#you keep it because like she knows money is tight because mom and dad are constantly fighting so he doesn't give her any money at all

[delicatetaysversion]

crying 😃

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]

To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.

A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.

And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.

Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.

Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.

He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.

Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.

Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.

Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.

He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.

“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.

With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.

“You okay, kid?”

The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.

“Huh.”

The kid flinched.

“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”

Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”

“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”

Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.

“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”

“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”

“I also don’t hurt kids.”

“…”

The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.

“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”

“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.

“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”

“…”

Danny waited.

“Peters.”

“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.

“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”

“All of it.”

Peters stared.

Danny shrugged and started looting.

"Y'er so fuckin' weird."

----

See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.

Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.

Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.

Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.

[ataliagold]

If Love Was Contagious I Might Be Immune To It

For @steddie-week day 2, prompts "hands" and "touch starved".

Title from an unreleased Noah Kahan song.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1916

C/W: Referenced death of a grandparent.

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, Steve is touched-starved, Steve has bad parents, platonic soulmates Steve and Robin, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart

Summary: Steve's early life is mostly devoid of love - until Eddie Munson.

___

He’s eight years old, and his wrist is broken.

It’s the first time he’s broken a bone, but it certainly won’t be the last.

Steve cries silently in the school nurse’s room. His father hated it when he cried, always told him to man up, to grow up, to act like a Harrington.

He tried to keep the tears in, he really did, but his arm is throbbing and his wrist is turning a funny colour and he wishes he’d taken Tommy up on his offer to sit with him and wait for his mom to turn up but he’d wanted to be tough, tough like his dad, and he’d told him he wasn’t a baby and he’d be fine.

So, while he loses the battle against the tears cascading down his cheeks, he stays tight-lipped and quiet.

His mom arrives eventually. Steve sits there, clutching his wrist across his stomach as the nurse explains to Janet Harrington what had happened, that Steve had fallen in P.E, that the bone was definitely broken and he needed to go straight to urgent care.

Janet nods. Turns to Steve, expression tight and unreadable, and gestures quickly for him to follow her out to the car.

Steve quickens his pace behind her, little legs carrying him along behind the click-clack of her heels.

He reaches for her hand with his good one.

Knows he shouldn’t, knows he isn’t supposed to keep trying to touch because he’s a big boy now, he doesn’t need to be held and coddled anymore.

But he’s hurting, and he wants his mom.

She tightens her hand around his almost in surprise, squeezing sharply.

“For goodness’ sake, Steve,” she hisses, dropping his hand again like it’s something bad, “do you want all your friends to see you like this? Act your age.”

Steve snatches his hand back to his side. Blinks through the new flood of tears in his eyes, swallows thickly, keeps his gaze on the hard tiled floor.

He’s eight years old, and his mother doesn’t want to hold his hand.

*****

He’s fourteen years old when his grandma dies.

Smoking with Tommy behind the bike shed at the school, they are quieter than usual.

The funeral is this weekend. Steve’s never been to a funeral before.  His mom ordered him a suit the day after they got the news, the reality of it barely sinking in before he was being stood in front of the mirror in the store while a man wrapped a tape around him, taking his measurements while his mom tapped her foot behind him.

He wonders what will happen when his parents go away, now that he can’t go and stay with grandma. He’ll miss her. He’ll miss her like hell.

No more baking, no more helping her plant flowers in her sunny backyard, no more taking slow walks to the park with her little yappy dog.

“Sorry,” Tommy mutters eventually, stomping the butt of his cigarette into the dirt.

“Huh?” Steve asks, not looking up.

“You know. About your grandma.”

“Oh,” Steve waves a hand, cigarette between his fingers. Nonchalant. Unemotional. Harrington. “S’fine, she was just some old lady.”

Tommy sniffs, raises an eyebrow. “It was your grandma, man.”

Steve shrugs, forces a smirk. “Reckon she left me anything in her will?”

He burns as he says it.

He doesn’t want money. Doesn’t want things. He just wants his grandma back.

Tommy snorts out a laugh, shakes his head, punches Steve lightly in the shoulder. “You’re a dick.”

Steve takes a long drag on the cigarette, blows the smoke out towards Tommy’s face. His friend swears and shoulder charges him, wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and the two of them start to wrestle.

Here, with the stench of tobacco on his breath, grunting as he tightens his grip on Tommy and shoves him roughly aside, Steve thinks this is the closest he’s been to a hug for a long time.

A silent tear tracks down his cheek, and Steve wipes it away before Tommy can see it.

He’s fourteen years old, and his best friend would rather punch him than hug him.

*****

He’s seventeen years old and in love with Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy holds his hand, sometimes. She kisses his cheek, smiles shyly when he wraps an arm around her waist, lets him touch.

But only sometimes.

And that’s ok, Steve thinks. He knows he can be too much, that he asks for too much, that ever since he was a little boy all he wanted was for someone to hold him, and now that he’s older, to hold someone in return.

He had to keep that in check. Had to keep his touches few and light – just a brush of his thumb over Nancy’s hand where he wanted to interlock their fingers, where he wanted to squeeze her tight to his chest and burrow his head into her shoulder and turn himself inside out for her.

He dreams about the creature that came out of the wall, sometimes.

Wakes up sweat-drenched with his pulse galloping, feels across the bed for Nancy’s hand because he keeps sneaking into her bedroom at night to sleep because he can’t handle being on his own right now.

She wakes. Holds his hand briefly, tells him it was just a dream, rolls over, lets his hand go. Faces away from him.

Steve tells himself it’s fine. His heart is still pounding, he’s still trembling slightly, but it’s fine.

He wishes Nancy would hold his hand a little longer. Wishes she’d tuck herself closer to him, press her lips to the back of his head, hold him until he’s able to fall asleep again.

But he’s a man now. He’s a Harrington, and he doesn’t need to be held.

Nancy had nightmares sometimes, too.

She’d cry out in her sleep, and Steve would carefully wrap an arm around her, murmur into her ear, tell her she was safe, that he had her.

When Nancy woke, she’d push him away. Tell him she needed to breathe, that she needed some space.

Steve tried to give her space. Tried other ways to try and help Nancy feel better – then came Tina’s party, then came the drink staining Nancy’s top and a cold bathroom and bullshit.

Steve was seventeen years old, and his love was bullshit.

*****

Steve is nineteen years old, and he has the best friend in the entire world.

He and Robin are glued at the hip. She hugs easily, drapes herself across him, nudges him with bony hips and elbows and grabs his hand when the lights at Family Video flicker because she knows that still terrifies him.

Steve’s not used to it.

To having someone reach for him, to pull him into a hug, to voluntarily reach out and touch him like there isn’t something wrong with him.

And so, he never reaches for her first. Always lets her initiate contact, because he never wants to be too much, not like how he was with his mother, with Nancy.

She’s standing next to him at work now. Shuffling through returned tapes, letting out a bored huff, leaning back on her elbows on the counter.

The bell above the Family Video door chimes.

Steve doesn’t look up until Robin pokes him in the ribs, until she waggles her eyebrows at him.

“Look who it is,” she whispers, with zero subtlety.

He doesn’t have to look to know it’s Eddie.

Because they’ve been playing this game for a while, Robin doing her best to bring the two of them together, to nudge them from this painful will-they won’t-they situation into something more serious.

The truth is, Steve’s head over heels for the other man.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that, doesn’t know where to put it, because he doesn’t want to half-ass anything ever again – if he’s going to love Eddie, he wants to do it with everything he has, but everything Steve has always seems to be too much for everyone else.

If he ruins what he and Eddie already have, this easy friendship, it would put a strain on his relationship with the kids too, and everyone had already been through so much, he couldn’t…

“Oh my god, dingus,” Robin groans.

Eddie’s wandered on past the counter after shooting Steve a grin, headed for the sci-fi section tucked away in the corner.

“What?” Steve huffs.

“I can literally see the little cogs turning in there,” Robin flicks her index finger against the side of his head. “For the sake of my sanity, just talk to him. Please.”

“Fine,” Steve harrumphs, tossing a case to one side. “But if this goes badly, I’m blaming you.”

Robin smiles wide, reaches for his hand, squeezes it gently, encouragingly. “Go get him, Stevie.”

Steve is nineteen years old, and he finally has someone to hold his hand, even if not quite in the way he’d been longing for.

*****

Steve is twenty-two years old, and sometimes he’s so overwhelmed by love for this man that it stops him in his tracks.

He’s draped across Eddie, the two of them on the couch with the TV quietly playing something in the background but Steve doesn’t hear it.

His head is on Eddie’s chest, ear pressed to his heart, listening to the soothing rhythm of his boyfriend’s pulse.

Eddie has his arms wrapped tightly around Steve, one hand tracing gently up and down his bare back, fingers tracing over moles and scars and the ridges of his spine.

Steve breathes him in. Presses his head further into Eddie, like he could burrow into him. Wanted to, sometimes.

Eddie’s chest vibrates gently as he chuckles.

“Y’ok there, Stevie?” he asks, and kisses the top of his head.

“Mmmm,” Steve manages, voice muffled by Eddie’s chest.

It had taken him a long time to realize that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere.

In the early days of their relationship, Steve had been…restrained. Muted, afraid to overwhelm the other man, trying to carefully seek out where Eddie’s boundaries were, work out just how long he could hug him for, just how many kisses were too many, when Steve was starting to step over into being too damn much…

Three years later, and he still hadn’t found that boundary.

Eddie took everything Steve had to give him and poured it back tenfold.

He’d smile into Steve’s mouth when he kissed him, run his tongue along the seam of Steve’s lips until he let him in, he’d trace every mole and blemish on his skin with his fingers and then his mouth until Steve was squirming and laughing under him, he’d stroke and hold and squeeze and give and take.

Steve had so much love to give, and Eddie was hungry for it.

They’d been lying here for hours tonight. Skin to skin, Eddie warm and pliant under Steve, humming happily when Steve tightened his hold on him, when Steve’s breath puffed over his collarbone.

“Stevie?” Eddie asks eventually, hand resting in chestnut locks, nails scratching gently over Steve’s scalp.

“Yeah?”

“You ready for bed, sweetheart? You gotta get up early for work.”

Steve sighs, tucks himself back into Eddie’s chest. “Little longer?” he murmurs.

Eddie smiles. Lowers his hand to the back of Steve’s neck, massaging the muscle there, feeling the moment Steve sinks further into him.

“’Course, Stevie. As long as you like.”

Steve is twenty-two years old, and he finally has someone to hold him.

___

[writingroom21]

Girls On Film

pairing: pornstar!Rafe x pornstar!Reader

Summary: Running away from home to become a pornstar was never in your books. Having to move in with some asshole wan't in it either. Surely living in a house with someone you dislike can't be hard. It's just work, that's all it is. Right?

Warining: 18+, smut, fingering, masturbation, oral (m receiving), teasing, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 4.3K

Say Hello To The Camera

The girls around you all seem so confident. All dressed in minimal clothing, caked in makeup, sultry smiles plastered on their faces. You feel out of place, not fully but it feels like you don’t belong there. You’re dressed in a skirt and crop top with minimal makeup, you look more natural. Everyone there seemed like they were made for this life and you were the only one who wasn’t. It was like all eyes were on you, which isn’t something new.

You grew up in a small town, everything you did was broadcasted for the whole town. You learned that at a young age after your dad left your mom for his mistress. It was all anyone could talk about. All the parents were talking about it and then all the kids at school talked about it. Your life was the laughing stock of the town.

From then on your mother made you have a certain image, keeping you on a tight leash. She needed you to be picture perfect so you wouldn’t bring shame to your family. You were never allowed to date, go to parties, or even have sleepovers. That just made everyone at school pick on you more because you were the perfect little girl. You hated being perfect.

Once you hit puberty boys started to notice you and you couldn’t even react. The first time you’ve ever been kissed was when you were playing truth or dare at a party you snuck out to in highschool. Being a horny teenager who’s scared to lose her virginity so as to not disobey her mother is pretty hard. It was also hard to sneak the fact that you eventually did at senior prom. 

You remember having to face you mom late that night. All the questions still clear in your mind. Everything you’ve done was to make her happy, hiding who you were so she would approve of you. All the sneaking around and keeping a low profile is the only thing you really know. So being here is like a culture shock to what you grew up with.

So to say all of this is sort of overwhelming is an understatement. 

The number you were given when you first walked in was called out. Reluctantly you get up and walk over to the person waiting for you. This is what you wanted, you left home to do something that intrigued you. Since you were sixteen you’ve been watching porn. It became a habit for you and slower you started exploring yourself to find out you really like sex. That’s why you moved out of your small town and moved to Charleston. It was the closest porn company to you.

Also a move that you could actually afford, California is too far away and you barely have money. This is what you wanted, so why are you so afraid? The room looks practically sterile. White walls and clean furniture carefully placed in the room. There’s three people sitting at a table watching as you walk in like hawks. Two guys and a girl, then a camera placed directly beside them. The little red light is on, signaling they were already recording.

“What’s your name?” One of the guys asks you. “Oh um.” You tell them your name. Their eyes scan down your body, watching your every move. You stand there perfectly still with a smile on your face. “You know you’re going to have to come up with a name if you get any further in this.” You take a deep breath. “I know.”

They all look at each other, the lady looks at you. “Can you take your clothes off for us sweetie? We want to see what you look like.” Nervously you strip from your clothes. You’re left in a tiny pair of panties that cover nothing. They write down on note pads, taking notes about your appearance. “Why don’t you touch yourself?”

Without a second thought you start to drag your hand slowly on your body. Fingertips skimming your skin to reach your nipples, pinching them between your fingers. For a couple of minutes you play with your breast, giving them a squeeze and pushing them together. Your nipples are hard from all the playing. One of the guy’s mouth drops when you slip your panties off and make your way over to the couch.

Sitting down you spread your legs, exposing yourself to the room. Your left hand spreads your pussy as the right toys with your clit. Moans slip from your lips as you continue to play with yourself, a finger dipping in. You open your eyes and smile at the camera, slipping another finger in. The two fingers scissor you open, curling to give you the best pleasure ever.

The three of them watch in awe as you finger yourself, bringing yourself to the very edge of an orgasm and stopping. Only to continue the cycle once again. By the time you actually cum both of the guys are close to cumming in their pants. The lady’s panties are soaked and she’s not even into girls that way. You were a star in the making.

“So when can you come in next?”

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

“No, I'm not doing it.” The voice on the other end sighs. “Rafe you can’t just ignore this. I’m telling you this girl is different.” Jared, his manager, tries to reason with him. “I’m not going to work with someone who doesn't know how to do anything. Find someone else to do it.” He’s honestly tired of them trying to get him to do castings. This has to be the fourth one he’s turned down. 

It’s always the same thing, Jared calls him and it’s something below his pay grade. “Listen Rafe, you’re good but you need to do this. I don’t know how many times you can keep turning things down before they find another new pretty face. Trust me when I tell you, this girl is something else.” He knows he has to do it. There’s only so many times he can say no to them.

He’s been in the industry for a year and made them a lot of money but that doesn’t mean someone else couldn’t. “How much?” He’s walking around his kitchen opening cabinets to see what he can eat. “$2,000 just to do the screen test. Then you both get 20% of the profits made. Think about it after every $5,000 you would get $1,000. With her, trust me this will make you rich.”

Rafe thinks about it as he opens up a cereal box and takes a handful of it. “I’ll do it but I want 3,000 for just doing it. You know I don’t like working with newbies.” The guy on the other end laughs out loud, the vibrations ringing in his ear. “We’ll see if you still have that attitude after. The shoot is at three so you better get here for two. You should get to know her a little.”

He looks at the clock on the stove and sees that it's twelve already. “Yeah whatever I’ll be there.” Hanging up, he takes another handful of cereal and goes to get ready. He makes sure to wash with extra hot water to be squeaky clean, scrubbing down his body to be as clean as possible. Next he grooms himself by trimming his pubes, leaving them at a good length so they aren’t all over the place.

The whole time he keeps cursing himself for not having in his contract NO CASTINGS. It’s not that he has something against them, it's just he would rather not do them. They’re great to watch, especially when you can tell they are really new to everything. He would rather be on the watching end than the receiving end. The girls just seem to over do it when you’re the one they are with.

Rafe would rather be paired with someone who’s been in the industry long enough to be comfortable on camera, not shy and awkward. He’s frustrated the whole drive there, slamming the car door when he gets out. This is so stupid. He thinks, greeting everyone as he walks by. He walks into the green room where Jared and Liz are waiting for him, but when he enters it's just you.

