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#twist my balls why don't you
carcharadroid · 10 months
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OH COME ON,
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sarah-sandwich-writes · 8 months
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HOLD ON WAIT UP HOLD THE PHONE
I KNOW I WAS GONE FOR A FEW MONTHS THERE BUT HAS BLUE LIKE DON'T FORGET ABOUT ME ALWAYS BEEN A PART OF A SERIES OR IS THAT A NEW DEVELOPMENT???
I FEEL LIKE ITS CHRISTMAS ALL OVER AGAIN FUCK Y E A H
Okay so
I...
have been cooking
by which I mean illusions of grandeur and
schemes
And I have not been forthcoming lol Everyone kind of disappeared all at the same time so I kind of stopped talking about what I'm doing but I have been biding my time, quietly putting mechanisms into motion and plotting and occasionally cackling over my cauldron.
I finished the first draft of Blue like don't forget about me and didn't like it so I cut out all the sci-fi fantasy stuff (bye bye aliens farewell superpowers) and in November wrote a new first draft that's all contemporary romance babeee and I'm so in love with it I'm turning it into a little 3-part (possibly 4 if I can't control myself) series.
The original childhood years have been split off into a prequel novella called Red like my bleeding heart in your hand. Then Blue like don't forget about me will take place 20 years later. Nash works at Cherished Hope Nursing Home
“And what is it you do? At the nursing home, I mean.” I wipe shit off of old people. And Teddy’s a hockey player. What’s Luke, an underwear model? He shouldn’t have come.
Teddy comes back to town for a funeral and
Teddy looks at him for the first time in twenty years and every ounce of warmth leaves his expression. Message received. He should not have come.
OKAY SO AND THEN the next book will be Jo's POV and is called Violet like these delights. and MAYBE there will be a 4th from Luke's POV bc he gets to live this time by the grace of god (me) but it'll depend on how Violet goes (its current state is mostly vibes and a single overarching theme so, stand by).
Red needs a clean-up round of edits to snip out the few little threads that connected it to OG blue. And rewritten blue is basically done. I've done the major revisions and am about to start line edits and after those are done I'm sending it out to beta readers (lmk if you're interested).
There are concise actual summaries in my pinned post btw lol
WHICH REMINDS ME
The series title is Wildflowers of Deliverance. Which I'm extremely proud of. Did you notice did you notice how each title incorporates a wildflower did you did you? and the town they grew up in where Nash and Teddy first met is called Deliverance!!! It's okay I know I'm a genius.
And this brings us to the meal okay? because like I said I've been Cooking™ quietly but steadily for a few months now. ANd what have I been cooking? PLOTS and PLANS
I've decided on a pen name: Sarah B. Elisa
I've created a(nother) side blog for it that will be exclusively centered on my og writing and geared more toward readers rather than writers like this blog is: @sarahbe-writing
I'm going to create a website (as soon as I convince myself to spend money)
and a newsletter (as soon as I convince myself to spend money and do work)
I'm still waffling between trad publishing and DIY. I really like all my hats and it would be a shame to have to share them but oh my god I don't want to do all the marketing but trad pub seems hit or miss on how well they market you so I might get half of my hats taken away and still have to do the marketing bullshit UGH
anyway
OH YEAH and the OG draft I wrote for Blue? I'm going to spin it back to its OG OG roots [parkner, naturally--Return of The childhood friends to estranged almost lovers to super-powered rivals to reluctant allies to friends to lovers finally wip!!! AKA: We Were Gods (we were kids)] and that will fix all the things that went wrong and I didn't like 😌 so it's basically like double Christmas I think
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skyrigel · 4 months
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Hi! I love all of your writing, could please do Benedict and best friend reader at a ball and he over hears some girls bullying reader and goes OFF and reader runs off and he thinks he’s embarrassed her but when he finds her she explains she found it super hot and then some smut please! 💖
You are in love 1 || B.B
Part 2 of " you are in love"
Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader, + Polin
Warning: fem! reader, no description of reader, friendly flirting and teasing, mutual pinning, use of inappropriate words, reader has a step sister. Fluff and angst, part 1 of you are in love. Part : 2 will be smut
Rigel's note 🪩: Thank you for requesting, and the compliment<3333 *smooches* I hope you don't mind me doing it in two parts :) the title is taken from Taylor Swift's song " you are in love", it popped as soon as I read best friend reader, hope it's not as bad as it's in my head, sending love back, also part 2 soon.
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" Perks of being a woman, you don't have to dance with Eloise bridgerton." You remarked when it was the fifth time Eloise stepped on lord White's toe.
Benedict snorted on his lemonade as he looked at you sideways, his iconic lop sided grin plastered to his smug face.
" I was her dance partner, " Benedict fake sniffed, wiping the fake tear, ", that too, before she started lessons."
You winced at the idea of Eloise before her lesson and gave Benedict a pat on his back for being ever the sacrifice.
" I thought that's why you danced wierd " you told him, smiling when he looked at you scandalously.
" Excuse me ?! " He narrowed his eyes, " you take that back ! " He slammed the glass down with force.
" Will not, you dance like...like a snowman ! " You beamed, slamming your fan down and glaring back, nose to nose, eye to eye.
" That never stopped you from dancing with me." He said smugly and retreated to his space with a satisfied look in his eyes when your jaw slacked slightly.
" You don't dance like a snowman with me." you told him in a small voice and that's when it hit you how gracefully he twirled you around when he was practically running away from other beautiful young ladies.
Benedict smiled, his eyes twinkling at you as he raised his brow, like in a question.
" And why would you think that ? " His mouth twisted and you didn't know what to say.
" Perhaps because I dance well...? " You tried and despite it being not the answer he expected, he laughed all the same.
" You dance like a ... a Kangaroo." Benedict thought hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched, he smiled proudly when he got the right word to annoy you.
" What's a kangaroo ? " You asked, you had heard it somewhere but it was easier to ask him than think hard.
" It's like..." Benedict motioned with his hands something like a vase," it's a cute animal." He finally said when nothing more could be made out from his gestures.
"Oh." You nodded and then it hit you, " Did you just call me an ANIMAL ?! " You snarled at him and he shaked his head with a chuckle.
" I called you cute too." He squabbled.
" Kangaroo's aren't cute ! " You jabbed at him and he chuckled, grabbing your wrist firmly, a spark so bright jolted inside you and you felt your face grow hot.
" Then I don't dance like a snowman—" you sticked your tongue out at him and he was lost in words, just looking, you saw the opportunity and yanked your hand away from his grip. He relented like a gentleman.
" You are always like..like running away and leaning off while dancing and it's so so snowman like." You argued and Benedict's eyes twinkled like moon.
" Have you seen a snowman waltzing ? " Benedict asked and you shaked your head, while clutching at your chest, you couldn't help the giggling.
" Yes if we are talking about a tall, handsome and smug snowman."
" You think I am handsome ? " Benedict ducked his head closer to your face and you felt your breath hitching in your throat, like air was punched out of your chest.
You rolled your eyes when it became too apparent that no word would come out of your traitorous throat and you couldn't help but gaze back at him, he looked back just the same, all fire and blaze.
" You didn't answer my question." He said slowly, each word carefully and it squeezed your heart how close his face was, how beautiful those eyes were, and that nose, and those cheeks, those lines when he smiled, he oftened and it was so warm and gorgeous, how you never noticed how captivating he was, every atom of his body was tied with an invisible thread with yours, a golden one. And you would be damned to think of that mouth, your lips parted at the ethereal site and Benedict smiled at that.
" No." You just said it, eager to say anything and break this moment, it was swirling you around in a storm.
" No ? " He questioned, frowning and he was handsome at that too, you were so doomed.
" You are silly like handsome, like some lord Byron poetry." you murmured softly, safe guarding the hammering heart in your chest and blinking at the sudden burn from his gaze on you, drinking you in, his brow knitted in funny way, a mock annoyance crossed his face.
" Lord Byron ?! Really, " he dropped back to his seat and you finally took a breath, then he covered his face like a damsel in distress and when he glanced sideways at you, he was smiling his brightest, oh, you just realised how goofy and precious and mesmerizing his smile was, you wished to stop time and paint it under your lids so everytime you close your eyes, you could meet him there, in your secret gardens and then a death like that would be sweeter.
" What ? " You exasperated when he refused to look away, even when your nose wrinkled and face basked in it's warmth, he wouldn't let go of you, taking each and every detail in like he was wishing to stop time too and paint you. He could, he was an artist.
" You called me poetry..." His mouth quirked up in a delightful grin, like it explained all the merry and you groaned, looking away as you huffed the tingling in your body that wouldn't go, your eyes landed on a very eventful moment.
" Is that our Colin ? " You raised your brow at Benedict who sat up straighter and turned his gaze to the other side of the hall.
" Why is he eye murdering lord Debling ? " You asked him, he winked and pulled your chair closer, not caring if any mama saw or perhaps lady whistledown herself.
" Penelope is dancing with lord Debling, and well she's laughing at something too, oh—" Benedict whispered in the shell of your ear and you barely nodded, Colin looked like he had enough, he was making his way through the crowd towards Pen.
" Forty shillings if he punches lord Debling." You piped up, Benedict shaked his head.
" You are gonna lose cupcake, he's gonna take Miss Featherington's hand and—" you gasped when Colin stopped abruptly, said something urgently and took Penelope's wrist between his hand, Benedict cocked his head to his side and winked smugly.
" And ? " You drawled and it amused Benedict beyond limits, like he has been waiting for it.
" Birds and bees." He said in a code like hushed whisper, you smacked the back of his head.
" I don't have a mother, you know." You told Benedict and he touched his upper lip with the tip of his pink tongue, he nodded along knowingly.
" Well, someone's gotta teach you."
" Mm.. you are my best friend." You would look anywhere but at him but your eye's were locked in his, he was being brave then so can you. One step, not much.
" I can not tell you birds and bee." Benedict said sincerely.
" Colin helped Pen ! " You said, nose flaring as he worried his jaw but didn't say anything.
" He told her how kids are made, something like going to a farm and then...well he kissed her but that's not the point." You blurted in a whisper, he listened intently.
" He kissed her already ? "
" Well a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell but a lady can, but that's not the point! " You pouted, his resistance crumbled but then again, bloody bridgerton.
" That's not my place cupcake." He was breathing hard, his mouth would open and snap close again, taking back all the things left unsaid.
" Well then—" you hated how choked your voice got, you tried, didn't you, it's not like you left it on god's cue, this was the biggest hint you could have given him and if he didn't got this, then only bricks might work.
Give him one more, a small voice said in your head, it was yours, but stronger and braver than you.
" —then you can tell me about love."
Benedict laughed on that, like it was the funniest thing you had said.
" You know what? I take it back, I am gonna ask someone—" you smoothed your skirt and began to get up when he pulled you down.
" Sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry, don't go leaving me stranded." He pleaded.
You looked at him hard, looking for any sign of humour and you found none, he was glittering when he clapped his tongue and opened his mouth, his soft tongue resting like a tired cat.
" Love," he began," is like music."
" Like music." You repeated, struggling with the fit laughter that shook your shoulders.
Benedict glanced at you offended but when he spoke next, it was how the poets said, with longing and desire, like bleeding for your beloved and when no blood was left then it was ink and parchment.
" You can hear it in the silence." He said, you remembered those afternoons when no word was said between you and your bestfriend and yet nothing was hidden and left unsaid.
" You can feel it on your way home." He said, penetrating his gaze in you eyes and he remembered damn well that night after he rescued you from the lake when you almost drowned, the terror of losing you, the spark of holding you closer than ever.
" You can see it with the light's out, it's so bright and golden." Everything is more beautiful with you Benedict, you told him one Sunny afternoon, basking under a tree while he read you poetry, Better than Byron.
" Loving that one person will make you love yourself, with them, you are enough." He was whispering now, chest heaving as his hand trembled and unknowingly yours found his under the table, locked eye's and joined hands and sacred whispered chants. It was enough.
" You aren't too much, or too little, or loud or boring, you don't have to be interesting or witty or anything, being youself with them is enough." I like myself with you, he had told you when you were sixteen.
" That's love, being safe with them is love, being their home is love, to be able to leave all shades behind and be naked in just body and soul and not being afraid, not being embarassed is love."
" Benedict..." Your voice was soft and sweet and it took him a moment to realise he was crying, when you gently wiped it's proof with your handkerchief.
