#but it's still nice to actually dive in to the story yeah yeah yeah

[infamous-if]

amy please I'm beggin you, who said that in that sneak peek?????

I have a important test tomorrow, I can't be distracted thinking of who said that 😭😭😭

guess you’ll just have to wait and see! hehe that's honestly not the most romantic thing I've written in part 2 (to me) Amy is finally writing #real romance lesssgooooo

[faksyan]

Saw people talking about cringy romance/smut fanfics they wrote as teens and how embarrassed they are by it now and went huh. so many writers had that phase I wonder why I didn't. guess I just didn't find any of that stuff that interesting.

my man my guy you should've figured out the aroace thing sooner.

[w4ndal0ver]

said i'm gonna play with myself (milf!wanda x tutor!reader)

W4NDALOVER'S KINKMAS | 2024

dec 7: said i'm gonna play with myself (milf!wanda x tutor!reader)

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙��̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

KINKMAS MASTERLIST | 2024

summary: While tutoring Wanda's children, she invites you to stay for dinner, before giving you a call that you'd never forget when you get home

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, mommy kink, phone sex

said i'm gonna play with myself.

“Let’s wrap up for today, Tommy. I think you’re well on your way to acing this unit,” you say, gathering your notes.

Tommy grins, newfound enthusiasm lighting his face. “Thanks! I might actually read the rest of it now.”

As you gather your things, you take one last glance at Wanda, who is arranging the table. A flutter of excitement stirs in your chest—this tutoring session is just a step into something deeper, something you can’t wait to explore.

Just as you finish packing up, Wanda glances at the clock, then back at you, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “You know, it’s still early, and Vision won’t be home for a while. Would you like to stay for dinner? It’d be nice to have some adult conversation.”

A rush of excitement mingles with nervousness at the invitation. You glance at Tommy, who looks equally surprised.

“Yeah, stay! My mom makes the best food,” Tommy adds, his grin wide and eager, clearly hoping for an excuse to avoid any homework.

Wanda laughs, a melodic sound that fills the kitchen. “It’s true! Plus, I could use some help keeping Tommy on track. We can talk about your studies too.”

You hesitate for a moment, considering the offer. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?” you ask, glancing between Wanda and Tommy.

Wanda shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm. “Not at all! It’s always more fun to share a meal. And I’d love to hear more about your experiences at Yale, especially your English Literature classes.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of spending more time with Wanda, diving deeper into conversation and sharing stories. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to stay.”

Wanda’s face lights up with happiness. “Great! Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll finish up here.” She moves back to the stove, and you take a seat at the kitchen island, feeling the warmth of her invitation settle around you

“Can I help you with anything?” You ask genuinely, wanting to show her your appreciation for letting you stay. 

“Just sit there and look pretty for me.” She smirks, looking at you over her shoulder as she starts to dish up the food that she’d made. She starts to softly hum to herself as you perch on the side. “This smells amazing,” you say, leaning closer to inhale the rich scent.

“It’s a family recipe for beef stew,” she replies, her eyes lighting up. “Tommy and Billy love it, especially on chilly days like today.”

The kitchen feels warm and inviting, and you admire how effortlessly she creates an atmosphere that feels both homey and elegant. As she plates the stew, you can’t help but appreciate the care she puts into everything she does.

“Dinner is served!” she announces, setting down two bowls, each steaming and inviting. The sight alone makes your mouth water, and you grab a warm roll from the basket nearby, slathering it with butter.

As you dig into the meal, you find yourself drawn into Wanda’s world. She shares anecdotes from her life, her voice soothing and engaging, while Tommy and Billy interject with playful commentary. The laughter that fills the kitchen feels intimate, and you notice how Wanda’s eyes sparkle when she talks about her passions.

Between bites, you steal glances at Wanda, captivated by the way she moves about the kitchen, effortlessly transitioning between tasks. Each moment with her feels charged, as if you’re discovering more than just a talented cook but a woman who radiates warmth and kindness.

As dinner winds down, Wanda leans back in her chair, satisfaction evident on her face. “I’m glad you decided to stay,” she says, and her smile feels like an invitation, a promise of more moments like this.

“Me too,” You reply, a flutter of excitement stirring within you. This cosy kitchen, filled with lingering scents of dinner and the warmth of shared laughter, felt right. 

As you sit there, enjoying the warmth of the kitchen and the fading light of the afternoon, your gaze drifts to Wanda. She moves with an effortless grace, her laughter mingling with the aroma of dinner, and you can’t help but admire the way her eyes light up when she engages in conversation. Each glance she steals in your direction feels laden with unspoken intentions, and you find yourself wondering what goes on in her mind. What motivates her to invite you into her home, to share this intimate moment with her family? There’s a softness to her demeanour, a hint of flirtation that suggests she sees more in you than just a tutor for Tommy. The warmth in her gaze ignites a mix of excitement and curiosity within you, making you contemplate the possibilities that lie ahead—possibilities that make your heart race with anticipation.

As Tommy and Billy finish their plates, they exchange playful glances before Tommy pushes his chair back. “Can I be excused? I need to go check something on my phone.”

“Me too! Can we play that new game?” Billy pipes up, bouncing in his seat.

“Alright, just keep it down,” Wanda replies with a smile, waving them off. The moment they scurry from the table, the atmosphere shifts, leaving just you and Wanda.

The air feels charged, almost electric. You lean back, savouring the lingering warmth of the meal and the soft glow of the kitchen light. Wanda glances toward the pantry and then looks back at you, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “How about a little wine to celebrate surviving our first tutoring session?”

You chuckle as she moves toward the cupboard, reaching for a bottle. She holds it up, tilting it slightly as if to gauge your reaction, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you think? Care to share a glass?”

“Why not?” you reply, intrigued by her casual invitation. Wanda pours two glasses, her movements fluid and graceful. As she hands you a glass, her fingers brush against yours, sending a small thrill through you.

“It’s nice to unwind after a long day, don’t you think?” she says, leaning against the counter, her gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart flutter.

“It definitely is,” you agree, raising your glass in a mock toast. “To surviving tutoring sessions and small towns.”

She laughs, her eyes lighting up, and you can’t help but admire the way she carries herself, exuding both warmth and confidence. “And to new beginnings.”

You take a sip, enjoying the rich flavours as the conversation flows effortlessly between you. “It’s weird being back in Westview. This town can feel so stifling,” you admit, twirling your fork absently. “I didn’t realise how freeing it would be to go to Yale and finally be able to express myself.”

Wanda tilts her head, her gaze locking onto yours with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Have you found anyone in Connecticut?” she asks, her voice light but filled with genuine interest.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Oh, there were plenty of people interested, but none that I could be bothered to get to know. Friends, sure, but not a girlfriend.”

“Really?” Wanda leans in slightly, her elbows resting on the table, interest evident in her expression. “Not even a little spark with anyone?”

Her question is playful, and you feel a rush of warmth. “I guess I just didn’t find anyone worth my time.”

Wanda’s smile widens, and she tilts her head slightly, her hair falling to one side. “You’re telling me a beautiful girl like you couldn’t find someone to take a chance on?” She leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s hard to believe.”

The playful banter makes your heart race. “Believe it or not, I’m not exactly the most sought-after prize.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she replies, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I find you quite intriguing.”

Feeling emboldened by her flirtation, you decide to take a bolder step, though you tread lightly, your curiosity tinged with an eagerness to learn more about her. “So, I’ve been curious about something,” you say, hesitating just a moment to build anticipation. 

“Hit me.” She says, her eyes twinkling as her finger traces the rim of her wine glass. 

“Your affair with Agatha, what was that like?”

Wanda’s expression shifts, the playful sparkle in her eyes momentarily flickering with surprise. “You’re quite the inquisitive one, aren’t you?” she replies, a mix of intrigue and wariness in her voice, but there’s an underlying thrill in her tone. “How did you even - no it doesn’t even matter.” She laughs, knowing immediately that Agatha wasn’t exactly one for keeping her mouth shut. 

You lean forward slightly, drawn in by her response. “I mean, it seems like it must have been complicated. You two have such a dynamic.” You let the words linger, allowing the weight of the question to settle between you.

Wanda tilts her head, contemplating her answer, her lips parting slightly as if to speak but then closing again. The silence hangs, thick with unspoken thoughts. “Complicated is one way to put it,” she finally admits, her voice softening. “It taught me a lot about myself, about what I wanted.”

“Did you ever think about what might have happened if things had gone differently?” you ask, your tone teasing but sincere, hoping to coax out more from her.

Wanda’s eyes meet yours, the intensity of her gaze making your heart race. “Sometimes,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers brushing against yours on the table. “How come you’re so interested in my love life young lady?”

“You asked about mine first.” It was your turn to wink this time and the reaction that you got from Wanda was completely worth it. Finally her cheeks blushed pink, her lips rolling against each other and her tongue poked against her cheek, something you realised was her tell. 

“You got me there sweetheart.” She hums, taking another sip of her wine, the sip turning into a glug, the wine matching the deep colour of her cheeks, highlighting the blonde highlights of her hair which she tucked behind her ear.

You watch her, captivated by the way she navigates the conversation with both grace and playful candour. Wanda’s demeanour radiates warmth, but there's an underlying intensity in her gaze that pulls you in even closer. She leans back slightly, her fingers swirling the wine glass, the deep red liquid catching the light in a way that mirrors the spark in her eyes.

“You know,” she starts, her voice light but teasing, “I didn’t expect such an insightful conversation over dinner. I usually just get ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ or ‘What’s your favourite drink?’” She laughs softly, a musical sound that echoes in the cosy kitchen, making you smile in response.

“Those questions have their charm, but I’d take a good chat about love lives any day,” you reply, letting your gaze linger on her lips as she speaks. “It’s way more interesting.”

Wanda’s smile widens, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Interesting, huh? So, you’re saying I’m interesting?” Her tone is playful, but there’s a subtle challenge behind it that makes your pulse quicken.

“Absolutely. You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. You can’t help but feel drawn to her, a magnetic pull that’s both thrilling and intoxicating.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she responds with a smirk, leaning closer again, her elbow brushing against yours. “But seriously, I’m curious. If you had to pick, what’s your type?”

You pause, considering your answer, but the way she’s looking at you makes it difficult to think clearly. “Honestly? Someone confident, a bit witty, maybe a little mysterious.” Your eyes meet hers, and you see a flicker of intrigue dance across her features. “You know, like someone who can keep me on my toes.”

“Oh really?” Wanda arches an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling into a sly grin. “I think I might know someone who fits that description.” Her gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes, a playful challenge lingering in the air between you.

“Do you now?” you tease, leaning closer, your heart racing as you embrace the flirtation. “Care to share?”

She chuckles softly, a soft sound that wraps around you like a warm blanket. “Maybe. But only if you promise to keep it a secret.”

“Cross my heart,” you reply, a playful seriousness in your tone, your heart thumping in anticipation.

“Alright,” she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Lets just say this person has a soft spot for pretty girls who can hold up their own in a conversation.” She bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief. 

You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks, and for a moment, you’re both lost in each other's gaze, the air thick with unspoken tension. Just then, you notice the clock on the wall and blink in surprise, realising how much time has passed. “Wow, I really should get going. I can’t believe how late it’s gotten.”

Wanda’s expression shifts slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face. “Oh, do you have to?”

“Yeah, I should” you begin, but she interrupts you, standing up and moving toward her purse.

“Wait, let me grab something for you,” she says, her tone light as she rummages through her bag. You take a moment to gather your things, but the atmosphere feels charged, and you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end.

As you slip on your coat, she turns to you, a hundred-dollar bill in her hand. “Here, take this,” she says, extending it toward you.

You glance at the money, then back at her, unsure. “Wanda, this is way too much. I can’t just take this.”

“Just take it, please,” she insists, her tone soft but firm. “Consider it a thank you for making dinner so enjoyable.”

Her fingers brush against yours as she tries to push the bill into your palm, and you can’t help but notice the warmth of her touch, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I really can’t”

“Just let me do this,” she interrupts, her eyes locking onto yours, an intensity behind them that leaves you breathless. “I want you to have it.”

With a sigh, you let her close your hand around the bill, the warmth of her touch lingering. “Alright, if you insist.” You grab your stuff and she follows you out towards the front door.

As you stand by the door, the weight of the moment settles around you, electrifying the air. Wanda moves closer, her gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sends your heart racing. You feel a thrill as she reaches up, her fingers gently brushing against your cheek, and then she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The soft caress sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but lean into her touch, savouring the warmth of her hand lingering near your face.

“There,” she says, her voice low and sultry, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Much better.” The way her fingers linger near your ear feels almost intimate, and you find yourself holding your breath, caught in the moment.

Wanda’s eyes search yours, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. “You always look beautiful,” she adds, her voice dropping just above a whisper, making your heart flutter. The compliment hangs in the air, thick with unspoken possibilities.

“Thanks,” you manage to reply, your voice softer than usual, the closeness between you two making the world outside fade away. You can feel the warmth radiating from her, a magnetism that draws you even closer. All you wanted was to tell her how beautiful you thought she was, pull yourself into a kiss as she slams you up against the door to her suburban house, but instead you can’t get the words out.

As she pulls her hand away, a slight blush creeps up her cheeks, and you notice the way her gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, an unspoken invitation that makes your pulse quicken. The chemistry between you crackles like electricity, and you can’t help but wonder what might happen next, the evening stretching before you with infinite possibilities.

“See you next Tuesday,” she says, a smile playing on her lips as she steps back, watching you with an expression that makes your heart race.

As you step outside, the cool air hits you, but the warmth of the moment lingers, not able to get it out of your head as you walk back home. Everything about her felt so wrong, but you couldn’t ignore the way her eyes gazing into yours made you feel, something so raw and exciting. She was magnetic, all you wanted to do was let your walls fall down and allow her to take you into her grasp, but you knew that you couldn’t, it was too risky. 

.-.

As soon as you reach your house, your thoughts are still tangled in the evening’s events, the warmth of her touches still ghosting over your skin. The immediate heat of the house matches the flush in your cheeks despite the chill of the cool night air. It feels unusually quiet, especially after the buzzing tension you’d just left behind. 

Kicking off your shoes, you move through the motions of getting ready for bed, but your mind keeps circling back to Wanda. The way her stare lingered on you, how she always leaned closer with each exchange, her fingers brushing yours. That last touch, the press of her hand around the money she forced into your palm, everything was making your skin burn uncontrollably. 

You slip into bed, your phone resting on the nightstand, its screen dim but somehow tempting, as if you half expect a message. You close your eyes, but Wanda’s image is imprinted there, her teasing smile, the way she tucked that loose strand of hair behind her ear, the flash of something daring in her eyes every time she glanced at you. There was no more denying it, you’re drawn to her in a way that feels inescapable. The flirting, the touches, she reads your mind without saying a word. 

Just as you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes softly, the screen lighting up with a name that makes you jump up in excitement. Wanda. 

You pick up without hesitation, “Hey Wanda,” you say, trying to keep your voice casual, as if you hadn’t been thinking about the way she’d look on top of you. 

“Hi,” She replies, her voice warm, a little lower than usual, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” You assure her, shifting slightly under the covers, your thighs squeezing together at nothing but the sound of her voice, “What’s up, it’s late?”

“I was just thinking about our conversation earlier,” She says, her tone deepening with every word she spoke, “I wanted to check in, make sure you got home safe.”

You smiled, touched by her genuine thoughtfulness, “I did, I’m just getting ready for bed.”

“Good, good.” Wanda murmurs. There’s a slight pause, and you hear her inhale deeply, “I, uh, was also thinking about what you said, about finding someone,”

You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat, the tension rising over telephone lines. “Yeah? What about it?”

Her voice drops lower, and there's a subtle shift in the air. You can hear her breathing, soft but uneven, something about it was different. “I guess it’s just, surprising, you know?” She whispers, “That someone as pretty as you hasn’t found anyone worth your time.” 

You shift the phone harder against your ear, suddenly hyper aware of the weight of her silence between every word. “Wanda?” You ask gently, her silence deafening. 

“I’m here,” She responds, but there's a catch in her voice, a breathless quality that wasn’t there before, “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you.”

Your breath catches, her words making your stomach flip and you could almost choke against her words, “About me?”

There's a soft sound on the other end of the line, a barely audible gasp. Wanda’s breathing hitches and you feel your pulse quicken as realisation dawns down on you. Her breaths are shallow, broken by quiet, restrained moans. 

The sudden intimacy of it makes your skin tingle, Wanda was touching herself, while talking to you. The idea sends a rush of heat straight through you, your own breath panting as you process what’s happening. Your mind circling down on the thought of her blowing a blonde strand of hair out of her face as her back arched against the palm of her hand. 

“I-” You don’t even know what to say. 

“You have no idea how much you've been on my mind.” Wanda whispers, her voice thick with pleasure, each word punctuated by the sounds of her breath quickening, “God, I couldn’t stop thinking about you even after you left.”

Her words are laced with heat, and you feel the tension between you spike, your body responding to the quiet sounds of her gasps, to the way her voice curls around each breathless word.

“I can’t stop imagining” She trails off, another soft moan escaping her, and it feels like it’s all for you, every breath, every sound. “What it’d be like if you were here”

The room feels hotter suddenly, your pulse pounding in your ears. You can picture her now, in her own bed, hand sliding against her skin, her body arching with every wave of pleasure. It’s almost overwhelming, how close she feels despite the distance, how intimate this moment has become.

“Wanda” you murmur, your voice betraying your own excitement, your body reacting to the sultry edge in her voice, to the rawness of this unexpected moment.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she teases softly, her voice a delicate thread of desire. “I can tell, I can hear it in your voice.”

You can’t help the way your body responds, heat pooling low in your belly, the thrill of her words sending sparks through your veins. This connection, the electric pull between you and Wanda, feels impossible to ignore now. You could feel your arousal building between your legs, doing everything you could to not join her. 

“Tell me what you’d do,” Wanda whispers, the soft, sensual command in her voice making you shiver. You swallow hard, the intimacy of her question hanging in the air, the weight of what she’s asking leaving you breathless.

Your breath catches at her words, the weight of Wanda’s request settling over you, igniting something deep within. There’s a moment of silence, thick and heavy, as you process the intimacy of what she’s asking. You can practically hear the soft rustle of sheets on her end, her breath laboured but controlled, a steady rhythm that mirrors your own quickened heartbeat.

You close your eyes, sinking further into your bed, the thought of her, so vulnerable and uninhibited—making your skin flush. “I…I don’t know,” you murmur, feeling your own voice falter with nervous excitement. But even as you say it, your mind spins with possibility. You know exactly what you’d want to do but you’d never been with a woman before, you’d never been with anyone like that before. You knew that nobody knew that you were still a virgin, but you weren't ready to admit that. 

Wanda’s voice softens, her tone coaxing but still thick with desire. “Come on,” she whispers, and you can almost see the playful smirk on her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. “Oh I see.” She chuckles through breathy gasps. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” You gasp at her words, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Wanda, I-” You couldn’t help it, no words were coming out. The nerves of your inexperience coming through so obviously  in the waver in your voice. 

“It’s okay sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re doing do you?” Her soft moan echoes down the line, a breathless, sensual sound that sends a shiver through you, “You don’t know how to pleasure a woman like you pretend to, do you.” Wanda’s words drip with seductive authority, her voice threading through the phone like a secret. "You don’t have to pretend with me," she purrs, her breath quickening, sending shivers down your spine. "I’ll teach you. All you have to do is listen."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the sheer intimacy of her voice making your body react in ways you hadn’t expected. You shift under the covers, your skin burning with a mixture of desire and nervousness. "I’ve never—" you start, but your voice cracks, barely above a whisper. The admission hangs in the air, your vulnerability on full display.

"I know," Wanda murmurs softly, her tone teasing yet reassuring, as though she had known all along. "But I can show you, if you let me."

You can hear her breathing, now quicker, almost ragged, as if the very thought of guiding you through this is bringing her to the edge. "Do you want me to show you, darling?" she whispers, the question itself a caress. "Do you want me to tell you exactly how I’d fuck you?"

