#that's fine but Jesus was a carpenter you know

[bloodynereid]

can you do literally anything with tara carpenter x reader (with a happy ending) because jenna ortega my loveee <33 - 🧚🏻

Hiding Place

pairing: tara carpenter x gn! reader

warnings: blood, killing/murder, kissing, the usual scream warnings

description: you and tara are stuck in a closet... again.

a/n: tysm for your request 🧚🏻anon! im sorry it took me so long to write, i hope you enjoy this as much as i liked writing it. ALSO i haven't watched scream (2022) in a while so i apologize if there are any like contextual mistakes.

Your fingers were clenched tightly against Tara’s sweater as you tried to calm your racing breath. The air in the closet was too stuffy and the proximity to Tara was definitely not helping. You couldn’t get your brain to stop thinking about what it would be like to just lean over and kiss her.

“Are you okay?” You deign to whisper into Tara’s ear, leaning as close to her as possible to hopefully mask the sound of your voice from anyone that could be outside.

“Not really, you?”

“If you consider getting stuck in a closet, waiting for death being okay then I’m doing great.” Tara’s mouth quirked up in a smile and she turned to look at you. Her brown eyes met yours as she let out a deep sigh.

“You really don’t need to stay with me. You can just go.”

“Tara… you’re my person, okay? I’m staying with you because I want to. Plus you need someone strong to protect you, hmm?”

“My knight in shining armor…” Tara said, trailing off slightly as she bit her lip. You smiled at her and rubbed her shoulder slightly, trying to make sure that the clothing around you didn’t make too much noise. “Thank you, really. You’re my person too.”

“I sure hope so.” You whispered in response, watching as Tara’s face lit up with a smile, even in her tired state she looked beautiful. “God you remember when we were last stuck in a closet together.”

“Seven minutes in heaven. Jesus, that feels like it was a billion years ago.” Tara said with a sigh and you nodded.

“I know right.”

“I never did know why you didn’t kiss me then.”

“Wha-” Your jaw had dropped and you knew you were staring as Tara quickly looked away from your face. “Tara… I would have kissed you then if I had known you had wanted me to.”

“And you just didn’t think to ask?”

“Tara… you were literally talking to Amber about your crush on that football player. I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“You have always had a chance.”

“So if I wanted to kiss you right now, what would you say?”

“I would say yes. We might die after all, it’s now or never.” You smiled slightly, feeling as the butterflies in your stomach took flight. You leaned closer to Tara, softly brushing your lips against hers and letting your eyes fall closed. She responded in turn, surging forward slightly to press her lips firmer against yours.

The dangers of the outside world fell away so all you could focus on was Tara. The way she felt against you and how long you had been craving this.

Moments later, after what felt like a blissful hour, you broke away from each other. Both of you laughed silently and you could feel your face brightening with a smile. That was before loud screaming broke you both out of the reverie.

Loud footsteps were heard outside of the closet door and you leaned down to pick up the knife you had managed to grab before rushing into the closet with Tara.

“Get behind me. I think we need to move.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s going to be fine, okay?”

“Okay. I trust you.” You nod and then carefully open up one of the doors, stepping out into the hallway. You look over the bannister and see as Sam and Richie struggle for a few moments before Sam succeeds in killing him.

You feel Tara’s hand on your arm as you help her down the stairs, still holding onto the knife tightly. You never know when something or someone will jump out. When you get down the stairs you glance at the gun next to the bannister.

Swapping out your knife for the gun you feel the weight of it in your hand as you turn to Tara and brush a strand of hair away from her face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” You look over to where Sid and Gale walk out and smile at them. Sam rushes over to grab at Tara and you feel as they hug each other from next to you.

But the movie isn’t over yet because moments later Amber rushes out. You pull out the gun and shoot. She collapses in a heap as Tara gasps from next to you.

“No one tries to kill my girlfriend and gets away with it.” You breathe out as you lower the gun. Turning to smile at Tara as she smiles back at you.

[africanamermaid]

Not me as somebody who crochets on the reg getting criticisms/unwanted comments about everything I make:

"You always use the same colors" :/

Me: can't help it I'm a thalassophile and therefore I must always use beige, khaki, turquoise, teal, aqua blues, whites of all shades. Let the coastal creations commence!

"Nice bag. You know, that looks perfect to use only for holidays like Easter"

Me: ...my coastal bag is to be used every time I feel like it. What are you talking about.

"Those oceanic colors don't match with your current outfit so don't use it."

Me: it's not about what looks nice TO YOU but what feels right and fun to use FOR ME.

"Why don't you add (whatever) to your creation. It'd look great if you add (whatever). And, how about next time, you actually use a leather bag bottom instead?"

Me: I don't want to.

"You sure can't take a comment or a slight criticism. Why are you like this?" :/

Me: you sure can't mind your business.

"Why are you doing 2 projects at once. Finish one and start the other I don't get it."

Me: oh you sweet summer child ohohoho...you just don't understand the mind of a crocheter do ya?

"You know, if you make something for somebody it sure won't be coastal themed or whatever. You have to try something different."

Me: who said I'm making anyone ANYTHING? They don't want to pay the correct price for a hand-made creation so that won't be happening. Anyway, ONTO THE COASTAL THEMED SCARF!

[wandagcre]

drive you mad (part 1) | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You’re reunited with your old friend, Samantha Loomis, and she couldn't be any more of a puzzle to you. It doesn't take long to become entangled with her once again – replacing the previously wholesome hangouts; this time you find yourself being in her sheets way more often.

WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, public sex, voyeurism, mirror sex, praise, degradation, fingering, poor communication, mentions of violence, hints of stalking, sam referring to you in spanish endearments (bc why not), not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 10k+

[ PART ONE of TWO | Next ]

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

You liked the universe and its ways of diverting you into paths you never thought to cross paths once again.

Weeks ago, attending another lousy gala was against your whole will. It didn’t seem necessary to you, finding no difference whether your presence was something that would be amiss to the buffoons dressed in suits of your multimillion dollar company. Sure, you completely detested the idea, yet you gave it a chance, as your good colleague turned into a friend – was nagging you for days before the event. She insisted it was an opportunity (a scenario eerily familiar to your college days as if it was a mere frat party) you thought that might as well maximize these so-called connections, right? So, you caved in and went dressed to kill, anyway.

Funnily enough, the said colleague was nowhere to be seen even if she was the sole reason of your presence here tonight. She claims that she had the flu and so you were forced to take in the hors-d’œuvre by yourself.

Here you were, in a fitted beige-colored pantsuit. You didn’t know whether it was your fake it ‘till you make it mantra during work, but you managed to survive (so far). Sipping in your flute of champagne and socializing with people. Your feet were starting to ache and so were your cheeks due to the endless polite smiling you have done for the night. It was draining, so to say.

Just as you were on your way to the bathroom to do some touch up, a recognizable voice made its way to you.

“Please do tell me that you went here without a date, (y/n/n).” a sultry voice uttered directly on your ears and you turned to them too fast, almost getting a whiplash.

You haven’t heard of that for a while. It was a nickname that your closest friends and family called you by.

Lo and behold – it was Samantha Loomis. 

Your eyes fluttered as she left you flabbergasted for multiple reasons. Sam had you putting your hand on your chest, beating madly as if you’ve seen a ghost. 

“Shit. Sam, you scared me, Jesus. Can’t you say hello like a normal person?”

She bodied the suit better than every man in the room. Sam stood with hands in her pocket, an aura that can easily rival anyone else’s confidence in the room, her jet black hair was fixed in a neat ponytail. She was donned in a well put navy blue suit – truly tailored to her perfect figure, emphasizing her good attributes. Damn this woman. Sam was still taller than you and insanely oozing with attractiveness.

Another thing? This woman was the one you were silently pining over during your teenage years. You were also heartbroken when she left town abruptly, leaving no trace behind.

“Finished checking me out?” she says, cocky. “Not one hi for me? you’re still easily frightened, (y/n/n).” a smile ghosts on her face as if Sam knew a secret. “So, how are you? If you’ve got a mystery date for tonight, I’d say they are doing a bad job of keeping you entertained.”

“Hi. Happy now?” You immediately blush at her blatant flood of compliments. “And I’m fine. Really, I’m just here to enjoy the drinks and all, maybe a bit of expanding in the work field too. So, it’s definitely just me – a last minute decision.”

Sam nods, eyes trailing on you. 

“I’m more than happy to hear that. ‘Cause that also means I can do this–?” she reached for your hand and pressed her lips at the back of it, making you flustered more than ever.

You weren’t used to Sam being this direct. She was affectionate, but not to this extent. She was more laid-back as you recall, not as forward and not this flirty. Women had always been your achilles’ heel but to experience this with Sam in the present time – it was a no-brainer that your old feelings were being tested.

“You always do this to the women you encounter?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Just you, (y/n/n).”

The way she kept saying your nickname felt too intimate as it was the one you were previously called back in one of the towns you used to stay in. One that Sam was a part of until she moved again – a common occurrence in her life that she mentioned in passing – albeit you were somewhat expecting it, you didn’t actually think it would hurt that much still.

You were by each other’s side all night. She blossomed into a refined and sophisticated woman, answering questions from other gentlemen and business people in the room with unshakable confidence. It was apparent too, with how they looked at her with respect. Sam even introduced you to others too, by your respective job and all, definitely buttering up your good qualities too that you haven’t even realized that this was benefiting you in your long forgotten plans of exposure. 

“I don’t think I should be with you Sam,” you whisper close to Sam who had her eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Whatever your business is, it’s definitely beyond what I do. Wouldn’t it be sketchy? Or like using you? Because that’s not–”

“Now slow down, honey. It’s no problem with me. Honestly, I was just thrilled to have you by my side tonight and you deserve the good word and all. It’s still me, (y/n/n).” she assured you as she held you softly by your shoulder. 

Exhaling the distress away, your stomach soon fluttered at Sam’s intentions.

“I’m having fun too, just so you know.” You truthfully admit, stopping a stupid smile to spread on your face. Sam gleamed at your words, evidently content as you are.

Soon you were catching up a little with life. Sam asked you how long you have been away from your hometown and what brought you to a new one. You sheepishly say that a new start was long overdue for you and interestingly, Sam returns the same sentiment, albeit there was longing in her tone but it disappeared quickly as it went. Before you could attempt to pry for more, a new set of people were catching up to the two of you, making you sigh.

Sam murmured to you after the man had left. “That man is definitely a no. He’s got a good history of attempting to shag his secretaries. Bound to be kicked from their board soon. I assumed a terrible workload and possibly environment, too.”

“Noted. Crossing that one out immediately.” You snorted at her unfiltered yet helpful tip. “He was rather creepy with how he was staring.. It’s like his first time seeing a pair of boobs during Victorian times.” you quip and laughter filled your chest.

“Did he now?” Sam squinted her eyes. “Well… you’re absolutely a sight for sore eyes, alright.” You see her eyes now surely over the valley of your chest. 

Was she really checking you out? 

Another new information for you is that Sam had apparently grown playful. You were astounded to receive her gaze, you elbowed her side. “I’m just saying! But him? oh he’s not worth your time, is all.” Sam reasoned, petulant.

“And you’re no better.”

“Excuse me, I am. I was simply admiring you.” she quipped at you very quickly and sipped her drink.

“If you say so. And hey, what about her?” you subtly point at the tall, middle-aged woman you met earlier. 

“Uh-uh, also a pass. Better CEO than him and the others, for sure, but you could do better. A bit of the same as the old man, just a woman version of him on a somewhat low profile.”

You look with much interest now. For two different reasons – one, because you didn’t expect that and two, how exactly of a big shot was Sam to know all of this insider information?

“Doesn’t sound bad to me.”

Not for me. Sam murmured as she sipped on her drink. You look at her quizzically, obviously not catching her words. 

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said, what about that one…” Sam subtly points out another person across from you. 

She listed out the company’s stand point, what they were looking for, and you momentarily tuned out – savoring her voice that melted in your ear.

“How do you know all of this?” You blurt out.

Sam was sporting a distant tight-lipped smile. “I own a few businesses from here and there. Can’t spill them all to you in one night. I have to remain mysterious so I can be interesting for you, don’t I, honey?” she tilted her head.

For the hundredth time that night, your heart pounded and cheeks were crimson once again, all by Samantha Loomis.

:: 

This morning as you flipped through the channels, it reported the death of a wealthy CEO, stabbed in most inhumane ways and his eyes were reportedly gouged out. 

Momentarily, you felt sick to your stomach until you realized that it was the same man who was a creep from the gala. You vividly recall Sam's words; with this man's business fluctuating badly and his poor work ethics, your thoughts gradually eased and snapped yourself out of it. He did see that one coming, you suppose.

You couldn’t be any more grateful that you’re far from that circle.

::

While you were terrified, it didn't stop you from going outside by yourself. Normally, this routine of yours is done during day time. However, resting got the best of your time this weekend and so with a resigned sigh, you came prepared with a pepper spray that you blatantly held as your free hand pushed the cart. Your stock of groceries wouldn't be done by itself, after all. Were you paranoid? (The answer is yes, rightfully so).

The mundane chore was going well. 

Until you were on one aisle, on your tip-toes, barely reaching the chips that were now placed a tier higher than normal. It’s like a trick and you were being played, as coincidentally, it was the last one on the rack. You irrationally listed this as a bad sign - change wasn't to be welcomed for you in times of horror.

The lighting grew dark and it shadowed you. it triggered your fight or flight mode as this person towered you from behind, the scent strongly engulfed your senses and so did their body frame, making you gasp as their front was almost pressed against you. 

They picked up the item for you and as you turned around, it was Sam.

She hasn’t preoccupied your mind for a while and you take in her presence as a fresh breath of air.

"Hey, pretty girl, I don't want you getting hurt." She joked and dropped the chips herself on your cart. 

"Fancy seeing you here," you retort with equal amusement to the woman in front of you. You thought it was unfair that she always stunned you as you saw her casual get up. 

Sam wore a bomber jacket and a navy baseball cap. She handheld her own cart and interestingly filled it with junk food, just like yours, and a couple of cleaning disinfectants.

"Do you usually shop this late?” Sam quips gently, hearing the concern in her tone.

You sheepishly smiled, "I know. But in my defense, work kept me late unfortunately. Or maybe it was me over napping..." admitting it out loud felt silly. "I don't have much of a choice. I ran out of stash in my pantry and while it's not really a good time.. wait, I don’t mean that with you, but what I meant is that, given the circumstances happening right now - it’s horrifying to be out and about."

Sam raised an eyebrow at your rambling. She found it endearing that you had to clarify each time how you liked her company. 

"And what circumstances are we talking about?"

"You know, the whole killing thing," you hushed down low and kept walking with Sam who hummed right behind you. "Haven’t you heard it yet? It honestly had me worried. I don't want to be put in that position."

You both come across the isle of candies, you picked up a couple of them. Embarrassment soon crept in the more you confided your fear out in the open and how you revealed your unhealthy fix of snacks in the presence of Sam, the woman you're swooning about.

"I see. That explains your trusty pepper spray," Sam nodded along in understanding. "Say, do you mind if I accompany you? Sticking together could be better, after all." she lightly nudged your side with her arm and swiftly took over to push your cart by her own.

An easy smile crossed your features. You can't say no to spending more time with her.

"I'd like that very much."

::

The simple scare and business exchange was the start of your reconnection with Sam. 

It seemed that Sam was sticking for good - or near you. At least, that’s what you thought so. Her place couldn’t be that far as you happened to come across her for a few times already. 

A few days later she surprised you, sent a rather straightforward message and opened up how she misses you (you almost fainted on that message). Come the weekend, Sam called you to say that she’s sending a driver to pick you up around 6 PM. After you gave her your address, Sam notes to dress in nothing strict and formal as the gala, and you quote Sam who said in her own words: just bring your pretty self. 

It was rather bossy and forward, if you were being honest. Though your senses dulled it out of bias, being Sam’s friend in the past she hasn’t done anything to put you in harm.

Another thing that brought you to a conundrum was how it sounded like a date but you didn’t want to be that hopeful – even with her endless flirting. You simply note it as another Sam evolution; a part of her confident self. The driver who picked you up was dressed in casual business attire, no older than late 20s, gave you a polite smile. He introduced himself as Martin and referred to Sam as Ms. Loomis and as you were in a phone call with her, she immediately confirmed to you that it was indeed your ride.

Relief washed over you, feeling secured enough with the whole get up. Especially with the case of brutal murder as of recently.

Arriving at the place, the door was opened for you and he mentions that he’ll be parked at the same place. The restaurant itself was one of the places you haven’t had a chance to visit yet, mostly because you didn’t feel zealous to spend a lot of money on a glorified casual meal. The ambience striked your interest immediately, the interior was cozy, and welcoming – especially for whatever they served, the aroma made your stomach rumble. 

Looking around, it was opposed to what you expected – there was no single sight of business suits hovering in the place. They were stuffy people in casual attire, maybe.

“You made it.” Sam stood up from her seat and your eyes fluttered at her beauty once again. Her floral scent was hypnotizing and covered your senses as she went for a hug. “How was your ride?”

“It was nice. I like your car,” you timidly say as Sam pulled a chair for you. 

“And I like your outfit. You look so beautiful, (y/n/n.)” Sam’s words were earnest and crimson quickly spread on your cheeks and rose up to your ears.

The stark contrast of her in formal attire with slick ponytail was apparent, yet equally so attractive. Sam stood in plain tight polo, baggy pants and some sneakers with her hair loose. She gave you a warm smile and her eyes also did a once over to your figure; you were dressed simply in a knitted zip top that hugged your torso, some trousers, and decent platform shoes. 

“Says you. You’re absolutely charming, it’s unfair.”

“Don’t start that with me, honey. We’ll be here all night arguing about that.”

Sam grinned at how you affectionately rolled your eyes at her quip. As you settled in and looked at the menu, you noticed the familiarity. It was on par with your tastebuds. She definitely remembered your type of crowd. You hid a smile with this information.

However, your joy was temporarily cut off as you noticed the server giving Sam the heart eyes as she took note of the order, although the latter paid no mind, swiftly reiterating your orders with her polite smile, it didn’t stop you from getting irrationally bothered on the inside.

You should have seen this coming. Surely, other people were bound to find Sam attractive as much as you do.

“Have you ever been here?” Sam eagerly questioned, her doe-eyes all on you. “I was nervous to pick a decent place, to be honest. I didn’t want it to be stuffy and stiff, but not too casual – only because I wasn’t so sure with your taste now, so I relied on my (y/n) senses.”

