#cause I gotta work on my background text

[carica-ficus]

How is there STILL so much work to do for my thesis???

[goldfades]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!

─ word count | 2.6k

─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????

─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk

─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.

"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.

You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."

You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.

"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."

Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."

You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."

You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"

"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.

With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.

After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.

You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.

But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.

Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"

"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"

Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."

"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.

As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.

You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.

In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.

As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.

"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.

You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"

Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.

"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.

Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."

You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.

You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.

"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.

"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.

"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"

"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.

"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.

As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.

At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.

But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.

Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.

Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.

──

"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.

"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.

Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"

Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"

"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"

"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.

As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.

She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.

"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.

"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."

With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."

Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.

She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.

The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.

Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.

Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.

As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.

She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."

She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.

"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."

Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.

"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.

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[savingcrxws]

eyes on fire | carmen berzatto headcanon

carmen berzatto x ex!reader (but not for long...)

warnings. language, mentions of suicide & death (mikey)

authors note. thinking of turning this into a fic but i just wanted to get these thoughts thrown onto a page for now | EDIT 7/7: ITS A FIC! HERES PART ONE

you hated carmen berzatto, to say the least

you had been each others first s/o and spent a lot of the end of your teenage years attached at the hip

every berzatto family function (no matter how messy they always ended), every school dance, every hell's kitchen rerun--you and carmy were together

mikey liked to call you guys soulmates, watching how you and carmy just seemed to click like that- a statement that never failed to make carmy go flush in the face (que richie faking barfing in the background)

you were one of the first people that carmen told about his wishes for the future-how he wanted to take up the restaurant with his brother and continue the berzatto tradition

you loved the way his eyes lit up when he talked about cooking with his family-the way he gave his all into his aspirations

"well you gotta make sure i'm the first one to eat those fancy sounding dishes when you start working at the beef, carm"

"absolutely, babe. i wouldn't have it any other way"

however, like everyone after high school, you and carmy hit a rough patch that sunk your relationship -- you were planning to go to college for business administration and carmy was leaving chicago to go to culinary school

you two definitely attempted everything in your power to stay together-late night skype calls, daily texts, hell you even offered to fly to new york to spend time together

but the more swamped you got with school and the more carmen got slammed with cooking (especially right before he went of to Noma), the more the truth begun to show itself

the breakup was messy, because it was less a breakup and more of ...

you: what are we doing right now? like, as a couple?

carmen: i think that i need to focus more on my career right now

you: oh, so..are we breaking up right now? (read 9:57PM)

you: carmen? (read 10:15)

you: ok, asshole, be that way (delivered)

that's right, that motherfucker ghosted you

despite the tumultuous ending of you and carmen's relationship, you were still close to sugar and mikey (and, unfortunately for you, richie)

sugar was adamant on flying over to copenhagen and have a "conversation" with her brother herself + mikey and richie were not too far behind on the cause

"it's fine guys. let's just all agree that carmen is a soft little bitch" you said, trying to lighten the mood even though you knew that you were still racking thru the pain being broken up with so suddenly

you deal with the breakup harshly at first, but you put a lot of that emotion towards your own growth

fast forward a couple years, you graduated college and are on the up-and-up in chicago as a successful business marketing manager

you get closer to the berzattos, strangely, as carmy gets more distant

you don't think of carmy much anymore but it grows harder as he wins awards and recognitions in his field that honestly make you..proud, in strange way

then, mikey dies...and a lot of things change for you

you help sugar and richie plan the funeral, and something sour sinks into your stomach when you don't see that familiar head of dirty blonde hair during the service

some months pass and you try to gather yourself and get back to normal after mikey's passing

richie invites you down to the beef one day to "catch up" randomly

you go, if not to just see tina and the rest of the crew but are met with great surprise when you see him

carmen motherfucking berzatto, in the flesh, standing behind the bar yelling to richie about something nonsensical

he stops yelling when he hears the door open and literally freezes in place when he sees you

you stare at him for a second, taking in the man who once had your heart, noting the new tattoos and the new way he styled his hair and he seems to be doing the same

then, richie breaks the silence--"oh my goodness, what are you doing here, sweetheart?"

you and carmy speak at the same time

"richie, you motherfucker"

"richie, you dick"

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait: part II (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! series masterlist summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, phone sex, smut, oral (f receiving). some sad childhood talk, all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (19K words.)

With how easy the first date had been to make, Eddie wasn’t expecting it to be so hard to pin you down for the next one. Neither of your schedules had lined up for the rest of the week, and up until next Friday neither of you had much free time. You either had to stay at work late or he had to stay late for the three extracurriculars he was running (jazz club, D&D club, and co-runner of the school’s GSA) – which he’d only be annoyed about running if he didn’t absolutely love the kids. The extra overtime didn’t hurt either, perks of working at a rich kid private arts school.

At first he was nervous you were busy going on dates with other guys until he called you one night and he could hear your boss in the background waxing poetic about the shift to lab grown sapphires. Then he’d feel bad for feeling so accusatory to start – you’d never said anything to each other about being exclusive. Hell, you’d only been on one date. But you talked every day, and fuck did that feel good for Eddie. 

g’morning pretty  ew you’re obsessed with me. good morning, boy

He’s happy he knows you’re joking because he’s certain no other guy would get it. He knows you read his text and screamed into your pillow, cheeks hot and chest thrumming. That’s why you always have to respond so mean so that he doesn’t know how much you like him back. This backfires, because he can tell that the meaner you are, the more you like his attention.

what’s your weekend look like? i know you leave for AZ on sunday but i’d really like to see you before you go. 

You were headed to a gem trade show in Tucson on Sunday for a few days. You went every year you’d been working for your boss, you told him all about it on the phone. You’re cute when you’re excited but he didn’t want to embarrass you by saying so – just let you rattle on about all the things you get to see. You promised to send him pictures of some of the cool fossils you might come across, all of the big crystal furniture.  “You were a weird dinosaurs kind of kid, right? You’d be into pictures of fossils?" “Why are you so mean? Would you go up to nine year old me and call him a weird kid that’s into dinosaurs?” “No, he’d be so sad.” “So next time you wanna say some mean shit, imagine you’re saying it to nine year old me.” “I bet you were a cute kid,” you thought out loud, “You’re a really cute adult.” 

“You think I’m cute?” “The cutest.” His face burned at every compliment you offered him, flushing dark pink at every sweet word you said. He was a mess. Embarrassment would flood him when he’d check his phone during class, the kids would never let him hear the end of it.  “Did you meet her on Tinder, Mr. E?”  “This is not appropriate class discussion guys,” his eyes would shut tight in frustration when they’d catch him texting you back and he’d reluctantly tuck his phone into his back pocket. They were way bolder than he was at their age. “No because like, you’re so happy though. Look how you’re smiling when you text her.” “Mr. Munson’s got that W rizz.”  “Is she hot?” “Be fucking forreal. He’s blushing so hard right now.” “Smash or pass, Munson?” “Guys, can you relax? You literally have a test right now." Bzz. Bzz.

i gotta run errands on saturday and go then leave sunday night :( working late friday cause we need to take gem inventory essentially He sighed, he didn’t want to wait until next Friday to see you again. 

i could run errands with you if you’ll have me. i’ll drive! you sure? it’s not super exciting stuff. you make it exciting. :) i’ll take you out to lunch. sound good? okay :) okay :)  see you saturday, cutie omg shut up 🙄 but yeah. see you saturday. :) 

He was nervous you’d notice he got his interior detailed the night before, but he was too embarrassed to let you get into the car in its original glory. He honked the horn in three short bursts, being mindful of the neighbors even though it was around 9:30 in the morning.  You inch out of the door of your place, the first floor of a quaint three family home, in your Princess Diana best. You dressed for errands and his heart swells, leggings and a big sweatshirt, little white sneakers and socks. You look cute like this, hurrying outside with your paper Old Navy bag blowing in the wind, relaxed and laid back. But you aren’t for long, you take a step outside only to feel the chill in the ‘second winter’ air of March and raise a finger to him before running back inside — reappearing with a lightweight parka haphazardly thrown on. You patter to the car and he tries to ignore his heart rate speeding up while he leans over to open it for you. “Hey you,” he smiles, “Good morning.”  “Morning,” you say with a coy smile. His chest leans forward slightly to kiss you as you settle in but he stops short. Are you there yet? You only kissed that night last week. What if you weren’t ready to kiss again? He swallows, settling back into his seat but recognizing how his car fills with your scent. You smell so fucking good he could eat you.  “So what’s the agenda, sugar?” he asks.   “Okay, agenda: Target, Old Navy for a return,” you say, raising your bag, “I have to run into Sephora to pick up some sunscreen for my boss, and um…I think that’s it? They’re all in the same shopping center over by um – by the movie theater.”  “Oh yeah,” he nods, “I know the one.”  He reaches for the sound system, turning the volume up a little, Lamb of God’s Vanishing crunching through his speakers. He watches for your reaction and can tell you don’t know it, but you don’t seem appalled or repulsed.  “Do you have a tunes preference?” he asks, voice velvety smooth, eyes catching on your parted lips, “It’s a long drive.”  “Uh…” your knee bounces faster, “I mean it’s your car. We should listen to what you wanna listen to.”  “Honey, I’m like your Uber driver today,” he offers, head tilting while he looks over at you. Eddie’s gaze lingers on your face with soft eyes, lashes a shadow over his irises, “How’m I gonna get a five star review if you don’t like the music?” 

“I do!” you assure aggressively, “I do like it.”

“Here, I have a plan,” he nods, holding his hand out, “Gimme your phone.” 

You toss him a look which triggers an eye roll from him, “Just trust me, give me your phone.” 

“Here’s the bargain, I connect your tunes to my car,” he mumbles while he disconnects his phone from the car’s Bluetooth and connects yours instead, “But I get to pick the songs. Deal?” 

A giggle bubbles out of you, shoulders shaking loosely, “That’s ridiculous.” 

“But is it a deal?” he asks again. He takes a breath that inflates his chest, while you consider it. It’s not fair that you look so cute this morning, it’s not fair that he doesn’t have the confidence to just reach over and lay one on you like they do in the movies. He wasn’t lying when he said you were so kissable. 

“It’s a deal,” you nod. He watches your knee slow down to stopping. Eddie swallows, eyes traveling from your knees to your full thighs sitting fat in his passenger's seat with a quick scan that you don’t notice. 

“Okay, so let’s see…” he mutters, going into your music and scrolling through your artists, landing pretty early on with an enthusiastic nod that makes his waves bounce around his face. 

“Blood Brothers?” he asks, “Wow, you really did hate your dad, huh? I haven’t heard this album in years.”

“I started liking them for a boy back in high school,” you shrugged while he thumbed through the tracks, “Then started liking them forreal.” “That’s okay,” he smiles over at you, “You’d be surprised to see my Spotify wrapped every year. Never as mean and scary as you’d expect.” 

“No?” your brows raise, “Not a bunch of ‘Stabby Metal Scream Crunch Stab’ in your top ten?” 

He scoffs, settling on ‘Set Fire to the Face on Fire’, the opening Fire! Fire! Fire! leaking through the speakers, “I married the head cheerleader at my high school – I’d like to think my music taste is pretty eclectic. Metal’s just, y’know, the main course. Plenty of side dishes on my roster.” 

“You a big fan of having something on the side?” you quirk a brow at him through the rear view mirror while he puts the car in drive. He scoffs again, lips twitching up into a smirk. You’re quick and it makes his blood rush, his fingers drum nervously on the wheel while he keeps the car in place.

“Why’re you so mean, huh?” he teases, “Do I look like the kind of guy that’s had a lot of side pieces?” 

“Oh,” you start, giving him a once over, “Not even close.” 

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” he asks, putting the car in park again. He turns down the volume, turning his body completely towards you. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” you drone, turning yourself toward him in return,  “I guess I am.” Eddie clears his throat, tongue flicking over his full lips to wet them. 

“So uh…before we hit the road,” his voice cracks, heart rattling in its cage, trapped in his chest, “D’you-think-I-could-steal-a-kiss-good-morning?” It pours out of his mouth while his body goes numb – like the bandaid was ripped off but someone else did it for him. His hopeful voice when he presents the offer sounds foreign to him, but he knows what he’s asking you. Blood rushes in his ears, the steady thump of his heart pounding through his veins. Your bottom lip tucks into your teeth, eyes shutting briefly with anticipation, a tiny chuckle huffs through your nose. Your knee starts to bounce again. 

“Yeah, but it’s not stealing if I’m letting you have one,” you reply, your own voice becoming delicate and girlish, teenage nerves coasting down your throat through the back of your neck. He leans close to you, engulfed again in the scent of your perfume, head leaning to the side slightly while your movements mirror his. Eddie brings a hand up to hold your face, keeping you steady while he goes in for the kill, one he’d been hoping to make since he saw you last. Heart stuck in his throat, he almost feels a sob shoot through his chest when his lips touch yours. It’s as soft and warm as he remembers. As soft and warm as the moment he’s been replaying in his head since last Monday. 

You both break apart but he doesn’t move away from your face, hand dropping from your cheek to your bouncing knee where he gives it a gentle squeeze, “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I think maybe, yeah. But I’m excited, too. Y’know, to spend the day with you.” 

It’s his turn to feel giddy and embarrassed, a flush building steadily on the apples of his cheeks, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too. But it’s  just gonna be a nice, chill day, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, both of you wearing matching smiles. 

“I do have a rule, though,” his brows furrow, implying he’s serious. You look very seriously back at him. 

“I gotta kiss you every time you’re startin’a look a little too good,” he gives you a shrug of one shoulder before settling back into the driver’s seat while he pulls onto the road, “Cause I don’t know if you saw, but the way you look this morning is fucking illegal.” 

You let out a soft tsss from between your teeth, shaking your head while you settle back into your seat, “You’re so stupid.” 

“I’m just a man, sugar,” he tilts his head, readjusting behind the wheel before putting the car back in drive. He restarts the song before pulling onto the road, feeling like maybe this errands date would go much, much better than he’d planned. He drums on the steering wheel again, head softly bouncing along with the beat of the song while the lyrics scream through the car. You mouth along with them, staring out the window while you do. 

‘Those cold hooks, cemetery claws raking at the infant's jaws,Set fire to the horse on fire,Set fire to the dress on fire,Set fire to the stage on fire,Set fire to the stars on fire!’

“Damn, me and the band shoulder cover this,” he nods to himself, “We’d fuckin’ crush.” 

“Can you scream like that?” you ask, turning your head to face him, “I feel like I’d blow my vocal chords.” 

“Eh, sorta kinda,” he tilts his head from side to side, “I got plenty of practice. Do plenty of screaming with our own stuff, you sorta train your voice up to do it. I might not be able to scream as high but, I could harmonize with Jeff – lead guitar if you remember –” “I remember,” you smile, “And his wife Alycia.” 

“And is wife Alycia! Damn, look at you,” he smiles, “You should write my memoirs. But yeah, surprisingly Jeff can get pretty high up there – it’s super impressive.”

“Well when you cover it, I’ll come watch,” you nod, “You still haven’t really told me about your band.” 

“Corroded Coffin?” he asks, turning into a coffee shop drive-thru and pulling up behind a short line of cars, “Not much to tell. We play shows every couple weeks, in the summer every week, at a few bars around the city that are into that scene. We have fun – still play at our old stomping grounds in Hawkins, too. Same five drunks cheering us on for the last twelve years.” 

His eyes widen at the realization, “Twelve years, Jesus. I’m so fuckin’ old.”   

“Oh, thank god I only have two years until I’m fuckin’ old,” you laugh, “You don’t look old.” 

“You don’t look old either,” he smiles, giving you a once over that you immediately feel shy under, “What can I get you?” 

“Oh no, no,” you shake your head, reaching for your wallet in your Old Navy bag, “I’ll get it, seriously. You’re driving me.” 

“No, please, I’ll get it,” he says, pushing your hand down gently while you offer your card. 

“I wanna pay for it, you’re already going out of your way to do all this boring shit,” you offer again. He plucks your card from your fingers and flicks it into the backseat. He shrinks when your smile falls, you’re very obviously not taken by his actions. 

“Look,” he shrugs, voice lowering, “I didn’t wanna say anything cause I didn’t know how you’d react. But this location actually doesn’t accept money from women. I know, crazy right? So sexist. Its so gross of me to still go here when it’s totally against all my shit. But since they don’t accept any payments from women, I’m gonna have to pay or else we can’t get coffee.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hold back your laugh, “Fuck, why do you have to be funny about it?” 

“You think I’m funny, huh?” he grins, pulling up to the microphone box. 

“Yeah, funny lookin’,” you tease. Eddie ‘tsks’ a few times with a shake of his head, looking back at you. 

“What can I get you?” he asks again. 

“Medium, iced, caramel. Almond milk if they have it, regular if not,” you respond, crossing your arms. He orders and can feel your eyes on him, he wants to turn back around and kiss that pout right off your lips. You’re not used to having someone take care of things and he can tell, you don’t like it either. Or at least you don’t know how to let yourself like it. Two givers stuck in a car running errands with each other – he wonders if you’ve ever known how to take. 

He gets the coffees, yours with your milk and flavor, his iced and black. You say thank you when you take it, there’s something about your face when you do, a softness he feels like he’s not supposed to see. 

“Hey, you know my rule,” he says, leaning in again, “You’re startin’ to look at little too good right now.” 

Your embarrassed smile says enough when you close the gap between the two of you, lips pressing together in a soft and gentle peck. 

“Thank you,” he expresses, big brown eyes looking into yours before pulling back onto the streets. He turns the sound system up again, the opening of Cam’ron’s Hey Ma flows through the speakers, he nods enthusiastically. 

“Another banger,” he exclaims. 

“You know this song?” you ask with surprise. 

“I grew up in a trailer park, baby. You hear a lot of different music out there,” he shrugs. Eddie feels his throat choke up when he realizes he called you baby. But at least if you hated it, you weren’t showing any sign that you did. 

“Got drops. Got coupes. Got trucks. Got jeeps. Alright, 'cause we gon' take a ride tonight So ma. Wassup? Let's slide. Alright. Alright, and we gon' get it on tonight.” He likes that you’re impressed that he knows the words, of course he does. He grew up hearing this song all of summer 2002, running through the hose with the little kids, while his old baby sitters sat out in lawn chairs to work on their color. Playboy Bunny stickers on their hip bones to show off their tan lines. 

You both sing the opening verse to the windshield, windows coming down an inch as you turn onto the parkway, voices booming over Juelz Sanatana’s. 

“Now I was down town clubbin’, ladies night, Seen shorty she was crazy right, And I approached baby like, ‘Ma, what’s your age and type?’ She looked at me and said, ‘Yous a baby right?’” He hits the last red light before the long stretch of the drive, turning to you to deliver a passionate line reading of the lyrics. He’s surprisingly smooth, even impressing himself at how actually cool he’s being about it. 

“I told her, I’m eighteen and live a crazy life, Plus I’ll tell you what the 80s like, and I know what the ladies like, Need a man that’s polite, listens and takes advice. I can be all three, plus I can lay the pipe. Come with me, come stay the night.” 

He winks when he finishes the line and by the way you stop singing, he knows he’s got you flustered. You are easy. He wants to see how much easier it is. 

“You better be careful,” you warn, tongue caught between your teeth. “Yeah? I better be careful?” he grins, car pushing forward when the light changes so he can turn onto the highway. 

“You’re trouble, Munson,” you shake your head, turning your attention back to the stretch of asphalt ahead of the both of you, “You’re big trouble.” 

“She looked at me laughin’ like, ‘Boy your game is tight.’ I’m laughin’ back like, ‘Sure, you’re right.’” 

“D’you need a cart?” Eddie asks, taking a side step over to the push carts neatly pushed into each other in between the double doors of Target. 

“Nah, if I get a cart I’m just gonna use it as an excuse to buy more stuff,” you pull a face, shoulders dropping dramatically, “And while I’d love to have an excuse to buy more stuff, I just need a basket.” “Basket it is,” he grins, hand wrapping over the hard plastic of one of the handles, tugging a basket loose from where it’s encased with its brothers. You reach your hand out, taking a step closer to the entrance, our step triggers the automatic doors and he files in after you. 

He looks at your outstretched hand behind you and then up at your face, “I can hold it, Ed.” 

He gives you a small shake of his head, “Nah, I’ll carry it. You lead the way. What’s on your list?”  “I mostly just need to get travel stuff…like toiletries,” you think out loud, “I guess this wasn’t really much of a big errand now that I think about it.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, and he means it. 

You don’t go straight to the beauty section. You’re taken by the $5 and under shelves at the front of the store, full of small decor knick knacks that he recognizes from his own apartment. This is where Tati’s always picking up those little gold tchotchkes for the coffee table and bookshelves every other month. The same way Chrissy would always have new, tiny holiday themed pieces every year to sneak onto their mantle.

“So, do you want me to keep you on task?” he asks, falling in step next to you, watching your fingers toy over a felted bunny figurine for Easter, “Or do you want me to aid in you not being on task?” 

You look over at him, eyes scanning over his frame. He catches the way your eyes linger on the way his t-shirt fits him under his leather jacket and denim vest. Dark olive green, a touch too tight in the chest, collar worn out just enough so that the ends of his collar bones peeked through. 

“We have all day, right?�� you smirk. 

“All day,” he nods, “You a walking through the aisles type of girl?” 

“Is that a deal breaker?” you ask, attention captivated by a lavender ceramic pencil holder in the shape of a rainbow. 

“No, not at all,” he assures, taking you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’m a walking through the aisles type of guy.” 

“Was I looking a little too good while perusing the five dollar shelf?” you tease while you move onward into the store, stopping to thumb through a rack of jeans.

“Well that’s the thing,” he says with a tilt of his head, “You’re always lookin’ a little too good.” 

He hums when you roll your eyes, “Hmm. How’d I know that was coming?” 

“Why’re you so nice to me all the time, huh?” you fake argue, bored with looking at clothes and taking deliberate steps towards home goods to the bath section. Eddie hurries to keep up, basket clicking and clacking in his hand. 

“I guess I can be mean to you, but I feel like that would make me a shitty date,” he jokes back, “And an even worse Uber driver.” 

“So true, actually. Zero stars,” you nod, running your hand over a towel that matches the color of his shirt, “Y’know green’s a really good color for you? Makes your eyes pop.” 

“Oh…” he can feel himself turning red when you say that. So she’s been looking at my eyes? Is she always secretly sort of checking me out the way I’m always secretly sort of checking her out? Does she think I’m cute or something? Why am I trying to propose to her right now? Is it ‘cause we’re looking at towels? 

“Um, thank you. I’ll um, I’ll wear it more often,” he runs a hand over his face while you continue to look at towels, turning the corner to look at the fancier ones. You laugh at his jittery response, not so much at him, not teasing, but – this guy covered in tattoos, stomping in combat boots, definitely has a knife in his back pocket, chains dangling down the side of his pants, is blushing bright red just because you said he looks good in green. This guy? 

“You should,” you encourage, turning to see his reddened face, “What happened to not being nervous?” 

“That’s a rule for you,” he says, walking a few steps ahead of you. His eyes catch on a soap dispenser, it’s the same one he had in the master bathroom back with Chris, “I can be as nervous as I want.” 

“Ah, I see, rules for thee, not for me,” you nod slowly. 

“See! Now you’re getting it,” he says over his shoulder. He reaches his free hand back toward you, eyes meeting yours, tossing you a smile when you look at his hand and back at him, “Yeah, I want you to hold it.” 

When your fingers slide in to lace with his he realizes his hands are a little sweaty. They weren’t last time you saw him, with your hand cradled in between his on his knee at the bar. He was a couple drinks in then, not forced to face the action fully. Not aware enough to realize he was holding a pretty girl’s hand in public on a domestic date and all he can think about is railing you in the backseat of his Honda Civic and also making a mental note of all the color choices you like so when you eventually move in together he already knows what you — Jesus fucking Christ you have soft hands. You guide him through the rest of the bathroom section, stopping briefly to consider whether or not you need more hand towels for your apartment and then shaking it off. He let’s you take him around the corner to mattress covers, you talk about your Casper mattress and how you still aren’t sure if you really like it two years later. He hears himself respond in a fog but he’s caught up on how right it feels to be here with you, to be holding your hand, holding your Target basket for you, listening to you talk about whatever. 

You get to bedding and stop at the throws, Eddie’s fog lifts when you let go of his hand to take one of them off the shelf. A dark green knitted blanket replaces his hand, folded up neat and tidy in its wrap-around casing. 

“This is so perfect for my living room,” you murmur to yourself, “It’s so cute.” 

Eddie leans against the shelf while you let your senses absorb the knit: touch, sight, smell. You peer at the other colors, unhappy with the rest, balancing the blanket on your hip while you look back at the empty spot where it once sat. Your eyes roll again, shoulders slumping for real this time.

“Not seventy five dollars cute,” you grumble, putting the blanket back on the shelf. 

“Seventy five dollars?” he asks, aghast, brown eyes rounding in surprise, “What, did they shear the sheep here or something?” 

“That’s capitalism for ya,” you click your tongue, giving the blanket one last look with a little pout, “Oh well, I’m sure I can find a dupe or something at TJ Maxx.” 

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he consoles, taking your hand back and giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Sweetheart…” you repeat back, “That’s cute.” 

“That’s cute? Okay,” he smiles down at the tile under his feet, teeth showing, “I’ll keep note of that.” 

You both continue your journey through bedding, crossing through the Hearth & Hand showcase where he listens to you gripe about how you swear it’s a scam. None of this shit should be this expensive. Like, I could get all this shit at H&M Home online for twenty dollars less. What, just cause they’re on TV? Frickin’ ridiculous. He still stands by thinking that you’re cute when you’re mad. He can’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t even care that you’re both so far from travel toiletries, that you likely forgot why you were even here. He just likes this, being in Target with you, holding your hand while you yell about something. 