You’re just sitting there  going through different porn magazines. “Who are you?” His voice scares you. Looking up from the page you meet blue eyes, you tell him your name a bit distracted by him. He has to be one of the cutest guys you’ve ever seen. He’s tall, well built, god his buzz cut is to die for, plus his arms would be good for putting you in a headlock. Overall you would say he’s really fucking hot.

“Oh the new girl right?” A bit nervous about meeting your potential costar you squirm under his gaze. “Um yeah. Are you Rafe?” You’re picking at the skin around your fingers, a nervous habit you’ve gained over the years. Just further proof that Rafe doesn’t want to be here, you’re new. Not just to the industry but to all of it. He’s seen it before with other co-workers.

They get paired with the new girl and boy is she new. Never sucked a dick and sure as hell never been fucked. It’s not hard to spot those types of new girls, they dress differently from the ones who have lost their virginity. Their demeanor is different, you can just tell by looking at them. That’s what Rafe sees as he looks at you. Some little girl who doesn’t even know where pleasure begins or ends. You looked like the embodiment of virginity, pure like the coke he takes. 

He’s going to eat you alive.

“Are you sure you should be here?” The look of confusion on your face is met with his closed off stare. “So you’re not Rafe?” His stare gets more intense. “I am. Are you going to answer my question?” You scoff at him. “Well considering they asked me back, yeah I would say I should be here? Should you? I feel like they have rules about being a dick.” You may have been the nice girl growing up but that's because you were forced to. You are tired of being her and everyone always looking down at you.

“That’s a smart mouth you got there. Hope you know how to use it.” Rafe’s steps echo as he walks to the couch you are sitting on. “Well I hope your dick is not as small as you make it out to be. Would feel bad for the girls you work with.” It’s surprising how quick you are with your comebacks. It’s like you don’t even think before talking back to him.

As he watches you, he sees your leg bouncing just another sign of why you shouldn’t be here. He may like the way you talk back but this isn’t a place for a girl like you. Just as he was about to make a snide remark the door bursts open. Liz walks in first then Jared and finally Micky. “Alright sweetie, figure out a name for us yet?”

All eyes are on you waiting for your response. “Maisy Day.” Rafe wants to laugh at the name, Maisy out of all things? “Sweet and innocent. Great job.” But Micky has a point, it sounds flowery if that even makes sense. It’s like he would find you out in the middle of a field, all innocent waiting for him to ravage you. On second thought maybe he can get used to the idea of this.

“It’s a simple blowjob seen okay. Rafe you will be recording everything on this camera.” Jared places the camera on the table in front of them. “He’s going to be recording you and just try to go with the flow on this one. We want to see how you are behind the camera a bit more and then you’ll get a script.” You shouldn’t be nervous, you’ve seen plenty of these videos, even practiced with the dildo you had.

Now that it’s getting closer to being real it’s scary. “Alright let’s get started.” Like second nature, Rafe picks up the camera and points it at you. The red light turns on after he presses the record button. He’s leaning the lens down, getting you sitting on the couch in the frame. You look so pretty sitting there for him, even prettier when you slide down to your knees.

“Smile at the camera baby. Tell them your names.” Sitting back on your knees looking up at the camera in Rafe’s hand with a smile. “Hi my name’s Maisy and I’m your new wet dream.” You seal it with a kiss and wink towards the lens. The camera picks up your hands as they unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down. Rafe can’t help but get excited when he sees how much you’re ready to suck him off. 

He doesn’t get why he was so upset about having to do this screen test in the first place. Seeing you on your knees for him was enough compensation. He tries to calm the excitement because he still has a chance of being right. You seem good so far but that can only last for so long. “Oh fuck.”

The words slip out before his brain can even catch up. Your tongue licks up from the base to his tip, swirling it around before giving it a kiss. “You like that?” The way you tilt your head slightly is making your head spin. Then your lips wrap around him and give him a nice suction. Whatever can’t fit in your mouth is occupied by your hand. Rafe’s other hand grips a fist full of your hair, helping to guide your movements. 

“Just like that baby. Such a good girl aren’t you?” The moan you let out is muffled by him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure. He’s getting so lost in the moment looking at you from the lens and in person. So lost that he didn’t realize he was thrusting into your mouth or that your hand slipped under your skirt.

Only when you let out a particularly loud moan did he finally realize what you were doing. “Are you rubbing your pussy right now?” Your closed eyes open wide from being caught. “I thought you were a good girl, just a slut in disguise aren’t you? Bet you touch yourself every night to the thought of someone fucking you good.” Your eyes close on instinct as your fingers increase their speed.

You’re matching your strokes to his thrust, trying to feel what he felt. He maybe an asshole but he’s a hot one. You honestly wouldn’t mind fucking him. Rafe looks over his shoulder to see the three of them just watching what is unfolding. The clock right behind them shows that only two minutes had passed and he was ready to blow his load.

Not wanting to be embarrassed of cumming too early he pulls your hair back as his hips retreat from your face. He rubs his dick over your face as you give it open mouthed kisses when you could. “Lay back on the couch.” Your tilting your head again but this time in confusion. “Come on baby. Don’t make me punish you.”

Following his instructions you get up and lay down on your back. He joins you on the couch sitting on his knees between your legs. Lifting your skirt up, he focuses the camera on your pussy, using his fingers to spread you out for everyone to see. “Such a pretty pussy.” He brings the lens back up, positioning it so it catches his tip playing with you.

You squirm under him as he rocks his hips back and forth. The girth on him spreads your lips with each stroke perfectly hitting your clit. He continues like this for a few more minutes, teasing you every step of the way. Giving you a few strokes and almost putting the tip in and backing out. Just when you think he’s going to go past the tip, bury himself deep within you, he just psychs out.

It was driving you all mad. “Please.” The voyeurs in the room don’t know what to do. They told Rafe just a simple blowjob, but this. This doesn’t really feel like they should be here, which is new to them. “Awww the poor baby, can’t take a little teasing.” You whine more at his words. “Shhh it’s okay. You can handle it.” The only sensation you get is from him sliding between your lips. 

He’s trying not to touch anymore of you, afraid that you’ll be burned into his skin forever. You’ve taken him by surprise and he doesn’t like when someone else has control. To him this is his way of overpowering you. He wants to be ingrained in your brain before you run off to fuck someone else. Let’s face it, Jared was right, there is something about you. 

Bringing his right hand down, he places his thumb right under his tip adding pressure to his strokes. With only a few more strokes your mouth drops open, letting out the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard. He couldn’t stop himself from cumming if he wanted to, his hips still moving to milk himself.

He leans back a tiny bit more to catch all of the mess he made of you. Your pussy is covered in his cum, coating you in white film. He spreads it around a little more, marking his territory. “Look at what a mess you are. Tsk. What am I going to do with you?” Eyes track your hand that moves down your body and how the fingers gather some of his cum. His eyes flicker up to yours as you give the camera an angelic smile. 

Blue eyes are trained on your movements, seeing what you’ll do next. What he didn’t expect was for you to wrap your lips around those fingers and hum at the taste. Once the fingers leave your mouth you have him letting out a moan himself. “I’m sorry. I can still be your good girl right?” His moan is involuntary, slipping out before he can fully process your words.

Gathering his cum himself he brings it back to your lips, watching as your tongue licks it up before your lips wrap around his fingers. “Yeah baby you can be my good girl.” As if the fog that clogged his brain cleared his head he realized what happened. He went completely off target and he doesn’t really care. 

Carefully he moves around and turns off the camera, getting up to find something to clean you with. The gentleness is a stark contrast to how he acted with you earlier. Not that you are complaining, it’s nice to think he cares even though he doesn’t know you. Flipping your skirt back down you get up and look at Liz. Her eyes are somewhat wide, looking between the two of you. 

“That.” The voice was squeaky, Micky clears his throat to fix it. “That was wow. Umm great job guys. I’ll take the camera and the two of you are all set.” The three of them leave and it’s just the two of you once again. “Still think I shouldn’t be here?” Rafe’s turns to you at the sound of your voice. “Never said I didn’t.”

You hum at him as you grab your bag. “Didn’t need to. Your question and body language said it all.” Maybe he was actually wrong about you, maybe that good girl act is just an act. He watches as you walk out of the room, blowing him a kiss over your shoulder.

That night when he’s trying to go to bed all he can think about was you.​ The way you looked, smelt, smiled, fuck the way your mouth felt around him. Every painful image flickered through his head like an old film. You were just plastered on the big screen, his very own porno right before his eyes once again. Before he knows it, his hand makes it’s way into his loose sleep pants. He’s hard as a rock just by thinking back to earlier. His orgasm was embarrassingly quick, a new world record honestly.

It didn’t get any better in his sleep. Every dream was about taking you in different positions and shutting your smart mouth up. When he woke up in the morning he was was painfully hard, precum seeping from the tip. He had to get himself off twice just to feel normal again. It still didn’t stop you from infiltrating his mind, plaguing all of his thoughts.

By the time it hit afternoon, he was ready to drive right into a wall to stop the thoughts. Not once has anyone made him such a mess. He’s literally slept with hundreds of girl, what makes you different? He’s seen them all, the really good girls to brats that need to be tammed, yet you are the one who does him in.

He’s honestly thankful that it was just that you two didn’t actually have to sleep together. The thought of that alone is enough to want to make him quit, he would never be the same again after that. But that’s not who he is, he’s Rafe Cameron. Girls are the one’s wo fawn over him and get obsessed not the other way around.

It has been five days since the shoot. He wonders if you are thinking about it as much as he is. If you touch yourself at the thought of him like he’s been doing. It’s a shock he even cares if you are or not. It shouldn’t even matter to him. In the middle of his pity party, his phone vibrates on the couch cushion next to him. He sighs when he sees it’s Jared. Great another casting. “Hello?” 

“Dude you need to get down here as fast as you can.” Jared’s voice isn’t one of anger but more of excitement. “Why?” Rafe feels like this is a trick to get him to go do another casting. He doesn’t have any shoots lined up for a bit since he decided to take a little vacation. They were lucky he even went in last time. “Do you always have to argue with me? Just get down here.”

Reluctantly he gets up and fishes his keys off the hook by the door. The whole ride many scenarios are playing out. One is of him going in and finding out it actually was another casting. Two you reported him for not following the “script” they gave you. Three they decided he isn’t worth dealing with anymore. Every scenario seems worse then the last.

Walking into Jared’s office he’s greeted with the sight of Liz and you. His eyes widen when he sees you look over your shoulder at him. There’s a little smirk that is rubbing him in the wrong way. Ironic considering you seemed good at it the other day. “What’s all of this?” He takes a sear on the chair next to you.

“The two of you are a hit. I mean the number are crazy and it just released.” Did he just hear what he thinks he did? Next to him you are internally freaking out. Just how many people actually saw it? “What?” You both say in unison. Liz sits down on the edge of the desk closer to you. “Sweetie we have a deal for you. We want to sign you on and start you on your first project.” 

You sit up and lean closer to her. “Wait really?” The excitement in your voice is noticeable from a mile away. Rafe stares in confusion. “What does this have to do with me?” Liz and Jared give each other a look. “Well we also have an offer for you.” Jared starts off. “For fucks sake. We want the two of you on this project together. Everyone loved seeingf the of you and it would be a lot of money.” 

“No way.” The words fly out faster than he means it. Your shoot him a death glare. Who does he think he is? “I agree I don’t want to work with some dick.” He slowly turns his head to look at you. “At least I belong here. You probably wouldn’t even last long.” He doesn’t like the smile you are giving him right now. “You would know all about that wouldn’t you? I got you off pretty quick last time and you didn’t even fuck me.” 

The clench of his jaw wasn’t hard to miss. It’s honestly such a shame his personality is awful. The man is attractive but the personality makes it hard to like him. After you got home from the shoot you went straight to the companies website and searched him up. Thousands of videos popped up and each one was screaming for you to watch. You aren’t ashamed to admit that you got off to them a couple of times.

But you are ashamed that you actually want to fuck him. You blame his looks, he’s too hot. This is like all of your fantasies coming to life. “Rafe can you stop being a dick for once. This is going to be huge, think of the money.” He actually stops to think about it, if they are right then he can’t pass it up. “Fine.”

All eyes are on you know, waiting for you to cave in. IF you’re beig honest you only said no because he turned it down automatically. It stung that he didn’t want to work with you. “Okay.” The two managers relax knowing that you both agreed. They whip out the contracts and hand them to you along with a pen. RIght before you could sign Liz says one last thing. “Oh yeah, you also have to live together for this. Now you can sign.”

“WHAT?”

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

I’m tempted to write a sit com style of Limited Life.

It follows the Clockers, a family of a single mom, Cleo Clocker, and her two sons (who we think are adopted) Scar and Bdubs Clocker (who we also swear that those aren’t their real names).

The local biker gang, Bad Boys, Grian, Joel, and Jimmy (who we aren’t sure are related but people speculate Jimmy and Grian are. And that Joel has a wife we don’t see)

The neighbors, Pearl and BigB (of which we think Pearl is Grian’s sister but isn’t confirmed. And is dating BigB to piss off her brother.) who are very nosey and tend to get involved in the family drama because of this.

Their absent dad, Etho Slab (Formerly Clocker), as he causes problems in the families life trying to ‘reconnect’ with his sons. And running a bar with his old college buddies Tango, Skizz, and Impulse. (We think they are in a poly or something. But none of them are straight.)

And the two resort owners, Scott and Martin, well ‘resort’ is an Airbnb they rent out and make great money with. (We think they are in a relationship (?), but Scott acts weird around Jimmy, and Martyn seems to have some weird trauma around Cleo. We aren’t sure why, but something happened.)l

Noted Plot points.

- Grian and Scar used to be a couple when teens, and Grian cheated on Scar with BigB.

- BigB was under the assumption that Scar was into this, and has tried to get Grian to do a threesome.

- Pearl is ‘dating’ BigB because both want to make Grian jealous. (It’s working)

- Scar still has feelings for Grian but also hates his guts. Several times through the series they have hate sex.

- Bdubs has some ‘dad’ trauma. And constantly looking for Etho’s approval.

- Etho only ever liked Bdubs and doesn’t like his eldest son Scar. He thinks Cleo had an affair. (Fans speculate that Scar is adopted)

- Fans speculate Joel has a secret wife that he hides form the Bad Boys and her name is Lizzie. They think she’s Pearl’s best friend or former girlfriend before she got with Joel.

- Gem is Cleo’s girlfriend in this, but people seem to think she’s Cleo’s sister which is confusing as to why.

- Renchanting is a closed down shop after Ren broke up with Martyn and left for a different city.

- The place takes place on a costal town a few miles away from a city. So Beach shenanigans (And Scar in a tight swimsu-)

- Jimmy is always having doubts of being a Bad Boy and seems to have a crush on Tango. (Fans love the angst for this shit).

- Bdubs and Scar have a great brotherly relationship even if they don’t see eye to eye.

- Tango, Impulse, and Skizz all keep trying to get Etho to ‘man up’ and actually be there for his kids. (Or at least Bdubs, Scar is doing fine on his own it seems). While also being bad influences on him for ways he can get Cleo to not hate him.

- they also own a tie shop business on the side of their bar. And no one knows why.

- Fans speculate the family is in a gang or mafia, but aren’t sure what. There is little evidence but it is scary how this little bit shows a darker picture.

- fans also speculate both Scar and Bdubs aren’t Cleo’s or Etho’s kids due to the stupid always changing their ages. Hence the mafia theory.

- both Scar and Bdubs are whores, and so is everyone else. I don’t make the rules.

-0-0-0-0-

This is about all I got for now. But if I come up with more ideas, I’ll let you know.

[zweiginator]

The small town Patrick request you just did was amazing im gonna need you to do a part 2 if you what like they can’t get enough of each other, they’re sneaking around and she feels really guilty about it but she can’t stop. she wants him to properly ask her to be his girlfriend at least because it feels like she’s disappointing god. Idk whatever you feel comfortable with.

after you and patrick make out in his car, there's no stopping. full speed ahead, you keep seeing him. patrick makes fun of you. little stubborn god-fearing church girl sneaking around with patrick zweig. the same patrick who is high half the summer. who watches porn you would be disgusted to know even exists.

it's easy to sneak around with patrick when your father has urged you to continue lessons. patrick refuses his money, so your mother insists he come to dinner once a week, after your second lesson.

so on sundays you go to church and wave sweetly to patrick, the zweig family. you sit politely for the service and patrick and you share glances as you say your prayers. and then you eat lunch and take a shower once you get home. patrick picks you up at 2 on the dot. he drives around and you do practice for thirty or so minutes. but after that--anything is fair game.

you sit on his lap right on the court sometimes. nobody comes around in such a small town. patrick gropes you, pushes his hands under your skirt to tease you. kisses your neck, pulls your hair a little. brushes his lips softly against yours. you just want him to kiss you. he hasn't fucked you yet, you wouldn't allow it.

but how he talks to you makes you feel filthy. like you already have.