You were quick to nod off, “No. I was interested but I never had the chance.” a slow appreciative smile spread on your lips. “Your senses were right - don’t worry, Sam. They definitely serve the type of food I like. I hope you didn’t compromise that much for me." While you liked the thoughtfulness, you wanted Sam to have a good time as well.

“Well, that’s great! It means you can enjoy it with me that way. Don’t worry, based on their menu it seems appetizing for me, too.” her eyes lit up assuring you, and it was an adorable sight. She showed you another side of her again, reminiscent of how you remember her relaxed state and wasn’t as constricted from the gala held days earlier. “I have to ask.. is this setup okay with you? In case you’re… seeing someone.”

You’re surprised at her interest at your love life. Her attention remained fixated on you and it made you blink couple of times.

“Definitely not seeing any woman right now. Nothing recently.” you hint your preference, in case Sam hasn’t picked up on it yet even before. You haven’t come out back then. 

Sam smiled at your response. “That’s a relief. Means I won’t be breaking any faces any time soon.” your eyes widen at her words. “I’m kidding, (y/n/n). Or not.”

You nod along at Sam’s words with an unsure smile, not knowing what she exactly meant by that. You shrug it off as her odd humor. 

“What about you, any lucky person yet?” you asked, it was your chance to know more about her too.

A playful smirk was written on Sam’s features. 

“Funny thing is that it's the same case for me, I haven't gotten around it for uh, for some reason.” she ended sheepishly and shuffled a bit on her seat. “I could be eyeing on someone, who knows. But I have to be mysterious to you.” Sam’s voice dropped an octave lower. If you didn’t know any better, your delusions would think that she’s implying suggestively to you.

While her vague answer didn’t provide you what her type was, it was a relief for you to know that Sam is not off the market yet.

Both of your smiles barely wore off since then. Soon you were finally eating your go-to food and Sam with her chosen pasta. You debate whether you should finally ask Sam of her sudden disappearance, but you really didn’t want to spoil the mood either.

“Are you okay? Something wrong with your meal?” Sam leaned in to you and you quickly motioned no. 

“No, no. It’s just– I want to know, why did you have to leave?” you can’t help it but the hurt dripped on your tone. “It was so sudden and I haven’t heard from you since then… and now, you’re here again.”

You felt silly because it was a long time ago. Seeing Sam in flesh again gave you a whiplash, you valued her presence as she was your confidant during your hard times. If it weren’t for the gala, maybe you’d be left wondering until now, you’ll never know.

Warmth covered your hands, surprised that Sam has taken them to intertwine with hers.

“I can’t say the full details yet. But.. I’m here to stay. Believe me, honey. What happened then - it has something to do with my father. You knew how unstable things were at home, right? And I was expected to… step up into things at a faster pace than I can ever imagine,”

You only had a slight idea – if Sam before wasn’t very talkative and open – it was a thing that definitely remained until now. Sometimes their house was rowdy, full of men that wore notable sparkly ostentatious accessories. You only knew that his father’s job was demanding and that he was uptight, didn't want Sam to be out late, she had to sneak to parties, and was harsh with his words - even in front of you. It reflected the fear that glinted in Sam’s eyes when you were caught at their house, at the same beat, Sam also seemed to respect him. It was odd and the similarity of her tone was not lost on you but you didn’t push further.

You also wondered how Sam's sister, Tara, is doing and most likely all grown up now. 

“Is it enough for you right now?” Sam meekly asked you, hopeful glint in her eyes.

You mimic her playful smirk from earlier.

“Only if we get mint ice cream right after this and I’m paying.”

Sam let out a relieved sigh, leaning back to her seat and an easy going grin gracing her features once again. 

“Alright, whatever your heart desires, (y/n/n).”

::

After a wholesome reunion (or date?) the two of you were on a weird loop. At least for you. She was bearing gifts that weren’t so little at all – packages were being sent to your house, always coming with a handwritten note that said ‘reminded me of you’ with a scribbled wink, sometimes a heart, and seeing Sam became a part of your routine. It was all you looked forward to every week – seeing Sam – that your friends even asked whether you were dating someone as you appeared more occupied than ever.  

At this point, you have visited restaurants and stores you could only imagine. Sam mentioned that having to try delicacies with you was a terrific experience, she liked your honesty and fun quips of critique. Although it shifted to something you’d say – a bit odd. While she was warm and welcoming, she never stopped by at your house.

Although you weren’t going to lie, it made you curious. Disappointed, too. Was she embarrassed enough to avoid being seen dropping by in the eyes of the public, in an intimate way? Granted, there wasn’t anything intimate going on. 

Other than that, it dawned to you how tactile Sam was with conversations. It was always knowing something new and familiar, never delving into something deeper.

For her sweet quips, you remain confused whether it was flirty and intentional, after all, you didn’t think that Sam was to take interest in you romantically speaking. So, it was a challenge for yourself to not get any less flustered. Especially when you’re crushing over her.

::

"Hey, pretty girl. Wanna eat out tonight?" Sam smoothly asks you from the other line and you snorted at her forwardness.

You peer over your window at the kitchen before shutting the blinds. You didn’t know whether it was still the lingering paranoia you felt over the gruesome murders and the irrational fear that you could be next. 

What if they were watching you?

"Dunno Sam," you scratch your nape, debating your answer as you remembered the events happening outside. "Is it safe? A brutal death happened recently. And you know, honestly, Sam – it rattled me a little more than I thought it did."

"Is this about the CEO? Honey, I've told you that he was already in deep shit. his decisions have probably caused him to dig himself into a bigger mess unimaginable."

The lack of care in Sam’s tone surprised you a little. But your mind weighed in the facts; these were billionaires who fucked up, didn’t do anything good for the others, and put themselves in the wrong crowd. You give Sam credit for that similar thought as you assume.

"Okay, but still…"

You hear Sam cooing in sympathy. "If it helps, I have my men around. We’ll be safe. You’ll be safe with me, don't worry." she promises with conviction enough for you to believe her.

You hummed as you rethink your answer. You wanted to hang out with the woman you've been crushing over (again) and having an idea of how her bodyguard's in question are built, you feel yourself leaning more to saying yes. 

"I guess that helps yeah- you just had to be so damn convincing, didn't you?" Even if this was a call, you can already see the stupid grin that Sam has now. "Alright, I'm sold with that. I'll see you later, Loomis." you playfully sing-songed to which Sam giggled as you dropped the call.

::

“Let’s try something new today.” Sam said in her low voice and to your surprise she held the car door open for you in the passenger seat and you weren’t in the backseat this time.

“Don’t we always?” you refer to your eating escapades with her. 

To your shock, Sam went to the driver’s seat. 

She was the one driving for today?

“Nuh-uh. We’re going to my house.”

“What?”

You turn your head fast to face Sam with your expectant eyes; filled with surprise and excitement. After all, your brain was racking itself with much curiosity of what is going on with your friend slash crush’s personal life. When Sam caught the glee in your expression, her own eyes crinkled at the corners and muttered something about how adorable you are.

As you parked outside, you noticed familiar vehicles that tailed the one you and Sam were in. You only saw a few of them before, the men only looked at you out of politeness – as if their eyes weren’t around to linger – and they were more pliant with Sam. It instilled an idea that your friend was this much of a respected person.

“Don’t worry, they’re with us.” Sam informs you and you were shy of how evident you were glancing at the side and at the back. 

You took tentative steps inside her home, surprisingly it was bursting with colors. It was apparent that Sam liked the idea of experimenting when it comes to style, as her interior and decorations felt straight out of magazine.

In her living space, she offered for you to sit first. She looked messy this time – not as neat after work, her hair down again instead of the usual ponytail, which seemed unnatural for someone so polished for her professional state.

“This was all of a sudden, sorry. I can’t… I’m a shit host for tonight. I’m honestly not feeling well today. I can get someone to fetch our food, whatever you like, it’s on me mi quierida.”

“You could’ve postponed this thing that we have. I mean, I don’t mind.” Okay maybe that was a complete lie – but you didn’t want Sam to feel forced.

Sam tilted her head. “And risk depriving myself of not seeing you? I do mind that. More than you can imagine. I guess you could say that I selfishly wanted you all by myself tonight, regardless.”

You feel somersaults in your stomach – making you squirm at your seat. Before you can process her words further, your attention panned to Sam’s hands and grew alarmed as you saw a faint view of her knuckles were red, you figure it'll be bruising the next day. She tried to hide it a lot as soon as decent lighting was present. Sam discarded her silver watch and then removed the champagne from the bucket near her to submerged her closed fist as it contained ice. It clinked against the metal, and as seeing her face, her chestnut eyes kept fleeting over you – observing.

"What exactly were you doing anyway?" Amusement was in your tone, although concern crept in quickly. You didn't want Sam to be hurt in some fight club. Or any way, for that matter.

Sam beckons you, "Come here." she softly uttered. as you did, her free hand rested on your lower back. "I ran into a small inconvenience. I guess you can say that I handled it well." 

You snorted at her poor joke. A boyish smile spread on her pretty face.

"If you're joking with that shitty pun… I'll take your word for it, Loomis." You slid an arm around her neck, patting her shoulder affectionately. 

It was truly a gesture meant to be playful but it appeared that it became a cause to shift things between you two. The proximity made you hyper aware with your heartbeat pounding loudly by the minute. You can’t even look Sam in the eye, remaining frozen.

"Uh-huh. You should trust me with it, mi quierida. You know I always mean well.”

Sam smirked, as though she knew something you didn't. She was difficult to decipher at most times but you shrug it off, noting it as a part of her charm. It was her thing thenand apparently, until now. 

Case in point: her sneakily trailing her hand lower as they were, now resting on the slope of your ass. She grabbed you by its underside, feeling her fingers digging into the flesh. Knees growing weak at the contact, you barely stifle a gasp. It was surprising yet very welcomed and better than you imagined.

She rubbed her calloused hand back and forth on your back soothingly. "Stay... stay the night with me.'' Sam whispered as she nosed the crook of your neck, her breath against your skin spreading goosebumps.

It was an all-too familiar scene, however, Sam was bolder.

“Let me give you your present for tonight,” Sam husked out, her face moved to bite on your earlobe – her hands needy all over your body. “or… just say the word and I’ll stop,”

You were pulled in, moaning as you finally cracked through the tension. Both of you no longer teetering in friendly boundaries. It was hard not to – not when it was Sam you adored for a great chunk of your life and how her siren eyes were pierced onto yours. As Sam was nervous, you were simply stunned and returned the same feeling as you did.

"Okay,” you responded shakily yet you moved with an ounce of bravery, finally affirming your answer by grabbing Sam by the nape and lips crashing with much need, electrifying you.

Sam devoured you in her satin sheets until you were swollen, frazzled, and dripping. 

::

The next day, you discover that another case of murder has happened in your town. This was an odd occurrence, as while death is inevitable, it was surprising to hear more of them happening in a short period. More so, it was unusual to hear of a brutal case in your normally nonchaotic town.

Fear began to creep into you as your colleague mentioned it was another CEO yet, this time it was the woman whom you've also met from the gala – being there, meeting these people and hearing them as nothing but reported deaths now felt like a bad omen. It created quite the buzz in your workplace, after all it was one of your company's competitors, too.

Shiver ran down your spine; you couldn't be next, right? 

If you were to follow the pattern, it only suggests isolated killings of wealthy figures and you couldn't be any farther from that. You were another normal person who’s only trying to get by.

Then you remember Sam and the extra security she provides to you. All this time she had kept you safe and away from harm. You found solace over the thought, so you exhale and tried your best to let go of your worries.

::

In all honesty you were only expecting to pull connections that can land you higher positions that promised bits of grandiose escapades in between – all tied to your work during that gala – and you’re surprised that you landed in Sam instead, though in a much more compromising position that ignited your whole body for days. Sometimes you can’t even move due to soreness. More often, you burned and yearned for Sam’s touch. 

It’s like the woman imprinted on you.

Sam finally brought you to her actual place which was a good breaking point. As soon as you saw past the soaring entrance and the modern architecture that greeted your wide eyes. So far, it appeared that she was indeed the only one based on your frequent stays – only men in between casual and formal attires, some being her bodyguards and maids as well were around the area. 

You were surrounded by a lavish wardrobe that you can only dream of. You were amused that you share similar skin-care products as her when you first used her personal bathroom. It was a good coincidence, it made your stay-ins much more comfortable and efficient.

The spacious place felt intimidating to your bones as you walked around halls and doors after one another, although you’ve handled much more terrifying things that were specifically this she-devil.

It was a surprise to you how she can swoon you with her gentleness and barely any of that remains in the bedroom activities. She was absolutely rough and domineering.

She continues to take you to different places you’ve never been to before. Though, now they were private and more high-end properties. Today, Sam took you today to where you wouldn't normally get your sexy undergarments. 

It was sultry and inviting to the ladies. The assisting ladies were polite, kept a minimal distance, and didn’t blatantly stare unless their attention was called to. You and Sam came by fairly early, hence the lack of people, you assume. You were fascinated with the quality of the garters and fabrics that felt different on your fingertips. 

One of her men, Martin, stood by inside the store. Sam assured you that everything was fine, it’s only a precaution and more of a just-in-case business thing. She kissed you before you could ask anything else, effectively distracting you.

Finally having both of your picks, you were welcomed by another part of the area where the sconce's recessed light only added to the thrill that was covering the lavender hall of the boutique. It certainly made the atmosphere downright sinful and erotic. For a minute, you thought that maybe you can handle being Sam’s dirty secret. You felt so dizzy. Feverish. Needy.

Sam placed a final kiss to the side of your neck before she was gently ushering you to go, seeing the familiar look of hunger in her eyes as if she was controlling herself - it made you shiver with the same desire - then you went in to fit.

You nervously stood in front of the mirror, doing final touches on the laces. Sam insisted that she prefers seeing you fit the lingeries instead of her dropping them on your face out of nowhere – something you appreciated.

Slipping yourself into the intricate laces of the lingerie, you were unable to stop nitpicking on the blemishes and stretch marks that were on your skin and how apparent they were beyond this flimsy material that attempted to cover your intimate parts.

“Don’t forget to show them to me, alright?” Sam hollered from the other end.

You try to suck it up, being snapped out of your insecurities. “Wanna come in here?”

“No, come out here.”

In disbelief, you shook your head no even if Sam couldn’t see it. What did she mean by that?

“Are you crazy? There’s… there could be people out. Just come here,” you whisper-yell to Sam.

“There’s no one. We arrived early and just – trust me. It’s only me out here, seated, completely alone.”

You hesitantly move the curtain in the fitting room and step out. Indeed it was silent and no one was there just as Sam reassured. It helped that the room was actually just for the two of you. As you stood there, you felt so naked and raunchy, being were dressed in nothing but lingerie.

“What’s the verdict for this?”

Sam was manspreading on the emerald upholstered chair and you stood in between her legs, inquisitive. 

“Oh, baby.”

“How is it…?” you fiddle with the laces, not meeting her eyes.

Sam looks at you with her mouth agape. She didn't say much but surprise was written on her face. You cannot help but overthink still, as your skin wasn’t flawless nor ridiculously skinny like any other models that Sam surely had been entwined with at one point… or even now. 

“Hey, are you feeling okay, (y/n/n)?” Sam questions and taps on her thigh. “You aren’t comfortable with this one, are you?” she worriedly asks, her hands on your side, rubbing to soothe you. “Because you look so stunning to me, god,”

You refuse to meet Sam’s eyes, “I- I don’t think I look flattering at these. I’m no model, Sam. Surely you had better.” the distaste on your tone didn’t go unnoticed by the woman who frowned at your words.

Your insecurities began to gnaw in rapidly; what if Sam had other women on days you weren’t available? It made you sick to your stomach.

“What makes you think that? Oh, baby this is the best I’ve ever had.” Sam tugs you by your forearm and while you are teary eyed, she places a gentle kiss at the back of your hand. “I’m sorry if you felt forced to do this. You can take it off now if you want. If I’m being honest, I only thought of wanting to see you strip for me."

The explanation had put your mind at ease. It definitely gave you a sense of comfort that to some extent, you do matter to Sam.

“We could have thought of something else. I.. I’m just not feeling this, Sam, it doesn’t fit me. I’m sorry.”

Sam's heart sank at your words. You weren’t to blame at all. Soon, you felt her fingertips subtly tugging down your skimpy underwear to which you put your hand above hers, halting her movements.

"What – Sam, someone might see us," nervousness washes over your expression, you don't want to get caught in such a vulnerable state.

Sam only looked at you with her dilated eyes. "As if I'd let them see this. Trust me, we just have to be quick, princesa, because I can’t wait much longer.." her fingers smoothly went to hook her fingers under the garter of your underwear and moved to grab the base of the fabric. “Let me apologize to you in this way.” She gave it a pulling tug, your moan vibrating in the small space as it deliciously cupped your pussy lips. “You look so beautiful right now, (y/n/n).”

You barely stifle a moan from erupting out of your mouth and feel yourself drip with wetness.

“My pretty girl is getting turned on with a fucking wedgie? You’re just as turned on as I am, aren’t you?” Sam moistens her lips, “So pretty and all for me. You can’t be loud in here baby, I need you to stay quiet. Don’t want others to hear you moan.”

“Thought- there was no others,” you whimper at Sam who only smirked.

“But the assistants are outside. Can’t have them knowing you’re such a whore for me, hm? Now turn your back to me and look at your pretty reflection.”

Nodding your head profusely, you swallow the lump in your throat. It made Sam chuckle in delight, her eyes gleaming. She pulls up the fabric once again, you’re sure that a wet patch is now evidently staining it. She pokes it with the pad of her two fingers and brushes them back and forth, the friction bringing you pleasure.

She interrupts your reverie by halting her motions, unclasping the bra off you and the intricate straps – one your eyes lingered to – only you didn’t realize that Sam saw the dismay on your face, as though it didn’t fit you. It would be an understatement for Sam to say that she abhors seeing you treat yourself this way.

You observe her hooded eyes now full of desire as she looks up to you – it’s undeniable with how it matches her actions, feeling Sam’s thumb pressed then on your back muscle, letting go to run over her hands all over your torso. It’s soothing although given your position, you feel the want and her touch intoxicating you.

“Sam, please.” you begged, ass pushed to her direction with your posture bent over. 

She merely laughs and smacks her hand hard on your ass. The sound echoes in the dressing room. You hissed at how it stings.

Sam had always found your curious look so endearing. You always looked so ready for her to take, attentive, always so curious and beautiful.

