody can see you breaking down

having blood smeared all over you

having to watch yourself slowly loose your identity and go paranoid

not being able to be alone anymore.

[kooktrash]

make a wish | jeon jungkook [ birthday drabble ]

DRABBLE FOR: ROMANTIC DREAMS but you don’t have to read it, this drabble can stand alone

summary: hours before his birthday, his friends force him to come out for a night of drinks only for him to be mad the entire time that you’re ignoring him. he comes home early worried you might’ve left but what he saw instead made his birthday all the better when the clock strikes midnight.

warnings: smut. birthday sex. jk is at the club but misses oc lol. 3.8k words

The feeling he got anytime he came out for drinks with his friends never changed. It always felt suffocating to him from the crowds of drunk people all against each other to the overly loud music he couldn’t even pay attention to. It was overwhelming, to say the least.He hated the looks he got and the way people tried to talk to him. He hated how loud his friends were and how they felt the need to bring him up to complete strangers like any of it matter. It’s his birthday weekend, you wanted him to celebrate with all of his friends and yet he couldn’t care less about any of that. He was more interested in finding out why you weren’t here tonight and why you weren’t answering your phone.

“Come on man, just one drink and then you’re free to crawl back to Y/n,” Jin joked as he patted the guy on the back, “But we want to hang out with you for your birthday at least once.”

“Y/n’s not answering the phone,” Jungkook warned as he was led to the bar, “So I’m probably just gonna head out.”

“Dude, Y/n’s not a kid, you don’t have to watch her every five seconds,” Namjoon asked, “Don’t get me wrong, wanting to spend time with your girlfriend is the bare minimum but don’t you think you go overboard sometimes? It would not kill you to be away from her for one night.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, his gaze hardened as he eyed his friend closely. Namjoon just shrugged despite how blunt he sounded and that only seemed to annoy Jungkook more. Who was he to say that?

Jungkook does not go overboard, alright?

He trusts you… of course he does… but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still think about you leaving him. Something in his gut tells him that if you ever try to break up with him you won’t tell him, you’ll just leave and he’ll have no clue where you went.

He thinks you’ve finally grown to love him almost as much as he loves you but he just can’t get over the amount of times you told him you were done. The amount of times he’s had to remind you you’re not going anywhere and neither is he.

He’s gotten better too, he no longer has cameras set up and maybe that’s why he always feels so anxious when you don’t answer. All he’s got is your location so he knows you’re at home, so why won’t you answer his texts?

“Kook?” Namjoon called out to him as he stood at the bar as if he hadn’t just yelled at him, “What do you want to drink?”

“Jungkook?”

He yelled at his friend to get him anything, hearing the call of his name but not bothering to turn and acknowledge it. A small poke on his arm made him take a deep breath and turn to whoever was trying to catch his attention.

“It is you,” She said softly, “Oh my god, it’s been so long. W-y-you just stopped talking to me.”

“Do I know you?” Jungkook looked down unimportant. He actually did have a small recollection of her. They met over a year ago and hooked up a couple times but that was it. He was horny and she was easy.

She looked taken back, “Yeah. You do, asshole.”

He didn’t respond to her, simply glanced down at her angry expression and scoffed as he looked to his friends. They were all busy buying drinks and Jungkook did not care about any of that. He’s been with them since he got off work. They didn’t even let him go home to see you and tell you to go out for drinks. They showed up at the shop, hurried him to close and dragged him to the closest bar. He’s tired of it all. His birthday is tonight and the person he wants to spend it with isn’t answering their damn phone and he’s just starting to get pissed off.

“Okay, here’s yo—“

“I’m leaving,” Jungkook told Namjoon, handing him back the drink, “I’m tired and we’ve been out for hours already. I want to go home.”

Namjoon checked the time biting his lip, he was supposed to stall Jungkook from getting home per your orders and it’s been difficult all night to keep him from running to you. He’s never seen his friend so… in love [?], is that the right word for it? His need to know where you are, why you aren’t talking to him, who you’re with, was intense. Namjoon just knows Jungkook is at his limit with you ignoring him. All he could do was nod his head and give up, “Alright, can you drive?”

Jungkook only had one drink and even then he didn’t finish it before they tried getting him another so he felt fine. He was just bothered that you’ve yet to reach out to him.

He made an attempt to call you, one last time, as he got in his car but like before you didn’t answer and he can feel his patience running extremely thin. Why weren’t you answering him?

The first thing Jungkook noticed when he got back to your shared apartment was how dark it was. Usually [especially now that he’s made the place his own now], the apartment had a dark aura to it. It probably had to do with the mixed decor the two of you had up like his black sketches of skulls and serpents next to your framed photographs of Baby’s Breath and lavender. He’s used to it by now but right now… it’s too quiet…

“Y/n?” Jungkook called out and you could hear the growing annoyed panic in his voice. He dropped his things from work down to the ground without any care. He hasn’t seen you since before he went to the tattoo shop in the morning and now it’s almost midnight and you’re nowhere to be seen.

As Jungkook turned down the hallway, he seemed to freeze. Just below his feet where he hadn’t noticed them before, laid a trail of black rose petals. He followed them with his gaze seeing them disappear under the closed bedroom door where he could see a hue of red lighting inside. With a curious tilt of his head, he walked along the petals, twisting the knob on the door and immediately feeling his heart race.

Your bedroom which had become a concoction of gothic knickknacks and floral patterns, was a deep shade of red. His vinyl played one of his favorite Deftones songs, Mascara, and there you were.

He stopped at the door, eyes taking in the sight around him but all he could do was look down at you surrounded by candles littered across the room and music playing softly to set the mood and suddenly he wasn’t angry anymore. You had been ignoring him all night and that drew him insane but seeing you laying in bed wearing nothing but a black lace lingerie set made him forget all about that anger.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my calls?” Jungkook asked despite feeling giddy inside from all of this. Your lingerie was thin and fitted, it hugged you in all the right places and you looked so inviting with your legs slightly spread open for him, laying in a petal of black roses. You didn’t say anything, only lifted a single finger toward him and motioned for him to move closer.

Your boyfriend was never much for the theatrics, he liked doing it too much to wait, so you weren’t surprised at all when he reached for the back of his black shirt and yanked off over his head exposing his muscles, torso and nipple piercings. His tattooed hands unzipped the front of his black jeans and kicked them off immediately before walking toward the bed with a dark look in his eyes.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you said sitting up a little when he brought a hand to the back of your neck after crawling over your body to kiss you, “But you’re always so impatient.”

“You were ignoring me,” Jungkook whispered against your lips as he sighed softly into the kiss, “I don’t like when you ignore me.”

“So you’re not happy with the surprise?” You asked despite knowing the answer. Jungkook has only just now gotten undressed and you can already see the growing bulge in his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook looked down at your pliant body laying pretty underneath him, unable to help himself from dragging his index finger over the tip of your nipples that peaked through the sheer fabric, “I love it, just dlike nt ignore my texts again, okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as he kissed along your neck lovingly, his teeth softly nipped at the skin until his tongue was running over the marks soothingly. He was already on top of you trying to control the situation and you put a hand on his chest to move him off. His brows furrowed as you began to say up forcing him to do the same, “Why don’t you lay down and let me take the lead for once, yeah?”

“Bab—“ his words died down when your finger tugged at one the bar piercing on his nipple. He looked down watching your finger circle around it teasingly scratching against him and he was folding. Now that Jungkook had relaxed a little, you took the chance to move him to lie on his back, straddling hips as his hands found your waist to hold you there. He set you down directly over his hardening length, letting you slide against it for a moment’s worth of friction. Jungkook always got so easily turned on when it came to you. He could be at work doing a tattoo on someone and suddenly he’ll remember what the two of you did the night before, how he fucked you on the kitchen counter or ate your pushy in the bathtub. Sometimes it didn’t even have to be about sex. He would think about seeing you fresh out the shower or wearing a shirt of his and nothing underneath.

“Y/n,” Jungkook sighed once he felt you lean down for a kiss. It was an open mouth kiss with your tongue pushing into his sloppily the way he liked it, your hands scratching down his ribbed sides feeling every muscle in their path. When you pulled your lips away from his, a line of drool connected your mouths and dribbled down to his chin when you kissed along his jaw. Jungkook’s hands couldn’t sit still, they needed to feel all of you. Your lingerie bottoms were nothing but a lacy thin thong that left little to the imagination but looked good nevertheless. He slid his hands over your butt, big hands pinching and helping any part of you that he could, occasionally making your covered cored grind against his dick. A low moan left his lips when you sucked on his neck leaving a trail of love bites in your wake, moving down to his collarbone and chest.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” you said teasingly as you lucked over his abused nipple that you had been tugging on. Jungkook’s breath hitched when you circled it with your tongue, sucking softly and nipping at the metal with your teeth.

“Always,” Jungkook sighed, squirming a bit as you kissed between his abs down toward his navel, fingers already sinking into the hem of his briefs, “You always make me feel good.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in content, sliding yourself off his lap until you sat perfectly between his spread, muscular thighs, “You always make me feel good too, baby.”

It’s true too. He’s your boyfriend for fucks sake, even if you used to resent him for being the way he was then; there’s no point in still feeling that way when you really do love him—whether it be healthy or not is still up for debate.

Jungkook tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, playing with his lip ring as you yanked his briefs down with a bit of force that had him groaning at the toughness. He’s not used to you taking the initiative, maybe you’ve done it once or twice but never dressed like this in a red and black room made for sex.

You looked down at his length, not surprised at all by the sight of it. Jungkook was hard, his dick was thick and flat against his navel, throbbing under your stare. It twitched like it wanted to point upward but he wasn’t there yet. He needed a little more attention still.

You placed your hands on his thighs for support as you leaned forward to be face to face with his cock, pursing your lips like you were gonna kiss it before blowing air. Jungkook had to rest on his elbows to be able to sit up enough to see what you were doing, just barely catching the sight of you reaching further down and flattening your tongue against his balls teasingly until you licked the underside of his cock too. Immediately his arms gave way and he was laying back down on the bed, eyes squeezed shut.

You wrapped a hand around his base, angling his cock to point upward before running your tongue along the side once more like he was a melting ice pop. You could see his lip pulled between his teeth and his eyes screwed shut in anticipation making you smirk. Jungkook always knew how to make you feel good and it was a boost to your ego to know that you too knew what made your boyfriend feel good. As his cock stood straight now, you licked along his tip, circling around the head and feeling him throb in your first when you sucked softly against his slit that produced precum.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned as he let his head fall back against rhe pillows with his hands tucked under his neck, hips raising with need to meet your mouth and make you take his cock down your throat. You grinned at the disheveled sight of your boyfriend that was caused by a little teasing and lowered your head starting back down over his balls where you knew he liked to feel your tongue first. Jungkook liked things sloppy, a bit rough and nasty. He loved having his balls played with, feeling your tongue swipe along them, sucking one into your mouth and tugging while fisting his cock. It’s exactly what you did tonight, you paid extra attention to his balls feeling his thighs tighten around you when you began to stroke his dick.

Jungkook was in ecstasy, his cock no longer needed your hand to make him stand straight, he was hard enough to do it on its own and you dug your nails into his thighs when you finally began to take him all into your mouth. A loud moan left his lips at the warm sensation of your spit coating his member, making it easier to slide him into your mouth. He could feel you try and relax your throat all around him and although the wanted to let you take your time, he was so fucking horny. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up, forcing you to take more and more of him at a quicker pace.

You shook your head no, cock in your mouth and a hand flat against his pelvis to hold him down, “Just relax, baby, I got this.”

He huffed impatiently, nodding his head as he tried to calm down, lips parting in surprise when you took him all in one go. If your mouth wasn’t full with his dick, you would’ve been smiling at the way he so easily turned to mush underneath you. You wasted no time in teasing him anymore, bobbing your head up and down while your fist strokes whatever didn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand was fondling his balls avain, squeezing them, massaging them, rubbing them against each other as you made obscene noises with your throat as you fucked him into your mouth. Jungkook’s hands closed in tight fists over the bed sheets, body caving in with how good your mouth felt on him and he was so damn close, “Fucking hell, baby, fuck.”

You could tell he was close by the way he became restless, thighs clenching and unclenching, chest rising and lowering with jagged and fast paced breath, lips drawn apart with moan after moan and it only made you double your efforts. You got rougher, faster, sloppier.