Your breath catches again, your pulse racing, the words sending heat coursing through you. “Yes,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice. "I want you to."

Wanda hums softly, pleased with your surrender, and you can hear the shift of her body, the subtle movements of fabric and skin. "Good girl," she whispers, her words laced with a satisfaction that makes your chest tighten with want. "I want you to close your eyes and imagine me there with you, my hand tracing up your thigh, slipping under your clothes, touching you exactly where you need me."

You can hear the faint sound of Wanda’s breath catching, her own pleasure mounting as she describes it to you. “Can you feel that? My fingers on you?” she asks, her voice breathy and low, pushing you to the edge of your self-control.

“Yes,” you whisper back, your voice shaky, lost in the heat of the moment.

“Tell me what you want,” she says, her voice deepening, the sensual command impossible to resist. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

You’re trembling now, caught between desire and nervous excitement, but you push past the nerves, your need for her overtaking everything else. “I want you to touch me, to fuck me,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper, the words trembling on your lips.

Wanda’s breath hitches, and you hear the unmistakable sound of her pleasure, a soft gasp escaping her as she touches herself. "Say it again," she demands, her voice thick with lust, desperate to hear your desire.

“Wanda,” you moan softly, giving in to the pull of her words, the fantasy she’s woven around you. “I need you to fuck me. I want you to touch me, make me yours.”

The sound of her gasp on the other end of the phone sends a wave of heat through you, and you can hear her losing control, her breathing turning rugged and uneven. "Mmm, you’re such a good girl," she purrs between breaths, her voice dark with desire. "You’d let me take you, wouldn’t you? Let mommy fuck you until you can’t think straight."

There it was, you let out a moan at the way she titled herself. You knew you’d been into that for years now, but never daring to tell anybody, but of course she knew, she could read you so well. You nod, even though she can’t see you, your entire body aching for her touch. “Yes, please mommy, I want it so badly.”

Wanda moans softly, her pleasure evident, and you can almost picture her, the way her body must be arching under her own touch, lost in the same heat that’s consuming you. "I’d make you beg for it, sweetheart. I’d have you trembling beneath me, begging for more."

You bite your lip, your breath catching at the raw hunger in her voice, your own need reaching a fever pitch. "I’d beg," you admit, barely able to find your voice. "I’d beg for you mommy."

Her breath comes faster now, a soft, breathless moan escaping her lips. "That’s my girl," she whispers, her voice breaking with the weight of her own pleasure. "You’d be mine. All mine.”

Wanda's moan on the other end of the line grows louder, ragged with need, as if your words pushed her even closer to the edge. You can hear the soft rustle of sheets, the unmistakable wet sounds of her fingers moving faster, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The image of her, undone and desperate for release, fills your mind, stoking the fire building within you.

“Say it again,” she demands, her voice thick with desire, trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. “Tell me what you want, tell me you’re mine.”

Your pulse races, each beat louder than the last, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. You grip the phone tighter, biting your lip, but you know she wants more than your silence. “I’m yours, Wanda,” you whisper, breathless, giving her exactly what she needs. “I’ll do anything. Just please, fuck me. Make me yours, mommy.”

The sound she makes in response is guttural, a low, throaty moan that sends shivers down your spine. “Oh, fuck.” she gasps, her control slipping further with every passing second. You can hear her fingers moving faster, the wetness of her arousal audible through the phone, and it’s intoxicating, pulling you under with her.

“Good girl,” Wanda breathes, her voice barely holding together as she edges closer to climax. “You’d be so good for me, wouldn’t you? Let me fuck you whenever I want, take you however I want.”

“Yes, yes,” you whimper, your own arousal becoming overwhelming, your body aching for her. “Please, Mommy, I’d be so good for you. I’d let you do anything to me.”

That’s all she needs.

With a sharp, shuddering breath, Wanda moans loud into the phone, the sound of her orgasm raw and uncontrolled. Her breath catches, breaking into uneven gasps, and you can hear the wet sound of her fingers as she rides out the wave of pleasure, her body clearly shaking from the force of it. Each sound she makes is laced with satisfaction, a deep, throaty hum of ecstasy as her release takes over completely.

You can barely breathe, your body reacting to the sheer intimacy of hearing her come undone, your own desire pooling low in your belly, desperate and needy. Wanda’s breathing gradually slows, her soft, contented sighs filling the air between you, and you close your eyes, imagining the flush on her cheeks, the way her body must be lying spent against the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” she whispers, her voice still heavy with satisfaction. “I can’t wait to hear you beg for real.”

“Wanda, I don’t know what to say.” You admit, your brain fuzzy and spaced out at the unexpected nature of her call. You’d only been back home for a few days and you had no idea how much of an impression you’d made on the older woman.

“You don’t have to know what to say honey, that’s my job.” She hums as you hear the click of heels against tiled flooring. You could almost choke on the sound, she wasn’t in her bedroom, she was in the kitchen, the echoing of her words now making sense as each moan had bounced around the emptiness of the room. 

“Are you in the kitchen?” you ask breathlessly, biting your lip as you imagine her there, the scene playing out in your head like a movie. You envision her bending over the kitchen island, the soft glow of the lights casting a warm hue over her skin as she calls you, wanting you to picture every moment of her tantalising routine.

“Maybe,” Wanda teases, her voice dripping with mischief. “Will I see you next Tuesday?” 

You feel a thrill rush through you at her question, the way she asks it, sending your heart racing. "You know I’ll be there," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with eagerness.

“Good,” Wanda replies, a satisfied hum escaping her lips. 

“Goodnight, Wanda,” you murmur, your heart fluttering with excitement as the call ends, leaving you with thoughts of her dancing through your mind. As soon as you heard the line end, you reached down to your underwear, the fabric completely soaked and you threw your head back in frustration. You wanted to touch yourself, but it felt wrong, you wanted to leave yourself in desperate heat, making you want Wanda even more.

[justmeinadaze]

November Rain (Boxer!Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: I dreamed about this idea and my time of the month fueled it.

Please Enjoy <3

Warnings: Older (Early to Mid 30s) Dominate Boxer Eddie X Plus Size Fem younger (early to mid 20s) sub Y/N, SMUT, Daddy kink (because Im me), light spanking, big dick Eddie Munson :P, etc.

ANGST, reader meets the boxer while on a date with someone else, mentions of pain from the ring but nothing too dramatic, reader and Eddie mentions just getting out of relationships, nothing negative is mentioned about Y/N size <3. All positive and Eddie thinks she's perfect :). CLIFFHANGER ENDING 😈

Word Count: 4753

Other Eddie Stories here/ Donate to Me

"When I look into your eyes

I can see a love restrained

But darlin' when I hold you

Don't you know I feel the same?"

“Paige, I hate you. This guy is the worst.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad! Lol. Where did he take you?”

“A boxing match.”

“NO! Lol. Oh my god. I hate boxing and how the fuck are you supposed to talk there?”

“He’s taking me to a bar after.”

“Text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead :P.”

“Love you to, dork.”

“Who are you talking to?”, your blind date asks as he lightly nudges you with his shoulder. 

“Paige. I’m just telling her how nice you are and that you haven’t murdered me yet.”

“Ha! Well, the night’s still young.”, he laughed causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion, not out of fear but annoyance that he thought that was the appropriate thing to say to someone he only met an hour ago.

When your friend and roommate suggested you go on this blind date you originally declined. You had just gotten out of a 2-year relationship and wasn’t in the mood to dive back in. After a couple of lonely (and needy) nights, you changed your tune. 

She insisted he was a nice guy she knew from work and he absolutely was but it didn’t overshadow his awkward personality. When he suggested coming to a boxing match, you were actually intrigued thinking it was an out of the box idea instead of going to the movies or dinner. As the small arena began to fill, you found yourself more fascinated by the people around you casually talking about one of the fighters. 

Eddie Munson was a “veteran” in the field, being a bit older than most boxers in the ring. He had won multiple matches but for whatever reason managers and venues didn’t take him seriously. The kid he was fighting had many accolades and higher stats but his wins matched his opponents from the pamphlet you skimmed through while you two waited. 

As the lights lowered and both men were introduced into the ring, you couldn’t help but focus on the older boxer. He was extremely handsome with his sharp jaw and intense, piercing eyes that commanded attention. His chest and muscular arms were littered with tattoos that accented his physique perfectly.  

With all the cheering and commotion around the ring, you were surprised when his eyes landed on you. He tried to look away but you noticed his gaze kept lingering back to where you were sitting. Trying not to appear intimidated, you smirked his way and leaned back in your seat where your date’s arm was strewn along the back. The boxer slowly took you in, scanning along the short sleeve black dress that clung tightly to your busty chest and large curves. Your high heeled shoe absently tapped the air as he glanced down your legs and back up to your face. 

Someone you assumed was his coach, tapped his shoulder and forced him to focus as he screamed instruction into his ear. Rising to his feet, the person took his robe before he headed for the middle of the ring. On his short stride, his gaze shifted towards you again making your smile grow as you silently mouth the words “Good Luck.”

Eddie jumps slightly as the announcer’s voice flows loudly near him startling him as you giggle and he shakes his head.

***

“Yeah so I do contracting at this firm and it’s so stupid but…”

You don’t know if your date notices but your eyes had begun to glaze over as he spoke. Your date seemed like a nice enough guy but was definitely not your cup of tea. The one thing you feared about dating again was mundane shit that came with casual conversation. You always wished you could skip over this part and get to the moment where you were comfortable again. 

“I feel like I’m droning on and on. Tell me about you.”

“Oh…um…there’s not much to tell really.”

“Of course there is. Tell me about your job, your family, everything!”, he chuckles a bit too enthusiastically as you try to hide your cringe behind your smile. 

“Excuse me, miss. Telephone for you.”, the bartender interrupts as he points at his phone near the end of the counter.

“Oh, thank you. Excuse me.”

After hopping down from your stool, you make your way to the telephone and put it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“I thought maybe I’d give you a minute of peace from chatty Cathy.”, the smooth voice on the other end laughs. 

“Hm. How do you know I wasn’t enjoying the chat?”, you ask as your eyes fleet around the bar.

“Well first off, you were way too eager to get away. I mean you didn’t even ask who was calling. Add in the fact that your face is worth a thousand words, sweetheart.”

It takes you another few seconds before you find your mystery caller leaning against the wall by the front door on his cell phone. The long-haired boxer’s grin grew when your eyes met his as his subtly waved his fingers in your direction. 

“Wanna get out of here?”

“I’m in the middle of date. I can’t just leave.”, you tease knowing full well you’d let him kidnap you if that meant leaving this date behind.

“There’s only so long you can keep up this rouse before he starts getting suspicious so I would make a decision quickly.”

“Pfft, his brain doesn’t move that fast.”

The man’s laugh echoed into your ear straight to your heart as you blushed, glad that you had the ability to make someone laugh like he just had. 

“Honey, a woman as beautiful as you in that sexy dress shouldn’t be bored out of her mind. She should be having her mind blown.”

“And you’re the man to do that?”

“I’d like to try if you give me the chance. I have a feeling you’re not easy to please like all these other giggly girls and I like a challenge.”

“Smooth, Mr. Munson.”, you giggle.

“Ah, so you were there to see me fight.”

“No, sir. It was just a happy accident.”

“Ooooo sir. I like that. You can just call me Eddie for right now though.”

“I prefer the term Daddy.”

It was no longer subtle that the two of you were staring at each other from across the bar. His breathing stutter slightly and you bit your bottom lip to force them to remain still even though you wanted to smirk his way. 

“Y/N? Everything alright?”, your date asked as he placed himself in the chair next to where you were standing. 

“Y/N.”, Eddie repeated as if he was trying to familiarize himself with your name. When you didn’t reply, your date’s palm reaches out to slide down your arm and take your hand in his. “I’m counting every second he touches you. That’s how many times I’m going spank you for allowing it.”

A tear runs down your cheek and you see regret flash through his eyes, worried he may have gone too far before he sees you hang up the phone and pull your hand from your date’s grasp. 

“I have to go. My brother was in-in an accident.”, you cry as you make a beeline to where the boxer was standing near the coat check desk. “Excuse me.”, you murmur as your arm brushes chest, the contact sending a little electricity through you both. 

“No problem.”, he mumbles as he turns to leave, making sure the back of his hand grazes yours as he does. 

“Do you want me to drive you—”

“No, no its ok. My sister lives close by so she’s going to pick me up. She’s the one that called.”

“Ok, well, let me at least wait with you.”

“Alright. You pay and I’ll wait outside.”

After he nods, you sprint outside to find Eddie sitting on a motorcycle offering you a helmet. 

“Really?”, you sass as you take it from his hand and slide it onto your head. 

“Psh like you don’t like it.”

Revving the engine, you cling to his waist as he drives off into the night.

***

Your eyebrow raises as pulls up to a gym and sifts through his pockets to search for his keys. 

“Yeah, um, welcome to my humble abode for the time being.”

“You live in a gym?”

“I live in the back of a gym. Big difference.”

“Oh absolutely.”, you jest as you allow him to lead you inside. “I would figure with how good of a fighter you are, you’d have Rocky 4 levels of riches.”

Again, he cackles as he throws his head back and in that moment, you started to realize you would do anything to continue hearing that sound. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone from your generation mention such an old movie.”

“It’s not that old and neither are you.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet.”, he smiles as he opens another door in the back and gestures you inside. “I kind of started boxing a bit late in the game compared to everyone else around me. Some of these kids have been doing it their whole lives and I only started training 10 years ago.”

As you take in his little room, Eddie heads to his mini fridge to grab a couple of beers. You could tell, he hadn’t been here long, living out of a suitcase for the time being. 

“How long are you stuck here?”

“I actually just got an apartment so I move in, in about a month.”

“What happened to your last place?”

Eddie smiles as he hands you one of the bottles in his hand. 

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m inquisitive.”, you smirk back as tilt the beer to clink with his before taking a sip. “I need to know if this is where you take your hookups to hide from your wife.”

“What makes you think I’m married?”

“Huh.”, you muse as you take a seat on his couch/bed. “Most men would immediately deny. ‘Oh, no, baby! I’m not married. I swear.’”

The boxer rushes forward as you speak to hastily move his sheets and pillow on to another chair before taking a seat beside you. 

“I’m, um, no I’m not married.”, he chuckles nervously. “Full transparency, I actually just got out of relationship so if I seem…awkward…that’s why.”

“I think you’re doing alright.”, you smile as you turn to face him getting more comfortable and he does the same. “Better than chatty Cathy.”

Again, he laughs and again you swoon. 

“If it makes you feel better I just got out of a two-year relationship myself.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. How long has it been?”

“A few months.”

“Geez and you’re already dating?” When you don’t laugh like he does, Eddie panics as you sip your beverage. “No, that came out wrong. I just meant that you’re doing better than me. It’s been a year since I’ve even seen my ex and dating hadn’t even crossed my mind. Fuck, I sound like an idiot.”

Your giggle pierces his heart and he melts in relief. 

“No, you don’t. May I ask what made you find the confidence to ask me over?”

“I saw you from the ring and thought you were a fucking angel I’d never see again. When I walked into the bar and saw you, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity slip away.”

“Wow. Smooth again, Mr. Munson.”

“I thought you preferred Daddy.” You blushed as your head dipped, trying to hide your eyes but his callused fingers quickly reached out to grab your chin forcing you to look at him again. “This…This goes without saying but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just talk or—”

Your lips on his interrupted his gentlemanly speech before tilting back slightly so your mouth wasn’t far but you could still see his face. 

“Do I make you nervous, Daddy?”

“Fuuuuuuuck.”, Eddie whispers as both palms cup your cheeks. “I don’t want t-to disappoint you.”

Slowly, you crawl over him till your straddling his lap and take hold of his hands to guide them to your wide hips.

“You won’t, baby, but if this isn’t something you’re into—”

“No, no, no. I’m into it.”, he rushes making you giggle as his face flushes with embarrassment at his earnestness. “My ex wasn’t… she tried for me a couple of times but...”

“You never really fully got to take control?”

“I told you it’s been a while since I’ve dated but it’s been even longer since I was able to be Daddy.”

“Sounds lonely.” His head tilts to the side at your statement as his brows furrow. “People don’t understand it but when I’m in my little girl headspace I feel safe when I’m with the right partner. It’s natural for me sometimes when I’m intimate to slip into that mode and if I was with someone who couldn’t satisfy that… I would feel lonely…like I did something wrong.”

When your eyes meet his again, Eddie’s smiling up at you with a softness you appreciate. 

“Thank you for coming to my TED talk.”

His body shakes as he laughs and you feel the energy in the room lighten. 

Comfortable.

Bringing your lips to his, he reciprocates with more confidence.

“Take your time and ease back into it.”, you whisper. 

You continue to grind against him as you murmur soft words in his ear and his hands roam your back. Gripping the bottom of your dress, he lifts it up your body and groans as his eyes hungrily take you in. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” Smirking, you slide off him, your eyes never leaving his as you remove your panties and toss them at his chest. “Leave your shoes on and crawl to Daddy, baby.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, his confidence in the title starting to return. Sinking to your knees, you do as he says making him groan as he unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his ankles allowing his cock to spring free. 

As he spits into his hand and strokes himself, you pause. 

“Jesus. You’re so fucking big.”

“Hey.”, Eddie growls causing your head to snap at attention. “Watch your mouth.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ve just…” You continue to crawl forward till your hands balance on his knees. “…never had a dick as big as yours inside me. I-I don’t know if it will fit.”

“Shit. It’ll fit, pretty girl. We’ll make it fit. You just have to get it nice and wet.”

After nodding in agreement, he hisses as your hand wraps around him and the tip of your tongue darts out to lick the little beads of precum that had begun to leak out.

“Goddamn it, Y/N.”

Opening your mouth wide, you test the waters and bob your head taking half of him as you allow your tongue to swirl around his head along his slit. 

“T-That’s it, baby.”, Eddie pants as he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to get a better look at you’re doing. “Good girl. Your mouth feels so…so good. Try and take more, sweetheart.”

You do as he asks and promptly gag as your throat constricts around him. 

“Fuck! That’s it. Take it, baby. Choke on Daddy’s cock. Let m-me help.” Holding you tightly, you allow him to use you as he thrusts his hips and his dick hits the back of your throat. “There we go. Mouth open, flat tongue. So fucking beautiful taking my dick like this.”

Tears spill, smearing your make up as he lets you go and you take in big gulps of air. Grasping your cheeks, he kisses your lips as his thumbs wipe away the stains under your eyes. 

“Such a good girl… so good for me. I should have asked but do you have a safe word? Is Red still a good one?”

Eddie smiles as you breathily laugh and give him a peck before climbing up his lap to straddle him again. 

“Red is still good.”

“Turn around, sweetheart.”

After doing what he says, your whole body melts into his slightly sweaty chest as his arms wrap around you. Gripping the base of his shaft, you shutter as he slides his cock between your folds, teasing your clit with his tip. 

“You’re so wet, little girl, fuck. Are you ready for Daddy, baby?”

“Yes. Please.” Lifting your hips to help guide him, the boxer begins to gradually push himself inside of you. “Oh…f-fuck…”

“Are you ok?”, he whispers in your ear as you fully fall back against him. 

“Yeah, yeah. It…feels so good…so big. Mmnah!”, you whine as he slowly thrusts in another inch stretching you open. 

“You’re doing so good for me, Y/N. Take your time.  We have all night, honey.” 

Your half lidded eyes watch as he runs his tongue along his fingers before bringing them down to massage circles against your clit, feeling your pussy flutter and allowing him more leeway as you both groan feeling your lap finally connect with his. 

“You’re—mmph—so fucking tight.”

Experimentally, you roll your hips and the moan that leaves his lips has your eyes rolling as you do it again. You know his fingers gripping your love handles will leave bruises as he starts to guide you but you don’t care as you suck hickies into his neck, smiling at the vibration as he groans. 

“Bounce, pretty girl. Fuck me hard.”