She moves her hands agonizingly slow and sensual to your hip bones – brushing her thumb against them – to the skin right under the curve of your ass. You shriek out loud with eyes rolling back to your head, temporarily forgetting that you’re in a public place as Sam notches it up by squeezing you tenderly. 

Repeatedly.

“Look at the mirror, (y/n)” Sam sternly orders. You shudder with eyes wide, still not moving. “My little bunny is not dumb, aren’t you, my sweet thing? Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You gulped audibly and a string of moans were pulled out of you as Sam kneaded your supple breasts pleasingly. Being bare while Sam was fully clothed made you uneasy. Looking at the mirror didn’t feel right - seeing yourself become this needy and you meet Sam’s eyes in the reflection. What was her point in doing this? You don’t know either how it intimidates you yet a tinge of excitement is unmistakably laced underneath your impression. While you weren’t new to her roughness, this was particularly still felt exhilarating to you. 

Lost in a haze of lust, the ambience changed within the store – it felt as though you were trapped in a heating chamber. It’s charged and so electrifying to be in a compromising position with Sam – while it was a secluded and high-end one that provided privacy, you hoped that no one barged in soon.

Sam left a kiss on your lower back and feeling her hot breath brush on your skin made you shiver run down your spine, snapping you out of your worries. 

“I’m going to need you to sit between my legs, (y/n/n). And I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers until you understand in your pretty head that you’re beautiful, hm?” Sam’s words echoed titillatingly on your whole body, your breath hitched and bothered.

Soon as you sat hesitantly onto the couch between her legs, Sam gripped it and opened it wide for you as she saw you squirming and shakily closing your legs. You saw yourself in the reflection - how bare you were. And all you can think about is Sam and how you’re about to soil the velvety seat. She tuts at your shyness and manoeuvres her hand, wrist curling as she glides one finger over your soaked slit, gasping at how you were already so wet – teasing you.

You sharply inhaled, chasing more of Sam’s touch. “Told you that I’m gonna fuck you in front of this mirror, baby. So don’t hide yourself. I’d like to keep you like this, so gorgeous and ready for me.”

Sam did it for you – adjusted her own thighs to accommodate your legs, placed them on top of hers and spread them for you to see how exactly you were dripping. The wetness trickled down the expanse of your inner thighs out of your folds. Sam had a wolfish grin, what you’d describe as predatory and hungry for you. Lolling your head back to Sam’s shoulder, you hear her grunt as she glides her fingers now directly to your folds, eventually entering inside of you.

The sloppy sounds of your wetness echoed in the room. It didn’t help that you felt Sam pressed the base of her palm against your pelvis as her curled fingers rammed madly inside of you. You were pouring out your arousal.

“Oh Sam, oh fuck– fuck, fuck!” heat rose on your belly, coming in waves. Sam responded by pressing kisses on your now sweaty face.

“Mm yeah? More?”

“Yes, yes… Please, Sam!”

You were lost in the haze of lust, driving you dizzy, as your pussy kept pounding with Sam’s rapid thrusts. A slew of guttural moans were out of your mouth – not even minding how loud you are now. You feel how your own core clenched and sucked the entirety of Sam’s fingers, taking a peek in the mirror proved it enough – it was a terrible decision for you.

“Open your eyes, come on now, my good girl. Don’t want you to miss out on how beautiful my sight is.”

Your teeth caught your bottom lip, you comply for Sam’s sake. She called you a good girl, after all. You kept bouncing on her slender and now thoroughly soaked fingers, your slick all over her pants and you saw how it trickled down to damp and darkened the very upholstered chair. Seeing yourself blushing and so fucking used, your pussy squeezed once again over Sam’s fingers and to both of your delight, her thumb pried and did circular motions to your clit.

The pleasure shot you straight in waves over your body and vibrated so deliciously. 

You meet Sam’s thrusts and as you bounced, you also saw how intently focused she was on your reflection.

“God, look at these tits,” Sam roughly squeezed the flesh, making them aggressively jiggle. “I fucking love having you like this baby. Aren’t you my good girl?” she hotly whispered to your reddened ear, giving your earlobe a bite.

Her other hand that supported you by the waist, crawled up to grab the very breasts that she verbally appreciated. 

“Come on, say it.” Sam gave it another squeeze – plenty that made you mewl – and tugged your perk nipple harshly. “and look at me as you do.”

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m.. I’m your good girl!”

“Mine only,” Sam growled and you felt her teeth sinking in the skin of your neck, biting and nipping. “Oh how I wanted you for so long, like this for me…”

You moan as you turn your head, not minding the awkward angle, not in this needy state of yours you did mind. Neither did Sam, who was visibly appeased with her pearly grin as you do – even more when you shifted your gaze to the mirror and this time, you actually stared at it. 

“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

Your hand slithered to Sam’s nape, who was almost as breathless as you. You tried to keep a firm grip on her as you feel more lost in the pleasure.

“Yes, Oh… oh! Sam!”

You nod instantaneously making the woman smile even wider. Soon, Sam’s fingers were sloppy wet and rapidly applying pleasure on her pad and focused on your very clit. You couldn’t do anything but elicit more expressive moans and squelching noises that bounced through the room as Sam fucked you dumb. The coil in your stomach finally untangled, leaving you breathless.

You meekly look at your figure in the reflection once again. Your cum trickled down continuously, leaking out of your pulsating hole. Sam panted lowly in your ear and inserted her hand again, making you grab her inner wrist as you felt the oversensitivity. She hushed you to calm down and she was gently pumping. 

It was indeed a pretty sight.

The thick slick of your arousal and cum soon was on your lips, Sam prying it open. It wasn’t up for discussion – you didn’t hesitate either. You taste the bittersweetness coating your tongue and mixed with your saliva, eagerly sucking out of Sam’s fingers. She moaned at your enthusiasm, encouraged by this you sucked more of your remains out of it, your teeth grazing along and Sam pushed it deeper until you felt her slender fingers slightly poking at your throat. 

Once she was satisfied, she handled you differently by flipping your position so now you straddled her leg and faced Sam instead of the mirror. Her lips quickly made its way to give you open mouthed kisses to your sternum, to your neck, finally your mouth.

“You did so well, mi amor. And you were so pretty.” You shyly nodded at Sam’s praise. “Remember that, hm? Regardless of dressing like this – lingerie or not – I’ll look and appreciate you the same way.”

“Mm-hmm,” you lazily nodded and met Sam’s gaze.

After Sam helped you dress your clothes. While being fucked the lights out earlier was heavenly, the walking out of the fitting room was not pleasant at all. Your legs feel like jelly, you can barely walk properly without Sam’s tight support on your waist (you refused her offer of carrying you not wanting to be further embarrassed) but it helped that there weren’t any side glances from the assistants. 

Oh, heavens. You forgot that Martin was also waiting inside the boutique. Even if he remained mum, you couldn’t be any more humiliated today.

Sam pushed back her slightly tousled hair and you helped her smoothen the back of her clothing. As for her trousers, the damage has been done and it’s currently stained with your wetness. An odd sense of pride came at you because you did that.

Sam held the undergarments – even the one she destroyed and fucked you into and personally offered to place it inside of the provided bag and then handed her black card. 

“We’ll take the seat too, the green one in the fitting room. I’ll send someone to pick it up today.” she uttered in what you recognize as her professional voice, the lady simply smiled, replying with Yes, Ms. Loomis, as she agreed with no hesitation.

You hid your face in the crook of Sam’s neck and your cheeks burned. Sam only giggled at your shy reaction. She wrapped an arm around you and brushed your hair gently as she leaned closer to you.

::

“Come back ‘ere.” Sam lazily mutters, voice still raspy. She was still in bed which was such a miraculous sight. Not only because her godly body was exposed but the fact that she stayed in. Her arms were reaching out to you, caressing your bare lower back and eyes barely open. “It’s so cold, you know.”

You gave her a wistful smile. “And you do know that I’m out of clothes here, right? I also happen to have a place of my own, Sam.”

“You can always–”

“–borrow yours, yeah. I know, Sam. But I have to go. My work stuff isn’t here either.”

She sits up fully. “Okay, baby.” Sam replied dejectedly. You shake your head at how she’s acting like a kicked puppy and barely the same as an insatiable sex god from last night. “How about I drive you home? This is an inarguable offer, by the way.”

Sam gave you a pointed look and you can’t help but think if she’s tricking you – seducing you, almost. She’s unashamed with her nakedness and the way she crossed her arms, further made her biceps prominent, the mysterious scar across them, and her supple breasts gave you a mouthwatering view. You chose to ignore how your stomach fluttered at her use of endearment. The more time you spend with Sam, the more they slip out.

“Don’t talk business to me, Sam. You’re so annoying.” You turn back fully facing her with an impish disbelief, grasping at the sheets to cover yourself. 

Sam looked at you with childish glee on her face. “Excuse me, you were the one who brought up work. I’m simply reminding you of what you are absolutely missing while I’m on leave for today, mi princesa.”

“Fine, fine. It's not my fault that I’m a corporate slave.”

“That’s why being with me is a good idea.” Sam insists with a kiss on your jugular notch. “Come on, I was planning to make your favorite dish. Maybe you can do it with me, what do you think?” 

“Very professional.” You sigh at Sam’s silliness unfolding in front of you. “You just know all the right words to say…”

She crawled her way to you, shutting you up by capturing your lips with soft ones. It was chaste and you felt her smile in between. Moments like this only tugged at your heartstrings. It deluded you that it was somehow coming home to your girlfriend, only to be shaken to the reality of you knowing it was an unlabeled limbo with an old friend. So you shift, initiating with much force this time, getting rough with how you were kissing Sam as though it was your last time. 

“Am I still annoying if I do… this?” You feel Sam’s calloused fingers smoothly trailing on your inner thighs, making you shiver. You throw your head back as you reeled to her touch. The familiar wetness reemerged on your core once again.

Before she could do anything else, her phone rang. Sam immediately went for it and barely a trace of her sweet disposition remained as she excused herself.

You blinked at her reaction, paying not much mind to it. Instead, you let your body relax in the softest mattress you’ve ever laid on and quickly, you’re pulled by the thoughts of Sam again, missing her already as you sprawl onto the bed, smelling the distinct coconut shampoo and addicting lotion that she uses and how it clung to the space you laid in. 

Half an hour had passed. Getting up, you look around where she could have been, only to find her out in one out of two living rooms, absorbed with the phone call she's in. It wasn’t your plan to eavesdrop but your heart sank soon as the words became much clearer to your ears. 

"Yes, I'm dropping by the strip club tonight... of course." 

Strip club… tonight? Her words came out in a hush, obviously Sam didn’t want to be heard or rather, caught. No wonder she has been insistent on you to stay this morning. 

You simply weren't Sam's fix for this evening.

With cautious steps, you retreat back to Sam's bedroom and with the disgust that brewed in, bile rising in your throat, you start dressing up.

"I thought we agreed that you're staying?" Sam raised her hands in confusion.

"Work couldn't wait, sorry. It’s bugging me the more I ignore it.”

Sam’s face fell immediately at your sudden change of mind. Your heart twinged a little, almost believing that it was genuine.

"Alright. Let me drive you home, (y/n/n)."

Your smile twitched as you hummed in agreement. Suspicion and confrontation will rise if you didn’t, and given what you just found out, you truly didn’t feel up for it.

"I'm bummed that you won't be cooking with me, just so you know. I'll make it alone - don't worry, it will be filled with love and care, a perfect fix as you get your reports done." Sam enthusiastically clasped her hands to you and it only made harder for you to stop the tears that were threatening to pour.

The way Sam took you in her grasp, arms loosely clung around your neck and the mesmerizing gaze she held was doing the opposite reaction. You felt repelled, uneasiness continued to flow through your mind. You've just heard her in the same beat a few minutes ago planning to go to not only a mere club to drink for fun - but a strip joint? Her intentions became even more confusing to you.

Your resolve was crumbling and it was becoming apparent when Sam leaned in for a hopeful kiss and you dodged it, her puckered lips hit the corner of your mouth instead. If she was baffled and had finally picked up your sour mood, you didn't see it as you continued to avoid her gaze.

The car ride was silent. It didn't even occur to you that Sam actually drove you home, but instead of filling the space with laughter and bickering over your taste in music, the two of you were met with an odd silence. You peer at the window throughout the ride, the silent turmoil grew inside of you at the backseat as the car drove on your way home. Eyes fluttering rapidly, you feel the waterworks coming in. Of course this was only a matter of time before it was confirmed to you that you weren’t only the one being fucked by Sam. 

You felt gross. The inkling worry that filled you previously turned out to be right. You just hated yourself for blindly trusting her and giving further meaning to her mistaken gentleness. 

::

Honestly, you did plan that to be your last time to see Sam.

At least temporarily, you wanted to avoid her. You kept making excuses about how you had a lot of work to do. You knew it was unrealistic to actually avoid her forever, not when you literally were tangled with her on her sheets for a couple of months already. Unless you were to flee the country, of course. The idea is slightly tempting. You consider it, albeit impractical, it’s one of your last resort of choices. 

You were used to her scent from her bedsheets to her clothes and to her sleepy self arguing that she is very much awake during your random movie nights, her voice – everything revolves around Sam now and you hated it.

It felt like you were a teenager again with a hopeless crush on the girl you’ve liked from afar for years.

Even as you pulled away from Sam, your brain was racking through heaps of what-if thoughts – were you ever enough? Why did she have to make you feel so special, leading you into this domestic bliss? She always made time. Besides the good, you witnessed her downs, the aggressiveness, how her indistinguishable job took a toll on her. All because she let you in. You wondered why she even thought of you as worthy as such, yet made you feel of being less than that, at the same time?

However, if there is a light to all of this domesticity you shared with Sam that gave you warmth, there were also a lot of questionable actions that she specifically kept on doing. She appeared hesitant with dropping you off to your house and insists that one of her drivers will do the honors instead – with the sex on the table, it made you feel disposable and cheap – or how sometimes hours after sex; you get a sleepy glimpse of Sam sneaking onto the balcony. The faint noises of her raised voice in her phone, doing god knows what – you were there, unaware if it was a conversation with another woman and maybe, just maybe, Samantha Loomis wasn't as heartfelt as you naively believed her to be.

As you expected she didn’t drop by at your house. Her little gifts and take outs from restaurants that you liked and visited with her continued to be sent every weekend. You didn’t know whether it was out of pity or a proper goodbye in her own terms, making your stomach churn uncomfortably at the thought.

Your friends weren’t any less worried even with your now constant appearances for hangouts and karaoke nights, they gently explained that your mind often fled elsewhere and your gloomy disposition was noticeable. It’s not that they were annoyed, your friends were concerned more than anything. So, you finally open up but not too much. You retell you were in this Friends with benefits recently and it ruined your sanity, for better or worse, all in vague descriptions. After all, you were sure that now Sam was more likely ashamed of being seen by you and wanted to keep her bachelorette status.

The chorus of oh sweetie in an understanding tone immediately came and when they hugged you, it worsened the longing you felt for Sam and how you have been entangled with her this whole time.

“It sucks how you can get roped into that so suddenly.” Jane, your friend, empathised. “does that count as a situationship – or whatever it is they call it nowadays?”

“Let’s call it friends with benefits for the sake of simplicity.” Margo, the colleague who ironically was one of the main reasons why you got into the gala and met Sam, nodded her head with no hesitation. “I don’t understand why it is that hard to communicate something simple as that. And getting her fix of pleasure in another place, too, Jesus Christ.”

“Feels a bit of a power trip to me. Based on what you’ve said, how she’s got a sexy mysterious vibe going on and while that sounds sexy in other ways, I can only imagine how it must’ve taken a toll on you, (y/n).” Jane adds with a forlorn expression on her face.

They were expressive with their opinions - you liked how your friends were very protective of you. They felt betrayed almost as much as you do soon as you mentioned that Sam was a friend of yours way back.

Although, you hated how there’s a lump in your throat and a part of you was ready to jump in Sam’s defense. Before you drown more in the thoughts of her, you decided to pour another shot. 

“Fuck that. Let’s drink to this,” your words come out slurred and your friends only follow suit.

Sam didn’t stop spamming you with messages. It was expected considering that she’s the most insistent person you have met yet. Still, you shrug her off, saying that you work overtime these days and you don’t feel like being a booty call for a while – or ever for her. But Sam’s resolve proved to be unwavering as she updated you about her thoughts and invites of coming back home; her words, not yours.

::

“You know, if you’re up for it, you should totally meet this girl. Most blunt person I’ve met yet, so.” Margo indiscreetly implies that it shouldn’t be as troublesome as your previous limbo was. “She’s also really hot. And just down for either something casual or serious, depends how you talk about it.”

“Margo, you know I don’t think–” you shake your head. Besides being full of what-ifs and considering that you might have a good time, your thoughts keep bouncing back to a specific Latina in your mind.

Your mind swirls, not knowing why it feels like a betrayal deep down.

“Just give it a chance.” Margo interrupts, firm with her stand. “One date. It’s also been almost two weeks since you’ve been moping. You know we don’t mind that but- I just wanted to tell you that the dating pool is full of choices. 

What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[dizscreams]

I wanna ruin our friendship PT 2 — Tara Carpenter ★

part one here!

PAIRING: Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Tara’s confession to you after accidentally friend zoning you for so long

A/N: OKAY HERES PART TWO!! ty for all the positive feedback on part 1! :)

TAGS: @perfectartisanwerewolf @icarly23 @dogsayswoof @btay3115 @cartierdreamx

“Hello? Y/n? I’m coming to your dorm right now can you meet me there, it’s important,” Tara spoke quickly and bit the nail on her thumb shakily while she paced back and forth.

“Um sure Tara, is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, just hurry,” and with that Tara hung the phone up leaving you dumbfounded. You looked at your date apologetically and gathered your things, “Shit, I’m sorry but I have to go-“

“What, Is something wrong?”

“It’s just my friend she wants me to meet her right away, I think it’s important,” you said standing up.

“Do you want me to bring you home?” They ask stuttering from the abruptness of the situation.

You turn to face them, “No, I’m okay, but thank you! I had a good time tonight,” you give them a sweet smile before hurrying out the restaurant’s door. You wonder what Tara could want.

When Tara hung up she wasted no time in running out of her bedroom door.

“Mindy!” Tara yelled while walking in the living room where all her friends sat. “I’m meeting y/n at your dorm, could you come with me and let me in?” She talked so fast, Mindy almost couldn’t keep up with what she was asking.

“Can’t I just give you the keys?” Mindy asked raising an eyebrow at the frantic girl.

Tara rolled her eyes, she was annoyed and in a rush, “I mean you could, but I need you there with me so I don’t say anything stupid to her.”