“Oh, hold on, I gotta look at these,” you squeeze his hand before you let go again, walking ahead of him while Matchbox Twenty’s 3AM fades into Des’ree’s You Gotta Be. 

“Decorative wicker baskets?” he asks, stepping back to look at the wall of wicker baskets of all sizes in the back of the store. 

“I need two for under my dresser,” you say, reaching up to grab one and looking at the tag for the dimensions, “S’for my socks and stuff.” 

He tosses you a look and you look back at him, “Don’t ask.” 

You get lost in the task, two stepping with a little sway to your hips, small movements. You sing along to the song while you pull one basket down and put it back, and so on. You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. You aren’t mocking him when you sing along but the lyrics feel like they are. You’re so into it, too. He guesses this is what you’re like when no one’s around to watch you. How unfortunate that you’re so kissable even when you think no one is around to see it. 

“Hey,” he says, putting the basket down, “What did I say about looking too good?” 

“What?” you turn around, eyes rounded, almost startled, “Am I taking too long?”

“No,” he says with a furrow of his brow, approaching you gently while he crosses into your personal space. His voice drops a little lower, lips lingering close to yours, “No baby, not at all. Just looking really cute over here.” 

You can’t help but feel girlish when he’s like this, giggling while heat floods your cheeks and chest. 

“C’mere,” he whispers, pressing you back with his body so you’re flush with the shelves against the wall. His nose brushes yours, fingers finding your chin to tilt you up toward him where his mouth can taste you and you can taste him. He starts slow, just a test, shrouded in the lower light of the back decorative basket aisle, lips parting slightly to see if you’ll match it. He puffs a small breath against the ridge of your upper lip and it’s enough to send you into a frenzy. His body presses close up against you, kiss gaining fervor, hands coming up to cup around your cheek and neck to guide you with him

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, breaking away, “We’re gonna get in trouble.” 

“You think I’m scared of getting in trouble?” he clicks his tongue before grinning at you. Looks like you don’t do trouble. His lips ghost over yours, skating softly over your cheek to get to your ear, “I’ve been gettin’ kicked out of Targets since 2007, sweetheart.” 

His teeth graze your ear lobe, your hands reaching to clutch the soft leather of his jacket, a small sigh puffs out of you. He’s not sure if it’s pushing it, but the aisle is empty, and whatever he’s doing, he’s pretty sure you like it – his lips drop from your earlobe to the edge of your jaw, settling on a slow, wet open mouth kiss on your neck before meeting your mouth again. 

“Ed,” you mumble quietly, “I can’t be turned on at Target.” 

“Yes you can,” he giggles, stealing another gentle kiss from you. 

“Uh…hey folks,” a timid voice calls from the end of the aisle. You both break away, embarrassment clearly taking you over while you cover your face in your hands. A younger guy in a red t-shirt and khaki slacks waves awkwardly when he has both of your attention. 

“Sorry to uh, to interrupt but, um – y’know, this is a family friendly store and we just – yeah, I’m sorry. You’re not in trouble or anything,” he offers, stumbling over his words. 

“Thanks man,” Eddie says genuinely, giving him a wave back, “Sorry about that, just uh, caught up in the moment I guess. Baskets really do it for her, y’know?” 

The guy nods, walking away when a small thwap of the back of your hand hits his chest. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you laugh, changing your voice to mock him, “Baskets really do it for her. Fuck all the way off.” 

Eddie laughs with you, picking up the Target basket and placing it in your hand, “Look, I gotta pee so bad. Do you think you can man the aisles yourself while I go and take care of that?” 

You nod, “Just text me when you’re done and I’ll tell you where I am, okay?” 

“Cool,” he nods back, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, “See you in a bit.” 

hey, where are you at? easter stuff, i got distracted  very godly of you

He bustles through the aisles, realizing now that you’re on the totally opposite side of the store than you were before. He spots you where all the candy is, your basket full of your toiletries.  “Easter candy?” he asks. 

“It’s the best holiday candy, easily,” you confess, “I know people will probably say Halloween since that’s the candy holiday, but dude, there’s something about Cadbury eggs.” 

“Yeah?” he reaches out and takes the basket out of your hand gently, you don’t protest when he does, “Isn’t it supposed to be from the UK? Don’t they have better chocolate by proxy?” 

“I think so,” you agree while Eddie strolls a little further down the aisle, “Have you ever had them?” 

“I’m sure I have,” he says, fingers tracing over a chocolate bunny in a box, “I guess I’m more of a Halloween guy.” 

“Boring,” you sing, holding two small bags of Cadbury eggs in your hands. Eddie holds the basket in front of him while you gear up to toss one in. 

“Kobe!” you shout, the candy leaving your fingers in a lay up toss, floating through the air only to fall at Eddie’s feet on the tile. 

“Too soon,” Eddie shakes his head solemnly, reaching down to grab the chocolate and put it in the red basket in his arm, “How’re you gonna call out a legend’s name and then miss?” 

“I feel like you moved it so that I’d miss,” you accuse playfully. 

“I kept it exactly where it was, I think you’re just not very good at basketball,” he says, making his way towards you. You put the other bag in with the rest of your stuff and look up at him through half lidded eyes. He matches your gaze while he looks at you. 

“You just don’t wanna see me be great,” you tease. 

“Oh, stop,” he tutts, “You’re very great.” 

Neither of you can help but kiss again. It feels natural to do it at this point. 

“You get everything you need to get?” he asks against your lips. You nod, a little ‘mhm’ squeaks out of your throat, “Good, cause they can’t yell at us for making out in the parking lot. So we should head out of here soon.” 

The remainder of the errands and lunch go by like a blur to him. Saturday meant busy restaurants so instead you opted for fast food in the parking lot, starting the drive home sharing Wendy’s waffle fries over the center console. 

Before you pull out of the lot, he flicks your music on again, opting to just leave it on shuffle because he feels like he learns you better that way. What’s going to come up next that’ll surprise him? What’s he gonna find out about you? 

‘Baby, I know you’re hurting, Right now you feel like you could never love again. Now all I ask, is for a chance, to prove, That I love you.’ 

Eddie barks out a laugh, takes a sip of his Sprite, and then laughs again, “Oh shit. I haven’t heard this song in years!”

“You know this song, too?” you ask, surprised again at his music repertoire. 

“You really don’t think I’m cultured, do you?” he jokes, “I have a deep affinity for the Backstreet Boys, though I will admit I was an NSYNC boy myself growing up.”

“Of course,” you murmur with an eye roll, “What’s your favorite NSYNC song?” 

“Ooh, let me see,” he thinks while he turns onto the highway, “Definitely Drive Myself Crazy. I’d always try to hit JC’s runs.”

“You knew their names too?” 

“I told you already, I grew up in a trailer park. I had the same babysitter from two to eleven,” he explains, “Mrs. Grandy watched me until her daughter Summer turned thirteen and then I’d go and pal around with her and her friends. I was like her little brother, I practically lived there.” 

“Were you always there?” you ask, “At your babysitter’s house?” 

“Yeah. My uh, my mom died when I was seven but she was always working and tryna stay out of the house when my dad came home so I was always at the sitters. He’s y’know – he’s in jail but he was in and out of it when I was a kid, too. Got arrested for beating on her a couple months before she died and my uncle moved up from North Carolina to take care of me. But he worked nights so – if I wasn’t at school I had to have someone watch me while he slept and then someone had to be at the trailer while I slept. It was way easier when I was in school – but anyway – wow – off topic there – yes, I spent a lot of time with my babysitter and her mom,” he finishes.  

“I’m sorry,” you offer, reaching over to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“No, don’t be. It’s okay. I’m okay – I turned out pretty cool, I think,” he shrugs.

“You’re really cool,” you smile, Eddie smiles back. 

“What’s your favorite Backstreet Boys song?” he asks. 

“Hey Mr. DJ, easy,” you tell him, “It’s the most fucknasty song they’ve ever made and it still holds up. Like, I want it played at my wedding. I’m trying to make a child to that song.” 

Eddie loses it at fucknasty, head falling back on the headrest while his chest bounces, “The most fucknasty song? We’ll have to play that next.” 

“You won’t be disappointed,” you say, “AJ sings it and he was my favorite.” 

“Oh, baby, that does not surprise me at all,” he grins. Calling you baby sounds comfortable now, even after just talking for a week. He’s not sure how fast or slow these things are supposed to go, but your little smile every time he says it makes him wanna say it more. 

“I saw them in concert, when I was like, nine or ten or something,” Eddie says, “For their Millenium Tour – was when I Want It That Way was huge.” 

“You got tickets?” you ask, a teasing grin splitting your face. 

“Summer was a huge Backstreet Boys and NYSNC fan, like, posters all over her room. Had every magazine they were in that she could find, everything. So all we would do when she would watch me was listen to them and talk about them, so I liked them because she liked them and I thought she was cool,” he starts. 

“So anyway, she finds out on the radio that they’re giving away tickets to a show in Columbus – cause like, no one fucking comes to Indiana to play shows – and she calls in and wins! She literally went into shock. But we ended up going and she brought me instead of her friend because she was like ‘Mom, he’s family’. Which as an adult, makes me fucking melt y’know? But as a kid I was like ‘Damn you’re gonna drag me to Ohio to see a boy band? I wanna see Tool.’”

“Not Tool!” you laugh.  

“But it was cool cause we got to stay in a hotel for a night and all that other shit. It felt really special, her mom got us t-shirts which I’m sure cost her a fortune but – damn. I had a lot of fun.” 

“It sounds like you did.”

“The most crazy thing though – which I’ve never told anyone so, I hope you feel special – was when I saw them perform, I thought like, ‘Wow, I wanna do this when I grow up.’ So in a way, if it wasn’t for the Backstreet Boys, I would’ve never realized I wanted to be a rockstar,” he confesses, “And I mean, obviously I was really into rock, and metal, and folk-punk stuff ‘cause of Wayne, but seeing those guys on stage? Everyone screaming? I was like ‘Damn, I wanna be up there! I wanna be shredding up there!’” 

“I love that,” you reply, a warm smile spread across your face while you watch him relive the memory in his head. 

He shrugs, “It was a cool dream to have but, I don’t know. That ship has long sailed.” 

“What do you mean? Long sailed? You can still be a rockstar,” you argue, a fry crunching soft between your teeth. 

He shakes his head, slight defeat caressing his tone, “No I can’t. I’m too old now.” 

“Too old? Shut up,” you assert through a mouthful of waffle fry, “Metallica’s still out there playing. Iron Maiden is literally on tour right now. And they’re all like – in their sixties for fuck’s sake.” 

“Okay?” he huffs back, the red from the hazard lights of the car in front of you flashes against his face, “And? They all got famous when they were like, twenty or younger. I’m fucking…thirty-two.” 

“Exactly! You’re only thirty-two,” you exclaim while he rolls to a stop at a red light. Your hand reaches out to squeeze his arm, “You have so much time. You can literally be a rockstar whenever.” 

Eddie’s chest gets tight when you say that – it had been a while since he heard that type of encouragement. He’d missed the feeling of someone cheering him on from the bar while he was on stage, Chrissy’s praise when they’d get home. Wayne calling to tell him he saw a review of their set in the paper. Lately the shows felt sad to him, he felt lonely, even though he was always the happiest when he could make it on that stage. 

“You can’t be saying shit like that to me,” he says knowingly, maneuvering his arm so that he can take your hand in his. 

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a hint of sullenness that breaks his heart. He kisses your knuckles before resting his and your hand on your thigh, the light changing to green. 

“‘Cause you’re gonna make me fall in love with you.” Your eyes cast down at his hand on your thigh, your smile tight, stretching painfully across your cheeks, “Oh, okay. I’ll be meaner if that’s not what you’re going for.” 

“It’s definitely what I’m going for,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. 

The mood in the car shifts to comfortable silence, I’ll Never Break Your Heart fading out into the opening croons of Leon Bridges’ Coming Home. You lean your head on the window, looking at the cars passing you on the highway, the light flecks of rain hitting the glass as the car keeps its speed. Eddie lets go of your hand, palm stretching over the mass of your thigh, running soothingly up and down on your leggings. His thumb rubs soft and slow over the outside of your quad, he just wants to touch you. It’s a comforting touch, no implications other than – I like being here with you right now. 

‘The world leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, girl. You're the only one that I want, Wanna be around. Wanna be around, girl, Wanna be around, girl, Ooh, wanna be around, girl...’

“I like this,” Eddie says, his voice soft, “Who is this?” 

“Leon Bridges,” you answer, “The whole album is so good. It honestly sounds even better on vinyl.” 

“I was just about to say, I bet it sounds great on vinyl,” he enthuses, “I like the old timey vibe.” 

“It’s cozy, right?” you ask. 

“Very cozy,” he nods, tossing a look over to you. Your eyes are heavy lidded, breath steady in your chest,  “You gettin’ sleepy?” 

“Kinda,” you yawn, “You’re not boring me or anything, I promise.” 

“That’s okay,” he offers you a soft pat on the thigh, returning back to the slow back and forth that was putting you to sleep, “We’ll be home soon-ish, just take a nap.” 

You frown, “You sure? Am I being lame?” 

“Nah, you’re not being lame,” he assures. Your eyes flutter closed, the warm cascade of his hand continues while they do. 

After a long stretch of highway, Eddie turns the car into your part of town, a sadness washing over him that he has to drop you off and then go home to his apartment for the remainder of this rainy evening. For a flicker of a moment he wants to be selfish and ask if you wanna just kick it at his house, but he knows you have stuff to do before this trip. Envy seeps into his sadness that your boss gets to spend so much time with you, gets to watch you laugh, gets to watch you solve problems, gets to watch you do anything all day. Is it healthy to feel like this so quickly? I don’t know her like that, he wonders, Is it that sort of thing where like, if you know you know? Or am I being kind of insane right now? 

“What’d I miss?” you ask, rising from your mini-nap in the car. You frown when you see your surroundings, so much closer to home than you hoped. 

“A few showtunes and Mariah’s Vision of Love,” he says, your sleepy voice tugging on his heart and lips, “I’m partial to My All but that’s cause I’m a professional sad boy.” 

“My All is on there, but it’s probably good I was out for Vision of Love – you didn’t have to hear me screlting it in the small confines of this car,” you laugh.

“Do you sing?” he asks. You shake your head no. 

“I did musicals in high school, as you can see by the showtunes,” you explain, “But I wouldn’t call myself much of a singer.” 

“I’m sure I’ll find out if that’s true sooner or later,” he offers. It’s part way through Good Charlotte’s Girls & Boys, volume low so he didn’t disturb you sleeping. 

“This song makes me laugh,” you say, he feels your hand find his, still sitting firm on your lap. You play with his rings, twirling them around his fingers, he swallows hard. 

“Like, so many songs that came out around this time, even a couple years after – now they just sound like women’s empowerment.” 

“Tell me more,” he says, turning onto your street, the ache creeping back up again. 

“Like, ‘Girls don’t like boys, girls like cars and money.’ Is that supposed to be a dig? Of course I like cars and money – I’m a person. ‘Paper or plastic, don’t matter, she’ll have it.’ Like it’s a bad thing! Sounds like she’s thriving, he’s paying for everything and she didn’t even ask him to, she’s just sitting there looking hot!” you continue, “Sounds like a dream to be honest!”

“Yeah!” he nods, mulling it over in his head, “Fuckin’ – good for her!” 

“I’m happy for her!” you laugh, he laughs with you. It’s nice to laugh so much with you, he likes that you’re sort of goofy in your own right. He pulls up to your house, pulling in to park in front of the walk way. Both of your laughs quiet down, you both look at the house through your window and the air in the car changes. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you frown, shoulders slumping, “I wanna keep hanging out.” 

“I know,” he says gently, “I wanna keep hanging out, too – but you got stuff you need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know,” you scrunch your nose, “So stupid.” 

“So stupid,” he agrees, “How dumb that you have to go to a really cool expo where the weather’s nice.” “Well when you put it like that,” you say with a tilt of your head and a smile. 

“Let me get your stuff out of the trunk,” he offers, getting out of the car into the smattering of rain. He pops the trunk and grabs your bags, coming over to your side to open your door for you. 

“Here,” he says, offering you your toiletries, Old Navy exchange (and a few other purchases), and a Sephora bag with definitely more than just your boss’s sunscreen in it. You thank him and lean in for a kiss but he grins, turning away from you to go back to the trunk, “Sorry, forgot a bag.” 

He reappears with the trunk closes, another Target bag in his hands that he passes to you. The weight reveals what it is before you look, but you peek to be sure, “Ed…”

“I didn’t really have to pee,” he confesses, “You just really liked it and you looked so sad when you put it back so, you know, I just wanted to do something nice.” 

“It’s really nice,” you smile, looking down at the green Casaluna blanket nestled in the bag, “I just don’t want to like…feel like I owe you something.” 

“No, no, no,” he hurriedly shakes his head, “Please don’t feel like that. This really was just like – it’s not like a power move or anything I’m not like that, I promise – I don’t want anything in return, seriously.” 

“Except maybe a picture when it’s all set up nice in your living room,” he grins. Your eye rolls make his heart flutter because so far, you always kiss him after you do it and this time is no exception. 

“I’ll see you when I come back,” you say, wincing as the rain starts to pick up. “You act like you’re going to war, sugar,” he teases, “Like you’re not gonna text me in five minutes.” 

“Ew, bye,” you scowl, giving him a peck before hustling up the walkway to find refuge on the covered porch. 

“Bye,” he calls out, bottom lip tucking between his teeth in the afterglow of another good date. He gets back in the car and waits for you to get in safely before driving away towards his own apartment. At a red light, his phone goes off, just five minutes since he’s pulled away. He opens his texts, a full belly laugh barking from his mouth.  it looks great in my living room. oh shit it’s only been five minutes. 😡 fuck you. 

By day two of your trip, Eddie was already homesick for you. Savoring every message you could send his way when you weren’t busy, but also trying his best not to text you back immediately so he didn’t seem needy. Or worse, desperate. He liked it the most when you’d send pictures: big pink quartz bathtubs, amethyst arm chairs, huge chunks of malachite that were the size of his hand. 

these would make cool dice for d&d, right? the coolest. you should buy that and then hand carve the dice for me. let me pull a grand out of my ass real quick so i can get to work on that. so needy.   oh, so you miss me?  of course i do :) i miss you, too :) 

“So when’re we gonna meet your mystery girlfriend?” Robin asks, swirling her rum and coke with her straw, “Or does she go to a different school in Canada that we wouldn’t know about?” 

Steve snickers with Robin, two mean girls who always mean girl together. It was a Tuesday, which meant Robin and Steve would meet up for Happy Hour at a bar near Nancy’s office for the paper and then bother everyone else to come meet them until everyone showed up. The three sat at the corner of the bar, Steve in the center in his business casual. Patagonia vest over his blue button up, hair perfectly windswept with his sunglasses tucked into his t-shirt collar. Picture perfect finance bro with his mean lesbian guard dog to bark at any woman who might hurt his feelings. Eddie was convinced that if Robin wasn’t gay, they would’ve gotten married the day that they met. 

“Well she’s not my girlfriend yet, for one,” Eddie starts, defensively, “And if you wanna know if she’s real, here’s her Instagram.” 

He passes his phone to Robin who swipes through your photos with a nod, a smile pulling across her face, “Not bad at all, Munson.” 

“Let me see,” Steve demands with a slight whine, plucking the phone from her hand. He scrolls, a touch of a salacious smirk spreading across his face, “Oh, smash. Immediately smash.” Steve passes Eddie’s phone back to him on the table, screen open to a risque picture of you on the beach, “You didn’t fuck?” 

“Not yet, Harrington,” Eddie sighs, “I’ll be sure to let you know the moment I slip it in, okay?” 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugs, “I would’ve fucked her already.” 

“Yeah, we know loverboy,” Robin teases. Eddie’s shoulders tense a little because if Steve wanted you, he’d definitely be able to take you. He’s hot and charismatic, he has more money than he knows what to do with, and at the end of the day – Steve loves women. All kinds of women. Eddie swore Steve would leave college with a taste for thin blondes that were in his frat’s sister sorority but every night it was someone new. And every night, Steve Harrington got what Steve Harrington wanted. 

“Tell her to follow me,” Steve winks. 

“It’s the first thing I did when I met her, actually – told her to follow you,” Eddie jokes back. 

what’re you doing? happy hour with the group. well right now just rob and steve but everyone else is on the way. fun! i bought a new bathing suit at a vendor because i have bad impulse control. also look at these cool rocks. oh, sick – what kind are they? the vendor said they’re ocean jasper do you want one? will you get a matching one with me? also linger is playing at the bar right now and it’s…making me think about you? stupid as hell. absolutely will get us matching ones. i love that song. who said you could be this cute? pretty sure i did. steve says hi by the way, he’s ‘linger’ing over my shoulder. lmao you’re so corny “Is she gonna send you a picture of her in the bathing suit or not?” he asks impatiently. “She’s still working, man,” Eddie flips his phone over so the screen can’t be seen, “And even if she does, I’m not gonna show it to you.” “Yeah, don’t be such a perv Steve,” Robin sasses, “Get me another rum and coke instead.” 

After an hour, the rest of the group has made it and Eddie’s had three beers in a short span of time. Not enough alcohol to feel drunk, but enough alcohol that he keeps getting lost in the thought of your thighs on that barstool last week. The little overflow of your tummy in your jeans, your hips, what you might look like out of those jeans. What sounds you might’ve made if he went to your house after Target and he peeled those leggings off you. You’re busy and he’s bummed out about it only because he selfishly wishes you were here at happy hour instead of looking at cool rocks. “You look so sad right now,” Tatianna says from across the table the group has gathered round, “You miss your girl?” 

Eddie pouts dramatically, nodding, “I do.” “Guys this is the one, I’ve never seen him like this before,” Tatianna grins, “He’s down bad.” 

Tati reaches next to her to hold hands with Gareth giving it a squeeze, “Hinge is the truth, I’m telling you.” 

“I mean, you sure? He thought Chris was the one and look how that turned out,” Mike says from the other end. Everyone sighs and groans, whines of ‘C’mon Wheeler,’ sound out of a few of them. 

“When you know, you know, kid,” Gareth offers softly, “And I think Ed knows.” 

“When’re we gonna meet this girl who likes your nerdy ass?” Erica giggles next to him. “Exactly what I was saying earlier,” Steve adds. 

“I don’t think you need to meet her, Steve,” Dustin laughs, “Let him have something, for God’s sake.”  “Well,” Nancy starts, “I mean, Steve’s party at Barcade is next week. Might be a good sort of low stakes way to ease her in.” 

“That’s actually such a good idea,” Tatianna agrees. 

“But I have the jazz concert for my kids that night,” Eddie sulks. 

“Yeah but that ends at like, eight thirty,” she argues, “You should tell her to come. We’ll take care of her before you show up.”  “I’ll take realgood care of her, Munson,” Steve grins.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s head is down on his forearms so he doesn’t know how many people started scolding Harrington over his head. This was overwhelming again – this part. Eddie thought maybe all the fussing over starting to date would be the worst but now it’s every day that they ask about you. At least twice a day in the group chat – Your girl coming to D&D? How was your date last weekend? Is she with you right now? Tell her we all said hi. Are you gonna bring her to Tati’s art show?

He doesn’t have all the answers yet and he doesn’t know where you’re at either. Do you want to meet his friends? Would you even like them?

Everyone yelling at Steve is satisfying, but it would be cooler if you were here to see it.  

The following night he was up late grading papers he should’ve graded a week ago but he was too caught up in his personal life to care. Conversation with you had dwindled quickly last night as he spent more time at the bar and ended up planning the next campaign. You hadn’t reached out at all today and he felt too proud to be the one to text you first, a twinge of resentment plucking at his heart strings in his chest. Hollow loneliness drumming at his ribcage. 

The papers were graded, neatly stacked and put away in his bag for tomorrow, red pen capped and put back on his desk. Eddie groans as he stands up to stretch, peeling off his t-shirt and slipping off his sweatpants, tossing them haphazardly in the corner of the room by his hamper. He kicks off his socks, finally comfortable in his boxers and silver chain, before trudging down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back to a quiet buzz on his phone, screen glowing to life while he swipes it off his dresser. 

hey, sorry i was so MIA today. things got really busy and hectic, surprise zoom meeting with bloomingdale’s and then a second surprise offer call with bergdorf goodman and then a few vendors wanted to get dinner and schmooze. it’s no excuse honestly but i should’ve messaged you to let you know i was busy. i’m sorry, handsome :( thought about you all day if that helps 

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest, cheeks already hurting from the smile splitting his face open. You thought about him all day. You thought about him all day. The same way he thinks about you all day. He climbs into bed, snuggling in under the covers with the glow of his phone illuminating his grinning face in the dark. 

don’t apologize, sweetheart, i know you’re busy. glad that your hectic day is over at least, now you can relax! thought about you all day, too. one of my kids kept trying to play juicy by doja cat on the sax at jazz practice, so you came to mind immediately. LMAO. i’ll take that as a compliment. what’re you doing up so late?  grading papers, but i’m done now. i’d ask why you’re up so late but it’s only nine thirty there. what’re you up to? trying this bathing suit on, finally. do you wanna see it?

“Do I wanna see it?” he murmurs, exasperated with an eye roll to no one, “Of course I wanna see it.” 

yeah, show me :) 

He waits with bated breath, trying his best to swipe out of the text conversation and do something else instead of counting the minutes until you reply. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits for the familiar buzz in his hand. 