Balancing your hands on his knees, your head lulls forward as you bounce on top of him, mewling repetitive ahs as he slams into that sensitive spot inside you. His palm comes down hard on your ass as he continues to knead his fingers into the plump flesh. 

“God, I can’t get over how fucking sexy you are. Cum for Daddy, sweetheart. Make—fuck—make yourself cum on my cock.”

Falling back against him, his wide lust filled eyes watch as one of your arms comes around to cling to the back of his neck as your other brings your hand to massage your breast. Eddie had never met a woman like you before and was pretty sure he would never meet again. 

Even with his ex, she used to be pretty open minded but never seemed to carry the kind of confidence you did. He knew when he saw you from the ring that you were different but he had promised himself he would focus on his career for the time being before jumping into anything new relationship wise. 

But how could he let you walk out that door tomorrow morning and let you go?

Your body trembled against him and he grunted as your cunt gripped his cock as you came. You rode out your high and the feeling made him almost feral as he picked you up to move you both the floor.

With his hand firmly holding the back of your neck smushing your cheek into the floor, Eddie thrust into you with rough abandon as you fell apart beneath him. 

“Oh my Goooooood. So fucking deep.”

Twisting his hand to curl his fingers in your hair, he yanked you closer to his chest and slowed his pace but not his intensity as his skin slapped obscenely into yours.

“Does my dick feel good, sweetheart?”

“Yeeeeesss—mmmah!”

“Tell me. Tell Daddy how much this tight little pussy loves my cock.”

“Y-Your cock feels so good, Daddy. My pussy was made for you.” As you spoke, his forehead rested against your cheek as his eyes shut and he found his rhythm again. “I want to feel you cum inside me, baby please.”

His eyes snapped open as he scanned your face realizing immediately you were telling the truth. 

“Don’t—Don’t say shit like that, little girl, unless you mean it.”

“P-P-Please, Daddy. I promise I’m safe. I need you to fill me up. I need to feel how good my pussy made you feel.”

“Goddamn it.”, Eddie grunted, pulling out and aggressively flipping you over onto your back before guiding himself back inside you. 

Your legs promptly wrapped around his waist and he pounded into you knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“Just like that, Daddy. I’m—fuck—M’gonna cum again. Cum with me.”

Balancing on his palms, his chocolate irises took in all of your beautiful features as they contorted in pleasure. It had been so long since he made a woman feel this good and he desperately wanted to please you. Your palms massaged along his slightly sore arms and his chest, gliding effortlessly over his bruises that were beginning to form from his fight earlier that night. 

None of that mattered. 

Every ache and pain he carried from the ring, disappeared as soon as you touched him and all he could focus on was the warmth that was you. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want.”

Circling your arms around him, you pulled him against your body, needing to absorb him as he rolled his hips, grunting in your ear till you felt his release warm you deeper than any man you had before. The whine Eddie made as his fingers clung to your hair was enough to have the coil snap for the final time that night as your pussy tried to milk everything he had to give. 

You both laid there together silently intertwined for a good long while as you tried to catch your breaths. 

“Are you ok?”, you whisper.

Pushing up onto his elbows, his hand moves some stray hairs away from your sweaty face as he softly smiles down at you. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m good. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, a little sore.”, you answer as your eyes gesture between your bodies. 

“Shit, ok, um, I’ll go slow. Ready?” When you nodded, as gently as he could, he pulled out of your aching cunt, cooing praise at you as you winced. “Good. Good girl. We, um, I don’t have a shower in here but there are locker rooms with showers if you want or we can stay here of course.”

“I’d like to shower, please.”

The way you said please told him you were still coming down from that headspace causing your words to echo in his brain about how lonely it can be being stuck there and not being taken care of properly. 

Rising to his feet, he hastily helped you to yours before taking you in his arms and caring you to the locker room. 

“Thank you. I’m not too heavy?”

“Not at all, princess.”

You watch his face as he turns on the water and makes cute little faces as the cold water hits his hand first before steaming up the area. As he cleaned your skin, his tongue poked out the side of his mouth making a little giggle fall from yours. 

“What are you laughing at?”

“You.”, you smile. “You’re just really adorable.”

“Thank you? I think.”, he grins as he comes up to kiss your forehead.

After you’re both clean and back in his room, he pulls out the couch to turn it into a bed and places you on it before you notice him pause. 

“I, um, I just assumed you’d be falling asleep here. I’m sorry. Did…did you need to get home?”

“Um…” You meant what you said when it came to relationships. You weren’t ready to jump into a new one and when you let him bring you home you told yourself this was just going to be a onetime thing but you couldn’t deny there was something about this man that made you feel safe. Maybe you could just take things slow and see where it led. “No, I can stay.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned down to kiss your lips. Throwing one his shirts over your frame, you laughed as he pulled on his boxers and obnoxiously jumped into bed.

With your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, the two of you talked till the sun slowly began to rise outside his window. 

##################

“I thought you were dead!”, Paige shouted as she lightly pushed your arm before getting up to hug you when she saw you walk into the restaurant you two were supposed to be meeting at. “You didn’t text me or anything and when I woke up you weren’t home.”

“I know! I’m so sorry. I got caught up with someone…”, you grin as your eyes bashfully meet hers.

“Oh, tell me everything.”

The two of you giggle as you regale her with the story of the previous night’s events as you swoon over the older boxer you met. 

“Ugh, well I’m glad something good came from boxing.”, she sassed, sticking out her tongue for emphasis. 

“Good lord, what is it with you and boxing? Were you once a fighter who lost her dream when another fighter broke your neck?”

“No, you movie nerd.”, she laughs. “My dad’s a boxer. I mean I guess you can call him that. He’s a mechanic but decided randomly to start training to fight.”

“Your dad the deadbeat?”

“Yeah. He went training 24/7 and it killed my mother. They stopped spending time together and when they were together they fought constantly. One day a few months ago, he was just gone and next thing I know they are getting a divorce.”

“I’m so sorry, Paige. I know how hard divorce is on a family.”

“He’s supposed to meet me today to get some more of his things. He doesn’t have a place right now and begged my mom to hold his stuff till he found something. I guess he’s won a good amount of matches because he told her the other day he’d saved enough money to finally move. My mom refuses to see him so I’m the messenger I guess.”

“Do you want me to lag behind so I can be your reason to leave? ‘Oh here’s my roommate. We have to go.’”, you joke.

“My saint. Would you please? Op, speak of the goddamn devil.”, she sighs as she flashes you her phone screen. “I’ll meet you outside.”

As she walks outside, you hurry to pay so she’s not alone for too long. Paige was a wonderful roommate and an even better friend. When you met her, you had just had your breakup and nowhere to go. She was sympathetic to your plight and helped you at your absolutely lowest. She got you get back on your feet and now after meeting Eddie, maybe things were finally on the right track again. 

“You don’t have to do this, sweetheart. I can drive down there and get my things myself. She shouldn’t be asking you to be the ‘middleman’. This is between me and your mother.”

“I don’t mind doing it after what you did to her. Imagine how she’d feel if you showed up covered in hickeys. Hide that shit better.”, Paige shouted as she slammed her trunk closed and her father lifted the collar of his jacket. “Whatever doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters to you now is yourself and your dreams, you fucking asshole.”

“Paige, please. Can we just talk so I can explain some things—”

“No, we can’t. My roommates here and we need to go home. Right, Y/N?”, she growls as she turns to face you. 

Your eyes widen as you come face to face with Paige’s “deadbeat” father. Eddie seems equally as surprised as his jaw falls open. 

“Th-This is the girl you moved in with?”, he whispered.

“What do you care? She’s my friend and mom loves her. Come on, Y/N.”

As your roommate, grips your arm and pulls you to her car, you struggle to take your eyes off the older man as his own irises sullenly follow.

Of course. How could I be so stupid to think things would get better? I should have refused the blind like I wanted to. If I had this would never have happened. I’m a fucking idiot. 

As Eddie watches his daughter speed away with the angel he met last night, he pulled the piece of paper you left by his nightstand with your phone number and a note saying you needed to meet your roommate for lunch but you would talk to him later. 

His heart fell into his stomach as the notion ran through his head that you may never want to speak with him again. 

################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart @chelebelletx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paleidiot

[ladykailitha]

Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate

Welcome to the little story I was working on during my move! Just a fun little thing to keep my writing streak going without have to dive into my heavy hitters.

The original idea is here.

I originally planned to go farther than the original idea like season 2-4 but as I was just needing something lighthearted it became a short little story three chapters long that might get turned into a series of What if's.

Summary: After the events surrounding Will Byers and his return to life, Steve has decided he can't control anything in his life but school, so he seeks to put a stop to the bullying. Cue Eddie getting heart-eyes over popular King Steve protecting his little sheepies. So he decides Steve needs a knew title. Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate will work just fine.

~

Steve was still reeling from actual fucking monsters and shit. And he actually had to go to school the following Monday like none of it had happened.

Fuck, they didn’t even offer therapy, just NDAs and money to keep their mouths shut. He had no doubt that the Byers family and Nancy had the worst of it, so he wasn’t even mad that she broke up with him.

He got it more than most people that she needed to time to grieve the lost of her best friend, be with family and hold them close for awhile.

It sucked.

Steve wasn’t going to pretend that it didn’t, because it absolutely did. But he understood. He told Nancy that if she ever needed a friend to give him a call.

His temper was short and his capacity for bullshit was low, that was the only reason he could come up with what happened that Monday morning.

He walked into the hall that held his locker to his books for the day when he saw Tommy H. having a go at some freshman. Like this kid still looked like he was in elementary, he looked that little.

“Knock it off, Hagan,” Steve huffed. “There is no reason to be harassing this kid.”

Tommy turned around and got in his face. “What’s it to you, Harrington? I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Dude,” Steve said, stepping forward instead of back like Tommy thought he would, “why are you so angry all the time? Chill out.”

Tommy’s head reared back as though he’d been struck in the face. He pushed Steve away. “Again, what’s it to you? You want to be friends again now that Miss Priss is finished with your scaly ass? Because where was my loyalty? We’ve been friends for years and you threw it all away for some piece of ass!”

Steve didn’t even stumble, he just crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what you did was over the line and you did it anyway. Because that’s the problem, Hagan, isn’t it? You don’t know where the fucking line is, do you?”

Tommy frowned and tried to push him again, but Steve just let his body slide with the motion and it didn’t even hurt. Tommy stared at him for a moment before stalking off down the hallway to his own locker. Steve just shook his head and went over to the kid who Tommy had been bullying.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked gently, helping him pick up his books. “If he does that again, you come running for me. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington, just ask around, someone will know how to find me, yeah?”

The kid nodded and took the books back from Steve before he took off in a tear. Steve sighed and he put his hands on his hips like a disappointed mom.

He looked around the hall to see everyone staring at him in shock. And that was when he realized what he had done.

Last week, he might have called Tommy off, but not really done anything about it. But he had not only called Tommy off, he put him in his place, and then helped the kid.

Yeah that was quite the turn around. So he just did like he would have done at basketball game.

He clapped his hands together once, nice and loud to make sure everyone was paying attention to him even more now.

“Right,” he said loudly. “Nothing more to see here. Move along now.”

They stared at him in even further shock now.

“Come on,” Steve said impatiently. “Move along. Shoo!” He waved his hands in front of him, trying to get them leave, but it was like herding cats.

Someone slammed their locker and that broke them out of their trance allowing them to move about their day like that didn’t just happen.

Steve looked around and saw Eddie Munson leaning against his locker, with his arms crossed. A locker, Steve was pretty sure was open when he walked in that morning.

Huh.

That was certainly interesting.

~

Eddie had been having a rough morning. He spilled milk on his only clean pair of jeans. He was going to do laundry after school. He was! He just didn’t do it over the weekend because he had gotten a new book. A book that was currently being painstakingly dried out by Uncle Wayne with an old hair dryer, because Eddie dropped it in the sink. Then he almost forgot his homework and had to run back for it. He had managed to get to school on time, but Tommy H. had decided to chose violence that morning against a nerdy little freshman literally next to his locker.

He promised Uncle Wayne that if Tommy started something that he wouldn’t fucking finish it. He needed to graduate from high school and as it much as it sucked ass, he had to look the other way.

So imagine his surprise when Steve got in Tommy’s face and almost threw hands with the guy, telling him to back off. What was even more surprising was how quickly Tommy stood down.

But that wasn’t the last of Steve Harrington’s surprises, oh no...

He helped the kid gather up his stuff and offered himself as a white knight if Tommy did it again. But by then Harrington had drawn quite the crowd, but instead of soaking the attention like the full tilt diva the asshole jock most certainly was, he had tried to disperse the crowd. Like the attention had made him uncomfortable.

So he thought he’d throw the king a bone and slammed his locker shut. The loud noise startled the populous out of their stupor and sent them packing. He was more than a little shocked to see that maybe Steve had figured out who had rescued him.

And wasn’t that a kick in the head.

By the time he got to lunch news had spread that that morning’s incident was only the start of the king’s campaign to clean up the hallowed halls of Hawkins High. According to ye ole rumor mill, Steve had broken up a fight, called out two accounts of bullying, and stopped a class from rioting when the teacher had a medical emergency.

What was even more surp– he needed to find another word. Shocking. Astounding. Astonishing. Mind-boggling.

Anyway Steve sat down next to Carol and Tommy. Like even the great ex Nancy Wheeler dropped her fork, flabbergasted.

Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance.

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Tommy growled. “Why don’t you sit next to your girlfriend? Oh that’s right she dumped your ass.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “You made a valid point, we have been friends for years and I’ve decided I’m tired of running away from my problems.”

“And what,” Carol sneered, “we’re one of your problems now? Fuck off, Steve.”

Steve threaded his fingers together and rested his chin on his knuckles. “You didn’t use to be this way, you know. You used to be the sweetest girl and I’m trying to figure out if it was Tommy that made you this way or if you turning into a bitch is what made Tommy become such an ass?”

Tommy and Carol’s heads rocked back in unison. Tommy moved to stand up to hit him, but Carol pulled him back down.

“If we bother you so much why don’t you leave and stay gone?” she asked, low and menacingly. “We don’t need you, you need us. We made you king.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “No, you really didn’t. You need someone to keep you from your worst selves. And that’s what I’m going to do. You could be good.” He slid a piece of paper over to Tommy. “This is Miss Chen, the school counselor’s office hours. You will make an appointment with her by the end of the day.”

Tommy threw it on the table. “Fuck off, Harrington. You can’t make me.”

Steve leaned forward on his elbows. “Actually you’ll find that I can. After all they’re still trying to find the culprit who put the smoke bomb in the garbage in the principal’s office last year.” He slapped the table for emphasis. “It would be a real shame if they learned it was you.”

Tommy blanched and gulped heavily. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Steve confirmed. “I know too much about you to have you go against me.”

Carol folded her arms and huffed. “Like we don’t have information on you, too.”

“Do you though?” he asked, sitting back in the chair and lazily stuff his hands in pockets. “I was never directly involved in any of it. Including the buying of weed for all those parties.”

This time Carol’s color drained. “Shit.”

“So this how it’s going to go,” Steve murmured. “You two have become my pet projects. I’m going to see if you can be reformed. Become better people. And to do that, we’re going to have to be friends again.”

Carol frowned as she twirled her hair around a finger. “Why are you doing this, Steve? I mean really. When you think people aren’t watching you, you get this haunted expression. It’s a little freaky, honestly.”

Steve sighed. “I have learned the hard way that running every time things get tough will only lead to worse consequences and I hate to see you come to harm because you realized the same thing too late.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I do care about you guys, of course I do. But this behavior is frightening. What if you hurt someone so bad that they took their life or they died because of your direct actions? Do you really think you could live with yourselves?”

“Tha–that can’t really happen, can it?” Carol asked, holding up her hand to stall Tommy from scoffing.

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. “That something you really want to test?” He leaned forward again on his elbows. “Having someone’s blood on your hands?”

They were both thinking it but Tommy beat Carol to it. “Is this what this about? Barb Holland? You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

Steve turned his head away.

Carol slapped her hands on the table on either side of her tray. “If that’s what Miss Priss said, blackmail be damned, Steve, I’m going throw hands, do you understand me?”

Steve’s head snapped her direction. “What?”

“Look,” Tommy said, “what happened to her was a shame, but you did everything you could to make sure she was okay before we went in to dry off.”

“Like, she wasn’t even supposed to be there that night,” Carol said, nodding. “That’s all on Nancy. Don’t carry her shit too, just because you loved her. You tried to include Barb and she was rude.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and nodded, choking down tears. “Thanks, guys.”

“I suppose,” Tommy said with a put on sigh, “we could be nicer. I guess.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed as Carol shook her head. He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

Tommy shook it first and then Carol.

“Friends,” they agreed.

~

Eddie wasn’t able to hear what Steve and Tommy and Carol were talking about, but whatever it was it had ripples that quivered through the halls of the school.

Word had it that Tommy was seeing the school counselor and Carol had stopped making snide comments in passing.

Like, you could tell Carol was fighting back every nasty word that came to her head, as Steve would nudge her side and she would whisper to him what she was thinking instead. You could tell she was still being nasty but at least it wasn’t aimed at the target anymore.

But there were starting to be other changes too.

The basketball team was the worst of the jocks when it came to harassing the masses, but when Steve caught one of the members bullying someone, the next day, the guy was too tired to start shit.

So Eddie decided it was time for a little research and that meant actually going to PE. Fuck, he hated high school.

He dragged his ass to PE and the coach merely raised an eyebrow, but wisely said nothing. He knew why Eddie was there. Same reason as all the other kids that never came started showing up.

Steve Harrington.

The coach blew his whistle to call a foul and the kid who had been fouled immediately got up and in the other guy’s face.

Faster than lightning, Steve was between before the coach could even take a step toward the mounting trouble.

“Come on, Kenny,” Steve was saying soothingly. “It was fair play, you were just in the right place at the wrong time. Walk it off, then take your shot. You’ve got this.”

Kenny glared at the other player, but did as Steve suggested. Steve turned to the other player and patted him on the chest, murmuring something Eddie couldn’t hear, but the other guy just nodded and took his place on the line.

Eddie laughed out loud when Kenny biffed both shots and the other team got the ball. He didn’t know enough about basketball, but he could still appreciate a good strategy when he saw it.

As the game wore on, Eddie was starting to see the pattern emerge. If it was malicious, Steve would be up in the guy’s face telling him to knock it off and to play clean. If it was a good play and the fouled player was pissed, Steve would calm him down and praise the other team.

It was almost freaky how well Steve seemed to know the difference. And Eddie loved freaky.

~

Part 2 Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[janeyseymour]

Secrets

hi! so, an anon asked for this. i had a LOT of fun with this one, and i hope you enjoy! literally not edited in the slightest because this one wrote itself and i don't have time to read over 9k words.

summary: You're Ava's friend, and that is enough to make Melissa hate you. But then, through volunteering for different events through the school, the redheaded teacher finds that she's falling for you. You have money, not that anyone knows, and when the school desperately needs money, you anonymously donate a generous amount. Of course, the Abbott crew isn't satisfied with not knowing who donated all of that money, and they sure as hell intend to find out.

WC~9.4k

You grew up with a lot of money. You don’t even need this job- Daddy still has you covered and pays for most of your expenses, as much as you continue to tell him that you are perfectly capable of making it on your own. You have enough saved up from all of the ridiculous amounts of money you received from past birthdays, as well as high school and college graduation presents, not to mention the fact that you have a good portion of money invested into different stocks, and you’re doing pretty damn well for yourself.

Dad taught you all about personal finances when you were younger- he’s a successful day trader, but he’s always been on the financial side of business work to begin with, and Mom is a lawyer.

And while you had quite a lavish lifestyle, your parents still chose to reside in Philadelphia, and not necessarily the nice area of Philly either. But it was part of their story, and they wanted to stay close to their roots, so they raised you here. And growing up, you became close friends (maybe even best friends) with the one and only: Ava Coleman. She was your partner in crime growing up, and you never lost contact with her once you graduated high school.

You went off to school to pursue a career in education, much to both of your parents surprise- but they supported you in your decision.