It got to the point where Jungkook had a closed fist over his eyes trying not to overwhelm himself with how good you were making him feel but it had become too much. He couldn’t take it anymore, “Okay, Y/n, there, I’m gonna cum. Come on, need to feel you—oh fuck, baby.”

His head fall back with a loud moan, spurts of thick cum coating the inside of your mouth so suddenly even you were surprised by the amount. Jungkook’s body writhed on the bed, large muscular body twitching with pleasure as he came down your throat. You gagged at the intensity, pulling your mouth away and watching it coat his own dick in it, still softly jerking him off through his orgasm.

“You okay?” You asked lovingly, stroking him as you looked down at the mess you’ve made of him. Jungkook’s eyes were a deep red that made his gaze look darker under the LED lights. His lips looked swollen and cum was all over his pelvis but he was still rock hard.

“Y/n,” his voice grew hoarse, “Need you to sit on dick, right now.”

You smiled, laughing softly as you looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 11:59pm.

“Birthday boy wants to cum in my pussy?” You asked surprisingly. The two of you rarely had sex without a condom but you were on birth control and it was his birthday… your boyfriend deserved this. As crazy as he was, he loved you and you… well, you loved him too or else why would you have stuck around? And right now, you were too turned on to care about the consequences.

Jungkook didn’t have to say anything to have you lining his cock work your wet pussy as you slid the lingerie to the side so it wasn’t in the way. As much as Jungkook loved the way it looked on you, he needed it completely off of you.

His rough fingers tugged at the seams, easily tearing it apart as you pressed his thick head between your folds. You gasped in surprise at how easily he tore threw the fabric, yanking roughly until it was in his hands and on the floor, “Baby… I’m trying to be sexy here.”

“You’re always sexy,” Jungkook said not caring about the lingerie as his hands found your hips, lowering you down his length himself, “But I like you better with nothing on.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, a small moan leaving your lips as this thick head finally made it past your broken hymen making the slide of the rest of his cock that much easier. Your hands fell flat against his chest for support as your feet pushed against the bed to help you raise your hips, his hands guiding you to bring them back down. It started off slowly, you began riding him teasingly only lifting yourself up a little, grinding your hips against his and doing it all over again.

Jungkook was fine with the pace as he took in the sight of your pretty tits in his face and he couldn’t help but move his hands to grope them, thumbs brushing over your nipples as his hips began to thrust up into yours making the slow ducking a little rougher.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly as his thick length hit that special spot at the top, rubbing against your open folds and pleasuring you so well you almost forgot this was for him and not for you. He was at the point where he didn’t care about who was supposed to be making who feel good. Anything you did to him felt good and without a care in the world he pulled you down to lay on his chest, your face against his neck as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck you from below. Your body bounced against his and with an arm tight around your lower waist and the other groping your ass, he was fully taking control to bring you to your first orgasm of the night.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked in a low whisper into your ear, cock working in and out of your tight pussy. You nodded your head, kissing his neck between moans as your cunt tightened around him, “So good.”

Jungkook took the lead with ease, grinding you against his aching member, so close to release once more. The clock had strikes midnight time ago and his phone was being flooded with birthday messages but he was too busy to care. All he had wanted for his birthday was to spend it with you and his patience had paid off.

He came home to you dressed so fucking sexy for him and with a promise that he could cum inside and that alone was bringing him closer and closer to his second orgasm, not worried about finishing too soon when he knew this wouldn’t be the last round.

Your teeth nipped are his neck, nails scratching along his nipples as you tightened around him once more, “Jun—babe, I can’t… fuck, please.”

“Cum for me, do it baby,” Jungkook urged you on, lifting a hand only to bring it back down hard on your ass hearing you squeal at the slight sting but your walls tightened all the same. His cock was reaching deep into your count every time you took him all in and all it took was one final spank, for your orgasm to hit. You released a loud moan into his ear, hearing him grunt as you clenched around and finally you felt the warmth of his release flood your insides for the first time ever.

He was left breathless, cock coated in both your arousals as you pulled yourself off of him and you both watch his release mixed with yours dribble down your legs, immediately turning him on once more. You looked up at him, smile on your face from how good your boyfriend looked after sex. You checked the time once more, hearing his phone buzz and you ran a soothing hand over his thigh and pulling some stray black petals off of him, “I’m gonna get a bath going, how does that sound, birthday boy?”

Jungkook smirked, “Sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll be back, why don’t you start responding to everyone,” you told him with a wink. When you left and he looked down at his phone, a small laugh left his lips.

joon:i hope whatever surprise y/n did for u was good bc u were a bitch to keep distracted

joon: happy birthday

joon: don’t have too much fun with your girl

::.

ugh everytime I tell myself I’m tired of romantic dreams Jungkook I just come back 😭anyways little bday drabble on KooK’s bday 🥺HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt t @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura a @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 9.7k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, talking about traumas, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt.

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You see someone in a coffee shop, and you make the first move towards a new life.

A/N: I didn't think so many of you would enjoy this story! I hope everything lives up to your expectations, we're gonna go slow with this one, but don't think that Billy and Steve won't participate in this project of yours ;)

As always, all reblogs help, tagging it as well, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

PART 2

Your eyes slowly opened, feeling completely light headed as you tried to focus all around you.

You groaned in pain as you felt a sharp sting in the back of your head and you felt the light above you blinding you, sharply. 

Where the fuck were you?

“Is she awake?” You heard a female voice talking. You tried focusing again and saw Kali’s face over yours and she smiled at you when she saw you open your eyes at her.

“She’s awake!” Kali says and you see more faces trying to come in focus over you, making you whine by how dizzy that made you. You heard Kali protesting to the other people to give you some space as she fanned your face with her hand. 

“W-Where am I?” You asked and slowly but surely, your senses started sharpening again. Below you, there was definitely a bed. Then, all the voices around you were female. And then, you smelt cinnamon, the same one as your scented candle in your room.

“Your apartment. Are you okay? Do you feel sick?” You heard Nancy ask worriedly as she held a bottle of water in her hand. Honestly, you didn’t feel sick, just plain dizzy, as if you had ran out of oxygen for a few minutes. You held onto Kali’s arm and slowly sat up, centering yourself in the room as it began to get in focus for your eyes. 

“Jesus, what happened?” You asked as you grabbed onto Nancy’s bottle and Robin looked at Nancy worriedly and then back at you.

“You fainted.” 

“That much I know Robs.”

“In front of the stripper.” You spat the sip of water you just took, dizziness completely gone now, embarrassment and shame taking over your body as an anxious knot filled in the center of your gut. Barb stepped away from in front of you just in time before she got drenched and you started coughing wildly as Vickie patted your back.

“Oh god, now I am gonna be sick.” You say as nausea fills your stomach thanks to how humiliated you felt. You just remembered his brown eyes, looking at you, getting closer and closer to you. You winced as you tried to imagine his face when you simply blacked out in front of him. How pathetic it must have been for him. 

“Yeah, you’ve been out for thirty minutes.” You groaned loudly at Barb’s words and you looked at Nancy. You were so embarrassed for ruining her night, and even making all of them go through all of this. 

“Nance, I am so sorry. Words can’t describe how stupid I feel for this… I should have waited in the car, or in the bathroom, or away from the stage…” You hid your face in your hands as tears started to fill in your eyes. You felt so weak, so small because of this issue of yours. You made your friends end their fun night because of you.

“No, no! I shouldn’t have even considered a strip club knowing one of my bridesmaids doesn’t do good in a place like that!” Nancy replies, trying to make you realize she didn’t mind, but you were too far gone to notice that. How many more nights will you screw up in this way?

You remembered your prom night. Because of your shyness, you were always the target for bullying, and boys didn’t help at all with your case. They pulled your hair, got close to your face to tease you, grabbed your shoulders, caged you against the wall just to see you squeal in fear. 

So that night, you decided to try and be brave, only to be cornered inside the boy’s bathroom by three guys from the soccer team. They were telling you they could cure you if you’d only suck their dicks. That was all you needed. Thankfully, Kali smashed into the bathroom with a fire extinguisher and sprayed the men on the spot. She had seen you being pulled aside, and in your shock, you didn’t pull away, nor ran. 

That was a dangerous situation, but this one… This one was plainly humiliating. Embarrassing. Pathetic. 

The poor guy was just doing his job, and he had to see you crumble in front of him, just by his mere sight and touch. He was supposed to make you feel desired, and you cannot even imagine how he felt when you just fainted on him. Eddie. Poor Eddie.

“Hey, if he didn’t catch you in time, you would have hit your neck on the back of your chair.” You looked up to see Robin speaking to you.

“He helped me?”

“He even carried you to my car. Told me to drive safe and all.” Robin didn’t tell you, just to spare you from more embarrassment, but she explained your condition to Eddie and Joyce who were feeling responsible for what happened to you. The guy looked confused really, but didn’t press more than that and just waved all of you off. 

You were looking at Robin and then you looked at your arms. He had wrapped his arms around you, and lifted you in bridal style to carry you away. You sighed as you cursed at yourself for only being able to tolerate something like that when you were completely out and not conscious at all. 

You wanted to feel hands like that awake. You wanted to be able to enjoy a handsome man pampering you. You wanted to kiss a hot guy. You wanted and needed to be fucked with someone you felt attracted to, completely, not just barely. 

“Oh, sweetheart don’t cry… It really isn’t a big deal…” Kali wiped your tear away, one you didn’t even feel dropping, but she didn’t understand. It is a big deal. No one understands you, no one knows what this feels like. No one knows how you feel about this. No one gets it. 

You just wished you could be normal.

It’s been a week since that night, and you tried. You were seriously trying. 

But you were now in your fourth coffee shop, parking your car, because the last three you’ve been at, the baristas, were young men. As soon as you entered the doors and saw the counter and the man behind it, you immediately left. 

After that night, it seemed as if your shyness and your nervousness only worsened just by how humiliating those events were. You couldn’t even turn on your camera at the team meetings of your workplace, which thankfully, it was 100% from home. You worked at a big company just as an administrator, and it paid well so you didn’t complain.

Now, on a friday, you look forward to the afternoon coffee, and you were happy to see that in your fourth coffee place, you found a woman at the front counter. You walked towards her as you looked into your wallet, looking for cash.

“Hi! What can I get you?” You heard her cheery voice and you looked up with a smile.

“Hello, um… Just a medium coffee with a bit of creamer please.” She nodded at you and you handed her the money so she could go and start preparing you coffee. She asked for your name and told you she would call you once it was done. You nodded at that and stepped aside, grabbing your phone to scroll through your instagram. 

You smiled when seeing the stories of Robin. She was posting about how boring her classes were at nursing school. Then you jumped over to Nancy’s which was a picture of her and Jonathan. Your smile faltered a little at that.

Jonathan was a handsome guy, and when you met him you didn’t feel that immense shyness you always felt. You never knew why, because deep inside you, you knew he was attractive. Yet, you could shake hands with him, and engage in conversation as if it were a natural thing for you to do. 

A deep voice came from next to you, and your eyes widened. You knew that voice. You recognized it, because last time it vibrated so close to your ear, it had settled in the deep of your stomach. You slowly side eyed, turning your head just a bit and you held in the gasp as you felt your body grow a cold sweat. 

“The usual, Princess.”

Oh fuck. Shit. Son of a bitch. 

You could see his hair tied up in a bun, some specks of unshaved beard covered his jaw, and the smell. You could smell the wooden cologne. Kind of leathery like. You turned your head as you felt your whole face turn a deep shade of red, and it almost felt like it moved all over your body. 

Your fingertips felt like they were sweating, and the knot in your stomach was moving all around. She took his order and you stepped aside trying to create some space between you two. You looked away so he wouldn’t recognize your face, because if he did, you were sure you would die. 

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and you were looking at the barista’s every move. She was preparing your coffee now, and his presence was just overwhelming you entirely. You wanted, no, NEEDED, to bolt right out of there. You could hear him yawn as he stood next to you, and your nerves were going insane right now. You heard your name being called out, snapping you out of your almost panic attack. 

“Thank you…” You said almost in a whisper as you took the coffee in your hands. You didn’t waste a single second, turning away and rushing out of the shop, taking a deep breath in of the clear oxygen. Now, you don’t really think it would be adequate to fill your body with caffeine when your nerves were this bad, but you already paid for it. 