" I...I will be back in a moment—" he stumbled out, still smiling a small smile and oh god what you have done, you have ruined him as well your self and nothing will ever be the same.
" Yes...." You said, because he was waiting for your approval, he nodded back when he got it and disappeared amongst the crowd as you watched him leave.
Love was indeed like music, the one you liked, it could be light as bee buzzing and sharp as thunder roaring in clouds, it could be slow and rhythmic and soft like water flowing, it could be the sound of his laughter and the way he drew his breath, it could be how he whined and joked and played and teased, for you, love was the music and muse of Benedict bridgerton and yes, you were very much doomed.
" What a pleasant site, a spinster smiling on her own, have you planned some scandalous plan of yours to bag some noble man ? " Claire wheezed in a duckling like laughter, shared with Asha Patil and Gissele Turner.
You refused to say anything, it only further added spice to their boring marital lives, with their husbands out and wombs empty.
" Would you look at her ? She's giving us that attitude, no wonder she's still unmarried ! " Scowled Asha, with her frizzy hair and crooked nose, her eyes coated in loathing of most tainted kind.
" She might had gotten the ring if she wasn't being Mr. Bridgerton's bitch." Gissele whispered it down to you and anger shot up through your veins and your eyes snapped to her, it didn't matter if she was your elder sister and the rage that blinded you was so fierce that you didn't feel when two big tears rolled down your cheek.
" Don't cry now, you can always be his mistress atleast." They all laughed, loud and big and white teeth flashing, with their fake diamond rings rubbing in your eyes but it was too blur, you saw nothing, you heard nothing, everything was drowning around you.
" Speaking of mistresses, Lord Hasting has bought a bigger estate for his mistress than your home in east London and I wouldn't blame him lady Hasting."
You can hear it in the silence.
It was your love's voice, it was your Benedict speaking and you lifted your mascara stained lashed eyes at him.
If you had known him less than you couldn't have known of the terrible anger that was shaking him, that smile was no ordinary, it was feral and stray, wanting to tear anyone who dared to come near, he was burning in anger that was beyond words.
Claire sizzled at that remark, turning her hand to her palm side and only moments ago she was flashing her ring and now, she was hiding it.
" Don't ruin your reputation by showing ungratefuls such as her your pity Mr. Bridgerton." It would've hurt less, were it Claire or Asha, but it was your own half sister, be it half blood but blood all the same.
" Lady Turner, i have no wish to speak to you, you have hurt my best friend beyond words, you had taken her affections for granted so if someone's ungrateful then it's sorely you, you don't deserve a sister like her, she's too good for all of us." He was carefully placing the word and his anger slipped between, his teeth grinded and breath hitched, you stared, just at him and him, everything was getting dimmer but you knew in that moment, you would know him in darkness.
you can feel it with the light's out.
He had done many things for you, Benedict stole Anthony's horse to take you out on a midnight ride, he nicked Colin's sword and taught you fencing, bought ribbons of your favourite pastel silk, saved your favourite sweets, and so many and so more, but this was something you couldn't have done yourself if you wanted, he had done it, he had stood up for you and it was the most gleaming moment of your life, he wasn't playing hero, he wasn't being mean, he was protecting your with your honour and Benedict, the gentleman who wouldn't hurt a fly, he was going to dagger them down with words alone.
He was speaking and speaking and they were all quiet, their eyes low and nose bowed down, he was speaking and speaking, words clear with pure affection and respect and then your felt it.
The warmness aroused in your womanhood and an inaudible gasp parted through your lips as you felt the slicky wet feeling caress your inner thigh and the sensation was so electrifying that you had to close your eyes in order to take a breath and even then, you could feel his words, soft and praising, " ......if you were half good as a woman she is....." He was breathless and he wasn't stopping and something inside you wanted to cup his face and tell him, don't Stop, never stop.
And then his eyes looked for you, he found your gaze and held it and you felt the shame, you couldn't do this to him, this burning desire would take you both down in flames and what it would be to become one, only in ashes, it was scaring you.
And before you could think of say anything, you were already on your feet, stumbling through the crowd with your gown kissing the floor behind you.
You didn't know where you were going but far, away and this feeling wouldn't let go, you knew well but you wanted air, the warmness that was spreading was maddening and the hunger was tugging under your skin.
He was calling out your name, you hated yourself but you needed to run, this love would ruin you, what if Benedict hated you if you told him how you felt, how you thought about him, would he call you a whore along with Gissele, would it hurt more ?
More than anything.
His voice turned to pleading as crowd thickened and you were getting out of his sight. You wouldn't look back, because if you did then you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from doing something very stupid.
You were out of the gates, descending down the stairs as one heel slipped out but you didn't care, you were on a run.
Johnny was already motioning the horses as you frantically climbed in, you could see Colin chasing down Penelope's carriage in a distance as you opened the window to inhale heavy gulps of air.
Would Benedict Chase you down too ? Would he come and look for you ? And if he did, what would you tell him ?
You are my best friend.
Part 2
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werecreature-addicted · 7 months
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Can you write more werewolf handjob stuff? Like squeezing his knot with your hands
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"Oh! fu-fuck s-slow down I can't-" he whimpers, resting his head on your shoulder. He's given up on pushing you away, any time he tried you squeezed his balls until his vision went blurry and he started apologizing and backtracking, now he just begs.
"Awe but you're doing so good for me, come on baby hold out a little longer I'll let you cum soon," you croon, you'd been telling him you'd let him cum soon for the last hour but this time you really meant it.
His red cock throbbed and twitched as you moved your hand up and down his length with a wet clicking sound, he'd leaked so much precum over your hand and his own cock that it was hard to keep a good grip without slipping- that's why you were gripping so tight, yeah that's the only reason.
You rub your thumb over his pointed tip, paying special attention to his piss slit, gathering more translucent precum before dragging your hand down to the base of his cock again. The werewolf's high-pitched keening drowned out the wet shucking sound of your hand going up and down.
"you should be thanking me, you're so lucky that I'm giving your pathetic cock any attention," you tease.
"t-thank you, thank you," he moans brokenly, before biting your shoulder hard, muffling the sounds of his moans.
With one hand you keep milking his cock, twisting your hand with every stroke, you use the other hand to wrap around the base of his cock squeezing his inflated knot. He howls in pleasure and cums instantly, his hot rope of cum shooting up and splattering you on the neck, His eyes roll back and he collapses, for a second you worry that he came so hard he passed out but then he speaks.
"d-don't let go, ke-keep holding my knot please," he whimpers, his hips thrusting weekly like he's instinctually trying to bury his knot deeper into your hand. you can't help but laugh. he was so cute when he was pathetic like this.
"fine fine, I'll hold your knot until it goes down, but you're going to have to clean my shirt after we're done, you got cum all over me," you tease.
He pushes up his thick-rimmed glasses and looks, his pupils blown wide with lust as he sees his cum staining you. He leaned in and reached out with his soft tongue to lick up his own seed.
"god you're so gross you freak!" you shriek, he just whimpers in agreement, still licking his release off of you. he'll be your freak, your loser, your anything, just as long as you keep your pretty hand on his knot.
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boxingcleverrr · 9 months
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Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.
Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.
But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.
The Abduction is The Thing.
Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.
Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.
It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.
I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!
It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.
"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.
And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.
They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.
Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.
That's how it went.
I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:
This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!
Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.
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2-dsimp · 5 months
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Hear me out... Yan priest with a non believer reader....like just imagine....Yan priest"you don't believe in heaven huh...then I'll take you to heaven...then continued to 💥 her....
Cw: 🔞NSFW MDNI🔞 Fem reader! Throatpie, coercion, corruption, dubcon, religious aspects, creampie, cum shower, slight humiliation, degradation, praise, overstimulation, Zebad turning you into a true believer
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—————/—————/—————-/————/———
Zebad sighs in contentment as he watches you collapse onto the altar, his wet slick and cum covered shaft slipping out of your overused cunt with a wet pop. He takes a moment to admire your body, feeling his own softening member hardening with avengeance as he sees the marks and bruises he so graciously bestowed upon your skin. Before he quickly flips you over, ripping off your top with a gentle smile.
"Mmm, my lost Dove~ did this prayer session help to enlighten you by chance?"
The Priest hums with a twisted expression on his face confronting the non believer gasping for breath within his holy sanctum. Right before the lords eyes of the marble statue which stood tall above them and judged with a solemn stare.
He reached out a hand to firmly grasp onto your hair, his rock hard cock hovering near your lips. While he smacks his meat against your face, before nudging the tip of his leaking fat tip against your lips smearing it with your collective love juices from prior rounds.
"Oh how precious you are my dear, your pretty head looks as if it’s all empty inside. Allow me to fill it with something meaningful"
The Priest coos lovingly before he shoves his penis into your mouth, forcing it down your throat. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't care. This was meant to teach you a lesson on how not to turn your back on the gracious blessings. That the lord could bestow to you if you’d just let your heart open fully to the wonders of the teachings he gives…
In all honesty Zebad was bullshitting about his preaching for a god he didn’t even have half a mind to remember the name of. He couldn’t care less about said god nor did he fathom entertaining the prestige beliefs of his pious church brethren. Why would he spend time trying to convert you into worshiping the lord when he could make you revere him as your sole savior.
"That's it, Love suck just like how we’ve practiced. Being such a good girl for me"
He purrs continuing to thrust into your mouth, his balls rubbing against your face as he uses you for his own pleasure. Grinning with satisfaction as he feels your fingers wrap around his thick length, your mouth still wrapped around it like a newborn. The corrupt holy official could feel his cock twitching with impatience, eager for your attention. He starts to buck his shaft inside your salivating mouth, relishing in the moist heat of your tongue sliding back and forth on his foreskin.
Yes, he’d make you utterly reliant on him for the rest of your days. Spend his sweet time training you, molding you into his perfect believer who’d only get on their knees and revere him as both your lover and guiding light to damnation. He alone would encompass the entirety of your mind, body, and soul.
"You’re gonna learn to accept me as your lover and savior and become an obedient bitch for me yes?"
Zebad coaxes with an sugarcoated timbre whilst he continues to rock his pelvis against your face, his body wracked with pleasure as he feels himself getting close to cumming again. He can ascertain how much your esophagus was tightening around his dick, making his balls twitch from the sensation. Of how he knows that you're so eager to please him.
"Oh what a delectable sheep you are, my darling~ so docile and compliant for me."
The Priest pants as he finally drives his shaft to the hilt, smacking his balls up against your drooling face. He lingers there for a moment, enjoying the tightness of your throat around him as you gag. He can feel his cum building up inside of him, and he knows that he's getting close to the edge.*
"Fuck, Dove, go on and take it! Take your lord and saviors cum like the good believer I know you are."
He starts to flood your taste buds with the peculiar taste of his gummy sperm, making you gag even more. The amount is too much for you to handle, so he spills the rest of his cum all over your tits and face in white beady rivulets. He grins with satisfaction as he watches his cum dripping down your body.
"Mmm, you look so beautiful covered in my cum perhaps I should make you walk around in it all day. And make it test of your faith towards me wouldn’t you say?”
Zebad goads, his voice low and seductive. Paired along with a devilish smile that was present on his face full of infatuation and obsession for his poor little sheep that wandered helplessly into his clutches.
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sceletaflores · 4 days
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woo, my baby's got me all mixed up!
feat. logan howlett & wade wilson contains. 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, swearing, a bastard doomed polycule, more of 'why have just one bf when you can two bf's and why have just two bf's when you can have two bf's that are also each other’s bf's???', p in v, double penetration, one (1) single use of daddy, creampie(s), fingering...kind of (fem!receiving), oral sex, face sitting, face fucking, straight up nasty porn w/ zero plot, no use of y/n. a/n. this is a shorter one-shot but i can't not format it like a full fic i have to or i'll get hives. this is also just pure freak nasty gross actually probably the filthiest thing i've ever written that i thought up off too much nyquil pm last night. kisses!
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"You're killing me babe," Wade groans lowly, cheek pressed to the slick skin of your inner thigh. "If my balls didn't feel like they just got the shit beat out of them in a back alley I'd be as hard as David Hasselhoff watching David Hasselhoff movies."
His hand is at work between your thighs, thick index finger slipped into your sensitive, puffy pussy.
It should gross you out that he loves doing this so much. It should make your stomach twist with all the unpleasant feelings a normal person might get.
It should, but it doesn't.