(“I hope you raise the next generation to be smart,” Mom had told you. “Bring up some new lawyers for generations to come, yeah?”

“Teach those kids how to make it out alive like Ma and I did, got it kiddo?” Dad had joked with you, but you knew he was being serious.)

After years of teaching at one of the other public schools in the suburbs of your city, you decided that you wanted to come back to your roots. You miss Philly and all of the excitement that comes with it. You miss the odd odor that lingers in the streets, and the way that no one could give half a shit and jaywalked. You miss the way that you could pretty much walk anywhere, and within a few minutes you could be milling around Reading Terminal Market looking for some good eats. So you call your best friend for some advice.

“Girl, why didn’ you tell me sooner?” Ava asks you once you’ve explained to her that you want to come back to the city. “I own a school now, and I can for sure get you a job here.”

“Ava,” you sigh. “What the hell do you mean you own a school? Do you mean you’re the principal of a school?”

“Same thing,” you can practically hear your best friend rolling her eyes.

“That’s awesome,” you congratulate her. “How’d you manage that?”

“You know how I’ve been helping out at the Abbott elementary admin building with financials? Well,” she cackles into the phone. “I did some deep diving, and I found out that the super intendant of the district has been sleeping around- found hotel bills and everything on the company card for quickies. All I had to do was bring that up, and boom! I get a new title, a nice raise, and I own a school! I’ve been there for a couple months now, but there are more turnovers here than there were in the last Super Bowl, so I can for sure get you in.”

“A couple months? Has it really been that long since we last talked?”

“Since we actually caught up, yeah,” she sighs dramatically. “You and your fancy teaching job out in the ‘burbs. It ain’t gonna be fancy like that though, we don’ even got money for a proper librarian.”

“Remember, we grew up in Philly,” you remind her. “I know what it’s like. But can you really get me a job?”

“For sure,” she tells you. “With Summer coming up, I be knowin’ I’m about to get a lot of resignations from these people I thought were spicy White people but ain’t. The only spicy white lady here is Schemmenti- pretty sure she’s part of the mob, but I ain’t about to dig. We’ll have you join us next school year.”

“I highly doubt a teacher working in Philly is part of the mob,” you roll your eyes. “But if you’re serious, then yes. I would love to come work with you.”

“For me,” she corrects. “Just because we friends don’t mean I ain’t about to subject you to all of my bullshit at school- you get to deal with the full Ava experience in all its glory just like everybody else.”

“I’ve been subject to it for my entire life,” you laugh.

“I’ll reach out when I can officially accept your resume and offer you a position, but in the mean time… girl, when we getting our nails done?”

By some grace of God, Ava is able to keep her word, and you’re officially an employee of Willard R. Abbott Elementary School starting in August as a second grade teacher. You walk in arms full of boxes stacked so high you can barely see over them, not dressed in your fanciest clothes- you have a whole separate wardrobe when it comes to teaching. You know how this works- clothes will be ruined. Hell, some clothes were ruined at a nicer suburban school, so you know that some of your outfits will not be wearable by the end of the school year- or even the first week with the kids if you’re that unlucky.

“There you are, bitch!” Ava grins and runs over to you as you enter. She’s decked out in Eagles apparel, it’s all bejeweled in true Ava Coleman fashion. “I’m so happy you’re here- you boutta blow the roof off this place!”

You roll your eyes playfully but smile at her. “Can you just show me where my room is so I can start setting it up before we have to do our development activities?”

“Don’t you got people to do that for you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I am fully capable of setting up my classroom myself- without people to move everything for me.”

“Lame,” she sighs. “I always like seeing the sexy movers your Dad hires for you.”

“I explicitly told him I didn’t want him to do that for me,” you tell her. “And I told him that if he sent people here to move stuff from my car, I would never be respected. I know how it goes around here, and so does he. So, here I am.”

The principal leads you down to your room. “All yours,” she grins as she unlocks the door.

You look around once you’ve set your boxes on the ground and bite your lip thoughtfully. You can make do with this space.

“Your team is Janine… annoying ass dork, and Melissa… mean Italian lady who is working for the mob.”

“You’re still on that?”

“Guilty until proven innocent!” Ava quips.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “Care to give me a hand with unloading the rest of the stuff from my car?”

“Girl, I just got my nails done, and you sure as hell know I don’t do manual labor. I’m the principal now- that shit’s beneath me!” She turns on her heel. “See you in the library in an hour!”

You report down to the gym a little before everyone else to get your bearings, and to beg your best friend to not make a huge deal about you being here- specifically requesting that she doesn’t speak anything of your family or the business. You have a relatively common last name, so it isn’t like anyone would hear your name and immediately know of your family either.

“I won’ say anything about your fam, but you sure as hell know I’m gonna let them know your my bitch and they shouldn’t mess with you.”

You sulk back to your seat, dreading whatever the hell Ava is going to say about your arrival at the school.

The rest of your colleagues make their way in and take seats in their designated seats, you still lingering in the back. This way, you’re able to see some new faces, and you wouldn’t want to take anyone’s unofficially assigned seat. Once everyone is seated you join them. You can immediately pick out a few of the names that Ava had thrown out over the summer. Janine is sitting with Gregory and Jacob, and the redheaded woman is clearly Melissa. Sitting next to her is who has to be what Ava described to as, “Melissa’s heterosexual work wife and life partner,” Barbara Howard.

The principal heads to the stage and starts her greeting in true Ava fashion- telling them all how much she wishes they weren’t here and she was still clubbing it up down at the shore, but she supposes it’s okay to see them again. And then she begins to introduce the new teachers- she, of course, saves you for last.

“And finally,” she breaks out in a grin and does a little dance. “we have Y/N. Listen up: this girl is my ride or die, and even one of you steps out of line towards her, and we gon’ have problems.”

All eyes turn to you and your red cheeks, but you give a small wave.

“Now, onto the boring stuff,” Ava sighs. She drones on about the new school year and what is going to (supposedly) pan out over the next nine months before she dismisses you all to prep in your classrooms for the remainder of the day.

You make a break for the door as soon as you can, sweater wrapped around you tightly even though it’s sweltering hot in the school- apparently Mr. Johnson still hasn’t fixed the air conditioning because he forgot which Boyz II Men song he assigned to the air system. As soon as you’re in your classroom, your sweater is off and you’re fanning yourself with a paper fan you had folded for yourself.

You continue to prepare for your students until you hear a gentle knock on the door. Who is standing there but Janine and Melissa.

“Hi!” Janine grins as she steps in. “It’s so great to have you as an addition to our team, and Melissa and I just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves! I’m Janine, and this is-” She nudges the woman next to her.

The redhead just huffs and rolls her eyes. “Schemmenti,” is all she says.

“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to come and ask one of us. My room is just down the hall, but lucky for you- Melissa’s room is right next door to you!”

“Don’t need anything,” the fiery second grade teacher warns you. “I don’t got time for someone who’s gonna leave in a few weeks.”

You’re somewhat taken aback by her abrasive personality, but you just smile instead. “Thank you,” is all you say once Janine has hissed out a quiet, “Melissa!”

“Did you need any help at all yet?”

“She don’t need help, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “She’s got Ava on her side.” And with that, the redhead turns on her heel and leaves.

“Don’t mind her,” Janine tells you as she steps into your classroom a bit further. “She’s got a tough exterior, and she hated me too at first. But now, she’s like my work mom, with Barbara being my other work mom, of course. She even brought me lunch to make sure I eat today.”

“That’s very kind of her,” you say as you continue to set up your room.

“I like what you have goin’ on here,” your colleague nods her head in approval. “Nice and warm, kinda like my room! Well, I have to get back to my own classroom, but if you need anything, come on down! The price is right!” She laughs at her own joke before strolling down the hallway. 

Your first day at school is relatively peaceful, and before you know it, you’re allowed to leave. Of course though, you do plan on staying later because you have to finish up a few things before you’ll be satisfied with the progress you’ve made.

You see Melissa leaving her classroom, and despite not necessarily wanting to, you call out a gentle, “Have a good night, Melissa.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a short nod of the head in your direction before continuing on down the hall.

As you gather your things to leave for the day, Ava shows up at your door.

“So, we goin’ out for drinks?”

“I don’t think I can,’ you sigh. “I still have a lot of stuff that I have to prep for this, and I want to make sure it all gets done before the kids show up.”

“Girl, this would all be way easier if you just-”

“I don’t need any hired help,” you cut her off because you know exactly what she was going to say.

“Well then, I’m coming over,” your friend tells you, leaving no room for arguments. “It’s been too long since I seen you, or drank some of the good ass wine I know you have at your house.”

“Be my guest,” you chuckle as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

The rest of your development days are filled with boring meetings and time to prepare your classrooms. You find yourself a part of a committee to help with funding with a nudge from Ava.

“Girl, you don’t gots to tell them how you know all of this stuff about finances,” she tells you. “But it would be a big help to have someone like you on our team.”

“Fine. But if it gets out who I come from, I’m pulling out,” you point a finger at her. “I am not about to let my father get his hands on this and try to turn the school charter like he’s done before.”

She nods. “Whatever.”

The school year starts off strong. You’ve settled into your classroom, your kids absolutely adore you, and you adore them. You’ve spent some time with the other teachers in the school, besides Melissa, during preps, lunch duties, and recess duties. They all seem to like you, and you like them too.

Still though, you find yourself coming in early and staying late in order to get as much as you can together- you know once actual classwork starts to trickle in for you to grade, your plate is only going to get much more full. So any work that you can streamline and work ahead on, you do. The time where teachers are allowed to leave is upon you, and as much as you want to go home and take a nap, you know you really should stay and continue to work on lesson plans. Maybe you should start hanging up some of the work that your students have already done- their all about me posters and drawings. With a sigh, you gather the materials you’ll need to create a bulletin board and the footstool you keep in your cabinet and make your way into the hallway.

“Oi,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she closes her door for the night. “You know that working overtime won’t make you a better teacher.”

“I know,” you say softly. “But you know how it goes your first year in a new school.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss that shit,” the redhead huffs and starts to make her way down the hall.

“Have a good night, Melissa,” you call quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me what to do,” she tosses over her shoulder.

Wow. This woman was not easy to work with.

The next few days continue on like this, you staying later and later in order to stay on top of everything.

On Friday, you arrive early as you always do. While it’s casual Friday, and you’re allowed to wear jeans, you opt for a flowery sundress instead. It’ll keep your body temperature more regulated than a pair of stuffy jeans would. You know you aren’t doing anything where a student could accidentally destroy this dress either, so you think it’s a safe call.

As you enter the staff room to grab your lunch from the refrigerator, you hear the redhead’s low voice.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she challenges you, and you really don’t know why she’s doing this.

“Hm?” you hum as you grab your salad from the shelf.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she repeats. “Coming in here all cozy with Ava, wearing something or than jeans on casual Friday, already having bulletin boards up… you might’ve come from a nice school bonfire, but you’re here now- adjust.”

All of your coworkers’ eyes go wide at this unprovoked ‘fight’ you’ve found yourself in, and a few of them scold her. 

“What’s she gonna do?” Melissa fires out to Barbara. “Go tell on me to Ava and get me fired? Please.”

You bite your lip nervously before smiling tightly. “Have a nice lunch, y’all… and have a nice weekend if I don’t catch you before school’s over.” You leave the room with that and head back down to your classroom to eat your lunch while you pour over your lesson plans.

“Melissa,” Barbara sighs. “Y/N has done nothing to you, and you’re treating her terribly! There is no need; you are better than this!”

“Listen, she’s just another one of Ava’s minions who is going to reign hell on me during the school year. She already drives me nuts with the effort she’s putting in.”

“She may be friends with Ava,” Janine cuts in. “But I really don’t think she’s like her- she seems like she has drive and a true passion for our kids.”

“And that is what we need at this school,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend. “We need people who are willing to put in the effort and love on these kiddos the way that she is. I already had Dante tell me during my lunch duty that he loves second grade because of her! Do not go tearing her down and forcing her out when we need more educators like her!”

“I don’t-”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” Barbara pulls out the redhead’s full name, and Melissa’s eyes go wide at that. “Be nicer to the young girl. Give her a chance. You weren’t even this hard on Jacob and Janine when they first joined us.”

“And now you’re like my work mom!” the energetic teacher grins.

“You don’t even have to go out of your way to be nice to her,” the elder teacher says. “Just don’t be so harsh.”

“If I say sure, can we go back to eating lunch and talking about our weekend plans?”

Deciding that you’ve put enough hard work into this week and you’ll make sure you’re in here bright and early the day after Labor day, you grab your bag to head out on time and make the most of this long weekend. You close your door and begin to lock it just as Melissa makes her way out of the classroom.

“You’re not staying late tonight?” she looks at you with a raised brow.

“No,” you chuckle. “I figured that I deserve to have this weekend to relax after a hectic first week. But I’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday.”

“Mhmm,” the redhead hums as she fiddles with her door. “Shit,” she grumbles as she struggles to get the lock to turn.

“Do you want some help?” you ask her gently.

“I got it,” she holds up a hand. “I’ve been dealing with this damn door for the last two years. Mr. J will get around to it eventually.”

After watching her fight with the lock for long enough, you sigh and pull a bobby pin out of your hair. “Seriously, let me help.”

She steps aside, arms folded over her chest. Before you know it, you have her door locked, and you’re sliding the pin back into your hair.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

“Of course,” you smile at her shyly. “Hey, have a nice weekend.”

“You too, kid,” she tells you, and there isn’t any sort of bite behind her words. She isn’t smiling at you, but she also isn’t scowling at you.

Content with that conversation, you head for the doors and out to your car.

You make a pitstop on your way home into the Home Depot- you’’ just buy a new lock for Melissa’s door and install it on Tuesday when you get there. It’s a simple fix, and she doesn’t have to know it was you that did it.

The weekend is nice. You and Ava go out clubbing on Friday and Saturday night before nursing your hangovers on Sunday together. And then on Monday, you make your way over to your parents’ house with your partner in crime for the Labor Day barbecue they always hold. It’s a good time, as it always is. Your parents are happy to see the lively woman again, and they thank her for helping to get you back to your roots.

You’re back at Abbott bright and early- earlier than anybody else besides the janitor that lingers in the halls and doesn’t do his job.

“Good morning, Mr. J!” you greet him happily.

“Y/N,” he smiles back at you. “You have a nice weekend?”

“I did,” you reply as you make your way down to your wing. “And you?”

“Always a good time when you’re me,” he chuckles before continuing on his way humming a Boyz II Men song. 

You quickly drop your things off in your room before changing out your colleague’s crappy lock. You leave the new key in the hole so she has it, and then you settle at your desk to continue working on your lesson plans and preparations.

You hear her before you see her passing by your room to get to hers.

“Hey, good morning,” you greet her quietly.

“Mornin’,” she huffs. You’ve gathered that she isn’t much a morning person- at least not until she’s had her first cup of coffee and has watched the news in the break room with her friends.

You a hear a soft, “Huh,” come from her mouth as she notices there’s a new lock on her door. “Took you long enough, Mr. J.” She has no idea it’s you that changed it. Hopefully, this starts her week of well.

Your exchanges with the Italian lady in the room next door don’t much go beyond a good morning and a good night each day as the weeks go on, but she doesn’t frown at your mere existence anymore. If you squint, you can almost see a smile. The rest of your colleagues really seem to taking a liking to you, and you’re genuinely happy that you made the decision to come work here- even if it means putting up with your best friend’s shenanigans.

Everything is going swimmingly at work until one day Ava calls an emergency staff meeting at the end of the day.

Making your way into the library, you genuinely have no idea what she could have to announce so urgently. Apparently, neither do any of the other teachers.

“You’re close with her,” Melissa falls into step with you. “You know what she’s gonna say?”

“No idea,” you tell her quietly. “I’m just praying it’s not another pyramid scheme of hers. I can’t get her out of any more trouble with those.”

The redhead looks at you curiously, but you don’t say anything else. You don’t want to admit that when Ava finds herself in legal troubles, she usually calls your mother and she helps clean up the mess pro bono.

The two of you settle into the library chairs amongst the rest of your coworkers, but Ava is nowhere to be found.

“Good lord,” Barbara mutters. “This better be worth staying after. I’m going to be late to dinner with Gerald.”

Your friend enters the library looking rather frazzled. “Hey, y’all. Listen, I gotta make this quick because I have to get to a hair appointment, but I wanted you to hear it from me before word got around: the district is trying to cut our budget, and with our budget being cut, that means they’ll cut the arts programs. I know y’all don’t want that, so start coming up with ways to get us out this mess!”

Before anyone can ask any questions, she leaves.

“What the hell?” Melissa looks angry- like really angry. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes are wide, and she’s balling up her hands into fists. “Barb, you and me to the mall. I’m gonna need a new shakedown sweater.”

With no hesitation, the kindergarten teacher follows her work wife out of the school.

That night, Ava calls you.

“Girl… you know what we have to do,” she tries to convince you to let out your secret about your wealth.

“No,” you say for the millionth time. “We are going to fundraise, we’re going to get the money so that they can’t cut it… I’ll work with Janine and the budgeting committee to see where we can make small cuts here and there to scrounge up some more money… but I am not letting my dad get wrapped up in this and be in his debts. You know how he likes to hold stuff like that over my head, and he will turn Abbott charter if we let him get involved with this.”

You work tirelessly to come up with multiple fundraisers, different presentations to bring to the district offices, and work with the budgeting committee to make small cuts where you have a bit of wiggle room. You even tell them they can cut your salary by 2% if it means a little extra money- it may not be a lot, but it’s something that you’re willing to give considering your sizable bank account anyway. You do all of this, on top of continue to work in your classroom. You’re exhausted.

You volunteer for the events that you’ve helped to organize, and so have quite a few of the other teachers.

“We are not losing the arts program,” Melissa fumes multiple times a week. “I need my prep to keep my sanity.”

“Amen to that,” Barbara usually remarks after that.

“If it means volunteering a few hours here or there for these events, I’ll do it,” the redhead tells you when you hesitantly approach her crew about helping out.

So, here you are with Melissa at the art show.

The conversation is awkward and stilted for quite some time before she finally sighs.

“You’re doing good,” she tells you. “I haven’t seen a turn out like this in quite some time.”

“Anything for the kids,” you reply. “They need it.”

“Why here?” she finally asks you the question that’s been eating at her for some time- since the first day you walked in really.

“I grew up in Philly,” you tell her. “It was time to come back to my roots, and Ava offered me a position. The stars aligned for me, and I’m quite content in my decision to be back in a city school. I can help make a difference for these guys like some of my teachers did for me.”

“For someone who’s friends with Ava, you sure have a lot more heart than I thought you would,” she admits.

You smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“How long you two been friends? Meet in college at the clubs?”

“Nah,” you laugh softly. “I grew up with Ava living a few houses down from me. We’ve been friends since I was the shy girl in the first grade who sat by myself at recess. Next thing I know, she’s next to me rambling on about whatever first grade drama was happening and telling me I was her girl. I still don’t know why she chose me to come up to that day. Maybe it’s because I actually listened to her. But we’ve been stuck together since that day.”

“You’re good for her,” Melissa tells you. “I haven’t seen Ava put in this much effort to something that doesn’t directly benefit her before. And I think it really does have something to do with you being here and leading a lot of it.”

“Thank you,” you smile again.

That night is where everything starts to change. Melissa slowly starts to show you the other side of her personality- the kind, would take a bullet for you if she had to side. You quite like it.

As the months go on, you still work tirelessly to put together different events to try to save the arts. Melissa even helps you plan a few, and she offers her “I know a guy” line when you’re looking for different ways to draw people in. The two of you begin to work closely in order to make sure that these events happen, and that they’re good. The redhead sees how hard you work and how driven you are. She respects it.

  You find yourselves chaperoning quite a few events- choir shows, band shows, a few school dances…

And while you’re at these events, the redhead sticks by your side through most of the nights. She finds that she quite likes being around you actually. She lets you into her personal life slowly. You tell her little bits about your life while still not revealing that you come from the line that you do.