"i bet your little pussy is so fucking tight. would feel like heaven."

it makes you squirm on his lap and cars are driving by; it could be anyone, in a town where everyone knows everyone. but he keeps you there. touches you just enough to work you up. he wants you to fold. to yank him towards you and shove your tongue against his. to grind against his palm. you always fold for him.

and then he takes you home at 5. you eat an early dinner and patrick sits across from you. says you're doing such a great job. you're a fast learner. he can't believe you've never done this before. you're not sure what he's referring to. tennis or your sinful foreplay.

but you keep your composure. your father wouldn't allow you to continue lessons if he thought for even a second that patrick was attracted to you or you to him.

so you nod, and patrick compliments your mother's cooking and asks for seconds if he can have them.

after he leaves your mother gushes about him.

"he's really something else." she says, handing you a dish to scrub. "so handsome and polite!"

you choke a little, then nod fervently. "he's very nice."

"you don't think he's handsome?"

it feels like a trick.

"i've never noticed, i guess." a huge lie. you feel pangs of guilt rising, twirling ivies around your veins. "i really like tennis. i think im learning a lot."

your mom retreats. "that's good, honey."

that night patrick asks if you want to sneak out. you say no. and then after 1, you're in his car.

"where are we going?"

patrick takes a drag from his cigarette. you like how his jaw tenses. "to my house. my parents are out of town. visiting family friends before my sister goes to college."

"why didn't you go?" you tear your cuticles.

"i have lessons to teach."

he turns into his driveway. you've never been to his house; it's huge. vast with what seems like a mile long road to get to the house itself.

"what are we doing here?"

you're so innocent. you act like every time is your first.

"just hanging out." patrick gets out of the car.

you're in the kitchen now.

"do you want a drink? a shot?" you're sat on the kitchen island and patrick waves around a bottle of vodka.

"i shouldn't."

"come on. we'll do one together."

"how will you drive me home? my dad would kill you." you cross your arms.

patrick takes his shirt off. you've never seen him shirtless but you gulp. hair peppers his chest and trails down his naval before stopping abruptly at the waistband of his shorts.

"killing me isn't very holy."

"neither is drinking."

"neither is letting me touch your cunt." he pours two shots.

the word sounds vicious coming out of his mouth. you can't take your eyes off of patrick's body.

he hands you one and you clink them together and take them. your face quivers and a shudder rolls down your spine. patrick laughs at you and you feel the liquor down there.

"you feel it?" patrick asks.

you do feel a little tipsy. and you do want him really bad.

you nod and spread your legs. patrick can see your panties from beneath your skirt.

"what are you doing?" patrick stands between your legs, running a finger up your shin.

you shrug.

"i dunno." your face is hot.

"do you ever touch yourself?" patrick bunches your skirt up around your waist. your panties are soaked.

"no."

"you've never had an orgasm?" patrick's thumb runs over your clothed pussy.

you shake your head. your arms are wobbly from holding yourself up.

patrick pushes your panties to the side. he's never really touched you like this.

"this okay?"

no.

"yes." you nod.

you're so wet you're practically dripping. patrick runs a finger through your folds and presses against your clit and you grab onto his shoulder for purchase. you didn't know this really felt that good. because then he's pushing his middle finger into you and it stings but in a way that makes you beg. more, more, more.

"bad fucking girl. letting me fuck your pussy with my fingers."

you moan against his mouth and move forward to kiss him but he moves his head back.

"say it."

you mewl. patrick rubs harder circles over your clit. "say what--" your words are airy.

"say you're a bad girl. ask god to forgive you." his fingers stop moving and you realize he's not going to give you more until you say it.

you start to move your hips but he stops you.

"i'm--" patrick wiggles his fingers, just once. shows you the feeling you're missing so bad. "im a bad girl. please--god, forgive me--"

patrick grabs your jaw and moves his fingers faster and faster. expertly. you try not to think about how many girls he's done this to. it's easy when you feel a weird pit in the bottom of your stomach, blossoming like a dandelion. a weed that shouldn't be there but maybe it's not so bad--and then you feel it. your first orgasm. it has to be.

"patrick--oh my god--" you grind your cunt against his hand and he talks you through it. says you're perfect. says look at you, good girl.

but you're not perfect and you're not good. you feel awful and you need to stop this now.

but patrick is breathing heavy and his hair is sweaty, matted against his forehead. he's hard. so you untie his shorts.

do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

[digitalpup444]

how i view bimbo!reader and princess!reader <3

☆ﾟ･*:.｡.☆

oookaayyyy, so i feel like dove cameron is the perfect example of what i imagine bimbo!reader looks like! i imagine her to be very bratty and high maintenance, always clinging to rafe’s arm in a cute little outfit that shows too much skin. she gets her nails done every two weeks on the dot, using rafe’s money, she always goes for a classic coffin french tip with an ‘R’ on her ring finger for rafe <3

she’s really not afraid to stand up for herself if rafe is next to her to reassure her, but when she’s alone? you bet she is running off crying if someone says something in the slightest mean tone to her.

she comes from money but that wasn’t always the case, a pogue turned kook basically after her dad got a promotion at his lawyer job. her mom is always wondering how her she got to be so ditzy considering that both of her parents are very smart with good jobs as a nurse and lawyer.

she’s very very small, only being about five foot one, which naturally always has her looking up at rafe whenever she’s talking to him.

megan fox is absolutely without a doubt, princess!reader. but to be more specific, megan fox in jennifer’s body. jennifer just captures the perfect, stuck up, bitchy, attitude that princess has towards everyone but jj, of course. she’s unfortunately a kook turned pogue after her single mother had to file for bankruptcy after her dad very recently divorced her, leaving them to live in a shitty trailer in the cut. she essentially joined the pogue gang after sarah, her best friend, introduced her to them after she asked who jj was at a beach party.

after that, princess just couldn’t keep her eyes off the blonde and fell in love with him at every glance. jj was the first to kiss her while they were out drunk and skinny dipping. he always makes sure she gets whatever she wants because she will definitely throw a tantrum over it but he knows how to shut that down real quick if it gets to be too much.

she is very book smart but acts dumb to make her look innocent and naive, which she uses that as an advantage to manipulate people to get what she wants.

princess has a slight kleptomania problem, stealing whatever she can’t afford. it’s where most of her wardrobe came from. she’s not afraid to take what she wants and it has definitely got her in some situations.

her wardrobe consists of pink, white, and basically anything that she finds ‘sexy’ and ‘slutty’. she’s not afraid to show off her body at all. on her relaxing days, she’s usually in a juicy couture tracksuit with a tight fitting tank top on. her shoes of choice are heels to make her seem taller and more intimidating since she’s only five foot four.

[dakotalun]

hi!! I just read both parts to your series ‘You Belong With Me’ and holy shit it’s so good!! I wanted to ask if I could request something maybe?? :)

i was thinkin something where Eddie and a super shy girl are dating. They’re only like three weeks into dating but they love each other so much. Reader’s parents fight a lot (maybe Eddie knows), and she randomly shows up on his trailer doorstep crying one day cause of it…sm fluff plz😭🙏

omg I love this prompt! I wrote this in one day because I simply couldn't stop thinking about it!!

Words: 2.2k

Eddie is the best thing to happen this year. I never thought that I would be dating the town “freak” but here I am. The only thing is that he’s not a freak, well in the ways everyone describes him as he’s not. He’s got a very sweet and loving side to him that if you just gave it time he would show.

It became apparent how much of a caring side he has when I told him about my parents.

“They hate each other! I never understood why the hell they got married in the first place. I mean if two people hate each other so much why be together?” I was ranting and pacing about the most recent argument my parents had.

“Sweets, you gotta calm down, please. Come sit,” Eddie motions for me to sit down on the bed next to him but I keep pacing, there are too many emotions for me to be still right now.

“I can’t calm down, I mean they do this all the time! They act all fine and loving around me but then once they think I’ve gone to bed they rip each other’s throats out. I can’t fucking deal with it anymore!” I can feel the tears welling up at the corner of my eyes, but I refuse to cry over them, over this.

Eddie gets up and stands in my path, “Move,” I look at him waiting but he doesn’t budge, “Eddie move. Please.”

“Nope. Not until you take a deep breath and calm down. This is too much for you right now, you just need to sit with it, trust me. If anyone knows fucked up families it’s me.”

“Don’t say that,” My heart breaks hearing him say stuff like that,  “You didn’t choose for your parents to leave you.”

“And you didn’t choose for yours to hate each other,” He places his hands on my shoulders, “If anything else happens just know that I’m here for you. If they start fighting and you need a place to crash come here, Wayne won’t mind and if he does then I’ll kick him out.”

I laugh at his joke, knowing that he would really do it if it had to be done.

“Okay,” I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him tight, “Thanks Eds. I love you.”

“Love you too honey.”

That was last week. Only last week when Eddie said I could come over any time they were fighting and I didn’t wanna hear it. So when I heard the screams come from down the hall I started getting dressed, but then I stopped. It was only last week. Was it too soon to come over and sleep at his place?

We’ve slept in the same place before but it was merely by accident, either we were watching tv in my living room and we fell asleep or we were cuddling after school and fell asleep. Never was it purposeful, until now.

Another scream comes from my parents room, followed by a crash. I have to leave. I can’t deal with this, so I continue getting dressed and pack a small bag before sneaking out of my room. The worst part is that I can’t even jump out of my window like most teens, I have to actually use the front door if I wanna leave. 

Quietly I open the door to my bedroom and slink out of it as quickly as I can without making noise. Their shouts are louder out here, no cushion protecting my ears now. This also means I can clearly hear what they are yelling about.

“DAVE I HAVE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES BEFORE-” My mom’s voice coes riquseing down the hall.

“AND I’M TELLING YOU THAT I. DON’T. CARE! WE DO NOT HAVE THE MONEY FOR IT AND THERE IS NO WAY TO GET IT!” My dad’s voice follows close behind.

“WHY NOT? IS IT BECAUSE YOU KEEP SPENDING IT ON HOOKERS AND DRUGS? ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK UP THIS FAMILY?!”

“FAMILY? FAMILY? YOU THINK THIS IS A FMAILY? THIS IS TWO HUMANS WHO HAD A KID TOGETHER FAR TOO EARLY AND NOW HAVE TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO TAKE CARE OF IT!” 

It. He referred to me as an it, not a she, or a they, or hell even a he. A fucking it! I’ve been their kid for 17 years now and they can’t even pretend to love me. I guess I was never their kid, I was just a burden for them. Well now they don’t have to worry about me.

I rush towards the steps and out the front door, not caring to be quiet anymore. I can feel the raindrops on my skin as they mix with the ever flowing tears. But I don’t care, I need to get as far away from that hell hole as I can, I need to be somewhere safe. I need Eddie.

---

I’m walking for what feels like hours, the rain now completely soaked through my clothes. My feet and hands are frozen but I can’t turn back now, I’m closer to Eddie’s than I am home anyways.

Walking through this part of town at this time of night was always peaceful, it would help me clear my head of all the things it was holding on to. The pain, anxiety and depression would slowly fade away as I walk, left, right, left, right, left, right. Until there was nothing to think of anymore, nothing to worry about.

Now, as I walk the familiar route to the trailer park, my brain can’t seem to shut up or shut off. The screams and yells from my parents flood every corner of my brain, never letting go. No matter how hard I try to get rid of them, they stick like super glue.

I look up from the sidewalk noticing the world around me getting slightly brighter than it was before. Eddie. My heart flutters at the thought of him, the way I know he will hold me and kiss my forehead. I turn into the trailer park, now only a minute away from the one I love.

I approach the doorstep and before I can knock I take a deep breath hoping it will make it less noticeable that I was crying the whole way here. But it doesn’t.

So I knock anyway. Knock, knock, knock. The sound rings through the small home like a pen dropping in an empty room. There’s shuffling on the other end and then the click of the lock. The door swings open to reveal Wayne, Eddie’s uncle. He’s standing there in his work clothes, one shoe on the other sitting by his recliner.

“Oh honey,” He steps aside and ushers me in, helping me take my coat off, “Did you walk all the way here?”

I nod, not trusting my voice just yet. Eddie calls from the other room, “Who is it? I just ordered pizza so it really shouldn’t be here ye-” He talks as he walks out of his room, cups and plates sitting in his hand.

“Shit.” He rushes over to me and cups my face in his hands, “What happened? What’s going on?” His eyes are frantic and he looks back and forth from me to Wayne, hoping someone will answer.

“My-” My voice cracks as I try to speak so I take a moment to think of what to say, “Parents.” I finally settle on. 

Eddie just nods and pulls me in for a hug, not caring that I’m soaked from head to toe. Wayne finishes putting on his other shoe then walks over to Eddie.

“She can stay as long as she needs, okay? Don’t worry about it. I’ll bring some stuff home after my shift.” Then he pats him on the shoulder and heads out into the pouring rain that you just escaped from.

Eddie keeps holding me while I cry into his chest, wishing that this nightmare of a life was over. As I calm down I can hear him spftly whispering things to me.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe here. I love you so much baby.” The words fill my heart with warmth and happiness that I can’t help but to stop thinking about my parents.

I sadly pull away from Eddie, missing his warmth and look up at him, “Thank you.” My voice is still weak but it’s less strained than before.

“It’s nothing. I told you I’m always here for you, I don’t care when you come over as long as I know you’re safe.” He plants a kiss on my temple, “Can I start a warm bath for you? I don’t want you to catch a cold from these wet clothes.”

This. This is the Eddie everyone needs to see, if they did they would understand him the way I do. This sweet and caring boy who only wants the best for those he loves and cares for. I couldn’t have wished for anyone more perfect than him.

I nod my head and follow him as he leads us to the small bathroom next to his bedroom. He turns the faucet on and tests the temperature before turning back to me.

“I’ll set out some clothes on my bed and here,” He grabs a towel from the hall closet, “Is a towel for when you’re done. I’m just gonna be in the living room, so call if you need anything okay?”

“Thank you.”

“You already said that sweet girl,” A smile spread across his face, showing off his signature dimples.

“I know, but I want you to know that I really mean it,” I give him a quick kiss before he’s heading out into the living room again.

I quickly strip down, tearing the wet clothes from my body with some struggle, before finally getting into the warm water that Eddie prepared. The heat immediately starts to soothe my aching muscles and joints, the feeling bringing a wash of relaxation over me.

I wash myself off and clean my hair with Eddie’s coconut shampoo and conditioner. I always love the smell when he’s fresh out the shower and the scent is the strongest. After I’m thoroughly cleaned I get out and dry myself most of the way, only missing a few spots on my back.

I exit the bathroom and am blasted with a wave of cold air, sending shivers up my spine. I head into Eddie’s room to change and dry my hair. I walk in and notice that he left out his favorite Hellfire short and some grey sweats for me to wear, even if they both are over sized I love the gesture. I throw them on and admire the fit in his mirror before heading out to Eddie in the next room.

“There she is!” Eddie says, opening his arms wide, “How ya feelin’?” I walk over and snuggle up next to him, engulfed in the scent and warmth of him once again.

“Better. Still a little cold though,” I nuzzle further into him, not that there’s much room between us already.

“Well you’re in luck. I looked in the pantry and found some hot cocoa mix and mini marshmallows. I got your mug sittin in the kitchen,” Before I could even try to get it myself Eddie is up and off the couch and in the kitchen warming up my cocoa. He comes back only seconds later with a large mug topped with far too many marshmallows.

“Thank you,” I say as I reach out and grab the mug with both hands. I take a sip and feel as the warm liquid heats me from the inside. “DId you add-”

“Peppermint and cinnamon, yes ma’am. I know what you like,” He winks at me. A blush creeps up my cheeks at the words but I hide my face in the delicious drink before he can see. Eddie turns away from me to grab a nearby blanket and toss it over my shoulders, but he doesn’t go back to his seat.