And there you are, dark red spandex hugging you tight, cinching you in all the right places. His eyes linger on the high cut of the bottom, the way some of the pudge of your hips pokes out at the seams and he bites his lip. ‘Fuck,’ he mumbles quietly. Your thighs on full display for him, thick and begging for him to grab, you’re so fucking grabbable he can’t even stand it. 

jfc you know what you’re doing  whaaaaat? what do you mean?  ‘what do you meaaaannn 🤪’ you know what i mean.  do you not like it?  i like it a little too much  you wanna see it from the back? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters into the darkness. He feels the blood rush to his pelvis like an army command, cock partially at attention while his hand palms delicately over his boxers. 

of course i do 

He gulps when the picture comes in, you posed like that on purpose. One ass cheek propped up on the bathroom counter, the other lifted and perky from your stance. The soft rolls of your back on display from how you’re turned to still have your pretty face in frame. He’d fucking wreck you. Lovingly, of course.

do you want me to hop on a flight or?? how much are tickets to az? i’m about to come thru.  you got enough blood in your brain to make that trip rn?  lmao you know i don’t 😏 sorry i’m all the way in a different state, i’d help take care of it. 

“Yeah?” he chokes out, palming turning to full slow strokes over the fabric, “You wanna take care of it for me?” 

yeah? you’d take care of it?  only if you asked nicely :) 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tossing his phone down to reach for his side table drawer to reach for the tiny bottle of lube he kept there. He tugs down his boxers hastily, squirting some of the liquid in his palm before picking up the phone again with his clean hand. 

i’d ask very nicely. i’d even say please.  what a good boy. :) 

“M’such a good boy,” he huffs, hand wrapping tightly around the base of his cock and dragging upwards, “I’ll be so good for you.” 

would you want me to use my hands or my mouth? 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groans, brain short circuiting at the thought of you on your knees while he stands over you. Eyes looking up at him with a hand tangled up in your hair, desperately trying to not thrust deep into your throat while you go to work on him. He bites his lip while he fucks his fist, palm and fingers gliding in time with his foreskin, teasing his tip. A fire lights in his belly, cooking up thoughts in his head on how he’d want you first. 

i like the idea of keeping your mouth full  oh you wanna shut me up? is that it?  i don’t think it takes much. 

His head leans back on the wall behind his bed, eyes closing while his hips roll up to meet the speed of his hand, slower now to stave it off. 

“Yeah, suck it just like that…” he hums out, “Please more.” His brows pinch while he looks back at the picture you sent, your glossed lips gleaming back at him. They’d look so good around his cock, your eyes would look so good filled up with tears when you tried to deep throat him.

“T-take all of it,” he stammers out, unsure of his own dirty talk to himself. Would he actually say that? 

Bzz. Bzz.

oh yeah cause you’re soooo big 🙄

“Psh,” he hisses out with a roll of the eyes, hand lifting off his cock to type back. He guesses when it comes to you, he would say that. Just so you’d stop being such a brat. 

you’re gonna feel so stupid when you see it  you sound very confident  because i am  is it big? 

He looks down at himself confidently, laying fat and dense up his stomach, kicking up at the thought of you seeing it for the first time. Chrissy always gawked at it, despite how many times she’d seen it, it was always like she was seeing it for the first time. The girls he’d pull into the bathroom at The Hideout and other bars would whine at the sight. Both him and them slurring together about how they can make it fit. 

its big, sweetheart. but i think you can take it.  i know i can take it.  so sure of yourself tonight, huh? bet you wouldn’t be so cocky if you were here.  so i could watch you jerk it in your bedroom? puhlease. 🙄 i can tell by how you’re talking that you really like the idea of that.  so you are jerking it in your bedroom?  the same way i know you have your fingers between your pretty thighs

He doesn’t know that, but it was worth the shot. His mind reels, thinking of you barely changing out of your swimsuit into nothing to lay back on your hotel bed to touch yourself to him talking to you. He grunts when his hand wraps around his length again, fisting himself with more intention, thinking about your hips writhing in time with his. He wishes he knew how you sounded when you felt good, how you’ll sound when he makes you feel good. And god does he wanna make you feel good. 

🙈 stop  yeah? i can stop.  don’t actually, i’m just embarrassed 😩 how come?  cause i do have my fingers between my thighs 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he groans into a whimper. He shudders a gasp while his hips buck up to meet his hands thrusts, imagining you on top of him, under him, below him, above him. Mouth, hands, pussy, anything of yours bobbing over his cock. Wiping the images clean and starting over with you splayed out on the hotel bed again, trying to keep quiet so your boss won’t hear you through the hotel’s thin walls. 

does it feel good, sweetheart?  it would feel better if you were doing it for me.  can i call you?

“Can I call you?” he reads out loud, in a whisper, “Can I…call you…” 

absolutely. 

Your face pops up on his phone within the minute, phone buzzing rhythmically in his hands. His heart rate jerks alive, stomach dropping like he’s on a roller coaster while it continues to ring. 

He accepts, swallowing thickly as he does. 

“Hey there,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” your voice is shaky on the other end, he holds back a moan. 

“Hi,” he says back to you, squeezing himself softly at the base again. 

“Do you wanna hear something embarrassing?” you laugh, following up with a soft needy sigh. 

“Always,” he swoons out, low and warm. 

“Your voice is so hot to me,” you giggle, “I don’t think I could finish if I didn’t hear it.” 

“Ah, there you go again, thinking your compliments to me are embarrassing,” he smirks. You sigh again and he lets out a heady breath while he strokes himself, teetering towards a climax. 

“Sorry,” you smile, and he can hear it in your voice, “You having a hot voice isn’t embarrassing. Me getting off to it is embarrassing.” 

He pauses, hearing your shallow breaths pick up, waiting for the right time to strike. His thumb trails over his tip to smear the precum oozing out of it over the head — his eyes roll back as he thinks about your tongue there instead. 

“S’not embarrassing,” his eyelids lower, settling deeper into his pillows. He groans low in his chest before speaking again, “You all wet for me, sugar?” 

“Yeah,” you whine to him. 

“Wish I could be there to take care of you,” he huffs, “I’d make you feel so good.”  

“How?” you ask breathily. 

He smirks, biting his lower lip, letting out a low laugh, “I’d take my time with you. Sounds like you get real needy.” 

“I’m not needy,” you protest. 

“Not needy, but calls me from the other side of the country to cum to my voice?” he argues playfully, “Oh yeah, not needy at all, baby.” 

You whine again, a few huffs of breath sound in the receiver. 

“You like that?” he asks lowly, “When I’m a little mean to you?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Fuck…” he whispers back, blood rushing to the tip, twitching while he works his hand up his shaft.

“Wait – are you actually jacking it right now?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” he sighs back, “Are you surprised?” 

“How long have you been doing it?” 

“Since you sent me that picture with your whole ass out,” he confesses with a giggle, it just makes sense to him to answer honestly. 

“Is that how you wanna fuck me?” your voice is laced with depth and sex, his hips buck up at the sound, “From the back?” 

“Maybe not at first,” he starts, imagining he’s in the hotel with you, eyes locking on yours while you touch yourself. Meeting your pleading eyes with a salacious grin while he pumps his cock, climbing on top of the mattress. Climbing on top of you. 

“I’d probably want you on your back so I could see your pretty face,” he offers, “Watch you take it.” 

You sigh into the receiver again and he groans quietly while pleasure starts taking him over. 

“But if I’m being honest…” he starts again, voice lightly teasing. Your breaths pick up, and if he thinks he’s hearing right, you’re very wet. Just because of him, the way he’s talking to you. He shudders before regaining his composure, voice dropping dangerously low. 

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on that pussy,” he slurs out, drunk on the idea. 

“Mmm, fuck,” you mewl out. Okay Munson, maybe you still know how to do this shit. “Oh, you like the sound of that, huh?” he asks, a light raise to his voice, “You like thinking about me between your legs?” 

“Yes,” you huff through gritted teeth. He feels his orgasm creeping up on him quick, your little whines hitting his ear and gliding down his chest to his pelvis. Every soft puff of your breath feels like he’s the one making it punch out of you. 

“I know you’d take it so good, too. You’d get so messy for me,” he groans again when his palm grazes over the underside of his tip, cock leaking cum unceremoniously, sending shockwaves through his system, “Just like you are right now, hm?  Waiting for me to come over ‘n’ fuck you stupid?” “Please,” you whine into a growl, “Please fuck me stupid.” 

“Oh baby, I will,” he moans while he feels his balls tighten, closer and closer to the edge, hearing you pant and beg like that. Just for him. He grunts, breath huffing from his nose like a bull while his orgasm takes him over, cum shooting onto his belly in thick ropes, “F-fuck till you can’t fuckin – mmmf – can’t fuckin’ think.” “Oh! Oh my god, fuck. Fuck!” you cry out into the receiver. He grins, satisfied at that reaction, both of you taking deep breaths into your mics while you both come down. 

“Did you cum for me, sugar?” he drawls. 

“Mhm,” you squeak out. His grin doesn’t fade, it turns dirty, filthy, “Good girl.” 

“Don’t say that.” He can hear your embarrassed smile in your voice, it makes him laugh. He’s normally not like that, that’s not something he thinks he’s ever said in bed – at least not sober. 

“I won’t say it, I’m sorry. You don’t like that?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“I like it a lot and you’re too far away,” you say softly. 

“Poor thing,” he offers. 

“I am a poor thing!” you exclaim. You quiet down a little, both just listening to each other breathe on the other end, “I’m excited to see you again, when I come back.” 

“I’m excited to see you, too,” he smiles while he speaks softly into the receiver, “But lucky for me, I have these pictures of you to hold me over until then.” 

“Visual learner?” you tease. “Physical, too,” he counters. 

“You really are trouble,” you laugh, “And um – I don’t want you to think that like, the only reason I wanna see you is just to have sex or anything. I just really like spending time with you.” 

“I don’t think that at all,” he assures, “I really, really like spending time with you. I’m – and this is gonna sound super lame – but I’m excited to keep on getting to know you.” 

“Lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” you laugh, “But also, same. We can be lame together.” “Oh – uh, by the way,” Eddie’s voice reverts back to normal while a reminder jolts his body awake, “The group really wants to meet you and I know it’s gonna be the day after you get back and you might want to rest, but Steve’s birthday party is Friday if you wanna come. Totally understand if you’re gonna be too tired.” “Oh no, I’d love that!” he can hear you shifting on the mattress, likely getting ready for bed, “Steve’s the one whose Instagram request I shouldn’t accept, right?” Eddie laughs, “Right.”

You both talk for a little longer before he tells you it’s getting late and you should get some rest since you had such a long day. He doesn’t want to hang up, but you’re both too old to be doing the ‘falling asleep on the phone’ thing. Plus, he had to be up for work in five hours. 

Eddie slides into the seat on his Honda Civic and sighs – he’s tired. He doesn’t want to go to Steve’s party where everyone is gonna be loud and drunk by the time he gets there. He hates playing catch up, but you’re gonna be there so he’s doing his best to hype himself up before he starts the car. He cracks the Monster Energy sitting in his center console and chugs it, heaving a deep breath before starting the car. Mayhem’s Freezing Moon blares through his speakers and he nods to himself, Good, good, good. It would be a hype enough song to get him excited on the way there. He gives himself a once over in the rearview mirror, looking the same as he did when he freshened up in the teacher’s bathroom after the Jazz Club performed during the Spring Concert. His slim fit black slacks still kept their crease, his wallet chains still dangled from his pocket. Eddie took your advice and started wearing more green, a hunter short sleeved linen blend button up laid open and loose over a clean and expensive white t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hot. His hair was coiffed and coiled – he made sure to get a trim before you came back just to touch up the shag. His tattoos were the showiest you’d ever seen them and deeply moisturized, his silver chain and small rings were recently cleaned. 

He wants you to lose your mind when you see him, but when he walks into the bar he knows he already lost. There you are, standing at the bar with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin while they laugh with you at some story you’re telling. You’re all legs in your little black skirt with a cute cropped ‘ARIZONA’ sweatshirt cinching you in right at the waist. Your little white sneakers were shining purple in the black light of the bar, you probably wear these everywhere. 

“Eddie!” Dustin calls out, giving a big wave to call him towards the party. You whip around, beaming while he makes his way over, meeting him part way with a drink in your hand. He can smell your perfume immediately and he’s surprised he hasn’t already fallen to his knees. “Started without me, huh?” he asks, nodding to the drink in your hand. “I tried to get Steve a drink but he said it was a better gift for him to buy me one…or two,” you tell him sheepishly. Eddie catches Steve’s eyes over your shoulder when he pulls you in to say hello and shakes his head. Steve smirks, blowing him a kiss before mouthing, ‘Her ass? Insane.’ putting his hands out to show off the size of it. Eddie flips him off while he lets you go. 

“Everyone’s been really nice though,” you smile, giving him a once over, “You look really good.” 

“Thank you,” he says in your ear, kissing your cheek, “You look too good. Don’t think I can let you stick around here too long.” 

“S’kinda hot when you’re like that,” you grin sloppily, biting your lip. The tequila’s blurring the filter in your head a little, he can tell you’re just saying what comes to mind, eyes a little glassy. 

“Like what?” “A lil’ possessive,” you shrug. He tucks a knuckle under your chin, lifting your gaze toward him for a moment.  “Okay,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss you much more passionately than you expected. Your mouth is cold against his, tongue sliding in to taste the tequila on yours. He snakes one arm around your waist so that you’re chest to chest, both of you laughing against each other’s lips while Tati and the group whoop and holler over your makeout. He breaks away, looking down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“I missed you,” he says confidently. 

“I missed you,” you smile, pulling him tight against you. This was what he was waiting for. An ounce of clinginess so that he didn’t feel so insane for wanting to be close to you all the time. He leads you back over to the bar, hand on your lower back while you put yourself back in your little group. 

“What’re you having tonight, big boy?” Ed asks Steve, clapping him on the back in a brotherly hug. 

“Surprise me – you doing shots?” he asks. Eddie nods, getting the bartender’s attention when she makes his way over. 

“Can I get four shots of Jameson and then two for my buddy over here?” he asks, pointing at Steve with his thumb. The bartender nods, lining up the shot glasses and starting the pour. “I don’t really like Jameson,” you scrunch your nose. 

“Well baby, they’re all for me, so don’t worry about it,” he grins playfully, white teeth shining, “I’ll get you something else when you finish that drink.” 

You nod lazily, pulled into conversation with Robin while Steve and Eddie start taking their shots. The whiskey feels good hitting his throat, burning just enough to reinvigorate him for the rest of the night. He clicks his tongue when he downs them all, the scent of Tatianna’s vanilla perfume overtakes him before her hands cover his eyes from behind. 

“Guess who it is,” she laughs. 

“Someone who used my Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion today,” he answers, his fingers running over hers while he peels her hands away. He turns to her to pull her into a hug and then hugging Gareth behind her, already with their drinks in hand. 

“Look, it went with the fragrance I was wearing today. You used my curl cream again so – you can’t even be mad,” she shrugs, beckoning him over with her hand, “Come sit with us really quick.” 

Eddie turns to get your attention but Tatianna stops him, “She’s a big girl, she’s been doing fine on her own without you here, so far. Let her make friends.” Eddie pouts and Gareth pats him on the back after passing Tati’s drink to her, guiding him over to their booth close by the end of the bar. Eddie sits in the middle of the bench, looking like a kid who just got in trouble and is about to get a stern talking to by his parents. “So…” Eddie starts. 

“I really like her, dude,” Gareth grins, “Came in and immediately knew who we were, introduced herself, offered to get us a round. All around seems very much your vibe.” 

“And you, mom?” he asks, eyes lifting up through his lashes to look at Tatianna who has a smug grin on her face. 

“All I’m saying is that you should always be listening to me when I tell you to do something,” she shrugs, “‘Cause what if you had deleted the app that night? Would’ve never met the love of your life right there.” 

“Love of my life? You think?” he asks, eyes widening. “I know. Her energy is exactly what I thought it was gonna be,” Tatianna explains, gold rings in her twists flashing back the neon reflecting on them, “And you’ve been down bad for the past few weeks so I knew there had to be something about her that was really good.” 

“So you like her?” Eddie grins. 

“We love her,” Tatianna nods, “Consider her adopted.” 

“Steve loves her too, it looks like,” Eddie huffs, looking back over at the bar to see Steve showing you something on his phone, a little too close for comfort. 

“He’s behaving himself, don’t worry,” Dustin says while he slides in next to Eddie, “We all gave him a warning before she got here. Plus, he’s got two girls on his radar right now that he’s trying to take home if he doesn’t get too drunk – but y’know, we’re banking on the getting too drunk part.” 

“Always banking on the getting too drunk part,” Gareth laughs. 

The night continues on, people coming and going, getting up to dance, getting new drinks. He watches you blend in seamlessly, swaying with Tatianna at the bar while you wait for a rum and coke for you and water for him. He still has to drive home after all. 

“What do you know about this song?” Tatianna laughs while Victoria Monet’s Coastin’ booms over the speakers. You both walk back over, two stepping in time until Gareth pulls Tatianna in tight to him, rocking back and forth with each other and stealing kisses. 

Eddie watches you approach him while you lipsync the words playfully, hips swaying in in time with the beat. 

‘Think of the waaaays, The ways I wanna give you this ass, Just how you liiiiike, Feel like a Thursday how I’m throwin’ it back.’ “The ways you wanna give me this ass, huh?” he smirks, eyes flitting over you while he takes the water yor offer him. You keep up with your sway, pressing up close to him – you look up with a fake unamused quirk of your brow and he knows you’re about to say something bitchy that’ll make him fall for you even harder. “I don’t think you could handle it,” you flirt. 

“You know something?” he starts, putting his water on the table of the booth, catching you before you can sit down, “I think I can handle you just fine.” You burn at his words, a shy grin pulling at your lips when he sits down at the edge of the bench next to Nancy and across from Steve and Robin. It’s fun to flirt with you like this, right on the precipice of something a little dirty. He wants you so bad and if he knows women as well as he thinks he does, he knows you want him so bad, too.  He pats his thigh, encouraging you to sit on his lap. You hesitate at first but he nods encouragingly, a silent Please, it’s okay. You settle in, the table high enough that both sets of your thighs fit under the table. He takes a breath before letting his hands settle on your skin, imagining what it might be like when he gets to put his hands on all of it. 

Everyone banking on Steve getting too drunk to take someone home was right, him and Robin were already in their codependent best friend phase of the night where they only want to hang out with each other, hands cupped tight on the table. You’re talking to Robin about a game that’s like Sims but 8-bit – 

“It’s called Unpacking and it’s so cute, you basically unpack a house or a room and you learn more about the person’s story by unpacking their boxes – sort of like Sims but with actual feelings that you don’t have to make up,” you enthuse. 

“Is it on Steam?” she asks, “I’ll literally buy it right now.” 

“We’re partying, Rob, don’t play a dumb game,” Steve whines. 

“She’s not gonna play it right now, Steve,” Nancy chides, “She’s gonna play it later. Don’t worry, we all know tonight is about you.” 

Lucas comes over to the table looking aggravated, Max grinning next to him in a smile that Eddie knows too well. Lucas lost a bet and has to pay up, Eddie wonders what they bet on this time. 

“Why does your Dragon’s Lair score have to be so fucking high? Can you literally let anyone have anything?” Lucas huffs. 

“Don’t be so sad, Sinclair – you can always try to beat Red’s score,” Eddie shrugs, smirking smugly at the pair. 

“She’s 250 points behind you, and you’re both like, seven thousand points ahead of everyone else,” he huffs. 

“What’d’you owe her this time?” he asks. 

“I can’t even tell you out loud,” he sighs. Max cackles, offering her hand and leading him back over to the Party at the bar, fingers laced with each other while they talk. Eddie adjusts under you, groin shifting under your ass by accident but he savors how delicious it feels to have you on top of him like this. 

“Are there any other games in there that you have a high score on?” you ask, breath hitching slightly while his hands coast teasingly over your bare skin under the table. Your posture straightens when his fingers glide up your inner thigh, brushing his fingertips past the hem of your skirt. You like that, he thinks, your body language tells him all he needs to know to keep going. 

“The Dracula pinball machine,” he replies confidently. 

“I’m gonna go beat it,” you grin up at him. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, hand sliding off your thigh when you get up to head to the arcade room,  “You even know how to play?” 

“You can show me,” you shrug. He doesn’t really have to show you, pinball is pretty self explanatory, but he doesn’t want to give up a chance to have you alone. He leads you to the machine, pointing out where you want the ball to hit for the best chance at extra points. The music on the sound system is loud and the machine’s music matches it so he has to get close to your ear to explain. 

“Do you think I don’t really know how to play or do you just wanna get close to me?” you ask, turning your head to look at him while he chin hooks over your shoulder. “You caught me,” he blushes, hand resting on your hip while he fills the gap between your back and his chest, “I’m sure you’re gonna do just fine.” 

And you do, in fact, you’re really fucking good at pinball and he’s almost mad about it. “Where did you learn to do this?” he asks after you rack up nearly three fourths of his high score in one go, the ball just narrowly missing the lever before sinking down to be propelled again. 

“Summers on the boardwalk in New Hampshire,” you grin, “My uncle lives over there so we go visit him every year. Played one pinball machine every summer – my high score still stands, like, eleven years later.” “That’s so hot to me, oh my god,” he laughs while you get the next ball rolling onto the board. You lean forward, hips jutting out against him while you really get into it, concentrating hard. Eddie’s breath hitches when you slowly move your hips against him, so slow that he’s not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not.  Rihanna’s Work starts over the speakers and  that’s when he knows it’s on purpose. Your movement’s pick up a little, lost in the game and in the beat. You’re a good dancer and that makes his mind wander to other things you might be good at. Your fingers work quick on either side of the machine, lights flashes against both of your faces while you keep trying to win and he keeps trying to not pull your skirt up in the middle of Barcade. 

While the song continues, he stops paying attention to you playing, so caught up in how your waist winds and ass bounces against him that he doesn’t realize you aren’t even playing any more. His hips grind slowly back against you, one hand on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to keep you in position. This isn’t new territory for him, pulled into clubs by Tati and Gare, Robin and Steve, everyone else, from the moment things opened back up again in Indiana. When you look back at him he short circuits at first, but he knows you’re surprised he can dance like this. Maybe you forgot, but he does teach Music Theory – rhythm is kind of his whole thing. Of course he has it.  

Your hips roll, making your ass run painstakingly slow and firm over his hardening cock. A groan gets stuck in his throat, reaching out to your shoulder to pull you up right again with your back against his chest. 

“You like bein’ a tease?” he asks, voice deep and daunting. 

“Just getting you back for what you did under the table,” you say matter-of-factly, turning around to face him with your butt leaning against the machine, “You’re not the only one here who knows how to be a slut.” “Also, I beat you,” you grin. 

“Looks like you did,” he says, eyes passing yours to look at the new high score glowing on the outdated screen. 

“Do I win a prize?” 

“M’sure I can think of something,” he murmurs, lips pressing against yours while both of your eyes flutter closed. He takes your hand, leading you to the dark corner close by, both of you hidden by the now defunct change machine to press you up against the wall. “What do you think you deserve?” he purrs before catching your mouth in his again. His kiss is a little sloppy, a little needy, it’s the four shots of Jameson. Not too drunk to drive, but buzzed enough that he doesn’t care about his kissing technique, he just wants to taste you. “Oh, it’s like that?” you giggle mischievously, “I don’t think we can do what I think I deserve in a public place.” 

“Hmm, okay, not into exhibitionism I guess,” he huffs a laugh while his kisses trail to your neck, knee slotting between your legs where you eagerly press up against him. He feels one of your hands fall into his hair, making his assault on the crook of your neck more intense when you give it a slight pull. “Kiss me,” you whine softly. “M’sorry, sorry,” he smirks, meeting your lips again, “You just smell really good, I like being in there.” “You’re a really good –” Kiss. “Mmm--kisser.” “Thanks, sugar, you’re –” Kiss. “Not so bad your –” Kiss. “Mmm shit – yourself.”  He can barely think like this, so close to you but not close enough. Hands on your waist and hips to guide you against part of his thigh while a little whine pulls out of you. He can’t hold off much longer, feeling his pants grow unbearably tight. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against your jaw, a satisfied smile blooms on his face when you roll your hips against his knee again. 

“You don’t wanna hear everyone drunkenly sing Steve happy – oh, mmm – happy birthday?” you pant out while he presses kisses at the curve of your jaw back to your mouth. His hand entwines with the hair at the nape of your neck, giving you a soft tug to keep your head in place. 

“The only thing I wanna hear right now,” he purrs in your ear, “Is what you sound like when I’m making you cum.” 

The ride home is quick, barely saying goodbyes while he pulled you through the crowds building at the bar and paid the tab. Gareth shot him a wink as they left, tossing you both a wave but neither of you could think of anything else except each other. 

He dropped his keys twice trying to get in the door of his first floor apartment, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you smile, “Just breathe. I’m still gonna be here.” 

The door opens and he takes a millisecond to rip your coat off and kick off his shoes, instructing you to kick off your sneakers or Tati would likely emerge from the walls and kill you both for walking into the house with your outside shoes on. His lips immediately attach to yours. There’s no time to waste for him, pulling you over to the couch and plopping down with an excited puff of breath. “C’mere baby,” he beckons you over with two fingers, grinning up at you while you climb over his lap to straddle him. His kiss is searing, hands exploring you with abandon, all the ways he’s been thinking about touching you were now fair play. No one here to see either of you, no one around to interrupt. You can feel how hard he is under his dress pants, the material leaves little to the imagination. The gentle curve of it, its thickness, the length, all pressing up against you with every mutual roll of your hips. 

You choke out a whimper when it hits just right up against your clothed slit. Eddie looks up at you mischievously, greedily sucking on your neck for a moment before catching your gaze a little.

“That’s all it takes? Just pushing my hips up like that?” he purrs, rolling them up again slowly, “Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathe. He bites at the skin on your chest, not hard enough to hurt. He grips and grabs you but not hard enough to bruise. He’s testing the waters, seeing what you like and how you like it. His hands travel down past your hips, gripping the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans into your mouth, exploring you more, his palms flattening against your skirt while it rides up, the curve of your cheeks warm in his hands. 