She realizes that she’s starting to fall for you- and that terrifies her to no end. But she can’t quite pull herself away from you. Not now. Not after getting to know you and see how down to earth and honest you are with what you do- not after you’ve shown her that you’re here to stay and you’re going to show up for these kids in any way you possibly can.

Finally, the biggest event that you’ve planned, and your last attempt at hitting the quota to keep the arts program around for another year (you don’t even want to think about having to go through this charade all over again next year) is here. 

It’s another AvaFest kind of deal, but you’re able to utilize the outside part of your school grounds this year. Inside, there are smaller games, a few tables from local vendors, music provided by Janine’s ex-boyfriend. Outside though, is a whole other story. It practically looks like a carnival.

There’s a ball toss, a free-throw game, a balloon dart stand, a game to throw footballs through some holes, the dunk tank has been moved outside and a handful of teachers have volunteered to partake in it… all of the ticket stands and games are being run by various teachers and aides in the school. And the assortment of goodies around? Apparently, Melissa knows quite a few guys who participate in the food industry because you have a grilled cheese stand, a lemonade stand, a guy who’s making hoagies… she even knew a guy to come head a cotton candy machine for the event. And that’s not even naming all of the vendors.

You don’t have any assigned places to be because you’re overseeing that the event runs smoothly. So you’re milling about with your clipboard in hand, checking over the different stands. And while you expected Melissa to sit at the ticket table with Barbara, she follows you around and is your right hand man throughout the night. She checks in with the people that she knows, shoots the shit, and helps you solve any issues that arise through the night- not that there are many. You worked your ass off to ensure that everybody participating in this school wide event was compensated for their time and hard work.

“You really outdid yourself, hun,” Melissa comments quietly once you’ve found a moment to just stand and take it all in.

“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else helping,” you brush off her compliment. “You were a really big help, so thank you.”

“We all pitched in, but you’re the brains behind all of this,” she tells you. “Don’t sell yourself short. This jawn just might have to become an annual thing.”

“Oh, don’t remind me of what I’m going to have to pull of next year,” you groan playfully. “After this, I’m done with ideas for the year.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it. If something else comes up, you and I both know you’ll be the first one organizing something.”

“I know,” you sigh. But then you smile softly. “It’s all for the kids though. They deserve it.”

“They do,” she agrees. “And because of you, they’re gonna get it.” She gently hip checks you.

You blush and shrug.

“You got a real knack for this. If you weren’t such a good teacher, I’d tell you to go into professional party planning,” the redhead quips. She doesn’t know that you’ve been helping plan company parties with your parents for years now.

“It’s more a hobby,” you tell her. “I’m a teacher at heart.”

“A teacher with a damn good heart,” she corrects you.

“You think this is all gonna be worth it?” you ask her nervously. “Think we’re gonna hit the mark?”

“I’d put money on it,” she tells you honestly. “With the last events you’ve organized, and this one being our biggest success yet, I think we’ll exceed it.”

“God, I hope so.”

You don’t make enough money to keep the funding for the arts program. You’re devastated. Absolutely crushed. You burst into tears when Ava announces that bit of information sadly at the next staff meeting, rushing out of the room to try to compose yourself.

Melissa runs after you. You don’t really know why, but she does. 

“Hey,” she comes into your classroom, grabbing a tissue on her way over to you. She gently wipes your tears away. “We did our best. You did your best. And that… is enough.”

“It isn’t though,” you choke out. “We’re losing the arts program, and those teachers are going to be let go, and I-”

“I’m sure Ava will find somewhere else for them to be placed,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

“And- and we’re going to lose our preps, and… and the kids deserve to have the arts!” you cry. “When I was in school, that was my favorite part of the day, and now they won’t be able to experience that joy!”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to incorporate it into your lessons,” the redhead tells you gently as she pulls you into a hug. “You did everything you could… but sometimes at the end of the day, life sucks.”

“It’s not fair,” you whine.

“Life ain’t always fair, hun,” Melissa reminds you. “But we do our best with what we’ve been given. And now, all the money that we raised can go into buying supplies for the kids next year.”

You sigh and wipe at the last of your tears. You take a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Okay,” you whisper sadly.

“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” she promises you. “And who knows, maybe a miracle will happen, and we’ll get to keep the programs.”

And just like that, her words give you an idea. You know how you can make a miracle happen. You have to contain your excitement as the thought pops into your head. The two of you return to the staff meeting where Ava is rambling on about who knows what, but you’re itching to get out of there.

Once you’re dismissed, you head back to your classroom, open up your laptop and log in. You check your bank account balances, and pleased with the numbers, you pull up the GoFundMe page that was up for the school.

“You’re stayin’ late again tonight?” Melissa knocks on your door, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses already on.

“Just a few minutes,” you look up and smile at her. “I have a few emails I have to respond to.”

“Alright,” she taps the doorframe a few times. “Try to have a good night, yeah?”

“I will,” you tell her. “You too, Melissa.”

“Thanks, hun.” 

With that, she’s off, and you can go back to what you were doing. You click on the “Donate Now” button without hesitation.

You donate the first $50,000, and then another $50,000 anonymously, and you absolutely beam when you see that you’ve hit your goal and then surpassed it. Satisfied, you close out of the tabs and close your laptop. Now, you just have to wait for tomorrow morning when Ava, the organizer of the fundraiser, sees the email. You know she won’t see it tonight- she’s off the clock.

A few hours later, you get a text from your best friend.

Hey, you still holding up ok? she sends.

I’m alright, you text back. So she hadn’t seen the donations yet. I’m drinking wine right now if you want to come over.

Girl, say less.

She’s over at your house in less than fifteen minutes, and it takes everything in you to not tell her what you had done. She heads home after finishing off the bottle, bidding you a goodnight and a see you tomorrow.

You sleep like a baby that night.

The next morning, you’re back in your classroom setting up your science experiment for the day when Ava’s voice comes over the intercom.

“Attention Abbott Elementary: there is a mandatory staff meeting, right now. Start heading down to the library. That means you, Schemmenti.”

You grin as you stand back up straight and make your way for the door. Right before you exit, you put on your best neutral face.

“Damn,” Melissa groans as she leaves her room. “Tell your friend not to call me out like that. I skip on meeting, and she’s all over me.”

“I don’t control what she does, and you know that,” you chuckle.

“What do you think this is about?” she asks you as the two of you make your way down the hall.

You shrug. “For all I know, it could be that she got a manicure and wants to show it off.”

The two of you find seats at your table, Barbara arrive a few seconds later.

“What on Earth could this woman have forgotten to tell us yesterday?” the kindergarten teacher huffs. “I have things to do!”

“I was setting up my science experiments for the day,” you grumble. “If this isn’t worth it, I’m making her set the rest of it up.” You know it will be worth it.

“Good morning, subordinates!” Ava makes it known that she’s entering the library. “I have some great news!”

Everyone silently urges her to go on.

“I have no idea who did this- sure as hell wasn’t me- but, we got some donations after school yesterday!” She projects the webpage up onto the screen.

Everyone gasps when they see how much money had been donated last night. To keep up appearances, your eyes widen, your jaw drops, and you well up with tears. Acting classes from when you were younger sure are paying off now.

“Oh my- Oh my god!” you shout, and Melissa is hugging you tightly.

“So, thanks to these very generous donations, we’re able to keep the arts programs up and running for at least the next three years!” Ava grins.

“Well, who donated?” Janine asks. “We have to find out so we can thank them!”

“Who cares?” Ava rebuts. “We got what we wanted! Now back to work, slackers!”

You stay in your seat, pretending to be in complete and utter shock while everyone else starts to get up. Almost every teacher comes up congratulating you and telling you that your hard work paid off. Melissa sits with you, happy as can be, and only reaffirming what everyone else is already telling you. Only once everyone else has left does she say anything else.

“Y/N,” she grins. “This is incredible. I told you your hard work would pay off. It’s a freakin’ miracle!”

“Y-Yeah,” you match her smile. “God, this is great.”

The two of you sit there for some time, chatting about how you could use some of the funding to buy more supplies and the likes until you remember you still have to finish setting up your science materials.

“Oh shit!” you whisper. “I- I gotta go finish setting up before the kids come in!” You take off in the direction of your room, and the redhead can only watch you as you go with a lovestruck look in her eyes.

When you’re halfway there, you hear Ava’s voice over the speaker again. “Y/N, my office.”

“Fuck,” you mumble as you halt sprinting down the hallway and turn to make your way down to her room. There was no way you would be able to finish preparing for today at this rate.

“This better be quick. I have to-”

“You donated that money, didn’t you?” Ava gets right to the point.

Your eyes widen. Your cover was blown with her, meaning it was going to be blown quickly among your colleagues as well.

“Well, was it?”

You nod subtly. “But please… don’t say anything. Please. I did it for the kids, and I have enough stashed away, and-”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” your best friend grins. “Why you think I didn’t say nothin’ at the meeting today?”

“You’re the best,” you sigh in relief.

“Don’t I know it,” the principal cackles. “Now, fo’ real. Come shoot an instagram video with me to announce that we met our goal.”

“Ava, I actually have-”

“I’ll tell,” she singsongs. “C’mon. We need our fearless leader and organizer to be part of the video.”

“Fine.”

The two of you finish the video about five minutes before the kids will start to show up, and you practically sprint back to your classroom to attempt the impossible task of finishing setting up.

When you get there though, Melissa is in your room just finishing up the last station.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as you make your way into the room.

“Nah,” she shrugs. “But I wanted to. I got the time.”

“Thank you,” you grin.

“Noticed your coffee cup was empty too,” she notes. “So I made you a new one. Hope that’s alright.”

You walk over to your desk and take a sip of the warm drink. It’s perfect.

“Thank you,” you make your way over to her and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Seriously. You just made my day.”

“Nah, that mysterious donor did,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad I could help. Have a good morning, and I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her. “Thank you again.”

You greet your children at the door, coffee mug and heart both full. Melissa greets her own students, but she can’t stop watching you. You’re just… so perfect. She knows she’s falling for you hard. Maybe at the end of the week she’ll confess her feelings- no, she will. She makes up her mind: she’s going to confess her feelings to you by Friday, if not before. She just has to work up the nerve to do it.

At lunch, the conversation is almost solely on who the mystery donor is. You play dumb, and you tell everyone that you’re just happy the school gets to keep their program from next to Melissa.

“I know a guy who could find out for us,” the redhead tells your colleagues.

“Oh, do it,” Janine grins. “That way, we can have our kids make cards and send them to the person to thank them! Oh my god- do you guys think our donor is Taylor Swift?! She does stuff like this sometimes!”

“She usually puts her name to it,” you chuckle. “But seriously, I think we should just be grateful. Ava and I already thanked the person on the school’s webpage and social media, and I think that should suffice.” You really don’t want to be found out.

“I already got the guy on the line,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she types away on her phone. “I’m gonna have to make a tray of ziti and some meatballs as payment though.”

You bite your lip. You really, truly pray that her guy won’t be able to find you out. But, her people usually come through for her… maybe just this once, they won’t be able to?

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa taps your elbow gently.

“Hm?”

“We lost ya there for a second,” she tells you. “I asked if you would come over to help me make the food, since we’s in this situation because of your fundraiser.”

“Oh,” you blush. “Uh, sure. When?”

“You got anything goin’ on tonight?” she asks. You shake your head. “Then tonight. I’ll text you my address. Bring a bottle of wine.” At that moment, she silently promises herself she’ll talk to you about her feelings for you.

You nod and continue to eat your lunch quietly, letting the conversation around you continue as you continuously plead with the lord that they don’t find out it’s you who donated all that money.

You show up to your coworker’s house promptly at 5:30, like she asked, with a nicer bottle of wine in hand. You hope she’ll like it.

When she opens the door, you have to stop yourself from blushing at the sight of her. You’ve seen her at school, and you wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you find her attractive there. In the comfort of her own home though, she’s almost even more gorgeous.

“Hey,” she opens the door. “C’mon in. I got all the stuff ready.”

You enter quietly, offering her the bottle of wine. She pulls her glasses from off the top of her head and puts them on before inspecting the bottle.

“Damn,” she says. “You got good taste, but expensive taste.”

“I figured I could splurge for a celebration,” you offer up.

She leads you to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses before pouring some into each. Once you have yours in hand, she quietly raises her own in a toast.

“To this mystery donor,” she says quietly. You clink your glass with hers before sipping on the wine.

By the time all of the food is in the oven, the two of you have gotten through about three quarters of the bottle and plan to finish off the rest on her couch.

“This was nice,” you tell her quietly.

“Yeah,” she hums, but you can tell her mind is clearly somewhere else.

“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” you ask her. 

She hums again, still wrapped up in her own inner turmoil over telling you that she has a thing for you. 

“Mel,” you tap her gently, the nickname rolling off of your tongue for the first time. 

She snaps out of her trance.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask softly.

She bites her lip nervously before whispering, “Please don’t hate me for this.” And then she gently presses her lips to your own.

Your eyes widen before you kiss her back just as tenderly. When you need air, you pull back.

“Oh, god,” she whispers.

“Hey,” you set a warm hand on her knee. And then you lean in and kiss her again so she knows that you aren’t upset with her; you don’t hate her.

“So…” she hums when you two part again. “I- I have a thing for you.”

“You wouldn’t say?” you tease her. “If it wasn’t clear, I like you too. I just didn’t think you would ever go for someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowns. “You’re… you.”

“Yeah,” you laugh weakly as you run a hand through your hair. “I’m me. Shy, quiet, dorky… always working… friends with Ava.”

“Mm,” she hums as she shifts closer to you. “You are you: hard working, driven, down to earth, kind… heart of gold… gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “C’mon, Mel.”

“I’m serious,” she tells you as she tucks a hair behind your ear. “I like you because you’re you… I tried to hate you so hard at the beginning of the year, and I just… couldn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask her.

“Nope. From the moment I found out you were the one that changed my lock and fixed my door,” she admits.

Your eyes widen slightly at that confession. “You knew?”

“I thanked Mr. J that day, and he told me it wasn’t him,” she shrugs. “That he saw you come in early with a bag from Home Depot. I put two and two together.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “You could’ve told me you knew.”

“There was never a right time for it,” she chuckles. “But I figure now is the right time to say thank you the way I wanted to then.” She kisses you again.

That night, the two of you talk over how you’re going to continue on with this little… situation you’ve found yourselves in. You’ll take it slow. You bid her a goodbye with a lingering kiss before climbing into your car and heading back to your house.

Sleep washes over you easily that night, content with what had just happened at Melissa’s. 

The next day continues on as it normally does, although when no one is around in the corner that your classrooms are in, the redhead will sneak into your room and kiss you passionately. She’s found that she quite likes kissing you, and you don’t mind one bit. She hasn’t heard any news from her guy, and you feel like you’re in the clear. They won’t find you out. 

But come the following day, as you’re sitting in the break room with Janine, Gregory, Jacob, and Barbara, the redhead comes storming in.

“You!” she points a finger at you. In her other hand is a stack of papers.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear her booming voice. “Me?” you whisper.

“When the hell were you gonna tell us who you really were?!”

“Melissa,” Barbara furrows her brows. “It is too early for this.”

“No, I think now’s a great time for this. When the hell were you gonna tell us that you were the donor?! When were you gonna tell us that your Y/N, daughter of one of the most famous day traders and one of the most prestigious lawyers in the area?!”

You turn bright red, and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.

“What?” Janine gasps. “Melissa, you have to-”

“See for yourselves!” She throws the papers in her hands on one of the tables.

The rest of your friends gather around to look at the papers. There’s a screenshot of the transaction with your name, and then there are a few papers from an article that ran a couple of years ago about one of your dad’s parties and being able to secure a deal. In the image, you’re in the background drinking a glass of wine next to your mother. They all look to you with wide eyes.

“Wow,” Jacob whistles. 

“When the hell were you gonna tell us?” Melissa asks you again. “You know the trouble I had to go through to get this information? How much deep diving I did once I saw your name? You coulda saved me a trip to the grocery store and hours of cooking and cleaning if you would’ve just fessed up!”

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wipe at your tears and make your way out. You head back to your classroom, coffee abandoned at your seat, and lock the door. You keep it locked despite the various knocks that come and go to check on you after your quick exit. 

“Melissa,” Barbara tries to calm her friend down. “I know you’re frustrated that you went through all of that effort, but… Y/N was doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and she clearly didn’t want to be found out.”

“I know,” the redhead sighs once her fire has died down a bit. “I was too hard on her, wasn’t I?”

“I’d say so,” the kindergarten teacher admits.

“Shit,” she mutters. “I gotta fix this.”

You only unlock it when you know it’s time for your students to start arriving, but you don’t dare go stand at your door like you usually do. You don’t want to face Melissa- not yet. You don’t think you can. You’ve only just started to explore what could happen between the two of you, and you’ve already ruined it by not telling her who you were. You avoid her for the morning.

Come lunchtime, you don’t even bother to head into the break room. You just suppose a granola bar from the stash that you have in your room will have to suffice and hold you over until you can go home today.

You lay your head down on your desk- it’s pounding because you didn’t get to finish your caffeinated drink.

You hear her boots against the floor before you can see her. You think she’s just going to pass by your door and head into her own room, but she stops in your doorway. In her hands, she has a mug full of coffee, your lunch, and dozens of handmade cards from the students.

“Hey,” she says gently.

You don’t answer. She makes her way into the room and sets everything on your desk before she makes herself comfortable.

“Eat,” she instructs.

“Not hungry,” you shrug.

“Then at least drink the coffee I made you,” she tries. “I know you get headaches when you don’t have enough caffeine in your system.”

You shrug. She raises her eyebrows though, and you meekly reach for the cup. “Thanks."

“The kids all made you cards,” she tells you gently. “Thanking you.”

You look at them with a sad smile.

“The staff put some cards in there too.”

“That’s nice,” you say numbly.

“C’mon, hun,” she sighs as she lays a warm hand on your shoulder. “This stuff normally makes you happy.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigned. “But I fucked up. I didn’t tell you who I was, and now you’re mad at me, and I probably ruined whatever we have goin’ on here. I’ll pay you back for the money you spent on the food by the way.”

“No need for that,” she waves you off. “Was I pissed when I saw your name on that paper? When I realized who you actually were? Yeah. A little. But… you single-handedly saved our arts program. You organized all of the events, and then when that wasn’t enough, you donated so much that we get to keep that program for at least the next five years.”

“Yeah, for the kids,” you sigh. “It’s all for them.”

“And besides,” she chuckles quietly. “If I didn’t have to make that food, I probably wouldn’t have kissed you that night, I woulda found out who you were before tellin’ you how I felt, and then I really would’ve been pissed with you, and what we have going on here wouldn’t have happened.”

You shrug. “I ruined it though.”

“You didn’t ruin nothin’. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m sorry I was as hard on you as I was,” she promises you gently. “I still like ya. I still wanna see where this goes, if you do.”

You look up at her, glassy eyes and all. “Really?”

“Yeah, hun. If this showed me anything, it’s that you’re a really good person, and I made a really good choice fallin’ for you.”

You blink a few times in disbelief. So you didn’t ruin this. You still have Melissa in your life- she doesn’t hate you.

“Do you wanna see where this goes?”

“I do,” you say softly.

Her lips meet yours, and you only part when you hear a collective gasp from the teachers who had quietly followed Melissa down to ensure that she wasn’t going to cause any fights.

The two of you pull back, cheeks red.

“Uh, surprise?” you say nervously.

[chososdiscordkitten]

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt3

pt 2 here content: Choso refers to reader as his gf- other than that no use of pronouns. mention of reader wearing lipstick, obsessive crush to stalker arc :>

(a.n) this is slowly becoming a fic and I don't hate it. I felt lack of inspo last night and did a deep dive into what stalkers do- the red flags before they start the actual stalking lol

taglist: @flam3bird

Obsessive!Choso who almost felt his heart burst when he saw you wave hi at him when you walked into class. Smile on your lips as you walk down to your seat. Hearing your friend speak a little louder than a whisper while taking a practice test, seeing you look back at him and make a face almost asking him, ‘can you believe what she's saying?’ before turning around again, watching your friend lean in close to you and keep pestering you. His eyes watching you turn your phone on under your desk, ‘During a test? What are you thinking-’ he thought, mentally scolding you.