“Come back! I miss your warmth.”

“Yeah yeah in a minute I gotta put this movie on first,” He’s crouched in front of the tv shuffling through disks and tapes. A minute later he finds the one he was looking for with a triumphant “Here it is, that little bastard.”

I just roll my eyes at him as he sets up the movie. Finally done with that and anything else he might need to do, Eddie slides in next to me and cuddles in the blanket as well. We watch as the screen brightens and the opening scene of my favorite movie starts to play.

“Wait, how did you?” I look between the tv and the man next to me, who just has a smile on his face as he looks at my shocked expression. “I bought it a while ago, figured you’d be over a lot so I might as well start making it more homey for you.”

I am in too much shock to utter any words so I opt for smothering him in kisses instead. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me and I can’t imagine anyone else sitting here next to me other than Eddie. We both burst out laughing before settling down and watching the movie before both of us drift off to sleep.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27

[pablitogavii]

Hello,

if you haven’t done it yet. Can I request gavi x reader who has daddy issues, not in a sexual way. But like reader told Gavi that she has some issues with her dad and after that Gavi started telling her how proud he is of her and praising reader and one day reader come back in home in crying from a dinner with her parents because she argued with her dad and he just takes care of her like she was a baby. (I don't know if it's understandable)

Thank you if you write my request and if not thank you anyway. :))



His Perfect Girl

I do warn you that there will be slight angst and reader's father being an alcoholic.

Your father isn't really your favorite topic...if anything it's one of those things that hurts too much to talk about.

You still remember the times he was your "dad" and not your "father". It was the time before the alcohol changed that man into beast and you were left to pick up the pieces.

"You're so soft amor.." Pablo smiled when you nuzzled you face into your boyfriend's neck blushing at his kind compliment.

"Which one do you want to watch princesa??" he said scrolling through Netflix happy that he always let's you chose even though you always like the typical girly romantic comedies.

"Hmm this one?" you say looking up at him with big eyes and he smiled clicking play and kissing the top of your head lovingly while gently moving his fingers through your curls.

"You're lucky I love you so much preciosa.." he said and you nodded your head kissing his neck cause you were too lazy to get up and kiss his lips.

"Sorry to interrupt, hermano..but it's for Y/n" Aurora walked in with the home phone and you sat up taking it from her hearing your mom's crying voice on the other line. Damn it!

"I'm sorry mom..It's on silent mode..um yeah..I'll come..no worries!" you spoke while Pablo gently caressed your leg becoming worried when he saw your scared face.

It wasn't the first time something like this would happen..you would spend time with him only to receive a call that your dad was acting out again. You would go and be there for your mom like always.

Pablo hated that you needed to go through this..and he felt horrible that he couldn't help in any way. It wasn't his place..but you were his girl..so he felt responsible when he saw you suffering because of it.

"I'm sorry Pablito..um..I have to go" you already had tears in your eyes as you gave the phone to him and got up from the bed putting one of his hoodies on and your shoes.

"Amor.." Pablo said making you turn around and he stood up walking to you and snaking his arms around your waist pulling you into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry you have to go through this.." he said wanting to just keep holding you and protect you from all of this crap. He kissed your head lovingly before letting you go spending the rest of the night worried and unable to fall asleep.

A few days later, Pablo was going to pick you up to take you to Camp Nou for his first game of the season and when he approached the door he heard yelling.

"But dad, I got into the college..I got a full ride too" your voice was so small and Pablo knew you were only seeking his approval. His poor girl!

"I'm not wasting money on your college! Why don't you get your milioner boyfriend to pay!?" man said and Pablo felt sick knocking because he couldn't hear any more. He just wanted to get you out of there.

You opened rubbing your eyes faking a smile like always because you didn't want to worry Pablo about anything. He had a game to focus on and this should be the last thing on his mind.

"I'll be right out cariño" you kiss him quickly before rushing to grab your backpack while Pablo smiled seeing his name flashing on your back.

You were in the car and Pablo was driving when suddenly his hand took yours and he kissed it softly. You looked at him wondering what he did that for so suddenly definitely not complaining.

"I'm so proud of you for getting into college mi amor.." he said and you gulped feeling your eyes fill with tears after hearing those words..you craved to hear them for so long and it meant everything.

"T..thank..you..Pablo" your voice was cracking and Pablo felt his heart shatter that it took your boyfriend to hear such words..he wanted to keep saying them for years just to make you believe them.

"You're my perfect girl..you work so hard..and you're always there for everyone..I can't begin to explain how special you are..and how lucky I am to call you mine" he finished and a tear escaped your eye but you dried it quickly.

"You're gonna make us both cry Pablito! Stop it! It's game day and I want to cheer for my man!" you giggled although you wanted to break down and he smiled nodding his head and kissing your hand again while parking his car.

It was the middle of the night when your dad really crossed the line slapping your mom in front of your eyes and starting to shatter everything around the house. There was no stopping him and you did all you could in that moment, you called for help..

"Amor? What time is it??" Pablo's phone was groggy from sleep and you were fighting at urge to cry out staying quiet while hiding in your room.

"P..Pablo..please come..I..um..I need your help" you were whispering and Pablo was already on his feet getting dressed quickly and hopping into his car.

He kept knocking until you opened and suddenly both of you were face to face with your dad.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house!?" man's voice was barely comprehensible from how drunk he was right now and Pablo wrapped his strong arm around your waist pulling you behind him.

"Sir, you've drank too much and it would be the best if you went to bed" Pablo kept calm and your dad started laughing maniacally throwing the empty beer bottle and making you jump in fead holding onto Pablo for dear life.

"Who do you think you are kid!? Coming to MY house to tell ME what to do!?" your dad was knowing for his aggression when he drinks but tonight you were more scared than ever that he might actually attack Pablo.

"Sir, please..don't do this in front of your wife and daughter" Pablo said and you saw your mom walk from the living room holding a napkin to her bloody nose.

"Jake, please let's just get you to bed.." she tried to reason with him to but there was no use.

"You shut up! Fucking bitch!" he yelled turning towards her and she flinched when he started walking but he didn't make it far until Gavi pulled him back. That's when all the hell broke loose.

You dad threw a first punch and Pablo quickly got to his feet pushing on top of him and then there was no way to say who hit who while your mom and you screamed.

"Just because you fuck her kid that doesn't mean you tell me how to treat her!" your dad spat and you could tell that really got Pablo angry as he held him by the collar.

"You disgusting hijo de puta! She's your daughter! You're supposed to protect her not be the one she's scared of! You're supposed to say how proud you are of her accomplishments and to always be there when she needs you!" Pablo's words made you cry into your mother's arms until your dad forcefully pushed him of and got on top of him.

"No..no..no! Please stop! Dad! NO!" you were starting to panic your vision blurred when you saw Pablo pushing your father off and preceding to hit him.

"STOP PABLO!" you screamed curling up in the ball and shaking violently with your mom trying to calm you down. Your cry seemed to sober Pablo up who rushed to your side holding you tightly completely forgetting about your useless father.

"I'm sorry princesa..it's alright..I'll take you and your mom to my house..everything is going to be alright" Pablo was crying too never wanting you to see him violent like that but things just spun out of control.

"Vamos Mrs. Y/l/n.." Pablo helped her stand up before grabbing your from the floor and carrying you bridal style towards his car while your dad was still laying on the floor.

When you arrived to Pablo's house, his parents helped your mom while he took you to his room and placed you on his bed. You were crying and avoiding his eyes and that hurt him so much..were you scared of him now too??

"Amor..please look at me?" his voice was broken and when your eyes met again you were both crying.

"I'm sorry..so sorry princesa..I never wanted you to see me like that..I am not a man like that..I would never hurt you..I need to know that you know that?" Pablo spoke and you quickly moved closer holding his face and kissing his lips which made him relax in your hold.

"Of course I know Pablito..you were protecting me and my mom..I just..I was so overwhelmed and scared he will hurt you" you said and he laid your head onto his shoulder kissing on top of it while laying back with you in his arms.

"Shh I'm alright..and you will be too..I want you to stay with me princesa?" Pablo said and you wee sobered up quickly looking up at him with big eyes.

"W..what??" you said and he smiled nodding his head.

"I am moving to an apartment in a week and I want you to come live with me? It's the only way I will know you are safe..and we would have our home" he said and you were crying unsure of what to answer.

"Um..Pablo..I don't know what to say.." you say while he played with your hair gently kissing your head again.

"Just that you will make me the luckiest man and come live with me..let me protect you..and show you how a real man takes care of a woman?" he said and you smiled knowing that you can fully trust Pablo to take care of you.

"Are you sure Pablito?" you ask knowing that you wouldn't be able to handle getting comfortable with him only to have him leave too.

"Yes, princesa. Don't be scared..because I won't leave..I promise" he speaks gently and you smile that he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

"And if we fight?" you ask looking up at him and he take his time to think before answering.

"Then we fight but let's make one rule right now, we never go to bed angry, okay??" he says and you smiled nodding your head and leaning in to kiss his lips while he holding your face in his hands.

"O..okay.." you say while he brushed your happy tears. His special girl!

"Okay? So that's a yes princesa?" he says in excitement and you giggle nodding your head while he kissed your lips again. Just then, Aurora opened the door of Pablo's room.

"Impeccable timing Rora!" Pablo groaned and his sister rolled her eyes at her younger brother before turning towards you.

"Your mom will stay with us for awhile at least until she files the divorce papers..then she will go to your grandma's old apartment in Sevilla" Aurora explained and you nodded proud of your mom for finally accepting the truth. You were a little worried how she will be able to live without you if you Stayed in Barcelona with Pablo.

"I don't want you to worry hermanita. Me and Javi are both in Sevilla most of our time, and we will check up on her often. And you can always come when Pablito is traveling?" he says and you smiled nodding your head holding onto Pablo's hand tightly.

"Everything is going to be alright, princesa..I'm right here" he says and you smile nodding your head and thanking both of them for all their help.

And since you and Pablo started living together, he always made sure to baby you and make sure you feel heard and supported.

"Here's your lunch amor" you gave him the plate of food and he pulled you close kissing your forehead.

"Thank you, little one! You've worked so hard, maybe we both need nap time huh?" he said and you blushed nodding your head and napping on his shoulder while he ate.

Whenever the thoughts of your dad returned, you would get very quiet and Pablo always noticed that.

"Goodnight baby, I love you" he said before bed pulling you close so that your back is glued to his chest as he spoons you.

"Love you" you said shortly but from your voice he could tell something was wrong.

"What's wrong with you amor?" he said and you sighed

"I'll be okay..." you answer but he turns you around to face him and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

"Thant's not what I asked you princesa.." he answers and you would spend the night talking through your fears together. He was always so patient and a really good listener.

And when he is away, and you're with your mom he would always facetime you before bed no matter the time difference.

"I want to feel you baby.." he sighed and your eyes sparkled looking at his handsome face on the screen.

"I miss you so much" you answer blushing a little at his infamous smirk.

"You're all mine when I get home" he said and you sushed him making you both giggle before you started yawning.

"Get some rest, princesa. I'll be here until you fall asleep" he said and you smiled closing your eyes and just listening to his soothing voice.

I really hope you like it anon <3

[faust-the-enjoyer]

Penelope

-Tags/warnings: gn!reader, death mention, mentions of minor character death (family), crying, fluff, slight angst?, hurt/comfort.

A/n: ngl i got emotional when i wrote this because goddamn.

-Divider by: @/cafekitsune

"Do you think they liked me?", you ask Keegan sheepishly, you two had just gotten into the car after meeting his family, "Are you kidding me? They loved you baby, don't worry." He puts a his hand gently on your thigh as he drives, and after a while of chatting about his family, he pulls out his wallet with one hand, "Here, take this and look at the photos.", you take the wallet with a curious look, inside, you saw pictures of him and his mother, father, brother, and sister, the folks that you met today, until you looked at the last photo, "Who's this?", you turn the photo to him, it's a picture of him when he was about ten, sitting next to an elderly woman with long, black and grey hair. "My grandma, Penelope.", your face softens as you look back at the photo, he's sitting next to her, a little shovel in his hand and some dirt on his knees, while she's smiling at the camera, holding some book. You smile a little, "Aw, Keegan...".

As you kept looking at the photo, he started talking, almost in a nostalgic trance, "I used to dig little holes for her flowers in the backyard of her house, I waited to do it every spring.", you look over at him quietly as you put the photo back in his wallet, "How is she now?", you ask him, curious as to why he's never brought her up. "...She passed away years ago, in her sleep.". You're screaming at yourself in the back of your mind, no wonder he never brought her up!!! "I'm so sorry, I didn-", "It's ok, it's fine...", he chuckled lightly, extending his hand out to take his wallet. "You know...that "P" in my name, my middle name, it stands for her name, "Keegan Penelope Russ", my parents loved her to death...and I did too...I still do." You lean back in your seat, eyes softening at his words, "What was she like? Tell me a little about her...".

He sighs, putting his hand on your lap and holding your hand, "She was the sweetest, always took care of everyone, always wanted the best for everyone, she was always there for my mom and dad, and for me as well,", he chuckles, "she always snuck some money into my pockets whenever I visited, told me to not tell mom and dad...always...always put band-aids on my cuts when I played too rough in the park....always told me to take care of my parents and my friends...", he squeezes your hand gently, "She was a smart woman, knew her way around things that made my head spin even as a late teen...". You look over at him, smiling "I think she'd be proud of you today...", he chuckles, "I hope...I hope...but I know she definitely wouldn't be proud of my driving skills." You roll your eyes at him and chuckle.

"I....I want you to meet her, alright?", you shoot him a slightly confused look, "Meet her?...oh....ok, yeah!". After an almost seven-minute drive, he drove into a cemetery, and parked his car, leaving through his side and helping you out. He held your hand the whole way you two walked to find her tombstone, squeezing it every now and then. "There she is.", as you two walked closer, you saw thet the tombstone was decorated with some flowers, a sign that someone remembered her, missed her, and visited her. When you two stood in front of her tombstone, Keegan's arm went around your waist, holding you tight as he looked down at the flowers, silence filling the air, you didn't want to talk, felt like it wasn't your turn yet. You looked at her tombstone as well, noticing the small carvings of roses on the tablet, and the words "A Sister to All." written under her name and date of birth and death.

Your attention is directed to something else from the sound of a sniffle, and you quickly turn your head to Keegan, eyes full of tears threatening to roll down his face, cheeks red, and his jaw clenched, he was keeping it in. You lay your hand on top of his on your waist, and you rub his back with your other hand, "It's ok baby, just let it out, you're here now.", he tried to keep it all in his chest, cleaning his throat and wiping at his teary eyes, but he couldn't hold onto his feelings any longer, slowly giving in to quietly sob in your arms. He looked at the tombstone while sobbing quietly, "I miss you, God I miss you so much grandma, I miss you so fucking much...I miss when you told me stories about your childhood, I miss when you sat me on your lap and combed my hair, I miss when I used to help you with your garden....I miss you....I love you...". You couldn't handle his words, you can only imagine how much love she gave him and his family during her time alive, and you too had tears in your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your hand up and down his back as he calmed down a little afterwards.

You wiped your tears as he wiped his as well, sniffling a little as you held him close, he finally spoke, voice a little hoarse, "I think she would have loved you, I know she would have.". You smile at him, pulling him into a tight hug as he finally calmed down, resting his head on your shoulder and closing his eyes, taking in the sound of the wind, the almost unnoticeable scrap of leaves on some of the tombstones, the smell of your perfume, your soft yet tight hold on him. "Why don't we go home sweetheart?...I'll... make you one of the recipes she used to make me, and we can watch whatever movie you want, just don't choose "Entrapment" again, please.", you hold in your laugh, he was just trying to lighten up the mood after all, but laughing in a cemetery felt a little wrong. Though you two did go home to have dinner, and he made you some vegetable stew, after you two did end up watching a movie, it was of course "Entrapment".

-Tags: @milkteaarttime

[carolmunson]

baby, as if (the flashbacks)

the flashbacks: part one. baby as if: masterlist (read with caution.) i looked at that poll and i said 'absolutley not, you'll take what i give you.' jk, but i realized it'll just be easier for me if i take this a few chunks at a time, so i give you the beginning of 'the flashbacks'. here, you'll see eight, six, and five and a half years ago. a little entry way into how reader and (not so) f!boy eddie met and started getting involved. tw: 18+, oral (f recieving), not much in terms of tws for this entry, discussions of drugs and drug dealing -- otherwise pretty fluffy. our timeframe setting starts out in 2007-ish. (take all actual year timelines with a grain of salt, i just like incorporating the early aughts into shit.) but here we go, i give you the beginning of baby as if: the flashbacks.