“But-“

“No buts Mindy! C’mon on lets go lets go!” Tara ran up to the girl and dragged her out of her seat, “this is important!”

“Okay okay!” Mindy groaned and put her hands up in defense, “I’ll go with you, Jesus.” She muttered.

“Thank you!”

And with that they both quickly left. Tara practically running while Mindy struggled to keep up.

When Tara and Mindy made it to the dorm they barely had time to settle in before you walked in, a worried expression on your face. Your eyes darted between Tara and Mindy, “Hey, is everything okay? Did you guys get hurt or something?” You asked out of breath, it was clear you ran here and that made Tara smile a bit knowing you still really cared about her.

“Y/n, hi,” Tara says softly, “um I just wanted to talk to you about something.” Your eyebrows furrowed, “So, nobody died? On the phone you sounded like you got hurt or something and what’s Mindy doing here?”

“Um hello, I live in this dorm too-“ Tara cut off Mindy’s sentence by lightly slapping her arm and giving her a look. Mindy sighed and rolled her eyes before sitting down, she might as well get comfortable if she has to witness this.

“I brought Mindy to let me in..” Tara started saying embarrassed, “…and cause I wanted her support .” She muttered and you barely made out what she said. She looked at you for a moment. Your breathing was more even than before and that confused look she found so adorable was still stuck on your face.

Mindy cleared her throat loud enough to snap Tara out of her trance. “Right, okay.“ You waited for her next words patiently, the poor girl seemed so nervous you thought she’d throw up. Tara composed herself, if she was going to do this she was going to do it right.

“Y/n, you’re my best friend and I don’t see you as a best friend. I mean you mean more to me than that.” Mindy resisted the urge to face palm herself and your confused state didn’t change. Fuck. “I mean I like you and I don’t like Chad. I flirt with Chad but I don’t mean it, I just like him- him as a friend. He’s my friend and you- you’re not. I mean you are!”

“Okay!” Mindy intervened getting second hand embarrassment. She turned to you, “I apologize for Tara. She can’t be romantic at all,” she said glancing at Tara then looking back at you. She said something to you that Tara couldn’t make out and left.

She couldn’t quite read the expression that was now on your face but she knew you were calm and that eased her a bit. “Tara why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some water,” you said already walking to the kitchen. Tara nodded, “Yeah, sure.” She took a deep breath and when she made sure you were in the kitchen she pulled out her phone and texted Mindy.

T 🤭 ‎ WHERE TF DID YOU GO??

Mindy 😘 ‎ I was getting embarrassed for you, T. Have you never confessed to someone before?

T 🤭 ‎ It wasn’t even that bad

Mindy 😘 ‎ Right that’s why Anika’s laughing at you rn

T 🤭 ‎ YOU ARE SUCH A TATTLETALE

Dude I need your help

Mindy 😘 ‎ Just be like “y/n I’ve liked you for a long time I’m sorry I’m too stupid to realize you were flirting with me. I flirt with Chad as a joke and he feels the same. we don’t like each other like that. I really like you and I would like to take you on a date” boom it’s plain and simple babes

T 🤭 ‎ Anika helped you with that didn’t she

Mindy 😘 ‎ Can you stfu and go confess your undying love

T 🤭 ‎ Tell Ani thank you and that I love her

She put her phone down at the sound of you walking back in the living room, “Here.” Your gentle tone made her heart melt. “Thanks,” Tara sipped the water and put it on the coffee table. She took another deep breath, “Let me start over, y/n. I really want to make this right.”

You nodded at her to continue. Tara patted the spot next to her urging you to sit next to her on the couch, which you did. “Okay so, I like you. I like you as more of a friend, y/n. You just mean so much to me and I’m sorry I didn’t realize you liked me. I’m sorry you thought I liked Chad cause I don’t,” she chuckled softly before continuing, “and I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

You looked at her only to find she was staring right at you. The soft grin that took over your features had Tara’s stomach erupting in butterflies. It gave Tara the hope that she had made things right. You took Tara’s hand and put it in yours, gently tracing her knuckles with your thumb. “I like you too, T.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Thank you.”

She matched your tone, “You’re welcome.”

The two of you had a moment looking into each other eyes and grinning like idiots before you broke the silence. “So which one of them helped you rehearse that?”

“Huh?” Tara asked with a tilt of her head and you giggled. “I don’t know I was just wondering if Mindy or Anika helped you with that cause that was really good. It was definitely better than what you had said when I first came in.” Tara laughed loudly at that, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was Anika.”

When both of you calmed down from laughing Tara decided to break the silence this time, “Will you go out with me?”

You almost scoffed, “I thought you’d never ask.”

YAYAY AND THERE IT IS! Hope everyone likes it, I had fun with it :)

[choerrypuffs]

fast times.

pairing: co-worker!donghyuck x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.6k

synopsis: throughout the snapshots of your life, lee donghyuck is always there. (or, you realize that you’re in love with the bane of your existence.)

author’s note: i started grad school and it’s literally eating me alive so i wanted to write something short and sweet to de-stress and then it ended up being almost 8k words 😭

warning(s): excessive drinking, family tension

playlist: fast times by sabrina carpenter ― the bottom by gracie abrams ―  stress by taeyeon ― ruin my life by zara larsson ― cruel summer by taylor swift 

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022  sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating 

Liquid courage, as the poets say.

Well, don’t fact check that, but surely Wordsworth or Coleridge or whichever poet that Taylor Swift talks about in the lakes mentioned something about getting shitfaced during a St. Patrick’s Day office party.

Regardless, you’re going to pretend like they did because it’s a lot less romantic (lowercase r, not capital like the movement) if you’re just drunk off your ass at an office party without an artsy-fartsy literary reference to back you up.

You’re one too many shots of tequila deep, swaying to the shitty techno music that someone is blasting from their pretentious Spotify playlist while stumbling past the office cubicles, including yours and He Who Shall Not Be Named’s, on your wobbly trip to the bathroom.

Despite the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, the remaining coherent part of your brain is sounding the alarms that you’re probably going to throw up soon. You wish that part of your brain would just shut the hell up because you don’t want to think rationally right now.

You don’t want to think about He Who Shall Not Be Named and how he’s in love with your best friend. You don’t want to think about how his eyes found her the moment she walked into the office, how his gaze melted into a pool of honey, his head swiveling towards every direction she went like a stupid bobblehead. Not that you blame him; everyone is in love with Karina. It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyways.

Ugh, see? You’re thinking about him again.

Anyways, you’re also grateful for that part of your brain because the poets definitely do not write about spewing chunks in front of your co-workers. You just want to hurl in peace and wallow in your misery with the porcelain toilet bowl by your side.

The poets probably wrote about that.

You finally make it to the hall where the bathrooms are, having steady yourself against the wall as you make your way down because walking in a straight line has become a luxury. However, you only get about five steps (at least you think it’s five, numbers are hard) when someone grabs your arm. You don’t even realize your legs are in the process of buckling until there’s a pair of hands supporting your waist to keep you upright.

“Jesus, Y/N,” someone breathes in relief, exhaling loudly.

You’d recognize that condescending tone anywhere.

He Who Shall Not Be Named carefully leans you against the wall, one hand still on your waist while the other removes the bottle of Jack Daniels that you didn’t even know you were clinging onto from the nook of your arm. With one smooth motion, he tosses the bottle into the trashcan and doesn’t even flinch when the bottle very audibly shatters inside.

“I know you’re a loyal worshiper of mine, but just Y/N is fine,” you slur, not sounding nearly as cool as you’d hope, “though it’d be pretty fucking funny if you washed my feet.”

He huffs and pauses, like he’s debating on whether or not he should say what he wants to say next. And because he’s a piece of shit, he says it:

“For the record, Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. Not the other way around.”

You groan, shoving him hard. He barely budges, so most of the force in your shove kicks back to you. Feeling yourself tip forward, you grab his shoulders out of instinct to avoid busting your head open against the hard tile. In the process, your forehead slams into his chest, and he lets out a soft grunt. His hands grip your elbows, fingertips warm against your even warmer skin.

“I hate you,” you sniffle, burying your face in his shirt. He smells exactly like a fluffy towel that just came out of the dryer. “You’re tactless and you never let me win and you have shitty taste in movies.”

“And you’re drunk,” he replies nonchalantly, “Why do you drink so much when you’re such a lightweight?”

“You don’t deserve Karina,” you continue angrily.

He actually laughs at that. “Okay, young lady. I’m going to drive you home now. Come on.”

You lift your head so fast that you nearly slam it into his jaw; luckily, he sees it coming and steps back before you can knock his teeth out.

“Don’t,” you hiss, poking his chest. “I don’t want you to drive me home. Don’t drive me home unless…”

He raises an eyebrow. “Unless what?”

“Pretty boys can never be trusted,” you hiccup.

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, but let’s continue this discussion when you’ve sobered up,” he sighs, crossing his arms. “And when you are sober and realize that you don’t want to talk about this anymore, like I suspect you’ll do, I’ll even pretend like this conversation never happened because I am a gentleman.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” you whisper blearily.

You’re wearing a green t-shirt that has “Kiss me, I’m Irish” plastered across the chest in big, bold white letters. You borrowed it from Karina when you realized you didn’t have any green in your closet. Of course, only Karina would look good in something like this, but you really didn’t want to be pinched the entire night. Someone had plastered four-leaf clover stickers all over your face, though you’re not sure how many of them are still on at this point. Your makeup should be intact since you haven’t been sweating, even if you probably have mascara residue under your eyes. You’ve certainly looked better, but this definitely isn’t the worst state you’ve been in.

It’s a stupid question though, really. No matter how pretty you are, he’s already chosen Karina.

When you glance back up at him, he looks like one of those cartoon characters that have two perfect red circles on their cheeks when they blush.

You haven’t seen him this flustered in a long time. He’s always had this smug, impenetrable mask of an expression that you want to punch off his face―like he’s constantly one step ahead of you in something.

You want to take out your phone and take a picture of his expression so badly.

Instead, you hunch over and throw up on his expensive shoes.

VALENTINE’S DAY 2018 my feelings used to be serrated, but you speak in such a perfect cadence

Pretty boys should never be trusted.

That is your ultimate mantra in life.

Especially pretty boys that claim to be “nerdy.” The ones that smell nice and aren’t misogynistic but also like games and anime and know how to code. The ones that wear indie band t-shirts and actually enjoy the band but don't care if you wear the same t-shirt just because you like the aesthetic. The ones that wear rings on their fingers and metal-rimmed glasses on the tip of their noses.

The ones that other girls would claim were “written by women.”

It’s all a trap.

If anything, they’re worse than the obnoxious frat boy chads. At least those are straightforward about what they want. Nerdy pretty boys are professional manipulators, meticulously slicing your heart into thin little pieces to use as a garnish for their own ego.

So when the new intern swaggers into the office, hands tucked into the pockets of his designer slacks, your Pretty Boy senses start to tingle.

He’s wearing a crisp white button-up (not a band tee since he’s at work), and he’s got rings on his fingers and metal-rimmed glasses right on the tip of his nose. His hair is a little curly and falls into his eyes in that messy but charming look. He’s got a round face and pouty lips, looking just sweet enough to disarm someone.

After he walks in, the CEO of the company follows, and now everything makes sense.

“Everyone, this is my grandson, Donghyuck,” Mr. Lee explains, smiling warmly.

Nepo baby, you realize, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“I want you all to know he won’t be getting any special treatment,” Mr. Lee says firmly, “He will have to work his way from the bottom, just like everyone else.”

Right, that’s why you’re personally introducing him to us, you think wryly.

After receiving a load of ass kissing from the employees, Mr. Lee finally leaves, and your team leader points Donghyuck to the empty cubicle right next to yours. He strolls over with an ease as if he owns the building (he technically does) and takes a seat. He smiles at you, though it reads as more of a smirk than a good-natured smile.

“Hi, I’m Donghyuck.”

When he looks at you, he does so with his whole body. His lanky frame is completely angled towards you as he unabashedly drinks in your side profile with his mischievous, twinkly eyes. The way he stares at you with such intrigue makes you jittery, and you keep your line of sight glued to your computer screen, refusing to indulge him even through your peripheral.

He’s deploying his Pretty Boy tactics, you warn.

“I know,” you snap back. You don’t mean to come off that aggressively, but you just know he’s trouble. In an attempt to remedy your curt response, you softly tack on, “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Donghyuck asks, the quirked grin on his face growing.

You blink in surprise. You were not expecting him to say it so straightforwardly. “I…just met you.”

“You’re not answering the question.” He tilts his head, though he doesn’t seem particularly bothered by it. Rather, he probably already knows the answer.

You’re not sure what to say to that, and Donghyuck doesn’t try to continue the conversation either. Instead, he begins to unpack his stuff and set up his work space. When he turns on his personal laptop, you see League of Legends downloaded onto it.

Yikes.

Like the standard pretty boy, he starts hanging up an indie band poster, along with some anime ones you don’t recognize and―a Twilight poster.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see it. Men, even the pretty boys who are trying to make themselves as appealing to girls as possible, rarely ever admit to watching, much less enjoying, Twilight.

Okay, so maybe your Pretty Boy tingle got one thing wrong, but it doesn’t change the fact that he checks most of the Pretty Boy boxes―

“Are you Team Edward or Jacob?” Donghyuck asks, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

You have no one else to blame but yourself for snooping, but you still grow hot from your face to the tips of your ears and all the way down your neck.

“I’m Team Charlie,” you reply breezily, sounding pretty calm for someone who’s screaming on the inside.

His eyebrows slightly raise, and he just laughs quietly to himself.

You relish in that tiny victory.

.

.

.

As it turns out, Donghyuck is an extremely fast learner.

And despite being a nepo baby, he puts his money where his mouth is. He picks things up extremely quickly and utilizes everything he has learned efficiently. In fact, he’s doing so well that he’s starting to threaten your position as the office’s favorite intern.

And of course, on today of all days, you fuck up.

Another intern messed up the report, and you somehow overlooked it while you were checking. However, the responsibility falls on your shoulders because it was your job to make sure the report was correct. You get viciously chewed out by your team leader, and you’re guaranteed to have to work overtime to fix everything.

Ultimately, it is your mistake, and you’re not disputing that; you just know that you’re being made an example of so the office can look good in front of the CEO’s grandson.

So, while everyone is gathering their stuff to leave, you’re the only one still at your cubicle, fingers clicking away on the keyboard. Your eyelids are already starting to droop, despite the fact that you have at least a couple hours left of work. Giving yourself a couple of smacks on the cheeks, you try to shake away the brain fog and keep going.

You’re so immersed that you almost don’t notice Donghyuck set down a cup of coffee on your desk.

“I bought two for myself, but I think you need it more than me,” he admits, actually seeming a little sympathetic.

“Thanks,” you say, a little wary but still appreciative. You’re too tired to even question his motives.

He gives you a wave before leaving. Once he’s gone, you turn back to your computer and start to work again. You nearly forget about the coffee until you pause to take a big stretch, noticing it in your peripheral. Picking it up, you notice there’s a message scrawled on it.

happy valentine’s day! maybe i’ll grow on you :)

You smile, but only a little bit. Only because he’s a little cute.

When you finally take a sip, you nearly spit it all over your computer screen.

It’s so bitter that it sends a shudder throughout your whole body. You start to cough, feeling like even a single drop of that coffee getting in your system is going to make your short circuit. You’re not even sure if this poison could be considered black coffee. It might be actual black tar. Frantically digging through your drawers to find some candy or gum to offset the bitterness, you begin to curse Donghyuck in your head.

When you finally find a half-melted caramel cube and pop it into your mouth, it occurs to you that Donghyuck didn’t even have a cup of coffee in his hands even though he said he bought two.

“That asshole,” you whisper.

Cracking your knuckles and rolling your neck, you start to type again with a renewed vigor, thinking of all the ways you were going to make Donghyuck pay to power you through the rest of the night.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022  sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating

You’re not sure how He Who Shall Not Be Named manages to clean himself up and wrangle you into his car in such a short timespan, but he does it. Most of it is a blur to you, though you do recall him throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carrying you through the parking garage after you started trying to fistfight him.

Now, you’re leaning your head against the cool window, watching all the buildings whizz by, as he drives in silence. Well, not complete silence. Music is being softly played on the radio. It’s that stupid indie band he likes, and you hate that you know exactly what song it is. You remember it from last time.

I’ve only been in his car twice, including now, you think groggily to yourself.

He must really like this song.

APRIL FOOLS 2019 three stories up here contemplating, but what the fuck is patience?

“Is this some sort of sick April Fools’ joke?” you demand.

“Come on, Y/N. Surely, you don’t think a prank of mine would be this lame,” Donghyuck retorts, offended.

The two of you are fighting again. At this point, it’s a daily occurrence in the office. In fact, Karina likes to say that the official work day doesn’t really start until you and Donghyuck start going at each other’s throats. You feel bad that everyone has to constantly deal with your bickering, but Donghyuck asks for it every time.

“You can’t just take someone else’s client,” you say through gritted teeth, wanting to smack that insufferable look right off his face.

“I didn’t take anything,” he corrects haughtily, “I was assigned your client, who is now my client. Take it up with the team leader.”

“The team leader would suck a fart out of your ass if you asked him to,” you hiss back.

He shrugs like you have a point.

“Fine,” you snap, grabbing your bag. “I’ll go talk to my client myself. I’ll get them to request to be transferred back to me.”

Before marching out, you grab the coffee on your desk and down it all in one go. It’s been sitting there for a couple hours, so it’s ice cold. The cold temperature in combination with the extreme bitterness is just the right mixture to light a fire in you.

Unfortunately, that fire is dimmed when you step foot outside and realize it’s thunderstorming heavily. The wind howls so piercingly that it almost hurts your ears, and the onslaught of rain is so strong that you can barely see the cars on the streets. You weigh your options: you have no car, there’s no way you can wait for a bus, and there sure as hell aren’t going to be any available taxis.

Just as you begrudgingly decide to do the walk of shame back into the office and wait out the storm, you hear a loud honk and see an obnoxiously red Ferrari pull up. The tinted window rolls down, and you find yourself staring at nepo baby Lee Donghyuck.

“Need a ride?” he shouts over the pouring rain.

“Not with you!” you holler back, turning to go back inside.

“Are you really going to wait it out?” he teases. “Their office closes in twenty minutes.”

You want to keep walking and ignore him, but your traitorous feet plant themselves on the concrete and refuse to let you take another step.

“Thanks for the new client, I guess!” he continues in a sing-song voice. A car behind him beeps, and you hear his window roll back up as he slowly starts to drive away.