Obsessive!Choso who almost died when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, pulling it out and seeing that you had texted him. ‘can u hear her from all the way over there ?’ reading it and hearing your voice. The realization of, ‘you were thinking of me?’ making him slouch in his seat, feeling his heavily pieced ears start to warm. Staring at your text, looking down at you, noticing you had the conversation still open. ‘Are you waiting for me?’ he asked you in his mind. Quickly screenshotting the notification before opening it, ‘yeah, i can.’ he typed, sending it and seeing you turn your head and smile at him. Seeing you look down at your phone, his heart beating quickly when he saw the typing bubble show up. ‘she keeps asking me what the answers are’, smiling when he saw that your auto capitalization was off, another thing you two had in common. ‘is this not a practice test?’ he typed, thinking how crazy it is that he was talking to you. To you! Person of his dreams, everything he wanted in a partner. You. The person who always greets him with a warm smile, who's always nice to him.

Obsessive!Choso whose heart skipped a beat when he saw you move your shoulders, indicating that you were trying not to laugh. ‘I make you laugh?’ looking down at his phone and seeing you had texted again. ‘dont think she knows that’  you replied, putting your phone away and getting back to the paper in front of you. Making sure to remember to ask you why you're friends with someone like that. ‘You're not the same kind of person- or even on the same level mentally. So why would you be friends with someone who does nothing but bother you?’  Thinking he knew everything about your friendship with this person. 

Obsessive!Choso who went to the campus coffee shop, in hopes that maybe you'd be there. Knowing from your instagram stories that you usually came to pick up a coffee after one of your classes. Only this time you weren't here. Pulling out his trifold wallet before paying, looking to see he didn't have any cash, trying to find his card. “Pretty girlfriend.” the cashier said, breaking the awkward silence while looking at the photo of you in his wallet. “Sorry?” he asked, looking at them when he found the piece of plastic. “Your girlfriend-” they continued, eyes pointing at the picture. The sentence made him flustered, not paying attention that some people notice small things like that. Smile on his face as he mumbled a quiet ‘I know.’ before tapping his card onto the screen. 

Obsessive!Choso kept those few words in his mind whenever he caught a glimpse of his wallpaper. ‘My girlfriend.’ he'd think, smile on his lips when he would refer to you as that.

Obsessive!Choso saw a picture of your laptop and a notebook next to it in your story. Knowing you were home, knowing that you were waiting for him to text you, you had to be right? Opening the google doc on his computer, seeing that you were on it as well. A few minutes of him watching your cursor type a sentence and delete it. Before seeing a message from the upper right corner of his screen. A message from you, ‘Hey, I know it's late. But I hit a wall with this stupid project- could I call you?’ he read, eyes widening at how right he was. Clearing his throat at how forward you were being. Call? As in on the phone with you? 

Obsessive!Choso who almost choked when he heard your voice on the phone. Pressing the phone closely to his ear, closing his eyes with a smile when he heard you say- “Heyyyy”, not being able to find the words to say to you. A small ‘hi’ leaving his throat. Hearing you let out a small giggle before hearing you place your phone down. “So i'm on the doc- and I saw you were on it too-” you started, Choso pictured you. Sitting in front of your laptop, smile on your face while speaking. He could tell by just your voice that you were smiling, smiling while talking to him.

Obsessive!Choso who desperately wanted to record the conversation- well, more like record your voice. He wasn't the one speaking a whole lot. You had gotten used to filling the silences he left in the air, being able to tell that he wasn't much of a talker. But little did you know that he was thinking longer replies, but only thinking them. Smiling when he’d hear you ask a question. You started reading aloud what you had written- making sure it sounded right. Choso accidentally let out a low ‘Mhm’ while hearing you read, closing his eyes in regret when he heard you stop. “You sound so different on the phone-” you started, almost a whisper. He exhaled quietly in relief when he heard your fingers start to press onto the keys of your computer. The call didn't last longer than 20 minutes, you just wanted to ask him his opinion on if what you had so far sounded smart or not. But in his mind, the only real reason you called was to speak to him- to hear him. 

Obsessive!Choso who felt like he could die when you told him ‘thank you’ for his help. But when you mumbled a tired, “Goodnight Choso-” before you hung up, made his cheeks flush and his heart pound in his chest. The first time you had ever said his name. Immediate regret filling his gut when he remembered he didn't record it. But he would always remember it, always keep it close to his heart in memory. 

Obsessive!Choso was walking to the campus coffee shop after class. Seeing you speaking to some guy- probably one of the so called friends you choose to surround yourself with. Slowing his pace when he saw you slowly backing away from him- and nodding no at him. Seeing this guy, reach for your arm, speaking over you as he stepped closer. Even from a distance he could see your face look uncomfortable. At that moment, Choso didn't know what came over him. He walked over- more like storming over. His face full of anger, slapping a sweet smile onto it when he saw you look over at him. “I was just about to go find you.” Making sure to keep a sweet tinge in his tone when he spoke to you. Smile of relief on your face when you saw him. Dark eyeshadow and combat boots almost making you feel safe. A quiet ‘hey’ trailed from your lips, feeling the stranger's hand fall from your arm, taking a step back. “Me too, I wanted to bring up-” you started. Rambling about what the professor had taught today, noticing the guy back off before walking away. Seeing you exhale before looking at his face. “Thank you.” you whispered, looking down at your shoes. “A friend?” he asked, his tone deeper than before. Using the same tone he spoke to you while on the phone. “Absolutely not-” you smiled, looking back up at him. “Just some guy from my public speaking class. He's been bothering me since the first day.” You laughed, seeing him crack a small smile, his hands fidgeting with his rings. “Are you busy? I was just about to go grab a coffee-” you started, looking away from him in the direction of the same coffee shop he was going to.

Obsessive!Choso who thought; ‘Aren't you forward. Trying to spend more time with me?’ as he nodded no, “I'm not.” he replied, his hands in his pockets.

Obsessive!Choso who was convinced you were starting to feel the same way he did, even if it was only a week since they paired you together. I mean, who would ask someone if they wanted to have coffee with you? “Sorry if you had plans- or whatever.” you started, walking slowly next to him. “I didn't.” he mumbled, hearing his boots drag onto the concrete. “The least I could do is buy you a coffee!” you exclaimed, ‘No need to thank me- who else but me will protect you from all the horrible men in the world?’ Choso thought, looking over to see you, remembering all the people who have been broken by men who didn't love them. Knowing that you would never have to worry about those silly things with him. 

Obsessive!Choso who purposefully switched the two coffees you had paid for- in hopes he'd be able to share an indirect kiss with you. Knowing if he tried to pay, you'd see the picture of yourself he had in his wallet. Sitting down at one of the round tables, heavily ringed hands around the cup as he looked at you pick up his coffee. Making a face when the sour taste hits your tongue. “I think they switched our cups-” You smiled, pushing his cup towards him. Seeing him mutter a feigned ‘Oh’ as he gave you the correct cup. His eyes focused on the light print of lipstick you had left on the black lid. “I could get you a new one- I know some people are huge germaphobes.” You smiled, taking a sip from your cup to wash the bitter taste from your mouth. “There are worse things in the world than sharing a drink with someone.” He murmured, slouching in his seat, seeing you give him a sweet smile in return.

Obsessive!Choso who took one sip of his coffee, only to assure you that it was okay that you had drank from it. Who felt his knee start to bounce with anticipation when he felt the satiny feeling of your lipstick on his bottom lip. Hearing words falling from your mouth, but not listening to them. Thoughts of how technically that was your first kiss with him. Seeing your phone light up on the table, hearing you sigh loudly. And it continued to light up- repeatedly. “Jesus- this girl doesn’t know how to take a hint.” You exhaled, picking up your phone and typing something. ‘Must be the girl from class.’ he thought.

Obsessive!Choso whose lips moved before his brain could process what he was saying. “The girl from class?” he asked, seeing you look up at him and smile. “Yeah- she keeps trying to come over to my house for a sleepover.” You placed your phone down, “That girl is the epitome of peaked in highschool.” You mumbled, Choso finally found an opportunity to ask you. “Why are you friends with her?” he questioned, seeing you inhale at his words. “I chose this college to get away from all the bullies and all the pretentious people who would live the same boring suburban lives.” You started, “And to become myself- to find myself.” You mumbled, looking away from him. “Imagine my disappointment when I got here and it was full of superficial delta chi’s-” You laughed, seeing him return a smile to you. Humming in response to your words. “I was never good with confrontation- The idea makes me anxious and uneasy.” seeing him look at you with his head in his hand. Eyes half lidded while listening to you. His pointer finger tracing doodles onto the table. Liking the way you opened up to him, letting him get to know you. Being able to hear your unfiltered thoughts, not the bullshit you over thought before you posted on your story. 

Obsessive!Choso who paid close attention to what you were saying, hanging onto every word that fell from your lips. Feeling yourself cringe at how you just aired out your business to someone who was practically a stranger, not knowing why it was so easy to speak to him. Somehow never sensing any judgment or lack of interest in what you said. Feeling a wave of relief whenever you were able to speak to him- a real person who didn't care about people's opinions. “Honestly I don't know why I'm still friends with her- I've tried to sit in other seats, hoping she wouldn't sit next to me in that class anymore.” You spoke, finally answering his question. ‘I know. I watched you every time you moved seats.’ Choso replied to your words mentally. “I think the reason I'm failing that class- is that I can't focus on what is being taught because she's in my ear the entire time.” You smiled, easing up on the heavy topic. ‘Aha. I knew you were failing- just like me.’

Obsessive!Choso wanted to suggest that you to sit next to him, knowing your childish friend won't follow you if you did. “Failing?” he asked, eyes scanning your features. “Yeah, I was hoping this-” You sighed, “stupid project would help my grade at least a little.” Closing your eyes and leaning back into your chair. ‘Ask me. Ask me and I'm yours. Ask me to help you.’ he thought, fighting off his excitement when you looked at him. Lightbulb practically popped up above your head, “You're doing good in class, aren't you?”  you asked, smile on your lips as he nodded yes without thinking. “I know that we were only paired for this assignment- but would you be ok with helping me study?” You smiled, eyes so bright he swore he could see the universe in them. “Of course.” He smiled, seeing you exhale and look down at the table with a smile.

Obsessive!Choso who almost let out a small giggle when he saw your face flush. ‘Are you- blushing?’ he asked himself. The question you asked him didn't make him nervous. He understood most of what was being taught, but he didn't have the energy to physically write the essays, and besides- Choso preferred spending his free time thinking of you. Not of the stupid course work that he didn't need for real life. Trying to get to know you better through your social media. Dissecting every single photo you posted. Zooming into the background of your bedroom, seeing if he could find anything worth researching. A band poster, a shirt on the floor, a stranded bottle of nail polish he could buy so he would match with you- anything that would let him see you. The real you- not the person that you pretended to be with the fake friends you had. The person he saw a flicker of that day at the cafe. The person you came to this college to become.

-

pt 4 here

(PLS LET ME KNOW IF U WANNA BE TAGGED IN THE NEXT PART PLSSSS) omg thank god I posted this. I am alr writing pt 4 I don't CARE. this is my new passion, wrote this while listening to 'Such Small Hands- La Dispute' Choso thinks this is all fun and games, what happens when he sees I am crazier than he is ?

[changingplumbob]

Day nine - Connor group part 2/2

@corrienteallita, @eljeebee, @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants, @hashimasims, @jonquilyst, @riverofjazzsims

Isabella: *smiling and clapping shyly*

Isla: Wow! I actually won?! I can't believe it!

Isabella: I suppose we're not dreaming

Isla: Guess I have some bowling skill after all

Isabella: *laughing* We wouldn't have known if the challenge hadn't happened

Isla: I hope they get a bowling alley in Sulani

Dee: UGH! Don't talk to me

Nyami: I don't think you did bad

Dee: I didn't! I got a couple of strikes! Which broken bit of code was keeping score?

Nyami: Isla did get a better overall score. I mean you got that gutterball after all

Dee: How are you so neutral about this

Nyami: *shrugs* I never expected to do well and it's just one challenge. Hopefully the next one isn't sports

Kaye: *runs hands through hair and redoes her ponytail*

Berenice: As the Magnolia Promenade folks say "LE SHRUG"

Kaye: This is fine, this is totally fine

Berenice: You'll be fine, roomie of mine! You're still in it to win it

Kaye: You're right. It's still early in the challenge

Berenice: oh, no rhyme back? She's upset, I guess, so I'll cut her some slack…

Isla and Isabella were both surprised by their wins but were happy with Deanna revealing the duo date would be at a park. While Deanna begun by flirting with each of them the date atmosphere remained more friendly than flirty. Both Isla and Isabella had good stories to share and the group remained happy.

Back at the villa for the afternoon. Again room doors were locked, but contestants were allowed to do whatever they wished before dinner.

Deanna gathered the contestants on the patio where she had made some lemonade- but no one seemed interested in drinking. Berenice was quick to talk to Deanna though, telling her some funny stories. Isabella and Nyami sat at the edge of the pool and had some bonding time while Dee told Kaye she didn't believe she'd really be able to dive flawlessly. Kaye walked all the way over to the splashpad and diving platform but at the last minute decided not to.

When dinner time started to approach Deanna prepped and cooked some mushroom steaks on the grill (Kaye is a vegetarian after all). Isla grabbed the closest seat by Deanna at the bar with Dee and Kaye not far behind. Isabella and Nyami seemed happy to take their plates to the edge of the pool and continue their chat.

For the skill building time today both Isabella and Berenice chose to sharpen up their wits by studying logic. Dee and Nyami both read up on rock climbing, honing in on the specific skill. Kaye decided to work on her charisma by speaking to the mirror while Isla used her time to improve her video gaming.

I interview my sister as she works on preparing food for tomorrow.

Devin: How are you feeling about today De

Deanna: Yeah not too bad, everyone seemed rather relaxed which was nice

Devin: Not as much drama as some groups?

Deanna: Definitely not

[jackactuallywrites]

All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving Part 27

Warnings: Ghost backstory (it’s heavy)

Summary: You’re in Ghost’s car on the way to his actual house! That means yapping in the car 🙂‍↕️

Word count: 1,793

ao3 link

When you were in Ghost’s car, you realised what a typical lad he was.

Granted, he didn’t have the usual empty cans of monster or red bull scattered in the footwells, and there weren’t any subwoofers installed in the boot, but he did have the old house classics blaring out the speakers in the front, and it did stink of cologne— not that you were complaining.

You’d taken it upon yourself to educate the man. Not that you didn’t respect the old gods that were Prodigy, but Ghost’s playlists needed a bit of an update. His Gaga knowledge didn’t go past her fame era, a travesty! That was the first educational lesson; you didn’t have enough time to really dive all the way into each bop, so you just played a few hits from each era. Then, it was time for his introduction to slut pop, Petras, Ayesha Erotica, and strangely enough, Rebecca Black. You still weren’t over her comeback, but by God, the woman had turned out to be a phoenix.

You’d never expected to be driving down the motorway with Ghost, blasting Encore like he was one of the girlies, listening to his rough voice singing along, off-genre for what you expected he’d sing usually. Though he confessed to liking this ‘new’ genre, you weren’t convinced it was really his speed, so you switched over to another genre within the same sphere.

“So,” you explained, “Sleep Token is like, slut pop, but for metal. Baby-making metal. For getting your freak on in a graveyard, you know?”

He snorted, “Sensing a theme with your music love. Slut pop, slut metal, you tryna tell me something?”

You arched a brow, “There a problem with being a slut?”

Ghost laughed, “When did you hear me say that?”

You dropped your defence again, smiling, “I mean, it’s mostly a slut in theory rather than in practice.”

“You a poser, then?”

“What?”

“Looks like I’ve got more of a claim than you.”

You tilted your head at him, a little puzzled, “We being sneaky about prying into each other’s pasts?”

“Got no secrets from you, love. Well, no civvie secrets.”

You clucked your tongue, “Damn, and I was really hoping for the locations of those nuclear weapons.” You shifted in your seat, adjusting the seatbelt over your chest, “Alright, let me pry then. What’s your magic number?”

That earned a full belly laugh from him, and he shook his head at you, “Christ, the blokes you’ve been with give you numbers? Notches on their bedpost? Fuckin’ juvenile, that is.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You telling me you lost count?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, teenage Simon was a bit of a dog.”

Your intrigue was piqued, “Really?”

He glanced away from the road for a brief second to give you a dazzling smile and a wink, “You’ve seen my face, what d’ya expect? The ladies loved me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, and he placed his hand on your thigh, “All in the past, love. Long in the past. Can’t really pull when I wear the mask. That and the whole, legally dead, family annihilator thing. Kind of a dampener on the ol’ love life.”

It was so typical of him to drop serious lore in a light conversation. You shifted so you could look at him better, brows skyrocketed upwards, “Beg pardon? Legally dead? Family annihilator? What the fuck?”

He looked straight ahead at the motorway, his fingers starting a light drumming on the steering wheel, “Ah. You didn’t look us up?”

You blinked, “Well, no. I figured what with you being all mysterious SAS and such, you wouldn’t have any presence online.”

“Oh, I got a presence, alright.”

You frowned. Did you really want to open Pandora’s box? Fuck that, you weren’t going to get your information from secondary sources online, not when you had the man himself in front of you.

“I want to hear the story from you.”

“S’not a nice one.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that from the family annihilator thing. Nice stories don’t tend to include that.”

Ghost gave a sigh, his hands tightening and then loosening on the steering wheel, “Long and short of it, some cartel cunt killed my family. My mam, my brother, his wife, and my nephew. Framed me.”

You didn’t really believe stories like that existed outside of comics. Jesus fuck. Ghost shifted, resting his back against his seat, as though he was trying to get comfortable, like he hadn’t just revealed a nightmare of a life. It seemed more that he was trying to appear blasé about something that had no doubt left some deep scars on his psyche.

You wanted to comfort him, but you knew he wouldn’t want your soothing touch; it would mean acknowledging how deeply hurt he was, embracing those feelings once more. So, you glossed over it with a joke, allowing him an exit.

“I mean, no reason why you can’t pull. Bundy and Manson got love letters in prison. Maybe you just got no game.”

That caught him off guard, his stony expression lightening up, and he choked out a laugh, “You what?”

“I mean, I love the girlies, but some of us are very dumb. You definitely could have pulled. Fuck, you could have a whole little cabal of freaks after you. Clearly, you just have negative game.”

He chanced a sideways glance at you, “You tellin’ me I can’t pull? I pulled you, didn’t I?”

“Well, I think a smarter woman would have called the rozzers on you the second they figured out you were breaking into their flat.”

“What, and you’re not smart?”

“I mean, my survival instincts are clearly absolute dogshit.”

“Can say that again.”

You smiled, “What can I say, I got a thing for freaks. And, maybe a little thing for masked men.”

He raised a brow, “Really?”

“All the baddest bitches do. Everyone knows that, Si.”

“You fucked masked men before then?”

A blunt question deserved a blunt answer, “No. Could never get the lads to wear one in bed.”

Laughter bubbled out of him again, and he shook his head, “Freak.” He tapped on the steering wheel, “So, uh, that mean you want us to wear the mask for you?”

The excitement in his tone was palpable, and you glanced over at him, seeing that familiar look of lust on his face. That surprised you. “Really? I talk about shagging other lads and you’re still turned on? No jealousy or anything?”

He grinned, “What, you want me to get all possessive and controlling?” He shook the thought off, “Not my style. Don’t give a shit about who you fucked before me. Not my business. S’long as you’re loyal to me now.”

“You know, you’re weirdly progressive for a military lad.”

He laughed again, “Love, ‘ve been in therapy for a decade and some change. What did ya expect?”