Your heart was on the verge of exploding as you took many deep breaths in. You should apologize to him, or say thank you for helping your friends carry you out of the club, but here you were, running once again. Like you always did. 

But is it something you really want to do? Do you want to keep running?

You turned around and saw him through the window, taking slow sips of his coffee as he looked through his phone. His profile was already making you sweat by just how good looking he was, without even trying, with the afternoon sun hitting him in the right places. 

You wanted a normal life. You wanted to be able to feel attraction. You wanted to be kissed passionately. You wanted physical touch. You wanted to be normal, simply normal. 

So your feet moved. They guided you towards the doors again. They guided you into the shop. The girl looked at you with confusion over the counter and then you turned, going towards the booth where the man was seated at.

Eddie though, didn’t even acknowledge you. He was tired, too spent from last night's show. He was grabbed onto more than usual, and he had done several personal lap dances. Everything was good money of course, and he knew he sealed his fate into being the favorite one the moment he agreed on being physical with clients. No more than a kiss, or some holding, but that made him wanted. 

He didn’t mind really, but when the ladies would take advantage of that and touch him, when they knew they shouldn’t, drove him up a wall. He wasn’t going to lie and say he didn’t bang one or two clients per week, sometimes for money, sometimes for his pleasure. This was all his doing. Joyce was against them doing that, but his colleagues, and himself, found out that their dicks can get them two thousand a night.

He didn’t even notice until a shadow casted over him, that made him look up, that you had sat right in front of him, making him frown in confusion because… You weren’t looking at him. You were looking downwards and he could almost see the steam coming out of one of your ears.

“Um–”

“I’M SORRY.” He jumped at the high pitched loud tone, almost a squeak, making him shake his coffee a little bit on his hand. 

“Jesus christ!” It was too late for loud noises, and much more for apologies he didn’t have a clue on why they were being said to him. And from a girl who wasn’t even looking at him. You were trembling, looking at your lap, because that apology came out way too embarrassing for your own good, and now you wanted nothing more but to crawl and disappear into thin air.

You stayed silent, trying to form words in your throat, but you could only feel the lump forming, and you cursed at yourself internally because you thought you were making progress by sitting in front of him, but now that you made a fool out of yourself, once again, you wanted to run away. But his voice stopped you.

“Holy shit, it’s you. The girl who fainted.”

Your blood went cold. Of course you would be remembered as that. Shit, everyone that night will remember you as the pathetic girl who fainted in the arms of a stripper. Your knuckles went white on your lap as you gripped them tightly, trying to fight the urge of running away. Your voice was still not found but there was no need because he kept talking.

“Are you alright? After that night?” He was asking for your wellbeing. This guy who didn’t even know you was asking if you were doing okay. You had to answer, you had to say something. Anything, just move your lips, make the air come out.

“Yes…” You almost mumbled it, but it was something. Eddie was squinting at you, his phone long forgotten on the table as he inspected you. He gave a small smirk, even if you weren’t looking at him, he just couldn’t help himself.

“And I thought your friend made up a horrible excuse for you that night, saying you were shy against men. I can see that she wasn’t lying.” Your body jerked up at that, your eyes widening and your head lifting up slightly, focused on his cup and he was finally able to see your face. You were beet red, making him smirk even more.

“Y-You were doing a great job! It’s m-my fault for trying to be strong and staying there!” Did you just say he was doing a great job? That formally? To a stripper? You winced at your words, ready to stand up and walk away but the sound of his laughter stopped you, and you wanted to look up, but you knew that it was going to make you freeze in place. 

“Thank you darling. I guess I appreciate the feedback.” He noticed how you jumped slightly at the nickname he gave you and he cleared his throat. “I guess I do, in fact, owe you an apology myself…”

At that, your eyebrow raised up, not looking at him, but staring at his phone this time, just trying to not meet his gaze at all. Why would he need to apologize to you?

“You didn’t do anything w-wrong!” You stuttered at the last words, but you were surprised to have found your voice quicker this time. 

“Well, Billy told me that there was a girl that needed her friend’s help to put a bill in his jeans. He told me what you looked like and what table you were at… You were my target that night.” You froze at those words, and the knots in your belly started tangling even more, not understanding why he would target you like that. “Shit, I didn’t know you actually had a problem with men, I mean… You were at a strip club, Sweets.” 

You couldn’t help the small huff that escaped your lips with the hint of a smile on your lips. It did sound quite stupid if he said it like that. He stared at your reactions, taking a sip out of his coffee and you could see the movement from the corner of your eye, reminding you that you have some coffee in your hand as well. You took a sip too, feeling the warmth in your throat, soothing out the dryness this interaction provoked in you.

“It was… My best friend’s bachelorette party…” You explained to him and he was still not understanding where you were getting at, so he stayed silent for you to elaborate which made your nerves peak up again. “I-I didn’t want t-to bail on her.” You stuttered again as you talked about your feelings to a stranger who grinded on you a few nights back.

“Ah. I see. Next time you go to a place like that, wear a sign or something around your neck. You know, like the dogs that wear a harness that say ‘Nervous’.” Those words coming out of his mouth finally made you open your mouth as a giggle came out. You covered your mouth to stop your laughing but he caught you way off guard.

Eddie was still staring at you, a bit of pride in himself as he saw you laughing because of him, and he was glad you got to loosen up a little bit in his presence. He was curious, way too curious for his own good. Ever since he got this job with his friends, roommates even, all the women he met were straightforward, knowing what they wanted, hands roaming without fear all over his body. Yet you are here, embarrassed for laughing in front of him.

And your eyes still never met his.

“Why did you approach me darling?” 

Your giggles stopped immediately, and your eyes slightly widened as you put your hands around your coffee again. Your heart was simply exploding now, and the tips of your fingers were tapping on the cup, trying to steady a normal breathing pace in your lungs, in sync. You were being engulfed by flames, and it worsened each time you remembered that his gaze was on you.

But you didn’t want to feel like this, which irritated you even more.

“I-I want help.” At that, Eddie raised his eyebrow in question, but he rested against the booth, waiting for you to continue. You stayed silent for a minute, noticing that he was being patient with you, acknowledging the fact that this wasn’t easy for you to do, and the knot in your stomach detangled just a bit, loosening up enough for you to keep talking. “I want to be normal.”

Eddie’s eyebrows twitched at that. You didn’t think you were normal just because you had this situation going on with yourself. He felt a little sad for you, and he couldn’t even imagine for how long you really struggled with this. 

“I want– I want to be able to have a normal life…” You pressed on and he was slowly understanding where you were getting at, and he looked at your cup, seeing your name written on it. 

“Right… And you want my help with what exactly?” 

“I want to fight this… this shyness… I don’t want to be nervous anymore. I am tired of making a scene or embarrassing myself because of it. I don’t want my friends to accommodate to my needs everytime we go out…” You didn’t even notice that you did not stutter once at those statements. Statements you were fully aware of yourself and you were fed up with. Eddie, obviously, noticed, raising his eyebrows up, losing themselves under the small fringe of his curls.

He was looking at you, wondering how this day turned completely on its axis and now you were sitting in front of him, shaking like a deer in front of some headlights, but still voicing your worries out. He was skeptical really, not knowing if this was all a farce to get in his pants for free. 

He wasn’t going to lie, he would fuck you for free. You were pretty, but you didn’t make an effort to show that off. Your clothes were bland, your make up was just some blush on your cheeks, and your hair was tied up in a ponytail. 

But if your intentions were to sleep with him, you wouldn’t have said what you said next.

“I w-will pay you! I just want to– be able to talk eye to eye…” His heart clenched slightly at that. You didn’t want him to teach you sexual stuff, or something of the sort… You just wanted to be able to talk to him properly, or any man for that matter. He gave a small nod, as if in thought, even if you weren’t even looking at him. 

His life has been very monotonous lately. For the past year to be exact. It was work, women, eat, sleep, shower, and do it all over again, every single day. He didn’t know if his roommates felt the same, but he knew that Steve started pottery classes, and then Billy had gotten the hobby of playing video games in his free time. 

Yet Eddie didn’t have the motivation to do anything. Until now. 

This was new, intriguing, and something that might ignite some fire in his everyday mundane life. So he reached his hand out towards you, and you looked at his ringed fingers with wide eyes, wondering what was going on.

“First things first. Presentation. I’m Eddie.” He said to you and his hand was waiting patiently. You gulped as you stared down at it, but then realization hit you. He was going to help you with this, and a flame of happiness ignited in you, slowly reaching out and putting your palm against his. You noticed the different size and the warmth of his skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You gave him your name in a stutter and he grinned when he closed his hand on yours and saw you stiffen slightly, so he softened his grip, to then move your hands up and down gently in greeting. He pulled away, and you put your hand onto your lap as quickly as you could. Your whole body was ablaze, still looking at his phone to not clash eyes with him. 

“I-I can pay you–”

“Nothing.” Your eyes widened at that, raising an eyebrow up in question and you almost raised your head to look at him. “You look really shaken by this, and taking money from you doesn’t really sit right with me… And who knows, maybe this will blossom into an odd friendship.” 

Those words slipped out of his mouth before he could help it, and a slight pink tint formed on his cheeks. He really did crave for another friendship, already getting tired of just being with Billy and Steve. They are great, and they are almost like brothers, but maybe that was the thing. It was just those two, and no one else. 

You on the other hand turned a deep red at that, feeling your heart banging in your chest, not being able to take it anymore and you grab his phone, startling him completely and his eyes went wide at the action, but you didn’t move from the seat. You opened the dial without unlocking the phone, sliding up from the right corner of the screen and you pressed your cell phone number in there. 

You slid it back to him and stood up, not being able to handle the pressure of his stare any longer and he held onto his phone to look down at the number on it. His eyebrows centered in the middle with a frown and he raised his head up only to see you gone, turning his head around until he saw you rushing out of the shop through the window and into your car. 

He looked down at his screen, biting the inside of his cheek. He looked at his cup and saw the number of the barista under his name. She had tried many times to put her number down in his cup, but he never saved it on his phone. He looked down on your number, a scoff coming out of his lips.

“Hmm...”

You had been screaming into your pillow for the past half hour. 

You cannot believe what you did two hours ago. You gave your number to a stripper. To a goddamn stripper. And you even asked for help with this issue of yours, but what if it came out wrongly? What if he thought you were asking him to help you sexually? It didn’t really feel like that but what if you didn’t read the air right?

It was an impulse. A goddamn impulse, but you were fine, it was all going to be okay, because you left your phone, and maybe he doesn’t even indulge in this stupidity of yours and move on, or maybe he deletes it by mistake and everything will be back as it was before.

You stopped screaming at that.

But you didn’t want to go back to before. That’s why you took that chance, and you have to look at the positive side of all of this. You sat in front of him, you talked to him, you shook his hand! You shook a handsome man’s hand! That’s improvement, a lot of it. Yes, if you put your mind to it, maybe you can change this stupid part of yourself.

You remembered his voice. Deep but with a hint of mischief behind it, and then those words that sounded hopeful yet sad. How he managed to say that the two of you could become friends in the meantime. You wondered what his daily life was like now, outside of his job. Who did he live with? How old is he? What is his favorite food?

You grabbed your phone as you turned to look up at your ceiling. You unlocked your phone to start scrolling through TikTok. You smiled at all the dog videos that showed up on your For You page and saved all those cooking and baking tips you found. You were startled from your trance of scrolling when your phone started ringing. The beautiful sound ‘The Shire’ from The Lord of the Rings filled your ears which helped a lot to the anxious feeling of talking on the phone. Who did that nowadays?

You looked at the number and it was not saved on your phone. Should you answer? Maybe it’s a telemarketer. Did you forget to pay a bill? Internet? No, you paid all of those. Your eyes widened in realization.

What if it’s him?

You were about to start trembling and in your fuss you pressed the Answer button and you almost cried out as you started hearing the other side of the phone. 

‘We are calling to ensure you have the best communication serv–’

And you hang up, fucking automatic calls. You let out a sigh of relief until you felt that it wasn’t that much of relief at the end of it. Something felt uneasy within you, like something was not right. A certain disappointment maybe? Did you want him to be the one calling you? But that would be too much for you to handle, definitely. 