“Damn it,” you mutter. Not giving yourself to think, you whirl around and dash out into the rain. Luckily, he decided to leave at a snail’s pace, so you have time to fling his car door open and slip inside.

Even though you were only in the rain for a few seconds, you’re soaked to the bone. Your pants make a squish noise when you settle yourself into his expensive leather seat. You want to make a joke about ruining his seats, but your teeth are chattering too hard for you to even speak.

Donghyuck reaches over and turns your seat warmer on before also blasting the heater. Your thin blouse has become see-through, and you awkwardly cross your arms over your chest, hoping he hasn’t noticed. Unfortunately, he has noticed, judging by the way he loudly clears his throat and reaches into the backseat to give you his hoodie.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pulling it over your head before slipping your arms through. The sleeves are too long, so you roll them up to your wrists. His hoodie smells like fabric softener.

“No problem.” His voice cracks.

Neither of you say anything after that, only the sound of the rain pitter-pattering against his car filling in the silence. Eventually, he turns on the radio.

It’s a song you don’t recognize, but you deduce it’s from one of his indie bands when he starts humming along. You’re not even sure he’s aware that he’s doing it, though you don’t really mind. He’s not a bad singer, and you actually enjoy the song.

The two of you spend the remainder of the drive just listening to music, neither of you really feeling the need to speak. It’s a calm, comfortable silence―something that you never thought would be achievable between you and him. Rather, you wish you had more moments like this.

By the time you arrive at your client’s office, the rain has stopped. You assume he’s going to leave after dropping you off because it’s not raining anymore, and especially since the meeting ends up lasting way past the office’s closing, but you see his Ferrari still there when you come back out.

Walking over to him, you knock on the window.

“You didn’t have to wait up,” you say when he rolls it down, slightly touched.

“You have my hoodie,” Donghyuck states plainly.

Well, there goes the moment. You can always count on him to say something to piss you off.

“Right.” Rolling your eyes, you start to take off the hoodie in the street.

“I’m just kidding, Y/N,” he grins, “Come on.”

You let out a small huff, even though you’re smiling too, and you climb in. He turns the radio on again, and the two of you fall back into the ambiance. It occurs to you that Donghyuck’s car smells overwhelmingly like rain and leather and him. When you cross your arms, the scent of the fresh fabric softener from his hoodie wafts back up to you. You feel warm―the kind of warmth that blooms in the pit of your stomach and then melts throughout your body, like when you take a sip of hot chocolate on a cold day.

“How was it?” he finally asks after the song ends.

“Who do you think I am?” you scoff. “Of course I got them back.”

He smiles, and it makes you feel proud.

“You can tell the team leader to suck the fart out of my ass,” you retort.

This gets a laugh from him before he hesitantly adds, “I really didn’t want to take your client.”

You’ve never heard him sound so serious and so…vulnerable before. He says it with a slight desperation, like he doesn’t think you’ll believe him.

“I know.”

And much to your own surprise, you do know.

Now that’s a sick April Fools’ joke.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating 

“You don’t deserve Karina,” you mumble, coming in and out of sleep.

He Who Shall Not Be Named laughs again at that, though he sounds a lot more exhausted. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Don’t think I didn’t see it,” you slur. “You were making those stupid moon eyes at her all night long. Looking like some lovesick puppy. Gross.”

He laughs for a second time, but there’s not a hint of humor in it.

What if it had been me, you want to ask him.

NEW YEARS EVE 2019 tiptoeing past so many stages, but what the fuck is patience? 

You’re not sure what possessed Mr. Lee, probably the fact that his grandson works for the company, but he randomly announced one day that the entire office was getting an all expenses paid trip to a fancy ski resort as a New Years present. Needless to say, everyone was absolutely ecstatic.

But you should’ve known something was going to go wrong when Karina suggested that the two of you leave the bunny slope and move straight into the advanced slope, despite the fact that neither of you have ever skied in your lives until now.

You’d like to think that Karina’s sudden bravery was due to the adrenaline of being on such a luxurious trip. You’re going to blame your lack of judgment on the adrenaline rush as well because you actually agreed to it.

Of course, things derailed almost immediately and literally because the two of you ended up veering off the course due to your lack of steering abilities and somehow found yourselves in a random, remote wooded area off the edge of the slope. Karina also twisted her ankle after landing incorrectly, so there’s that too.

Oh, and there’s a snowstorm.

Well, it’s not really a snowstorm. It’s more of a flurry, but it’s terrifying nonetheless because of your current situation. Karina can barely move, and neither of you have any clue where you are nor do you have any sort of communication device since you left it all at the resort. It’s not like you can leave Karina by herself to get help either. You can really only hope that someone finds you before the frostbite starts settling.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Karina sniffles, her nose redder than Rudolph’s.

You hug her tightly, both to comfort her and to keep the two of you as warm as possible. “Stop crying, you’re going to dehydrate yourself. You can apologize when we get out of here.”

She chokes back a sob.

You want to cry too, but you bite down on your lower lip and just cling onto Karina harder.

“Damn, and I was finally going to follow through with my New Year's resolution of fixing my sleep schedule,” you joke, voice trembling.

Karina laughs weakly at that too. “You say that every year.”

“I know,” you admit sheepishly, “but I really am going to this time. I need to make sure I’m in tip-top condition because there’s no way in hell I’m letting Lee Donghyuck get that promotion over me.”

That’s right, you tell yourself. I can’t die here. Not before that dumbass.

You’re not sure why you’re suddenly thinking about him again, but it makes you feel a lot less scared when you picture his dumb smirk and that sly glint in his eyes when he’s gearing up to say something to piss you off. He always knows which buttons to press on the exact wrong day to press them.

You kind of wish he was here now. He would probably be cracking stupid jokes and distracting you―

“Y/N!”

Blinking the snowflakes out of your eyes, you squint past the sheet of snow and tall trees, trying to make sure you aren’t hallucinating. You see a blurry figure running towards you and Karina, the beam of their flashlight peeking through the darkness. When did the sun start setting?

Speak of the pretty boy, and he shall come, you suppose, because Lee Donghyuck is suddenly kneeling in front of you.

The smug look he always dons is wiped clean from his face, instead, his eyes are wide like two saucers and his hands are trembling. You can feel how tightly he’s clutching your arms even through the thick material of your parka. His hair is damp against his forehead; whether it’s from snow or sweat or both, you’re not sure. His face is flushed, and his nose is red like Karina’s, but you want to reach out and boop it for some reason. You can see his labored breath come out in white puffs due to the temperature.

“I found them!” Donghyuck calls out, turning behind him. A couple of your other colleagues emerge from the trees, all holding flashlights. Then, he reverts his attention back to you. His face is all furrowed up, like he isn’t sure whether to be mad at you for being reckless or collapse with relief.

“Are you hurt?” he eventually asks, voice strained as he helps you to your feet. He brushes the snow out of your hair and lifts your ski goggles from your eyes, scanning your face.

“Karina twisted her ankle,” you reply numbly, unable to feel your lips.

He glances over at Karina, who’s being helped by your other co-workers, before looking at you again. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head.

Donghyuck exhales loudly, and you watch his shoulders relax. Then he says, “What the hell were you thinking?”

You flinch at his sharp tone. He’s never raised his voice at you before. You’ve always been the one yelling at him.  

“You can’t even drive a car, so what on Earth possessed you to try and ski on the advanced slope?” he continues to reprimand you. “What’s the point in being this smart if you’re not going to use common sense―”

You burst into tears.

You cry for many reasons: the sheer terror you’d been trying to keep at bay finally catches up to you, you’re grateful to be alive, you’re upset that Donghyuck is scolding you, you’re happy that Donghyuck is scolding you, and most of all, you know he’s right. He’s right, and you’re glad he’s right. You’re glad that he’s standing in front of you.

“You’re such a dick,” you wail, “I can’t believe you’re yelling at me when I almost died. Why can’t you just comfort me like a normal human with empathy?”

Donghyuck grows quiet, and you see his expression soften. Sighing, he reaches over and swipes the tears from your face. When you sniffle, he takes his expensive cashmere scarf and wipes your nose with it. He doesn’t even blink at the snot on it as he cups your frozen cheeks with his gloved hands. Grinning evilly, he squishes your face together, a mush of tears, snot, and puffiness.

“I’ve never wanted you more,” he teases.

“I’m going to kill you,” you grumble, shoving his hands away. Though you do find solace in the fact that he’s making fun of you again.

Your colleagues call the two of you over for help, and you make your way to Karina, who’s still unable to get up.

“Hyuck, do you mind carrying her back to the resort?” One of them asks, their hands too full with Karina’s skis and their own emergency supplies that they brought.

Donghyuck hesitates for a moment, his eyes inadvertently flashing towards you, before he kneels down and turns his back to Karina as he prepares to give her a piggy-back ride.

“I’m heavy,” Karina warns as she carefully climbs on.

“Don’t worry, I do five pushups a week,” he replies breezily, and despite his joking, he stands to his feet without a problem.

She laughs at that, sounding like an angel descending from the heavens.

He adjusts her thighs in his arms slightly, pausing to ask, “That didn’t hurt your ankle, did it?”

She shakes her head, and he says something else that makes her laugh again.

It’s not that you’re jealous that he’s carrying Karina. After all, she’s injured, so it would be a bit obnoxious to be upset over something that isn’t anyone’s fault. And it’s not like you’re any more special to him than Karina.

No, this feeling isn’t jealousy. It’s…uncertainty.

You’re uncertain that he would do the same for you if you were in Karina’s position. Has he ever reassured you with such ease like he did with her? Has he ever treated you like you were made of glass? Has he ever spoken to you so tenderly like that?

You suddenly feel so cold.

Three.

When you get back to the resort, there’s an ambulance waiting to take you and Karina to the hospital for a checkup. You try to tell everyone that you don’t need to go to the hospital, but your colleagues, Karina, and the paramedics insist on you doing so.

“Your glove is torn.”

Before you can even register his words, Donghyuck is holding your hand and flipping your palm over. The fabric of your right glove is ripped, exposing the tip of your pointer finger. You must’ve scraped it against something in the middle of all the chaos because there’s some dried blood caked around your nail.

“You should go,” he says softly, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze before letting go.

Once Karina is properly settled on the gurney, you’re ushered into the ambulance after her. As the doors close behind you, you catch Donghyuck’s eyes one last time. You don’t get to see what his expression is because you look away almost immediately, focusing your gaze on your finger.

Now that the adrenaline has worn off, it does sting a little.

Two.

.

.

.

Once the hospital finally discharges you and Karina in the middle of the night, the two of you call an Uber back to the resort and clumsily stumble up to your room like two people that just came home after a long night of partying, completely exhausted.

You’re so busy fumbling with your room key and nearly miss the gift that someone has set in front of your door. Picking it up, you realize it’s one of those hot chocolate sets that come with a cute little mug and are wrapped in holographic plastic. There’s also a separate bag of marshmallows beside it.

You don’t really examine it that much, simply handing it off to Karina.

“Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer.”

One.

Karina doesn’t notice the note tucked into the holographic plastic until she’s hobbling to the trashcan to throw it away.

happy new year! maybe i’ll grow on you :)

She turns to you to ask you about it, but you’re already tucked in bed fast asleep. Shrugging, she crumples the note up and tosses it away without another thought.

“Happy New Year,” she whispers to you before crawling in bed herself.

It’s a shame you didn’t get to see the fireworks.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating 

“I’m hungry,” you whine, jolting awake and hitting your head against the hard leather headrest on your seat.

“Probably because you emptied out the contents of your stomach onto my Air Jordans,” He Who Shall Not Be Named says wryly.  

You ignore him, getting distracted by the hot dog vendor that you drive by.

“I like hot dogs,” you say absentmindedly.

HALLOWEEN 2021 picturing us in all these places, ahead of myself’s an understatement

You just wanted to get away from the crowd, really.

The party was getting a little stuffy, and it’s pretty easy to get overheated when you’re in a thick Teletubby onesie. You and Karina had the bright idea of dressing as the purple and red Teletubby, but neither of you considered just how hot it would get.

So, that’s why you’re wandering around the dim hallways of the office, munching on a handful of candy―only to end up hearing a conversation you shouldn’t have.

“You are my biggest failure.” That’s Mr. Lee’s voice, hushed but angry.

“More than my mom? I’m honored.” It’s Donghyuck this time. He laughs, a bitter and choked sound.

You nearly yelp when the sound of a loud slap echoes down the hallway. No one else talks after that, and you only hear the sound of footsteps walking away.

Actually, walking away sounds like an absolutely amazing idea, so you turn on your heel to make a quick escape―

And of course, on today of all days, you fuck up.

All of the candy that you had been clutching to your chest slips from your sweaty palms, clattering to the floor. Every single clatter makes you shrink further and further into yourself, and you have no choice but to step out from the corner you were hiding in.

In probably one of the most poorly-timed situations of all time, you have to face Donghyuck while dressed as the purple Teletubby, and he has to face you while dressed as a hot dog―right after you just involuntarily witnessed a glimpse of his strained familial relationships.

“Hi,” you greet awkwardly, gesturing to all the candy that just fell on the floor. “You, uh, want some candy?”

When he looks at you, all the words die in your throat. There’s a red mark on his cheek, and he looks like a little boy again. He stares at you like a deer in headlights, a mixture of horror, embarrassment, and frustration all over his face. He seems so lost and alone, and you don’t know what to do to help him.

“No thanks, Tinky Winky,” he finally replies. He gives you a half-smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What?” You blink.

“You’re dressed as the purple Teletubby, and you don’t even know his name?” He raises an eyebrow as he sits down on the floor, leaning against the wall.

“I think it’s weirder that you do know his name,” you try to tease.

He doesn’t react to that, and you just stand there. Not wanting to leave him alone, you squat down and start to pick up the candy on the floor to keep yourself busy.

“You should go back to the party,” Donghyuck says quietly.

“It’s too hot,” you complain.

“Y/N.”

“Wanna watch Twilight?” you suddenly ask.

He stares at you for what seems like forever, his expression unreadable as he searches your face. After a bit longer, he just says, “Okay.”

You gather up the rest of the candy before taking a seat on the floor right next to him, brushing your shoulder against his. Pulling out your phone, you open the Netflix app and start to play Twilight.

You pretend you don’t feel him trembling, and you tell yourself he’s crying because he knows Bella will eventually choose Edward over Jacob. The two of you watch in complete silence; he doesn’t explain, and you don’t ask.

Instead, you push your hood off so you don’t poke him in the face with your triangle antenna and lean your head against his shoulder. Then, you lace your fingers through his and hold his hand without a word.

A hot dog and Tinky Winky the purple Teletubby watching Twilight, who would’ve thought?

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating

“I hate you, Lee Donghyuck.”

He doesn’t say anything to that.

CHRISTMAS 2021 outlines on bedsides, give me a second to forget i ever really meant it

It happened on the last day of work before Christmas break.

You gawk at the opened box in your hands, a pair of fluffy white angora gloves wrapped in fancy wrapping paper staring back up at you. Even though there’s no receipt included, you already know that these gloves cost more than three month’s worth of rent for your apartment.

“Did you steal these? Is that why you’re giving them to me? So you can frame me for your crime?” you ask suspiciously.

“Please,” he rolls his eyes, “as if I’d let you take the credit for any one of my crimes.”

You carefully take the gloves out before tossing the box at him. Catching it deftly and handing it back to you, he pretends to wipe away a tear dramatically.

“I went through the trouble of remembering how your gloves were ripped during the ski trip, so I meticulously picked these out for you,” he whines. “And I can’t believe you’re now questioning my goodwill.”

That makes you pause.

Is he talking about those cheap gloves that you used only once for that disastrous ski trip and then threw out immediately afterwards? The gloves that you haven’t thought about once since then? The gloves that you had to rack your brain to recall when he started talking about them just moments before? You can’t believe he remembered something so random.

Why did he remember?

It’s a question that haunts you on the entire plane ride back to your hometown and follows you throughout all of your family dinners and even when you’re lying awake on your cramped childhood bed.

It’s a question that both baffles and angers you at the same time. You wish he didn’t remember, and you wish he never gave you those gloves in the first place. The company is always generous to their employees around the holidays, and you know that this isn’t anything special, but it makes you feel special. It makes you want to be special. To him.

He is just a pretty boy. A pretty boy that likes indie bands and wears rings on his fingers and metal-rimmed glasses on the tip of his nose. A pretty boy that likes League of Legends and Studio Ghibli and Twilight and that one Hallmark movie you once caught him watching in the break room. A pretty boy that drinks black coffee. A pretty boy that drives a red Ferrari. A pretty boy that gave you a ride in that red Ferrari when it was raining. A pretty boy that looked for you for an hour during a snowstorm. A pretty boy that dressed as a hot dog for Halloween. A pretty boy that gave you expensive gloves because he remembered.

When did he go from Pretty Boy to Donghyuck?

But he can’t be Donghyuck. He can’t just be Donghyuck to you. Because that would be too real, too unrestrained. Because Donghyuck makes Karina laugh, so he can’t make you laugh. There needs to be decorum, after all. If he’s just Donghyuck, then what happens after?

That’s right. He can’t be Donghyuck. From now on, you won’t say his name. You’ll only know him as He Who Shall Not Be Named.

.

.

.

It happens when your mom tells you to take the casserole out of the fridge.

You see it, that traitorous pack of hot dog sausages.

You think back to Halloween, and then―

Oh my God, I like him.

“What the fuck,” you groan loudly.

That gets you a couple of gasps from your elderly relatives and an asswhooping from your mom.

ONE DAY AFTER ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 ― PRESENT fast times and fast nights, no time for rewrites

For the record, Donghyuck was not looking at Karina.

And if you’d stop avoiding him like the plague, he would be able to explain that to you.

He honestly applauds your ability to ignore the elephant in the room, considering that his cubicle is right next to yours. You’ve continuously managed to give yourself more work or conveniently slip away to the bathroom during any moment of down time. His patience is honestly starting to grow thin, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t wear it down to the wire.

Donghyuck finally manages to hunt you down in the same hallway where you threw up on his shoes. It’s hilariously ironic, and he would normally make a joke about it, but he’s in a bit of a time crunch. You look like a spooked cat, preparing to dart away the moment there’s an opening.

“Surely, someone as smart as you is aware that you can’t just avoid me forever.” He tilts his head.

“Well, if you move, we can find out if I can or not,” you reply, refusing to look at him and trying to walk past him.

“How’s your hangover?” he asks cheerfully, stepping to the side and blocking your way.

“Awful.”

“Do you remember what happened last night?”