“Finally got to grab it the way you wanted to?” you tease between breaths. 

“Mhmm,” he groans, “Now I just gotta smack it around.” 

You take his lower lip between your teeth, making his cock twitch when you let it go to click back against his gums. 

“Ooh, you wanna spank me?” you laugh into your next kiss. His hand reaches up to pull at your waist, pushing you tighter up against him. His fingers graze between your legs from behind while your head falls back in a breathy gasp. 

“Do you want me to spank you?” he asks, brows raised inquisitively.  

“Maybe not tonight,” you shrug with a smirk, hips winding over him in a way that makes him really feel you. He growls when you do it, hands guiding your hips to do it again, “Maybe only when I’ve been bad.” 

“Jus’lemme know,” he grumbles, pupils taking over the brown in his eyes, “So I can  — mmm, shit — teach ya a lesson.” 

“Next time,” you huff into his next kiss. He manhandles you so that your back is to the cushions and throw pillows, switching your positions so that he’s on top.

“Next time,” he nods, pulling your sweatshirt off and dropping it to the floor, “But since you’re so good, it only makes sense that you get a reward, right?” 

“I did beat you at pinball, so…” you grin. He grins back, kissing your neck hungrily, slotting his knee between your legs like he did at the bar. 

“You did beat me at pinball,” he nods, a soft growl brewing in his chest when he feels you start to grind against him. Insatiable, he thinks, Greedy girl. But he doesn’t know if he can say that to you yet. He doesn’t know, all the way, what you like. He feels his heart hammer in his chest at the fear of realizing it – you aren’t Chrissy. What if he was only good because Chrissy thought so? What if he wasn’t actually – 

“Oh!” you squeak out, hand reaching out to grip his bicep. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from your neck to look at you, big brown eyes blown with nerves. 

“Y-yeah that’s just…where you’re kissing…that’s a spot for me,” you admit bashfully, unable to look at him. 

“Sweetheart,” he shakes his head with a knowing smirk, “Shouldn’t’ve told me that.” 

A kiss on the lips is his only consolation to you before he goes back to your neck, tongue trailing down to its last spot where he parks his teeth and lips. You like that. He hears you like it. And fucking God is it good to hear you like this, to hear you in person, moaning and whining in his ear just from kissing and sucking this spot on your neck. 

“Eddie…” you breathe, high pitched and desperate, hips still pressing against his knee for friction. He can’t help but go back to your lips, but before he does, he peeks to see the marks he left behind. 

Lips become neck, neck becomes chest, chest becomes stomach, stomach becomes hips, and before you know it he’s on his knees on the rug in front of you. Eddie’s eyes find yours when he’s kneeling between your legs, the center of your thighs looking him in the face. He places a kissing on the inside of your knee, gentle and soft. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but you nearly read his mind, tugging up the hem of your skirt over your thick thighs. He helps, pushing the fabric up over your hips and ass so he gets another chance to touch and feel you. Once he settles back down he takes a breath, smiling up at you while he readjusts your legs to open a little wider, mouth making contact with your skin soon after. His lips capture the fat of your inner thigh, traveling down in passionate kisses, like your skin is divinity that he’s found for the first time. 

“You’re so soft,” he whispers, lips ghosting over your underwear to reach the top of your other knee, planting a kiss there too. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. He lets out a low, teasing giggle at the state of you, head lolling back on the couch while he kisses the inside of one thigh and runs his hand over the outside of the other. His kisses stop and he looks up at you from between your legs, big brown eyes begging you to let him in. A ringed finger teases over the gusset of your underwear, the way you bite your lip gives him the approval to keep going. His slides your panties off, run of the mill black cheeky cut cotton that he wished he could’ve stripped you down to. Just to see that ass swallowing them, to see the way they sat on the curves of your hips. 

“You nervous?” he asks with a smile while your legs close, your underwear placed on the floor next to your shirt.

“A little,” you giggle. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he coos, hands cupping under your knees to spread your legs again, “Just gonna make you feel good.” 

He sighs when your legs open up for him, already wet and puffy, you’d been thinking about this all night. Eddie nips softly at your inner thigh again before he lets his lips linger over your folds. You squirm your hips closer to him, a whine leaking out of your mouth. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, “I won’t tease you, I’m sorry.” 

But he’s lying. Leaning in to get close, only to ghost a breath over your clit. Fingers sliding to your slick lips to separate them slightly for more access to you. He pauses, leaning back away from your pussy and looks up at you quizzically.

“Actually, should I put on Hey Mr. DJ to set the mood? Since it’s so fucknasty…” gesturing his thumb towards the sound system on the other side of the room. You let out a mix of a laugh and a groan while his kisses coast on your thighs again.

“You said you wouldn’t teaaaasssseeee-oh my God,” you moan out when his mouth meets your clit without warning, soft, slow sucks and licks. 

“You like that, sugar?” he asks, voice dropping down to a bassy gravel. 

You nod feverishly, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

“Mmm, don’t stop?” he asks, tongue gliding from your entrance to your clit. 

“Please,” you gasp, hand reaching out to run through his hair, bangs pushing back to reveal the soft lines of his forehead. 

“Well you’re asking so nice, seems a little mean to keep you waiting,” he coos, fingers replacing his mouth while he talks, “But I thought you liked it when I was a little mean.” 

“Don’t be mean, Ed,” you pout. 

“Okay, I won’t be mean,” he smiles, opening your legs a little wider. He’s confident about his skills here, Chris loved getting eaten out so he dedicated a lot of time to getting it right. It helped that he loved going down, watching his partner gasp and whine while he serves her on his knees. Feeling the tug on his hair when he’s doing it right, making her feel good. The press of her hand to push him closer to her when she’s getting close, giving it to her over and over again. 

“Oh fuck, Ed — oh my god, baby,” you mewl, hips grinding up against his mouth. He smirks into the next stripe of his tongue, latching onto your clit to suck softly while his fingers press against your entrance. His eyes gaze up at you, your own going glassy while you look down at him. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” he confesses quietly, mouth returning to its actions immediately. He keeps his eyes on you while his first finger pushes in, he groans at the feeling — snug, warm, wet. He drags out slowly, a high pitched moan escaping you when he pushes back in with little resistance. His head moves with his mouth, tongue laving over your clit, lips pursing over it when he feels your pulse over his finger. 

“You’re so good — fuck — you’re so good at this,” you sigh. The praise runs down his chest and along his spine, he moans gratefully into his next kiss against you. He stripes his tongue again, using his other hand to keep your lips spread for more access. Your thighs twitch while he goes back to soft deliberate sucking, alternating between that and gentle fluttering flicks from the tip of his tongue. 

“That’s good for you?” he mumbles. 

“You’re so good for me,” you whisper back, gripping his hair hard when he pushes his second finger in, “Just…unhm, just like that.” 

He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, evidence of his skill coating them while he does. He wants to drag this out a while, take his time with you like he said he would. He breaks his mouth away for a moment to really look at you, just in your bra and skirt. His heart skips a beat, breath caught in his throat. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Too afraid to say it outloud. What if you don’t like that while you have sex? You said you like when he was a little mean, does that mean he should be mean all the time? 

“Earth to Ed…” he hears you say, your hand waving in his face. He looks back up at you, startled, “You okay? You stopped and sort of just…stared for a second.” 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he laughs to himself, taking his fingers away to massage the inside of your thighs with both hands, “Just got caught up staring at you.” 

“Ew,” you giggle with a smile, “You think I’m pretty or somethin’?” 

Eddie leans up between your legs on the couch where you come down to meet him, noses inches apart, “Well I don’t wanna be too forward…” 

“You’re literally eating me out, you can’t get any more forward,” you both laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Of both being shaky and shy even this far into the game. 

“Like I was saying — I don’t wanna be too forward, but I think you’re honestly so beautiful,” he blushes bashfully, looking down so all you can see are his full lashes, “And I didn’t wanna be corny and say it while I’m like, neck deep in your pussy.”

“That’s very sweet, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, pushing back one side when he looks up at you again. Baby. He likes when you call him that. He likes when you call him baby. He’s excited for you to call him other names like pretty boy, and babe, and honey. He wants to hear ‘em all. He wants you to spend the night so he can make you breakfast in the morning — for like…ever. You kiss him and he shudders, cock jumping in his slacks for a hint of attention — but he has a job to finish. 

“You’re very sweet,” he says, nuzzling your nose before kissing your cheek, then your jawline, your neck, your chest, down and further down until he’s between your legs again — he doesn’t tease this time. He licks at your entrance, replacing his fingers with his tongue to lap up what you have for him. Your thighs tremble he trails back up, swirling his tongue over your clit when his fingers snugly sink back inside you. 

“Eddie…” 

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks, voice smokey and deep. He lets his fingers search inside you for your g-spot, grinning when he finds it. Your moan is loud when he massages it, hips pushing down into the couch cushions, head thrown back while you grind against him. 

“M’so close,” you huff, “That feels so good, please don’t stop. Don’tstopdon’tstop.” 

He grunts, feeling your thighs jump while he keeps up his pace. His tongue gets sloppy with it, wet and filthy, pooling spit out of his mouth in droves to mix with your slick. He fills you with a third finger, legs parting further again while you huff into the stretch. 

“Ooh, you can really take it, baby,” he encourages, “Look at you takin’ all these fingers.” He glides the flat of his tongue over you once before leaning back to watch you. The pads of his fingers press in slow circles against your g-spot again, smirking when your eyes roll back. 

“M’gonna cum…oh shit  — oh fuck Ed I’m g.. — ohfuck — fuckfuckfuck — mmm-ah!” Your hips jump, lifting off the couch, writhing to pull away while you feel your orgasm rush rapidly to its peak. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” he smiles, mouth returning home to its place latched over you. He holds your hips down with his free hand, eyes fluttering closed while he continues. A slight flit of his tongue right as he pumps his fingers in puts stars in your eyes, thighs snapping closed on either side of his head — exactly what he wanted.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you chant with strained, shaking vocal chords, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie groans when he feels your walls clench down hard over his fingers, flooding over him down his hand. You hiss while he keeps going, fingers easing out of you but tongue licking up as much as he can while you come down in shivers. 

“You okay?” he asks, when your thighs release him. You reach for his hand, still covered in your juices and pull it toward you — but he knows your game. He knows you’re gonna lick it off and give him those eyes — so he pulls his wrist away, “Oh, no baby.”  

Eddie delicately puts his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours with a glint of satisfaction, and gently sucks them clean instead. 

“I don’t like to waste it, sugar,” he croons, “I can make you something if you’re hungry.” 

His sexy act breaks when you roll your eyes at him, clearly flustered by his antics in your post orgasm glow. He snickers when he stands up, leaning down to peck you with your arousal still smeared on his mouth and chin. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pouts back. A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to something passionate. 

“Why don’t I go get cleaned up,” he starts, before catching you in another kiss.

“You should pee since that’s the smart thing to do before and after,” he presses a kiss to your neck.

“And then I’ll take you to bed,” he murmurs huskily, “How’s that?” 

“That’s really nice,” you rasp back, turning so that you’re nose to nose, “But I am a little hungry now that you said that.” 

“You’re funny,” he smiles, another kiss, “I’ll get us a snack and then I’ll take you to bed, is that better?” 

“Much better.”  

Eddie passes you your panties and shirt, and points out where the bathroom is down the hall. While you traipse along, he opens the fridge, taking out the tiramisu he got as dessert with his takeout last night but didn’t get around to eating. He slices the generous cut in half, gently placing it on two tea plates and grabbing two forks. 

“Do you like tiramisu?” he asks when he hears your socked feet pad into the kitchen. 

“I do. My mom’s is the best actually,” you brag. He turns around to see you, your bright smile, your refreshed face. 

“Will you still eat it if it’s not your mom’s?” he asks, offering you the plate. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod, taking both plates out of his hands and placing them on the table, “But first I gotta –” 

Eddie’s taken aback by the kiss, but you don’t notice. He’s swift at the pick up, matching your pace expertly and hoisting you up onto the counter with surprising ease. He grunts when you pull him forward between your legs by the belt loops because he knows you’re trying to fuck just as much as he is. 

“Baby…” he starts, regretfully breaking away, “Are you hungry or not?” 

You don’t answer at first, you just look at him and kiss him again. When you pull away, your gaze lingers. Fear coasts icily over his chest when you almost look forlorn. 

“Shit…” you whisper, shoulders drooping. 

“Wh-what? What is it?” he asks, hands getting clammy where they rest on your thighs.

“I…” you take a deep breath, it shakes when you exhale, “I really fucking like you.” 

He smiles, but he knows why this is your response, why you look like this, why your shoulders sulk — because he’s also there, “Does that make you scared?” 

You nod, but instead of going in to kiss you again he pulls you close, smooching your cheek before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” he murmurs, “But if it’s any consolation…”

“I really fucking like you, too.” 

When you kiss again, he’s overwhelmed. 

“Fuck the tiramisu,” you breathe, “Let’s just —.” 

“Mhm,” he breathes back, hoisting you off the counter, balancing you on his hips, “I fucking need you.” 

Jingle. Click. Creak. 

“HONEY, WE’RE HOME!” calls the voice of a sloshed Steve Harrington, from the front door, “Put your clothes on, sluts.” 

But it’s not just Steve, it’s the whole party — the group filing into the living room while you hurriedly slide down Eddie’s form. Tatianna and Gareth follow in after everyone gets their shoes off, laughing and joking with Robin and Dustin while they stumble through the door. They halt when they catch Eddie’s expression from the other room, a stare so cold it could freeze them both. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Gareth mouths, realizing with deep regret what they’ve interrupted. Tatianna makes her way over, making a face of pure guilt when she makes it into the kitchen. 

“So here’s the thing, my phone died and Steve was using Gareth’s phone to change the music and I forgot to text you,” she explains to the both of you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” you laugh, “Please don’t feel bad. It’s you and Gareth’s apartment, too.” 

“Are you mad at me?” Tati pouts at Eddie, who could not stay mad at Tati for even a second. 

He puffs a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms, “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s okay.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, opening her arms for a hug which he obliges without question, “Gare’s sorry too, but unfortunately he’s busy babysitting Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum with Nance.”  Eddie looks down at you when he lets go of Tatianna, reaching his hand out to rub your back, “She means Robin and Steve.” 

“I figured,” you smile. Tatianna makes her exit and you’re both alone in the kitchen again. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie offers, using the leverage of his hand on your back to pull you in close to him. 

“What, why? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you furrow your brow, forearms leaning up the length of his chest. The opening bass of Dua Lipa’s One Kiss starts to thump from the soundsystem in the living room into the kitchen, along with Steve’s passionate This is my favorite fucking song, holy shit. 

“Everything got ruined,” he frowns, “I’m like, kind of embarrassed.” 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you urge, pulling him a little closer to give him a reassuring kiss, “There’s always next time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

“No?” he asks, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stayin’ right here?” 

“Well, until I have to go to home,” you shrug. The music gets a little louder and Eddie throws his disappointment to the wind. There is always next time. For now, he has you here in his kitchen, lips on yours, hands on your cheeks, the steady thump of the beat of his heart. And of course, Steve drunk crying to Robin in the living room – You’re literally my best fucking friend. You’re my best fucking friend Rob, I love you so much. 

Eddie giggles against your mouth at the sound, an ache caught in his chest. He really fucking likes you. 

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter eight

bj lips love potions ft princess paparazzi

❝Undress me, caress me

I just want you to fuck me

My love can't take it no more

Gotta cast it on you❞

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Knowing that Kenma left you and didn't even send so much as a text message made you feel a bit queasy in your stomach. You both spent the entire night together, even with a few good days leading up to it, and yet he still went ghost.

To you, it made no sense whatsoever. From the beginning, you both started off on the wrong foot, and now, when you finally felt that everything was getting better, he goes off the grid.

There was a permanent frown on your face and a hurtful feeling in your chest when you came back to the shared apartment that day.

After checking on a few of your neighbors in the apartment complex and verifying that staying in them was safe now, you finally went in.

That stupid gas leak caused a really good night between you and Kenma, and you couldn't help but to let yourself smile as you reminisced about the few hours before.

However, inside the apartment was strange because there was no sound at all. With Kuroo gone with his friends and Kenma nowhere to be found, it felt eerie.

Turning on the living room TV for background noise, a couple lamps as well, and starting on baking a recipe that Kenma had shared with you, you finally felt better about being in here by yourself.

You never really enjoyed the silence, ever; it always seemed deafening and always made you feel a bit anxious and panicky.

When the kitchen timer declared the homemade sweet bread from Kenma's recipe was done, you tried it and wanted to meet the woman herself because it was beyond delicious.

You sighed, stopping your chewing. Being alone was fine, but you hated being alone with no one there to talk to or annoy either. You would've thought that being an only child would have prepared you to not feel this way and learn how to be by yourself, but it never worked.

Deciding to rot on the couch for a little, you grabbed your blankets and pillows with a good show put on, and little did you know, you were slowly drifting off to sleep.

You awoke after a few hours passed by; the TV was long off, having shut down by itself after so much time of inactivity. You felt hot—unbearably hot; the blankets you were cuddled up with earlier had damn near suffocated you.

The cool wetness of your clothes stuck to your legs and lower back.

Oh, how you hated waking up like this after a nap; it was frustrating and left you feeling woozy.

Getting up on wobbly legs, you made it to the kitchen to gulp down a large glass of water, and that's when you noticed the time. 6:00pm shined brightly on the oven timer; sleeping for the whole day wasn't something you expected for today, but it happened.

You eventually found your phone, ignoring every message that wasn't from Kenma or your parents. You groaned, throwing yourself back onto the couch, pushing the blankets down to the other side with your feet.

A dull sleep headache causing you pain, adding onto the fact that Kenma hadn't even sent you one measly text, had made it worse altogether.

Quite frankly, you missed him; you missed him a lot. You swallowed hard, not wanting to dwell too much on those particular feelings because you could tell with the way that your heart started to dully give off throbbing pains.

Deciding to distract yourself by cleaning was always a good choice to help you; it's always helped your mind because you were physically doing tasks.

After cleaning the living room again because of your mess, the kitchen, laundry, and bathroom were all done. However, you got curious yet again about Kenma's room and took your gloves off to push his bedroom door open.

It looks just like how it was last, but with him not home, you could actually look through his room and not feel his beady eyes on you watching your every move.

You got excited; the thrill of snooping through the bedroom of a guy you liked was a bit stirring. You've liked his room from the first time you went in, of course, and even the time before that.

You tip-toed in, having a feeling you might get caught if you don't hear the front door open. You look around, your heart basically in your throat. You loved the feeling of the thrill this gave you.

You first went to Kenma's bedside table; on the top there was a stray hairband, a hairbrush, and tissues, as well as a half-full glass of water. You raised a brow; that was seemingly normal enough; you cheekily smiled mischievously and opened the drawer.

You gasped when you saw a pack of condoms in his bedside drawer.

You hadn't expected Kenma to have those because you figured he didn't have a girlfriend. Your face heated up when you touched the box to move it and look at the other stuff in there. You saw some vitamins, daily supplements, and a few personal items of paper that you weren't going to touch.

Your eyes drifted back to his pack of condoms. Does he have one-night stands or something? The thoughts were endless, but you had to remind yourself that he wasn't your boyfriend, so whatever he did with those condoms was his choice.

With a sharp inhale, you exited his room, making sure you left everything just the way it was before you came in here.

Heading to your room, you decided to read for a little to pass the time. He would have to eventually come home, right? You would wait for him, wanting to confess your feelings; the more you waited, the more the anxiousness bubbled in your stomach.

Thinking about Kenma was easier than trying to anticipate when he would be home.

However, the more you thought about Kenma, the way his warm, larger frame felt against yours last night, and his eyes... oh, how his eyes became glaringly sharp when he’s pissed.

All of that causes the predicament you’re in now, with your hands between your legs, eyes tightened shut, and covers pushed to the end of the bed.

Your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans to no one’s ears in particular; you were home alone after all.

Your heat was throbbing, desperate for more than just the showerhead, more than the pleasure that you can get from your short fingers.

Being cursed with stubby fingers had caused a predicament that you could never reach that good spot inside of yourself, and so you resulted in finishing by playing with your clit.

You never thought that you’d actually be masturbating to the thought of Kenma, then again, you remembered that he did the same way before you both had developed this tension between you. You’d give anything to grind against him, to tease him for the way he’s treated you before.

You were losing it, back arching off your bed; your fingers worked diligently to help you aid in reaching for that orgasm you needed badly.

Kenma, coincidentally, was on his way home at 8:00 p.m. on the dot. After thinking about whether he would ignore this heightened feeling inside of him till he either A) moved out or B) graduated, he knew that he couldn't do that.

Safe to say that Kenma fell for you, and of course he already knew that deep inside but would never, ever admit it for something so dumb and petty that it physically made him cringe at himself.

Hoping to help aid in his apology, he bought you an iced seasonal coffee and a little sweet treat to help you not be in any negative mood towards him.

It was like he felt guilty all over again, thinking back to when he scared the daylights out of you and caused you a horrible nightmare. Only this time, he basically stood you up for an entire day because he wasn't certain about the feelings his heart was telling him, only due to the fact that they clashed with his mind.

Taking a deep breath and preparing for the night, Kenma unlocked the apartment door with his key. However, he was not expecting to hear loud, high-pitched moaning noises coming from your bedroom upstairs.

Kenma froze, the worst-case scenario coming to mind, which was that you were having an intimate moment with another person because you decided that he was waiting too long.

However, the more he waited to hear something to give off any details, there were no beds creaking or slamming against the wall, and there were no other moans/groans besides yours.

He was about to step out and send you a text that he was on his way because maybe that would dull the pink in his face, or maybe it would give him enough time to have his dick go down if he stood outside in the cold.

Before he could even open his phone, he heard a soft meowl of his name from upstairs, from your bedroom upstairs.

The mixture of chills and need rushed down his spine as he set everything down on the living room coffee table. Slowly making his way upstairs, you were unbelievable loud, yet he couldn't stop the feeling of wanting to hear more, wanting to see, wanting to feel.

Kenma tried to be as quiet as possible, the ache in his lower half becoming more of a nuisance by the second. His eyes almost bulged out of his head when he realized your door was halfway opened; no wonder he heard you so clearly.

Every light was off upstairs, with the exception of your pink lamp and TV that was playing a random show. It cast a beautiful glow on your skin as Kenma peeked around the corner of your doorframe; he hoped to God that you couldn't see the way he was being a pervert for you.

His eyes glowed with a need to please you; he watched carefully as your fingers were vigorously working hard to give you pleasure. His brows furrowed when he realized you weren't touching your hole at all.

That in itself made him curious; of course your fingers were wet; they even looked sticky, and Kenma wondered what your slick tasted like.

Kenma couldn't help but stare at you; he's never seen you naked before, and God, you looked fuckable, not to mention alluring with the way your body hypnotized him.

He stalked the way your body moved with every twirl of your fingers around your clit; your eyes were shut tightly, your other hand underneath your shirt, toying with your nipple.

It was an erotic sight, and Kenma could tell from the shallow thrust of his hips against his hand that he was bound to come soon. It was something so little, but watching someone like you in all your glory, he couldn't help himself.

He watched the slight ray of tears that were in your lash line; he wondered how long you've been at this and how long you've been without it. He knew with the way you started thrashing and your hips started to buck that you were going to come soon.

The moans you let out were so angelic, he wanted to break them so badly. With a few more thrusts and hearing his name on your lips once more, Kenma came inside of his pants.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath and collect himself, as well as getting one last peek of you, you looked so precious and worked yourself so hard because of him, and if he just owned up to his feelings, he could've done that for you.

Silently, going back downstairs because it would make too much noise to go into his room and change out of his pants and underwear for clean ones. Kenma decided to pretend he just got home and didn't just come to the sight of you toying with yourself.

With a few loud movements of his keys and the door shutting rather loud, he figured that was enough since your door was open after all.

Kenma tried to make himself seem normal enough, getting a drink out of the fridge and switching the living TV to something more so he would watch. However, ignoring the spurts of cum that were in his pants was a bit hard, as it felt uncomfortable after so long.

After a few more moments, you came downstairs, calling for him, and his body responded delightfully to your voice.

"Kenma? Are you home?" You called, coming down the steps. When you heard the front door shut, you rushed to get up and close your bedroom door and fix yourself as quick as possible.

"Yeah, I'm home." He paused, getting up from the couch.

"I got you a coffee and a muffin." He said, sounding apologetic, and you could only guess that he was apologizing for the ghosting shenanigans of today.

"Thanks, Ken... Where were you, by the way? I haven't seen or heard from you since I left this morning for breakfast. And then you just leave, shoulder-check me, and don't even say sorry." You asked confused, not liking this wishy-washy he was treating you with.

It hurt and made you confused in your own feelings, especially after masturbating to him.

Kenma's eyes glazed over as he was thinking of what to tell you.

“I'm...sorry, Y/n. I didn't know that I bumped into you, and for leaving without saying anything, as well as worrying you." Kenma sighed, not really sure what to say without saying that he likes you a lot.

You felt skeptical about his words, but there would probably be more later; after all, it was just the two of you here.

"It's all fine. I know you probably have things going on, and so I won't pester about it. I'm glad you're back though, I  misunderstood. Your eyes widened when you realized what you were about to tell Kenma—you've never told him that you've missed him before.

Luckily, your stomach grumbled, and that's when you realized that you haven't eaten since the hotel's breakfast this morning.

Kenma cracked a smile, which made your eyes light up at the sight. "Let's order in, okay? How does Mexican sound?" He asked with a smile, making your heart skip a beat.

You nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good." You were grateful for Kenma, not realizing that he always thinks about you. Whether you have eaten or need to eat, your needs when you get scared, and even letting you use him as a safe place when you're feeling that way.