8 Years Ago You didn't really know each other when he started working at the shop. Your dad had mentioned 'my daughter' in passing, but you didn't go to Hawkins High or middle, you went to the highschool in the next town over using your aunts address because it was a better school. Your parents didn't want you to end up stuck like them, but you'd already beaten them by not getting pregnant at nineteen. He knew you went to college in Fort Wayne to study English -- he thought that was stupid since you spoke English already. Why would you have to spend all that money to study it? That didn't make sense to him.

He did know your little brother, Beau, often found small and sugar high at the end of a long day at kindergarten being dropped at the shop by your mom so she could take more clients at night in the salon. Eddie would take the morning shift on cars and then the afternoon shift as a baby sitter until the shop closed at 5:30. He'd take that time to teach him how to read -- but only the best books. He started with the Hobbit and went from there.

On one particular hot summer night, your mom didn't come by to drop off your brother which made sense since it was the summertime -- but he still heard the pitter patter of his light up sneakers against the concrete floor.

"Beau, don't run please!"

He hadn't heard that voice before, it wasn't nearly as nicotine soaked as your mom's or your aunt's. Eddie feels the slam of a tiny skull against his mid thigh and looks down to see Beau looking up at him with his big baby eyes.

"Hi," Beau says -- breathless in the way little kids are when they run or take a big gulp of water. He reaches up at him with his arms over his head, "I didn't wanna go home yet so I asked sissy if she could take me here after camp."

"Sissy?" Eddie asks with a quirk of his brow, hoisting him up onto his hip, "You're gettin' big dude, I don't know if I can keep pickin' you up."

"My sissy," he says, pointing over to the office your dad normally spent the afternoons in, but there you were right outside of it. Summer sun soaked, shorts tight over your thighs, run down sneakers and an old weathered sweatshirt completed your look. Eddie gulped at the sight of you but you were too preoccupied with your phone to pay attention.

"Mumma, can you tell Eddie about the dragon I saw at the zoo?" Beau asked, shimmying down Eddie's body to get back down on the floor to run to you.

"Okay kid, is she your sister or is she your mom?" Eddie asked, trying to hide confusion and surprised. You look up at him with a gaze that immediately makes him feel stupid, but intruiged.

"Ew, no, I'm definitely his sister," you answer while snapping your phone closed, hand falling onto Beau's head, "Can you guess which one of us was the mistake?"

Your playful grin makes him laugh, "Sorry, he called you mom so -- I just didn't know."

"Don't worry -- it's sorta like when you accidentally call your teacher 'mom' when you're a kid. He just gets confused," you shrug and introduce yourself before asking, "What's your name?"

"I'm Eddie. I uh --"

"Oh! You watch Beau when he's out of school!" you interrupt, "He talks about you all the time."

"You're not telling him about the dragon, sissy," Beau whines and squirms, "I seen a dragon today."

"You saw a dragon today, B," Eddie corrects, "I saw, not I seen."

"Still seen one," Beau crosses and uncrosses his arms with a dramatic eye roll, already bored with the conversation enough to scurry over to another co-worker.

"He saw a bearded dragon lizard at the zoo today," you smile.

"I swear he's five going on fifteen with all that attitude," Eddie says with an exasperated sigh through puffed out cheeks, "Gives me a run for my money..."

You laugh a little out of your nose and flip your phone open, he's stunned at how fast you text. Your thumbs flying over the keyboard of your Sidekick iD. All he had was some Nokia burner from Rick and an iPod he stole at the gym.

"Uh, your dad's in there, by the way. Like, you can just go in," he says. His coverall feels too hot and scratchy, noticibly concious of how much is pools around his sinewy frame. He doesn't look like a man the way the other guys who work here do, he doesn't really feel like one either. Too soft. Too gentle. Even when he was lugging around tires and getting into fights at The Hideout.

"He's on the phone," you scrunch your nose while you point at the door, keys in your hand jingling. He thinks about what you'd do if he reached forward and tapped his finger on it. If he traced down the bridge gently. You look so touchable.

"How come I've never seen you around before? I've been here like, almost a year," he says, running the rag that was over his shoulder through his hands to occupy himself.

"I'm not around a lot, normally in Fort Wayne 'cause I go to school there. I stay with a friend and work at the school over the summer to make some money," you explain, "Trying to save up for my own place."

"Oh, cool," he nods, swallowing the disappointment in his tone. Of course you don't want to stick around this shit hole town. You have better things to do. You're literally in college.

"What's your SN? I'll add you to my buddy list and tell you all the weird shit Beau says this weekend," you giggle.

"What's an SN?" Eddie asks, throat running dry. Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to make fun of him or something? "SN? Your screen name?" you reply, cocking your head when he still doesn't know what you mean, "Like your AIM screen name?"

"Oh!" he says, embarrassment continuing to creep up on him, "Like, on the computer? We um -- I don't have one at home so I never really signed up for it."

"Oh," you say softly, nodding, "Um, well like, what's your number then? Gotta keep up with Beau's replacement older sibling."

He internally gags when you refer to him as your replacement. Did you already put him in that catergory? The friendzone? That's what they called it at the comic book store when they had their D&D nights and just talked about girls.

"Here," you say, handing the phone out to him with the 'New Contact' page up. He takes it, albiet shakily, unsure if Rick would want him to be giving out his number to just anyone -- but you're so cute and girls never ask for his number. Not even after they hook up with him in his van outside of the bar. Rick would understand.

"Thanks, it's saved under Eddie M," he replies sheepishly, "In case you know any other Eddies."

"I don't," you smile, "But I'll keep the M."

The door to the office opens and your dad appears, tired and disheveled but glad to see you.

"Hey kid, where's the gremlin?" he asks you gruffly.

"I don't know, probably doing something illegal," you shrug, but the pitter patter of light up sneakers on concrete starts up again across the garage.

"Let's go, buddy," he says while Beau leaps up into his arms.

"That was a big jump dude. What, are you half spider monkey or something?" Eddie teases.

"We saw them at the zoo, today!" he calls out, before turning to his dad, "And I also saw a dragon."

"That's very cool, you'll have to draw me a picture when we get home," he says with a nod before putting his attention on Eddie.

"I'm gonna head out, but are you good to lock up here with Mark?"

"Yeah, for sure," Eddie nods. A smile spreads across his lips, maybe you'll think he's important or something, "It was um...it was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," you say softly while you head toward the door with your dad. He tries not to look, but there's something about the way your cut off shorts hug your ass that has heat rushing to his cheeks.

You turn back as the door is about to close behind you and grin, "I was the mistake, by the way. I'll shoot you a text after nine!"

You do text him after nine.

'heyyy. how r u? :)'

No one ever really asks.

Six Years Ago

He didn't mean to fall for you, but how could he not? Your weekly to bi-weekly phone calls during your senior year of college were all he looked forward to. Outside of pay day and parties at Rick's. And D&D campaigns. And shows at The Hideout. You were up there, you were top ten. He swore it. 

He knew when you came home for winter break last year, helping your parents bring Beau to swimming lessons and indoor soccer. It started with small, yearning, glances when your daddy would invite him home for dinner, or you'd drop off lunch for the guys. Soft little flicks of brown eyes from under envious full lashes to watch you watching him, leaning over his work bench to ask him a question for your dad. Watching you live your life in your family’s small house while he ate brisket and showed Beau how to do shading in his coloring books. He nearly died when you grabbed his hand in the kitchen, manicured nails dancing over the new burnished silver jewelry on his fingers and asked, ‘Are these new rings? Where’d you get them?’ 

He'd survey you while you helped your brother with his math homework when your mom was busy with her fourth haircut that night -- your aunt who wouldn't pay her and your dad too burnt out to do anything but drink in front of the TV in his recliner. 

"Oh, no, that's not right," Eddie pipes up gently. You looked up at the sound of his words, sitting across the kitchen table while you stood over your brother's shoulder. 

Eddie blushes, scrunching into his shoulders, "Sorry, sorry, it's just, you're a little off -- when you're converting ounces to pounds you--" 

"I don't need you to teach him about grams, ounces, and pounds, Munson," you say softly, a little giggle escaping your chest. He flushes deeper than before, "I think he's a little young for that." Everyone knew what Eddie did on the side, it didn’t take much to find out what he always had hidden away in his beat up backpack. Your daddy said that it taught him good entrepreneurial skills and as long as he wasn’t getting into trouble or selling to kids, he was fine to work at the shop until the cops came knocking – and they never did. 

"Sorry, I just -- Just because it says 5 doesn't mean it's a half pound. 5 ounces isn't a half pound, it's like a 'gotcha' question," he explains. Your brother's eyes are glued to Eddie, his cool rings and long hair, his leather jacket, the soft stubble on his chin. Eddie was the coolest guy your brother had ever met, so if it meant he had to learn weight conversion from a drug dealer, then so be it. He'd listen to him before he’d listen to you. 

"How many ounces are in a pound, bud?" he asks. 

"Sixteen," your brother replies. 

"What's half of sixteen?" 

"Eight." 

"You're so sharp, dude," Ed encourages, "You should skip second grade, for real."

"So even though it says point five, it's actually eight ounces? Not five ounces?" your brother asks, pencil tracing over the question on his work sheet. 

"Exactly," Eddie grins, "See, you get it." 

He meets your eyes for your approval and when you nod, running a hand over your little brother's head comfortingly, he has to hide the giddiness on his face in his hands. 

"How come Eddie's good at math and you're not?" your brother asks. You laugh, Eddie's snort comes out from behind his hands, dancing through his silver rings. 

"I haven't taken a math class in a while, Eddie does math every day," you say, like a kindergarten teacher trying to explain bomb drills. 

"How come?" 

"Oh, um," you look at Eddie, his flushed cheeks and boyish smile, "He's just -- Eddie's really smart."

You stayed out in Fort Wayne for six months after graduation until your mom got let go at the salon. 'Making room for new talent', they'd said. She'd developed joint pain, recurring carpal tunnel -- she couldn't do as much as she used to. So, like every good first born, you moved back home to help out -- taking whatever job you could find. At first it felt bad to be back in your childhood bedroom, forced back into the mundanity of the world around you. The embarrassment of running into people you knew at the mall or getting gas. But at least one thing was fine, you got to see Eddie -- and he was kind of exciting. Way more exciting than your job at the diner you picked up back in May. It worked out fine, you guess. You'd have mornings off some days to take Beau to school and to soccer, or baseball, or whatever sport he was into that season. Your mom would do hair in the kitchen for the older ladies -- roller sets, perms, colors. She could take her time with them, they had no rush. Then you'd leave for the diner when Beau came home and your mama would take more clients in the evening. Your daddy would be home at five thirty to take on the heat. 

Things were easier on your parents when Eddie started coming around to keep Beau occupied. The second grader had a lot of energy, even after sports practice or game days. Eddie's personality matched his in intensity -- always finding new ways to keep him engaged in his homework, in his reading, in the way he navigated the world. Beau was at a fourth grade reading level by the end of the school year and whipping through math like he was born to know it. Your daddy started taking Eddie to boxing matches and monster truck shows with Beau. Your daddy started to forget you were there, too. 

Except when Eddie’s big brown eyes started to linger a little too long at you one night when you were at work.

“Munson, I’m old. I’m not stupid,” your dad’s voice grumbles like a bad engine when he talks, “You wanna ask my daughter on a date, don’t you?” 

Eddie sputters into his orange soda, smattering it onto Beau who throws into a fit of giggles. 

“Uh – what?” he gasps, “Sir, I – excuse me?” 

“I see how you’ve been lookin’ at her since you saw her two summers ago,” he shakes his head, coughing a cigarette cough into his fist, “You’ve got the most love sick eyes I’ve ever seen.” 

Eddie can’t help the blush that grows in his cheeks, “Sir, I dunno about that.”  “Everyone knows you have a huge crush on sissy, Ed,” Beau says matter of factly, taking a big gulp of his chocolate milk. Ed reaches for the cup as he goes for a second gulp and eases it out of his hands. “Slow down, kid,” he huffs, “And gross, dude. Girls have cooties.” 

“Sissy has her cooties shot,” Beau shrugged, “She told me when I said there’s no way you liked her, ‘cause girls have cooties.” “Did sissy ask if I told you I liked her?” Eddie asks with a smile. Beau smirks and giggles, tiny teeth shining back at his dad – he’s a troublemaker but he’s no good at keeping secrets. Your dad smirks into his coffee mug, too.

“Did she ask you if I liked her?” Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest when your dad nods at his question. 

“Did um – did she say if she liked me?” he stammers out. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to squeeze out any remaining moisture as he saw you walk out of the kitchen to one of your tables. Two regulars, construction guys -- Bryan and Charlie, always come in at the same time and always tip big cause they think you're pretty. Eddie hates that he hates when you talk about them -- you aren't his, it shouldn't make him so upset. He smiles to himself for a minute when you press a hand to your lower back, scrunching your face in pain. He can tell it’s because you always pop your hip to one side when you take an order. 

“She might’ve mentioned something,” your dad shrugs, “But I asked you a question, kid.” 

The sticky heat from outside flows in through the door and into his chest, “Am I allowed to ask her on a date?” 

“She’s twenny-two, she can do what she wants,” he laughs, “Just don’t have her coming home in a cop car and you got my blessing.” 

“I promise I won’t have her come home in a cop car,” he breathes out. His excitement outweighs his embarrassment when you come over to the table. To him, your diner dress fits you just right. To you and your dad, you wished it was a little looser. He swallows hard when you plop your hands on the linoleum and lean forward on your palms. Your manicured nails click on the plastic when you drum them a few times, the pen in your hand shines.

“Anything else I can get you boys?” you ask with a smile. 

“I think we’re heading out, pum’kin,” your dad’s jagged grin shines through his eyes while Beau crawls over Eddie to get out of the booth, “Gotta take this rugrat to the movies for his friend’s birthday party.” 

“But um,” your dad chuckles while he stands up, stretching a bit before adjusting his biker vest, “I think Ed’s gonna stick around. Said he had somethin’ to ask you.” 

Five and ½ Years Ago Money flows when he makes it. Your first date was to the movies, nervous hand holds on your knee – uncertain arm around your shoulder. He smelled like Suave body wash and cigarettes. Your second to some restaurant out of town, he stumbled over his drink order and yours but it made you giggle in a way that made him giggle too. He wore a ‘nice’ shirt that Wayne let him borrow but he shifted in it all night – rolling up the sleeves and opening up the collar. Some chicken scratch tattoos on his forearms. He kissed you in the van with warm full lips and smiled all the way home. But as the months went on and Rick started giving him bigger plays, bigger bricks to move – two years in the trenches had his seeing stacks he had only dreamed of before. You got to reap the benefits. A pair of earrings, nicer dinners, paying for your manicures every now and again. New tattoos on his arms, on his chest, littered in them – good ones too, he’d go out to Ohio for them. He’d work his shifts at the garage with your dad and then on some nights and weekends do his business. Your daddy still looked the other way, if the cops weren’t knocking then it didn’t matter. Eddie was making you happy, he was making everyone happy, so there wasn’t any reason for him to worry. You spent your shifts at the diner thinking about when he’d come pick you up. Thinking about when he’d come in during your opening shifts and flirt with you while he had a cup of coffee – sometimes in his coveralls, sometimes in his clothes from the night before. He smelled good, new colognes – he got a couple. You liked the one he wore on date nights and loved the one he wore during the day. Got some silver chains to match his rings – subtle upgrades. He’d started to fill out some – making more money, eating more, more muscle, more cash, more confidence – still yours. Still lovesick. ‘The most lovesick eyes I’ve ever seen.’  

His hair tickled your thighs while he had you splayed out on the mattress in Rick’s guest room, the ‘welcome to the weekend’ party still raging down stairs as the night begins to approach the early hours of the morning. Perks of living on the outskirts of town – no neighbors to call the cops to tell you to shut the fuck up. The thud of the music makes the walls vibrate, putting you in a steady trance in the dark. The joints you were passed earlier had made their claim, body languid and floaty — he could have you just how he wants you. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he whispers into the crease of your thigh while his hands push your knees apart further. His tongue is his best feature, and he knows it now. Easily his strongest muscle with the way it’s started to get him in and out of anything. Sweet charm turned as silver as his rings as he got more and more successful, more and more of Rick’s approval. His tongue lies flat in slow intentional drags between your legs, spit pooling out in its wake. He likes to take his time here to build you up, your soft ‘hm’s encouraging him to keep his pace.