“No,” you say instantly. You’re such a terrible liar.

“You said you hated me,” he starts softly. He isn’t sure why he’s saying this. This isn’t what he wanted to talk about first. The order is getting jumbled in his head. “Do you?”

You suck in a wobbly breath. “No.”

It doesn’t hit him until after your answer how deathly afraid he was of you hating him. He has grown so desensitized to the word “hate,” yet it’s only when it comes to the person he cares about the most that the gravity of that word becomes so apparent.

“I like you, Y/N.”

This isn’t exactly the grand declaration of love that he was imagining; he was thinking more along the lines of The Notebook or any romcom from the early to mid-2000s, but it felt like the right time to just say it now.

Your reaction isn’t exactly what he had in mind either.

You’re gawking at him like he just grew another head. He isn’t sure why you’re so surprised; he hasn’t exactly been subtle about his crush on you.

“No, you don’t,” you say in an accusatory tone. Leave it up to you to even argue with him on his own feelings.

Now it’s his turn to gawk. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” you state firmly, but it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. “How could you like me?”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, and he starts listing off reasons with his fingers. “I start a fight with you every morning because I want to have an excuse to talk to you, I bring you coffee everyday, I drove you to my client’s office in the middle of a storm so you could take back said client, I nearly shat my pants when they said you were missing at the ski resort and also bought you hot chocolate and a huge bag of marshmallows for New Years, and you were the only one I gave a Christmas present to last year.”

“You bought the hot chocolate and marshmallows?” You blink in surprise.

“Is that all you got from what I just said?”

“But Karina―”

Oh, right. He wanted to say this first.

“I wasn’t looking at Karina,” Donghyuck finally confesses, “I was looking at you. It’s always been you.”

That’s right, it’s only ever been you.

The stupid green “Kiss me, I’m Irish” shirt. Your smeared lip gloss that he wanted to kiss right off. The sparkly stickers all over your cheeks that made you look absolutely adorable. The way you buried your face into his shirt. How you fit right into his arms. Even when you threw up all over his favorite pair of shoes, there was no place Donghyuck would rather be.

Do you think I’m pretty? you had asked him.

Yes, you’re pretty. You’re so pretty that he feels like his heart will stop every time he lays his eyes on you. You’re so pretty that he can’t even think about the seasons without thinking about you and how you’re so much more beautiful than autumn, winter, spring and summer and anything in between. There’s never been a moment when you weren’t stunningly, breathtakingly, and heart-stoppingly pretty in his eyes.

“But―But that doesn’t make any sense,” you sputter, “You can’t like me!”

“Why not?”

“Because you just can’t.”

“Do you like me?”

“Yes―no! Regardless, you can’t just suddenly decide you like me―” you begin to explain.

“I’ve always liked you,” he points out.

“We’ve spent four years hating each other, and now all of sudden, we like each other? It’s too abrupt―”

“Y/N.” Donghyuck reaches over and grasps your wrist, his warm fingers against your even warmer skin as his thumb traces circles against the back of your hand. “Will you go out with me?”

When he looks at you, you have the same expression on your face as when he first met you and caught you staring at his Twilight poster. Your eyes dart around nervously, your pulse pounding against his fingertips, and he knows he has his answer.

“Okay,” you breathe.

He sighs, coiling an arm around your waist and pulling your body flush against his. Leaning his forehead against yours, he whispers, “Now was that so fucking hard?”

He kisses you, and you taste like everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.

[slvt4lanadelrey]

The Pretty Firefighter | part five | Tara Carpenter

Warnings: mature themes, inappropriate comments, swearing, possessive behaviours.

Tara was enjoying herself, Travis was an amazing friend to you and it was obvious. When the waiter came over, you shut down stuttering when it came to asking. Considering the fact Tara and you hadn't been to a restaurant before; both of you preferring to stay home, order take out instead. Travis was quick to answer for you, whispering to you and getting your order and telling the women on your behalf.

"Jesus. I made a complete fool of myself." You sank into your chair, slightly slipping away from Tara's embrace. She didn't say anything, knowing you needed comfort in the moment instead of accusing you of being cold around Travis.

"Its-" Tara tried to calm you down, but Travis stepped in.

"It's fine, Y/N. I bet they get a thousand people in here everyday with social anxiety, you don't need to beat yourself up over it." He smiled, taking a drink of his soda. Tara nodded, holding your hand under the table.

"You have anxiety?" Tara asked, embracing this side of you that you were yet to share with her.

"It's not that bad." You tried to apologise for your actions, having a need to be sorry for your less than perfect features for anything to do with public spaces, or how you interacted with people you weren't associated with.

"It's gotten a lot better, me and Anika are really proud of her." Travis commented, smiling calmly at the two girls.

Tara hummed, letting your hand fall to the seat.

"I bet you're just so proud of her." She rolled her eyes, sulking in the corner. Travis tilted his head, noticing the way Tara was glaring at him like he had just committed the most heinous crime to humanity.

"So, how did you two meet?" Tara's mood shifted within moments, more than happy to engage in a conversation about your relationship.

"At a party, the same one where Anika met Mindy, Mindy's actually my best friend too." You nodded, smiling into the room; the atmosphere shifted, no longer awkward but full of life.

"That's adorable." He chuckled, wanting to hear more. Whether it be your own delusions but you felt like Travis and Tara could be friends, they talked like they knew each other for many years.

"Y/N sat on the couch for all of the party, she was tucked away so I didn't see her until Mindy found Anika. Mindy told us to talk, so we did." Tara carried on, gushing about your relationship freely. Your leg bounced, smiling and nodding at everything she would say. She noticed the way your eyes darted between her and Travis, your nails slowly chipping away.

Tara's hand placed down on your thigh, smiling through her cup of soda that she sipped occasionally.

"Y/N's honestly the kindest girl I've ever met, she's a keeper, Tara—" Tara smiled at Travis, she was about to agree, claim you in public once again before he spoke up.

"Shame she never looked twice at me." You laughed, hissed slightly when Tara's hand squeezed your thigh. She gritted her teeth, her breathing beginning to stagger at the thought of the man in front of her sending you advances.

Once again, she was hit with the reality that you had only been her girlfriend for a few weeks, nearly two blissful months that were filled with nothing but developing love.

"Excuse me?" It slipped through her grinding teeth, her nose flared at Travis who smiled like nothing was wrong.

"Oh? Yeah, I had a huge crush on Y/N, like since the day I met her. But—I was just some dumb hook up to her." The air was pushed out of your lungs, the cola that was in your mouth being gulped down when you choked on it.

"Oh my god." You gasped out, watching as Tara glared like she could commit mass genocide.

"Funny. Travis, she never told me that, she told me you were her friend. Empathise on the just friends part" you sank down in your chair, looking ashamed at your lack of communication with your girlfriend.

You were a quiet girl, you weren't the type to name out of all of your hookups, especially the ones that you're still friends with. Call it humour, but you wouldn't kiss and tell. Anika only knew you and Tara had sex because Tara screamed it at her at the party, and again when Anika noticed thick hickeys across your neck a few days prior.

Your fingers grazed your neck, thinking about the hickeys made you remember the bruising ones that took you ages to cover up.

"Personally, I don't think being an ex hookup would make a good friend, guess you two are living proof." She hissed out, snarling like a wild animal defending its territory.

"I guess, but so are you guys." Tarvis replied, his tone level; which made Tara see red, how could he be so calm?

"Me and Y/N aren't friends, she's my girlfriend." Tara's hand clamped harder around your thigh, leaving a stinging feeling to tingle across your leg.

"He meant that, babe." Your hand rolled over her back, smiling at her in hopes to calm her sour mood. She nodded, smirking at you.

She leaned forward, to your great horror, putting on a show for anyone to stare at. Her tongue brushed into your mouth, holding you still as she literally flashed off what's hers.

After a painful amount of toxic femininity on Tara's side, her stating her almost ownership over you left you in a foul mood by the end of the night. The ride home was heaven, it was dead silent; only the late noon traffic, and the odd few people walking their dogs.

"Take me home, Tara." She looked away from the road, bit her lip at your hushed tone.

"I said I was sorry, come on." She pleaded with her baby browns, her hand not daring to touch your thigh this time in the car.

When you didn't answer her back she huffed out a breath, annoyed at you and the situation she forced on herself.

"I'm not an object, Tara. I'm a fucking person, not a piece of land!" You grew tired of the way she presented you. It was erotic, a huge turn on whenever she would be possessive. Now, it's just a toll on your health.

"I'm sorry, but he clearly likes you and you're my girlfriend." Tara sighed, looking over at you in sorrow. She was sorry, more than she let on.

"I don't care, Tara. It was so fucking embarrassing. You almost fucked me then and there in the middle of the restaurant." You shouted back, your anger physically radiating out of you. Your teeth grinded against each other, a sharp sound echoing through the empty car.

"Why wouldn't you tell me you had sex with him!" Tara shouted with a husk; silk to your ears under any other circumstance. the argument escalated; something that could have been resolved in a few conversations now drawn out wide.

"Are you really going to talk about questionable sex life's?" Your snarky comment had Tara raising her eyebrow, her jaw clenched.

"And what does that mean?"

"Frankie has a big mouth." Tara dropped her head, debating on whether to pull over so she could argue properly.

"Fuck me! I was drunk." She stated, acting like that wasn't the same predicament you were in with Travis.

"So was I, Tara!" She groaned, finally pulling into your apartment block. She stopped outside it, deciding against parking.

"Good night." You stammered out before slamming her car door. She didn't like the attitude, so, when you disappeared into your block, letting the door collide with the hinges as the steam gasped out of your ears, she drove into the car park and parked her car.

She ran into your apartment, slamming her fist into your door. When you opened it, eyes wide when they met Tara's, she brushed past you.

"I get I was being a bit too much, I understand why you wouldn't like to tell the world your mine. But the fact is, you're mine. You're my girlfriend, not Travis, not anyways else. That's how I function in a relationship, I want the relationship to be sacred and not shared. If my values don't align with yours, then we should break up." It was in the moment of anger, red hot striking through her. She didn't mean what she said, so when you shook your head and slammed your body onto herself she released a heavy sigh.

"I don't want that." You breathed out, holding her for dear life.

"My friends mean a lot to me, they're like my second family. Travis is a part of the fact, so you'll need to be less hostile with him." She thought for a moment, waging the pros and cons.

"Fine.—" she rolled the both of you onto the couch, tucking you down onto the soft surface.

"Okay, so that ban you set earlier…is it finally over?" She asked, settling above you. Her finger rolled down your front, teasing you with a smile.

"We just had our first ever argument, which almost ended with us breaking up, and your mind thinking about sex?" You laughed at her, pulling her hand away from your body.

"If it makes you feel better, I was thinking about sex during our argument. I was like, yes! Angry sex, which by the way is the best." She chuckled back, kissing your lips in a steady kiss, hot passion flicking within the girl above you.

"Nope. The ban is still valid." You pushed her away, pushing off the couch to grab the remote.

"But please!"

"But no."

Tara pouted, her eyes glimmering with sadness.

"But why?" She let out a high pitch whine, straddling your thighs before you could react.

"Tara, you literally man-handled me in the middle of a restaurant because I have a past—" her fingers ran up your neck, holding you still at the mention of Travis.

"So I have something to prove? Prove that I'm better than them?" It wasn't a challenge, you were not battling with her talents, but it was too entertaining to watch as Tara almost went to war all in order to assure everyone knew that you were her girlfriend.

She smirked down, already seeing the ocean of lust wash over your frame; tongue darting over your lips, fingers wrapping through her belt hoop.

"I could be swayed within reason."

[madaboutmunson]

Wishin' And Hopin'

Telepathy (Prompt A2 ) Summary: In which Eddie realises he might have some residual power from The Upside-Down and plans to use it in the best way he knows how, to impress the guy he's had a crush on for months

Word Count: 2740 @eddiemunsonbingo

AO3 Link ******************************************************************

Healing from the aftermath of The Upside-Down was a struggle. There was no denying that, but two very awesome things happened due to that epic shit fest.

Larvae and Germs of the jury I present to you:

Exhibit A: Getting to spend a lot of alone time with one disgustingly handsome Steve Harrington, who basically looked after me like he was my sexy nurse.

Exhibit B: Some juvenile stage telepathy.

We’ll get back to that fine specimen of Exhibit A later.

Let us first deal with Exhibit B.

So, at first, it was just kinda weird. I was half-watching Wheel of Fortune with Wayne while brainstorming some campaign ideas, and I could hear him repeatedly shouting a word of the answer. Honestly, I love him, but repetition in the same monotonous tone was getting right on my last nerve, like a smoke alarm that needs new batteries. Except no beep, just  “World” over and fucking over. 

So, I, well, okay, not my finest moment, but I might have lost my cool and said a little loudly, “IT’S ON TOP OF THE WORLD!!”

He clutched his pearls and recoiled into his corner of the sofa, all wide-eyed and slack-jawed and had the cheek to say, “Jesus Christ, Eddie. Ya nearly sent me straight to the pearly gates!”

“I was helping you with the answer you were evidently struggling with!” 

“Eddie, there ain’t a single song that left the beauty of Karen Carpenter’s mouth that I don’t know. Just ‘cus I don’t blurt out the answer to ruin it for the whole trailer park!” “Ok! Alright! So I can’t say the full answer, but you can keep repeating one word of the answer repeatedly. Like that wasn’t going to annoy the fuck out of me. You’re deliberately bein’ an antagonistic asshole, Wayne!”

Then he just looked at me. Like how he looks at those Canadian geese when they get too close to him at the park, “Eddie, I didn't say a word.”

Now I rolled my eyes and gave it the whole raspberry award at his performance, which did almost have me going, by the way, but the way he just continued to stare at me and look me over like I’d just fallen out of the sky. I knew he wasn’t lyin’. That’s when I started to get scared. I thought I’d slipped into one of those Vecna vision things.

“What did you hear, Ed?”

“You were sayin’ ‘World’ over and over.”

“I was saying the answer, but not out loud, Ed. Just in my mind.”

“Ok, well, that’s ridiculous. How could I possibly hear what's going on in your mind?”

“Fuck if I know. What am I thinking now?”

“Are you serious right now? I’m on the edge of sanity here, and you are making out like I’m Luke Skywalker or some shit? That's it. I’m going to bed! You know Steve doesn't pull this shit when it’s his turn babysitting me!”

I grabbed my crutch and started hobbling over to my room, and he started up again, this time with ‘Discombobulated.’ 

I turn round, and he’s wide-eyed, staring at me, gulping down his beer. I was just about to give him a piece of my mind when he pulled the beer from his lips with a gasp and said, “Now, if I was drinkin’, there ain’t no way I coulda said that word. For the record, I can’t for the life o’ me say that word out loud anyways. But I can think it.”

“Fine, let's play your silly game, old timer. Do it again. This time with me watchin’ your lyin’ ass!”

He knocked back his beer again, and I was ready for his lame-ass ventriloquism when I heard him clear as a bell “Bill”. I hobble over to check he’s not talking out of the side of his mouth or some shit, but he wasn’t

“Bill?”

“Yeah! It's a miracle, Eddie! You can read minds!”

“OK, don’t alert the Pope just yet. It might be some creepy shit left over from that messed up place we were stuck in.”

“We should practice!” He said as he frantically pulled me back to the sofa.

“Who the hell is Bill, by the way?”

“It's not a he. It's a what. I was saying, ‘Remember to pay the telephone bill.’ “

So we tried all different things for a few hours every day for the next few nights when he wasn't at work, but all I could ever get was one word, which had to be quite an intense thought. Fleeting ones just didn't hit my radar. So I guess if my telepathy was a developing human, it would be in the butt shuffling to the almost crawling stage.

I tried it around town, and boy, do the people of Hawkins have a lot of fucking issues! Ha! The ones that look like a curse word would knock them dead are the worst of the lot!

So, the moment you’ve all been waiting for back to Exhibit A!

So naturally, when my rugged Florence Nightingale came a-callin’, I had to try it out. I am only human. Who wouldn’t wanna know what is going on in that pretty lil’ head of his underneath that voluminous mane?

So, I started with something small. I put on a scary movie. He jump-scares pretty easily for a guy who’s fought freakish things from other dimensions in melee range. When one of the characters went to the basement instead of out the door, I could hear a faint ‘always’.

“God, they always do that, don’t they? It’s so dumb, right?”

He turned to me with that ediblely cute half-smile and said, “Weird, I was just thinking that!”

“Great minds think alike, I guess? But we are kinda both watching the same thing.” 

His puppy dog eyes flick up to the ceiling because, apparently, that is where all the answers are for Steve. His thinking face, urgh, stunning! Don’t get me started! He gave a shrug, nodded and went back to watching the movie.

After a while, I got a much louder word, ‘Pizza.’

I can’t make it too obvious, so I try to get up and head to the kitchen, and he’s on it like butter on a biscuit, “You hungry? Sorry, Eddie, I should have made something before the movie. I won’t be long.” Then I got “Eat,” so I knew I was on the right track.

“Hey, uh, save you cookin’. Why don’t we order a pizza?”

“Pizza? I mean, yeah, I could go for it, but I thought you said last week you didn't wanna eat anything you couldn’t see prepared, in case the government put trackers in it?”

He was right; I did say that and meant it. But who in their right mind would deprive this stud muffin of his cheesy treat, huh? Not me, that's for sure, because I know what happens when Steve gets happy.

He smiles big, and his honey-flecked eyes cast down and back up, “Thanks, Ed. I’ve been thinking about one all week, but it's a waste on my own.”

“We lucky for you, Steve, you have the gift of my presence this evening, so you don’t have to worry about that, and if we don't finish any, I know Wayne will snaffle it when he gets back.”

Then he let out one of those sweet little laughs he does, and I had to wait for him to turn his back to me so I could clench my fists and wrinkle up my nose in some weird kinda cuteness aggression.

Then I heard ‘Hot.’

So when he asked me what kind I wanted, I said, “I dunno, I’m feeling like a little spice could really hit the spot tonight.”

That earned me a hip pop and a finger gun, wink combo before he turned back around to order, twirling the cable around his finger, and I got a picture-perfect view of that ass for a minute or so. 

Then, until the pizza turned up and the entire time we ate it, the word didn't change. ‘Hot’, that's all he’s thinking about.

I figured it might be too spicy for him, so I grabbed two yoohoos from the fridge and set one in front of him without asking this time.

“Oh, thanks, but I’m good Ed. I still got some beer left over.” 

I thought maybe he didn't wanna show that the spice was getting to him, but I left the drink there all the same.