The familiar stretch is lost from taking Logan and Wade at the same time, a rare thing in your sex life because of how big they both are. But you were in a mood tonight.
Your pussy still clenches around him, trying in vain to tighten up, not used to feeling so empty.
The subtle pressure of Wade’s finger toes the line between pleasure and the sharp burn of 'almost too much' as it swirls along the sensitive walls of your pussy.
The first time he did it you were too fucked out of your mind to do anything other than ask what the hell he was doing.
"Gotta mix it up babe," was his reply, as easy as anything. "Don't want the baby batter to curdle, if you know what I mean."
Your heart stopped, flames lapping their way up your body as Wade scooped the thin line of come trickling from your abused hole to fuck it back in, back where it belonged.
It was so filthy, so depraved that it made you go liquid between your legs.
Your eyes almost immediately slid over to Logan, ready to see him shaking his head in irritation like he usually did whenever Wade ran his mouth in bed. You found nothing, no deep grimace or raised brow in sight.
There was an unmistakable heat in his gaze that matched your own, the inky black of his pupils blown so wide you could hardly see the hazel of his irises.
The casual raise of his right shoulder when he met your eye was undermined by the way his cock started to harden where it laid against his thigh, effectively tattling on him.
It told you all you needed to know about how he really felt watching Wade between your spread legs. That alone was enough to get you ready to go all over again.
It sort of became a thing after that.
"I'm not even doing anything..." you mumble breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't have to baby," Logan purrs from behind you, lips pressed to the top of your head. His hand skimming down the side of your body is enough to make goosebumps pebble along your skin, "Look perfect just like this."
It's been hours now, but they're still going. You're convinced that the two of them are the world's biggest horndogs, just once is never enough.
You lost track of tonight's rounds sometime after number five, not counting mouth and hand stuff of course. And it's starting to catch up to you, you’re tired, spent.
Wade curls his finger just right, brushing against the spot inside you that has a broken whine passing through your grit teeth. Your thighs start to tremble as a smug grin spreads across his face.
"Yeah, there it is," he teases, his voice low. He keeps the tip of his finger snug against that spot, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nerves. "That's that spot ain't it, gorgeous."
"Wade," you mewl, hands fisting the sheets as you fight to keep still. You're worried too much squirming will make their come start dripping out around Wade's wrist, and you can't have that.
There’s a sudden silence to your right, the heaviness of it pulling at your attention. You shift slightly, catching the faintest rustle of movement from Logan.
His breath is warm against the crown of your skill, his strong chest still plastered to your back—but he's too quiet, too still. You tilt your head just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye, and the sight alone is almost enough to make you come on the spot.
Logan is leaning against the headboard lazily, arm that isn't circled around your waist snaking down his own with the hard length of his cock in his hand.
Your mouth waters at the sight of him, red and leaking pre-come all over his knuckles each time he twists his fist over the thick head. Your hips grind down unconsciously, a needy moan falling from your parted lips. The wet sound of it has your cheeks burning, eyes fixed on the way his heavy balls bounce with each rough tug, still so full.
"Fuck, that's it," Wade murmurs, slipping a second finger inside you while he presses a shit-eating grin to the soft skin of your lower stomach. "You like it when daddy jerks off while I'm knuckle deep in you?"
"Watch it," Logan mutters warningly, tone gone low and dark as spilled ink. His hand doesn't slow, the loose grip of his fist slipping up and down his dripping cock in time with the slick squelch of your pussy.
Your hips buck up against Wade’s hand, a loud whine tearing from your chest at the dirtiness of this whole thing. The familiar heat starts to stir in your belly, your pussy drooling more mess over his wrist the longer he plays with you.
Wade barely muffles his chuckle against your hip, dropping a quick kiss there before pulling his soaked fingers from your velvety warmth. You whine at the loss, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.
You’ll both get what you want soon enough.
"Alright, we should all know the drill by now people," he announces to you and Logan with a loud clap, pulling away from between your thighs to roll flat onto his back.
“Time to hop on the saddle, John Wayne,” he finishes, giving your ass a loving tap.
Logan snorts into your hair, dropping his cock to grab your hips and gently manhandle you until you’re situated directly over Wade’s face while Logan kneels in front of you. The jut of his cock bobbing inches away from your mouth.
Wade’s greedy fingers pry your swollen lips apart to watch the way his and Logan’s come starts to seep out from you, falling to drip onto his bare chest. He blows over the wet length of you, the cool air from his mouth has your hips twitching down in search of any friction you can get.
“Not so fast,” he scolds lightly, grinding his knuckle against the wet seam of you. Your nails dig crescent moons into his scarred shoulders, threatening to break the skin.
“You’ve gotta savor this moment, hot stuff,” he says slowly, leaning up to press a kiss directly over your throbbing clit. “You got the best seat in the house, don’t take it for granted–”
"Enough," Logan grunts, heavy hands falling on your shoulders to push you down on Wade's face, fully closing the gap. "Quit runnin' your damn mouth and make our girl feel good, red."
Wade's hands tighten their hold on your thighs, his hips bucking up off the mattress like he can't help it. His surprised moan rumbles against your clit, loud and shameless.
You cry out at the first drag of his tongue over your aching pussy, hot and wet as it slides through your dripping slit. You pitch forward, too caught up in pleasure to think clearly as you take Logan’s cock into your mouth. You take him all the way down to the root in one swift move, burying your nose in the dark hair surrounding the base. 
"Fuck," Logan bites out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He takes your hair in his fist gently, just holding it as you swallow around him. 
Your hands move to rest on his thick thighs, nails scratching over the hair scattered along his skin. His breath shutters in his chest, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly, chasing the tight heat of your mouth.
The mix of your tongue tracing along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock and the low, wet sounds of Wade devouring you has him pulsing in your mouth.
Your thighs shake on either side of Wade's head, the steady grip of his hands the only thing that keeps you from collapsing into a boneless heap on the mattress.
Your hips twitch the tiniest bit, rocking forward enough to grind your clit over the slope of his nose. He groans under you, squeezing the meat of your thighs in encouragement as he swirls his tongue through the mess dripping from your hole.
“That’s a good girl,” Logan praises gruffly, his hips speeding up. “Shut him up, baby. Make him fuckin’ eat it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, dragging your pussy along Wade’s mouth faster. You moan desperately around your mouthful, brain going hazy around the edges.
The frantic pace you set only makes their come leak from you faster, dripping down Wade’s face faster than he can keep up, and there's just so much.
A steady, thick stream of it that feels almost never ending thanks to Logan coming like he busted a pipe and absolutely flooding your insides every single time.
Wade doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest though, swirling his tongue along you with a new sense of urgency. His hands grip your hips tighter, his blunt nails digging into your skin deliciously as he slurps and sucks with unbridled enthusiasm, chasing every drop of come.
He’s sloppy with it, come sliding down his cheeks and chin in thin rivers of white.
Logan’s rough breath hitches above you, his fingers tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks just the way he likes. His growl sends a thrill down your spine.
"C'mon, Wilson," Logan grunts, his hips speeding up. When you peer up at him, you can see the goading smile that just barely tugs the corner of his mouth up.
“Spitters are quitters, you know that."
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chahnniesroom · 5 months
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to have and to hold
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!
a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 
Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.
Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.
“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”
“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.
“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”
“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”
“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 
“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”
“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”
“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”
Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.
Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.
Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 
When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.
“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.
“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”
Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.
Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.
He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.
“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.
Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.
“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”
“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”
Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.
“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”
He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.
It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.
“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”
By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.
Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.
When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 
After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.
Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.
When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.
That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 
“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”
“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”
“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months
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i've had a horrid idea in my head, don't look at me! (maid!reader feat. soap & ghost)
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so basically
you get hired through the cleaning service that you work for, to help keep a house outside the city nice and clean. you are a bit confused why whoever hired you needed a maid who lived over two hours away. but, you were assured that it would be worth it and shuffled off.
you thankfully only had two go twice a week, mondays and wednesdays with your day off in the middle. the pay was above standard, pictures of the home were shown, along with profiles of the owners.
simon riley and john mactavish. they were army men who wouldn't be at the house as much as most customers. which was a relief. this was not however the case, as the more you spent coming over the house to clean, the more they seemed to be around.
the blond one with the face scars was simon and the burnette with the mohawk and the scottish accent was johnny (he made you call im johnny). it would taken several months before they made the first move.
it started with johnny brushing up against your backside while he was in nothing but pajama pants. his erection against you.
then the snowstorm happened. you were about the go home, determined to drive when the snow came down in heaps. the snowflakes were almost as big as a two pence coin.
you ended up staying, and johnny brought out the whisky! he told you it was the good stuff from the highlands as he served you a healthy glass. it still burned like a bastard when it went down, the disgusted face you made caused the other two men to laugh. when you tried to use the bathroom you heard simon's voice ring out, "oh, there she goes!". as the snow hit the ground outside, you got drunk with your customers.
which then resulted in coy kisses, followed by loud fucking in simon's room. it had the bigger bed but it didn't matter because your hands and knees ached by the of the night. as did the back of your throat (you couldn't talk the morning after) and your pussy (you sat in weird positions to ease the pain for a week after).
simon and johnny were bullies to you sexually. you were twisted like a pretzel as both men just fucked you without abandon. you were left gasping and it didn't help that it turned you on too! you were such a bad maid, but it was hard to believe yourself when both men grumbled your praises as they moved you once more to get at just the right angle.
you tried to give the appearance of keeping it professional, but when you ended up back at work your boss told you that simon and john needed more help before their deployment, so she had moved your customers to other maids.
your priority was to help those men anyway you could! "they're serving our country! they need as much as they can before they leave once more!"
it wouldn't take long before you pretty much moved your life into their home. when you called the resign from your job at the maid agency, johnny was between your legs while you were sitting on the kitchen counter. your free hand was in his mohawk, yanking on the strands. he had spent all morning encouraging you to quit your job, which mean being laid out behind you with his hand down the front of your panties. his calloused fingers rubbing your clit until you were practically yelping from the overstimulation!
one night when you were "helping them" simon was gone for several hours and came back with boxes of your stuff. everything was put in neatly, when you tried to ask why he simply said, "you can't be wearing our civvies forever." (as if the two men weren't going to buy you clothes or anything else you needed). but it was nice to have some stuff with you. you never asked how he got into the apartment though.
sometimes the boys will still play maid with you. johnny liked it when he got to push up the skirt of the maid's dress you were wearing and simon liked when he got to tear the garter under the skirt right off. johnny's cock was soon balls deep in your while simon licked your clit.
paycheck wasn't necessary anymore, not while you were living with them full time. living in the city was nice, you would always cherish your time in it! but it was a lot nicer being sandwiched between two burly men who would capture the sun and the moon and serve it to you on a silver platter. <3
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valentinaagarcia · 2 months
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twisted wonderland characters as things i've heard in the locker room
(im speaking in the boy locker rooms, im on the boys football team as a chick and i might be called a pick me for it but there was no girls football team💔)
(btw "yuu" is what i responded to what i heard)
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floyd: uhm.. you guys i might've ate raw salmon and i shit myself
ace: right now??
jamil: i fucking can't with you floyd, last week you made out with a boy and now you got fucking tapeworms or some shit
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kalim: sorry i'm late guys, how is everyone?
jamil: i'm gonna puch you so hard that your dick is gonna go up your throat and your gonna choke on your cock and die!
kalim: so glad i asked
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ace: some guys get off from other guys fingering their asses, who knows
yuu: what the fuck is the context to that?? i went to the toilet for TWO MINUTES
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yuu: well duh i have boobs? what the hell is wrong with y'all i'm not an actual dude
ace: i can tell you have boobs now, i'm looking right at them
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epel: okay i need to be honest with you all, i used to masterbate with motor oil
deuce: wait i used to do that too until my ex saw me when i was whacking off and tried to lit my dick on fire
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ruggie: come on guys we're gonna go play football! no teams
leona: pretty sure you need two teams to play football
jack: yeah that's the whole fucking point
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ace: i neehd.. the uh, the thing that you ball kick around
yuu: are you high?
ace: hi
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floyd: WHOOP WHOOP yeah us upperclassmen win another round!
jamil: did you even measure it?
floyd: yeah with my dick
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yuu : can you guys stop messing around for five minutes please? i'm trying to make us a plan
floyd: why u never match my freak
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kalim: yuu your a girl right?? this cute girl i've been talking to is so sweet and i wanna buy her something
yuu: not a car
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leona: remember when coach benched you because you were "too good"?
ruggie: yeah?
leona: he was lying, you fucking sucked
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floyd: okay everyone take off your shirts!
yuu: no thanks
ace: why not?
yuu: i'd rather not flash you all
ace: good call
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jade: i can't believe i have to perform infront of everyone..
floyd: just do the whip and you'll be fine
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epel: GUYS.. GUYS MY....... INNER EGOIST ARRGHH
jamil: we're not even playing right now???