As he ordered for the both of you, you started to feel guilty because he was being so sweet, and you were just upstairs masturbating to him. God, you really were the worst, you thought.

"Can you answer the door? I'm going to go change really quick." Kenma asked of you, a slightly disgusted facial expression showing. You furrowed your brows but nodded anyways. It was no hassle for you.

When the food got to the apartment, you both decided on a movie that wasn't scary nor a child's movie per his request and to which you rolled your eyes.

Settling on a romantic comedy, it was interesting as you both ate the food he ordered. Sitting side by side on the couch with the food on the coffee table, you both were close, and even then, you wanted to be closer to him.

Watching a romantic movie with Kenma left your mind open to roam about confessing to him; you wanted to desperately but was afraid of how it could backfire. Then you got into your head about whether Kenma really even liked you.

You didn't even realize it, but the credits started to roll, declaring the end of the movie, and you finally got the courage.

"Um, I like you!" You blurted out, turning towards Kenma, cheeks-tinged pink, and food left untouched because you were so distracted by your mind.

Kenma took a sharp intake of air and eyed your face. "Are you sure that's not lust?" He raised a brow, and you frowned at him, hearing your confession go unnoticed and deemed as lust.

"No, I like you, Kenma, like romantically and maybe sexually too, but I like you, alright?" You felt frazzled, trying to clarify that you had a bit more than a crush on him and then some.

Kenma's eyes widened like he didn't expect you to flat out tell him that either, "But I was mean to you when we first met, Y/n. Don't tell me you're into that." He trailed off, veering away from you for the effect.

You gasped, the blush coming back from embarrassment. "Kenma, no! My God, if anything, you're the one who's into that. I mean, if you requite my feelings, that is." You asked shyly, not wanting to assume but also wanting to desperately know.

"I do'requite' them; fancy word you got there." He chuckled at you; it made you smile. Knowing that Kenma actually likes you back was exhilarating for everything you both have been through together.

"Wait, so why did you hate me when we first met? I was so nice to you." You questioned, feeling more comfortable with asking him these questions, leaning in more.

He seemed to keep his calm though when you started questioning the reason behind his actions, "Because you're cute, sweet, and girly. I didn't realize I liked that, and you bustlingly about everywhere and adding your touches in the apartment made it feel more like yours too and not just Kuroo and I's. It was hard, I guess." He thought about it more, not realizing that you almost short circuited when he called you cute.

"That... makes more sense now. I was trying to be so nice, and then you were just mean to me. Then I got fed up and started being rude as hell; I hated that." You laughed trailing off, thinking back to when you had that mutual feud going on between you both.

"Yeah, I actually wished I hadn't been like that towards you. I really just wanted to get closer to you but didn't know how and decided to unintentionally belittle you." He grimaced at his own actions, hating the way he treated you.

However, it was refreshing to see this side of Kenma; you loved how open he could be when he wanted to be.

The night trailed on with the both of you confessing the small and big moments throughout the weeks from when you moved in. You found out about how your big nightmare was single-handedly caused by Kenma, except the rainstorm bit.

You listened intently when you realized he was confessing to causing you hurt; you felt like your heart was bursting at the seams because of him. It felt nice inside to finally be able to talk with Kenma about the mishaps between you both and forgive one another.

Yawning, tears pricked your eyes as you covered your mouth. You tried to find a clock to check the time, but your phone must've fallen into the couch.

"It's practically two in the morning. I didn't mean to keep you up so late; you should go sleep, Y/n." Kenma, yet again, was looking out for you, but you never minded though.

"I think I should; I'll help clean up though. I forgot this is your usual, staying up so late, I mean." You mentioned gathering the empty dinner plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Mostly yeah, but I'm tired tonight because I barely got any sleep last night." He recalled, scratching underneath his ponytail of his head.

"Oh, right, I forgot about that. I'm sorry," You apologized yet again after you found out you were the reason Kenma had zero sleep last night. He really went all out with his confession, but yet you still had a sense that he was maybe guilty about keeping all of that inside.

As you both headed upstairs, you were quicker than him when he turned off the downstairs lights. You were faced with an option. Now, Kenma wasn't thinking, nor knew, about this so-called option, but you made a choice.

"Ken?" You called from your room, gathering your PJs, because you already assumed what he was going to say.

Followed back was a "Hm?" from Kenma himself.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" You asked, more quietly now, as if you were scared of what he would say.

Kenma paused, and for a good second you thought he was hesitating. "If you're sure."

You smiled all giddy and quickly changed into a large night tee and shorts, as usual. After a speedy night routine, you meet Kenma in his bedroom.

This felt much more intimate than it did in the hotel for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that you both agreed to sleep in the same bed, or maybe that you both know a budding relationship might start, or even that you both have seen each other in such a vulnerable, alluring state already.

Climbing into the silk-sheeted bed, you felt like you were in heaven; not only did you feel like you were going to sleep on clouds, but Kenma even had a heating blanket.

"Oh my God, I love your bed." You commented, happily rolling around in the sheets as he was too busy checking his monitors and turning them off.

"Thanks, it's good for my hair since I dyed it back in high school." He half smiled from what you could see with him turned around. It felt more comfortable being around Kenma like this; it was easy and comfortable.

When Kenma climbed into bed as well, that's when all comfort went out of the window. His larger frame climbed over you so he could lay by the wall, his usual spot when sleeping.

Everything was quiet for a few minutes, and you thought that he may have already fallen asleep, so when you turn over to your side facing away from him and lay on your back, you hear him shuffle.

"So... how was your orgasm?" His voice seemed like it was coming from directly by your ear; your face immediately flushed red, but it was barely seeable since it was dark in his room with the exception of your nightlight.

"... What? What do you mean, Ken?" You tried your best not to stammer and make it as even as possible. You were sure that the front door had opened when you were already done, right? You wracked your brain but couldn't remember because the sleep in your eyes was becoming too much.

"You remember the hotel? I figured you didn't connect the dots because you're a little sleepy, but I didn't get a wink of sleep. You made a confession, did you not?" Kenma's voice sounded different—huskier, filled with a need for something.

You froze until you felt his warm hand snake around the bed to find your waist.

"Yeah, I—um, I made a confession at the hotel..." You closed your eyes, not wanting to deal with the shame of Kenma knowing that you spied on him while he was masturbating—to you after all.

"You're so dirty, you know that, right? Such a dirty girl..." He trailed, massaging your love handle, "But you liked it, right? Is that why I came home to you, pleasuring yourself to the thought of me?" You could hear an ever so slight chuckle underneath his breath. Kenma was toying with you. And you liked it.

"I'm sorry, Kenma. I didn't mean to spy; I just heard, and then went to go see—I'm sorry." You pleaded, not sure what for, until he turned you around, facing towards him.

"Shh, no worries, it's okay, Y/n. Can I kiss you?" Kenma asked, his lidded eyes staring in your wide, needy, dilated ones.

You nodded, not sure what to say other than yes; your heartbeat was practically in your throat as you shook your head yes. He came closer; you felt his breath on your lips before he closed the gap and touched your soft lips with his own.

Kenma parted your lips with his tongue, swiping at the entrance, wanting to explore the inside of your mouth. He's waited for this moment since he first fell for you, and savoring this moment wasn't enough; he needed to conquer.

A rough hand came to the back of your head as he pushed you closer to him, his tongue furthering deeper in your mouth. You couldn't help but to moan out into the kiss, using your nose to breathe instead of breaking it for air.

You could feel the wetness between your legs, and the heat in your core began to stir. Kenma got restless and started to grip your clothes roughly; his breathing was uncontrolled and harsh, like he had been waiting for this his entire life.

Kenma abruptly broke the kiss with you; you whined and fisted at his clothes for more.

"Stop whining, Y/n. I need to know if you want this; you do know what is about to happen between us if you want to continue, right?" His yellow, cat-like eyes stared hard into yours; you could tell Kenma was restraining himself after you worked him up so much.

"I want, I do want this... I just haven't done this before, though, with anyone." You admitted, hoping he didn't think you were lame since he had that jumbo pack of condoms in his dresser drawer.

"I haven't done it either; I just know what I want and can tell what helps you feel pleasured and what doesn't." He coolly said, a hand snaking under your shirt; his eyes glinted when he found out you weren't wearing a bra.

"Ah! But those condoms... in your drawer? I had thought that maybe you have already done this before." You trailed, not meeting his eyes because you just confessed to snooping around in his room without him knowing.

"You little peek." He chided and lightly pinched your nipple, "Those are from Kuroo, a gag gift from my birthday, actually." He smirked and started placing small feather-like kisses on your jaw.

He needed to get you worked up if he wanted to ensure that you were prepped right for him.

"God," he groaned into your neck, "I've wanted you so badly." He couldn't help but to leave little marks as well; from now on, you would be his.

"Me too; I've wanted you so, so badly, Ken." You whined, arching your back as he lifted your shirt and sucked on your nipples, effectively causing your thighs to rub against one another, ensuring that his plan was working.

You have never experienced something like this, and it made your body feel burning hot and your core throb. Kenma, on the other hand, was experienced to a certain extent due to the internet, manga, and having friends that are guys.

Either way, the achingly painful throb of your core demanded to be filled with every lick and slight tug of your nipples that Kenma was doing.

"You really like your nipples to be played with, my little dirty girl, don't you?" His groaned out into your ear, whilst his magic hands kept working their way on your tender breasts.

His hand snaked down to your panties, effectively slipping them off of your legs, the build up from his playing with your nipples was getting to you, making you extremely eager for the next stage. 

“Are you ready for this?” His piercing eyes couldn’t break away from yours as his middle finger slipped inside your wet heat. It was…strange to say the least, a low moan spilling from your mouth when you felt the pleasure of him moving his digit in and out of you.

His long finger was such a pleasuring break from your short, stubby ones.

Soon after Kenma watched your expressions precisely, he added another finger, keeping it simple as he could feel the tightness from even just that. Your face winced until he slowly started thrusting his fingers into your cunt, slightly curling them to prepare you for what will come afterwards.

“You’re being so good for me,” Kenma whispered, never taking his eyes off of the way your body started to join in with the rocking of his hand, your hips becoming in sync with how badly you wanted more.

Soon, your back was already arching off of his bed, the sight beckoned his dick, which was already painfully throbbing and awaiting your warm hole to fill. 

"Ken,” your voice came tumbling out roughly, “Oh God, I can't—I can't, plea—ah! Stop." You cried, the feeling of your usual pleasure was building in your core but this time, Kenma could reach that one singular spot which had you seeing stars.

His hands didn’t stop inside of you, and quite frankly you didn’t want them to stop either. With the way his thumb rubbed over your clit so lightly you were on the brink of an orgasm.

All of a sudden the pleasure failed to rush over your body, your hips jerked forwards, needing the movement that was suddenly stopped to start again. 

"No! Please! Why did you stop, please?" You could feel the orgasm dissipating inside of your abdomen, your cunt clenching his fingers inside of you that wouldn’t move. 

"Don't tell me to stop if you actually don't want me to. Now, tell me youre sorry, you brat." Kenma spat at you, you both didn’t have a safe word yet and so, Kenma had no choice but to follow your instructions and body language, he didn’t want a misunderstanding because you got overwhelmed with the toe curling pleasure. 

Heat of embarrassment rushed to your face but you hoped he couldn’t tell, “I’m,” you sighed hating apologizing when you knew you were in the wrong about this, “I’m sorr-” You were cut off once again when Kenma hovered his hot mouth over your clit, his digits continuing their bruising movements from not that long ago.

Soon, the rushing thrill of almost finishing came over you yet again and this time, Kenma let it happen. Your legs went stiff as your back arched, his tongue rolling over your clit and a high-pitched moan releasing from your throat.

Kenma slowly slid his fingers out of your cunt, tasting them when your eyes were closed. He didn’t want you to see how needy he was for you. With deep breaths and a few feathery light face kisses from Kenma, you opened your eyes. 

He was right in your face, staring at you deeply in emotion, “You did so well, I’m so proud. Do you want to stop?” There were no negative feelings in Kenma if you did want to stop, he assumed you were worn out already. 

“Huh? No, of course not. I want,” You paused, realizing how badly you still wanted to be filled, especially by Kenma. “I want more, please.”

Between the time of Kenma kissing you all over your face, he had taken his pants off. You stared at his cock, the angry red tip swollen with a need to be released. You gulped, eyes starting to become lidded with need just by looking at it. 

Kenma reached for his side table after letting you look at it, almost stopping to groan when his dick touched your warmth.

You couldn’t help but to arch your back as his dick twitched, “Can we…do it without the condom?” You flusteredly asked, hiding your face behind your hands, you were slightly grinding on his unprotected dick by now. 

Kenma raises a brow, skeptical about having his first time raw with you, knows he shouldn't, but when you’re being such a little minx, he just couldn’t disobey your request. 

“Are you ready then, Y/n? I’ll be very slow and listen to you.” Kenma promised, eyeing you as you allowed him to slowly enter inside. It’s a very damn good thing that Kenma had some patience, even though it was slowly deteriorating, because your cunt was so fucking wet and siphoned his cock into it. 

With a harsh gulp, he peered down at you, feeling the miniscule beads of sweat on his skin from the activity at hand. Your eyes were tightly shut and Kenma hated how your first time was painful while he wasn't.

Although, he realized that you were tense instead of relaxed and that effectively made the whole action hurt even worse.

“Y/n,” He choked out before taking a deep breath, “Y/n baby, you have to relax. It won’t hurt as much if you relax.” Kenma urged, for your sake and his, he was going to cream himself if you didn’t stop holding his dick hostage in your cunt like this.

After a slight head nod and no result, Kenma carefully leaned down without entering even more and started pressing light kisses to your tense face.

“C’mon, relax baby,” He mumbled, kissing your closed eyes, helping your body become more pliable instead of stiff. 

“M’sorry,” You quietly apologized to him, in which he denied that.

“It’s your first time, you didn’t know, baby.” He reassured you. 

With a few small words of permission to keep letting him sink into your cunt, Kenma fully, but slowly, sheathed himself inside of you.

The snug pleasure was overwhelming to Kenma, but he couldn't help but to prefer your pleasure over his. He decided to keep his eyes from rolling back, watching you as he very gradually rocked into you, watching his cock disappear into your warm, wet cunt.

His dick felt like it was going to burst any second, the ache in his groins was a hard fight to maintain and not flip you over to fulfill his own pleasure. 

That was until you started rocking your hips back to meet him, silently asking for more. Kenma squinted at you and stopped moving until you started whining at him. 

"Use your words,"  Kenma’s rough, mean voice came out. He wanted to hear you say it, you needed to learn to be clear when speaking to him about something. 

You hesitate, "I want more; it doesn't hurt anymore; it feels really good." You sigh in pleasure, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been because of him. 

A snap of Kenma’s hips clashed you both together, and like clockwise, the delicious noises fell out from your mouth, unable to be contained even by your hand. 

Kenma gripped your waist, entering you at a breaking pace, the tightness of his hands on you hurting in such a painfully good way. His cock pierced your insides and you found yourself meeting each and every one of his thrusts with the same eagerness. 

Not being able to keep his hands off of your body because the squish of your walls were pulling him in further, it felt like you didn’t ever want him to leave.

He leaned over you, trying to desperately attach his mouth to yours, the look of both of your eyes were mirrored with pure lust and attractiveness.

In less than no time, the toe curling sensation of a familiar orgasm rushed over you, trying to claim your body. 

“Ken, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," you chanted loudly, rolling your hips faster against his, hoping to grind your clit against him. You fisted at the sheets harder when Kenma put your leg over his shoulder and rubbed your clit. 

Your vision became uncanny as white spots filled it when the crashing wave of the second orgasm of the night rushed over you. Kenma did not slow down or even falter for a second when your body started spasming, your cunt seized as Kenma’s moans finally spilled out as he kept going.

You, on the other hand, had accidentally stopped breathing with the overwhelming waves of pleasure hitting your body as if you were under water. The rush came unyielding as Kenma kept going; he noticed, and yet it made him harder and his dick eager to release.

"Haaah, breathe baby, c'mon breathe for me," Kenma urged, not able to stop his thrusts but trying to soothe your spasmodic state by rubbing your face and throat as gently as he could. 

To his relief, a loud, strangled gasping noise came out of you and Kenma realized that you were crying by now. 

God, seeing you like this in pleasure, your face beating red, and tears rolling down your cheeks was the tipping point. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, oh God, I’m gonna—" Kenma desperately wanted to cum inside and fill you to the brim of his seed but knew that it wasn't smart to do, especially since this was the first time you both had sex.

His dick was tightening, becoming ready to spill his seed inside if he wasn’t ready to pull out. 

"In—side," You choked out, the pleasure making you feel light headed and leaving an airy feeling in your body, almost as if your orgasm never ended. Kenma knew better than to listen to you when you're drunk on sex. 

As his thrusts came to an end, they became sharper and more bruising, and on his last thrust, he pulled out quickly, almost missing, and came on your cunt.

His head was thrown back, groaning, as he rubbed his cock all over your pussy like a dog in heat, the last warm spurts coming out of him on you, which left you with a strange feeling.

Once Kenma was able to collect himself, he leaned down to you looking like you were out of it and not even here all the way. He pressed kisses to your forehead, feeling the dampness on your skin.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?" Kenma worriedly asked, with a weak shake of your head, he got up ass naked, and all you heard was the bathroom sink running before he came back. In his hands were a cup of water and a wet cloth. 

"Let me clean you; I didn't mean to finish all over you down there," Kenma apologized, his ears turning pink as his usual self came back down to earth.

"Mmm, it's okay. I'm sorry for almost pressuring you to finish inside," you said sheepishly, realizing how bad it was and how horrible he would’ve felt afterwards if that did happen.

After Kenma cleaned you up, he put his shirt over your body, pulled you close, and turned on your favorite childhood show. You relaxed into his body, letting his hands roam all over you and massage the weak points of your body.

"I really enjoyed it, Kenma, thank you." You bundled your head down into the blankets, comfortable in the way he played your favorite show and the fact that his bed, obviously, smelt like him. 

"You make it sound like you paid me," he snorted from behind you, "But you’re welcome; now sleep, you're tired," and sure enough, you followed his orders.

Kenma went quiet behind you as he was relishing in the way your body fit against his, the smell of your shampoo, and the fact that you are in his clothes, which all eased his mind to a comfortable slumber.

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

a/n: hihi everyone! second to last chapter ;) i hope you've all enjoyed this so far <3

tag list: @geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart @ookamiakasuna @22marie16 @jlly1 @aldebrana @kad0o @animechick555

@deftrow allowed me permission to make this/it's their idea from A03!! all i did was create a multi-chapter fic of it :) i made the banner!!

[slimybeth69]

Que Será, Será: Part 7

Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!! Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss? Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play. Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3. Chapter Warnings: nothin' crazy, just some sensual shower stuff. ANGST. SAD.

Sorry if the texting is like, hard to understand. Joel is BOLD and INDENTED. You're just regular-degular.

<- previous chapter

Series Masterlist

You slept not one wink. Not one single fucking wink and guess who slept great? Mr. Miller.

His alarm goes off early as shit. So early. You’re mad at him when he crawls over the bed and snuggles into you. Your eyes are so tired but they just wouldn’t shut. You are praying he doesn’t ask how you slept because you won’t be able to tell him not well. 

“Mornin’.” He kisses the back of your shoulder gently. He can go kiss bricks for snoring as loudly as he did. Morning? Like you weren't up all night? Okay. 

“Morning.” You’re so short with him and you don’t even mean to be.

He notices immediately. This must have been a common issue in his past relationships or... he hasn't fucking had any, or he dated deaf women.

“Snorin’ all night?” 

Oh. So he knows? Cool. Didn't wanna warn you about it? Get you some ear plugs? Awesome. 

“Yeah, kinda.” You roll over and lay on your back beside him, he’s on his side, looking down at you.

“Sorry ‘bout it.” He mindlessly rubs the back of his neck before he leans down and kisses your forehead gently.

Suddenly all the anger is being melted away. All gone. 

“You don’t need a fan to sleep? You just sleep in the dead quiet?” You blink up at him tiredly. Just tired. No more mad. He's so handsome and he has sleep still attached to his voice so it's deeper. 

“I can fall asleep anywhere. Doesn’t matter.” Joel chuckles softly. “I didn’t think y’cared ‘cause y’never complained or nothing when I stayed at your place.” Joel slides the hand that's not supporting his head across your stomach over the t-shirt he gave you last night. “Sorry. I keep ya' up all night?” He feels bad, but…you don’t care that you didn’t sleep. If this is how he’s gonna wake you up every morning? Shit. You’ll get a sleeping pill or something. Ear plugs. A fan. 

“It’s okay.” You’re the one smiling stupidly now. Grinning up at him like no ones ever touched you anywhere ever before (not like this, they haven't). “I don’t care.” Your hand mindlessly rests on the one he has on your stomach, he keeps moving both of them slowly. 

“What time ya gotta work?” He asks softly. 

“Eight. What time you gotta go in?” 

“Whenever I want.” He grins at you and leans down to kiss you softly. “Do you gotta shower before work?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Yeah, I usually do. I brought stuff to shower here if that’s okay?” You’re talking to him like he’s going to say no. He just asked if you needed one.

You don’t like how nervous he makes you, not at all. But he is already climbing out of bed and pulling the covers off of you. 

“It’s only six thirty…Do you want this old man to make you come before you go?” He whispers down to you softly, his hand inches down towards your center. You nod. “C’mon. Follow me.” He is already headed into the bathroom.

You scramble out of bed, grab your little shower bag and follow him. He’s already getting the water turned on and ready. and it’s incredible. The inside is… big. For what reason? There's two fucking shower heads in here–two! No fucking way. 

“You did this bathroom?” You ask as you climb in before he does. Getting naked was so easy. So fast. Two things. 

Now, this is the most naked you guys have been around each other and you might end up just calling out of work. You’re going to stay in here with him all day. You've seen him naked when he showered in front of you last time you were here. But now you get to touch him.

“I did… y’impressed?” Joel smirks and turns on the other shower head. 

“Shut the fuck up. Different temperatures?” You eye him suspiciously because who is he? How did he do all this. 

“Yeah. The ex’s request. For no reason. We never did this.” Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you under the water with him. Lil colder than you’d like but that’s fine, still warm. You’ll heat your side up perfectly when he’s done kissing you.

His morning breath isn’t bad and you wonder what god sent him to this earth. You know your morning breath is, and he’s kissing you anyway. He might be a god, honestly.

Joel's tongue slips past your lips and he licks at your teeth and the inside of your cheeks. It's a deep, desperate dance of open mouth kisses as his hands roam across every inch of you he can reach.

You mewl when his fingers and hands cup and grope your tits gently, his palms rubbing across the nipples teasingly as he moves his hands around the curve of your breast. 

“How you want me t’do it?” Joel looks down at you with water dripping all out of his facial hair and his hair is so wet. Fuuuck. Okay. Play it cool.

“Fuck me.” You whine up to him quietly but he snorts at you and shakes his head quietly. “Whyyyy?” You cry softly but with no real tears or sadness. This is a fun lil game– for right now. It will not be if he keeps this up forever. You’ll revoke your offer. 

“Oh are you gonna complain ‘bout it?” Joel narrows his eyes on yours but his smirk never leaves. You freeze. “No. Yer’ not.” Joel decides for you. “How do you wanna come? Mouth? Fingers? I could use the shower–”

“What?” You blink. 

“What?” he blinks back at you. 

“The shower? How–” Joel answers your question and removes the shower head from the holder. There is another shower head still going. This is just an attachment appaenrly. You wonder if this was something his ex-wife requested as well and wanna throw up. But then he does a thing and the shower attachment comes to life and spurts and sputters. “You never had one of these?” Joel ask, twisting the dial around the nozzle. So many different setting. Regular shower head. A fucking super concentrated jet of water that if Joel tries to put anywhere near you… you’ll never speak to him again. It's like a fucking pressure-washer. No. Not that one. Then one that just is fucking… looks broken. What the fuck? Just dribbling out? No pressure? Who uses that one? It makes you actually upset to see that because it’s actually pointless. 

“No. Just a regular, boring shower.” You’re staring at the attachment in his hand and then he finds the perfect one.

Like a fucking lawn sprinkler. One quick, short, fast little blast of water. Not nearly scary as that fucking jet stream. Jesus. Joel already knows that this is the one. Which makes you mad but you have no time to question how he knows the perfect setting before he’s kicking your legs apart. The shower handle is behind held only inches away from your already buzzing and throbbing clit.

Dear God.

It is a leg crumbling pleasure that almost drops you to your knees because you’re not expecting it. Joel grabs you under one arm and pulls the shower attachment away. 

“Good or bad?” Joel needs to know. 

“G-Good. D-Do it again.” You can barely comprehend how you've been shower handled into stuttering.

What just happened?

Before he does it again he has you place your hands on his shoulders for support- ya know in case ya fucking fall over. What the hell did you get yourself into with this man?

“Keep goin’?” Joel holds the shower head so it’s massaging the front of your thigh and even that feels fucking amazing. Oh god. He could do this all over your body…and then you could do it to him. 

“Pleeease,” you whine, holding onto his shoulders.

Joel kisses you again in a slow, searching-for-something embrace as the short, fast bursts of water find your bundle again.

Holy shit.

You can’t even kiss Joel back anymore. He licks at the inside of your mouth while you vibrate against him. It’s incredible and so fucking amazing and almost too much…so concentrated.

You move your hips back and forth to give it some rhythm and that-- well that's just amazing.

The moan that gets pulled right out of your chest is filthy. It's a sound you've never made before, not with Joel, not on your own. You're embarrassed as soon as it leaves you.

"Oh ya' fuckin' like that?" Joel moves his wrist in a small circle, the stream of water focused solely on your clit. "Say my name," he growls down at you.

There is apparently nothing to be embarrassed of, Joel loves the enthusiasm.

"Daddy," you mewl up to him as he leans in to press his forehead to yours.