“It’s nice like that, huh?” he asks gently, pressing a kiss to your clit, “Using my tongue on you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, eyes closed and sleepy. His head pokes up from between your legs when he notices your body reacting less and less to his mouth. Your sounds get progressively quieter, losing enthusiasm.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, crawling up over you. 

“Mhm,” you respond, eyes still shut. 

“You fallin’ asleep on me?” he laughs, thumb coming up to run over the side of your head, “You little lightweight.” 

Your lips stretch into a smile, the weight of your high pressing you further into the mattress. Each time you take a breath you feel yourself falling further and further away, it’s almost scary until it's not – because he’s there. You feel the pad of his index finger run down the bridge of your nose and slide over your bottom lip. He quietly eases off the bed, grabbing your panties and jeans from the floor to put them back on with the finesse of a person who’s had to redress their passed out friends many times before. You’re almost out like a light when he drapes the throw blanket over your legs, adjusting it to slouch messily over your shoulders. You barely feel the kiss he leaves on your forehead. 

“I love you,” he whispers, before heading back down stairs for a drink. You wake up to the music still blaring downstairs, mouth dry and disoriented – realizing that what woke you up is the sound of the door opening. 

“Hey sleepy, didn’t mean to wake you,” Eddie whispers, wincing a bit as the music gets louder. He closes the door with his hip, clicking on the overhead light making you both squint, “Well, technically I did, but I didn’t mean to wake you up like this. I brought you some food, baby.” Heat rushes to your face at the name. Baby. No one had ever called you that before. Not other hookups or boyfriends - always ‘babe’, never ‘baby’. Always ‘babe’, never ‘angel’, never ‘sweetheart’, never ‘my girl’. Eddie called you every sweet name he could think of. “Thank you,” you smile, eyes falling on the ringed hand cradling a paper plate with two slices of pizza, dripping in grease. The other held a can of Pepsi that he watched your eyes fall on for a brief moment.

“They didn’t have Coke, m’sorry,” he scrunches his nose, leaning in to give you a kiss while he places the plate and can on the side table, clicking on the lamp. 

“That’s okay, this is fine,” you smile, he smiles back while clicking the big light back off. He crawls onto the bed next to you, the warmth of him enveloping you in his scent, his body heat, his essence. Things moved fast since your first date. You’d never felt loved like this, you’d never been kissed how he kissed you. It’s like he wrote the schematics for your body and kept them a secret until the day you let him touch you in the back of his van. The day you let him take you in your bedroom when your parents went to watch Beau’s baseball game. Even his stare made you flustered. Eddie would say the same about you. Gareth and Jeff would label it as lovedrunk, Rick said he was more addicted to being with you than he was to making him money. Sandra at the diner said he’s obsessed. Obsessed with you. It had a nice ring to it. 

“Thank you again,” you nod, cracking open the can of Pepsi that soothes your dry mouth instantly. 

“Anything for you,” he smiles while his hand reaches to yours, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I heard what you said, by the way,” you smirk, “When you left the room.” 

His face somehow blanches and fumes red like sweet cherries at the same time, “You weren’t supposed to.” 

“Didn’t want me to know that you love me?” you tease, shoulder bumping him with a laugh. He doesn’t laugh back, he just looks at you with soft eyes – big and brown, begging. 

“Is that stupid?” he asks softly, disappointment weighing heavy on his tongue. 

“No! No! It’s not stupid,” you quickly assure, “No, I um –” You smile down into the can of Pepsi, manicured nails on your opposite hand drumming on the aluminum. “I love you, too,” you whisper, “I was nervous that maybe it was too soon. I didn’t like…I didn’t wanna scare you.” “Scared by my girl saying she loves me? Nah,” he shakes his head, teeth gleaming in a smile that hurts his cheeks, “That’s the best shit I’ve heard all year.” “Why don’t you eat first,” he starts huskily, taking your Pepsi can and placing it on the side table. The cologne on his skin had mixed pleasantly with tobacco, enveloping you in sandalwood, fruit, and smoke. His lips were plush as he pressed first against the corner of your mouth and then the other, holding his index finger in the center of yours. He nuzzled your nose gently before easing himself into a deep kiss, index finger tracing down your cheek. “As I was saying,” he starts again, a light giggle floating out of his chest and escaping pink cheeks, “Why don’t you eat first and then maybe we can go to mine and I’ll show you how much I love you.” “What about Wayne?” you ask, looking at his distorted face with your foreheads so close together. He steals a quick kiss from you again, another on your cheek. “Wayne’s staying close to the plant to do a morning shift, so he won’t be home until tomorrow night,” he grins, “We can play house all day tomorrow.” 

“You’re stupid,” you laugh, leaning back to take the pizza off the side table to take a bite. “What? You don’t wanna be my baby all day?” he gets on his knees on the mattress to lean into you, lips finding their way to your cheek and jaw. You squirm under his touch, a feather light gasp coming out of your mouth when he nips at the spot at the top of your neck. “What’s got you so flustered, hm?” he teases into your ear, his ringed hand trailing up your thigh. Your hand covers his and he stops his journey, pulling back a little. “Nothing bad, s’just – I really like it when you call me baby,” you hide your face with one hand, “I don’t think I’ve said that before. It’s just really nice.”  “Baby,” he pours out like warm syrup, it sounds so natural in his nicotine soaked voice. He pulls your hand away, smattering slow soft kisses across your cheeks. Mumbling between each one, “Baby, baby, baby.”

[greycaelum]

Hi Grey! When Reader met Gojo clan it is not a good meeting, how about the day when Gojo met Reader’s family?

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Normal }

—Gojo Satoru X Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

You glance at Satoru, his nervous look replaced with a relieved one as well. Your man looks like he just won the grand prize in the arcade. But it faded when your Dad cleared his throat, silencing everyone at the table.

"Mnn, which team are you?" He glared at Satoru who have gone pale once again.

"Sir?" ... Satoru's face has gone Pikachu.

"Team. Which team are you?"

"He means baseball." You supplied at his confused brain.

𑁍 Genre: fluff, domesticity, family

𑁍 CW/TW: (2.5k)— Satoru, and Y/n being sleep-deprived, slight cursing, and Satoru being a nice kitty to your dad

𑁍 A/N: Merry Christmas! I hope y'all keeping we arm in this cold days~

Satoru wants to meet your parents, and it was an interesting afternoon.

"Remember Hikaru-kun? Your childhood best friend. He came home for a short vacation. He's grown to be such a charming man." Your Mom happily chattered over the phone. "I was surprised to know he established his own company. Could you believe that? He's just 24 years old."

"He's always been a smart kid." You shrug, a blurry memory of this childhood friend you don't remember playing much with. Nonetheless, that's a great thing. Being successful at such a young age. "Send my regards to him Mom." You took a taste of the curry you're making

You heard your mother sigh.

"Someday, if you're gonna get a person to marry, I'd rather have you a normal man Y/n. You don't need to go after those rich men who have too much money to spend for a lifetime. A man with a job enough to feed you and finance a good life is enough."

"Mom!" You laughed at the sudden switch of her topic.

"What? It's true. Even your father agrees with me." You heard a grumble from the phone, probably your father being glared at by your mother to agree. "A man who can treat you right, and provide is more than enough. What would you do with the money if he cannot have time for you?"

"I know Mom." You turned the stove off and checked the rice cooker.

Great! Dinner is ready, all that's left is to wait for Satoru.

"You have to bring home the guy when you find one, okay? Your Dad and I are looking forward to it!"

"Sure." You helplessly smiled at her insistence. Your friends' parents would usually say the opposite. But your mother has a good point.

Bringing Satoru over... well, after that sudden remarks from your mother you're starting to doubt the resolution you built to have your boyfriend meet your parents. Satoru is quite the opposite of her aspiration of a guy for you. It would be unfair on Satoru's part if you ask him to act like a 'normal citizen'.

She said her goodbyes after one last reminder and that left you to sit and wait on the counter stool. It's still early, Satoru will be home in an hour or two. You look up from your phone and froze at the man leaning on the kitchen door frame.

Brooding eyes staring at you with his arms crossed. Uh-oh...

"Aren't you bringing me over?"

"'Toru, welcome home!" You easily brush off the surprise and jump off the kitchen stool, padding in his direction and throwing your arms around him for a hug. "You already showered." You inhaled the menthol scent of his shower gel accompanied by aftershave. The faint redness from shaving his jaws was still visible even as he just his lips down for a pout.

"When are you gonna take me to meet Mom and Dad?"

Mom and Dad? You look at him between laugh and frown.

"Soon." After I explain to them...

"Baby!" He whined, throwing his arms around you, pouting and huffing. "You're not proud of me huh?"

"That's not the reason 'Toru." You sighed, turning around to cup his cheeks.

"Is it because I'm not normal?" His shoulders visibly tensed, turning to hide his face in your neck, enveloping you in his tight hug.

"Silly, 'Toru." The last thing you need is to make him feel inadequate. You struggled to gather his face, his lower lip jutting down as he avoids your gaze. "Look, give me just few days, I promise I'm gonna take you to see them. No secrets this time. Okay?" Leaning forward you give the tip of his nose a small peck, hoping it would appease him.

You're sure your Mom and Dad would change their mind when they see Satoru and his intentions with you.

"Mnn, 'kay." He hummed, pulling you for another hug.

It's Saturday dusk. Your hand laced around Satoru's rough ones, a layer of his Infinity naturally clung to you against the busy Tokyo crowd. It's a normal occurrence for Satoru to have you in his weekend work also being your date time. And you're both now on your way to grab dinner before going he brings you home.

"I think there's a festival." Satoru draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side to protect you from the crowd colliding over your shoulders. "Do you want some cotton candy?"

"Just say that you want to eat some."

He laughed, pinching your cheeks. But nonetheless, you nod with a smile. Your boyfriend's sweet tooth rubbed on you over time.

"Which one do you want?" Satoru turned to you to choose from the different cotton candy colors.

"The blue on please."

Satoru paid for it while you peek at the nearby takoyaki stall.

"Y/n?"

Someone's calling you. You roam your head in the crowd.

"See I told you it's her. Y/n!"

You turned and saw your parents waving at you.

Fuck

"Don't run around like that Baby, I thought I lost you for a second. Mnn, what's wrong?"

Agh! Double fuck!

Here you are, twirling your straw on the iced tea with your parents looking at you and Satoru back and forth. It's certainly not the first time they met, Satoru already met them at your graduation but apart from asking if he could take you out, there was nothing more.

"So are you two..." Your mother trailed down, her eyes wandering to Satoru, with his hand holding yours, despite the thin sheet of sweat forming on his palm. "Are you two, dating?"

His shoulders visibly straightened, and the constant bobbing of his throat was as if he was having a hard time swallowing whatever it is stuck in his throat.

Your father grunted from the side. Raking a good look at Satoru who has switched his bandages to his sunglass. Clearly, your old man is not impressed.

"Yes, Ma'am."

You Mom made an 'oh' face and smiled. A smile that you don't trust.

"So... what's your job? Gojo-kun?"

And there it goes. You trust Satoru alright, but he does say random things out of the blue that jeopardizes the situation.

"I'm working as a teacher in a technical school in Tokyo."

An unlicensed one at that too. You bit your tongue. Squeezing his hand to give moral support to your man. He squeezes back, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, assuring you in his small gesture.

Your Mom looks brighter. That fits in her 'normal' category of prospect for you.

"How about your family Gojo-kun? Are you an only child?"

"Ma, that's a sensitive question." You stop sipping your iced tea and frown.

But there are that soft circles, rubbing your knuckles, calling your attention to calm down. Satoru kept his gaze straight on your mother and answered.

"My family is a little wider than the usual family tree, and we have a small family business—"

What the fuck is small? Gojo Clan basically monopolized the big three sorcerer families. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his fatass lie.

"—I have a sister. But she's studying as an exchange student so we don't see each other that much."

Your Mother nod, quite satisfied with her interview-like questions.

You glance at Satoru, his nervous look replaced with a relieved one. Your man looks like he just won the grand prize in the arcade. But it faded when your Dad cleared his throat, silencing everyone at the table.

"Mnn, which team are you?" He glared at Satoru who have gone pale once again.

"Sir?" ... Satoru's face has gone Pikachu.

"Team. Which team are you?"

"He means baseball." You supplied at his confused brain.

"Oh! Yomiuri Giants... Sir." He almost stuttered under the scrutinizing glare of your Dad. What if your Dad is a Hanshin Tiger's fan?! He will hate him!

"Come to the house tomorrow." Your father grunted and tug your Mom who was staring at you, making some hand signals she will call you later. Only when they left your vision did you let out a long sigh.

"Your Dad hates me." Satoru has never felt so dejected in his existence.

"I also don't know." You finally broke the poor man's last string of hope.

"He. Hates. Me?!" 

"Stop shaking me!"

Thinking about it it's not like your Dad spat vitriol on Satoru. It's just that he also didn't look like he was convinced. Satoru has been silent since you went home. You've never seen him this bothered. Agitated, and restless. Sitting on the kitchen counter stool, he's been staring, absentmindedly at the wall.

"Get your ass over here." You rolled your eyes. "I made hot cocoa." That one didn't need much convincing.

Soon you're enveloped in his arms, a thick quilt covering the two of you while sipping some hot cocoa. His calloused fingertips, occasionally rub the back of your hand when you took too long before giving him a sip. A part of you is confident your parents would understand. Even if they knew the truth... that Satoru is not the conventional man they idealized for you, they'll still accept your decision.

Your heart has never been this peaceful even if he's a walking disaster.

"I want your parents to like me." Out of nowhere, he mumbled. A mumbling Satoru is a common thing when the two of you huddle on the couch.

"They'll do." You hummed and close your eyes, leaning your head back to his shoulders. "After all, I'm not planning on switching you for anyone anytime soon."

He huffs, making you smile knowing he's already pouting. Telling you he's up to talk about it more.

"I want them to like me for you." Satoru shrug. "Y'know, like treat me how they'd treat a son too."

"Why? You planning to be my adopted brother?" You quirk an amused brow and Satoru rolls his eyes. His thumb, drew circles over the back of your hand, resuming the cozy silence until you both finish the mug of cocoa and went to bed.

The next afternoon, you rang the doorbell of your parent's house.

"Oh! They're here. Come in, we've been waiting for you." Your Mother announced your arrival and your Father grumbles in the background.

You can't hide the budding smile on your lips when you see your father, brooding by the stove but he's cooking a special dish. Something your mother asked in the chat yesterday.

"You should stay for a sleepover, we're going home tomorrow." Your Mother smiled, especially in Satoru's direction. "The both of you."

But Satoru has to go to work. No man is available to fill in Satoru's place, much more there are not many people to ask that favor anyway.

"I could stay over but Satoru has work later afternoon."

A hand intertwined with yours squeezing it. Satoru intervened.

"If you'd have me, I'll stay Ma'am, Sir."

"Of course! Of course!"

Your Father quietly puts the bowl on the table and crosses his arms, staring at Satoru. Your poke his side, nudging a bowl to his side while you also get yours. Ladling for him and for you.

Satoru sat there, a little confused but a glint in his eyes sparkled as he brought the spoon to his mouth.

"How is it?" Your Father asked in a gruff tone.

You can't help but giggle. Your father can be a tsundere at times, even having your mother text you to ask what Satoru's favorite dish is.

"If Y/n doesn't cook this, your cooking would be the closest I've ever had to my childhood." A small smile bloomed on Satoru's lips, followed by a wide boyish grin.

Your Father cleared his throat, nodding his head, evading your knowing smirk. He's so easy to please.

"How long have you and Y/n met?"

The lunch started with the talk of how you and Satoru started. Your mother is the best at remembering your embarrassing moments as a kid but forgetting to brag about your formal achievements.

You could already see that little horns in Satoru's head to tease you when you get home.

"He's a good man." Your mother hummed, watching your father and Satoru play catch ball in the backyard, the two of them talking but you cannot hear it.

"Oh, you don't know what a menace he could be." You shook your head.

Your Father laughed with his hands by his waist and Satoru rolled on the grass clutching his stomach in a fit of laughter too.

"But yeah, he is."