The pizza is long transferred to the kitchen, and we were well into Steve’s movie of choice at this point, Ghostbusters. I can’t get much of anything for a while, but he seems fully absorbed in the film, laughing along and quoting some of the lines. I loved that movie, but I’d have given my other nipple to have Steve be my personal reenactor of the film for the rest of my days. 

I got up to take a leak, and I could hear ‘Hot’ again. So, on my way out of the bathroom, I collect a table fan, put it on the coffee table, and switch it on. The room didn't feel that warm to me, but I knew Steve ran like a furnace. You only had to be within a few inches of him to luxuriate in that fucking man-heat of his. 

Look, I know that's weird ok, but as someone who runs fucking cold, I’m into it, alright? So just keep your opinions to yourself.

My prize for cooling down my summery prince? A fucking confused frown! He took the remote and paused the movie, “Do you want me to get you some shorts or something rather than the fan? They tend to be a little quieter and less expensive to run.” He made a joke, and I laughed embarrassingly hard at it.

“You don’t feel warm in here?”

“No, man. Are you ok? You feeling ill?” Then his hands are on me. Well, okay, he was just checking how warm my forehead was, and my pulse, but facts are facts.

“No, I’m good, man. So good. I just thought you looked warm.” Then he blushes. It was as if someone had crushed red roses onto his cheeks. His pretty little pout dropped open, and for the first time in a long time, he actually looked awkward. I would have consoled him immediately, but I got distracted because he ran his hand through the side of his hair, and I wouldn’t miss a beat of that move, not even if my knees were on fire.

“Well, I’m not. I-I can explain that. I, um…yeah…I kinda tried some of Robin’s moisturiser on my skin because she said it made it look good, and it's probably just making me look shiny. I’ll just…yeah…I’m just gonna go wash my face.”

Then I got a new word, ‘Fuck’

And I still can’t tell you what possessed me to do so, but when he got up to leave, I grabbed his arm, “Don’t do that, man, you look great. It's, uh,  not shiny at all. Your skin is as perfect as it always looks. I just read you wrong, that's all.”

Then he’s staring at my hand, and that word comes back again ‘Hot.’

And then, okay, maybe because I’m touching him properly for the first time, not a nudge in the ribs or the brush of the back of my hand. Usually, he’s the one touching me for medical purposes, obviously, but I’m not a moron. I’ll fucking take that as a win. Thank you very much.

Or maybe it's the way he looked right in my eyes. I don't know, but I caved. I spilt my guts. The quality control between my brain and mouth had gone out to lunch.

“Then why do you keep thinking ‘hot’?”

His eyebrows nearly shot off his face, “What?”

“You! You keep thinking the word ‘hot’. I can kinda read thoughts, well, just words. Well, just word, actually.”

“You-you…What? You can read my thoughts?”

“No, it's not as advanced as that.” Then, I explained everything that me and Wayne had been practising.

“Shit, do I need to call everyone? Is it upside-down stuff?”

“I dunno, maybe, but I don’t feel unwell, and nothing else weird has happened. Wayne is still okay, and we’ve been trialling it for a while now.” That seemed to take him out of panic mode and into something more relaxed.

“Huh. So you can hear a word but don’t have the context, right.” Then he stops, squints, and tilts his head with a big smile, “That's why you ordered the Pizza. That's why you picked a spicy one, the drinks and the fan! Ok, ok, that makes sense now.”

“Yeah, sorry for not telling you. I just wanted to try it out, and maybe that was desperately underhanded of me, and I shouldn't have, but…”

“You wanted to impress me?” He raised his eyebrow at me, and honestly, the sofa could have consumed me whole, and I wouldn’t have noticed because then I was stalled, and the engine wouldn’t turn, “Eddie?”

“You just do so much for me, and most of the time, you guess what I want or need without any help, and I thought, maybe I could give that back to you, you know? I thought it would be cool.”

He could have killed me with the next smirk and head shake he gave me before shutting off the fan, settling back in his seat, and unpausing the movie. I felt like I’d gotten away with it and shuffled back, too.

A few minutes later, I heard ‘You.’

When I glanced at him, he was frowning hard at the TV screen. The word silenced as he turned to me with a beaming smile, “If you get it, tap my arm.”

“OK, sure. That could be fun.”

‘Are’ Tap.

‘So’ Tap

“Stupid?” I had blurted out at the same time as that word of the night came crashing back into my head

‘Hot’ ………….tap

Steve’s face fell, and he scrambled to get up, “Sorry Eddie. Shit. I just thought. You know what. I don't know what I thought, ok. I’m-yeah. Fuck! I’m just gonna go.”

I rushed to scramble after him, but I couldn’t seem to get my usual motormouth going because my whole brain was mush due to a demi-god calling me, ME,  hot! Fucking hell, fellow perverts, I tell you this. If, at that point, I had been an able-bodied man and hadn't been on a one-way journey to the floor. Steve Harrington would have been out that door, and I probably would never have seen him again. But I’m not, and he’s a fucking superhero, so naturally, he just caught me in his stupidly perfect sculpted arms that were trying desperately to break free from that uptight polo shirt he loves to wear.

“I-I-I-I thought you were gonna say stupid. I mean, think. I mean….you know what I mean. What I mean is I didn't mean what you said was stupid!

He just blinked at me as he set me to my feet, still holding me upright, looking over me, checking I was okay.

Then, instead of letting me go, he stared right into my eyes, and how I didn't end up back on the floor again, I don't know. I can only imagine it was because his goddamn thick, taught, tanned thighs were enough support for both of us.

‘Kiss,’ I heard and stood there like a gormless idiot.

‘Kiss’, and until that point, all the words I’d heard had been just a flat tone, but this one shouted in my head. So I put on my big boy pants and tapped his arm, even though my mouth felt like the desert.

“Now?” I croaked out, and he nodded in response.

So, I did what any red-blooded human would have done in my situation. I attempted to climb that man like a tree, failed, then with his assistance tried again and succeeded, and gave him the kiss I’d been storing up for months.

Now, now be good, fair readers. Avert your fucking eyes. The rest of that evening is all mine. Let’s just say he liked that kiss. 

A lot. 

He was very appreciative. 

Many times. 

So much, in fact, he’s still walking around our house mentally shouting for them five years later.

[sxmpfxrortega]

Blinded by Secrets

an: hello :) i am back and *not so* better than ever. I'm gonna be doing multiple chapters of this because there's quite a lot.

Warnings: blood, kissing (later on), nsfw (also later on), mentions of unalivings

ps. this is a g!p reader story :)

hope you enjoy!

/////////////////////////// 1 /////////////////////////////////

It was a chilly night in New York, you were getting goosebumps despite your robe and your mask.

The wind picks up as you near the river, you let out an exasperated huff.

You take the lifeless body that was once over your shoulder and sit him on the ledge, dumping him into the water.

As he begins to sink, your phone dings; it's a message from Tara, your best friend.

Tara: Hey, where are you? The friend group's been looking for you... you're making us worried.

You sigh in frustration as you hit the call button, calling her.

Tara picks up after the first ring, her voice filled with worry.

"Hey, are you okay? We thought something terrible happened to you. Where are you?" she fires off quickly.

You laugh into the phone, finding her rapid fire of questions adorable, "Uh-no? I had to pick up my little brother from his friend's house. I'm sorry, he had a panic attack." You lied easily to her despite the feeling of hatred you had for yourself doing so... but you can't let her know what you've just done.

The relief in her voice can be heard, "Oh my god, is he okay? Are you still with him?"

You sigh a little, your head has a dull pounding, "I just dropped him off, I'm heading to the apartment in a bit, I need to change."

She sounds more relaxed once you say that, but you can still hear a tinge of worry laced in her voice, "Why do you have to change? Is something wrong?"

Shit. Probably shouldn't have mentioned that.

You stammer slightly, trying to think of something quickly, "No, yeah, everything's fine, I just uh... spilled some coffee in my lap. You know me, clumsy and now unfortunately sticky."

You laugh awkwardly and slap your forehead and think to yourself, 'nice one, jackass'

Luckily, she laughs as well, "You and coffee stains don't go well together, huh?"

You smile and imagine that cute smile that shows her dimples.

God, are you a simp or are you a simp?

You chuckle softly, "It definitely is better consumed, I must say."

She giggles sweetly at your sarcasm, more relaxed, "Okay well... you said you'll be here soon? How long will you be?"

You think to yourself for a moment, your eyes scanning the dark alleyway, "Uh... give me like 20 and I'll be there."

You can practically hear the smile in her voice, "Alright, hurry up then, I'm ready for some cuddles."

You're taken aback, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, "O-oh?"

Your brain is malfunctioning as you tug at the collar of your robe.

She laughs deviously, "You heard me."

Your mouth opens and closes for a moment, barely able to formulate a sentence, "How could I resist?"

She laughs, "You can't, so hurry up. I miss you, dork."

Your heart is hammering in your chest, and just for a moment, you forgot you just dumped a body into the river.

"Who all's there right now?" You say, clearing your throat, trying hard to regain your composure.

She takes a breath before responding, "Quinn, Ethan, and me. We're in the middle of a game, but I want you right now."

Your eyebrows raise at how bold she was being.

Jesus Christ, Tara Carpenter will be the death of you, and you're more than okay with that.

Your words are quiet, "Where's your sister, goober? She hardly leaves you alone."

She lets out an exaggerated sigh, "I know, I'm surprised as well... she's actually with the guy next door. Now will you please stop playing 20 questions with me and get here so I can see you!?"

You can hear the pout in her tone and practically see the puppy dog eyes.

You chuckle at her, "Ma'am yes ma'am, don't wanna keep you waiting."

She giggles cutely, "Finally, I can't wait to see you."

You smile to yourself a bit at her dramatics, "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay, hurry it up." She says with a laugh.

You hang up the phone and sigh harder, looking down at your body.

You have blood all over you from the person you just killed.

You rip your Ghostface outfit off and throw it in the gym bag in your trunk.

Jumping in the driver's seat, you speed off to your apartment to change.

[alexmeeksmartin]

chosen family - pt i

pairing(s): wes hicks x male reader, slight chad meeks-martin x male reader

synopsis: the one where y/n roberts, survivor of the 2011 woodsboro massacre and brother of ghostface killer, jill roberts, is roped into another string of murders when his friend, tara carpenter, is attacked by someone taking on the moniker

a/n: new series! not sure if i’ll end up finishing this, but i would like to at least do a couple parts! hope u enjoy <3

wc: 1.9k

it was more than enough to struggle with the fact that your sister, jill roberts, had decided to stab you alongside your mother when you were only eight years old. ironically enough, your fame-hungry sister’s sickening plot to become a sole survivor is what thrust you into the limelight. for years, the media hounded you about the ghostface killings of 2011. it took you forever to get a group of friends who wouldn’t try abuse your connections. you were finally in a stable position…

…but now some fucker had decided to put on that damned mask and go stabbing again.

“that was sam.” your boyfriend, wes, let everyone know. you were all together, minus tara, obviously. you, wes, chad, mindy, amber, and liv. and nobody was taking this seriously, not even you at this stage. none of you had really processed it all properly yet.

you watched as amber’s interest was immediately piqued. “she’s coming?”

“yeah.”

“watch everything get worse.” amber says with a sigh, clearly unhappy about sam’s upcoming return to woodsboro.

“listen, all i’m saying is, with everything going on right now, i think it’s time we take our relationship to the next, most intimate level!” chad pleads with liv, doing his best to convince her.

“yuck.” you add across from the happy couple.

“it’s fine, y/n. he only wants me to accept his ‘find my fam’ request.” liv explains to you, removing the expression of disgust from of your face.

“it’s the smartest option with a would-be killer on the loose. you know exactly where i am and i know exactly where you are.” chad continues, building up his case.

“aw, you can stalk me like a jealous boyfriend.” liv giggles.

“and you can stalk me like a jealous boyfriend.” chad jokes as you and mindy make eye contact, signalling to each other your repulsion towards chad and liv at that moment in time with just one look of your eyes. it’s funny how much two best friends can say in just a glance.

“is this because you two aren’t having sex yet?” amber bluntly asks, looking between the two of them.

“you actually bring up a very good point! not that i want to sound like a stereotypical jock, trying to get into his girlfriend’s pants-“

“great!” liv says, stopping chad.

“come on, wes, you get what i mean?” chad asks, trying unsuccessfully to get some back up, but you shoot wes a death stare, making him think carefully about his next words.

“absolutely not. i wouldn’t dare.” wes begins, clarifying that he doesn’t agree with chad to you before moving onto liv, “don’t do it, liv, there’s some pyscho out there. you make yourself harder to find. delete social media, tape over your phone camera, disable gps-“

“yes, thank you very much, edward snowden.” chad says, cutting wes off. “actually, your mother just interrogated me about tara’s attempted murder.”

“i’m sure she’s asking everybody, i mean, ghostface is back.” wes responds. a chill goes down your spine at the very mention of the masked murderer.

“she hasn’t asked me.” you chuck into conversation, noticing how the sheriff hadn’t even seemed to have looked your way yet.

“yeah, because you’re like sheriff riley’s adoptive son. plus, you and her went through the same thing.” liv says.

“ex sheriff riley.” mindy adds, “also, the press still isn’t saying ghostface.” and another chill.

“my mom doesn’t want to cause a panic.” wes explains.

“it’ll get out by the second or third killing.” mindy says, nonchalantly.

“mindy, come on.” you say. you loved her, but her insensitivity could be an issue on occasion.

“jesus, mindy, there wasn’t a first killing. tara’s still alive.” amber says, slightly angry.

“that means she could still die.”

“what the fuck?” amber is progressively getting more and more agitated at this conversation, you note.

“or the killer could come back for her.”

“fuck, mindy!” chad says as you screw your face up, “come on.”

“i’m just telling you, arm up, okay? pepper spray, check, taser, check-“ wes lists off his weapons.

“y/n in the bedroom repellent, check.” amber cuts in, laughing at him.

“again, ew.” you say, turning away from amber to wes, “i’m glad you’re keeping yourself safe.” you smile at your boyfriend.

“keeping us safe.” he says, pulling you into his arms.

“oh, shit, is that… vince?” liv asks.

“wait. that creep you hooked up with last summer?” chad asks liv, concern immediately showing on his face.

“yeah, he worked with me and tara.”

“he worked with tara?” amber asks inquisitively.

“he’s been stalking my instagram the last couple weeks, posting the creepiest shit.” liv adds.

“probably time to introduce him to hobbs and shaw.” chad says, flexing his biceps.

liv puts his arm down to his side. “maybe not the best idea to incite violence right in front of the sheriff. looks like he’s leaving.”

“plus, i don’t think ‘hobbs and shaw’ are scaring anyone with names like that.” you say, laughing at chad.

“oh, please. you’d love to take hobbs and shaw for a spin.” chad retorts, smiling back at you.

“tara says she fought back hard. you’ve got bruises.” amber states, observing chad’s somewhat battered and blue arms.

“from football practice.” he says, defending himself.

“oh, sure-“

“tara’s awake! she just texted.” wes says, his face lighting up. “i’m going to the hospital, you guys coming?”

mutters of ‘yes’ and ‘sure’ are said by your friends, but what stands out is liv saying: “i can’t, but i’ll meet you guys later.” another thing to take mental note of.

“alright, i’ll see you later.” chad says, kissing liv on the cheek goodbye. you wait up for chad as wes, mindy, and amber walk on ahead and descend into playful conversation him.

you were all gathered in tara’s room at the hospital, with wes’ arm draped around your neck as you sit on the chair right beside tara’s bed. amber stands over you with a very concerned look on her face as the twins make small talk on the other side of the room.

the door opens, and everyone looks to it. sam. sam and- who?

“you came.” tara says with a small smile.

“of course i came.” sam says, giving her sister a very gentle and light hug. “this is my boyfriend, richie.”

that explains who the random guy is.

“it’s so nice to meet you, i’m so sorry if i’m intruding.” richie says to tara.

“nice to meet you too.”

“hi. thank you for calling.” sam says, giving wes a hug.

“of course.”

“look at your hair! i like it.” sam compliments, ruffling your boyfriend’s hair like she’s his mother.

you get up and embrace sam. god, you’d missed her. even though she had her own shit going on, she never failed to be the big sister you wish you had - a loving, protective figure. not jill.

“these are chad and mindy, the twins, wes, and y/n. i used to babysit them all.”

“which is always how i like to be introduced.” wes says, to which you let out a slight laugh.

“and amber.” sam finishes her introductions, locking eyes with the dark haired girl. “hey.”

“hi.” you can feel the tension radiating between them. they do not like each other at all. “nice to see you.”

“hi, um, i’m richie.” richie says, amber looking him up and down. you weren’t too sure if you liked the guy either, seemed a bit fidgety. maybe just nerves, with ghostface going around and all.

“hi.” amber says.

“where’s mom?” sam asks tara, a worried expression crossing her face.

“she’s stuck in a conference in london. she called me earlier.”

“yeah, for all of ten minutes.” amber adds with a judgemental tone to her words.

you look over at tara, who looks tired out of her mind, probably from the painkillers. as someone who had been in a similar position, you knew that it’d be best to make an exit right about now. not only that, the reality of the situation was starting to kick in now. how were you all going to navigate this and stay safe?

“guys, maybe we should give tara a little space. getting a bit crowded in here.” you say, concerned for tara.

your friends respond with a chorus of ‘yeah’s, and you all begin to head for the door.

“not you, sam. i want you to stay.”

“okay.” sam says, sweetly smiling at her sister before sitting herself back down.

“but the rest-“ chad says, looking back to you, mindy, and wes affirming that you guys should go.

you all walk outside of the hospital, and it’s really starting to hit you now. this couldn’t be happening again. you couldn’t lose anyone else to some stupid fucking legacy. to ghostface. you lost your mother, your aunt, and even your sister - all because a pair of stupid, deranged, psychopathic men picked up some halloween mask in 1996. it wasn’t fair.

you start to walk slightly ahead of the group, with none of their conversation registering in your mind. tears start to form in your eyes as you hear them calling out your name. this isn’t fair. you don’t deserve this. tara doesn’t deserve this. nobody deserves this.

you’re brought out of your trance when you feel mindy’s hand touch your shoulder as she walks in front of you.

“hey, you good?” she asks, but sees the tears in your eyes. you shake your head, and she turns to the boys and amber. “we’ll just see you guys at the bar later, okay?”

“you sure? i can stay.” wes says, but you turn around to speak to them.