"S'my good girl," Joel snakes his free hand around the back of your neck and holds you-- grips you-- so you look up at him. He crowds you in the shower, his whole body towers over you. "Ya' s'fuckin' cute. Love watchin', baby."

Everything feels like it's being swept away, pulled out from under you. There is a tautness in your belly and it's threatening to snap.

You clench your eyes shut at the rapture inside of you, but it’s short lived. The water between your legs is gone. “What!?” You exclaim, snapping your eyes open to look at Joel. 

“Yer gon’ look at me when you come…” Joel whispers softly. “I wanna see ya… been relaxed ‘bout it… not anymore. I wanna see them eyes when you fuckin' come,” Joel leans down and you right between the eyes. “You want Mr. Miller to make you come now?” He whispers it against your forehead, and now your knees are weak for a whole new reason. 

“Yes, Mr. Miller. Please make me come.” You whisper into his chest. Joel doesn’t hesitate or make you ask again.

The water and the pressure and everything are back. Right where you want it and you start to move your hips again. His shoulders feel so fucking strong under your hands. His skin? Fucking smooth. Like, incredibly smooth and soft.

Shit. That water is hitting you in all the right spots and leaving you almost breathless. 

“Good?” Joel pulls his lips back from your forehead and looks down at you. You’re already looking up at him, nodding. Unable to speak. “I bet it does. Y'ain't gotta ask me to come…yet. Just gotta look'it me f'now." He rumbles deeply, leans down to kiss your lips, and is met with a moan, a real one as the water touches you in all the best fucking ways. It’s warm like Joel’s mouth. Fuck. “Yeah, lil girl. Move them fuckin’ hips.” Joel is looking down between the two of you and sees your body undulating at his watery command.

“Feels s-so good, D-Daddy,” You sound come-stupid already… but you’re close. He’s pushing you there. Pointing over your shoulder which way to go to feel good. You’re so thankful for him ‘cause you did not know where to go. "Yes. Y-Yes. P-Please keep going..." Fuck, your legs are already trembling and you can barely think. 

“I love makin’ you moan and feel good," He growls down to you and that just pushes you right to where you wanted to be.

You stare at him and try so hard to get your words out before it actually happens. 

"You'regonnamakemecome,” you spit it out quickly as all one big word.

Joel is grinning, and nodding his head softly like he’s giving you permission even though it was going to happen regardless. 

“Ohgod-- Ohgod-- Ohfuck-- Fuck! Mr. Miller!” Each exclaim followed by a gasp for as because you are moaning, so loud.

Joel’s eyes are lock onto yours, never leaving as you come. You barely blink. You’re hypnotized by him. You feel too good and your hips are doing things they’ve never done before. Moving in ways they’ve never twisted and turned while rolling them back and forth. You gush and it’s the first time you’ve done that standing up so, it does make your knees buckle but Joel has you. Had you the whole time. “Ohthankyou.ThankyouDaddy.Fuuck.” 

It's only whimpers and whines as he holds the water to you as the orgasm disperses and now you’re left with now just mind buzzing and jolting electric shocks of too much pleasure. You’re twitching with each one and Joel is smirking down at you as you stare up into his big brown eyes. He pulls the shower head away and kisses your lips. 

“Good?” He smirks and lets you go gently, making sure you’re on your feet and not going to fall. You got it. Can’t fucking think straight…but you can stand. Joel replaces the attachment and gets right to showering. You’re still swallowing hard, standing there. Breathing heavy. You have to move. Have to shower. You have to work. 

“Are you…good?” You ask Joel as your body remembers how to move again. 

“Whaddya mean?” Joel asks as he washes his hair and beard. You also start to wash. 

“You don’t need to.. Ya know?” You nod down to his very obvious erection and smirk. He chuckles and rinses the suds out of his hair. 

“Nah. I’ll be fine.” He chuckles and starts to wash his body with a bar of soap. You..don’t like this answer. Dunno why. 

“Okay.” Is all you say though.

Why? Why will he be fine?

He finishes his shower first and leaves you in there to finish up. To overthink. Shit. Okay. No. You're not doing that. No way. Things are fine. You think and hope and pray to Satan because, fuck. Why didn’t you do something with that big swinging thing between his legs while he was working on you? Idiot, too focused and selfish to worry about Mr. Miller. Sonofabitch.

He’s gonna hate you. 

Nooooo, you don't want that. You… kinda like him, actually.

Humph— No you do not. 

You get out of the shower angrily… like you have a right to be. You grab the towel Joel hung up outside the shower for you and dry. Fast and angry.

You go into the bedroom where Joel is already pulling on a black t-shirt over his head; you only catch the last glimpse of his beautiful, sculpted back before he's fully dressed.

You both are quiet as you finished getting dressed. You bring your little make up bag back into the bathroom and brush your hair and your teeth.

Joel comes in while you’re trying to put on mascara. He reaches over to your mirror and presses a button on the side and all the lights come on. 

“That better?” He smiles at you goofily. So stupidly. 

“Why wouldn’t you let me touch it!? Why are you fine?” You do not keep your composure at all. 

“Uh– wha– I–.. I would’a let y’touch it. I get why y’didn’t but— we gotta work now. Don’t really got time.” Joel snorts nervously and shrugs his shoulders.

Oh. 

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” You turn to him and feel stupid, of course. “I wasn’t even–” Joel doesn’t let you finish. 

“Hey… I’m not mad ‘bout it. I’ll get through the day jus’ fine.” Joel smirks and gives you ass a soft smack. “Make it better fer’ when I see you again. More.” Joel smacks your ass again and then starts to brush his teeth. 

“I’m still sorry. I was distracted and not thinking.” You feel goofy for being so upset. Jumping to conclusions.

“Listen Birdie, you ain’t gotta apologize. M’not mad. I wanted to make y’come before you went t’work. I don’t normally…do that…to myself before work.” Joel shrugs his shoulders. “Makes me tired.” He smirks and cleans his graying beard up with his electric razor. “I was tryin’ to distract ya.” He adds when he turns his razor off. “If I needed you to touch me…I’d tell ya. I didn’t need it.” His reflection is talking to you through the mirror. You’re standing behind him, done getting ready minus the wet hair. 

“You’ll really tell me?” You double check to make sure he isn’t lying to you. 

“T’be honest… if we were already in that situation… and I know ya wanna…I'd make ya touch it.” He winks at you through the mirror and puts on deodorant and then he turns around. “Never gonna force you… unless you wanted me t’force ya…know what m’sayin, baby?” He leans against the sink and crosses his arms over his chest.

Fuck. He’s… fuck. Nothing. He is nothing. 

“I would try that sometime.” You smirk at him– can’t fucking help it. Just happens. 

“I wanna be th'one ya' try it with.”  

“Ok.” It comes out short and fast and excitedly. Joel chuckles. He pushes himself off the sink and walks to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Yer’ real fuckin’ cute. Makin’ it hard t’wanna wait.” He leans in and kisses you softly. 

“How long you gonna make me wait?” You ask tentatively. Joel shrugs his shoulders. 

“I ain’t gotta time frame. Jus’ want it t’feel right n’ make you comfortable…” Joel kisses you again. “Give ya a lil confidence so yer’ first time is real fun. Yer’ a lil-cute-shy-thang sometimes…” He murmurs against your mouth and, now you’re never leaving his house.

Never. He’ll have to call the police. There will be a domestic disturbance here if he makes you leave. 

“Okay… ” You’re officially obsessed with him. You could kick your feet and hug your pillow and literally giggle. Giggling. Oh god. This is bad. You just got a cat!

“Fuuck. I wish we didn’t have t’work.” Joel groans and so do you but you are going to be late if you stay here any longer. 

Joel walks you downstairs with your bags in his hands like the most perfect, handsome gentleman that he is. You love this. Never want it to end. It’s all happening…he puts your bags in your truck, opens the door for you. Stands by the open door when you’re in so he can kiss you. Then he says goodbye and shuts the door and you have to watch him walk back into your future house without you. 

UGH. 

This is getting out of hand. Out of hand. No. You’re not doing this– he is twenty years older than you. He has been married, and has a daughter your age. He is NEVER going to introduce you to her. He’d probably be so ashamed… oh god. Okay. No. Don’t do it. You buy yourself another overpriced coffee as a treat, for nothing.

You’ve done zero good things today so far. Neglected your ‘has-yet-to-fuck-you' buddy this morning. Got all pissed off about that for no reason. Now you’re making up scenarios in your head. 

Gotta call Patti tonight after work. Maybe on the way home even. Fuuck. Okay. Shit. 

Thank god you got that coffee. You needed it because it's so busy. So busy all day for no reason. So many people all buying dumb, stupid tools you know nothing about.

There isn't much you know about home improvement, but the things you do know, you can list off on one hand.

Screwdriver. Hammer. Nails. Shingles. Saw. 

Boom! Done! Did it!

Fuck this job. 

You stand in the back room and just give the wall that faces the sales floor the finger for a solid thirty seconds. It does the trick and makes you feel better. A little.

It’s almost time to go and you snuck away for a lil break. Haven’t had one all day. Bullshit. Okay. It’s not that bad. The day went by real fast. Just… hate looking at fucking tools all day. Bleh. Rather be lookin’ at Joel if you’re being honest which you know you are. So. That’s fun. You check your phone for the first time today. Three messages from Joel. Two from Cody. A voicemail. One missed call. From Cody. You call him back before anything. 

“You workin’?” Cody sounds distressed. 

“No, I’m home.” You lie so that he will just tell you and not wait until you’re not at work. 

“Okay. Listen t’this. Sam is being admitted into a mental health rehab here in Munich for a while. Carson n’ I are gonna stay close by in an AirBnB or whatever. You good out there? Need any cash or anything? Truck good? House good?” Cody needs to get off the phone and honestly so do you, but you have so many questions.

What the fuck?

‘She’s okay, right?” You ask nervously. “She didn’t do anything stupid, Cody... did she?” 

“No. Fucking dumbass. She’s fine. Sad. Real sad. Maybe not fine but she didn’t do that. Her doting husband is helping, asshole. Are. You. Good?” He asks again because he is clearly busy. 

“I’m fine. I’ll call you later or call me or something I dunn-” Cody hangs up on you like a dick but you get it. He’s probably dealing with shit. Fuck. Thankfully she is somewhere people can help her. You can’t imagine not being able to get help with that. S’gotta feel hopeless. Joel’s messages. 

Better have a good fuckin day brat… ima be thinkin bout you 

Shit. Okay. He is so cute. Fuck. The next one. 

i'm thinkin bout you right now. when i can see you again?

Oooooooh. Oooooooooooohhhh. Okay. You’re fineeeee. The last one says. 

tonight maybe? I can come to you.

OH SHIT. He likes you too! OH. OH. This is so good. Such good news.

He sent those messages hours apart, which means he thought about you multiple times during the day.

You have to sigh. A big deep one. A happy one. You’ll still call Patti when you get out of work, but for a different reason. This could be the start to your first real relationship, and it's with a decent man.

How exciting!?

Work is expecting you back (they didn't ever expect you to disappear), so you'll just call Joel when you get home. There is only an hour left of your shift and it goes by fast.

Unfortunately for you-- Patti isn't the person you call to tell your good news to.

It's the police, and you have no good news for them.

Someone broke the window to Cody's truck and took your ‘spend the night’ bag with your laptop in it.

There wasn't anything incriminating on that laptop, and it's not like they could get into it easily. It's password protected. There's that feeling of 'nothing-can-ever-go-right' feeling creeping up in your stomach as you explain what happened on the phone to the dispatch person on the phone.

The laptop wasn't your whole life, it's just an electronic-- but you did use it every single day. To read your fan fictions, and your murder blog and to video chat with Cody and Carson.

You just want to cry. There is broken glass all over the seat and floor of the truck, and the police officer is very nice and tries to help you get it all off before you climb in and start the annoying drive home with no window.

As if your day wasn't bad enough, when you open the garage door to park the truck inside, there is a mountain of stuff you have to move so there is room. It's not like the truck would get stolen if you left it in the drive way, but with your luck? You're not taking the risk.

It takes you almost forty-five minutes before there is a space large enough for the truck.

There's an excessive amount of tears the entire time.

You finish and head inside, and about to get in the shower when your phone rings. You answer without even looking at the screen.

“S’wrong with you?” Joel doesn't give you time to say hello and he sounds upset. “Mad at me or something’? I thought we were good when you left t'day. Th'fuck is wrong with you?”

You groan loudly- you forgot to call him or even text him.

Why is he being so unforgiving!? He doesn't even know what happened, and he's going to make you start crying all over again! Even in this state, you know what it feels like to be ignored, and to overthink, and to have the worst thoughts running through your head.

Now you feel bad for making him worry, even if he is being an asshole.

"N-Nothin's wrong w-with me," you sniffle in an attempt to try and keep your composure, but it's a sad attempt. "I just h-had a b-bad day. I'm sor-sorry." The words are choked on, and it's very obvious that you're trying to hide your tears from him.

“What're ya' cryin' for?” Joel sounds much less mad. “S’wrong, lil girl?” He coos to you through the phone. 

You whimper, and feel like an idiot, unable to speak.

"Baby girl..." Joel trails off like he's in physical pain at hearing your discomfort.

The shower is still going in the background, and now you're just sobbing against the sink, completely naked.

What a humbling experience.

"Were ya' 'bout t'shower?" He asks softly.

"Yeah," you whine out softly. "S-Sorry--"

"Hey, shhh, s'okay, s'alright. Get in the shower, get nice 'n clean. Relax. Calm down a lil, and call me when ya' get out, 'kay?" His voice is so soothing and it makes you feel so much better than when you had originally answered the phone.

"'Kay," you sniffle and wipe your nose, nodding in agreement, even though he can't see you.

"I'm gon' talk t'ya real soon, baby girl."  

You hang up because the tears continue to come even now, when he's being so sweet and nice to you.

You don’t even know why you’re so upset.

You have the money to do both things… fix the window and get a new computer. It’s just all your extra money– saved money. So, that’s fun and it just feels like you can’t catch a break.

It’s always been like this. 

You spend longer crying in the shower than you would like to admit. It felt good though. You get out of the shower and are puffy and red faced from crying. Of course. You dry off and go to get pajamas on before you call Joel. When you do he doesn’t answer. Of course. Now you’re sad again. 

It’s late-ish. Almost nine now. He’s not gonna even wanna come over anymore. Fuck. You don’t even bother trying to call again in case he fell asleep or something. You read your scary blog on your phone but it’s not the same and you just get more sad. 

The TV is good for Jersey Shore reruns. That’s it. You need some good Ron and Sam drama. Need it. So good (it’s not). It made for such good TV(highly toxic). It’s almost nine thirty when the doorbell rings and now you’re in attack and protection mode. You run up the stairs and fling the door open. 

“Stop it.” It just comes out of your mouth before you can help it. The sigh in front of you is so perfect.

Joel has his stupid 'spend the night' bag in his hand.

“Y'don't want me to stay?” He asks nervously, like maybe he made the wrong choice coming over… but isn’t mad that you might not want him to. He’ll do whatever you say. 

“I need you to stay, I thought maybe you fell asleep. You never called me back."

“I realized fifteen minutes into the drive that I left that stupid phone at home… n’ I don’t need it. Yer’ here.” Joel shrugs his shoulders. “Didn’t think ya were.. Tucks not in the driveway…”

It’s inevitable after he says that! Waterworks. Tears.

Joel doesn’t wait for you to invite him in this time. He just wraps you up in his arms. “S’wrong? Somethin’ happen? I gotta go kick someone’s ass, lil girl?” Joel sets his bag down and leads you into the upstairs living room because it’s just right there when you walk into the house and there is a couch. He sits you down beside him and brings your legs into his lap. 

“Just a b-bad day.” You whimper as he rubs his hands across your thighs slowly. 

“How? What's makin' you cryin’ like that?” He is so worried for you. He probably thinks you got attacked or something. 

“Just a long day a-at work. Someone b-broke Cody’s truck window. Took m-my c-c-comp–” You can’t even finish.

“I’m fuckin’ sorry, baby. Don’t cry. I know someone who can fix yer’ window.” Joel is working on this right now--working on solutions for you. “I’ll text ya his number tomorrow when I get my phone, ‘kay?” 

“Thank you.” You sniffle and sigh loudly. “N’ thanks for comin’ over. I did really want you to come and was… a lil sad when I thought I couldn’t see you.” You whisper. 

“I thought y’were fuckin’ mad at me all day.” Joel huffs in annoyance and it makes you actually laugh. “Thought y’were ignorin’ me. Spent most of the day wonderin’ what I did!?” Joel leans his body over yours so he’s partially on top of you. “I didn’t do shit.” He sneers and kisses you lips softly. “Got me actin’ all big n’ dumb,” He snickers against your lips. 

“Acting?” You tease him and he pinches at you sides but you point at him in warning. “No. Tickling.” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Neither of us get tickled… fair?” You try to come to an agreement on it. 

“What? Jus’ ‘cause you gave up easy means I gotta?” Joel pinches and tickles at your sides anyway and has you cackling. “S’what you wanted t’do t’me last night? N’ you couldn’t. Too bad, lil girl.” Joel is growling at you as you laugh beneath him. “Might be big n’ dumb… ya know what else I am?” Joel pauses and looks down at you, waiting for a response. 

“I dunno. What?” You ask breathlessly. 

“Bigger n’ stronger than you.”

Then then more tickles start on your sides and stomach with his big, strong fingers.

“Noooooo. Dooooon’t.” You whine, and Joel’s fingers stop. “I haaate it.” You’re giggling even though you do not like this. It's torture.

“Okay. No ticklin’. Uhhh, you hate bein’ carried ‘round like a lil baby?” Joel smirks down at you.

You pause…having to think about it for a moment. You shake your head no up at him while he climbs off of you. Standing beside the couch, Joel scoops you– literally a swift swooping motion and he’s got you behind the back of the knees and behind the back– up to his chest. “Hey pretty girl.” 

“Why’re you doin’ all this?” You sigh softly as he carries down to your room.

Joel shrugs. "I dunno. Don't like seein' you sad?"

You love that he doesn’t want you to be sad. You hate that he won’t tell you why, or that he doesn’t really know why he's doing all these things.

Sounds like a crock of shit to you. Just once-- like in the fucking movies (it's stupid, you know it, doesn't matter), you want someone to tell you exactly why they care. It's the confession, it's the desperate need for you to hear them proclaim their feelings for you.

Even though Joel hasn't done that, he’s here. So…. that might be the answer?

UGH.

It doesn’t really matter right now, Joel is laying you down on your bed and he takes two steps back and doesn't do a lil tease or anything— it’s not even a conscious thing he does, you don’t think. Joel just starts to strip. He’s unbuttoning his flannel shirt, smirking at you a little while he does it. You sit up on your elbows as he rids himself of the button up. His thick, strong fingers work on the buckle of his belt and soon he’s just in his boxers and a t-shirt and white socks which is just… ugh. 

“Come here.” You whisper and Joel twists his head around like you could be talking to someone else and then looks back at you curiously and points to his chest. 

“Me?” He teases and looks flustered. “Ya want me in yer’ bed?” He sounds like he cannot believe you. He’s being so fucking cute and you’re punching everyone who even comes close to him. He’s too fucking cute. He doesn’t make you ask him twice as he crawls into bed with you. 

“Sorry I have just a regular sized person bed.” You whisper as he presses himself to you gently. Joel shrugs. 

“I’ll deal with it.” He’s not smirking or being cute anymore. He’s so close to you and there is something different in his voice. “I like bein’ here with ya.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly… but he lingers. His mouth opens slowly, almost like he doesn’t know if should but you part your lips to let him in– graciously accept his tongue into your mouth– greedily even. He exhales heavily through his nose as your tongues touch and sinks into your mattress besides you. His whole body melts and you lean into him as his hands find your waist. “Get on me.” He growls into your mouth, tugging at your shirt as he rolls onto his back. 

You get on Joel quickly and desperately, crawling to be straddling his waist and leaning over him to kiss him again. His fingers spread across your cheeks on both sides as he moves his hands into your hair so it’s not hanging down around either of your faces. He grips it gently in both of his hands as you deepen the kiss, moaning softly into his mouth. He is breathing heavily and pushing his hips up into yours as you grind down into him– feeling how excited he’s getting. 

“Are we gonna?” You whisper quietly as one hand drops from your hair to between your legs. He’s rummaging around down there like he’s looking for something. He smirks against your lips as he adjusts himself to be more comfortable. Not touch your pussy or put his dick inside you. 

“Nah. But I know when we are.” he whispers quietly, his lips barely moving as he speaks against your mouth. Then he sighs deeply and his other hand leaves your hair and finds your waist. 

“When?” You moan softly as he starts to move your body against his. 

“Soon.” He smirks. “Sit up.” When he speaks it’s not a demand or an order but he’s firm about it and his fingers dig into your hips through your pajama shorts softly. You do what he wants, and run your hands over his chest– still hidden behind his t-shirt– as he pushes and pulls your body along his slowly. You help him this time. You weren’t able to the first time he did this but now you’re not stuck and in shock on his lap. You’re ready for this and want to be the reason he comes in his boxers again. “Fuck.” Joel strains it out softly under his breath as his arms stop having to work and your hips take over.

“Do you like this?” You coo down to him, pushing your hands against his chest softly so you can lift your hips off of him lightly and with a gentle and slow sweep forward of your hips, you can push your body down against him and drag the heat and softness of your pajama covered pussy back down his shaft over his boxers. 

“Jeeeeeesus fucking Christ...yes.” Joel sighs loudly as you do this. He lifts his head so he can watch where your bodies meet even though there is nothing to see. “Yer’ doin’ so good, lil girl. D-Don’t fuuh-cking stop.” You stammer his speech as you do it again, a little rougher now when you grind down into him. 

“Yes, Mr. Miller. Whatever you say.” You purr softly and Joel has to close his eyes tight and stifle another moan. 

“Fuck.” He snaps breathlessly as you move against him, his hands are still on your waist but they’re moving with no meaning, searching your sides helplessly as you start to lead him to euphoria– for the first time on your own and you’re excited. 

“You like my young pussy on you like this, old man?” You whisper down to him and his eyes snap open and his hands stop moving and grip you tighter, he looks… a little shocked at first. “What?” You're just as shocked by his reaction.

“Dunno… say that again..” He whispers softly and pushes the hardness of himself up into you, his eyes never leave your face as you whisper it to him again, more hesitantly now because of his reaction, but your hips keep moving and he keeps bucking up into you rhythmically.

“Y-You like…m-my…young pussy—” You can’t even get the rest of the sentence out before Joel’s mouth drops open slightly and his tongue glides across his bottom lip but he stays silent, just gazing up at you with his smoldering brown eyes. “...on your big, hard cock like this, old man?” You put a lil twist on it this time and get a very positive reaction from the man underneath you. 

“Fuck. Fuck." He chants quickly. "Yes I do.” He whimpers. “P-Please don’t stop.” He begs you. You almost go completely still because he’s a different man underneath you right now and you fucking love it. 

“You gonna fuck my tight little pussy soon, Mr. Miller?” You lean over and watch his face, pinning him below you with your hands on his chest as you rock your hips against his rhythmically and drag a low groan from the back of Joel’s throat before he can speak again.

“So f-fuckin’ bad, lil girl. F-Fuck.” His body is quivering underneath yours. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” He begs more and it’s doing something to you. 

“Open your mouth.” You coo to him and he doesn’t question you at all. While still moving your body against his, you grips his face under his chin and hold him to look at you while you work your mouth together. Joel is moaning softly, looking up at you while his body starts to twitch and jerk underneath him. His cock is throbbing already between your legs. You lean in close and spit onto his tongue. 

Joel grips you tightly, closes his mouth and groans loudly, keeping his eyes open so he can look at you while you make him come. He swallows and then he talks for you. 

“Fuck yeah, bad lil girl. Oh fuck. Fuck. Yer’ so fuckin’ naughty, baby. Jeeeesuuss.” He is breathless and panting those words loudly as his stiff body twitches underneath you. He holds you like that down on him– keeping you still, pushing his hips up into yours. You inch your hips forwards slightly and make him hiss sharply and clench his jaw as his eyes clench shut. “Shiiit.” He sighs softly as you lift your body off him. He lets you, his hands falling to his sides. 

The room is silent besides him catching his breath. You don’t climb off of him yet, you just look down at him as he lays on your bed, his brow beaded with sweat as is the base of his neck. His eyes are still closed and he is just breathing. 

“You ok? Do you want a water?” You snort softly and lean over to kiss him. His hands come to your hair again and he kisses you with those big, slippery, open mouthed kisses that feel like a tidal wave when he kisses you. Feels like you’re drowning in the best way. His tongue– fuck, is so soft and warm and strong as he slithers it around yours. He kisses you like that for only a moment before he pulls away. 

“I’m good.” He smirks and his hands start to trawl up and down your sides and hips and the outside of your thighs. “How you wanna come?” He asks, nodding up at you with a smirk. 

“I don’t.” You grin down at him but he frowns. 

“You got me this morning. I’m paying you back now. N’ now you can be tired n’ sleep real good and snore in my ear all night.” You’re smirking harder and feel silly but he smiles now and tilts his head up to steal another, gentle kiss. 

“Yer’ somethin’ else, baby. Really are.”

Joel’s snoring that night isn’t that bad with your jet engine sounding fan blasting as high as it will. You sleep fine. You just need to get one for his house… You’re trying to not…freak the fuck out? Because…this might be the first guy who you like…really start a real relationship with. Which makes you sad because…why are you just starting now? Silly. But…everything you ever did led you right here…sleeping next to Joel Miller the carpenter and the sex god. Jesus. The sweetheart. The dirty old man. Fuck. Okay. Don’t get too ahead of yourself. It’s fine. Having fun. Takin’ things slow. It’s good. Fine. You’re good. 