Your mother smiled. It doesn't take long for you to get sleepy, with a full stomach and the relief that Satoru is getting along with your family, it was enough to lull you into a peaceful afternoon nap.

Satoru found you in that state—sleeping on the living room couch while your mother is reading some novel.

"She's asleep. You should go freshen up first."

"I didn't bring any shirt with me, Ma'am."

"I'll bring you a fresh set, and you're my daughter's boyfriend it's weird for you to keep calling me Ma'am and my husband Sir."

"Auntie then. Thank you."

It was only in the bath did it sink into him he's gonna spend the night together with your parents. It's like the sleepover he's never had!

Dressed in his fresh shirt and sweatpants, you're still sleeping and he can't see your Mom and Dad anywhere. You look cozy and vulnerable and it's making him sleepy too.

A little nap won't hurt...

Getting into the covers without disturbing you is easy, he's so used to it that he doesn't break a sweat in turning you over to cuddle into his chest.

Your Dad found the two of you in that position. Sleeping soundly, cuddling each other for warmth and neither of the two of you notices the soft weight of a blanket draping over you until you wake up at the scent of dinner.

"I'll see you next time. Don't forget to wear thicker clothes it's cold."

You hug her and said yes to the remaining reminders. Satoru also hug her, thanking her for the wonderful day off he had.

It was your father's turn.

"Take care Dad. Don't forget to say hi to grandaunt for me."

"I'll tell her. And visit home when you're on vacation." He rumbled, glancing in Satoru's direction. "Bring Satoru with you."

You nod, smiling ear to ear. The boarding announcement to the train rang out and they got in, waving the two of you one last goodbye.

"Bye Mom and Dad!"

Next thing you realize you're engulfed in a tight hug and Satoru's laughing.

"See I told you. They'd like you."

A wide grin is on his lips as you both walk out of the station, Satoru's arms draped over your shoulder.

"Hmmm, you gotta bring me home soon Baby." He whispered and bit your ear making you yelp and hit his chest

Pretty normal Satoru, cheeky and the ball of menace that he is.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey

[edutainer2022]

Sending hugs and strength as always.

I’d love to know any thoughts you have about the Tracys as kids in the happy times. What do you think they got up to? Do you headcanon the farm / ranch / some other Kansas home? Or did Jeff and Lucy live somewhere more built up / accessible to NASA? What were the kids’ hobbies? What would a family day out have looked like?

Oh, @idontknowreallywhy, thank you for the ask! I actually tend to go hazy on the boys' childhood, because the way kids work is not my forte. In my heart of hearts, I see them as latchkey kids of nondescript rural/smalltown US. A meadow outside the backyard, long bus commutes to school. A kind of chaotic but tight and warm, fun, quirky world, reigned supreme by their mother. Think Gilmore Girls, but a single mother of three boys, initially. With Jeff space-cowboying it would be just her and the back to back eldest three for quite some time.

Also think The Sound of Music - she's the one with piano and art. And the horses. There were sing alongs and movie marathons, and board games, and junk snacks, and bake offs, and magic in that household. That's why I also think, much as Scott worships and seeks approval of a (always away) father, he was Mom's right hand and White Knight. Mom's champion and deputy in wrangling the younger brothers. There would, of course, be SHENANIGANS. Sometimes Mom Tracy would just discover zen of a boys mom and have a glass of red on hand.

Since we have Gran Roca, I also sometimes think Yellowstone. She's the one from old(er) Manifest Destiny ranching money. She knows how to get her hands dirty, but it's removed from Jeff's first generation off the farm experiences. She sees the help, but she's also used to having them around - hence the five kids without batting an eye, given Jeff's military/space career. That would quite organically convert into the boy's we know - humble, generous, approachable, but somewhat sheltered.

I also think that Jeff's soaring wealth, Mom's untimely demise and grief buried in work, would spell something like a Warton Academy. Maybe not a full on boarding school, but a posh prep school with Ivy League pipeline and uniform blazers with embroidered crests. At least for the elder three's high school stretch. That would also, probably, mean shifting base to a bigger city and a dramatic change of pace in the boys' routine.

The boys hobbies? Scott is obviously a Rescue Scout extraordinaire. He's never met a sport he wasn't good at. But I also think School Parliament, Speech and Debate, maybe ROTC (to fit a military stint with my understanding of the timeline). Scott is earmarked for leadership and high pressure operations early on. National Honors Society, hands down. Dad would never tolerate anything less than excellent and Scott intended to be EVERYTHING Dad was - including space track. Calculus may actually be his "nerdy guilty pleasure". I also absolutely don't see how Mom didn't teach him the piano first. It likely didn't go far, but he gets by at the keyboard.

Virgil is the music and arts kid, obviously. He probably followed Scott into many hobbies and clubs, originally, but his strengths and disposition are just so obviously different.

John loves school. The more school - the merrier. Coding, and astronomy, and physics. Languages on the side. Gifted program. The Big Bang Theory worthy combo of Supreme nerd-dom. I'd say music too - comes with the territory of good ear for languages. Sports by necessity - to keep up with the original Turbo Twosome, and to get space rated. He came to actually enjoy sports, on his own terms.

Come to think of it, the Elder Trio are a token comical display of the Prom King always flanked by two sidekicks, who embody the very definition of "geeky uncool". In hindsight, John is sometimes amazed that Scott actually ENJOYED hanging out with them and did so by choice. Still does so.

[punkeropercyjackson]

The way Gwen and Hobie are perfect for eachother on every level,including a narrative one which is such a major theme of Atsv.The subliminal messaging of Gwen going to visit Miles but thinking to put on Hobie's sweater first and leaving it in his room and it being a regular thing between them for her to wear his clothes to show how much she trusts him vs the ending where Gwen wears Miles' jacket as a safety net and the posibility that Hobie might've convinced Gwen to dye her hair pink vs Miles' unintentionally forcing her to have to get a new haircut.Gwen never holding back her affection for Hobie because she's not scared of falling for him because he's not SpiderMAN and how we as an audience we're told how deep their friendship runs is entierly up to them,that Gwen and Hobie get to choose wether or not they fall in love so they don't have to worry about it not ending well for either of them.How comics!Hobie's admiration towards comics!Gwen was made the reverse and how we saw her talking about Hobie like a feet kicking giggling girlfriend instead of it just keep implied like with Miles and Hobie didn't make assumptions about them unlike Miles did him and her and that nobody in-universe expected Ghostpunk to be 'canon' because Gwen is 'supposed' to be with Miles and die for his sake

'Self-Love' is more fitting for Gwen and Hobie than they are for Gwen Stacy and Spiderman,like 'drink too much,think too much,thoughts drownin' me'(Hobie says he does underaged drinking at pubs all the time),'you don't know love,you just show love,stop doubtin' me'(Miles absolutely knows love from Jefferson and Rio but Hobie has an either MIA or dead mom and a deadbeat dad),'cuff me,told the truth to him,he don't trust me'(George trying to arrest Gwen > Hobie getting his ass for it > George's pissy dislike of him for it),'hate to see,yeah woah,money scheme yeah,woah'('it's a metaphor for capitalism'),'live and questionable',('i'm not a role model'),'love hangin' out,say you hate it now'(how tight Gwen and Hobie are and her flusteredly denying it when Miles asks about it)

The daughter of a cop who was kicked out for doing vigilantism and the dude who killed his canon event cop.The Variant of an archetype that's characterized by being a normie nerd girl who's a pastel punk trans girl and a superheroine and the Variant of an obscure villain who's afropunk and has his own black twist on the mantle that typically belongs to a white man.Them never having dated or been this important to eachother in the comics so it's even more of a twisting the knife into canon and Gwen thinking she knew how her story went but didn't and Hobie not believing in consistency.Their human mood ring color changing that's matching in a contrasting way and the lil parallel between Ganke stealing Miles' shoes too,Ganke having been Miles' Batman and Superman level gay subtext comics bestie and Ghostpunk an lgbt ship too with Gwen's canonized transness and Hobie's punk accuracy update to make him unlabeled trans.'This movie is a love story between Miles and Gwen'but it wasn't.It was Gwen and Miles' story and Gwen had her own romance with Hobie and Miles got to do his own thing and Hobie got to quit the narrative instead of playing possum.Miles and Gwen are soulmates but platonically against amatonormatovity and Gwen and Hobie are romantic soulmates not by fate but by choice.They love eachother on purpose

[mixelation]

okay i did something interesting. here's a scene from reborn au (the ONLY thing i have written from kushina's POV) and then how the same thing would go in reborn au au. spoilers: obito makes everyone worse.

reborn au first. kushina after she backs back to konoha from iwa. includes some Adult Intimacy with minato but the actual sex is fade to black. also this was inexplicably written in present tense so i had to edit it to match the other bits; apologies if i missed a sentence

****

Kushina let Minato lace his fingers through hers while they waited for their Ichiraku order, then step directly into her so their shoulders brushed. He always got so needy whenever her missions went bad. 

She didn’t mind. She’d missed him. She leaned her head on his shoulder, watching Teuchi’s daughter Ayame set bowls in front of dine-in customers. 

“Thanks,” Minato said, accepting three plastic tubs in a plastic bag from her. Half a second later, they were in their dining room. 

“Naruto!” Minato called. “Your mom is–”

A small orange hurricane crashed into Kushina. Kushina grinned as she wrapped her arms around her son. She knew Naruto really loved her because he hugged her tight and told her how much he missed her before grabbing for his share of ramen. 

They didn’t tell Naruto a thing about her kidnapping. He was still too young, and the incident already had Minato’s ‘need to know only’ stamp on it. Kushina hated keeping secrets from her son, even ones that would upset him, but a ninja’s life was always filled with secrets. The only reason she didn’t have to keep any from her husband was because she lucked out and married the Hokage. 

Kushina was already mostly healed, anyway. She didn’t have to explain away any injuries, only that she was tired from travel. 

“Did you do anything cool?” Naruto asked through a mouthful of noodles. “Dad said there’d be a big tournament.”

Kushina grinned at him, and then spent the rest of the dinner recalling all her students’ matches through her own mouthfuls of noodles. 

“He won the whole thing?” Naruto whined of Itachi. “Sasuke’s never going to shut up!”

“I won the tournament at my exam,” Minato told him. “You can tell Sasuke about that.”

Naruto rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t count, you know.” 

Kushina winked. “Deidara really gave Itachi a run for his money, though. And all the Iwa-nin think he’s your brother.”

Minato buried his face in a hand as Naruto’s brows furrowed. 

“Why would they think that…?” Naruto wondered. “Cuz he’s blonde? That’s stupid.”

Kushina laughed. 

After dinner, Naruto very excitedly showed Kushina a project he’d been working on at school. They’d been learning to make traps, and he proudly showed her diagram after diagram of traps he made up himself, which largely overestimated the laws of physics. Kushina grinned and ruffled his hair anyway. She knew her son. He might be a disaster on paper, but he would figure out how to get every one of those traps to work, even if he had to make a hundred nonfunctional traps first.

She dumped the duty of actually checking Naruto’s homework on Minato in favor of taking a luxuriously long bath. She loved her long hair, but it accumulated travel grime like no one’s business. Her joints felt truly exhausted while she brushed out her washed hair after her bath, making her wince. Kushina almost never got this tired. Iwa had really done a whammy on her. 

By the time she was out, Minato was talking to Naruto down the hall, putting him to bed. Kushina listened to their faint voices affectionately as she went through her clothes in search of pajamas… ah, an old shirt she’d stolen from Minato. Perfect. She’d missed home so much. 

It was only once Naruto was sound asleep in bed that Minato came back to the bedroom. He was still adorably needy. 

“I was worried,” Minato murmured between kisses to her neck, his hands buried in her damp hair. She was so glad she’d washed it. 

Kushina huffed in exaggerated irritation even as she tilted her head to the side to let him at more of her neck. One of his hands switched from her hair to his hip, fingers pushing up her pajama shirt. Kushina moaned as his familiar callouses brushed over her bare skin. God, why had she even bothered putting anything on?

“It was over before you even knew anything had happened,” she said as Minato backed her up to their bed, his other hand also working its way under her shirt. His teeth grazed the shell of her ear. “My team had me out almost immediately.”

“That’s why I was worried,” Minato replied. He obediently leaned back so she could pull his own shirt over his head. “What’s the point of you having a hiraishin marker in your seal if things happen before you can use it?”

Kushina snorted as she tossed his shirt away and dropped down onto the bed in one motion. Minato still had his mesh armor on, and she ran a hand over it, enjoying how it fits his chest. Minato was always making puppy dogs eyes at her about how he missed being able to kiss her first thing in the morning and last thing at night when she was away, but Kushina had always missed the warmth of his skin. 

She very carefully rolled up the mesh armor, watching his chest move with long, relaxed breaths. 

“Like you teleporting into Iwa wouldn’t have made everything worse,” she said, discarding the mesh. It clunked to the carpet, deceptively heavy. 

Minato whined at her like the giant needy pushover he was, pushing her further back onto the mattress so he could straddle her. Despite the topic of conversation, Kushina couldn’t keep a juvenile grin off her face. 

“Who cares?” he said, carefully brushing hair out of her face. “They kidnapped my wife.”

Kushina knew Minato was not being serious. The third war lasted more than half their lives, cost him two of his students and Kushina her entire clan, and Minato would never do anything so brash that he might rekindle it. But also, when it was just the two of them, she kind of liked this side of Minato. 

Also, even though it had been almost ten years, it still makes her stomach flip to hear him say my wife. 

“Your wife is fine,” Kushina told him, cupping his face and running her thumb over his bottom lip. “But she’s a little disappointed she’s still wearing clothes.”

Kushina was barely wearing clothes. She was in her panties and a baggy T-shirt, currently bunched up around her armpits, and she felt great. Minato’s gaze dropped from her face for the first time since they’d started making out, his eyes lighting up with acute interest at the sight of her under him, like it had just occurred to him he could look and not be hopelessly lost in her eyes.

You dweeb, Kushina thought affectionately.  

“I missed you,” she said out loud. 

Maybe she was a little needy too. 

In the morning, Kushina woke to find Minato on his back, frowning at the ceiling. She blinked a few times, trying to focus on his profile in the dim light of sunrise. This exercise didn’t last long, as Minato realized she was awake. He beamed at her, rolling over and pushing himself up to lean over her. 

“Good morning,” he said, and then pressed his lips to hers. 

Usually, his good morning kisses were brief. A small peck to say I love you before he ran off to some new Hokage crisis, or before one of them went to wake Naruto. Often she was only half awake, and he’d have to go for her cheek or temple. Sometimes it was Kushina initiating it, on the rare occasion a mission had her out of bed earlier than him, or on his days off when he’d let himself sleep in. 

This time, his kiss lingered, and god, she’d missed just the weight of his body on hers. He opened his mouth, poking his tongue at her lips, and she almost let him in. 

Instead she turned her face away, and he drew back. 

“I am so tired,” she admitted. “Rain check?”

He flopped back down into bed next to her, careful to avoid her untied hair as best he could, and she could tell from his body language he was upset. Minato never got upset when she denied him, though. Something else in the exchange had gotten to him… oh, was he upset because of why she was so tired?

She poked his side. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can let Iwa get away with kidnapping you,” he said. “Bad optics. Can’t let Konoha seem weak.”

“Well…” Kushina said, tracing a finger across his ribs. “Deidara did take out the entire demolition squad, and they think he’s your bastard child you used to steal their bloodline limit. So you might be even, you know.”

Minato covered his face with a pillow. 

////

okay, so then here's just the very last bit, but now reborn au au. minato POV. assume the mission went exactly same, even though i might retcon this

****

Minato pulled back when Kushina turned her head, his eyes focusing on her face. She was so pretty in the morning light, her eyes dark and her hair turned to a red glow. He would kiss her forever if she let him. 

“I am so tired,” Kushina admitted. “Rain check?”

Kushina’s hair looked so good spread out over the sheets, beautiful red swirls against their cream-colored linen, like a painter’s masterpiece across canvas. Minato loved it, loved seeing it after weeks without her, loved the way it made the whole bed smell like Kushina, but he was keenly aware it would hurt if he laid on it. Kushina had yelled at him more than once. He was very careful as he laid back down next to her. 

Kushina was almost never tired first thing in the morning, not after a good night’s sleep, and Minato had made sure she’d slept very well. She might have healed any wounds, but her mission had taken a lot out of her. 