You sighed, sitting up on the bed, scratching your head until a soft ‘Ting’ on your phone caught your attention. You looked down on the notifications and it was a message from an unknown number. Your eyes widened when you looked into the text preview.

‘I believe that in text form, you won’t be too shy to talk to me.’

Your heart got caught in your throat as you begin to cough desperately. You weren’t expecting something from him so soon, and it startled you completely. You held onto your chest as you read the text again, and again and again… You didn’t feel the blood flowing at the tip of your fingers, his image coming up in your head. His side profile of today, but then his face up close to you, in the middle of purple and pink lights in the club.

You clenched your eyes tightly, trying to move the images away. You took a deep breath in and unlocked your phone, heading over to the text. First, you saved his contact, because you might forget right? Then you put in a personal notification message because you just felt like it, but maybe if you do that, you can also put in a special ringtone as well? You didn’t do that for everyone but you were feeling like–

You were stalling. You were definitely stalling. 

You gulped as you went back to the screen, now with the title ‘E’ because you didn’t want to receive a message from him when you were with your friends. They knew his name, so might as well tell them it’s Eleanor from work. 

You started typing ‘Hi’ but he didn’t start with hello, so you erased that. Maybe a ‘how are you’ or ‘how has your day been going’ but that really doesn’t sound right either, he didn’t ask you that at all. You deleted it again and were about to type in again until you saw the three dots that signaled you that he was typing.

‘Even on text? Damn, I wonder how many texts you just wrote and deleted.’

He caught you, red handed, and you took a deep breath in, pushing your embarrassment away as you started typing.

‘Not many.’ You were already biting the skin on the side of your left thumb thanks to your pumping heart, which only increased its beats every time you saw the three dots from his side.

‘Really? I bet you wrote ‘Hey handsome’ and deleted it, right?’

You giggled at that, feeling your nerves loosen up a bit at his cheekiness and you typed once more.

‘Oh, sure, whatever strokes your ego.’

‘That hurt princess.’ 

Your breath hitched at the endearment. 

‘You’ll survive.’

‘Black is not a color.’

‘Not you too with that bullshit. 🙄’

‘But it’s not, it’s a shade, as well as white!’

‘It’s my favorite color, a color, and that’s final.’

You giggled at the banter you were creating with Eddie over some texts. It’s been a week since you saw him and it’s been a week since you both started texting each other. They’re not long conversations really, just an hour a day or less, and it always starts with Eddie asking you something about yourself.

On Monday, it was your work. He made a lot of funny comments about how he is an accountant when you knew what his job actually is. Then Tuesday was about your favorite animal, in which you said Dog and he said bats. He told you he actually has a swarm of bats tattooed on his right forearm. Then food on wednesday, and favorite drink on thursday.

Today was about your favorite colors. 

Yours was red, sometimes purple, while Eddie claims that his favorite color is black. You were having fun messing with him, smiling at the phone as the nerves in your belly were kept to a minimum. You were surprised how loose you got when you received his texts, and it was almost as if you were excited when they did. 

“Why are you so smiley?” You blinked and looked up, completely forgetting you were having coffee with Robin at the Starbucks near your apartment complex. Robin actually got an apartment three floors down from yours and you were happy that you have a close friend as a neighbor. 

“Oh, um… El sent me a meme.” You lie, feeling your chest compress at it. You didn’t want to lie to your friends, but you were doing this behind their backs because you didn’t need the encouragement. You wanted to do this on your own, without the need of your friends overprotecting you as if you were a piece of paper that might rip apart at any comment a man does to you.

“Right…” She sipped on her coffee as another notification made you look down at the screen, and you went pale at what you saw. It was a message from Eddie, yes, but the anxiety started filling your stomach as you read what he wrote to you.

‘We should hang out this weekend. Test the waters.’

He was asking you out. Well not asking you out, more like hang out, as friends, but, oh no. You were feeling nauseous, the memory of his face, and his stomach showing coming up in your mind. You don’t think you will be able to tolerate it, and you don’t even know if you can trust this guy. You haven’t told your friends about Eddie, and if you went missing or something–

“IT’S EDDIE.” You blurted out, startling Robin, your panic winning completely over you. She spat the coffee, coughing loudly as she punched her chest a few times, trying to recover herself. You on the other hand were slightly panting from the anxiety that was eating you up, but the need to feel protected won you over. 

“What!?” 

“I AM TALKING WITH EDDIE.” You said again loudly, making various customers turn their heads at the commotion and Robin made you lower your voice with a big ‘shh’ and a hand movement. 

“Eddie… Who the fuck is Eddi– Oh, WHAT?!” Now the customers turned their heads at Robin’s explosion. You were clutching your phone to your chest and you could feel your eyes beginning to heat up from the tears that were threatening to leave them. 

“I know, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to lie, but-but–” 

“Why are you talking to–” Robin looked around and bent over a little closer to whisper to you. “To the stripper?! Are you nuts?!”

“I mean– I might? I don’t know? I–” You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes as Robin sighed in front of you. “I just need help… Being normal…” Robin’s eyes turned those into sad ones as she looked up at you. She stood up, putting her hand out for you to take.

“Tell me all about it while we head back to your place.”

“Yep, you are definitely crazy.”

You were pacing back and forth while Robin watched you from the couch, looking down at all the texts you’ve sent Eddie. But even if she did call you crazy, your friend was proud of you because she never thought you would tell a man about your favorite things. She also didn’t expect this Eddie guy to actually be gentle with you, never crossing a line, never flirting with you.

She wondered if his intentions were pure and when you told him he didn’t accept the money, Robin was baffled. Now, the true reason as to why you had told her about this, is because of his last message. He didn’t pressure you into saying yes, so that was a green flag, and it also lets someone know who you were with last in case the worst case scenario happens.

“I know I am crazy Robin, I fucking know, it was an impulse–”

“But I think it’s working… I mean, maybe he can actually figure out what’s going on in that head of yours.” You gulped at that and continued pacing. Nothing traumatic with men happened to you, the absence of your father and the multiple cheating on your mother helped, but it didn’t explain the reason as to why it was almost as if you were terrified of men. Attractive men at that. 

You had of course the bullying at primary school, and then all the way to high school, but you cannot really pinpoint anything too cruel. 

“Robin, I– I don’t even know him. What if he makes a move on me?” You would probably pass out and he would have access to do whatever. You really don’t know the guy, even if he seems trustworthy on text messages, that’s just what they are. Text messages. He could be lying, he could be pretending to be something he is not, and you can’t read his face or his movements. Not that you would if you were in person either, because you can’t fucking look at him.

“I don’t think– Look, invite him to the bar three blocks down, just the two of you, and don’t make a fuss about it. He seems cool, and he never overstepped from what I’ve seen… Nothing with a double meaning either.” She was trying to reassure you, to help you with it. For some reason Robin had a feeling that you didn’t cross paths with the stripper again just out of pure coincidence. She was a fair believer of fate, and karma. 

“I– I mean it is public, a bar.” She gave you a nod and handed you the phone. You took it into your trembling fingers, looking down at the messages.

“Yes, and you have me as your emergency contact. You just have to press the lock button 5 times and I know where to get you.” That statement actually calms you a lot. And the fact that you would be at a bar three blocks away from home was also bringing you relief. “Remember, this is not a date… He is not asking you out romantically.”

“Right, I know that, as a friend.” You replied to her, giving Robin a nod as you felt another uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t describe once more. You looked down at your phone, and licked your lips, gulping loudly as you typed in your response.

‘Does tomorrow at 6, the bar between Monroe ST. and Chadwick sound good to you?’

You almost threw the phone towards Robin, feeling yourself cringe at the risky message you just sent, but if you truly think hard about it, he was the one who sent it first. Robin caught your phone as it trembled in your hand. She heard a popping sound and looked down at the screen, a smirk breaking on her lips.

“Sounds perfect, and I will give you a whole presentation on why Black is indeed a color."

You were trying to calm your nerves as you looked at the watch, every now and then on your phone. It’s already 6:05 PM and he didn’t show. It’s only five minutes late, but maybe he bailed?

But he was the one who asked you, why would he bail? But maybe he regretted it? Oh god, did he have to work today? You invited him without even asking and maybe he has a full night and you didn’t even think of–

“Parking around here is a pain in the ass Princess.” You heard his voice as he passed by you, sitting at the seat of the booth in front of you. You felt your body tensing up, and you were now self conscious of your clothes. But it wasn’t a date, so you dressed normally, and you applied a bit of mascara. You weren’t good at doing your own makeup so you settled for the simplest of things, because if you tried to do something, it would be worse than nothing.

Your eyes immediately drifted to the napkin holder on the side as you tried to gather up courage to talk to him. He sighed and put his phone on the table, right in front of him, which made your gaze drive to that. He did it so that he could see your face instead of your profile, taking note that last time you were together, your eyes didn’t leave his phone.

From your point of view you could see his shirt, which was a black simple t-shirt with an Iron Maiden illustration on it. You wanted to know what he looked like right now, and given from what you could smell of his perfume, he must look nice. 

“Sweets, I need you to cooperate with me here. We talked all week on the phone, I assure you it’s no different than using your voice.” You blinked once and maybe that was the trick. You just have to imagine this is just texting, as if you were reading your messages out loud.

“I-I know that…” The curiosity was killing you at this point, but you wanted to make sure of something first. “Do you work tonight? I didn’t even ask you before…” He was surprised at your question, and he smirked slightly, nodding. Once he realized you still weren’t looking at him, he sighed as he opened his mouth again.

“Yeah, but not till 10 PM. Jason and Billy are on the early shift today.” He explained to you and that is actually a lot of time to talk to him. You didn’t think you would stand being with him, looking at his phone for more than an hour. You felt another presence approaching and you looked up to your side, seeing the waitress coming up.

“Ready to order?” She gave you a small smile and you nodded.

“A beer, please.” She put it down and turned to Eddie, her smile widening as you watched her interact with him. He must really look nice if this woman was smiling like that. Why can't you be like her? Why do you have to be so nervous about it all? You wanted to smile at a cute boy, not barf on him or pass out on the spot.

“Same as her.” Was his short reply. Your gaze went back down towards his phone as the waitress retreated to get your drinks. You wondered how he looked at her. Did he smile? Did he wink? Did he keep a serious face on? “Didn’t take you to be a beer kind of girl.”

“Oh, well, it’s really my drink of choice, but a sweet drink I like too sometimes.” You replied, keeping your gaze on his phone, imagining that everytime he talked to you, a small ‘Ting’ of a notification sounded in your ears.

“I like beer too, but I am more into the bitter kind of stuff.” He replied to you and you now burnt all over because you didn’t know how to keep the conversation flowing. Gladly, the waitress returned quickly with the two bottles of beer opened and ready to drink. You grabbed yours and saw Eddie’s hand wrapping around his own bottle, leaning it towards you. You gulped and clinked your bottle to his.

“To cure your shyness sweetheart.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips at that small sweet touch. Giving a cheer for you, even in the short lapse of knowing each other, made your heart calm down just a tiny bit as you took your first sip of the bottle. Eddie caught on the smile you gave and was about to talk when your phone rang.

You looked at the caller and saw it was Robin. Your eyes widened, realizing you didn’t tell her you were already with Eddie. It was kind of a safe protocol, tell her you arrived, tell her he arrived, and keep her updated if you remembered to do so. You had sent her your live location as well, keeping you safe at all times. You declined the call and immediately sent her a message to tell her you were with Eddie already and that everything seemed ok.

Eddie though, was wide eyed, staring at you.

“Was that the flute of The Shire?”

You blinked at your phone and you almost looked up thanks to your surprise. He liked The Lord of The Rings? You weren’t a super fan of it, but the soundtrack had captivated you since you were a kid. 

“I, yes–”

“Holy shit… Look, I only got my little brother to talk this with, and– I just never expected you to like something like that.” He replied, a wide grin on his face. You gulped, a blush on your cheeks. So he has a brother, another small detail of his life.

“I could say the same about you…” He chuckled at that, nodding at the thought.

“Never saw a Stripper being a total nerd?” He replied and you snorted at that, followed by a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. He was thinking, wondering of a way to get you to look at him. “Is it your favorite movie Saga?”