“no, it’s fine. i’m fine. i’ll see you guys later.” you say, putting on your bravest face and best smile for them. you can tell they’re not quite buying it, but they know mindy’s got you so they keep walking. you see chad turn back multiple times to check on you again, and can tell amber and wes are already bickering again by the time they get in the car.

when they’re gone, it’s just you and mindy sitting against a tree.

“mindy, i don’t think i can do this again.” you say, sighing.

“it’s fine. we’ve got you. me, wes, chad, amber, and i guess liv have got your’s and tara’s backs. we’re here for whatever you need. especially me. you’re my best friend, y/n. nothing is more important to me than your well-being. got it?”

“i love you, minds. you’re the best.”

“i love you too, y/n. and remember, we understand if you need space, support, anything right now. sam’s got tara, and we’ve got you. okay?”

“thanks.” you say, a real smile making its way onto your face.

“anyways, i need to go show chad that i still am the king of eight ball. you coming?” mindy says, getting up and sticking her hand out to you.

“i wouldn’t dare to miss chad getting his ass handed to him.” you laugh, letting mindy pull you up as you head to the car.

maybe it wasn’t so bad. it was cheesy, but maybe with your friends by your side you’d get through this again. maybe.

a/n: hope you all enjoyed! have a couple parts already in the drafts for this so shouldn’t be too long till the next is posted !! thanks for reading 🫶

[wesleyswrld]

The Beginning

Samantha Carpenter sighed in frustration as she wiped off blood off her boyfriend's knuckles for the second time that week.

"Donnie, you have to stop going this. It's scaring me."

The young teens where in the kitchen of a beautiful two story home in Woodsboro. Donnie was seated at the oak table, with Sam standing over him.

"I'm sorry." Donnie apologized, he completely didn't mean it. He'd go to war for Sam, anybody so well as looked at her to long or god for bid said anything about her was in a world of horror.

Sam finished cleaning his wounds and wrapped them up. "Yeah?"

Donnie began to nod, but Sam gave him a "Really" face and he shook his head.

He stood up to his full height of 5'10, and gave her a kiss. "I will protect you at all costs, Sam. I love you."

"Sometimes you can protect me without hurting anyone."

-

Three years later.

"You remember when I told you you can protect me without hurting anyone Donnie? This is one of those times that could have worked!" Sam shouted at Donnie.

Donnie rolled his eyes, as officer Judy Hicks put him in hand cuffs.

He had beat up at guy who thought it was a great, brilliant idea to slap Sam after she stole his wallet.

Donnie didn't even know why he wanted it back there was only 10 bucks in there.

The guy was out cold with a busted lip and an unrecognizable face on the parking lot ground of the local theater.

"He had it coming Sam, I couldn't fix that with fucking words!" Donnie shouted back as officer Judy sat him in the police car.

"This is officer Judy requesting a ambulance to the south side of the parking lot at 100 Meijer drive. We have a unconscious male and a domestic disturbance."

Sam signed rubbing her hands down her face. "Jesus, And. You're so fucking-"

"What, Sam?! I'm so fucking what?" Donnie stood up in anger, getting out of the car.

"Sit down, Clark!" Officer Judy shouted, standing in front of the two.

Donnie groaned but complied, sitting back down in the police car.

Donnie was beyond pissed with Sam he didn't understand why she couldn't realize he had to protect her.

He couldn't save his little sister so he had to save her.

Officer Judy turned to Sam. "Get in the car, Sam, I don't want to see you again."

Sam rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I'm not leaving him with you!"

Officer Judy walked towards Sam with her hands on her hips. "Do you want me to arrest you too?"

"Go Sam, I'm fine." Donnie sighed telling the brunette.

Sam nodded at turned walking towards her car. She got in and looked at Donnie one more time before putting the car in drive and leaving the parking lot.

-

Five Years Later.

"I'm really surprised mom let you watch me." Tara Carpenter told the Clark boy. The two where eating dinner at her house.

Donnie laughed, shrugging. "What can I say Little? I've had a change of heart."

Tara laughed remembering Donnie's teenage behavior turning for the worst.

Tara's mother Christina was at a conference in London and asked Donnie to look out for Tara.

Donnie of course agreed and moved in with Tara till her mother came back, Tara was just as excited to hangout with Donnie and didn't mind a babysitter.

Donnie had made his famous gourmet Mac and cheese which was just Italian seasoning added.

"Amber has a crush on you."

Donnie choked on his drink. "Oh, for real?"

"Yeah, she said she thinks you have a big di-"

Donnie unfortunately choked again in shock of how crazy kids were these days. "Woah, woah, woah, chill."

Tara shrugged. "Her words not mine."

"Do you miss her?" She asked Donnie, her older sister Samantha had left 5 years ago without saying goodbye to anyone.

Donnie sighed, "I miss her everyday. I wish I was better to her."

Tara nodded. "Yeah, you were a bit of an asshole."

"Yeah, I hope she's happier now."

"Me too."

-

After dinner Tara persuaded Donnie into going to the store to get chocolate chip cookie dough.

Donnie grabbed the store bag and closed the door to his Dodge Charger, he walked to the house door and went to unlock it with his key. Only to find it unlocked.

"Huh?" Donnie just assumed he just thought he locked it before he left.

He opened the door to see Tara laying in her own blood.

"Tara!" Donnie immediately went to Tara and dropped to his knees.

"What the f-fuck. Little, hey." Donnie put one of his hand on her wounded side, trying to stop the bleeding.

"D-Don it hurts." Tara cried, trying to push his hand away.

"Tara, you have to let me put pressure on it." Donnie fumbled with his phone dialing 911.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Hi, yeah my friend was attacked, her leg is broken, she has a hole in her hand and multiple puncture wounds."

"Is she conscious?"

"Yes, p-please send a ambulance she's in a lot of pain."

"I will send officers and an ambulance. What's the address?"

"Uhh, 809 Wood Ave. please hurry."

-

"Donnie?" Tara moaned as she came too. She sat up grabbing a glass of water on the tray next to her.

Donnie took his headphones out and put his phone down. "Hey. H-How are you?"

Tara gave him a sad smile. "Still in pain."

Donnie kisses her forehead, and moved a piece of her hair out of her face. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

He let out a choked sob. "It's all my fault I should have been there."

Tara shook her head. "Donnie, you had no idea that was going to happen. It is not your fault."

"I'm sorry, little." Donnie laid next to Tara in the small hospital bed.

Tara laid her head on his shoulder. "I know, I love you."

-

Wes Hicks

She's awake.

Leaving school now.

[theres-a-body-here]

666 days around the world

Chapter 1: Paradise visited

Satan didn’t know what to expect when he arrived on Earth. It’s been so long since he last visited. He was almost certain the humans had already wiped each other out.

He was pleasantly surprised when they were alive and…… Well, their being alive was the most important thing Satan was concerned with. He left the major cities and traveled out to a desert. He enjoyed the boiling heat.

Satan perched on a large boulder as he looked onto the horizon as he took in the beautiful sight of the landscape. Earth was pretty quiet compared to Hell, or at least his layer. Satan took in a deep breath, enjoying the warm, dry air.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Suddenly said a soft voice from behind Satan. Satan let out a yelp as he twisted around. Jesus sat on the boulder behind Satan as if he was always there, comfortable and serene.

“Leave me be” Satan demanded, annoyed that he hadn’t noticed the Son of God sneaking up on him. He turned away without waiting for an answer as he continued to stare at the landscape.

“You know the deal, Lucifer,” Jesus said calmly. “You get to visit Earth as long as I keep an eye on you. Father’s orders”

Satan grits his teeth. “I’m not your responsibility, I don’t need a babysitter,” He spat out angrily.

The carpenter simply looked at him with that faint smile he always wears.

Satan hated it. He hated how Jesus was always looking at him with those eyes. So soft, so understanding. He hated it. He wanted to wipe it off his face. He hated how his voice is always so soothing and calm, it made him sick. He hated it. He hated it.

Satan felt himself shrink as he had his internal tantrum. Jesus watched in pity as Satan unconsciously took the form of a young androgynous child.

“Fine, stay. I don’t care,” Huffed Satan in their now higher-pitched tone. Their child arms crossed over their chest.

Jesus watched as Satan brooded. He felt bad for the fallen angel and would’ve liked to leave them alone on their vacation, but God’s orders were absolute.

“How long were you planning to stay this time around?” Asked Jesus Softly, snapping Satan out of their mood.

Satan pondered for a moment

“Maybe a week or so,” They shrugged.

Jesus stayed quiet for a moment before speaking. “Well, let’s get to it then. Where do you want to go first?”

“…”

“…”

“I wish to see a lake”

[eyesteeth]

what’s the most impactful line from the silt verses to you? long ramble-y context, if there’s any. also need to know if there’s a separate answer for dialogue and narration

ohhhh gods n golly that's a doozy. i'm gonna say "this is how it begins" from s1e6, the silt sibs flashback episode. its use of repetition (and also lack thereof) is really good and it lives in my brain. like, you'd expect that it gets used for all three stories. mason uses it, carpenter uses it, faulkner uses it, done.

except carpenter doesn't start her dialogue with that phrase. she starts out with "i'm eighteen years old" and she leaves beginning out of it. it's almost implied, in a way ("this is how it begins - i'm eighteen years old") but she doesn't say it. this is not some theatrical story to her, it's real lived events.

faulkner, on the other hand, uses the phrase twice. this is a story to him, a story of how the great prophet went off on a pilgrimage and succeeded. he's abstracting himself from it all by doing this - him being so wracked with despair by being abandoned that he literally falls to the floor and stays there until he falls asleep is reconstructed as a drama.

this parallels really well with the maiden story i think. it is portrayed as a good thing (the husband was remade, the bride doesn't have to marry him) but it is not. it's horror reconstructed as love, comparable to how faulkner views the faith in a sense - he's overlooking all the violence because the church loves him until he realizes at the end of s1 that he can't get over the violence, and realizes at the end of s2 that the church doesn't love him. he's kind of like if the bride instantly regretted everything the second her feet hit the water. it's just up in the air whether or not he can get out of the water fast enough to not have his story end in tragedy too.

(jesus fucking christ do i have thoughts about the faulkner/bride parallels.)

so while faulkner's at a sort of risk of a "bad ending" because he's been in storymode from the start by virtue of declaring "this is how it begins" (and therefore requiring a "this is how it ends") carpenter has rejected the story notion and faces these crises with the understanding that this is just how the fucked up world works. she did not put herself in a story, and so any "ending" she has will just be the kind normal people do, unless her begging to die useful has put her in martyrmode in which case, sorry mallory, the life style determines the death style. hope your tree dream shakes out fine.

i hope this makes sense. is this metaphor cogent? i think this might just be soup.

but then again on the other hand like two weeks ago i remembered that carpenter specifically called faulkner "brother" when she realized he was about to pin two murders on her and i literally started crying on the spot so. could also be that one LOL

[destinyc1020]

Can we get a little commotion and appreciation for Toms insane dancer body tonight. Like excuse moi sir what is that hotness. He has an insane posture and a perfect walk and man like how does Z gets any damn sleep I do not know. Like did they even rest in Atlanta or just like work and ?????? Phew that man is a workout in itself I’d be climbing him like a jungle gym. I keep seeing these TikToks of Tom walking, jumping around and playing golf and I’m like Jesus, Mary and Joseph and all his carpenter friends HOW did they manage to keep their chill factor sometimes! I’m thinking it had to be so hard cause if he’s looking fine lately even with his out of it TCR vibes playing Danny, coming off of Uncharted was seriously NEXT LEVEL for Thomas. He just rolled up there all jacked and ready to steal back a heart for good LOL. That’s some BDE game over type shit. I fear the next sequel film in that Sony series might break the fans fapping souls to be completely honest. You know he’s gonna go full demon and just rip more henleys so he can stare back into a camera during press and give that wicked half smirk when people comment about him being ripped and about his ‘muscles’ hahahahaha.

WHEW!!!

I take it some of you all want "Thirst Hours" to begin I see lol... 🤣😏

But yea, Tom has amazing physicality. I can't wait to see him dance again onscreen. I haven't seen it since LSB 2017! 😭

Speaking of which....

[giraffeonstrike]

In gearing up for a career change, I've been considering what my passions are and I've been a little stuck. It's an odd thing to go back and think about at my age...not that we don't change a ton between 20 and 43, we absolutely do and that's a good thing, but to really sit and take a good look at what moves you is typically a thing that younger people do before they start their careers and to a degree their minds and attitudes are better suited for self reflection and exploration.

When I was a teenager ten thousand years ago, my father decided we were going to build houses with Habitat for Humanity. He liked building stuff, I also liked it, people needed houses...simple. It was about a year into that when a guy we worked with asked me if I wanted to come work with him in his shop building cabinets and furniture. People were ordering things for Christmas, it was just him and one other guy, they needed help. So I went and worked with him, he taught me a lot, and it was hard but very fun so I'm 17 and have decided this is what I want to do.

I tell my father and he's confused. A carpenter? Really? No, no...you have to go to college. He didn't come all this way for his son to do manual labor.

I remember asking him "so it's good enough for Jesus but I can't do it?" which he was silent about for a while. No good reason, it's just not what he envisioned for me and eventually I gave up. Went to college, had a variety of jobs that were fine until I ended up here in the job I have now. I've sold cars, I put my own schooling on hold for some years to put my ex wife through school when her parents cut her off, doing the highest paying thing I could do with my skillset (talking) and an unfinished degree...being shipped around the country selling software. I can't even tell you what that was like, it was so mentally taxing and I was just always going.

But I did learn something incredibly valuable, which leads me to my really drawn out point. Frequently there were language and access barriers that prevented me from being able to close deals. You can't sell English language only software (of which there are almost none now but this was long time ago) to schools with strong ESL programs. They need a Spanish option...huge roadblock in southern California, the southwest, and south Texas. We had very little for special needs schools.

There were always handouts but frequently there were no actual people or departments that dealt with the care and management of special needs students. A secretary would hand me something and then disappear. I would never get a feel of what their needs were and if I ever asked they couldn't tell me.

When I came to work at my branch, that still bothered me. What bothered me even more is that I was coming up against the same problem. We had no audiobooks, no books in braille, no bilingual staff, only English language books, no one knew sign language but me. A library should be a place where anyone can go to get the information and enrichment that they need to learn and thrive. It's better now, but lack of funding has always been an issue and we never have been able to get to where I'd like us to be.

I'm 43 years old and realizing that my real passion is accessibility. Ease of use. Making what is difficult less so in whatever way possible. There are so many apps and programs now that hit that mark, but in talking to people who would know I've found out that the human element is lacking. For better or worse we are social creatures and sometimes you just want another person there to guide you.

I will formally resign my position soon, when I can set some things in motion to ensure that my assistant, Angela, will be asked to take over for me. I love my branch, I believe in it, and she's the only one I know who loves it like I do and will make it stronger. We're the only two who know, she's asked me if I'll still do storytime and I'm just delighted that she'd keep me for such an important job.

This is going to be a big year.

[kaleb-is-definitely-sane]

Hi!!! 👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻

For our first official interaction as mutuals, I would just like to say a few things:

Your URL is a truly magnificent reference (I see you, you Hamilton fan, you)

You seem like a total sweetheart

I look forward to being friends and to our adventures as mutuals!!

Also, just to get to know you a little better: could I please ask you questions 1, 17, and 23 from the person questions??

Anyway, I hope you’re doing well, and here’s to the beginning of our adventures as moots!! 🖤🖤🖤

Hi!!! 👋🏿👋🏿👋🏿

Thank you for saying all those nice things ♥️. Yes I love Hamilton 🌟. When it first came out i was like “Nah, this looks boring” but on Halloween 3 years ago my aunt put it on and I was the only one who stayed awake 😂. And i cried so many times. This is one of the few movies to do this to me.

Thank you for thinking i’m a sweetheart; you are too 💕 💖 and I can’t wait to talk to you and bother you all the time like the best mutuals do (always feel free to “bother” me; im almost always bored). Also: I have an emoji addiction (just ask @princess-paramour 😂) which I’m sure you can already tell.

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?: We All Need Jesus by Danny Gokey ft Koryn Hawthorn; Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter; Perfectly Loved by Rachel (idr her last name) Personal by HRVY; Love Me Like I am by idr (😂); and the Hamilton Soundtrack

17: What was the last lie you told? I don’t remember but knowing me it was probably “I’m fine” or “I’m doing nothing” or “I can’t remember”

23: How do you vent your anger? I go to my room, close the door and talk to myself. I pace around talking to the walls/myself/God and then I read a book, listen to a podcast (currently: The Newest Olympian and Popcorn Culture) and talk to my moots ♥️

Thx for all the questions, hope you doing great, and until next time 🥂

[riszellira]

Reflection: A Promise Like No Other

The crowds that earlier on were looking for Him after being fed were now singing a different tune. Things were fine while the Lord talked about the Father giving them true bread from heaven. But their true nature as whiners showed up as soon as the Lord uttered the “I” sentence: “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.”

Having been in leadership for a great deal of my years as a priest, I know a little about our human tendency to be murmurers. I am neither playing hero nor saint here, as I, too, did my own share of complaining. Don’t we all?

But today’s whiners (referred to earlier as the “crowd” but now called the “Jews”) were in the mood to act out, reminiscent of the Jews who lamented about having only manna and not much else to eat out in the desert.

Today’s Gospel passage would have us see the same complaining nature but for different reasons. But whatever the reason is, it is no different from the reasons proffered by some disgruntled Catholics who claim to have left the Church because of reasons like: “I do not feel welcome in the Catholic Church.” “There is no personal touch.” “I know the parish priest. I know his parents too.” “The priest is sinful too.” “The singing is lousy.” “There are too many hard teachings that are even harder to follow.”

I hear you, friends. The Church hears you. I can actually add more reasons and things to complain about. This Church that I love has made (and still makes) me suffer. Go ahead and complain. Cry about it. Pray over it and on account of it. But today’s Gospel gives us something that cannot be surpassed and overcome by all those complaints put together. So you agree with those who say Jesus is nothing but a lowly Nazarean, and that He is just a son of a carpenter?

I choose to hold on to these words: “I am the living Bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever.”

~Fr. Chito Dimaranan, SDB

What complaints do you have about our Church? What are you doing about it? Hold on to Jesus’ promise—go to Him and He will satisfy all your questionings.

I believe You, Lord, when You say You are the living Bread. Whatever happens, I hold on to Your promise. Amen.

Prayer

… for a deep and profound respect for life, especially for the unborn.

… for the strength and healing of the sick.

… for the healing and peace of all families.

Finally, we pray for one another, for those who have asked our prayers and for those who need our prayers the most.

GOD BLESS!