Sometimes you wondered if he was real. A gorgeous man, with a strong body, a big dick, and for once, a solid personality. Usually you could only get two of those, maybe three if you were lucky, but four?

“How long till the house?”

“Why? You want to stretch your legs? I can stop at the next services if you need.”

“No, I just want to sit on your face.”

The engine revved as he pressed down on the accelerator, indicator ticking as he got into the fast lane, speeding down the road for a minute before thinking better of it and dropping back down to the speed limit, and moving to the far left once more. He groaned, adjusting himself with one hand, “You are a bad influence, gorgeous. Got me driving like a boy racer.”

It was impossible to not have an inflated ego with the way he reacted to you, and you grinned, impossibly smug. He reached over to squeeze your thigh again, “‘Bout another hour to go, darlin’.

“We could always find a lay-by.”

“You seriously talking about doggin’?” He thought for a second, before groaning, “Got me seriously considering it and all. Dirty girl.” He shook his head, “Change the subject, love, ‘fore all the blood leaves my brain.”

It was tempting to continue teasing him, but it did have the annoying side effect of getting you wound up as well, and there was no prospect of release for another hour. His hand on your thigh was torture enough.

“So, what’s the plan for the next couple days?”

Simon answered without thought, “Bend you over every surface in my fuckin’ house.”

You laughed, though you refused to dismiss that tantalising idea entirely, “Yeah, and after that?”

He tapped on the steering wheel again, “Dunno. Imagine the house will need a bit of a clear out.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Have you lured me here with the promise of a holiday only to use me for free labour?”

He grinned, “Aye, maybe a little.”

You booed him, and he shook his head, still smiling, “Don’t worry, it’s not hard graft. Just dusting and vacuuming and that. The hard bit will come when I make you climb the Pen Y Fan with me.”

You raised a brow, “You’re making me go walking with you?”

“Aye. Want to show you where I did some of my training.”

“You’re joking if you think I’m doing SAS shit.”

He laughed, “You won’t have full kit on, and you don’t have to go full pace. It’ll be a leisurely walk for you. ‘ll even carry you if you get tired. Can take a pack up and all.”

You looked down at your trainers, “I don’t have the right shoes for walking!”

“We can go shops.”

“You seen how expensive hiking boots are? I don’t have £200 to drop on new boots.”

“I’m paying.”

“Si-“

“Don’t. My money, ‘ve got nothing better to do with it.” He gave you another sideways glance, “We could buy you all sorts of fun stuff to wear.”

You crossed your legs, “Don’t go broke on my account.”

He snorted, “Darlin’, I live pretty fuckin’ frugally. Could buy you a whole new wardrobe and not make a dent.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, biting it for a second, “Not a bad idea, now you mention it. There’s all sorts I’d like to see you in.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, “We’ll see. Let’s just stick with the boots for now, if you insist on getting me up that mountain.”

He shifted his hand from your thigh to your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours and bringing your hand to his lips so he could press a kiss to the back of your hand, “That’s my girl.”

[infamous-if]

Happy 1 year anniversary to this blog!

It was yesterday...though I do find it fitting that I've been focused on writing so much that I forgot lmao

When I first had the idea for Infamous, I didn't work on it right away. The concept was cool, yeah, but was it enough for interactive fiction? A medium I never even tried before?

I let it marinate in my head for a while wondering if it would be a good story or not. I listened to a lot of music, made a lot of idea boards and outlined routes but told myself I wasn't actually writing it. Just playing in a new literary sandbox with no strings! I was very close to not publishing my idea because it felt like it wasn't a story that I could handle. And it was daunting. I've published stories before, but they were completed novels that I could just forget about it and move on from once I was done. This was a commitment! I kept asking myself if I was even a good enough writer for the plans I had haha

But it didn't stop bothering me and I was getting irritable over my own brain creating this whole world without my permission. So I posted the intro post on a whim just to see what would happen! Turns out, I'm really happy I did!

One year later and there's been a whole community of people who have enriched the story and elevated it to a place that I wouldn't have been able to do it on my own. The amazing fanfics, the head canons, fan art and the suggestions, it's been really nice to work on this with the support and encouragement I've gotten. I think the best parts of the story so far have come from the collective, not me, and knowing that there are people who watched me serve my ideas on a platter like "here. take it pls." and accepted it is really nice. I'm grateful :)

thank you guys for reading the story and being kind to me and my ideas and having so many discussions over these characters that were once just in my mind, alone with me to tend to them. and to the if authors who have been here much longer, thank you for welcoming me with open arms. thank you to the group of if authors in particular who took me under their wing and gave me advice on how to handle things and how to move forward. you didn't have to come into my dm's and give me guidance or help me, but you did anyway and im eternally grateful!

I'm excited for 2024 to be the year that we really dive into the story. I still can't believe we're only 2 chapters in. it feels much longer, doesn't it? lololol

thanks!! <3

[erieotter]

THE LANDOSCAR PAST PIASTRELL FIC OMGOMGGGGGGG GORGEOUS CONCEPT!!!! would love to know anything you’d tell us about it 🙏🙏

wip ask game!

ok yeah this one makes me feel like a madman so let's get into it!!!

walk with me. lando and max are at a club over break, lando is drunk and bitchy because oscar isn't texting him back (lando cannot be normal about oscar despite swearing he doesn't feel any type of way about him) and makes a comment about how oscar is probably asleep because he's so boring, is probably even boring in bed, and max who is also on the rough side of buzzed says some throwaway comment like "well no he's actually quite good in bed but cheers" and lando just. cannot even think about it at all.

lando kind of forgets about it for the rest of the night because he's drunk and exhausted and thinks max was probably just chatting shit but then he wakes up the next morning feeling like something Terrible has happened, just a ball of anxiety and can't remember why. he has a text from oscar asking if he got home okay because he pretty much chucked his phone into his pocket after max decided to blow the trajectory of his life up and that's nice, he likes waking up to texts from oscar, so he sends oscar a selfie for proof of life and oscar calls him immediately.

i imagine the conversation goes a little something like: oscar speaking at a normal volume, lando telling him to quiet down because he's quite literally dying, says something like "gentle, osc" !! oscar says "that what you want? me to be nice to you?" which, obviously. oscar tsks, tells him no, he doesn't think he'll be very nice because lando couldn't be bothered to text him when he got back to the hotel, tells him he had to text max to make sure lando wasn't face down in a ditch somewhere and oscar saying max's name out loud just makes lando remember everything and suddenly he's throwing up off the side of the bed and he can still hear oscar on the line but can't bring himself to do anything but hang up the phone.

he spirals, obviously. max and lando go golfing later that day and lando's been thinking about max and oscar hooking up (was it serious? was it actually good?) for hours and finally just starts asking inappropriate questions because he can't help himself. that convo is basically lando saying "so when you and oscar were like --" and max says "fucking?" and lando whines and scrunches up his nose and tells max not to say it like that, and so max says "you'd prefer it if i said we were making love?" and that upsets lando so much he has to go sit in the shade.

lando essentially just keeps asking max intrusive questions about what oscar's like in bed while simultaneously ignoring oscar's texts and phone calls and max answers all of them because he knows how lando is. lando entertains the idea of being in love with max because surely it's not Oscar Piastri of all people and again max entertains it, even lets lando try kissing him (it's horrible) because he knows lando will come to the conclusion on his own.

i will again draw everyone's attention to this oscar because it's the oscar that was hooking up with max and i think that's beautiful. it's unfortunately also the oscar that was obsessed with lando and used to love when max would tell stories about him and was like. vicariously getting to know/crushing on lando through max.

the concept of oscar being max's before he was lando's while still being lando's in spirit is Intriguing to me. very much so.

my reservation with this one is that the nortrell dynamic is so specific and so solid and almost too real for me to touch if that makes sense. i can't imagine really nailing it the way i'd need to for this fic but i'm doing some research deep dives as we speak so we'll see where we end up.

[chihiro-mcdonaldz]

Hello as a person with Yanagi brainrot

What do you think each of the characters would react (I guess, except for Mai) to the truth of his ex relationship

( Honestly I just need some opinions or head-cannons on this)

thank you for reading and your consideration for even in bothering answering this ask!

hi you're so real for this I'm gonna yap now if that's ok but put it under the cut so ppl don't gotta scroll

going in order of the students numbers btw

ok so isono is first I think

I feel like isono would probably be conflicted, considering she (probably) doesn't really understand feelings of love THAT well, but would really just wanna be there for yanagi and support him

I think we all know harada had a ton of girlfriends, so he's probably one of the best to talk to about this 😭 I think he would probably be really upset over the fact that someone could do such a thing lowk,,,, would probably let yanagi hold Sawa for emotional support 😭 (that's what I'd do at least)

chiba,,,,, oh chiba my girl ever,,,,,,, she would probably be similar to isono, but feel kinda bad for yanagi (same girl same) and would probably just listen. would be closer to him after that lowk

kamimura omg the guy ever!!!!! kamimura would... hmmm this is tough.. would probably be a little more aggressive with anger towards the girl involved in the situation 😭 would probably be like "how could you fall for that" but also like "dude that fucking sucks sorry that happened" I think idrk 😭😭

well we already know Mai's canon reaction 😭 that episode fucked with me 💔💔

wada!!!!! ily wada!! they'd probably be like... yeah def the type to listen and offer sympathy I think,,, would probably just be more focused on yanagi rather than the other girl involved inthink

Sasaki (ow ow ow this shit hurts).... if this takes place in the kg (specfically after desicion game), would probably feel a lot worse for using him low-key.. probably keep a calm demeanor while he's talking, but would low-key breakdown the second she was alone

ojima (it almost autocorrected to Philadelphia help).... these are just hurting more and more geez.. I feel like it'd kinda go like [Bruise] and he would probably share his own story in sympathy for yanagi, would probably just be like.. yeah basically what I said

okazaki,,,,,,,,, would NOT be the best for listening to this story 💔 would honestly just be like the okazaki therapist episode 😭 very much just "mhm" and "yeah" and "how does that make you feel?" etc 😭

hama!!!!! I mean, low-key the ACTUAL group therapist I can't even lie... would probably be one of the best people for this icl,,,, would be very polite about it, kinda like the hiroaki nightmare episode, and would just listen and offer light comfort

tsuno :D (ow.) I feel like we know how this would go honestly, she'd probably also be one of the best and kindest people to listen to his story. would definitely comfort him and support him and also be like "if you ever need to talk, come and find me" and stuff,,, really sweet girl I love her

hiroaki,,,, basically just the reverse of [Boy talk].... maybe similar to [Girl talk]?? except different kind of,, they're like, perfect in that sense,,,, very much like when hiroaki was calling wada a fish kind of??? like that episode

.....tamba... oh Ms tamba..... I feel like she would probably be kind of surprised to find out everything, but still be somewhat comforting? not the best at comforting, but still do her best

oh hasegawa... probably would just listen and be pretty quiet whenever he was speaking 😭 and would probably just dive into his psychology knowledge and information on trauma to try and help,,, would probably be the best for LISTENING, not for jelping

watari,,,,, (I just watched chapter 4 again...) would definitely be pretty super nice,,, kind of like when she went "..thanks hama." I think,, would also probably focus more on yanagi rather than the entire situation, would really just wanna make sure he's ok

uhhhhhh here pls enjoy this sat in my drafts for a while

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 25

Damn. I actually hate seeing that number up there. Because that means it's done. Eight months, twenty-five chapters, 52895 words, and one hell of a ride.

I'll start posting the sequel on Tuesday, and will post Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays until it's done. I hope to get it done before October's end. But that's not looking likely at the moment.

But once it's done, I will post the epilogue. This was actually written first and was a way for me to flesh out the band members. Then I just wanted to dive right in to writing the full story. A link to the original idea here.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

~

The rest of the American tour while it had its ups and downs was pretty much was uneventful. When Steve got back to Cali, he got some actual therapy from someone Gareth’s therapist, Dr. Sam Owens recommended to him. To not only deal with the abandonment issues left by his parents and Nancy but to help deal with the sudden onslaught of fame.

It was going well.

It was the therapist that had strongly recommended going on the vacation with his two best friends. That really helped put his life in perspective.

They were out celebrating Gareth’s one year of being sober and everyone had been invited. Jeff, Brian, and Eddie, of course. Even Vickie made it out. Dustin, Will, Mike, Max, Lucas, Ellie, Hopper, Robin, all the members of The Fallen, sans persona. Gareth had really become friends with all of them, yes even Steve. Gareth and Shane became really close. It was nice to see.

“Cheers!” Jeff said holding up their glasses of sparkling apple cider that they had all brought to share.

“Cheers!” the rest of them cried, clinking their glasses together.

They had rented out a nice surf and turf restaurant for the occasion and everyone was catching up. The owner was a friend of Jonathan’s, Argyle Rivera. He had gotten his start with a pizza food truck and it just exploded.

“So what did you and Mike decide to do?” Steve asked when there was a lull in the conversation. “I know you two weren’t sure the last time I was in Hawkins.”

Mike and Will shared a bashful look before Mike said, “I wrote a children’s book and Will illustrated it. We sent it out to a couple of different publishers so we’re just waiting to hear back.”

“That’s amazing!” Dustin cried. “You guys are going to be awesome.”

“Yeah,” Will said brightly. “I finally convinced Jonathan into going in to photography at the local community collage and he’s doing really well.”

“Nancy is going to school, too,” Mike said quietly, knowing how most of the group felt about his sister.

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? What is the once great Nancy Wheeler going to be studying?”

Mike perked up a little that someone had taken a interest in what he said. “She’s actually going into journalism. Especially to be a war corespondent. After everything rightfully fell apart after the incident with The Fallen and Corroded Coffin, she took a hard look at her life and decided she hated the person she had become. So she’s been in therapy and has gotten into her dream school of Emerson.”

“That’s good,” Steve said quietly. Robin gave his a hand gentle squeeze and he returned it with a grateful smile.

“What are doing next, Ellie?” Brian asked. “Designing more epic costumes for the rich and famous? I saw that dress you designed for Lupita Nyong’o for the premier of her new movie. That was a gorgeous shade of purple.”

Ellie’s face dimpled in the force of her wide, happy smile. “Something like that. I’m just glad the dress turned out so well. I’ll be heading back to New York, to stay this time. I got a job at a fashion house that I’m really excited for.”

“What about you and Dusty?” Lucas asked, tilting his head. “I thought things were going great.”

Both Dustin and Ellie share a blushing smile.

“We’re still together,” Dustin replied. “I’ll be in Boston and she’ll be in New York. We’ll going to try and make it work.”

Max nodded. “Long distance can suck, but if the other person is worth it you can make it work.” She nudged Lucas’s shoulder and he grinned back.

“So you didn’t get traded to Lakers like you wanted?” Gareth asked Lucas.

He shook his head. “Maybe next year. But in the mean time, Max has a couple interviews at Tony Hawk’s video game company as a mo-cap performer for the female characters in his games.”

Everyone oohed and ahhed and congratulated her.

“I don’t have the job yet,” she muttered, but happily soaked up the attention anyway.

Dustin turned to Steve and Robin. “When are you two going to do something with your lives?”

Eddie winced and Steve and Robin didn’t even have to glance at each other to be suddenly on the same wavelength of doom.

If this was an anime you would have have seen the dark waves behind their heads.

“We make good money doing what we do,” Robin said darkly. “Yeah, it’s a bit jack of all trades, but it’s fun. We’re never stuck doing the same thing. We get travel all over the world. We get to meet famous people and all the perks of fame with the drawbacks of having our privacy invaded on the regular.”

“Jack of all trades, but master of none,” Dustin said to be pedantic. “Don’t you guys want to do something specific, like a teacher or a doctor?”

Robin snorted. “No.”

Chrissy hand covered hers, and Robin gave her a squeeze back. She was fine, just annoyed.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “And I don’t why being a jack of all trades is bad thing. Focusing on one thing is great for the people who can do it, but I love the different jobs. Roadie one tour, PA another, then EMT the next. It’s great.”

Dustin frowned, stabbing his plate with his fork.

“My therapist says people are like plants,” Gareth said, “some people are trees and they grow up slowly. Some are bamboo and in the right environment shoot up super fast. But some people are like periwinkle and grow out sideways. Robin and Steve are like that. It’s still growth, just not the growth you want them to have.”

“I guess,” he huffed. He looked up at Steve. “Are you happy doing what you do?”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance. “Yes, for all its faults, I am very happy.”

He nodded and they went back to celebrating Gareth’s year of sobriety. But under the cover of the loud celebration and raucous laughter, Vickie and Simon chatted quietly to themselves.

~

Steve and Eddie lay on the bed in Eddie’s mansion curled up together after sex.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked Steve when he had curled up under his chin and held on tight.

“We were out celebrating,” he murmured, “and I couldn’t even tell them we were in a relationship.”

“Most of the people there already knew, babe,” Eddie murmured. But when Steve didn’t say anything it clicked. “You wanted to tell the kids. Especially after the bomb Mike dropped about Nancy moving on.”

Steve nodded.

Eddie scooted down the bed to look Steve in the eye. “Whatever you do or don’t tell them is entirely up to you I don’t care either way.”

“You don’t care that we’ll never get to go on dates or be seen holding hands or kissing?” Steve asked seriously.

Eddie shook his head. “Do you want to know why?”

“I guess,” Steve said with a half shrug.

“Because when I first got into the music business,” Eddie murmured, “I slept with anyone who would give a passing fancy.”

Steve looked up at him in confusion. “But I thought you already had a crush on me then?”

“I did,” Eddie confirmed. “But here’s the thing, sweetheart, do you know who’s partners get torn apart the most in celebrity relationships?”

Steve shook his head.

“Those with non-famous partners,” Eddie said. “If your partner is anything other than a C or B list celebrity when you’re an A-list, you get called out for ‘slumming it’ and their partners get called all sorts of nasty names, but especially ‘gold digger’. Which is the last thing I wanted for you.”

“Is that why you were okay with being with after you found out I was secretly famous?”

Eddie rose up and tackled Steve into the pillows. “You listen close, Steve Harrington. That was absolutely not why. I didn’t even show up with the flowers intending on confessing anything other than knowing your secret. It was like I suddenly saw all the facets of the diamond I’d been admiring for years and realizing any reason I had to not put myself forward were stupid.”

Steve blinked up at him in awe. “Oh.”

“Yeah, baby, ‘oh’,” Eddie huffed. “Continuing to protect you from the shame and humiliation of the slings and arrows of the media is my mission in life, okay? And if you ever decide to come out, either as bisexual as Steve or as Steve as Abbadon, I will be there for you. One hundred percent.”

Steve’s eyes welled up and he nodded. “Okay.” His lips quivered. “I love you so much. I just want you to be happy.”

Eddie kissed him fiercely. “I know you do and you make me very happy. The Fallen, Abbadon, being closeted? All that? That’s just a part of you that I love.” He bounced onto the bed. “In fact...”

He grabbed his phone and started going through it. “Eureka!” He turned the phone around to a paint of a night, shielding a maiden from the sun and a large crowd of people. This is us, babe. I am the knight and you are my maiden. I won’t get tired, or upset that you need protecting.”

Steve blushed. He sat up and pulled up his knees to his chest. “When we first started coming up with names for us, we didn’t originally all have the same letter.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Wait, really?”

Steve shook his head. “Spence was just Death. Shane was always Astraeus. Simon was struggling with finding a name that fit.”

“And did you have your name picked out?” Eddie asked gently, knowing where this was going.

He pursed his lips and nodded. “I didn’t think we’d make it this far. I really thought we would have crashed and burned by now.” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “Part of the myth with Icarus and the wax wings that people forget was that he was flying all over the place. That if he flied straight and true like his father suggested, he would have survived. But he flew too close to the seas as well as the sun.”

Steve sighed and then looked over at Eddie. “And that’s what I thought I was doing with the band. Flying too low with the fact that we were preps wanting to break into the metal scene and then flying too high with the personas and masks. I was going to not only wreck my life but the lives of people I cared about.”

He let out a low shuddering breath. “That maybe I should have listened to my father. To go to college, to get a degree in business, to fly straight.”