“Oh, um… No, not really. Harry Potter is my favorite.” He was surprised at that answer, taking a sip of his beer, tapping his finger on the table. He didn’t know much about it, but he never really took the time to watch the movies chronologically. He had an idea of the main story, of course, but never knew the details.

“I like the fifth movie, the one with the hippogriff.” He said and your eyebrows pulled to the center in a frown at that.

“That’s the third movie…” You replied at that and he scratched his head, thinking hard as he tried to remember the small details.

“Really? Then wait, the fifth one is not the one with the snake right?” He tried again and you felt something in your belly, something like annoyance but not quite. 

“You never watched them correctly?” He shrugged at that.

“Never found the time, or cared enough to do so… Plus, the scenery is nothing like The Lord of the Rings.” And Eddie’s eyes immediately widened, his voice gone, and his hand clenching against the bottle in his hand.

“Okay, first of all, the scenery is fucking amazing, the shots are beautiful and they got them in real places and added CGI on them. Then, the soundtrack I admit, is nothing like The Lord of the Rings, but you can’t deny that all of the music in the movies are nostalgic and majestic. Also, the character designs are incredible, outfit wise and then we have all the spells! Everything is magical from the first movie to the last!” You replied to him with exasperation. You knew about Harry Potter, and you weren’t going to let him talk about your favorite thing like that.

“Ah, yes, I am not shaming it sweets, I just prefer the latter. Plus, I never understood that part of the movie where the bad guy returns from a diary? I mean…” He continued, trying to not show his surprise to you so you wouldn’t stop. You took another sip and continued talking.

“That would be the second movie, and it was a figment of a memory implanted in the diary. The diary was part of Voldemort’s soul, a horrocrux which helped him be sort of immortal.” You pressed on, throwing your knowledge at him. 

“Immortal?”

“He has seven horrocruxes in total, so he split his soul in seven parts. You had to destroy all seven in order to finally be able to kill him properly. You have to watch all of the movies in order to understand all of this! Or read all of the books!” You finished your blabbering with almost a pant.

“Sweets.”

“What?” You scoffed out and he chuckled, smiling at you.

“You’ve been talking to me, looking at me in the face, since you started ranting about Harry Potter.”

You froze, realizing that your eyes were looking into his brown ones. His hair was down, over his shoulders, the stubble you saw that day on his chin was gone, freshly shaved, and over his shirt he had a black leather jacket on. His dimples were showing as he smiled at you, and the knot in the stomach was there, it definitely was, urging you to run away.

But it didn’t urge you to look away. 

He squinted slightly as he inspected you. You weren’t looking away, which is a good sign, but you stopped talking all together. He was thinking, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he thought.

“What’s your favorite movie? Not Saga, movie.” He asked and you slightly snapped out of your trance, absorbing the way his mouth moved as he talked to you.

“T-Titanic.” He rolled his eyes at that and you slumped slightly as an angry frown came to your eyebrows again.

“Really? That cliché sweetheart?” Your mouth almost hung open at his words, feeling offended by him saying that about your favorite film.

“It’s a fucking masterpiece!” You replied to him and he sighed, leaning on the table as he took a sip of his beer again, and you followed afterwards to wet your dry throat.

“Indulge me, how is that romantic movie a masterpiece?”

“Well, I am noticing you are not the romantic type of guy, but looking past that, the scenes? The music and ambience are outstanding, and for it being a movie of 1997, it was so amazingly done! Not to mention that James Cameron was the first ever person to get clear images of the actual wreckage.” You replied, taking another sip and he was still looking at you.

He lied to you. He also thought Titanic was a masterpiece. But he came to realize something, but he needed to test something else first, just to make sure that his suspicions were correct.

“So you just said I am not the romantic type of guy… Does that mean you are? I mean, I want to understand right now, but with this thing you got going on… Did you ever… do anything?” He asked you, actually curious about it and you felt the knot in the stomach form once more, the lump in your throat suddenly blocking your voice and you immediately looked down towards his phone again, a deep crimson covering your cheeks.

“It’s… Not that I am a virgin– I don’t…” And Eddie’s head almost made a ‘ding’ sound. It had clicked the moment you stared into his eyes without noticing and you talked about something you liked. 

“I know what’s going on.” He softly muttered, very low but you could hear it, your eyebrows frowning at that. “Also, I didn’t bring my powerpoint presentation, sorry about that, but Black is a color, I mean, I am wearing it all right now.” He was at this again? You looked up at him, completely wide eyed, not believing he was still adamant about black being an actual color.

“Seriously Eddie, you can google it and it will tell you it’s a shade! I took art lessons in school, and the professor was always very strict on not calling white and black colors!” You were looking at him again. He nodded in thought and tapped the table, slumping back against the booth. He was staring at you, deep in his own mind, and you suddenly grew nervous at his stare. “What?”

“I know what’s happening here, in your mind that is.” You blinked in surprise at that, the statement taking you completely off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“Whenever you are confident about something you know, you have no trouble talking to me. You have no trouble talking to me about things you are passionate about, or have experience in.” 

You were dumbfounded. You never thought of something like that happening to you, but now some things clicked inside your head. You didn’t talk with your male coworkers, no… But when a new hire would enter the company and you had to train them? You had no problem. Then when meeting Jonathan, he was attractive, yes… But… you were excited that Nancy is happy with him.

“Holy shit…” You muttered with wide eyes and he nodded at you with a small smile appearing in his lips to then fade away.

“Yeah… But it means that your confidence level is low. Like, confidence in yourself. That’s why you can barely talk sometimes, or you don’t look up to meet my gaze, or well… looked up, past tense.” He smiled at you, and it made your cheeks flush, but still your head was spiraling at his words. 

You weren’t confident in yourself?

“You mean… like my self-esteem?” You asked, and he sighed, giving you a small nod which made your stomach sink.

“I don’t know about your past, and honestly you don’t have to tell me. But maybe we can do some baby steps…” 

“Baby steps?” He took a sip of his beer and nodded, leaning on the table as he put his hand out to start counting with his fingers.

“First, why don’t you wear makeup? Is it because you are allergic or…?” 

“Uh, no… I’m not very good at it.”

“Have you tried tutorials?” You shook your head, a small feeling of shame coming up your throat. “Okay, so that’s step one. Watch some, practice. I am not saying you need makeup, but it helps a lot with your ego. Trust me, when I put on eyeliner I feel like I can conquer the world.” He says with a chuckle and you tilt your head with curiosity pricking at the tip of your tongue.

“You wear makeup?”

“Hell yeah, makes me look pretty.” He smiles at you and you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. You couldn’t believe this man in front of you had a job like the one he has. “Step two, your clothes too.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You say with an offended tone and he just stares at you.

“Seriously? You wear bland colors. Put a little bit of sparkle in it, something you might feel sexy in, or pretty, but you have to feel it. You don’t dress for others, only for yourself.” You tried to remember your closet, and you hated to admit he was right. All your shirts were simple, none of them were tank tops, none of them had nice cuts on the cleavage, or were tight… Your jeans were all the same, and you never wore dresses or skirts, no matter if you really wanted to.

You just never thought you’d look good in them.

Oh fuck… He actually might have found the problem. 

“Third, be confident in your voice. We’re going to slowly work on it, but I think you are headed in the right direction, just not quite.” He replied to you and he watched how your face contorted into confused frowns and then understanding ones as if you were realizing so many things in your head. 

“You mean to be able to, for example… Ask things?” He pointed a finger at you with a smile to his face.

“And there’s the first one. Yes… Till now I was the one engaging in conversations, being in text form or here. I was the one asking you all the questions.” You gave him a nod in understanding, feeling the knot in the stomach not so strongly as before. He is attractive, yes, but he is not making moves, or comments, or anything to put you in a nervous state. The nervousness was still there, and you still struggled to keep eye to eye contact, but you were facing him.

“I see… So, I gotta go shopping then?” You say with a small smile on your face and he chuckles at you, nodding, taking a sip of his beer.

“Remember, dress for you. Not for the other people around you. If you feel confident in it, then it’s all that matters. By confident, I don’t necessarily mean comfortable, but that can also help.” You were staring at him as if you had found a personal god of some sort. This man, this male stripper, was giving you better advice than any therapist ever gave you, than your FRIENDS ever gave you in fact. 

You were grateful for them, but they never understood that you wanted to get better. Instead, they always made sure to make you comfortable whenever you all went out together, always protected you when men approached your group, but never once helped you make the leap of getting better, of trying to be normal like them. They just accepted you the way you are.

But you didn’t want to be accepted like this. Not anymore.

“What is your favorite movie?” You asked him, and his eyes slightly widened at that, surprised by the change of conversation, but it seems you caught on in what you had to do. He smiled and laid back on the booth.

“Okay, what do you think my favorite movie is? Just by looking at me.” He says, flipping his hair over his shoulder and you giggled, as you looked at him. The nerves in your belly started forming again as you scanned his features, but you were trying to fight against it, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.

You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and you didn’t want to judge him. But he was asking you himself, right? And if you say something wrong it can be directed as a joke, but maybe he doesn’t like it? Maybe he thinks you are throwing yourself on him? WHat if you say something insinuating to him and you didn’t realize it? What would he say–

“You’re thinking too much about it. Stop.” He was looking at you, and you didn’t even notice you went into a sort of trance, trying to think of the words to say. You shook your head, body filling you up in flames, so before you went into a panic, he continued talking. “Just say the first thing that comes to your head. I am not a person that easily gets offended, sweetheart.”

Those words actually made your nerves settle somewhat, and you took a deep breath in to try to make your heart do the same. You inspected him again and he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a smirk.

“You look like a… The Notebook fan.” You joked, his eyes going wide, a laugh escaping his lips and you couldn’t help but giggle with him, his laugh being contagious, and the tips of your fingers began to feel warmth once again.

“Oh my god, how did you catch me? Am I that obvious?”

End of part 2

A/N: I promise that... things are just gonna heat up from here on out. This was just to prepare you guys for it. (Billy and Steve will make an appearance soon.) I might change the rating on here to Mature, so if you don't have it enabled, please do.

Taglist is open, comment if you want in or send me an ask ;)

Taglist: @katethetank @mynameismothra @emxxblog @steph-speaks @fantasticmacaroni @aysheashea @sweet-villain @sillypurplemurple @eddiemunsonthoughts @emilyslutface @bookshelf-dust @bibieddiesgf @justheretostan

[poeticpascal]

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

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Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt. 

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that. 

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet. 

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before. 

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.” 

“Will you really come with me?” 

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions. 

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs. 

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness. 

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed. 

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies. 

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’. 

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat. 

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!” 

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her. 

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?” 

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts. 

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window. 

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back. 

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.” 

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood. 

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression. 

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade. 

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face. 

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes. 

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?” 

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?” 

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them. 

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?” 

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands. 

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.” 

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.” 

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face. 

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it. 

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?” 

She must see the slight panic in your eyes,  as she quickly scrambles to reassure you. 

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!” 

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least. 

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence. 

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care. 

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you. 

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him. 

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly. 

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?” 

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you. 

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after. 

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. 

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry. 

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before. 

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway. 

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room. 

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further. 

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you. 

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers. 

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face. 

He doesn’t fight his, either. 

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it. 

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion. 

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two. 

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change. 

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.” 

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice. 

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry. 

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart. 

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.” 

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.” 

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard. 

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.” 

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own. 

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it. 

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment. 

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined. 

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

[d6volution]

imagine jax eaves dropping over you, his one and only fuck buddy and ragatha, something about you confessing to RAGATHA ?? spoiler alert she was helping you to practice your confession to jax !! he doesn't know about that part since he left silently fuming, now here he is waiting at your room. long story short jealous sex turns fluffy :)

yes yes a thousand times yes.

---------

tags: oral sex, rough oral sex, jealousy, misunderstandings, confessions, smut, and fluff.

minors dni.

more below the cut.

You and Jax had established a .. friends with benefits type of relationship as of late. The next best thing to keep your brain stimulated was well... sex. And boy did it work, Jax knew how to push your buttons, among other things. But... as time passed, your feelings began to change into something much stronger. Lust was becoming .. love? You felt so silly thinking it ... so how the hell were you supposed to say it?

Unfortunately, it wasn't easy to read Jax, so you couldn't even tell if he felt the same way. There was a fifty percent chance he'd deny you. And that was all too high. You'd need help on this endeavor, and you knew just the doll to ask.