The next morning Joel’s watch alarm goes off and you don’t want him to go. You don’t have to work today and you’d rather just him not leave. He turns his alarm off without rolling over to you and goes back to sleep. You don’t question it. The next time you’re waking up it’s him touching your stomach and thighs gently. 

“Hey. Get up.” he’s shaking you gently. 

“Why?” You groan quietly.

“We gotta go get yer’ window fixed.” he whispers quietly. “C’mon I’ll get you an iced coffee.” He smooches your face and you finally open your eyes. He’s changed into clean clothes and showered already. It makes you smirk and you dunno why. “I don’ gotta work today. Jus’ takin’ care of ya. S’my only job today.” He stands up and pulls the covers off of you. 

“What?” The sleep is still rolling all around in your brain. “Why?” 

“I dunno.” Joel shrugs his shoulders. “I don’ gotta job today. Next one doesn’t start ‘till next week.” 

“No why are we doing the window?” You’re so confused. So tired still honestly. 

“It’s broken, right?” He’s just as confused as you are. “Ya need t’shower? I can wait. Roll up fer’ us, if ya want.” He suggests, standing at the end of your bed. You stare at him, blinking. You rub your eyes and wipe the crusties out of them. 

“Okay.” You get out of bed and shower. 

Joel is going to take you to get your window fixed and get you coffee… sonofabitch. Motherfucker. He’s too good. Something’s wrong with him. Has to be. Not just him being an asshole either. He’s perfect. Why wouldn’t some hot bitch have snatched his ass up sooner? It’s too suspicious but you… don’t even really care. That man sitting on your couch– which lets not forget, is located in your older sister's basement— could ruin your entire life and you…wouldn’t care. You’d be sad about it, obviously…but he’s so hot you might thank him as walks out of your life forever. No. That’s…unhealthy. Obviously. You’re swallowing hard in the shower by yourself thinking about all of this. 

Joel is waiting for you with two joints and a smile when you come out of the shower. 

“I uh… took th’liberty of…” Joel trails off and looks at your bed and doesn’t say anything else. You turn to see what he’s looking at and he… picked an outfit for you while you were showering. “Hope you don’t mind. Don’t gotta wear it. I think it’s cute though.” 

Uuummmm. Okay . He picked such a simple outfit. Black denim jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt. Low cut. He also picked out your undergarments. A pair of light pink cotton panties and a black bra. Fuck. He is perfect. 

“I don’ wanna do it all the time… just… dunno. I was peekin’ at all yer’ stuff.” Joel smirks as you get dressed. He watches the entire time. “I do alright?” 

“You did. Somethin’ I’d pick.” You try and sound not in love with him as you go to blow dry your hair and do some quick sprucing up. Whatever you’d normally do to get ready. When you walk out of the bathroom, Joel is ready– joints in hand and his cute little spend the night bag in the other. 

Joel drives back to his place to get his phone, gets you an iced coffee and on the way back to your place calls the guy who can fix the truck window. When he gets off the phone he smiles over at you. 

“Lucky yer’ man knows so many people. He said t’bring it over now and he’d be able to get it back t’ya tomorrow.” Joel is smiling and resting his arm on the center console, his wrist facing up. You know what to do. You scratch your nails up and down the underside of his arm. You’ve seen the scars on his arms and back before. Assumed they were from years of carpentry but…looking at them now…they’re weird. Patterned. 

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” You say, still inspecting the slightly raised lines of skin on his arm. More pale than the rest of him. “How’d you get all these? Work?” You ask curiously, flicking your eyes up to him. He pulls his arm away, swaps his grip on the steering wheel and rests his other arm on the open window. 

“Yeahhh. Been in the trade fer’ a long time. Get cut up real good.” Joel doesn’t look at you when he says this. Doesn’t sound very genuine about it. You don’t push it because he either doesn’t wanna talk about it or doesn’t want you to know. Either way… scars are scars… you have a bunch, don’t always wanna talk about how you got them. So you respect him and let it go. 

“Well, if you ever get scratched up again like that, I’ll come clean it up for ya. Take real good care of ya.” You wink at him and make him smile. Now he turns his head to take in your face. 

“I’m holdin’ y’to that.” He growls and drives back to your place. You’re about to climb out of your truck when an unknown number starts to call you. You answer. 

“Hello?” You’re curious. 

“Hey, it’s Matt from the cat shelter…” His voice is like nails on a chalkboard and you start to shake like a leaf. Your phone isn’t on speaker but it’s not quiet. And Joel's truck is quiet. 

“Hey…” You don’t know what else to say and Joel is staring at you. 

“Hey…uh… Agatha is ready for you to come pick up whenever. Today or tomorrow. Whatever works for you.” He says simply. 

“Oh!! Oh god. Okay! Thank you. I’ll be in either tomorrow or the day after– is that alright?” You ask less nervously now, more excited but still…don’t wanna be talking to Matt. Not in front of Joel. 

“Yeah. She’ll go back up for adoption if you don’t get her by next week though.” He explains not sounding mad or annoyed that you blew him off. 

“No. I’ll be there for her before then. I will.” You speak firmly now so he knows you’re not having second thoughts. 

“Yeah, sounds good. Have a good rest of your day.” Then Matt hangs up. You glance over at Joel who is watching pretty intently. 

“My cat.” You smile nervously at him and he smirks, shaking his head. 

“You wanna go get her?” Joel asks curiously. “I’d take ya….” This is an excuse for him to go eye up Matt. See how you act around him. You know it. 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind… I’d like her here and not in a small little cage.” You nod at him slowly. 

“Alright. Let's go meet Matt." Joel sounds so excited.

Joel leads you to the car repair shop, Agatha’s carrier is in his backseat and you’re going to pick her up after you drop Cody’s truck off. This is the first time you’ve been around Joel and seen him interact with someone else. Joel shakes his hand with vigor when the men greet each other. 

“Heyyy buddy. How ya’ been?” The taller, older man pulls Joel into a hug and slaps his back with just as much vigor as the handshake. 

“Ken. Nice t’see ya man. Been good. Jus’ workin’. How’s the old lady? How’s Mags?” He asks curiously. 

“Shiiit. Mags is ‘bout to be graduatin’. Headin’ off t’college soon. Goin’ to Penn State. So fuckin’ proud of her.” Ken does sound proud of his daughter. So fucking cute. You’re a little jealous but whatever. “Ole Lady? She’s fuckin’ perfect as always.” Ken smiles again. He’s kinda handsome. Older than Joel– not as handsome as him. But he takes care of himself it looks like. 

“S’fucking good to hear, man. I ‘ppreciate you gettin’ the truck in here s’fast. Needed it done pronto, so thanks.” Joel tips his head to the side slightly when he thanks him. You love his little mannerisms. 

“Shiit. No problem. Ain’t busy so it’ll be quick. Get it back t’ya tomorrow mornin’.” Ken nods. “It yer’ truck or the young woman’s?” Ken asks, giving you a small nod and a smile. 

“Shiit, I’m sorry. This is Birdie.” He introudices you with his pet name for you and you…melt. 

“Nice t’meet you.” Ken holds his hand out and you shake it. 

“Nice to meet you too. Thanks for helping me out. Takes a lot of stress outta my life.” You chuckle and are very appreciative. 

“Anything for Joel. Did work on my house when me n’ my wife n’ daughter moved t’Austin a couple years ago. He’s a good guy.” Ken talks him up to you and Joel’s pinky finger brushes against yours so gently it’s almost like he didn’t do it. But then he does it again. And again. Then he holds it there against yours. 

“He’s alright .” You joke and rub your pinky against his as you say it and get goosebumps…all over. Ken laughs, a good laugh and points at you knowingly. 

“We’d love t’stay and chat…but she’s got a cat waitin’ fer’ her at some sad shelter. We’re gonna go get her’, right ?” Joel looks down at you for confirmation. 

“Sure are. Spend the rest of the day lookin’ for her, ‘cause she’s probably gonna be scared and hide.” You are excited and as you speak your excitement leaves because you know you’re not gonna see that cat once you get her home for at least three days. You researched it. She’s gonna be scared. 

“Well go on then, go save that lil pussy cat!” Ken exclaims and gestures with his hands to leave. You smirk and Joel slides his fingers between yours and walks you back to his truck– opens your door for you. 

“Thanks.” You smirk as you climb up. It’s getting easier now. Joel gives your ass a soft smack as you get in. 

“No. Thank you. ” Joel is grinning as he shuts the door. 

The ride to the shelter isn’t long. It’s close by. You hadn’t been nervous at all but now… you’re shitting your pants as you walk in and Matt is right fucking there to look at and now ‘yer’ man’ is right behind you. Matt looks confused as to why you brought him, but doesn’t… say anything weird or act out of sorts when he takes the carrier from you. He puts Agatha in there and hands it back to you. 

Joel is right behind you the entire time, standing so close you can feel him breathing down your neck but it’s not bothersome at all. You like it– like how his fingers graze at your lower back under the hem of your shirt.

“She’s gonna be a little spooked for a couple days. She’ll come out n’ eat at night when you’re sleeping. Just make sure she uses the litter box within the first couple days. If she doesn’t… let us know. She’s had some kidney issues— nothing crazy! It’s why she has that special food–”

Joel pinches your ass gently. It makes you shiver before you cut Matt off.

“I know. We talked the other day about it. I’ll call if I have any issues or anything. Thank you,” You’re so polite and respectful and nothing weird happens. It’s perfect. You and Joel are walking out, Joel is about to put his hand in yours when Matt calls to both of you.

“Hope you and your dad have a good rest of the day.” 

You stop dead in your tracks and look back at Matt and he’s not even looking at you anymore. He’s already walking into the back area behind the counter.

Joel does not grab your hand after that and you die inside. 

The walk to the truck sure is quiet after that. Most of the ride too, minus Agatha howling like she is being tortured inside her spacious and comfortable carrier. He speaks halfway back to your place. 

“Uh– so… did you have any place, uh…else ya’ needed t’go?” He asks, with hesitation all over his words. 

“No… I’m fine. Thanks though.” You answer nervously. “ Sorry –”

“Nope. It’s fine.” Joel doesn’t let you finish. 

“I don’t care. I know you’re not , so—”

“Yeah… but does everyone else?” Joel scoffs softly and now. You’re dead. Fully dead. A dead body with a screaming cat on her lap. Fuuuck. Joel pulls into the driveway and doesn’t move. Doesn’t turn the truck off. Nothing. 

“Do you…still wanna come inside?” You don’t even wanna ask. You know he’s not going to. 

“I know I said we’d hang out—”

“It’s fine. I hope you have a good rest of your day. Talk to you later.” You do not let him finish. You get out of his truck and carry your screaming cat up to the front door. Joel rolls his window down but doesn’t get out. 

“I’ll call ya later, ‘kay?” He calls out as you put your key in the door. 

“‘Kay.” You call back to him and slam the front door shut. 

Stupid fucking Matt. Fuck Matt. And his stupid tattoos. Fuuuuck. You wanna run back outside and tell him not to leave but when you look out of the window he is gone already. You’re doing nothing to try and hold your tears back. You bring Agatha downstairs, shutting the door at the top so she can’t explore the rest of the house yet. 

You get the litter box ready in the bathroom and set it out of the way. You get her fresh water and open the food you got. Angrily. All of this is done so angry. The tears you have aren’t even sad ones. They’re mad ones. You’re a woman. A grown fucking adult woman. Who gives a shit how many years there are between you and Joel? You’re both grown. Fully. No more growing left to do. Why is there an issue? Why is it weird? It’s because he has a daughter your age. Almost. She’s younger than you, yes. But not by much . 

Agatha doesn’t bolt like you expect her to when you open the carrier. She pokes her little head out and looks around very curiously and takes one hesitant step out, sniffing everything. Very intently. She looks right up into your face and meows. It’s high pitched and adorable. Sounds like she says ‘hello’. 

“Hi.” You sigh to her sadly. “You don’t care how old or young I am. Do you? ” You let her smell your hand and she does, for two seconds and then rams her head into your fingers and rubs her head all over you. This fills you with love and now…you’ll die for this cat. Fuck, she is perfect. Small and sweet. 

The next four hours are spent playing with her because she doesn’t hide. Not one time. She eats her food and drinks her water. You show her where the litter box is, but she doesn’t use it right away. S’fine. You’ll keep an eye on it. You might keep checking your phone to make sure you didn’t miss a call or a text even though your phone is on the loudest ringer setting. You listen to your sad music and cry a little because you might have lost ‘yer’ man’ before he was ever really even yours. 

You cry a lot. Sad tears now. Jersey Shore reruns don’t even help and they always do. 

“ Are you friends with her? Lemme know know. Are you friends with her?.... Are you?” TV gold and it didn’t even touch the sadness inside of you. You wanna call Joel but he doesn’t wanna talk to you. Obviously. You call your job around five and let them know you’re not coming in tomorrow because of your truck. They understand, they’re not mad. They feel bad that the security cameras didn’t catch anything. Didn’t see who did it. 

Joel doesn’t call you all night. The next morning he texts you. 

Your truck is ready.

And gives you the address. You text him back.

Thanks.

That’s it. He doesn’t offer to give you a ride or ask how you are. Nothing. You order an Uber to the repair shop. Ken smiles when he sees you. 

“Lady Bird, how are you doin’?” He asks happily. You do your best to not sound like your insides are being pushed into a wood chipper. 

“I’m good. Thank you again for doing it so fast.” You smile at him half-heartedly and he gives you a small sad smile and hands you the keys. 

“Don’t look s’sad. I dunno why yer’ sad, but… just don’t. Try n’ smile.” Ken offers some kind words but they do nothing. 

“Thank you. How much do I owe you?” You ask, reaching for your wallet. 

“Oh. Nothin’? Joel paid for it over th’phone this mornin’” Ken explains. 

“Oh– okay. Thank you again.” You thank the mechanic and jump into your truck. You text Joel immediately. 

Thanks. Didn’t need to do all that. I can pay you back.

You will pay him back if he has no intentions of seeing you again. You’ll drop an envelope with like four hundred dollars at his door and run away. Joel doesn’t text you back right away. You know he’s not working. Said he doesn’t have to until next week. So he is just ignoring you. Cool 

Joel doesn’t text you or call you for four days. You are fuming. So mad. Not sad anymore. Rage filled. But you only text him one thing on the fourth day and nothing else. 

Cool. 

And then you almost throw your phone against the wall but…you can’t afford a new phone and a laptop. Not even with Joel paying for the window. Your phone dings and it’s him. Your heart flutters until you open it. 

Sorry.

taglist: @immyowndefender @korikolove @untamedheart81 @fanficlover1414, @creepycorbeaux (i'll add or take you off, just let me know!)

[hes-back-from-the-dead]

Here are some different drafts and the process of working on my own poster for the SPO poster project! Long post below!

My initial concept was to have the poster be heavily grafitti'd as a sort of fun little gag towards my headcanon of the Snes and Wii iterations of him being different characters and how frequently the fandom bullies his design.

I then got sad cause I realized I'd put a lot of work into making the poster, and Aran himself, look really good and I didn't wanna hide either. So I decided to make it an open invitation for others to fuck around with their own posters!

I ended up being pretty indecisive on what I wanted to do for the graffiti itself- I had far too many ideas.

I obviously got the stache, brows, crossed eyes, and stink lines form the contender intro for Aran but I thought I'd add my own touches like silly shit people did in my server (playing tic tac toe on his massive forehead) and generally what I think Wii Aran would do to mock his counterpart.

The original iteration ended up too mean especially with all the fat comments, so switching them for more varied words ended up looking much better! 'Men gotta be fart, stupid, and hideous' is my favorite line.

To translate some other insults: Jackeen means a city person, usually mocking Dubliners. Dryshite just means boring.

In the final set, Wii Aran also has another piece of graffiti on the wall- it's meant to invoke spray paint but I didn't do too well here. This is far from the first time he's made a mockery of branch B's Aran and it won't be the last.

As for the plain poster- from the original, the biggest changes are the background of the portrait and his blurb. Yes I'm aware he has no ear holes I can't draw them I'm sorry.

I kinda HATE the way the background is tbh- the spo manual already makes everyone ugly as shit- there's no need to make it worse lmao.

I went with bricks spattered with dirt and blood to evoke a feeling of being in a back alley fight. My original attempt was garbage but then I found this simple brick brush that made my entire life easier.

I wanted to give him a black eye and bloody nose too but it ended up being too hard for me to figure out.

Tbh I don't like the original blurb- it feels clunky and empty all at once. I tried to go with a snappier rendition of the same main ideas while adding a bit of flair and appreciation for how he is in SPO.

The hardest bit of the whole process was probably figuring out all the strange quirks of the text. It looks good but damn is it hard to replicate.

My favorite part was playing around with all the layers and ways I could use effects- a filter or two really does a lot to add to the feeling of a poster. And for one last bit of funsies, here's the poster without any effects vs all of them. (I lost the version with highlighting on his face, whoops!)

I'm really happy with this piece and how quickly I finished it! I think it's a really good sign for my progress in digital art! If you've got questions, feel free to ask in the replies!

[hopefulromances]

Hi, I’m not sure if you’re requests are open so feel free to ignore this but if not, can you do a Jamie request where he and the reader are heavily in the “between friends and lovers” phase and Jamie ditches hanging out with the boys to spend the night with her when she turns down their invite cause she’s burnt out from work?

I'm in a writing mood so I'm going through so old requests in my inbox

Jamie sat in their booth, tracing a smiley face in the condensation that was growing on his beer. It was a Saturday night and he and the boys had gone out. He'd texted you to come with him when they'd left almost 30 minutes ago but he still hadn't heard back from you.

You and him were... close. He wasn't quite sure where he stood with you actually. He wasn't sure friends got drunk and made out on the couch but he didn't think girlfriends left in a hurry the next morning.

He didn't want you to leave. When he woke up, reaching out for your warm body, only to find himself alone, he'd been so disappointed. And the next time he'd seen you, you pretended it didn't happen. But all Jamie could think about was how you felt wrapped in his arms, lips feverishly moving against each other.

His phone buzzed and he grabbed for it a bit too quickly.

y/n <3: sorry, cant come out

jamie:everything alright?

y/n<3: yeah just tired, have fun

Jamie stared at your response, pursing his lips as he tapped the table anxiously.

"Jamie, if you shake your leg any fast, you're gonna cause and earthquake," Colin chuckled as he and Isaac slid back in across the booth.

Jamie didn't even realize he'd been shaking his leg. "Whoops, sorry mate." He glanced down at his phone again and made a decision. "Look, sorry guys, I think I've gotta go."

"What? You're ditching us?" Isaac barked in outrage. "We just got out here."

"Sorry, I owe you one," Jamie downed his beer and threw down some quid. "Next rounds on me."

And he was out the door.

...

You were laying on your couch, a heating pad on your stomach and an ice pack on your head. You had a movie on in the background but really you were just enjoying not standing on your feet. It had been a week. A long week. And most of all, you missed Jamie.

When you were especially busy at work you didn't get to see him a lot. But part of it was you avoiding him. You didn't want to be there the next morning when he sobered up and realized the mistake he'd made by kissing you. Then making out with you.

There was a knock at the door and you groaned, not moving from your spot. Whoever it was, they would have to come back another time. But after a moment, the knocking returned. You huffed and got up out of your very comfortable position to go open the door. Surprisingly, it was:

"Jamie?" you questioned, flipping on the porch light. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged and pulled out a bottle of prosecco. "Thought you could use a drink."

You stared at the alcohol in his hand. This couldn't be happening again. Was he trying to get you drunk so you'd be stupid enough to kiss him again?

"Jamie..." You bit your lip. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

As if he read your mind, his eyes widened. "Oh, shit. Fuck, no. That's not what I meant- we don't need to- fuck, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pavlov you."

"Pavlov me? What are you on about?" You scoffed, quirking an eyebrow.

"Keeley told me about Pavlov and the dog and whatever," he explained. "And I just brought you this cause I know you can't stand champagne and we don't even have to drink, I just wanted to-fuck I'm sorry."

You giggled at his flustered behavior. "It's okay, why don't you come inside."

You brought him inside and put the prosecco in the refrigerator, far from reach.

"Now, tell me, Jamie, why are you here?" you asked as you flopped down on the couch next to him.

He shrugged, pulling a pillow into his lap. "I wanted to make sure you were okay, is all. Missed you this week."

You felt your heart flutter. "I missed you, too."

He looked up at you. Somewhat surprised by your admission.

"I thought... I mean I hoped that after last week..."

"Jamie, let me stop you there," You cut him off. "You don't need to try and spare my feelings. I fucked up."

"You... fucked up?"

"Yeah. When I get drunk I get emotional and I let my stupid feelings get the better of me," you frowned, shaking your head. "But I care more about our friendship. So let's just pretend it never happened."

Now it was Jamie's turn to frown. "Your feelings?"

"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry," you averted your eyes from him. "It's stupid, I'll get over them. But let's lay off the prosecco until then ye-"

He grabbed your chin between his fingers and gently pulled you so you were forced to look at him. Your eyes widened, when did he get so close?

"(Y/N), do you like me?" His voice was low and husky.

Your eyes were so big as they looked back and forth between Jamie's grey ones. "Yes."

"Can I kiss you?"

What? He was fully sober asking if he could kiss me. But his grip on my chin was firm, yet gentle as he rubbed his thumb back and forth. You just nodded. He pulled you the rest of the way into him as he kissed you.

The last time you'd kissed, you'd both been bubbly and drunk. The kiss was sloppy and heated but this kiss... this kiss was slow and sweet. He took his time, moving his hand to cup your head in his hand, his fingers tangling in your hair. He moved his mouth slowly, each kiss lasting a moment longer than the last until he finally pulled back just a bit.

His eyes opened, meeting yours. You were breathless, longing for more. He kissed you one more time, shorter, like he was making sure he'd memorized the way your lips felt. When he pulled away, his eyes were still closed, a lazy smirk appearing on his face.

"That was..." you started.

"Good, really good," he finished, his eyes finally opening. "I mean, was it good for you?"

"Yes," you answered, a second too quickly. "Let's do it again."

He chuckled, pulling you into his lap. "Oh, we will be doing a lot of that from now on."

[smooth-perceval]

“My love, my life.”

“It’s okay- it was nothing important anyways.”

Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

PART THREE

Max Corner

Summary: [Max and reader crossed the line in their 3 year friendship, resulting in 2 positive pregnancy test. And 1 baby on the way.]

Max runs once again, leaving you questioning his true intentions. It wasn’t until Lando invited you along to Silverstone, home GP, you finally understand what’s going on.

Warnings: swearing, angst, Max being a dick, Max&Kelly together, fake relationship, mentions of J.Verstappen, Google translate, no proof read, my bad writing.

Key: Y/N (your name) Y/L/N (Your last name)

Word count: 3,256

A/N: So I put ‘Max&Kelly’ as a warning, not because I dislike any present or previous wags, it’s just like a pre warning that Max is not ‘solo’ I suppose- it’s just there so we’re not shocked when it happens. 🌝 Hope you enjoy 👀 let’s pretend the photo of Lissie is us 🙂

Well once again Max went awol… and I was finally washing my hands with him, the hot and cold, cat and mouse it wasn’t going to end well- it never does.

He won the Canadian GP, and out of pure kindness I sent him a congratulations message… only for it to be seen and not responded to.

That’s when I knew Max was only down for one thing- and every word he said was pure bullshit.

Lando kept me updated on everything happening around the paddock, a few times mentioning Max, sure I wanted to know how he was… what he was up to… why has he just left so much stuff unsaid… why the fuck is he leaving me in the dark- but instead of asking- I would simply type back a short message, or a little smile and nod of my head…

“Landiniho 🏎️”

I’m gonna ft in 5 x

Sending a quick reply, I held my phone nearby grabbing the tv remote and turning the volume down.

Within less that 5 minutes Lando was calling. And just as quickly I answered, both smiling wide at each other.

“Hey, what are you doing next week?”

“Hello to you to Lan-” laughing a little I then shrugged my shoulders picking at the cushion next to me. “Nothing planned- except watching your home race.” Smiling a little I side eyed him. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Quickly waving me off, I then noticed the background of where he was- he wasn’t even in his hotel room but sitting in the lobby.

“How about you come with me to Silverstone?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, before laughing a little.

“Come back home…?” Humming I titled my head- it seemed quite a simple answer… I could see my parents, visit some friends… and I can be with company instead of alone at home.

“Yeah, back home!” He sat up straight already knowing my answer.

“Okay, you’ll come with me to my parents right?…” he nodded his head quickly.

“I haven’t seen them in ages… so your gonna definitely come?”

“Yes, I suppose soooo…” rolling my eyes playfully with a smile.

“Okay good! I’ll sort everything out just get packed cause I kinda need to fly you out like tomorrow…” nodding my head slowly, “I’ll have to bring all my work stuff Lan- laptop the lot…” mumbling I start shuffling some paperwork together.

“That’s fine- just get pac- yeah?” He turned away from the camera looking over at someone else.

“Yeah- she is coming to Silverstone…” furrowing my eyebrows my eyes darted around the screen to try and see who his talking to.

“No. Call her yourself.” Lando moved his phone now I was looking over his shoulder at the seat behind him.

“No.”

“Lan- what’s going on.” Quickly moving the phone back to his face.

“I’ll text you the details- I’ve gotta go… Max fuck of-” the call ended, leaving me sitting there confused and in shock.

Lando was right he can call me himself… why wouldn’t he just pick up his own phone and dial my number… dickhead.

Shaking my head I tossed my phone aside going upstairs to start packing, I packed enough for a week, hoping to spend enough time with family, and packing a separate bag for all my work stuff. The perks of working from home!

Within the hour Lando sent me all the details over telling me he will meet me at the airport, him only arriving around 30 minutes before me.

When laying in bed I could only think what Max had wanted… why was he trying to take Lando’s phone, why couldn’t he just call me himself or even text… I tossed and turned before finally rocking myself to sleep. I guess I’ll soon find out.