“So what changed your mind?” Eddie asked. “Other than Shane wanting everyone to have all the same letter as a middle finger to everyone trying to guess your identities, I guess.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle. “Shane reminded me of the beginning of Icarus’s story. That he had grown up in the labyrinth, never seeing the sky. How could his father had not seen that of course Icarus was going to play the second they were out? That, yes they were fleeing for their lives, but this was the first time his son had seen the sun, felt the breeze on his face and touched the waves on the sea.”

“But if Daedalus had played with Icarus instead of yelling at him, his father would have been able to keep him from getting too close to the things that would have harmed him,” Steve finished. “That he would have been there to catch his son when he began to fall.”

“So what was the lesson?” Eddie prompted.

“I wasn’t Icarus,” Steve said. “I was always free, I might have fallen from grace according to my parents, but that like God in the Christian story, they were cruel and cast me out because what they wanted for me wasn’t what I wanted.”

Eddie smiled. “So you became Abbadon instead. The one that fell but God still relied on to destroy the wicked. The opposite of Steve Harrington. The boy that rose up like a phoenix from the ashes to be better than his parents dreamed.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Icarus was the first to fall mythos wise, but Abbadon was the one people fear coming back.”

Eddie pulled him close. “Well, you’re my angel, now. Fallen or not, I’m not giving you up for anything.”

Steve kissed him softly. “I’m putting a lot of trust you, Munson. Don’t fuck this up.”

Eddie laughed and kissed him fiercely. Then he proceeded to show Steve all the ways loved him.

Steve knew he might always have doubts and fears, but now he had the support system he always needed.

It was more than past time to fly and in Eddie’s arms there was no limit to how high he could go now.

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[4str0nuts]

DEEP DIVE INTO HORROPEDIAS AUTISTIC CODING : A GIANT ANALYSIS THING

ALTERNATE TITLE IS WHY THE FANDOM SHOULD CHECK OUT HOW THEY TREAT AUTISTIC CHARACTERS

Disclaimer before I go in; i’m using the global translations and the english voice acting as I am on the global server lol. This may affect some things but hopefully not a lot! Also i’m using this video [https://youtu.be/ygAkz4L2AMo?si=elrUeXGompMKYXUJ] for my proof and will provide timestamps!

Horropedia is one of the most loved characters in Reverse:1999 (bc haha funny autistic guy) , yet I literally see no serious posts discussing his character or even going into his character— even at a basic level. I’ve kinda been off to the side observing how the fandom treats Horropedia and it makes me question if people actually like him or some alternate version of him. Yeah sure this is a problem in every fandom but I’m too attached to Horropedia and i’m going to make it everyone’s problem.

There's all sorts of mischaracterisations of him where his autism is reduced to him being an “asshole” and “uncaring”, or that he is some funny reddit meme sona when that’s the case at all! Every other character gets to have serious posts yet when it comes to a very blatant autistic coded character, suddenly no one knows how to act despite the fact the fandom (going off of the twitter fandom here) prides itself on neurodivergency; so I’m here to dump a ton of analysis on Horropedia using ingame sources as proof as well as my own knowledge (as someone who is autistic myself), whilst also debunking mischaracterisations of him. I’m also doing this as I don’t think people treat Horropedias autistic coding seriously, seeing it as silly and thus ignoring all of his character.

Jumping straight in, Horropedia is not an asshole and is actually quite a caring character, even if he doesn’t show it conventionally. To me, it’s quite obvious that he cannot understand people at an emotional level, and always relies on his logical way of thinking no matter the situation; for example, when he broke Blonneys camera, he clearly does not understand why she is mad/upset and instead tries to comfort her logically rather than emotionally. Even when Blonney is very much showing she is mad, Horropedia cannot process that and cannot understand until she actually explains it [Part 5 54:07-57:20]. I can see why people may see it as an asshole move since he tells her to be “reasonable” over the camera breaking, though it is clear that this is another one of his autistic traits as people with autism have a hard time connecting with others’ in an empathetic way(which can come off as being blunt and uncaring) yet no one seems to mention that. Despite this, he still offers her to buy her a new camera once Blonney vents out to Jessica, coming to terms with what he did and making it up to her. [Part 12 2:10:37]

Adding onto the last point, Horropedia shows concern and care multiple times throughout the story. Even if he is bad at comforting people, he still tries to acknowledge what is wrong in regards to the situation. I’m trying to keep this short as I don’t necessarily think this is due to his autism but a cool detail I found with the English voice acting is that his tone gets softer when he’s more genuine (it could be seen as masking but shrug. Not too sure on this one as I'm making this point to show he does care in his own way.) He constantly makes sure everyone is safe and goes out of his way to protect others [Part 4 51:08 , Part 6 1:16:18-1:16:39], which is a small detail I think people gloss over. It’s just nice seeing Horropedia care for others in his own way since I struggle with expressing affection / emotions like him.

Back to his way of thinking, it’s practically plastered everywhere that he thinks in a logical way and takes everything at face value no matter what, which is a trait associated with autism. At the very start of the very event, he even breaks down Vertins joke and still a conclusion was that she wasn’t the person he was looking for (knowing full well she was) [Part 1 11:06-11:50]. Horropedia also explains things at face value— in a basic and straightforward way no matter what it is, which is another example of not truly understanding things at an emotional level! [Part 9 1:42:45-1:43:09]This does not mean he does not consider the consequences of a situation, and Horropedia actively avoids situations where it poses a threat / harm to others. Mentioning this to point out how some people in the fandom treat him like he is stupid?— Despite how he is the basic definition of a nerd with references to it all over his character and voice lines! Yes, he could be seen as careless considering he goes to Green Lake just like that with no approval, but he certainly isn’t oblivious to dangers around him. Horropedia himself explains that he is into horror movies because of how illogical they are(stating how it is like a puzzle), not necessarily the fear of them; so it makes no sense for Horropedia to directly put himself or others in harm's way.

Still relating to his way of thinking, Horropedia uses his horror logic so he can understand situations around him. He directly links back to his special interest to understand things— and to an extent others— better, special interests are a trait exclusive to autistic people! By using his horror special interest, he can understand the world better from his perspective. I don't even need to get examples of this because throughout the Green Lake event he makes references and links to horror movies, basing predictions on what to do in order to survive in the stereotypical like scene of Green Lake. Horropedia is full of reasoning, and despite his “debatable manners” (thanks Sonetto),he is not always too absurd with his predictions. It baffles me that people treat Horropedia like he is some happy-go-lucky kid, running head first into danger; he takes the time to understand a given situation in a way he would understand before doing anything.

Another really obvious thing is that he can’t understand social cues, or the body languages of others at all. Essentially he cannot read the room. The whole “I know the rules of social courtesy” [Part 12 2:19:19] line doesn’t necessarily mean he understands social cues— rules are (usually) based in logic and reasoning, and not emotions. Social courtesy just means the rules of society (or the foundation in this case? eh), and Horropedia knows he HAS to abide by the rules or else he will be in trouble. Something seen as ‘basic’ and ‘simple’ to people considered ‘normal’ by society may be hard to grasp by people who do not benefit from society (autistic people). Horropedia understands the ‘logical reasoning’ of how someone acts but he can’t connect with or understand someone else’s emotional responses. Literally look at most of his interactions with the film crew and Blonney, Jessica even steps in at one point to stop him from making the fight between Jason and Blonney worse [Part 6 1:11:38]; and even then he tries to use logic to break down the situation. Horropedia can’t pick up on social cues for the life of him, including body language and tone.

Smaller point here but I have a feeling Horropedia’s tone is hard to understand to some of the characters. Tooth Fairy couldn’t tell if Horropedia was joking towards the end of the event , where he shows off his “sense of humour”. Nothing much to add here I just found that really interesting…

Ive rinsed out all the notes I’ve taken on Horropedias autistic coding so far…….. feel free to add on more….. I may have gotten some things wrong because I have been working on this for a few hours straight. Surprisingly I still have more to analyse outside of his autism so if people are interested let me know bc i’m desperate .

TLDR: horropedia is autistic thanks for reading.

[bisexualbrainrots]

well I did not expect the support the what if it's getting tbh, a bit overwhelming, so here's 2/4 of the bucktommy scenes from 3x09, a steamy little treat for y'all.

1/4 if you want to read it first.

“Oh, fuck,” Buck was breathless when he took Tommy’s shirt off and finally got to take a look at his body. In the almost three years they’ve been working together Evan Buckley had never, not once, seen Tommy without a shirt on (the exception being calendars). It was a bit ridiculous given the amount of times they would all find themselves in the locker rooms or the showers.

Tommy smirked, propped up on his elbows “Like what you see?” Buck would’ve rolled his eyes had this happened before their kiss, but now all he could do was stare at the older’s body, mouth watering.

“Yeah… a lot, actually” he looked up at Tommy, his eyes dark with a lust that made the blue in his pupils almost indistinguishable. Kinard almost moaned at the sight, but he contained himself, gulping hard.

Buck’s eyes were scanning everything: the broad shoulders that Tommy definitely had a hard time fitting into most of his shirts on without stretching them, the strong arms that had carried so many people during emergencies, those huge hands Evan was sure would fit nicely around his neck, the pecs he desperately wanted to bite into, and the abs that seemed to have been carved by gods and not countless hours at the gym.

His gaze went somewhere he’d only heard in stories, mostly by Chimney, but never got to see in real life. It was a mix of pink and red still, even after all those years, and it made Buck’s heart ache from becoming aware of how it could’ve taken him, and that they wouldn’t be in this moment had one thing gone terribly wrong.

Buck’s left hand brushed the tissue gently, like it was this delicate thing, “I heard about the scar before but… I never thought that this was how it looks like, does it, does it still hurt sometimes?”

Tommy thought about it for a second, it has been a while since somebody asked, “Not like before really, I mean, there’s moments of the year where I have to massage it but otherwise— oh” it was like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs the moment Buck’s lips dived in, kissing the scar with such care as if the tissue was going to break any minute. Tommy was squirming, overwhelmed, clearly not expecting Evan to treat him that way.

It didn't get any better when Buck's kisses extended throughout the area, passing through the lines of his abs to his ribs, ascending through his pecs where Tommy moaned when he felt Buck’s teeth sinking in. He writhed when the younger’s tongue licked his neck, sucking a little at the pulse point which made Tommy hold his hands tightly on Buck’s waist, it was surely going to leave marks.

“Evan…” the way he said his name had Buck grunting, grinding down so hard it made both of them sigh.

Tommy chuckled “You love it, don’t you? You love to hear your name out of my mouth, don’t you Evan?” Buck’s only response was to swallow his own moan with Tommy’s mouth, not letting the older prepare for his intruding tongue, who made a similar sound as him in return for the kiss

Buck was grinding frantically, slick chests from the layer of sweat covering them, his knuckles white as they held onto the armrest, he wanted— he needed to get closer to Tommy. He stilled, his hands went down towards Tommy’s belt, shaking a little as he tried to unbuckle it, which made the older stop their heated kiss to hold their hands together, stroking them with his thumbs.

“Do you want me to—?”

“No, I… I want to do it” despite the shakiness of his hands, Buck took no time with the belt and fly, and tapped Tommy’s hip so he would raise them. He gulped hard when he took the jeans and boxers, and almost all of the air in his lungs was out the moment he slid them down, revealing every inch of Tommy to him.

His brain stopped working for a few seconds, which Tommy took notice of and helped him to get rid of the clothes, throwing them aside. The older took Buck’s hands and let them rest on his thighs while the younger settled kneeling between his legs.

Tommy looked at Buck, feeling a little vulnerable since he was the only one fully naked “I know I’m not… perfect, but—”

“You’re gorgeous Tommy, everything about you is,” Buck blurted out, still entranced by the sight of Tommy: a blush rushing to appear on his cheeks and chest, and a glimmer on his eyes. Buck quickly took off his own jeans and threw them somewhere around the living room before reaching to kiss the older’s pelvis as his hands moved towards the inner thighs, and looked at him to make sure he had his approval to continue.

When Tommy nodded, maybe a little too enthusiastically, Buck stopped for a few seconds to bite at the other’s hip, which granted him a whimper and a hand to be placed on his head. He smiled and licked at the bitemarks, trading a few more kisses on the area before his hands reached for Tommy’s cock, one hand handling the balls while the other the shaft.

“I know I don’t have a… frame of reference,” Buck chuckled, looking up at Tommy who was grinning, his eyes looking at the younger with endearment, “But I know what I like so, tell me if there’s anything you want differently”

Tommy bit his lower lip when he felt Buck’s wrist twist, and rested his head on the cushion he had placed on the armrest a few moments ago “Okay, baby”

[bloody-wonder]

looking forward to ur review of tgr :)

so yeah i don't like what these books are doing😬

not the foxes - the foxes are talented brilliant amazing show-stopping as always. love that neil is still a pathological liar. love that andrew is still a menace to society. love that both of them still take turns babysitting kevin. you probably know i'm an aroace kevin truther but honestly? kevin *all i want in life is to play the perfect game* day and thea *supremacy on the court above all else* muldani are a match made in heaven. this is the aro4aro rep we need. love renee's cameos too. the foxes vs ravens fight was harrowing but in narrative terms it was also the only logical escalation of their conflict, to say nothing of the fact that it was the only moment in this entire book (that is somehow longer than tkm) where literally anything happened that elicited any emotions from me. having to return to the trojans and their match with whoever the fuck was super jarring. it's like you're made to acknowledge that the real story is taking place elsewhere and then forced to stay over here where nothing interesting is happening to anyone important.

ig people often criticize the plotlessness in jean's trilogy and then other people counter that this is a feature and not a bug bc the story is a character driven narrative about healing from trauma and rediscovering yourself etc etc. while i agree with the idea that neil and jean are different people who require different story structures, i don't think that jean's books succeed at this slow-moving character study/development format. when people defend something as character driven, they usually mean that the character work in a text is its raison d'être, which is why the author channels the narrative resources they could've used for the plot into the character work, making it superior to the one in a plot-driven book, for example. i don't think the character work in the new series is that good - or any good at all when compared to the supposedly more plot-driven og trilogy.

jean and jeremy are the only characters with any depth but neither of them is interesting to follow. jean lacks agency and, while i understand that this is how his trauma manifests, i simply cannot get invested in his arc bc he just does whatever he is told. he used to do bad stuff bc he was surrounded by bad people, now he's doing good stuff bc his good friends the trojans tell him to be nice, practice self-care, turn the other cheek etc. this is a simplified and unserious idea of healing that is apparently rather appealing to many but to me feels condescending and narratively bankrupt. i don't want to read about the therapeutic power of cooking, gardening and other cozy cottagecore activities in my sports mafia books. i wish jean had joined the foxes after all. maybe his Healing Journey wouldn't have been as straightforward but it would've made for a much more compelling, meatier story.

taken by itself jeremy's tragic backstory is quite solid, however when contrasted with other major aftg characters his problems come off as annoying. to quote a goodreads review i just saw: jean is out there reenacting a little life and jeremy is sad bc the only person in his family who likes him is his butler - who he has. in his mcmansion. boohoo a tear for your discomfort :// ik we're not discussing trauma as if it were a competition but let me just say - there's a reason we find out about matt's and allison's backstories mostly from the extra content. at any rate, the deep dive into jeremy's sad family life doesn't add anything particularly valuable to his character bc the development is lacking. while jean goes on his flimsy self-actualization journey, jeremy remains boringly static. i suppose he will get an emancipation arc in the last book but, given that he's one of the two pov characters and the love interest besides, it will be too little too late.

speaking of romance, i don't feel any chemistry between them. from time to time one of them will mention in their inner monologue that he finds the other one attractive and ig they do become friends but there's no spark, no tension of any kind. why should these two characters end up together, beyond the fact that they're two queer guys who keep hanging out? idk maybe this is just a personal preference but i was much more invested in jean's unrequited crush on kevin. this jerejean book made me a kevjean shipper, i hope y'all are happy now😐

the rest of the trojans are non-characters. i still cannot tell cat and laila apart, to say nothing of the rest of the team and staff. sure, i know more facts about them - laila's uncle owns the house, cat's the one with the motorbike, coach rhemann has a husband, this teammate is trans, that one uses they/them pronouns, these two are himbo jocks, there's a bunch of people with ethnic names so we know the trojans are a diverse team - but i don't know who they are, what purpose they serve in this story or why i should care if their home burns down. (seriously, when it comes to lost property i care a lot more about neil's murder racquet that was confiscated in trk and still hasn't been returned >:( ). in fact, now it has become painfully clear that this is a typical case of style over substance type of minorities representation - the surface level rep is in your face but there is nothing material behind it. it says nothing, it doesn't make for interesting characters or serve any other narrative purpose. it's just nora's failed attempt to address the common criticism of the lack of diversity in the og trilogy.

while the trojans are hardly convincing as individual characters it can be argued they work as sort of a collective character - a smiling faceless crowd whose job it is to therapy speak at jean (who already goes to two different therapists) until he heals from his trauma in real time. toxic positivity is not the right word to describe this but i hope you understand what i mean. absolutely suffocating to read bc there is no push and pull. jean brings nothing to these relationships so it ends up feeling like he just joined another cult.

(one notable exception to this problem imo would be tanner: he's interested in the raven drills and jean is interested in improving the trojans' skills so the contrast of their personalities is complemented by this mutual exchange and benefit and both guys can bond over exy, you know, the titular Game in "All for the Game"? tbh given how much exy is actually played in tsc and tgr nora should've just filed jean's books under a new series called "The Game? I Don't Know Her"🙄 anyways as a result, instead of coming off as an overused gimmick their antisocial great dane vs playful golden retriever puppy dynamic does feel genuinely cute and endearing. i wish nora used this reciprocal approach with other relationships in the series, instead of just having everyone baby jean around all the time.)

my thoughts keep coming back to the conversation between jean and cat (or laila? i honest to god have no idea which one of them) after the banquet where he says that it doesn't matter that everyone liked him bc he had to perform this civil persona in compliance with the trojans' public image (and to subvert people's expectations of his raven behavior) and she gives him a lecture about being kind and polite as if he's a 3yo. he says people didn't meet the real him and she insists the rude obnoxious jean is not the real him, the implication being it's his raven trauma shadow self that he has to hide and overcome or in any case keep it in check so that it doesn't negatively influence his relationships. this to me feels like a notable reversal of what aftg has always been about, of what makes it special: the foxes' "life fucked us over and we're gonna make it everyone else's problem and, guess what, we'll find friendship, love, respect and fulfillment even so" becomes the trojans' "take your rant to the group chat, only post good vibes and positive affirmations on main". i wonder if this change in philosophy can to a certain extent be explained by the fact that aftg was conceived and written mostly in the early-ish days of the internet whereas jean's books are being written in the age of online performativity and the digital panopticon of social media.

the last thing i want to discuss is the trojans' ethos of sportsmanship, expressed in these new books as radical nonviolence in the face of their opponents' cruelty, radical turning of the other cheek, as it were. i don't know about that. in simplified terms, one could argue that the ravens were very good at exy bc they're evil and the trojans are good at exy bc they're kind. however, remarkably, when the two teams were pitted against each other the ravens consistently prevailed. it took a team that had the best of both worlds and a couple of tricks up their sleeve on top of that in order to end the ravens' reign. two books later it appears that the foxes are still the only feisty kid on the block who is brave enough to stand up to a bully and they're getting whumped for it like nobody's business, while everyone is gasping and sighing in commiseration, "those poor foxes can't catch a break", as if their misfortunes just happen randomly and not in retaliation for their dedicated and proactive campaign to rid their favorite sport of corruption and harassment. i'm not saying that the trojans' should engage in some sort of militant activism but i am saying i liked their famed sportsmanship much more back when it was expressed as this moment of chivalric solidarity with the underdog instead of disarming catchphrases or banquet respectability politics or whatever. now that the foxes took one for the team (again) and eliminated the ravens they finally created a playing field where the trojans' nonviolent approach can win a championship - which does feel like an overall positive for everyone but,, no thanks to the latter🤷‍♀️