A short while later, you arrived at Ragathas door. Lucky enough to have Kinger become a distract for Jax to sneak away. Once she swung the door open, the words erupted from your mouth. "Woah, woah y/n slow down ! Wanna come in?" You caught your breath and nodded, a little embarrassed.

"So, Jax, huh? He's... not my first choice for you, but I will be 100% supportive!" She said with a smile. "Thank you, Rags.. I just know how to confess to him. What if he..laughs you know?"

"Hm.. yeah, I see. He can be a jerk sometimes! heh.. But, I think if you're serious.. he'll listen. Like really listen. I have an idea! Practice on me."

"W.. What? On you? That'd be, too.." Your voice trailed off.

"Come on, y/n it's just me!" She nudged you and caused a smile to lift at the corner of your lips.

"Fine." You rolled your eyes before straightening up your back and looking the doll in the eyes as if to get into character.

"I've.. wanted to talk to you about this for a while now.." You started your 'confession.'

Unbeknownst to you, Jax finally managed to shake off Kinger and was searching for you. He checked your room first , then a few others before ending up in front of Ragatha's. "I finally get rid of that nutcase and you ditch me. Givin' me a taste of my own medicine, huh?" He spoke outloud just before he rose his fist to knock on Ragatha's door.

Before his knuckles could make contacr with the wood, he heard your voice and leaned in. That permanent smile was growing on his lips. He was evesdropping, of course, because why wouldn't he?

Unfortunately, this was the first time he regretted doing so, he heard you.. confessing!? He quickly pressed his head a bit harder to the wood. Making out the words carefully.

'I love you. I.. wanted to tell you for the longest time but I didn't think you saw me in that way.'

Love? Her? Since when?

Jax felt clenched his fist , absolutely seething. Sure, you were only friends with benefits, but maybe you should have disclosed our feelings for the rag doll before allowing him to rearrange your guts.

He stomped off to your room like that of an upset child and waited , sitting your bed and staring at the door.

Meanwhile, you were giving Ragatha a goodbye hug, squeezing the doll. "Thank you, that helped a lot. I'll .. let you know how it goes." You parted ways and headed to your room, knowing Jax would either be there or eventually show up sometime tonight. You were in a chipper mood, full of confidence as you swung the door open to your dimly lit room.

Immediately, you felt the wave of anger hit you. It was thick in the air. And Jax was sitting there, his eyes on the ground and his smile not there. "Jax..?" Your voice was small, you couldn't muster up anything more than that.

"So, you and Ragatha, huh?" He almost spat. "Y'know I knew you were a slut but, .. you really had me fooled."

"What? Jax? I can explain— it's not what you think." You said and nervously scoffed towards the end of your sentence.

He took this as you laughing at him, "C'mere, doll." His voice was flat, not playful and teasing like it usually was. Your body didn't want to move.

"Now."

You shuffled over, a familiar heat growing in between your legs. You knew this was a misunderstanding and knew you could clear it up if he let you speak.. but he was also really fucking hot right now.

"Jax just listen to me please." You begged.

"On your knees toots, ya know. I was here first, befofe her. If she's gonna have you, its not gonna be til im done with you first." He said, pointed at the ground, and you instinctively fell to your knees. "That alright with you doll?' He was still checking in, making sure he wasn't really doing something you didn't want but you nodded eagerly.

"Like I thought, a slut." He scoffed and gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he pulled his semi hard cock from his pants. "Be a good girl and suck me off, I want you to go back to Ragatha with the taste of me on your lips." His words morphed into a whisper towards the end, and a breathy chuckle escaped his lips. Your stomach was in knots.

He yanked you forward again, and you whimpered, lips brushing against his tip. Your mouth opened and accepted him inside with ease. He moaned, "Mn.. yeaah.. ya think you have the luxury of takin your time? Nah." He slammed your head forward and you scrambled in between his legs , gagging on his cock as he used your throat like a flesh light.

"J.. Just like that, take it .. gonna shake that little brain up til you forget about her.." He groaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Trying hard to keep up with his thrusts, but they were too sporadic. To harsh, yet your cunt throbbed the entire time.

He was quick to spurt ropes of cum into your mouth, pulling back— his cock slipping out of your mouth with a lewd pop. "Nh.. hhaa.. " You tried to catch your breath. "Now, what were you tryna say earlier doll?" He leaned back on his elbows, also trying to catch his breath.

"I was .. practicing my confession to.. ragatha.. it was just practice..f-for you.. Jax.."

His ears seemed to get straighter, pointing directly up upon hearing that. He immediately slid off the bed and kneeled next to you. Gathering your face in his hands and wiping your damn hair from your face, "Me? You.. were plannin' on confessing to me..? If this is some kinda joke y/n—"

You cut him off and planted your lips onto his cheek. Peppering his face in kisses. "It's.. not a joke. I love you, Jax." You were flushed, your body still so turned on yet filled with emotion as well.

"So , you wanted me to face[censor!!] you huh? Ya could've told me to stop ya airhead." He teased and stared at you with a softer grin.

"I didn't want you to, you getting all jealous was actually pretty hot."

"Was it now? C'mon toots, on the bed.. I got some makin' up to do." He said and helped you onto the soft mattress, "Oh and.. I love you too. Took ya long enough."

[diremoone]

written in fine print | r. sukuna

moving to japan to get a breath of fresh air was supposed to be one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. it still may be, but now you’ve got a problem and you don’t know what to do about it. the problem? ryomen sukuna, one of the wealthiest men on the planet, being… enamored with you. you’ve come fairly far with him as “friends” while keeping him at bay, but after you both spend christmas together, you know that things have changed. and come the first day of the new year comes a surprise that forces you to face your bottled-up truth.

[ Ryomen Sukuna Masterlist ] | part three

w — slowburn, age gap, modern au, older man/younger woman, fluff, mild? angst, this time we get reader’s pov bc it’s time ;3, insecure! reader, self-indulgence, A KISS (but just one for now sorry y’all), reader and sukuna lay their feelings on the table (I’m sorry I couldn’t help but finally get to this part), sukuna gets kinda prose-y lmao, slightly unsatisfied with this fic but I hope y’all enjoy anyway, sprinkle of bittersweet at the end

God, have mercy upon my soul.

The dozens of text messages from your cousin have you sitting on the edge of your bed in absolute disbelief. You haven’t even had any coffee yet, or any sort of something in your stomach. It’s sheer willpower keeping you from throwing up the stomach acid in your belly.

But you do need something. You make your way into the kitchen and nab the biscuits you made yesterday from the bag they were in. You shouldn’t, but you eat all four of them anyway. Then you drink something.

You were wondering why everything was going too good, why life had been so… easy as of late. Now you understood why. It was the calm before the storm. It was the universe allowing you to have some semblance of peace before it decided to throw you into the pit of mental and emotional turmoil that you’d been so great at avoiding.

Why in the world did the universe decide to put Ryomen Sukuna into your life?

That’s the question you have been asking yourself over and over again ever since you decided to take him up on the offer of a first date six months ago. Even worse, why did you even think it was a remotely good idea to get involved with someone over ten years older than you? Universe aside, you should’ve had the good judgement to keep Sukuna away. Your good intuition was something you’d always prided yourself on, so why did you decide to even let Sukuna keep coming around?

You go back to your room and get the phone, rereading over the messages. One in particular your eyes stay on:

A benefactor has paid for nana’s care and set her up in a really fancy, upscale care and rehabilitation facility here. They came and got her this morning to transfer her. When I asked about it, someone from registration said it was a gift for you. Who the fuck did you meet in Japan? 5:16 am

And you know, deep within your soul and in your gut that Sukuna was behind this. There’s no one you know that has the money to pull off something like taking your grandmother from where she was to a facility where she’s going to get more constant help, cleaned, proper rehabilitation. No one else but him.

The coffee maker suddenly beeps, beginning to brew a fresh pot of coffee. You almost jump out of your skin from it. You wait until it’s done before digging out one of the banana nut muffins Shoko brought over two nights ago to pre-celebrate the new year.

You truly don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure about everything. Coming to Japan to get a breath of fresh air from the strain your old life was supposed to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made. But now, all it’s become is a whirlwind of even more, even deeper emotional confusion.

Meeting Yuuji was great. Meeting his older brother? The entire source of the emotional confusion.

You lean against the counter and gaze outside. The snow has finally ceased and you’re sure dozers are out clearing the roads. You can’t help but fall into your thoughts.

For awhile, you’ve had… feelings. You’re not quite sure what they are, but you know that they revolve around the older, rich man you’ve befriended. You know that whenever he’s around, you feel more… open, lighter even. You know he makes you feel flustered, to which you’ve learned to seal said fluster inside of a bottle and remain indifferent in his presence. Every time he looks at you or speaks to you, it makes you feel… giddy. Happy, dare you say it.

And it’s something you swallow down and hide every time it bubbles to the surface, fearing that it’ll be nothing more than the same story as your mother: a heart broken by the letdown of not ever being enough, not being what the man actually wanted, and not being genuinely cared for.

The mug of coffee in your hands grows hot, almost scalding against the skin of your palms. It brings you out of your own mind, just in time to hear your phone vibrate with more text messages, all still from your cousin.

Because apparently fate dropped a man in your lap that was more than ready to give you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted: unconditional love on a gold platter; fate decided that you finally deserve a break from strife and grief, that you deserved to stop eating humble pie, because lord knows you’ve done choked and damn near suffocated on that shit; that you deserved to be cherished and loved and made to be someone’s number one in their life.

You know. You fucking know what Sukuna does to you, how he makes you feel inside. You also know how he wants to treat you and the things he wants to do to you. And perhaps with you, if your gut instinct is right and he wants more than a body to warm his bed.

Who are you kidding? You know you’re right.

But it’s unfortunate for you that all you’ve learned to do is bottle up your feelings and act like they don’t exist. Because you’ve never been loved, not romantically anyway. Especially not like this, from someone like this.

How were you supposed to love? What did it really mean to be in a relationship? You’ve never been in one. Not one that ever really was going to go as far as this. Was what you were feeling all temporary? And if you did get into a relationship, what if he didn’t like you when you got comfortable? What if he didn’t like it when you laughed too hard, or any of the habits you have? What if he was just wanting to play savior and ended up leaving you a few months from now?

You toss your head back and groan. Why? Why was this happening to you?

You opt to spend the day inside, rather than go out like you had planned. You have to text Shoko and Utahime, letting them know that you’re not going to be able to participate in their plans of going out and visiting shrines for the new year. The latter is reasonably mad, but Shoko calms her down in the group chat. Although she does make an innuendo about spending the day with someone else “cozied up in bed” rather than them. You send her a side eye emoji in return on her personal thread.

You change out of your pajamas and into some casual clothes — a dark red long sleeve and some black sweatpants, switching to house socks to regular socks — despite not intending to go out for the day. You do end up on the couch for most of the day, switching your attention from the TV and the messages on your phone more than you care to admit. You hardly eat, and don’t realize it until you can feel your stomach against your spine each time.

All day is basically wasted in front of the television, trapped in your own mind. Trapped in the whirlwind that Sukuna has made of your heart and emotions.

You graze through your entire stock of sweets in less than a day, uncaring if it was unhealthy. Dusk settles on the horizon before you know it and you’re anything but tired. In fact, you’re wide awake.

“What do I do…?” you ask into the open air. You feel stupid doing it, but apparently fate has a response for you.

It’s 9:18 at night when several strong knocks rap at your door.

It’s 9:20 when you decide to finally answer the door.

It’s 9:24 when you realize you’ve got a guest at the front door, the very same man who’s been making you question yourself and your whole life ever since coming to this country.

It’s 9:30 when you question to yourself why you let him in. You didn’t think it through, that much you’re sure of. How could you be when he’s thrown your heart all topsy-turvy and mushed it into goo?

Just looking at him from his back floods your mind and makes your heart race, something you hope you’re able to hide by what you hope is a face of indifference and calmness. You can see the tattoos peek out from his turtleneck, and you have to gulp down your nervousness.

The large mug of fruity tea you’ve poured has now chilled, the ice just barely clinking in the glass. You quickly open the cookie jar on the counter and shove two snickerdoodles in your mouth to stress-eat being prepared for what was coming next.

“I…” you begin, and embarrassingly realize you have to swallow the cookies to talk. “I wasn’t expecting you to… show up.”