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floyd: coach is such a boomerrr...
lilia: boomer? more like fossil
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ace: okay everyone important announcement, i have to make a powerpoint on sexual education so can i demonstrate on deuce infront of you all?
deuce: and you say your straight
epel: i don't think deuce likes the idea of public sex
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yuu: i just saw a pad stuck to the ceiling in the girls bathroom
floyd: did you lick it?
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justliketoreadsowhat · 3 months
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Delusion Of Jealousy ꨄ
✰ this was a request from my Wattpad I abandoned, but I thought it’d be fitting since I’m still stuck on the leg sleeve physique ✰
oh!! and another thing, where the FICS AT?? I’m seeing a whole bunch of yapping and not enough strapping, no put intended ya’ll be killing me with the sm!ut. Where did all my good reads go?? I know the girls know how to WRITE. Either imma be fed with good literature or imma start feeding myself, that’s it that’s all.
ꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄ
—————
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"𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓!" 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐞t 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝟏𝐯𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩.
You were never the athletic type of person but when it comes to Paige begging you to participate in her antics, you can't ever deny her. If it made her happy, you'd be down to do whatever.
"Alright that's enough of taunting me, you're a professional! It's just the inevitable" you sighed watching her dribble the ball with ease toward your feet.
"Aw don't sound so defeated mama, you just gotta get your skill game right" she stated in a confident tone. Her face twisted up into a sly smirk. Those "skills" she yapped about were far too out of your reach, but not because you didn't learn them, Paige just had a horrible way of teaching you them, at least in your defense she did.
"Well maybeee if you had enough patience to properly teaching me these amazing skills, I could probably beat you-"
Your statement laced with attitude was halted as you felt the strong impact of a basketball hitting your back. Spinning around on your feet nearly losing your balance from the unexpected force, who was no other than KK.
"DID I SCARE YOU POOKIE?!" She laughed pulling you into a tight hug. You solo forget about the stinging sensation you felt on your back. You absolutely adored KK but in all honesty, who doesn't??? Her energy always remains unmatched and unhinged.
"Not really but you definitely got stronger during this offseason cause that hit was low-key a little strong" You pulled back from the hug tugging at her arms in amusement.
"Girl boo now you're just yapping" She put your hand in your face dramatically and turned to Paige who was unimpressed by the conversation. "Fix your face Bueckers you know you're happy to be in my presence" she beamed twirling her twists in her face. "Why y'all are in here anyways ? Looking all sour-faced?"
You giggle at KK's words "Nothing much, just another day of me getting beat in a matchup by yours truly" you shrug nudging Paige in her side.
"Don't let her fool you, girl, she just likes to win at everything- she's not THAT good" The strong empahsis in her tone made a light bulb go off in your head.
"Now why are going to sit here and lie??" Paige questioned laughing at the statement. The two of them hardly ever took each other seriously, especially when it came to competition. "Baby the proof is in the pudding! Let me teach your girl how to win the right way" KK dramatically pushed Paige to the sidelines, flcking her forehead before running off towards you in pursuit, praying she wouldn't run after her.
"Woww I'm gonna get trained by the infamous KK Arnold, I'm so exciteddd" she giggled patting her shoulder playfully. Paige glared at the two of you with an unamused expression plastered on her face.
Kk cackled at the sight "Okay so boom we're just gonna ignore the big bear being mad over there, let me show you how a real one does it" dribbling the ball in between her legs swiftly, taking a smooth step back from the 3 point line, shooting the ball with her right hand, it drains into the net with ease. "BOOM! short, sweet, and simple" she beamed looking back at you.
You grabbed the ball attempting to mimic her dribbling skills but failed miserably. "Yeah, we're gonna need a little more practice I fear.." you said trailing off into uncertainty.
ꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄ
For the next 30 minutes, you and KK practiced dribbling and shooting the ball like your lives depended on it. You had become too engrossed with learning these skills, you failed to realize Paige had left the gym for god knows how long.
"I think I'm top 5 in the rankings now KK" you breathed out, "I gotta go find Paige".
"OH I know you are, don't forget to mention me when you win that Emmy award" she winked at me holding back her laughter. "Have fun tryna find P boogers"
How unserious can one human possibly be? because you were 100% certain she fit all the criteria for it. Shaking your head at your antics you gathered your purse and keys, dropping the basketball back on the rack, and headed out into the seemingly cold hallways of the facility. You thought you'd find her in the training room chilling but to your surprise, she was nowhere to be found.
Sighing to yourself, you pulled out your phone
𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 "𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞💜".......
"Oh! Are you done practicing with your partner for the final 4?  Done so soon?" her voice swarmed with annoyance.
"What happened to hello?, why are you being so rude about it we were all just having fun"  Confusion roamed throughout your mind, she never acted like this towards you.
The line went silent.
"Paige? hello?'
"We must have two different definitions of the term rude considering the fact that you didn't even care to notice that I left" her voice echoed from behind you. Swiftly turning around you saw her leaning in the doorway. Her cheeks flushed as if someone sliced the color out of them. She was livid.
"Paige it was all fun and gamessss" you whined hopelessly, "I was just preparing to get my payback for you beating me- "You stopped yourself mid-sentence as the awareness of her irritation wasn't irritation at all. "Aw P are you jealous??" you questioned as your face turned up into a smirk.
She kissed her teeth in annoyance "I'm not jealous y/n... be so fr right now" she scoffed.
"Yesss you are! There's no way you'd be upset over me trying to learn the sport that you love" you poked at her face laughing "You just want me to give you allll the attention hm?" cocking your head looking up at her, you knew you were right, but she'd never admit to it.
"Now you're just chatting" shaking her head in disbelief, playfully mushing your face.
"Your pride is too big for you to admit that your jealousy got the best of you babe, happens to the best of us I suppose"  Resting your head on her chest you smiling to yourself, you had her hooked. "Since you're so jealous I guess I'll go get Canes by myself, wouldn't wanna focus my attention on bringing someone else with me"
"Nah never that! I'm ready to go right now" she shot back at you as she lifted you up into her arms easily, a little too easy for your liking. You never understood how someone so small was able to lift weight like it's thin air.
"Mhm, that's what I thought" you emersed, softly kissing her temple.
ꨄꨄꨄꨄꨄ
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bengals-barnesbabe · 2 months
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mrs. burrow blurb…
825 words for anyone wondering
◎ 。 ゚ ❁ ゚ 。 ◎ * You've been drooling at your phone for hours (10 minutes) just waiting for your stud of a husband to get home from practice.
All your social media has are pictures, videos and gifs of your man just owning his practice look- well his Bengals gear. But no one should look that damn good at work, unless they're getting paid to. And last time you checked he was getting paid to throw a ball and run away.
"Baby!"
You jolt up from the couch to the sound of Joe's voice coming in from the garage.
"Where are you gorgeous?"
"Living room!" You respond with a smile in your voice.
You see him before he sees you, of course considering he's 6 '4 and 220 lbs of fine ass man. He comes in decked out in his "lady killing" gray sweat shorts and a tie dye muscle shirt with his practice bag swung over his tan broad shoulders.
"Well don't you look comfy." He chuckles nodding at your current state of being wrapped in a blanket like a caterpillar in its cocoon.
You smile unwrapping yourself and standing to your much shorter stature, not that it's ever been a problem for him. "You look like you want every woman within 100 miles to start ovulating."
He snorts and rolls his eyes before pulling you into his arms for a strong yet soft, comforting hug.
"I missed you." He mumbles into your 3 day twist out.
"You smell heavenly, oh I missed you too." He pulls back a bit with a blush heating his cheeks.
You chuckle as he composes himself. "I don't know what's going on with you today, but I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
Then dips his head to press his lips to yours. You hum sweetly into the kiss and rise to your tiptoes to reciprocate the gentle motions.
He pecks your lips once more before pulling back and smiling.
"I baked today." You beam.
His brows quirk up. "Oh yeah?" You nod and lead him to the kitchen. He sits at the counter as you place a cake plate in front of him, then lifts the translucent glass to reveal a sweet lemon Bundt cake.
"Wow."
You bite the bottom of your lip while cutting him a piece then handing it to him along with a fork.
"Thank you mamas." He says then takes a bite out of your homemade creation. You watch intently as he closes his eyes and throws his head back with a moan.
"Do you like it?"
"Oh yeah, fantastic. You did your thing baby." He responds, finishing the rest of his cake.
The joy you feel as the man you love cleans his plate is incomparable. Well you could compare it to the lust you feel when his body engulfs yours in any and every way.
Like when he walked in from an 8 hour practice looking like straight sex on legs. You'd never know how sexy a bleached buzz cut could be until he waltzed in that day.
There's nothing better than a man that just gets better with age.
"Babe?"
You shiver at the tone of his voice as he wakes you from your daydream. You lock eyes and let out a deep breath.
"Fuck, get me pregnant."
He steps down from the stool and smirks. "I think we already have that covered."
Still entranced in his beauty, you pout then feel a warmth around your midsection. You look down to see his hands rubbing on your bump, because you're 7 months pregnant. Which is why he said he was glad you were feeling better, because ever since your 3rd trimester started you've had more downs than anything.
"Babygirl must be having a quiet day if you somehow forgot about her." He jokes. You chuckle and place your hands on top of his.
"I didn't forget, I must've fallen asleep after baking. Then you walked in and I couldn't think of anything else." Then as if she was being summoned, your little girl starts to kick against his hands.
Joe kneels down and kisses your stomach. "I guess she was just trying to give her stunning mama a little break. Ain't that right Deya?"
"Deya?" You tilt your head amusingly.
"I've heard 'who dey' so much today, it's stuck in my head. I just wanted to try it out. What do you think?" He rose to his full height.
"Like Adeya Burrow? It's cute, we can put it on the list."
"Yeah?" He smiles. You nod.
"The list is getting pretty long though, we're gonna have to make a decision soon."
Your husband takes your hands in his and brings them up to kiss them. "We have time, but I think we have our two finalists."
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀
Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought. At exactly 35 weeks, your twin girls Adeya and Ariel Burrow, were born. A surprise but the most loved and adored surprise they'd ever had.
Main Masterlist
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sourlove · 4 months
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I am in love with Yandere!Jock!!
I’d love to build out the scenario where reader was banned from doing stunts, like maybe her team dropped her on the pyramid or she landed wrong somehow and got hurt? (And ofc our baby boy Lucas taking care of us like a mother hen after)
The game was cancelled.
Not like it could keep going after the star player suddenly ran off the field, still holding the ball.
Why?
Because you twisted your ankle coming down from the cheer team's pyramid.
Now, Lucas pouted like a scolded puppy while his coach tore him a new one in the nurse's office. You sighed as the man continued to scream and rant about the game they were just about to win. If anything, you appreciated the fact that he didn't blame you for the whole situation.
"And as for you!" Coach Jude growled, turning towards you. "I don't want to ever see you more than 2 feet off the ground! Do you hear me?!"
"Yes, Coach," you grumbled. Looks like you spoke too soon. The angry man glared at the both of you before stomping away to look for someone else to scream at. Lucas glanced at you guiltily.
"Sorry, honeybun," he mumbled softly. "I just panicked when I saw you fall..."
You just sighed and patted the bed. "Come on then."
Lucas perked up, "R-really? You're not going to scold me?"
"I think Coach has done enough of that already, come here baby."
He wasted no time in joining you on the tiny cot, trying not to squish you but beaming from ear to ear. "I could have caught you, you know, if I ran a bit faster-"
"Like hell, you would have," I scoff. "Next time just keep your eyes on the ball, okay?" He nodded eagerly and hugged you closer, smiling happily although he was half-hanging off the bed.
The nurse wasn't too happy when she found you like that and chased Lucas away from the office. "That boy of yours is a handful, huh?" she teased you, mildly exasperated.