Chakra poisoning in Iwa, Kushina had said. It was a very tricky thing to manage, but Iwa had correctly hypothesized it was one of the few things that could reliably take out an Uzumaki. It was also one of the few things that would reliably work on a jinchuriki, although he was reasonably confident Kushina’s status as one remained confidential. 

Minato felt a flash of anger, both at Iwa and at himself. How dare Iwa send him so many simpering letters about peace and good-will, and then do this to his wife? And how dare Minato be so stupid as to let her walk right into their village? 

Kushina poked him. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can let Iwa get away with kidnapping you,” he said. He said it slowly, feeling the weight of the words on his tongue. He would not let another long, pointless war break out. But how could he let Iwa get away with this insult? What else would they do to Konoha, if he let them do something so brash without consequence? “Bad optics. Can’t let Konoha seem weak.”

“Well…” Kushina traced a finger over his ribs as she described her team’s destruction of the Iwa Demolition Corps, and Minato wanted nothing more than to ease into her touch and just listen to her talk for hours. 

He couldn’t, though. In a little bit he’d get up and get Naruto ready for school, because Kushina needed rest, and then he’d go into his office and schedule a full day of meetings about what to do about Iwa. He had to think this over. 

“Obito burned down Kusa,” Minato said contemplatively. Kushina’s fingers didn’t stop. “And Ame said it was understandable. Nothing bad happened.”

Ame was in the neighboring country and leadership was… kind of nuts. If anyone would flip their lids over Kusa being decimated, it would have been them. But they hadn’t, and they’d more or less told Iwa to shut up when they’d sent an inquiry. 

“Mm,” Kushina hummed. “But that was in the moment, part of a rescue. That’s more justifiable than retaliation after the fact.”

This was very true. Minato highly doubted Iwa would go public with losing their strongest combat group, but if they did and tried to point the blame at Konoha, it was unlikely anyone on an international level would get involved. Iwa had kidnapped Team 4’s beloved sensei, and they’d gotten her back. What else would anyone expect?

Then again, as the peace treaties currently stood, no village could drag another one into war by virtue of their alliance, as had happened in the Third Shinobi War. If he did something to Iwa, as long as their ally Kumo didn’t want to be involved, Iwa couldn’t force them to help. This also meant that if Konoha got into an altercation, they couldn’t force Suna or Kiri to send aid, but… did they really need that? Unlike Iwa, who had turned funneling civilian children into shinobi training into an art, the number of active shinobi in Konoha still hadn’t recovered since the war. However, several key individuals meant their actual combat power was higher than ever. 

Would it be worth the risk? 

Maybe he should talk to Obito… 

[mrsparrasblog]

Highscool AU CoD Pt1

1 September 1990

Pt2

SIMON'S POV

"Your son will never be anything proper if he keeps going to that snob school," my father screamed at my mother as usual. It wasn’t like I wanted to go to that damn boarding school anyway; I didn't want to leave Tommy alone with my dad.

"He's got a full ride scholarship. Do you know how much money we're saving?" No costs for food for me, no hockey equipment, nothing; it was all paid for just so I could play hockey at this damn school.

"He's still with all these trust fund brats. These kids grow up with a silver spoon in their lives, he gets messed up and thinks he can study and do other crap."

"Jim, fuck off. Your son is going to be a hockey player, for fuck's sake."

I left the kitchen, walking back to my room, packing the last things I needed before taking the train to Exeter. The uniform mom bought me was two sizes too big. She said I would fit into it soon, but it wouldn't help my case that no one in this school wanted to talk to the scholarship boy. I just wanted to go to a normal school in Manchester, hang out with my mates, watch football with them, and not do hockey. I didn't want to become a professional ice hockey player, but I also didn’t want to disappoint mom, so hockey it is.

----------------------------------------

The train would leave in 10 minutes. My family and I already stood at the rail.

"I'm going to write you, Tommy, and I'll come back most weekends." Tommy clung to my legs, desperate for me not to leave again like last time. I knew dad would probably beat Tommy up again for being so emotional.

"Dad."

"Son."

We only nodded at each other, and then mom hugged me tight, not wanting to let go of me. I walked inside the train, searching for an empty compartment. Hopefully, there was no one from my school on this train. I needed this time to prepare myself for the hell I would endure for the next year.

----------------------------------------

I arrived at Exeter. The bus took me to my home for the next year: Northbridge Academy.

Around the gate stood all sorts of cars. Most students got driven here instead of taking the train like I did. Their cars would make dad fuss again about how posh this place is. Ferraris, Porsches, and Bugattis were the cars of the poorer students. They would probably laugh about Dad's Honda Civic.

My stomach growled. I knew it wouldn’t get food until the evening today in the mess hall. It was like a sort of ritual welcoming the first years, introducing them, mostly telling what their parents did for a living and which sport they would do in this school. I remembered last year when I was introduced: "Simon Riley. Mom's a nurse, and Dad's unemployed. He will join the ice hockey team."

At that point, I knew I would get bullied after hearing all the things about the other students in my year. There was one scholarship boy too, Johnny. I thought we would be friends, but because of him being the goalie of our football team, everyone loved him despite his parents only being farmers. Of course, he befriended Kyle, the most popular guy around. He was filthy rich and posh. The girls all fancied him. He played as a striker, and rumors said that he would, after graduating his A levels, play for Arsenal.

"Sod off, Riley. Go back to where you belong, mud," Tiffany said as she spat on me. Tiffany was the most popular girl, but rather than Kyle, she wasn’t nice. She was mean and hated my guts, always telling me their family worked hard to achieve this place at Northbridge Academy, while I got it gifted. So she made me deserve it in other ways by bullying me with her little girls squad. But who cared?

A giant approached me, giving me a handkerchief and speaking in the most broken English I've ever heard. "Are you okay, little one?"

"Yes, it's okay, mate." He only nodded and went away.

--------------------------------------------------------

I sat back in my class and listened to Ms. Lawson, our class teacher, telling us all about this year's classes.

"Let me introduce you to a new girl in the class. Come on, Ms. König," she smiled at a girl who shyly walked in front of the whole class with a batch of red velvet cookies in her hand.

She is incredibly beautiful, but she is a trust fund baby like everyone else. I could already see it; she wore a Chanel bow wrapped inside her blonde curly hair. She was taller than me by several inches; she was at least 5'3" while I only reached 4'11". But I'll be tall like my Dad someday, hopefully. She was a bit different than the other rich girls, though.

She wasn’t as skinny as them; she was a bit chubby. I never saw the problem in being chubby, but my classmates always made fun of chubby girls. Poor girl won't survive a second in this hell. The teacher told us that her Dad was the founder and CEO of Kortac. I didn’t know what this was, but judging by the way my classmates gasped, she must be filthy rich.

"Hello, I'm Elisabeth. Um, I moved to Cardiff with my brother and my mom. I was born in Vienna, Austria. I do ballet, gymnastics, and I like to bake," she smiled.

"Well, we see that she likes baking," Tiffany whispered to Laurie, both of the girls giggling.

"You should probably be nice to her, Tiff. Mom told me about Kortac," Jilian said, and Tiffany nodded. I didn’t know what Kortac was, but it sounded like something not good.

Elisabeth walked towards the back of the class, sitting at the table next to me. What just happened? She smiled at me, reaching out with her hands towards me. It took two minutes till I grabbed it and shook it. "I'm Simon."

"I'm Elisabeth. Do you want a cookie?" She smiled and almost stuffed the red velvet cookie in my mouth. It was delicious, like an explosion in my mouth. This was so nice from her; she probably didn’t know that it would be her social ruin being friends with me. Slow fantasies about having a friend in this school crept up inside my head. It was unrealistic, but a nice thought; even if she was a girl, better than nothing, right? She was nice, and her cookies were good.

"Thank you for the cookies."

"I'll always feed everyone."

"You should never feed a stray dog," I joked. If she only knew her cookie was the first thing I ate in two days.

"Hm, but I like collecting stray dogs," she laughed. A friend. I had a friend. I couldn’t mess this up.

The girls' squad approached us; they probably would humiliate me, and then she starts to laugh at me.

"König? You should probably reconsider your taste in friends; this mutt here is on a scholarship basis here." God, how I hated Tiffany.

"Oh, I think I'll have great taste in friends. I mean, I'm not friends with you," Elisabeth smiled. She looked so sweet, and now she was protecting me in front of Tiffany. My new friend was a feisty one.

"He is poor, don’t you understand?" Tiffany scoffed, disgusted.

"What do your parents do, Tiffany?" and for a second, I was afraid she is now influenced by the 5'5 tall skinny Louis Vuitton-wearing cunt.

"My father is a plastic surgeon, and my mother is a lawyer," Tiffany chimed proudly, only earning a laugh from Elisabeth.

"This explains why you can only afford Louis Vuitton. So, Tiffany, my Dad is richer four times than your family, so I'm more than rich enough for Simon and me together. So please leave before I punch your smug face." Her eyelashes fluttered, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. While Tiffany walked away furious, earning us the glances of Kyle's squad.

"Sorry about that. I'm normally nicer; I just don’t like bullies."

"Don’t apologize; that was bloody brilliant."

"So, Simon, which sport do you do?"

"Ice hockey."

"Wow, I loved ice skating as a kid."

"Why ballet then and not figure skating?" I asked her, curious. She would make a great figure skater; she walks so elegantly and doesn’t slop.

"School provides only partner figure skating, and I'm a bit too heavy for that," I didn’t want to agree with her; I would probably struggle picking her up. But I couldn’t even carry 25 pounds. Coach told me I need to work on my strength this month, before I could react and try to say something nice, something weird happened.

"Awright, I'm John Mactavish, mah loue," John never associated with me, and now he comes to my table to speak with my new friend.

"I'm sorry, John; my English, I don’t understand you," she looks at him with apologetic puppy eyes.

"Ah, sorry, I'm Scottish, but if you’d like some tutoring, I'd be available, Ellie?"

“Don’t listen to MacTavish; he almost failed English last year,” I remarked snarky. Normally, I tried to down my sarcasm at this school, make myself as small as possible, but alone, her laugh was worth making myself noticeable.

"Shut up, mate, you're destroying my chances with Ellie."

"I hate nicknames," she grumbled.

"We'll see about that, Bonnie."

"Elisabeth, not Bonnie."

Sure, here's the corrected version:

"You're funny, hen," he laughed before walking away.

"Is everyone so intense here?"

"Yes."

"You don’t talk much, do you?"

"Not really."

"So, I think we will have a great friendship," she smiled at me, and maybe this year won't be hell after all.

"How come you can call me 'Si' but don’t allow nicknames?"

"Because I'm pretty and funny, Si," she pointed her tongue at me playfully.

"Pretty, yes, funny, no, Lizzie," she blushed as I called her pretty; the pink on her cheeks looked cute. Wait, what am I thinking?

"Really, Lizzie?"

"Yes, Lizzie."

After the feast and for the first time in this school not sitting alone eating, I went to the male dorms. Last year, I shared my dorm with a bunch of older guys from the team; this year, I got new dorm partners. I walked into dorm 13B and read the paper on top of it.

Garrick - Perfect. Kyle the jock was in the room.

MacTavish - Even worse than Kyle.

Riley

Volkov

König- Wait, isn’t that Lizzy's last name? But she is a girl, right? She looked like a girl, at least.

Price - He once punched a bully in the face, so he was nice, I guess.

I walked inside the room, seeing that everyone was already unpacking their stuff in the bunk.

Kyle's corner was full of his football trophy and posters of Arsenal London; he took the most place in the closet he shared with Johnny. Of course, he was one of the wealthiest kids in this school; his parents owned several newspapers, shops, and his mother was the heiress of British Petroleum.

Johnny's corner was messy, the wall full of little doodles. I never knew he'd like to draw so much; most of his normal clothes were full of paint stains. It kinda made him more sympathetic.

Nik and Price shared a bunk, like I'd thought; their side was full of posters from Nirvana, Guns N' Roses, and Metallica. Nik's father was the CEO of Aeroflot, so the little plane model didn’t surprise me. John's parents were a curse; his father was on the way to becoming the Prime Minister of England, making the press watch every move of him.

I decorated my room with some ice hockey posters and a picture of me and Tommy; I needed to write him a letter, or else he thinks I've forgotten him. The door opened, and the nice giant from earlier walked inside; this must have been Lizzy's brother and my bunkmate now.

"Hallo," he said awkwardly, ducking his head under the frame. He must be over 6ft tall; I wondered how old he is.

"That's König, mates. He isn’t very good with his English, so fuck off if you complain about his accent," Price commanded; he was like his dad, a natural leader.

"Man, how tall are you?" Johnny asked, curious and, of course, he didn’t know any social clues, idiot.

"1.88 meters."

"That's 6'2" Nikolai explained, knowing the metric system because of his Russian heritage.

I just closed my eyes, ignoring the banter of my roommates, finally falling asleep in that uncomfortable bed.

I woke up in the middle of the night by a cry from under me; that's awkward. I never knew how to react in this situation, especially if a 6'2" guy cries.

"Shh, Elli, es ist nur ein Traum. Ich passe auf dich auf. Sie finden dich nicht; du bist sicher, okay?" (It's just a dream; I'll protect you. They won't find you; you're safe.) It wasn’t his cry; it was Lizzy's. That made it only worse; I didn’t know if I could say or do anything, so I only listened to her sobs, like the weak boy I was. Dad was right; I am useless. I have a friend for one day, but when she is upset, I'm hiding in my bed, listening to her cry like a bloody coward.

The next morning, I went to the mess hall, sitting down next to Lizzie. I had a table now; I was finally inside of it.

"Ach du scheiße—what are you eating?"

"Uh, beans with toast and hash browns."

"That's disgusting," she sniffed.

"Did you even try it?"

"No."

"So why do you think it's disgusting?"

"It looks funky, and breakfast should be a hot roll with some homemade jam or maybe a butter pretzel."

"That sounds German."

"Austrian."

"So why are you eating cereal then?"

"They looked funny," she gestured at her fruit loops and smiled at the bright colors, giving me the spoon so I could taste it. It was an unfamiliar gesture, and she kinda behaved differently than the other rich girls; she behaved carelessly.

"Aye, scoot over, Simon," Johnny sat down at our table with his tray full of sausages and eggs, taking Kyle with him. Both sat down next to us; I felt like I was stuck in a parallel universe.

It got even worse when König, Nik, and John joined the table, making our table completely full. I didn’t like the new size of our friend group. Yesterday, I had only Lizzie, and now I'm stuck with five blokes.

"I'm John Price, by the way," he took Lizzie's hand and gave her a handkiss, making her blush and giggle, while König gave him a death glare. "No touching my sister."

"So, König, which football club do you like?" Kyle asked.

"FC Bayern München, you?" the giant answered.

"Arsenal will play for it someday," Kyle said proudly.

"Manchester United."

"Aye, Celtic FC."

"Of course, a Scottish club," I muttered.

"They're great."

"Tottenham Hotspur," John said proudly, and everyone besides Lizzie started to laugh.

"Mate, no, that's embarrassing."

"Shut it, Garrick."

"If I play for Arsenal, I'll beat Tottenham every day."

"You sure will," John rolled his eyes.

"Elli? Do you fancy a club?"

"I don’t like football."

"What the fuck?" everyone shouted at once.

"It's not hard; it's boring. Try gymnastics or ballet; that's a real sport, and not something where you whine because someone crossed you, stealing your ball," Johnny's and Kyle's faces fell down; how dare she insult their precious sport. It was actually funny how she had all her opinions and was never afraid to spit them out.

"You can come and watch my next rugby game; that's a real sport," John winked at her.

"No flirting with my sister, no touching my sister, no dating my sister until 18," König looked at John with his intimidating facial expression, ready to tower over all of us.

"Eighteen is a bit too early. Oh no, I never date at all; I'll grow old with a bunch of kittens," she smiled while fiddling with her bow in her hand.

"That's a loss for me, hen," poor Johnny will probably get beaten up by the end of the year if he doesn’t stop flirting.

"Why is your bow not in your hair, Lizzie?"

"Tiffany made fun of it, and she was right; it's childish."

"Du liebst deine Schleife?" (You love your bow?) Without a word, I stood up and took her bow and placed it on top of her head. This bow was probably more worth than my mom's paycheck, but still. She is my friend, so I need to be there for her like she protected me yesterday.

"Tiffany is a cunt; you want that bow, you wear that bow." The table agreed with my comment and enjoyed their food.

"What's your next subject, Si?"

"Chemistry."

"Me too," she said and grabbed my hand, pulling me with her to the next class.