Sukuna���s silent for a moment, then replies stoically, “Neither was I.”

You gaze at him longer than you intend to. Your attention is mostly on his tattoos, the little bits that are peeking out from the deep crimson of his form-fitting turtleneck. You watch him readjust the watch on his wrist, partially revealing the tattoo inked onto his wrist. To your surprise, Sukuna actually doesn’t like showing off his tats. He used to in his younger years; he’s still proud of them, but he isn’t as much into flaunting them to the world nowadays.

Sukuna’s deep voice cuts through the air. “Have you… gotten my gift?”

You bite your lower lip. You nod even though he can’t see you. “Yeah… If you mean the one involving my grandmother, then yes.”

“I do apologize if I crossed any lines doing such a thing,” he says. “But I don’t regret it.”

“I can imagine you don’t,” you reply, knowing full-well that him regretting anything was a very rare occurrence. “But… Why? Why would you do that? Go through such trouble to help me… and my family? Just… Why?”

His ginormous frame turns to face you to look into your eyes and answer with nothing short of honesty, “Because I want you to be cared for. I’ve seen happiness in your eyes and I want to keep you happy. I want to be the one making you happy.”

“Buying my love will only get you so far,” you say.

“I know. I want to do more for you. I want… to be more for you. Not just… this. Whatever we have going on,” Sukuna admits casually, crossing his burly arms over his chest. But he doesn’t make eye contact. In fact, he keeps his eyes to the floor, away from your gaze. “I know what I want, although I’m not quite sure how to describe everything I feel… when I’m with you and when I think about you. It’s… I know what it is, I’m pretty sure, but at the same time… I don’t.”

“It’s new for you,” you mumble. Surprisingly, he actually hears you and nods. He doesn’t lie. Not with you.

“I’ve been with many women over the years, all for the same reason. I’ve never felt like falling in love or that it would ever matter. I know lust, I know what comes with that. With you, it’s anything but. At first, yes. But your immediate rejection, you continuing to keep your distance from me and your distaste known made me stop and think.”

You raise your brows. “All it took was a girl with some strong boundaries to make you realize you can’t live off being just horny for then rest of your life?”

Sukuna laughs. He actually laughs. A bright smile crosses his handsome face as his shoulders shake with laughter. He tries to cover it up with a hand, but all it does it muffle it into loud chuckles. It takes a good couple minutes before his chuckles finally fall into a simple smile of amusement. That’s when you admit your own truths. If you were going to be hurt, you might as well get it over with.

“In a way,” Sukuna admits. And then he admits even more, opening his heart and putting it on his sleeve. “You’ve reminded me that there is more to life, that I can be genuinely happy beyond office walls and red light districts. You have made me remember what feeling excited, what being on my toes feels like. You make the air lighter… happier, every time I see you. You… I care for you.”

Sukuna’s last words of admission are watered-down and you both know it. Then again, he says he is new to these kinds of feelings. And at this point, you believe him. You wonder if he knows that you’re just like him — exactly the same: that you’re new to the feelings of love, what it means to be in love. It’s confusing, really. You’re not sure where to begin when it comes to saying the things that Sukuna has seemingly had no problem admitting to you. You can’t just say, “Ditto” and make out with him.

Well, you could, but that’s beside the point.

You swallow the frog in your throat and look at him. He isn’t looking at you but at the ground, almost like he’s unsure of himself.

“You’ve made yourself a cozy place inside me, too,” you speak softly. Your hands don’t leave the mug as you set it on the counter. “We’ve only known each other for barely half a year, you know? You make me wonder if what I’m feeling is love, most of the time. I enjoy you; I enjoy your company. I enjoy the thrill you bring into my life. I… enjoy how weightless you make the world feel. I… I like the thought of being… prioritized. I’m just… confused on whether or not these feelings are rooted in love or something else entirely.”

“And I apologize for making you feel that way,” he replies. “That isn’t my intention.”

You’re quick to your words before he can continue. “Don’t apologize. Please. It’s not your fault. I… I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what love is or what it’s supposed to feel like. I’ve never been loved, and I’m not quite sure how to reciprocate it. I’m afraid I’ll fuck up. Say the wrong thing, not do something right.”

Sukuna’s brows furrow. “There is no right or wrong way to be in a relationship — just yourself.”

“I’ve heard that, just as much as I’ve heard otherwise.”

Silence fills your apartment. You tap your nails against the glass mug, little tinks! resounding. You can’t look at Sukuna now. Not after just admitting to having never been in a romantic relationship. Now, you must seem more of your age than you ever have in his eyes.

“Any insecurity you have is not invalid. I would never disrespect them,” Sukuna finally says, sheer conviction making you shiver.

The giant man stands to take his place not even a foot from you. Magnetism draws you to his face and you cannot look away. His hand comes up and brushes his large fingers across your cheek.

And like an open book, he reads you from the front cover to the very last word, reading off your exterior cover and the interior pages you’ve hidden away. “You’ve carved yourself from early maturity, into someone that your loved ones have needed you to be. You’ve never been able to truly be yourself, be free. You’ve always had to be the rock that everyone has needed, when no one has been for you. You desire to be loved, but not at the expense of heartbreak nor sacrificing the person you’ve molded yourself into for the people you love. You desire to be free above all else, not wanting to be loved unless there’s someone who can love you and give you your freedom at the same time.”

You gape, eyes almost as wide as saucers with your eyelids lined with burning tears. You dip your head and sniffle.

“I want that. I want that for you. I want to be the one to give that to you,” Sukuna continues. “The time we spent together not even a week ago, I want more of that. I no longer want to live the way I’ve been living. I want to live with you, do those kinds of things with you. That sounds corny as fuck coming from me of all people, but that’s the truth.”

You can’t help but laugh. His tone of exasperation at himself was just too funny not to.

“And what happens when you give me those things? Will you be done with me? Move on to the next person?” you ask. “Once you’ve played the part of the savior, won’t those feelings end?”

“I’ll never be done with you,” he answers instantaneously, like it was nothing short of law. “You’ve captivated me, all of me. I’ve already tried pulling myself away a multitude of times. But then one little word of anything about you and you’re all I think about for the rest of the day.”

You sniffle again and laugh. “Did you practice this? You sound like a poet.”

“I can be one if you’d like.” You giggle at that. It’s silly, but you feel like Sukuna would oblige you if you said yes. “But I mean it, every word.”

You nod and whisper, “I know you do.” Because it’s the truth. He’ll never not mean anything he says. Brutal honesty is apart of Sukuna.

The emptiness of your apartment is deafening, it’s silence almost palpable to the point where you feel like you might being to suffocate. But large, firm hands cup your cheeks and bring oxygen into your lungs again.

His hands are warm, so warm. The feeling of being touched like this, so intimately, makes all the blood flow to your cheeks to the point where you think you’ll overheat.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, tone quiet, voice deep and baritone that makes shivers roll up your spine. “At least once?”

You can’t help but bite into your lower lip. The suffocating feeling has returned, just for a different reason. But your instinct goes first — action taking the initiative over the brain — and you nod once more, mumbling out a small “yes” that you chastise yourself for being so meek.

Sukuna’s free arm wraps around your waist and gently pulls you to your tippy-toes. You’re running on instinct, one hand resting on his chest, the other circling behind his neck, eyelids slowly closing as he dives in for the kiss you’ve allowed. And when his hand cradles the back of your head, his lips meet yours, and you swear to everything from heaven to hell that you’re about to explode and die in this man’s arms.

Everything feels like it’s on fire… until it doesn’t. That fire slowly simmers down to a gentle flame, one that brings a sense of contentment.

Sukuna tilts his head, moving your lips and deepening the kiss. You allow it, and it feels like the kiss has sunk to a new depth of desire. Dare you even think or say it be devotion. His lips are warm and sweet on yours; his kiss isn’t one of urgency, but perhaps the desperation of longing. It’s not slow and controlling, not greedy. Whatever this kiss is and all the emotions contained within, you know it makes you at peace and content.

Everything feels perfect.

You both part for air, lips slow to disconnect. You can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed being so out of breath, but hearing the slight heaviness of breath coming from the large man makes you feel less awkward.

“Thought you said you hadn’t been in a relationship before?”

Your reply is breathless, “Never have.”

“Then you must be a naturally good kisser.”

That makes you laugh. You press your head to his chest and giggle away, to which you hear what you think is a chuckle from his throat.

It’s 11:20 at night by the time you look at the clock again. It’s too late for Sukuna to go home. That’s the excuse you use anyway. He’s seemingly more than happy to use the excuse right along with you to spend a night with you.

Come morning, however, things shift back to the way they were before: confusing and lonely. The couch was just as empty as the apartment. Under you was not Sukuna’s body, but a stack of pillows from your bedroom.

The note on the counter about being called in for an important meeting doesn’t do his absence justice either, instead sending every one of your walls back up, twice as high and just as thick as they were before.

Your phone dings with new messages. Utahime and Shoko, both of which declare they’re coming over to drag your ass out of your apartment to go shopping like you should’ve yesterday.

You text them back, telling them you’ll meet them at the mall, that you’re going to get ready and this time you aren’t going to miss out.

You don’t know what to do or what to think. You don’t know if one night of vulnerability means anything more than just being open with another human being. All you know is that you need a break, from yourself, your confusion, from life, and especially from Sukuna.

You need the clarity of a shopping trip and good friends for company, because your hopes for what’s coming next are getting far too high and you’re beginning to really fall in love with Sukuna Ryomen.

taglist: (no longer adding)

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @yuujispinkhair | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss

[jsluvtzu]

mind games

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: when her actions don't match up with her feelings, and you're caught in the middle

cw: college!au, angsty, edgy, emo, MEAN!!!!sana, (sana is very very mean), smut, cursing, degradation, mentions of bullying/humiliation, again mean!sana!! men dni

wc: 3.3k

a/n: this is inspired by the recent fanmeeting pics w sana and that damn choker

the walk to your usual 9 am intro to psychology class was colder than usual. the sun was out, but inside, you felt as if it hadn't shined in years. only one thing was clouding your mind. minatozaki fucking sana. mean girl. bully. bitch. you hated her guts from the inside out. everything about her made you physically recoil in disgust. just the mention of her alone was enough to make you clench your fist.

the hatred you had for her may seem unreasonable for someone who doesn't know what you have to deal with on a daily basis. any normal person would call you crazy, or dramatic. but you had every right to feel this way about her.

"hey there pretty thing," you heard her disgustingly familiar voice a couple steps behind you. "who let you walk out the house like that? needa have a talk with them.." you squeezed your lips shut, ignoring sana's words and just kept walking. you could hear her friends, nayeon and chaeyoung, giggling like a pack of hyenas and saying something along the lines of "fuckin' slut" and "she's just asking for it wearing that short ass skirt".

you forcefully tugged the ends of your skirt down and walked through your classroom door, not even bothering to look back at them.

as you took your usual seat towards the front row, you heard them enter the lecture hall and the stench of weed immediately filled your nose, making you furrow your eyebrows and hold your breath. sana throws her stuff down right next to you, plopping down into the seat with her minions right by her side. "hi y/nnn," her arm was propped up on the desk, hand resting under her chin, facing you, batting her eyelashes with the widest smile on her pretty ugly face.

you looked straight ahead, ignoring her and just got your laptop ready for the day's lecture. sana attempted to move into your line of sight, getting uncomfortably close to you in the process. you tried your hardest not to react, but it was especially difficult when she smelled this strong and looked this good. you would never admit the last part though. "you fuckin' deaf or something? i said hi, don't be rude." you side eyed her and went back to logging into your note taking app. sana scoffed annoyedly and backed away to lean in her seat, slightly manspreading. fuck she's so attractive when she sits like that. you quickly shook your head to clear those forbidden thoughts from your mind.

getting through the hour long lecture felt like three days with sana being beside you the whole time. she was wearing a short sleeve shirt and you could see how decorated her arms were with tattoos littered on every empty patch of skin. her silver rings around her slender fingers fit her perfectly and complimented her skin tone so well. her hair was the perfect shade of brown and the right amount of wavy. her f- wait. what are you doing? you're supposed to hate sana. if you really hate her so much, why do you notice the way her nose scrunches when she laughs? you shouldn't feel your heart beat this fast around somebody that you claim to hate. fuck.

finally, the lecture was over and you wasted no time gathering your things to leave. you rushed out the door and checked the time on your phone. “11:17 AM”. you had enough time before your next class to stop by the dining hall for a quick lunch.

as you sat down at a table by yourself, you accidentally dropped one of your items on the floor and bent down to pick it up. that's when you heard whistling and laughter approaching you.