You chuckle and fondly look over at where Lucas is trying to peep in through the window. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
FIND MY MASTERPOST WITH ALL MY WORK HERE
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thir10th · 4 months
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clothes-emily prentiss x fem!reader
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summary: a slow morning with Emily when you've just started dating tw: make out, no smut, just domestic fluff w Emily A/n: i was just in the mood for a little drable, what can i say
You feel a paw lightly patting your face, the soft fur tickling your nose
"Serge, please, 5 minutes" you groan at the cat that has already set on your pillow, wrapping himself in a little black ball, you'd find it incredibly cute hadn't he just woken you up an hour before your alarm went off.
You decide it's a lost battle and move to leave him occupy your pillow, burying your face on the other one, it smells like Emily's shampoo.
The woman feels your body pressing against hers, and she turns around to meet your face, her naked body pressing against yours closer now.
Her eyes still closed, she's still half asleep but she gives you a soft peck on your lips "mh-morning" she mutters.
Her silky black hair tickles your face, but you don't move, you let it cover your forehead and you inhale the scent.
"why doesn't he wake you up? he's technically your son"
"because you spoil him too much" she twists around trying to grab part of the sheet falling off the bed due to last night's activities.
Her nose scrunches in comfort, you think it's adorable and can't help but to kiss it. She barely reacts, which makes you think she's probably still too asleep to correspond.
Last night had been your 3rd real date with Emily, the familiarity you already felt being the result of the time you had spent being "just friends" until you finally gave in on your attraction to each other. You wouldn't have it any other way.
It had been Emily's turn for last night's date, after getting back from work, she cooked, opened a bottle of wine, and you ended the night making out in the coach, and the bed, and the shower, and then the bed again. You felt exhausted in the most perfect way.
"so what, i give him a little too many him treats, he deserves them" you sigh, giving up on sleep coming back to you.
You stand up, unwrapping your body from Emily's strong grip around your waist, she whines, but ends up giving it up and wrapping herself around the pillow.
You scratch Sergio behind the ears, and move to pick up something to put on so you can go make breakfast
you grab the blue shirt that she wore yesterday, and a pair of her boxers, both were laying on the floor, scattered around along with the rest of both your clothes.
You follow the trail that was left on the corridor, you find your pants and Emily's, your bra, your shirt, all the way to the living room. You pick them up, leaving them on the couch, then following to the kitchen.
You secure your headphones in your ears and pull up a favorite playlist. Coffee percolating. Music going. You hum along and gather the ingredients you need to make pancakes, the easiest recipe you could ever memorize.
You crack the eggs carefully, making sure no shells fall into the mixture, you swing around to the music in your ears, dancing to it as you cook.
One by one, the stack of pancakes gets bigger until you run out of mix, you sip on your coffee, turning around to set the table, but when you do, you jump.
"Jesus!" Emily leans on the wall, she watches you with a grin on her face "How long have you been standing there? You almost killed me"
"just enough, are you making pancakes?" she asks, you can't help but to feel embarrassed, she says she's been there enough, which probably means she's seen all your musical number, at least most of it
"Yes, you can get this there until I'm done here" you tell her, turning around to finish up, but instead of doing what you asked, she comes around you, wrapping her arms around your waist, hugging you from behind.
"you smell so nice" she whispers, her head rests on your shoulder, she kisses you there, and on your neck, leaves a trail of small, sweet kisses along your shoulder.
Her hands caress your waist, "you’re wearing my shirt" she says, pressing her lips against your pulse point which makes you chuckle "i am" you say.
Her fingers slowly brushing the bare skin behind her boxers "and my boxers" she nibs at the soft skin on your neck, the smile on your face doesn't fade, you turn to face her, surrounding her neck with your arms
"do you mind? that- that i wear your clothes- I mean"
"no, no, of course not" her hand moves to take a couple of hair strands off your face, placing them behind your hear in a loving gesture
"in fact- you look really good in my clothes" the bright smile on her face turns into a devilish one
her lips crash against yours, lips and tongue, the wetness in her soft lips making you groan on her mouth, she swallows your sounds, her hand grabs your face, yours wrapping around her waist, gripping the flesh.
You separate you lips from hers to much of your distaste "let me just finish this ok? can you wait just a second?" you ask, but she doesn't let go off you, her hands on your waist lower to get your ass, giving a light squeeze
“Maybe. We’ll see,” Emily chuckles, the intensity of her kisses and touches increasing now, tugging you back into her chest. Emily kisses the side of your head, and groans about having to wait to have you.
You finish all up as fast as you can, trying to ignore the woman-koala that's wrapped around your waist, kissing your shoulder where the shirt keeps falling off.
"ok, I'm all yours now, try not to burn me, the stove is still warm" she lets out a devilish laugh
“mh, I like how that sounds, mine”
she loves hearing you’re hers, and you know it. She bites at your earlobe possessively.
she presses you into the counter, her kisses get heavier, hotter, deeper. "Ems-" you say breathlessly "mh?" she asks, her lips back onto yours.
"don't start something you can't finish" you say taking a moment to get away from her lips, but she's back at it in no time
"who says i'm not finishing this?"
Before you can even react, she lifts you up to the counter, you wrap your legs around her waist, your ankles pressing on her ass.
"I let you in my pants a couple of times and now it's all you can think about, who would've said SSA Prentiss was such a needy woman" you joke, her lips still kissing your neck, she snatches at you and kisses you again, biting your lip a little harder than usual
"well, i guess i just can't get enough of you" her lips crashing against yours once more "you're just lucky you're so cute, or i wouldn't let you get away with something like that"
Her words have an immediate effect on you, making you whine aloud "oh, please, don't let me get away with it"
✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶
I can write a thousand of this if you like them! I’m a sucker for intimacy and domestic Emily!!!! 😭😭😭
Like and reblog <3
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yesimwriting · 4 months
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you write art and patrick so well im literally foaming at the mouth for more
yes yes everyone pls ask me about my boyfriends that are also boyfriends to each other 🩷 (i have two extra drafts for them already)
----
breath in. the pad of your thumb presses into the side of the ball. you give yourself a beat to feel the weight of it, to embrace the familiar feeling of felt against your palm. breath out.
you bounce the ball once. breath in. you squeeze the ball, knuckles briefly straining beneath your skin before letting it hit the concrete again. breath out.
finally, you raise the arm holding your racket. every joint in your body is locked into place. there's a science to a sharp serve. the ball will land where you will it to.
you release the ball, arm stretching forward. a total follow through. the ball hits the center of your racket. the force of your hit propels the ball through the air until it hits the center of the other side of the court.
ugh. the night before your qualifying match and suddenly the precise serve you spent years perfecting loses its edge. what happened to the serve that media outlets have been calling 'the ultimate point guaranteer'? why is today the day that you can only manage a perfectly average serve?
you groan, letting the disappointment's weight settle against your chest. you suck. with a sigh, you start walking towards the extra tennis balls you left near the net. your dad is so never going to get over you not qualifying for the us open.
"there she is." the voice surprises you enough to force you to still. patrick...and a few steps behind him, his doubles partner, art. "the princess of modern tennis."
you turn your head enough to glare in patrick's direction. he's referencing a title some journalist used in one article that your dad decided would be perfect for marketing materials. "don't."
normally, you like seeing patrick and art more than you can justify. you don't know if you can consider yourself their friend, it's not like you guys see each other outside of coincidental run ins at tennis events. the three of you have been to more and more of the same tournaments these days. they're familiar in a way that settles you, like the feel of tennis ball in your hand.
you try to tap into that usual warmth, but you can't quite get there. it's not their fault you're frustrated.
art gives you a look that feels like an apology. he walks forward, opening the gate to the fence and stepping onto the court. "i told him not to."
you bend down to pick up a spare ball. "i appreciate the effort."
"what?" patrick follows art onto the court. "it's on billboards."
he's seen your billboard? you don't know why you feel the need to dwell on that. you weren't the biggest fan of having a picture of yourself blown up and pasted everywhere, especially with a caption that makes potential losses extra embarrassing, but you've never been truly self conscious about it. now, you're trying to picture it in your mind, trying to remember the details of your expression, the way your hair was styled, what you were wearing.
you let go of the ball in your hand, bouncing it against the ground so that you have something to look at. "it was a charity thing."
"i know." you let yourself glance up at patrick. he's closer than you thought he'd be. you catch the ball before releasing it again. "for the youth outreach program thing, right?" before you can answer, he extends an arm, catching the ball before you can reach it. "you looked cute in it."
art looks at you again, something a little more distinct than apology behind his eyes. he reaches for the tennis ball still in patrick's hand. "patrick."
he twists his arm away before his friend can steal the ball from him. art follows him, leaning forward and grabbing his arm. "what?" their play fight grows in physicality, with each of them pushing and pulling at the other. you'd worry about the game losing its lightheartedness if both of them weren't smiling. "you stared at it for more than five minutes before getting out of the car."
"really?"
art freezes, his hand squeezing the only part of the ball patrick's left exposed. "it was a good billboard, you look pretty--looked pretty." the implication of his correction hits him a second too late. "not that you don't look pretty now, you always look pretty, but you looked really--" he cuts himself off with a sharp breath, "but that wasn't the point, you also looked like a strong role model for underprivileged young women."
the compliments paired with his uncertainty make it difficult not to melt. you beam at him. "thank you, art." you adjust your hold on your racket, both hands resting on the grip. "i think you're pretty, too."
he smiles, head briefly angling itself downwards. art manages to steal the tennis ball from his friend. you can't tell if he pulled it out of patrick's grasp or if patrick chose to let go.
"you know what the best thing to do is the night before a big match?" patrick's question feel rhetorical until you look at him. he's watching you like he's waiting for something.
despite knowing what you should be doing, you also know that you're incapable of not playing along. "what?"
"doing anything that keeps you from getting in your head." you stand a little straighter, chin angling itself a fraction of an inch upwards. as nice as the local doubles duo is, advice offered from other tennis players comes with its own sort of tension. saying that you know best implies that you see yourself as the best. "that's what's wrong with your serve."
your eyebrows briefly pinch together. "you think i'm in my head?"
he takes a slight step forward, body angling itself to make the distance between you feel even smaller than it truly is. "i think your serve is technically perfect." patrick takes a moment to press his lips together. "but you're tense."
patrick's going about this the nice way. he's focusing on what you're doing right. you technique is objectively precise, your dad made sure of that. he's coached you since you were old enough to securely hold a racket for a reason. but tennis isn't just routine and muscle memory.
there's an art to the sport, and you know the difference it makes when you're playing. you can feel when your heart is in it, and right now, all you can think about is that your retired tennis champion dad watching you in the stands.
the feeling of something warm on your shoulder pulls you out of your train of thought. you blink. patrick's hand is on your shoulder. "you need to relax."
"i'm..." it's instinct to argue, to insist that you're fine and that you'll push through, but something tells you that that'd be pointless. he'd know. "i'll work it out."
his fingers briefly press into your shoulder, the squeeze assuring and gentle. "that's your problem--work." you look at him skeptically. "you're overworking yourself, and it's putting you in your head."
art angles himself a little closer. he extends an arm, placing his fingers on the edge of your racket. "that's why you're supposed to rest the night before a match."
the thought of not being in motion isn't appealing. if anything, you feel like you have too much energy in your system. but objectively, you know they're generally right.
art gently tugs on your racket. "you should come hang out with us."
"yeah," patrick agrees with a slight hum, "you're in the hotel down the street, right?"
okay--you know the right answer. your dad would be mad if he found out you snuck out the night before a match to practice, but if he found out you ended up in a hotel room with some guys--he'd die and then come back to life just to kill you.
"um..." your eyes briefly fall to your racket. "yeah, i am." okay, you need to think of an excuse that doesn't make you sound like a little kid with a curfew. you twist your wrist slightly, a halfhearted attempt to free your racket. "but it's kind of late...and i have to be up early tomorrow."
art pulls on your tennis racket again. there's nothing overly forceful about it, but it's enough to make you look at him. "yeah, but you were going to stay out here for a awhile, right?"