"is this table taken?" sana laughed slightly, asking you rhetorically. nayeon was very obviously checking you out and basically eye fucked you in the middle of the dining hall. chaeyoung took a bite out of her apple and kept looking you up and down. before you could even answer, the three of them sat in the remaining empty seats at the table, leaving you one for yourself.

"so, y/n. i need a favor. the professor is letting me make up a project to bring my grade up, buttt i have no idea what the fuck i'm doing. care to help me out?" sana looked at you intently, placing her hand on your knee, bare skin exposed to her cold touch.

"why the fuck would i help you, sana?" you were completely furious at this point. not only did she ruin the one peaceful moment you had alone, she also had the audacity to come to you for help, when all she's ever done for you is make your life worse?

sana looked at you in disbelief, your aggressive tone shocking her. she cocked her head to the side with a clenched jaw. "because if you don't, i'll post that video of your bare ass for everyone, and i mean everyone to see. you wouldn't want that to happen, would you sweet thing?" her voice was infuriating you just as much as it was entrancing you. sana now had a confident smirk displayed across her face. she knows your weak spot.

you gulped and breathed out shakily, remembering that dumb fucking mistake you made in high school when you sent your ex girlfriend your nudes, thinking you could trust her. she ended up sending it to a big group chat and of course, sana got ahold of it. she's been using that video as blackmail against you ever since, making you obey her every command to keep your dignity.

"fuck you.", was your way of agreeing to another one of sana's orders. "aww, you wish you could." the three of them bursted out laughing and stood up to leave one by one. "meet me in my dorm around 7, yeah? fourth door on the second floor." sana ran her hand through your hair and twirled a couple strands between her fingers. "would hate for such a pretty girl to get publicly humiliated if she doesn't show up." she gave you one last devious smile before grabbing her bag and joining nayeon and chaeyoung.

-

you regretted every step you took as you neared sana’s dorm room door. your feet felt abnormally heavy and you were just dragging your body there out of obligation.

with a deep sigh, you knocked on her door and gripped your textbook tight. when sana opened the door, your heartbeat was beating so loud, you swore you could hear it pounding against your eardrums. her hair was up in a messy bun with loose strands and flyaways hanging out. she had on an oversized, faded and torn “misfits” shirt, with baggy boy shorts on to top it off.

sana chuckled and took in your obviously stressed demeanor, “you knew better than to not come huh?” she stepped back to let you in and you could hear the loud music she had playing.

her room lingered of a vanilla candle mixed with, you guessed it, weed. how she managed to not get caught by an RA was beyond you. her walls were filled with posters from various rock bands and vinyl cds that were aesthetically placed in color order. her bed was messy and clothes were all over the floor. her roommate’s side of the room was surprisingly tidy compared to hers.

as you stood in the middle of the room, awkwardly observing her decor, sana snapped you out of your trance. “you here to help me, or just look stupid?” you cleared your throat and shuffled over to sana’s desk, placing down your textbook and setting your backpack on the floor.

you shrunk under sana’s gaze. cautious of every move you made. you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie nervously as you felt her eyes piercing into you. “why are you acting like that? i don’t bite.” sana was genuinely confused, she doesn’t even realize how she treats you. “look, can we just get this over with?” you avoided eye contact with sana at all costs and stared at the ground, too nervous to look at her directly.

“alright, small talk over i guess.. ‘s what i get for tryna be nice to your loser ass.” sana climbed onto her bed with a sulky attitude, sitting near the edge with her legs crossed. you pulled out the chair from under the desk and sat down, flipping open your textbook to chapter 3.

“the project is about understanding human attraction, so we have to do a little experiment and record the results.” as you said it outloud, you realized what you just got yourself into. working on an attraction project with the girl you hated yourself for being attracted to.

“okay, list 5 things you find most appealing when you first look at your partner.”

“the fuck kinda project is this? i’m not doing this.”

“sana. don’t be dumb right now, you’re already failing the course.” sana was dumbfounded at your bluntness.

“i can’t list anything if there’s nothing i find appealing about you.”

“well then make something up.”

sana scoffed at the ridiculousness of the project and rolled her eyes, cursing herself for even asking for your help.

“i can’t even do that, honestly, i would throw up tryna say something nice about you.”

you were fed up with her at that point and stood up slamming your pen down, “then can you just shut the fuck up? for once? if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say shit at all. i’m always helping you out and all you do is fucking ruin it.” you talked with your hands flailing around everywhere in frustration. you didn’t mean to raise your voice like that, but the pent up anger you had built up finally released.

“ ‘fuck is your problem, y/n? i-“ sana gets down from her bed to stand face to face with you, “you’re the fucking problem, sana. it’s always been you. you’re always finding every way to ruin my life. make me feel bad about myself. why can’t you just leave me alone? what have i ever done to you to deserve being treated like this?” sana was close enough for you to stab your finger into her chest, emphasizing every sentence.

her taller figure towered over you as she looked down at you with a quirked eyebrow and her lips slightly parted. she had nothing to say back to that. your breathing was shallow and you felt relieved for telling her off to her face. something you’ve wanted to do for years.

but the tension in the room was growing and the both of you stared at each other in a loud silence.

you slowly started backing away from sana when you felt like the pressure in the atmosphere was crushing your lungs. sana stopped you with a grab to your wrist, pulling you, no, yanking you, towards her, crashing her lips onto yours hard enough to leave bruises.

that’s when everything in your world stopped. the time froze and things went quiet. you no longer heard the music that was playing in the background, just silence.

you peeled yourself away from sana’s intense grip, appalled at what just happened. “ what.. what are you doing, san-“

before you could even finish your sentence, she grabbed you again, this time squeezing your face with both of her hands. her big hands. you wondered how far they could go inside y-

you braced yourself and placed your hands on the sides of her hips to keep yourself stable. sana was controlling the pace of the kiss now, biting your bottom lip and swiping her tongue along it only to force herself inside of your mouth, tasting you.

sana pulled away with a ‘pop’ sound, your face still held in her hands.

“i’m in love with you.” her face was serious, an expression that was new to you since all you’ve ever seen her be is the total opposite.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, comprehending what she just said and replaying it in your mind over and over.

“i’ve always been in love with you, y/n. i just suck at expressing that. and i get nervous around you so it makes it worse.” sana’s facial expression softened now, the stars in her eyes apparent.

“the only way i know how to show you i like you is by being an absolute bitch to you. i’m sorry. i’m just insecure and i thought you were too good for me. you’re right, okay, you don’t deserve to be treated like this. it’s okay if you d-“

this time you were the one to bruise sana’s lips. you cut her sentence midway, having heard enough to confirm what you suspected all this time. you knew she had something for you. it was always odd how she wanted you to do things for her that would specifically get you to be alone with her. like the time she made you clean out her car and she just watched you, or when she made you write her essay for her in the library and she just sat there. observing you.

you always had a gut feeling, but you pushed it so far down because you didn’t want to fall for her any more than you already did.

“stop talking. i know.” you pushed sana back until you both bumped into her bed, climbing up and straddling her lap.

sana hummed in confusion, trying to break away from the kiss to ask for clarification.

“fuck you mean- you- know?”

you smiled against her lips and only responded by crossing your arms over your torso, grabbing the hem of your hoodie and lifting it over your head, your hair falling over your shoulder.

sana let out a small gasp, looking over your figure. you were only wearing a sports bra underneath and the band of your panties was showing above your sweatpants, just below your belly button.

“you came over here just wearing that? you really are a slut.”

you laughed and shook your head, kissing her again to stop her from saying another overused insult.

“don’t ruin it.”

sana ran her hands along your body, rubbing the soft skin from the small of your back to the nape of your neck, her warm lips making contact with the base of your throat. she was bear hugging you against her at this point, afraid you would run out of her grasp at any moment.

you whimpered when sana sunk her teeth into your neck, you were sure it left a mark. sana cooed and soothed the bite, running her tongue around it and kissing it gently. she moved her kisses up along your jaw, watching the way you writhed under her touch through hooded, lustful eyes.

“fuck- just fuck me already.” you were begging at this point, already riled up the moment you walked through her door.

sana complied and wrapped her arms around your waist, flipping you onto your back so her front was flush against you.

she brought her lips back to yours, savoring it as she hooked her fingers onto the waistband of your pants taking everything off. she slid them down your legs, helping you kick your feet out and threw them somewhere on the floor.

you were exposed against her, the cold air hitting your core making you moan in anticipation. sana moved her lips down your body, tending to every single inch of you. you felt so hot watching her, the lust in her eyes intimidating and seductive.

sana made it close to where you needed her most, breathing out and kissing around your clit. her warm breath against your pussy made you impossibly wetter. sana was such a fucking tease.

she migrated over to your thighs, kissing and marking up the flesh with love bites. you just needed to feel her mouth on you so bad.

“fuck sana- stop teasing.” she could hear the desperation in your tone, letting out a low laugh.

“let me have my fun, y/n. it’s what you wanted right? for me to just touch you like this.” sana flicked her tongue over your clit once, making you whine.

“it’s why you came over here with nothing on under that hoodie right? you just wanted me to fuck you.”

you hated the way she was so entitled. of course you didn’t expect to get fucked by her. you just wore whatever was comfortable. but you definitely had thoughts about it..

you grinded your hips against nothing in hopes for some sort of relief. your mind was getting blurry at this point, the only thing clouding your mind now was cumming on sana’s tongue. ironic.

sana finally gave in and licked the flat of her tongue against your whole core. she took your swollen clit into her mouth, sucking it in pulses and making figure eight patterns with her tongue. you were already a moaning mess five seconds in, shocked at how good she was.

your hands flew to sana’s hair, grabbing the back of her head to push her face deeper into you. she moaned against your pussy when you pulled her hair, ruining her bun.

you felt yourself already getting close just from sana’s mouth. you attempted to squeeze your legs together, but sana pushed them down with her hands, forcing them apart.

“keep your fucking legs open, g’na make you cum all over my tongue.” her voice was husky and she was practically growling her words.

sana moved one of her hands from your thigh to fuck two fingers into you, wrapping her other arm around the top of your abdomen, pushing down on your pelvic.

“sana! fuck- fuck just like that- god.” you were screaming her name and your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans suppressed. you felt the tightness in your stomach building up.

suddenly, sana paused her movements and you looked down at her confused and pissed that she just stopped when you were so, so close.

“i wanna hear you. if you do that shit again, i’ll make you leave with only the clothes you have on.” which was nothing except your sports bra.

you threw your head back in annoyance, nodding and squeezing your eyes shut. “mhm, whatever, just fucking get back to ruining me already.” your whiny voice mixed with your contradicting words ignited a fire in sana.

she began fucking you with her fingers again, relentlessly curling up against the sweet spot on your flesh everytime she thrusted into you. “oh now you want me to fucking ruin you huh? i thought it was wrong? hm? thought you wanted me to be nice? i was just a fucking bully, right? you liked it though. yeah, you wanted the attention. you wanted me to be mean to you. fuckin’ dumb bitch.”

her words hit you differently now. if it was any other situation you would have the urge to punch her in her smug face, but when she has you laid out like this, you can’t help but be turned on by her degrading words.

you couldn’t even form a comeback anymore, too fucked out to say anything except her name.

“fuck, fuck, sana, fuck- please don’t stop- ‘m gonna cum, fuck-“

sana sucked your clit back into her mouth and that threw you over the edge. you finished with a loud, long moan, gripping her hair tight enough to rip out a few strands, bucking your core flush against her face. your juices entirely coated her lips and she drank you up without wasting a single drop.

moaning against your clit, she helped you ride out your orgasm and slowly pumped her fingers until you calmed down enough for her to relax.

sana sat up and licked her lips, cleaning her fingers off with her mouth, humming in satisfaction, enjoying your sweet taste. you watched her with sleepy eyes, feeling an uncomfortable throb already building back up in your core from watching her erotic actions. she lowered back down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her lips.

“so did we finish the experiment?”