"and it's good to take your mind off of things." patrick tacks on his point. "i mean--we always do something fun before our matches."
patrick stretches out an arm, the back of his hand softly hitting art's shoulder. "yeah, yeah, we do."
you press the nail of your thumb against the side of your racket's handle. "really?" you're mumbling to yourself more than anything else, "something fun."
it's risky. if anything goes wrong, you'll never hear the end of it. and if you mess up tomorrow because you're tired or distracted, you're not sure you'll be able to forgive yourself. you've already taken some risks tonight. you should quit while you're ahead.
then again, you like being around them, and they're in the same hotel as you. it can't be that bad of an idea.
you let out a reluctant sigh before finally looking up. you glance between them, too aware that it's too late for you. "okay," you breathe out, "i guess going up for a little bit can't hurt."
patrick grins. "can't hurt at all."
art lets go of your racket before taking a few steps forward. he stops once he's at your side before throwing an arm around your shoulder. "you know us." art's hand settles over patrick's. "we'd never do anything to hurt you."
warmth crawls up your chest. you're comfortable with them--maybe too comfortable. "yeah," you hum in an attempt to dismiss the feelings bubbling in your chest, "let's just go."
——
im thinking of writing a part 2 to this so if you’d be interested in that and/or would want to be tagged pls lmk :)
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joequiinn · 2 months
Text
The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 12
[chap eleven] | [all chapters here] | [chap thirteen]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers
a/n: We're back people!!! This chapter has some big ol' drama that I wasn't expecting to write, but boy do I love every moment of it. This is also a little heavy on the ~*~ice princess family lore~*~, so... sorrynotsorry, I guess? This stemmed from my friend and I bemoaning people being mad at ice princess, and then the idea spiralled from there. Can't wait to see what y'all think!
wc: 8.0k
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Chapter Twelve
Waking up to the sunlight streaming in through a window, you grunted in annoyance at its offending rays - you always loathed waking up with the sun, preferring all curtains to be drawn while you slept. Your ears began to instantly ring with a headache, and you burrowed deeper into the blankets, curling into a tight ball and twisting your face into a childish furrow.
God, you felt awful. Not even conscious for a full minute, and you already felt like complete shit; this hangover was instantly relentless, drumming in your skull and causing intense pressure behind your eyes. You were so not looking forward to the rest of the day - just your luck, you’d be battling this hangover well into the evening, hell, maybe even into tomorrow.
You realized amidst your suffering that you weren’t lying in your comfortable bed, the surface beneath you too rigid and bumpy, the blankets too scratchy, the pillow too flat. Considering that you were out at a party all night, you weren’t at all surprised that you ended up asleep elsewhere, so you didn’t bother opening your eyes to gauge your surroundings. No, your only concern right now was getting at least a few more hours of shut eye, but the aching of your body and the pressure in your skull was sure to deprive you of that small joy.
With incoherent grumbles and sighs, you tried to get comfortable again, but everything was working against you - the material of your clothes was suddenly unbearable, the makeshift bed you were in was rock hard, the sunlight was too bright despite the blankets pulled over your head. This was going to be absolutely unbearable. You knew better than to drink that much, and yet you did it anyway, like you always seemed to.
Hell, you couldn’t even remember anything past your impromptu walk with Eddie. You vaguely recalled dragging him to his feet and insisting that you needed to work off some of your energy and clear your head, and apparently drunk-you decided a hike around the lake was the best way to manage that. You could remember snippets of the walk - you were sure you spoke about your parents, that at some point you two sat alone by the bonfire. But everything from that point on was completely lost to you - you’d have to ask Eddie to fill in the blanks, unless he was also so drunk that he forgot what happened.
As you thought about your partner-in-crime, your expression furrowed thoughtfully, so with an exhausted sigh, you stuck your head out of the blankets just enough to open your eyes and peer around. For a few long moments, your vision was just a blur, the glare of the sunlight proving to be anything but helpful; once your eyes had finally adjusted, you were staring at a wall - more specifically, the interior of Eddie’s van.
You two slept in the van? Shit, that explained why your body was so achy, you had barely any cushion between you and the rough metal floor. With another histrionic sigh, you attempted to roll onto your back, but your shoulder almost immediately met Eddie’s solid body, preventing you from moving. So, instead, you turned your head to look at him, the two of you practically nose-to-nose. Despite yourself, your cheeks grew a touch warm; you weren’t quite spooning, but you may as well have been considering how close you were, how Eddie’s legs curled up a little behind yours.
Given your proximity, it was challenging to even get a good look at Eddie’s face, but you nonetheless studied him for a brief couple of moments - his curls were in his face again, tempting you to push them back, but his expression seemed restful. As you stared at him, the assault of your hangover faded away for a split second, but it just as quickly came back, the drumming in your skull growing more aggressive. Your face twisted again as you turned forward, trying to settle back down under the blankets as your brain rattled. As you curled the sheets around you, you accidentally bumped Eddie with both your shoulder and your rear, your heel booting him in the shin, but he didn’t stir even slightly at any of the disturbances. So, you relaxed with a deep sigh, allowing yourself to rest back against him.
Eddie’s steady breathing against your ear was surprisingly perfect white noise, your eyes fluttering shut as your body slowly relaxed. Despite the headache and the ringing ears, you managed to fall asleep again in a huddle of blankets and limbs beside him.
The rest felt short-lived, however, with Eddie eventually jolting awake, as if he’d been falling in a dream. The sudden motion, of course, awoke you instantly, and with a startled look you turned towards Eddie, your head spinning wildly from the quick motion; you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your hands to your head as you waited for your brain to settle back down. Once you opened your eyes again, you met Eddie’s confused gaze; your close proximity caused his eyes to cross briefly as he focused on you, and you watched as the cogs slowly turned in his head. Despite how deeply he’d been sleeping, he still looked exhausted.
“You okay?” You asked hoarsely, cringing at the sound of your own quiet voice. Eddie still seemed confused for a moment, but he nodded slowly, looking around the van with a furrow that suggested his ears were ringing just as badly as yours.
Eddie slumped back onto his makeshift pillow with a moan, closing his eyes as his breathing mellowed out. You lazily leaned your head against his shoulder, your slow inhales and exhales beginning to synchronize with his as you stared up at the ceiling. You could feel his body tense a little, so you shuffled away a few inches - you were never a touchy person to begin with, so that small act of leaning against him was strange even to you.
For a few long minutes, you both lied there in silence, neither of you quite ready to act human considering your hangovers. You eventually looked at Eddie again, watching his expression - he’d go from calm to afflicted, from disoriented to content. He most definitely wasn’t doing good right now, and he was probably trying to recall the missing parts of the evening as well.
You inhaled deeply as Eddie finally turned his head to look at you again, his expression contemplative as he studied you. The corner of your mouth pulled up in a lazy smirk, causing Eddie to stare thoughtfully at your lips long enough that it made you squirm. You bit the inside of your cheek, growing edgy under the acuteness of Eddie’s eyes; there was something about his stare that was a little too intense for your liking, so you looked away again to calm yourself.
“Hungover?” Your voice croaked again, but you felt the need to say something - Eddie being quiet was uncommon, and in this moment it made you a little anxious. Eddie simply hummed in confirmation, the sound gravelly much like his morning voice. You took a breath, feeling mild annoyance although you knew it was unwarranted, “Me too.”
Eddie’s gaze still burnt into you, and it was beginning to grow irritating - again, you shouldn’t have let his silence bother you, but there was something about it that you didn’t like. Or maybe you were just feeling bitchy because you were hungover. So, with a tired frown, you looked back at Eddie, giving him something of an irked look. He seemed to realize it was in reaction to his silence, so his expression softened as he took a moment to collect himself.
“Sorry…” He grumbled in a small tone.
You offered a grin, unable to stay annoyed with Eddie considering that you both felt like total crap right now. But nonetheless there was a tension between you two that you couldn’t quite place, so you attempted to tease, “You get grouchy after a night of drinking?”
Eddie smiled back, although the look didn’t quite reach his eyes, which flicked back down to your lips, “I think I drank my weight in booze.”
Your smile grew a little wider. You pressed the palms of your hands onto your forehead as if that would alleviate some of the hangover pains you were feeling, closing your eyes again, “Then I must’ve had double mine.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh, and you two lied there in silence for a few long beats.
“Why are we in the van?” You asked while opening your eyes, though you kept your hands hovering over them as if to block out the sun. A surprised confusion crossed Eddie’s face, a reaction that felt a little bigger than necessary considering your seemingly harmless question.
He licked his chapped lips, blinking rapidly as he tried to mask his befuddlement, “You don’t… remember last night?”
There was hesitation in the way he asked the question, and your brow knotted as you studied his face for a few moments. You didn’t always drink so much that it led to memory loss, but when it did, you were generally left in utter confusion, especially once you were told all the ridiculous things you may or may not have done while intoxicated.
“Last thing I remember was… walking? We went on a walk or something, right?” Eddie nodded, the despondent look in his eyes nearly distracting. As you considered it, worry washed over you, and you felt embarrassed without knowing the reason why, “Oh god, don’t tell me I did something stupid. Your face is saying I did something stupid.”
At that comment, Eddie’s cheeks grew pink, and the quick shake of his head wasn’t particularly convincing even as he answered, “Nothing stupid.” You narrowed your eyes a little, so he nervously elaborated, “We talked a lot. Probably about stuff you wouldn’t have said sober.”
You hissed under your breath, knowing that you could be a handful when you drank. You looked up at Eddie through your lashes, tempted to ask for him to explain what exactly you talked about, but at the same time you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to hear. At least not yet. The knowing look in Eddie’s eyes suggested that he remembered nearly everything about last night, but wasn’t about to share unless asked. So, of course, you assumed the worst of yourself, trying to go down the list of all the wild things you’ve done in the past during a night of drinking - did you repeat any of those habits, or did you do something worse?
With a sigh, you tugged the blanket back up over your head, as if hiding would relieve you of the shame you may have caused yourself last night. You heard Eddie laugh to himself at the action, and although he couldn’t see your face you glared in his general direction.
“You really don’t remember anything?” Eddie asked as if he were seeking a specific response, clearly aware of something you weren’t; hell, there was almost something downcast about the question. You slowly pulled the blanket down far enough to expose your eyes, looking at Eddie in question.
“Why’d you ask it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re not telling me something important.” You narrowed your eyes in scrutiny, trying to gauge Eddie’s reaction to your words. He was doing his best to play it cool, something that could’ve fooled you only a couple of weeks ago. But you’d learned enough about Eddie at this point, and when he scratched the back of his neck it confirmed that he was feeling a little edgy right now - so, that definitely was a nervous habit of his.
With a set jaw, Eddie gave you a convincing look, “Nothing to do with you.”
Your brows went up as if to ask “really” and Eddie matched the expression, an insistence in his gaze, evidently wanting you to drop the subject. As if to put you at ease, he smirked a little, and although you may not have entirely believed him, you also didn’t want to think that Eddie would lie to you about it. So, you accepted his answer, sighing tiredly as you disappeared under the blankets again; your body felt so damn heavy, and your head was spinning again.
“God, I wish I could lie here all fucking day.” You grumbled, your voice muffled slightly by the layers on top of you. You just knew that the moment you tried to sit up or move, you’d feel queasy and the drums in your head would become unbearably aggressive. Maybe you could convince Eddie to just stay here in the damn van, maybe you two could just sleep off your hangovers; you’d both probably be better for it.
Eddie shuffled around next to you; it seemed like he was also getting comfortable again, but you couldn’t be quite sure. He pulled at the blankets until he was under them with you, lying on his side and tenting the sheets with his hand so that he could continue looking at you. The lazy, tired smile on his face made you feel warm, and you nearly laughed at how silly and intimate this felt - the two of you hiding out under the sheets as if that would keep the world from ever disturbing you again. You rolled onto your side to face him, studying him as he studied you, his dark eyes continuing to linger on your lips.
“We can lie here all fucking day.” Eddie repeated your words reassuringly, causing you to grin back as your body relaxed.
“Then we’re going to - I feel like shit.” You answered while snuggling into your pillow, closing your eyes while attempting to get comfortable.
“You and me both, princess.” Eddie muttered back, as if he, too, was trying to mellow out enough to fall asleep again.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Considering that you had no idea when you woke up the first time, it was absolutely disorienting to wake up again around mid-afternoon. You’d managed to sleep most of the day away, something you’d almost never done before. Both you and Eddie were begrudging the fact that you had to return to reality, that you had to act human again and get yourselves home. You tried not to think about the lecture you’d get from your parents or how your head was still pounding or how you somehow had to be functional enough to go back to school tomorrow. All of these things were easy to ignore as you two lied there in the back of the van for a little while longer; it wasn’t until Eddie finally backed out of Rick’s driveway and began the trek back to your place that the dread began to set in.
Despite fearing you’d puke all over yourself now that you were in motion, you managed to keep it down, although Eddie had to pull over for you once when the nausea got particularly nasty. As you took deep breaths to compose yourself, you’d wished that the two of you had the forethought to grab some water and aspirin from Rick’s before leaving. As if reading your mind, Eddie pulled into a gas station a few minutes later and quickly ran in to grab bottled water, which you both promptly chugged down.
The drive was otherwise passed in relative silence - you were both fighting your headaches, so that was reason enough to stay quiet, but there was also something you observed in Eddie’s energy that seemed disinterested in conversation. You certainly weren’t going to push it, at least not today, but there was an uncharacteristic standoffishness about him that you couldn’t ignore, that got you wondering what was going on in his head. You kept staring at him, trying to recall anything about last night that could have put him in a mood, but your mind was drawing a complete, frustrating blank.
As Eddie drove through your neighborhood, a wave of disappointment washed over you - you really weren’t in the mood to face your parents, already knowing it would be bad. When Eddie picked you up last night, you practically sprinted out the door, avoiding the both of them out of fear that they wouldn’t let you go to this party. At the time, you didn’t care that you’d eventually be confronted with questions on your whereabouts, but now that it was nearly upon you, you were absolutely dreading it, cursing your past-self for putting you in this position.
So, when Eddie pulled in front of your driveway and you saw your uncle’s car there, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach, the ringing in your ears escalating to an unbearable tone. Tom’s car meant that whatever was about to happen was far worse than you were expecting. He never came around the house on Sundays, those were his days for golfing or fishing or some equally as dumb “man” hobby; if he was here, then it meant your mom must have called him, probably in a melodramatic panic about your running off last night.
As you stared at the vehicle, your dread mounting as you began to feel queasy again, Eddie spared you a confused look, identifying your worry almost immediately. He gave your shoulder a light nudge to draw your attention back, and head-on you looked even more trepidatious than he originally thought.
“I think I’m about to be in deep shit.” You said plainly, trying to mask your hesitation. Eddie’s face twisted with confusion, obviously not aware of what you were referring to, but being nonetheless concerned for you.
“Want me to just drive off?” Eddie joked in a measly effort to put you at ease. Unfortunately, it didn’t work in the slightest, no matter how badly you wanted it to. Your brows rose in warning.
“That’s my uncle’s car.” His face dropped into a similarly worried expression, looking quickly between you and the house.
“Shit.” He didn’t need you to explain any further - having encountered your uncle while the man was on-duty, Eddie was more than aware of the kind of imposing jackass he could be.
And that didn’t even take into account how much you personally detested Tom - you loathed him for the way he talked down to you, the way he pretended to tease you when in reality he was just being cruel. Since your fourteenth or maybe fifteenth birthday, you’d made every effort to ignore him or make excuses whenever he was around; he was absolutely unbearable. How your mother could stand growing up with him, you’d never know, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know.
As you watched Eddie - who continued to stare at the house in consideration - he suddenly hissed and shrank down in his seat, clearly being spotted by someone. You whipped your gaze back towards your house, spotting your uncle Tom in the front window with his arms crossed, clearly watching the two of you with a critical eye. You, too, couldn’t help but shrink in your seat a little, although you knew it wouldn’t do you any good.
“If I’m not at school tomorrow, assume I’m dead.” You cracked without even a hint of humor in your voice, sharing a fearful look with Eddie. You began to adjust your belongings in your arms, readying to open the door, but Eddie’s arm shot across your front to stop you, his hand resting gently atop your collarbone.
“Are you going to be okay?” You were nearly dumbfounded by the level of concern in his voice, as if somehow he knew all the unsaid hatred and fear you had of your uncle. For a few long moments, you and Eddie simply stared at each other, and you gave him an almost sad look.
“I have to be.” You responded simply, putting your hand on his arm and lowering it away from you, “Get going, Eddie, I don’t want him dragging you into this.”
“I’m supposed to just leave you to the vultures?” He was about to say something more, but his eyes flicked past you and out the window, his skin paling a little in alarm. Without looking back, your heart started pounding rapidly - you knew for a fact Eddie was looking at Tom right now.
Before you could turn to look, the passenger door was yanked open, taking you by surprise as a meaty hand grabbed your elbow. You let out an affronted sound as you steadied yourself so you wouldn’t fall right on your ass, Eddie practically leaping across the seat to assist you.“Get the hell outta here, kid.” Tom’s aggressive tone addressed Eddie as if he were scrum, while you were all too easily pulled from the vehicle. You let out a sound of frustration, yanking yourself from his hold and shaking your arm of the slight pain he caused you. You whipped around to glare at Tom, pressing back against the side of the passenger seat to keep as much distance between you two as possible.
“You can’t just drag me out of a fucking car!” You nearly surprised yourself with your fiery tone, though you seemed to always resort to aggression these days, not nearly as level headed as you once were. Tom, too, gave you a provoked look that made you shrink just a little.
“Do you know how worried your parents were!?” He retorted, his fists tightly clenched at his sides, “Another hour and we were gonna report you as a missing person to the police!” His eyes flicked back towards Eddie, making you wish you could stand tall between them like a human shield, “And you. The hell are you doing hanging around with my niece? What, being a little punk at the station isn’t enough for you?”
You spun around to give Eddie a warning look, hoping that maybe he’d speed out of here before things inevitably got ugly between you and your family, “Eddie, get out of here, please.”
He’d been staring boldly at your uncle, doing his best to hide his alarm and unease. At your insistent request, he met your eyes with a seriousness that took you by surprise, “Like hell I’m gonna leave.”
Your heart skipped anxiously, your gaze almost pleading with Eddie - this wasn’t his battle to fight, this wasn’t his problem to fix. You just wanted him to go, to pretend he wasn’t seeing the skeletons in your family closet; for a second, you felt shame that he was seeing this part of your life that you so carefully kept to yourself.
“Get in the house.” Tom spoke between his teeth, and you couldn’t help the scoff in your throat as you looked back up at him.
“You don’t have any say in what I do.” Beyond his shoulder, you could see your parents on the front step, your father with one foot forward as if prepared to approach you any minute now. Your mother stood back, biting her nails on one hand while looking around nervously, as if fearful that neighbors may be watching, “Look, I’m home, I’m fine, so will you get over it?”
“That attitude isn’t going to fly with me.” Tom’s voice was laced with venom as he crossed his arms as if to become even more imposing, “Do you know how many stupid girls go missing all because they don’t tell their families where they’re going?”
You rolled your eyes, your gaze darting between Tom and your father, who was finally walking towards you.
“I’m not a stupid girl, and I wasn’t gonna go missing.” You said insistently; at that same moment, you heard Eddie’s door open and slam shut, causing you to panic yet again. You shoved past your uncle as you saw Eddie rounding the van in your peripheral vision. You quickly put yourself between him and your family, your back to them as you put your hands up to Eddie’s shoulders, “Please don’t…”
You weren’t sure what you thought Eddie was going to do, but it nonetheless had you worried. Your family was too temperamental, too cruel, and you didn’t want him to bear the brunt of it. He didn’t need to do any of this, didn’t need to help you, and his insistence on staying with you was causing far too much confusion in your head right now.
The worried look in his eyes were nearly staggering as he looked down at you, “I can’t just let you take this--”
“All this fuss for him?” Your father’s accusatory voice forced you to turn around again, meeting his harsh glare. With all this chaos going on, you were getting fucking dizzy. Your father made a disappointed sound, shaking his head, “I don’t believe this… Are you just doing this to upset us? You run around without telling us where you are, you skip school, you talk back - all because of some drug dealing satanic punk?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, an exasperated, pissed off sound as you threw back your head at the ridiculous generalization of the man standing behind you, “Eddie’s the most harmless person I’ve ever met. You should be more worried about him than Eddie.”
Your eyes shot towards Tom, your brows practically pointing at him with accusation. The look on his face was condescending in response, and you crossed your arms in frustration as you glared at your father again.
“Don’t be so naive.” Your uncle said cruelly, but you didn’t dare look at him again, “You’ve already upset your parents enough, but you just keep pushing. You wouldn’t be nearly so lucky if you were my kid.”
Your father shared a glance with Tom beforing looking back at you, his eyes quickly zeroing in on Eddie instead. He took an assertive step forward while pointing his finger harshly at Eddie; you took a step back, bumping into Eddie, who put his hands on the back of your arms to steady you.
“What could you and my daughter possibly have in common? What is it about you that has her so possessed that she’s insistent on acting like this?”
“Will you just leave him alone!” You interjected before Eddie could answer, again wishing that he wasn’t involved in this. Your father’s dark eyes returned to yours, “Have any of you considered he’s not at fault? Maybe I’m tired of how boring my life is and he makes it more fun than it’s been in years?”
“‘Fun.’” Your father repeated with a mocking huff.
“You couldn’t have chosen someone ‘fun’ who isn’t a degenerate?” Tom chimed in snidefully.
“As if anyone else in this town even comes close.” You reply harshly, your eyes cruel and intense, “None of you can scare me into listening to you, you know.”
You stare smartly at your uncle, making it clear his presence wasn’t appreciated; he simply stared back challengingly, a mean smirk pulling at his lips.
He leveled Eddie with a condescending look, “Let’s hope you don’t get pulled over next time I’m on duty, Munson.”
“Don’t fucking bother him.” You whined in exasperation, your head throbbing from the migraine that had rapidly grown during the course of this fight. You clenched your eyes shut as if to block it out, but that only seemed to make you feel worse.
Your mother’s voice surprised you, having not realized that she came to join you at the end of the driveway; her skittish body had been hidden by your father and uncle, “Can we all please calm down and just talk? It doesn’t have to get ugly like this.”
Her gaze looked between you and Eddie with worry; when her gaze lingered on him, she nearly looked apologetic, as if she, too, was embarrassed by him seeing the family like this.
“There’s nothing more to talk about.” You responded, but your voice was weaker, the hangover finally catching up with you. It felt like your head was spinning as you tried to just focus on your mother, your hands grasping at air as if to center yourself. You felt Eddie’s hands tighten on your arms a little, as if he could tell how you were feeling.
“Oh, this conversation is far from over.” Your father said coldly, staring at Eddie with all the disappointment he could muster, “No daughter of mine is going to keep hanging around a kid like you, so get the hell out of here before things get worse.”
The threat caused your temper to flare, and before you could stop yourself you took a step towards your father and gave him a rough shove, “What is your problem!?”
He stumbled, but steady himself with ease, the dangerous glare in his eyes nearly frightening you. Tom put an arm out to catch your father should he need to, taking a dangerous step towards you. Again, your head spun, this time accompanied by nausea that forced you to gasp for air. You pressed a hand to your forehead as if that would somehow help, doubling over with your other hand on your knee.
“Oh, god, honey.” Your mother’s voice leapt with concern as Eddie put a hand to the small of your back while the other carefully gripped your arm. You could hear voices overlapping as you tried to breathe, but it became impossible to focus as your stomach turned on you, only about to make out Eddie’s stressed voice demanding that everyone stop.
You heaved up mostly liquid and bile, the contents of your stomach splashing onto Tom’s shoes and the pavement. You struggled to breathe as snot and tears started to stream down your face, pathetic little sounds leaving your mouth between spurts of puke as your back arched like a cat. You could feel Eddie’s hand on your arm keeping you steady, shouting something at your family that you weren’t aware enough to hear, although you thought you’d heard something along the lines of “back the fuck up.” You watched as your uncle leapt back, feet and ankles filthy, his voice also shouting something unintelligible.
When you finally had a chance to breathe, you looked around at your family from your hunched position, your gaze venomous even as saliva dribbled down your chin. The feeling of Eddie’s hands kept you secured as you slowly came back to yourself, easing back up to full height with shaking breaths.
“Get me outta here, Eddie.” Your defeated tone was in stark contrast to the dark glare you shot each member of your family. You started to look up at Eddie, but quickly turned away, feeling too disgusting right now to look him in the eye. Without hesitation, he guided you back to the passenger door, making sure he was between you and your family, who actually appeared to be giving you space for the first time in this entire argument.
Once you were back in your seat and Eddie slammed the door, you watched him round over to his side, keeping his complete attention on your angry family as if he were worried they might jump in front of the van. Just in case, you reached out and locked your door, taking in the looks on everyone’s faces through the strands of hair that had fallen in your face - your father looked stunned, your mother hurt, and your uncle angry as he tried to shake the puke from his shoes.
As Eddie sped off, you wiped your chin with the back of your hand, as revolting as it felt to do. You stared at the dashboard, becoming lost in thought as your head spun, your vision blurring as you zoned out. You ran your fingers under your eyes, trying to catch any stray tears that may still be lingering there, sniffling smally in a measly attempt to regain your composure.
From the corner of your eye, you could tell Eddie kept looking over at you every time he came to a stop sign or got caught at a red light. But you refused to meet his gaze, refused to let him see just how fucking pathetic you felt right now. No one saw the ugliness of your family - none of your old friends, none of your exes. No, you all kept it a secret, pretended to be a good little cookie-cutter family when others were around, so for Eddie to be the one to actually see through the cracks dared to make you feel sick all over again.
“I’m sorry…” You muttered quietly, eyes staring ahead of you without actually seeing. Eddie sighed deeply, but you continued to keep your gaze off of him.
“You don’t have to apologize for a damn thing.” He answered, his voice equally as quiet, although stronger than yours. You were tempted to look at him, but you settled for just watching him from the corner of your eye, letting your hair act as a shield between you.
You pressed your lips tightly together, struggling to find your words, “That was fucking embarrassing; you didn’t need to see that.”
A long stretch of silence passed between you two, long enough that you finally dared to turn your attention to Eddie. His jaw was clenched and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his eyes looking even darker than they already were.
He couldn’t possibly be so worked up for you, could he? The thought was unfathomable, and you instantly felt undeserving of it. You never let people close enough to worry about you like this, and you loathed the idea that Eddie was pitying you, feeling sorry for you.
Just as he turned his head to look at you, you whipped your gaze forward again nervously, the back of your neck warm.
“Is that the shit you deal with?” He asked, voice both angry and sad. When you didn’t respond, he added, “There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”
You could tell there was so much more that Eddie would have liked to say - the way he kept working his jaw, kept opening his mouth only to snap it shut again. His mind must have been going a thousand miles per hour, and yet he couldn’t seem to say a single thing. Much like you, although you felt more as if your brain had turned on you, as if you were so worked up and frightened of being emotional that everything within you simply turned off.
Although you hadn’t given Eddie a destination to drive to, you were nonetheless a little surprised that you ended up back at his place. You simply stared at the trailer as Eddie climbed out of the van, coming back around to your side and opening the door for you; it took you another few moments before you slid out of the seat, fussing to keep your skirt in place. God, you couldn’t wait to take off this damn outfit; it was cute yesterday, when you were excited to go to a party, but today it was simply annoying and burdensome.
Eddie led you inside, his hands hovering just a couple inches from you as if he were worried you were some fragile porcelain doll. A part of you hated it, but a larger part of you was still shocked at just how kind he was being towards you, even after seeing how ugly your homelife was.
There was so much you wanted to say, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, allowing Eddie to sit the pair of you down on the edge of his mattress. He was being far too patient with you, just waiting for you to lead whatever discussion may or may not happen next. Again, you refrained from meeting his eyes, your gaze darting mindlessly around his bedroom.
After a long, tense stretch, you finally asked in a small voice, “Can I use the shower?” Eddie nodded, standing quickly as if he intended to help you to the bathroom, but you held your hands up a little in a tired surrender, “I’m okay.”
Even without looking at him, you knew he was watching you with concern. But he sighed in acceptance, letting you walk past him towards the door, “I’ll get you a change of clothes.”
You couldn’t help the very slight smile that tugged at your lips; despite how awful you felt, you found it amusing to even try to picture yourself wearing whatever silly clothes Eddie brought you. As you closed yourself off in the bathroom, you wondered if he had the same thought.
You spent what was probably an ungodly amount of time in the shower, letting the steam and the heat release everything that you’ve kept pent up from the moment you left your parents in the driveway. You tried to breathe deeply, tried to keep yourself composed, but within the safe confines of the shower, all your emotions began to spill over. Biting down on your thumb to keep your sobs in, you leaned against the wall to stay upright, your body silently wracking as salty tears mixed with the hot water.
Fuck, you couldn’t believe this. How the hell were you going to look Eddie in the eye, knowing that he’d seen the way your family behaved? He probably thought you were all so damn pathetic, so damn dysfunctional. It felt like he was in on a dirty little secret, like it would be the elephant in the room that was impossible to ignore. You were so ashamed of your family as you slowly lowered yourself to the floor, letting the water beat against your back as you tried once more to breathe slowly, steadily. For a second, you thought you may puke again, but your stomach was too empty for anything to come up.
Was it always this bad? You’d be so used to the coldness and the negativity, that you weren’t sure if it had gotten worse or if you were simply becoming more aware of it. If this is how bad it got after only a month, you were nervous to see how much worse it may possibly get as your senior year continued.
Eventually, you dragged yourself out of the shower, your limbs feeling heavy as you grabbed a towel. Your brow knotted then rose in surprise when you saw a small stack of clothes sitting atop the bathroom counter - when the hell did Eddie sneak those in here, and when he did, could he hear you trying not to cry too loud? Your neck grew hot at the thought that he heard your muffled sobs.
Once you were clad in Eddie’s old sweater and pajama pants, you appreciated how comfortable they were, tugging the sleeves down over your hands as if you were a small child. You lingered in the bathroom for a long while, watching as the foggy mirror slowly became clear again, frowning at your frail-looking reflection; you felt a wash of shame, thinking about how unpresentable you must’ve looked all day.
Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and raised your chin high, trying to shake off how feeble you looked. Brushing your wet hair back from your face, you sighed with determination, finally opening the bathroom door.
You ducked into Eddie’s room without even looking in the direction of the living room - you weren’t sure whether or not Wayne was home, but you weren’t quite ready to face other people yet if he was. Eddie must’ve been out there, because his room was empty; you slumped down onto his bed, pulling your knees up under your chin as you leaned back against the wall. Your ears perked at the sound of Eddie’s footsteps approaching the room, and you sat up a little as he stepped through the door, water in hand and a more relaxed look on his face.
You gave him a weak smile, finally able to meet his eyes as he sat next to you. Wordlessly, he offered you the glass of water, opening up his other hand to reveal a couple of painkillers. You accepted them with an appreciative look, taking a long chug from the glass before setting it aside. Your fingers drummed rhythmless atop your knees as you and Eddie stared at one another.
“You okay?” He finally asked, and your face fell a little. You shrugged as if you were unbothered, almost hoping that Eddie would simply accept that response. But he narrowed his eyes at you instead, leaning forward just a little, “You don’t have to lie to me.”
You cocked your head as you studied his features, keeping a false little grin on your lips as you answered quietly, “I’ll be fine.” Eddie hummed, looking away from you for a moment as he worked his jaw, “Are you?”
He gave you a genuine smirk, rolling his eyes fondly, “Aw, you do care.”
Your gaze lit up as your grin spread a little wider, thankful for Eddie’s ability to lighten the mood, to make you smile when you needed it. His eyes twinkled a little at your reaction, although the bouncing of his knee suggested that he was still on edge.
Eddie took a deep breath, looking you up and down thoughtfully, “I know you’re not gonna bear your soul or anything, but… you can talk to me, if you need. I’m a good listener when I want to be.”
You continued to smile keenly, so damn appreciative of him right now. You rested your chin on your knees again, taking him in, “You’re the best fake boyfriend a girl could ask for.”
“Yeah?” He looked as if he were about to laugh, but also as if the statement gave him pause, “You’re not so bad yourself.”
A doubtful look crossed your face as you rolled your eyes and teased, “Liar.”
Eddie turned toward you, crossing his legs on the bed so that his knees rested against your ankles; you glanced down at them for a moment before meeting his gaze again. His expression was furrowed with seriousness, “You know, no one’s come to my defense the way you did back there; you’re pretty ballsy, getting between me and a cop, even if he is your uncle.”
He smiled again in that easy way of his, which effectively kept you at ease. You nudged him lightly with the tip of your toes, eying him through your lashes, “Don’t make it sound so heroic…”
Eddie stared at you long enough that you began to nibble on the inside of your lips, his eyes making you timid. You weren’t sure if he was simply studying you, if he was considering something to say, or if he was waiting for you to speak again. You tried to look unaffected, tried to look as if you’d already moved on from the fight with your family, but you knew that Eddie could see right through all that falseness. These days, he knew you a little too well, but in a way you were grateful for (most of the time) - no one else could see through you quite the way he did.
With a slouch of his shoulders, Eddie caved, shaking his head at you, “Alright, princess, you’re no hero.”
His tone was intentionally unconvincing, daring you to respond. Now, you watched him fidget under your gaze, just as he’d done to you. Sincerity didn’t come easy to you, and you certainly weren’t going to pour your heart out, but you needed to make some effort. For your own sake, you needed Eddie to know that he was appreciated today - you told him to go, but instead he stayed, and that said a lot about his character. The thought of even trying to speak with total honesty made your heart drum nervously.
You opened your mouth, but hesitated for a moment, causing him to raise a curious brow. So, you licked your lips and looked down briefly, saying simply, “Thank you, Eddie.”
He didn’t need you to elaborate, didn’t need you to go down the laundry list of things that you were referring to - the way he held your gaze and nodded back spoke volumes. The weighty look on his face made it clear that he knew you were thanking him for more things than you knew how to list.
Eddie gave an untroubled shrug before relaxing his shoulders, again knowing just the right balance of easiness and seriousness to keep you comfortable, his eyes shining playfully, “Ah, don’t make me sound like a hero, either.”
He reached out and set his hand on one of your knees. his fingers applying slight pressure, although the look on his face suggested it was an impulsive move, something he didn’t intend to do. You both looked between his hand and one another’s faces before he pulled back and stood, turning his back to you for a moment as he looked around his room while rubbing the back of his neck. When he met your eyes again, he grinned easily, nodding his head towards the bedroom door.
“You need anything? We haven’t eaten all day.” You smiled tranquilly, although the nervous energy surrounding Eddie is what really had your attention. To appease him, you gave a small nod, tugging at the sleeves of your sweater while relaxing back against the wall, looking him up and down slowly as if worried you would forget him once he left the room.
“Yeah, let’s eat.” Food was the last thing on your mind right now, but Eddie seemed nearly desperate to make sure you were alright, so you could appease him in this. He gave you one more charming smile as he was about to leave the room, but he came to a pause in the doorway. You watched him expectantly, assuming he had something else to say, but just as quickly as he had stopped he disappeared.
Your stare lingered on the spot he was just in, your face relaxing into a content look. You absentmindedly began to fiddle with your sleeves, your eyes lazily traveling around Eddie’s room, stopping to study band posters or clutter lying around.
You couldn’t help but feel at ease, even as your mind continued reeling over the confrontation with your parents. The whole fiasco was an easier pill to swallow thanks to Eddie and his ability to make you smile or laugh at even the most inopportune moments. And you did just that, grinning affectionately to yourself as your cheeks flushed; a warmth washed over you as you oh-so easily pictured Eddie in your head.
But suddenly that gave you pause, your expression faltering in realization that you were acting giddy over Eddie. You stared blankly at the wall across from you as your heart skipped and your chest felt heavy, exhaling slowly as you grasped what exactly was going through your head at that moment.
You felt foolish and panicked, although that seemed like a completely stupid reaction; you tried to shake yourself of the ridiculous sensation, but your heart just kept drumming rapidly. With a knotted brow, you had to wonder if this had been slowly building and if you’d just been ignoring it. Or were you too dumb to have noticed it before - the easy way you and Eddie could coexist, the shared smiles and glances and laughter, the occasional jolt when you’d bump shoulders or hold hands.
When did all of those little things start to stir something in you? Why did you suddenly have goosebumps breaking out across your arms and legs? You realized your jaw was slack, so you tightly pressed your lips together and shook your head; you ran your hands up and down your legs then along your arms, as if the goosebumps were from being cold and not from the damn epiphany you just had.
You were being ridiculous getting yourself all worked up unnecessarily. But there was no shaking your realization, no ignoring the thought now bombarding your brain. You swallowed your nerves to the best of your ability, shooting a glance towards the door as if fearful you’d be caught doing something wrong. Your foot began to bounce, in need of some way to release this stupid anxiety you were feeling.
But there was no shaking it, no ignoring it, no releasing it. And for whatever reason, that filled you with complete and utter apprehension.
Fuck… You liked Eddie.
.
.
additional a/n: Let the idiots-to-lovers shenanigans commence :)))
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