** 6:15 A.M **

The sound of my alarm cracked through my dreams pulling me back to reality, my eyes slowly opening and adjusting to the light creeping in my room.

Switching the alarm off I slowly climbed out of my bed getting ready for the airport. I should’ve gone to bed earlier… my body ached- and I felt my stomach churn, making quick effort to go down and get my anti-sickness tablets taking one and stuffing the rest in my carry on.

Anti-sickness tablets are like my breakfast at the moment… the first thing I take when I wake up. It’s now somewhat a routine, this baby is really doing it’s number on me, if I wasn’t tired all the time and being sick, I was angry or crying…

Now I’m sitting at roughly 8 or 9 weeks, a few more weeks and I get to see the baby again- and I cannot wait. It’s crazy to think what a woman’s body is capable of doing-

I was away with the fairy’s while walking through the airport, checking my suitcases e.t.c, e.t.c. I could only imagine what it will be like when I’m home with my parents, seeing Lando again, old friends… hopefully Max.

Just to know what went on- what I did wrong to make him ignore me like he has… just curious.

When on the plane I got some extra sleep, not that I could help it. Like I said I am exhausted all the time… I dozed off as soon as I put my seatbelt on, missing the takeoff and only woke up just before landing. And even now I could just shut my eyes again…

Widening my eyes forcing them awake, I rubbed my face looking out the window.

Back in England, it was summertime here… and it was lovely.

As soon as I left the plane I felt the sun kiss my cheeks.

Perfect.

I sent Lando a message saying I had landed and asking where to meet him, but as soon as I looked up from my phone he was already waiting there at the gate. Cap pulled down, sunglasses on, and even in this weather a hoodie pulled right up to try and cover as much of his face as possible.

Smiling a little I rushed over to him arms open wide forgetting my suitcases and bags behind me as they cluttered to the floor.

“Back home babbyyy!” Gripping him tightly, he let out a laugh practically throwing us side to side, before resting me back onto my feet.

“Welcome home.” He smiled once again, and as if we was little kids we both started jumping on the spot, falling back into a tight embrace “oh I’ve missed it.” Pulling away I ran over collecting my items, following Lando out the airport.

The whole time telling him all the new things I’ve discovered with the pregnancy. Like morning sickness really isn’t just ‘morning sickness.’ Well I mean I new that weeks ago… but still. It should be called any time of the day sickness.

Lando chipped in asking little questions here and there, before the big question landed.

“What’s Max been like with it all? Has he been encouraging?” Nudging me with a slight tease in his voice. But it only cause my smile to drop slowly.

“I haven’t heard from him…” Lando spun around from facing the car staring at me. “You haven’t? Didn’t you guys sort it all a few weeks ago?” I started chewing at my bottom lip nervously, quickly thanking one of the airport staff for putting my bags in the car.

“Sort of…” I wiped my hands on myself, clearing my throat and climbing into the car. Ignoring the stare off Lando.

“Sort of?” As if he knew the answer he shook his head.

“So you went back to square one.”

“Lan I don’t need the lecture. It was my own fault this time.” Sighing I rubbed my temple leaning my head against the window.

“I’m not… okay, sorry. I’m sorry.” Touching my arm gently I turned looking at him, before he pulled me into a hug. “It’s gonna be alright you know.” I only responded with a slightly nod of my head. “Just wish he would want this as much as I do… but I can’t force him…”

Rubbing my back gently he pulled away with a reassuring smile. “His just an odd guy, I’m sure his just worried okay… but you can do this.”

Pausing for a moment “Y/N and uncle Lando right?”

Laughing a little I nod my head. “Yes, yes unless I give the rights to Charles”

Lando let out a fake gasp before leaning back in his seat. “Don’t ever threaten my uncle rights again.” Smiling to myself I looked back out the window. The driver slowly pulling away.

Lando slept most of the journey- and sure I was a little nosey when his phone kept going off… side eyeing it, I see Max blowing his phone up… and I could only wish it was mine- even at the sight of his name, I felt tingles all over my body. Like his touched had once burned on me.

Sighing at myself, I shuffled closer to Lando resting my head against his shoulder. Slowly closing my eyes and letting my worries got with it.

My worries being facing Max.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-” repeatedly with each time he said my name Lando poked my forehead.

Flinching slightly when he poked again I sat up slowly rubbing my eyes.

“Your so fucking annoying…” my voice was hoarse and barely audible from the sleep.

“We’re here!” Smiling excitedly he climbs out the car quickly, first thought was him going over to fans and taking photos.

Sighing once again I make sure I looked like hadn’t just woken up- before climbing out behind him, I start helping getting out bags out, when Lando comes over quickly grabbing both the heavy suitcases.

“You can’t lift heavy things remember-”

Rolling my eyes and smiling, I pull the handle of my suitcases up and roll into the hotel, giving a few small waves to shouting fans of Lando’s.

Finally getting up to my room, Lando only a few doors down. I flopped onto the bed letting out a happy groan, from my aching body.

Pulling my phone out I read some messages, before going into insta and putting a post up.

@YOURINSTAGRAMNAME.

Liked by landonorris and 244,873 others

@YOURINSTAGRAMNAME. -

Sky was painted for you Landiniho 🧡

Comments have been turned off.

And finally I was able to relax, I planned on visiting my parents after Sundays race, as everything leading up to then is crazy- and I didn’t want to drag Lando down to them while the weekend commenced.

It wasn’t long before Lando was knocking the door and demanding I opened it.

“What?” Annoyed I glared at him the door nearly hitting the wall as I pulled it open.

“I’m hungry, let’s go eat-” if he wasn’t offering food I probably would have strangled him… however he did, so he dodge a bullet.

In silence I grabbed my room key, phone, and other necessities before following Lando down to the elevator. “Can we go to the lovely restaurant down the road?” Looking over at Lando excitedly, smiling he nodded his head pressing for the ground floor. And as if on cue my belly started to grumble. Which only made us both burst into laughter.

Dinner was lovely, me and Lan spent the evening joking around and just enjoying company of one another- it washed away all my nerves, and I finally felt at ease being back home.

With arms linked we took a slow walk back to the hotel, and just for once I felt like the world seemed to get off my shoulders.

“Don’t you ever think to move back home? And raise the baby here?”

I come to an abrupt stop before continuing to walk with him- like I was reseted. “I never thought of it…” mumbling quietly to him I rest my head against his arm. “Monaco is my home too-”

“But- I mean this in the nicest way…”

Stopping himself he turns looking down at me. “You have nobody in Monaco.”

And there it was, the weight of the world again, I know he means well but it was sure a kick in the gut when he said it…

“I have you?”

“I’m not always there-”

“I’m fine, by myself.”

“But what about if you ever need anyone? What about when you go into labour?” Lando started walking again arm slung over my shoulders.

“I do have some friends there.”

“Friends that you can trust with your baby?”

Humming, I look down at the floor as we walk, he had a point… who am I trying to kid- I wouldn’t trust anyone but him or family with my baby… let alone some friends I see once in a blue moon.

“Maybe it’s something to think about…” sighing I then look up at the stars in the sky, questioning which person I have pissed off to cause this much chaos in my life.

“I just want you to be happy Y/N” he gestured for me to go into the lobby first before following behind. “That’s all I ever want for you.” Smiling over my shoulder at him j waisted for him to walk next to me before bumping shoulders.

“As do I, you deserve the world Lan.”

We finally separated at our doors, Lando disappearing down the hall once I was in my room- I took a shower and got into bed ready for this weekend and what it’s to bring, because I got myself a friend called Lando, and with Lando I felt okay.

**FRIDAY FREE PRACTICE**

I was panicking, I could potentially bump into Max today- and the way my hormones are going I’d probably end up crying if I even catch a glance of him…

Staring at myself in the mirror, I smoothed out my orange shorts, tilting my head before turning to the side. Shaking my head smiling to myself- I leave the bathroom grabbing my bag, phone, room key- and whatever else I thought may come in handy.

Agreeing to meet Lando in reception, I made my way out to the elevator trying to be as quiet as possible- seeing as how early it was in the morning.

Humming quietly to myself I waited for the elevator to arrive. Swaying slightly to my own song in my head-

“Oh hi-” glancing over my shoulder there he was.

In all his glory- Max.

And weirdly enough I felt nothing… I felt no anger, no sadness, no happiness. Nothing for him right now. So with a tight lipped smile, I whispered a hello before turning back to the elevator.

“I’ve er- I’ve wanted to talk to you…” he stepped forward standing next to me, at a distance that screams more than friendship-

“Oh really? What about?” Biting my lip praying the elevator arrives sooner rather that later.

“It’s more of a private matter…” looking around as if he was nervous of getting caught- which only caused me to look around also.

“Well, I’m sure it was nothing important otherwise you would’ve-” my voice soon trailed off and my mouth just went slack. Behind Max slowly walking towards us was her… and just like that a fire ignited within me.

My eyes had the same fire burning in them as I glared back at Max, who’s colour was slowly draining from his face. “Never mind I can see now you’ve been occupied.” Looking back over at Kelly, who only had a lovely smile on her face as she linked her arm with Max.

The elevator pinged, breaking the silence- moving myself forward to step in I look over at max and Kelly before taking a large step back.

“You both take this one- I just realised I’ve lost something…” tapping over myself, trying to seem like I was genuine. Kelly only smiled once more before stepping in.

“You need help finding it?” Kelly looked around the elevator floor, as Max stood outside- eyes still glued onto me.

Looking over at her I offered her a smile and shake of my head- then turning to look at Max. Eyes fixated onto each other.

“It’s okay- it was nothing important anyways.” I felt my lip tremble slightly, quickly biting down on it and rushing away with my head down.

Clearly he found his distraction… and was it weird that I wanted it to be me?

Rushing to the stairs I raced down praying I would beat the elevator.

Out of breath and panting I ran over to Lando in reception grabbing his arm and dragging him to the exit.

“Y/N slow down-” laughing a little Lando pulled back- which only made me tug harder at his arms-

The elevator ping sounded through reception- my eyes focused on the doors as Max hurriedly stepped out leaving Kelly behind.

“Please Lando can we just g-”

“Y/N I need to talk to you.” As if in sync me and Lando both looking over at max, who was practically jogging through reception.

“I have nothing to say to you.” Giving up with Lando I hurriedly walked away towards the exit. Why did it hurt so much that he was with Kelly?

Because there’s no way you kiss someone the way he kisses me and it not mean anything- yet being with found with another woman probably giving her the same bullshit excuses… was a kick to the gut.

I knew he was chasing me- even if he was a few feet behind I felt his presence- the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. My heart was telling me to stop running from him and let him talk. But my head told me to keep going- and I did.

I got into the car that was waiting on me and Lando locking the door behind me and leaning over locking the drivers side.

Until he finally gave up. Well I say gave up Lando practically forced him away. And once he was out of sight I finally opened the door again for Lando.

“Can we not talk about him.” Looking at the dash in front of me. I felt sick, maybe even numb at this point. We spent two unforgettable nights with one another, his been one of my closest friends for years- maybe a warning would’ve been nice that it didn’t mean as much to him as it did me- then I wouldn’t of had my flame of hope burned out- and reigniting with anger and jealousy.

I hate her- I hate that he chose her, what was so wrong about me? Why doesn’t he want me the same way I want him? I can’t force him to love me- so why am I so worked up over something so stupid?

“Let’s get the race weekend started aye?” Looking over at Lando he offered an encouraging smile- hand reaching over snd squeezing mine.

Lando is like a comfort blanket- or a teddy bear, you know the type you get when your young and you find yourself seeking it out every single night and day for solitary comfort. Lando was my teddy bear.

“Let’s go get you your win.” Squeezing his hand back I smiled up at him- sure the smile didn’t reach my eyes- and my eyes they didn’t twinkle like diamonds- but he knew I meant what I said and he knew I was there supporting him no matter what.

And Max? Pft what’s the point of crying over something that wasn’t even mine in the first place.

A/N: Soooooo I don’t know- it was long awaited that’s for sure I just had terrible writers block- and you can even tell in some parts I wasn’t giving enough- buttttt on with the next chapter.

FYI MAX REDEEMS HIMSELF.

Masterlist

[scoops404]

↻ dream for honestly any part of anagnorosis

↻FLIP FLOP:send me a scene from one of my fics and I’ll describe or write it from another character’s POV!

Under the cut!

He knows before the call comes through that it's not good news. Truthfully, he's had a plane ticket in his cart for the last twenty minutes just ready to push pay while he waits to hear from Sapnap. It's just--there's something wrong. George has been blowing hot and cold, endlessly needy and shameless about it and then closed off and tight lipped, but they've always done well with distance. And this time, the distance has been good for them. They've been talking more in the last two weeks than they have since before they hooked up.

It's been... well, it's been alarming in some ways because Dream sees the parallels to the last time they were like this--the last time in London when George was majorly depressed but wouldn't accept it or talk about it or do anything but the exact directions Dream would give him in order to stay alive: eat, shower, sleep, work.

Maybe he shouldn't have gone to LA. Maybe he should have stayed and forced George to talk to him. But he knows how George gets when he thinks he's cornered. It's one step forward and ten steps back.

"Dream," Sapnap says when he picks up. "Bro, you gotta--it's bad. You gotta come home."

"Nick, what's--what's wrong?" Dream asks, and then a sick feeling comes over him. He can hear a siren in the background and he just knows that it's George. "Did he--did he hurt himself?"

"No," Sapnap says quickly, he sounds a bit distracted. "No, he didn't. He--but he's hurt. I found him in his bathroom unconscious."

"Nick?" Dream says and--oh god, his voice is--he can hear how raw he sounds. He feels like a child again--no control over the situation and on the other side of the country from his--from the love of his life. From George, who needs him.

God, he's been so stupid.

"Come home," Sapnap says with authority in his voice. For once, Dream listens to it. "I'm going with him to the hospital. I'll keep you updated."

"Okay," Dream says and hangs up. He presses purchase and then he pulls up his Uber app. There's no time.

He pays for inflight wifi so that he can get and respond to Sapnap's sporadic texts. Dream also sends his mom over to the hospital, a tearful phone call in the Uber that he hopes no one ever leaks.

Five hours. He has to be on this plane for five hours while George--while George is in pain. Unconscious. What could have caused him to pass out? Dream's brain jumps from undiagnosed brain tumor to cancer to an intruder in their home to low blood sugar from now eating enough. He keeps himself off of reddit, off of webMD because that's--for once he knows that's not helpful. He can't watch any movies, he can't listen to music. He just sits there, rawdogging it, mind spinning over and over and trying to keep the panic at bay.

What would he even do in a world without George?

When the plane lands, Dream's not embarrassed about pushing and shoving to the front of the line to deplane. he has no carryon, no bag to pick up in baggage claim, he's going to sprint to the uber line and then go straight to the hospital.

Panting in the back of the Uber, he finds a text from his mom saying the doctors won't talk to her or Sapnap, but she thinks they'll talk to him. Sapnap told them something that means they'll share info with Dream, and he wants to give Sapnap the biggest hug in the world when he sees him. Fuck, he's a bad liar but his friend comes through when it counts.

"Good luck, man," the Uber driver says when Dream jumps out of the car. Maybe picking someone up at the airport and dropping them at the hospital is a glaring sign that the person in your backseat isn't doing all that well. Dream thanks him perfunctorily.

His mom finds him at the front door and brings him to the nurse station to explain who he is.

"Ah, the father," she says sagely and then starts pulling him into a room.

What?

He turns to ask his mother what the nurse means and her eyes are tearful, a sad smile on her face and he realizes--oh. He's the father.

He's someone's father?

George is here and Dream is a father and that means...

He's never been great at math, not like George, not on tests or theoretical things that don't matter. But this? He can do that math.

"We need to know your son's name," the nurse says in a no nonsense tone and Dream almost blacks out.

[highhhfiveee]

okay, this has been my literal roman empire. what if gf!y/n and abby are having a little karaoke moment to a song and mike walks in and sees both of them together, and you can write the rest.

i don’t know why but i can’t stop thinking about it.

remember to take care of yourself 🫶🫶

karaoke therapy

a "to crumble" ficlet.

original fic: 🩹 / additional ficlet, facetime: 🤳🏽

wc: 2k tags: "to crumble" mike and reader, foreshadowy fluff (: pretty cute stuff that hurts in retrospect 💔 a/n: this is so very cute (,: but alas, for "to crumble" mike and reader, this is but a thing of the past.

you come over to watch abby on a friday night so you're able to stay with her and mike for the entirety of saturday. your weekends are usually occupied by grading since you're nearing the end of the fall semester, but you're forcing time with abby and mike into your schedule because it's what you really want. life wasn't all about work and bills and adulting; you could do the things you enjoyed if you planned for it and so you did.

you'd driven over with enough haste to get you pulled over, toting enough stuff to last you a day and your excitement, large and beaming brightly in your demeanor. you were jittery walking up the drive, shaking out the anxiety in your body as you knock on the door.

abby answers the door, causing you to shift your gaze downward. she's already in her pajamas, the cute, pink bunny slippers you got her for her birthday donned on her feet. she smiles at you, opening the door further so you can step inside. "hi, y/n. you're just in time, mike made lasagna."

"yeah, it's on the stove. it's slightly burnt," mike calls from down the hall, walking into the living room as he slips his arms through the holes of his security vest. "but we'll say crispy on top instead. hi, baby." he grabs your face, pulling you into a couple small pecks, ones he backs away from with a lazy smile. you twist your lips, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. you and mike hadn't been dating for long, a short but serious four months, and you always felt so dizzy when you saw him, bewildered at the fact that he was your boyfriend. he was so sweet, so caring, hard-working, and unlike anyone you'd dated before. he worked so hard to provide for abby and change his future, and it made your attraction to him greater. he wanted you in that future, and it excited you for what was to come.

"gotta leave so soon?" you pout. mike's eyes soften as you caress his cheek, sighing as he reaches down for his bag.

"unfortunately. traffic's bad tonight, there was a huge crash and i gotta take backroads, howeverrrrr," mike ruffles abby's hair, causing her to grumble and gives you one last kiss, the dreamy, far-off look in his eyes accompanied with a lip bite, "i will see you both tomorrow morning, bright and early. have fun, and goodnight."

mike gives abby a kiss on the top of her head before he exits to his car, and you close the door behind you, dropping your duffle onto the floor. "okay," you announce, placing your hands on your bent knees as you turn to abby. "lasagna while we play board games or do karaoke?"

karaoke wins by a landslide. abby's been loving to sing recently, starting to get more comfortable with her growing vocals. she really only shows it to you, and ever since you've showed her karaoke, you've encouraged her to have fun and try different things; different inflections, tones, anything else she feels like she could do to make it her own. you loved to see her blossom singing in front of the brightly colored, ever-changing lyrics, using her hairbrush as a microphone.

you use your own too, setting it down on the coffee table to take a bite of lasagna and garlic bread while you watch abby sing along to call me maybe. she rocks on her heels in front of the tv, eyes tracking alongside the moving text.

you encourage her between forkfuls, providing her with background vocals and hype, giving her an "okay!" once she gets to the prechorus. she begins to dance, bouncing around the space between the coffee table and the tv. she gives her all to the chorus, making a good attempt at belting the notes.

"you sound so good, abs," you praise, wiping your mouth off on a napkin before grabbing the remote to change the karaoke video. "here, let's try some other ones. eat some food while i find them, 'kay?"

meanwhile, mike is sat in his car, idling behind others on the backroad he decided to take. traffic on these roads had increased because of the crash on the freeway, and there was no way he was getting to work any time soon. he'd been sitting bumper to bumper with these cars for about ten minutes, and he feels irritation creeping up into him, tapping his fingers against the wheel and leaning his head into the palm of his hand, elbow resting on the window. not even listening to the radio helps him, and eventually he just turns it off, succumbing to the sound of bad brakes and purring engines.

his mind floats away with thoughts of you, and how happy you looked he saw you at the house, all giddy and excited to be there. he loved you, loved when you were around. abby did too. you'd both agreed that your presence made the house feel complete, and that's all mike could think about, wondering how to bring up the question he'd been dwelling on for the past few weeks.

he should be home, on the couch watching tv with you and abby, or eating dinner, sat at the table and talking about your days and what hopes you had for the future. what things you found interesting. interacting like humans, having real moments; being present. mike had trouble with that, sleeping so much to keep up with the demand of working overnight. he tried to be there for abby as much as he could, helping her with her homework and making sure she was fed and feeling okay after her school days, but sometimes he felt like it was just an autonomous thing he did, moving on autopilot. the days blended together until you entered the equation, completely breaking up the monotony in his life with your being.

he should be home, not sitting in between all these aluminum machines, breathing in the acrid smells of oil and gasoline.

"fuck it," mike mutters, checking his blinds before pulling a turn off the main road and making his way around all the traffic, heading back towards the house.

freddy's was locked. no one would be around to do anything, no one ever was, and he was sure that it would be fine if he missed one night. he speeds back home, gripping the steering wheel with intent. he has people to get to, time to spend with the ones he loves. life's too short, he ruminates, and there's never enough time for moments of happiness like the ones he gets from you and abby.

he pulls into the driveway, exiting the car with the same jaunty energy you had earlier and unlocking the door with zeal. "decided to come back home. traffic wa---"

"my loneliness...is killing me,"

"and i...."

"i must confess, i still believe..."

"still believe!" you point your index finger to the sky as you hit the note, giggling along with abby as she attempts it too. "when i'm not with you, i lose my mind...give me a signnnnnnnnn," you're spinning around with your brush clutched in both hands, eyes closed and body fully invested in the music. mike doesn't think he's heard you sing before, not so solemnly like this. your voice is beautiful.

"hit me baby---oh jeez, mike!" you squeal in time to the music as abby finishes out the chorus, turning to face her brother as well. he's just staring at you two, jovially twisted lips and crossed arms and this twinkling look in his eye that makes you squirm. no one's ever looked at you like that, and you replace your hairbrush with the remote, stopping the video.

"sorry, i'm just...helping abby expand her iconic pop song repertoire. gotta start with one of the classics." abby nods as mike waves off your apology, setting his bag next to yours on the floor. "yeah, y/n is introducing me to such great songs. i'm really enjoying britney spears. what was that other song we did?"

"toxic," you reply, tucking your hair behind your ear. "that was a really fun one."

"uh huh, it was! it was all---" abby mimics the whiny synth strings, causing mike to laugh, coming around to the front of the couch. he wraps his arm around your waist, twirling you to face him. you place both of your hands on his shoulders, gazing deeply into his content eyes. "let me hear more of your singing, abs," he asks, and she starts the video up again, pretending the small sliver of space where she stands is a professional stage.

mike begins to sway your bodies, slowly waltzing you around as abby's untrained voice soundtracks your dance. "don't know why you were apologizing. hearing and watching you two have fun is the greatest thing ever, baby. love seeing you spend time together."

you blush, ducking your head into his collarbone. "it's just a silly thing i do by myself at home. guess i kinda got abby super interested in it...lots of fun though. lots of fun."

mike is quiet for a while, spinning you around gently. you can feel his heartbeat through his clothes, speed up-ticking with every second. he's looking down on you, watching your eyelash flutter with each serene blink you take, then looking at abby, who's searching through other karaoke videos and humming the melody of baby one more time with a bob of her head.

all mike can feel right now is this moment. he feels every second pass, overly-conscious to the fact that he's living and breathing in this instant. this was the present he'd always wanted to be in, and he doesn't want to let go of it. he wants this forever. his question gnaws at him, chewing away at his stomach, and he finally just blurts it out.

you're about to pull away from him to ask him if he's okay when he whispers, "move in with us." you're taken aback, raising from his chest and staring at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips wrinkled.

"mike.."

"you don't have to answer right now," he clarifies, sighing as he shakes his head. "i meant to ask it as a question, i'm sorry." you chuckle, reaching your fingers up into the hair at the nape of his neck. "just...let me know if you want to. i love having you here, abby loves having you here. i know it's still pretty early for us but...we could be a bona fide family, the three of us."

you squeeze mike a little tighter, a sort of answer to his question. there wasn't anything stopping you, truly. his house was closer to the school you worked at, and you could drop abby off at her school in the mornings so mike could get enough rest to pick her up in the afternoons. you could have home-cooked dinners, and spend the weekends together, taking abby to art museums and libraries, theme parks and other attractions.

you really could be a family. you were still young, your relationship with mike moderately fresh, but...the idea sounded nice.

"think about it," mike instructs, pulling away from you and ducking down to look at your obscured face. "no rush, okay?" he steps away from you after giving you a kiss to the forehead, grabbing for your hairbrush. a video for i'm like a bird by nelly furtado has started playing, and mike saddles up to abby, hip bumping her as he prepares to sing. "gonna be your backup singer, that okay?"

"yeah, yeah, just do it well! c'mon, c'mon it's starting! you're beautiful, that's for sure..." you take a seat on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest as you watch and listen, giggling along to mike's off-pitch ad-libs and timing mistakes. abby squeals at him, bursting into a fit of laughter and incorrect lyrics as he tickles at her torso.

you could get used to this, you think. maybe moving wouldn't be so bad.

how cute for it to all just go ka-blammy (,: going to write a part 2 for "to crumble" and i know y'all said y'all wanted it sweet but hmmmm...i think we need some angst. just stay tuned 🤞🏽

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites

[stefanmikaleson1864]

I’m here for you

Joe Velasco X Reader 

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this !! If you like my work please comment like and reblog it means a lot to see interactions on my work. 

Y/N POV 

Me and Joe had this will they wont they thing going on for a while now. You felt like the vibes were there but it was hard because he was a quiet guy. 

You also were a little reserved so no one had the guts to talk to each other. But slowly by surely the two of you opened up to each other. Talking and texting every chance you got.

It had only been a couple of months and you were head over heels in love.  

Lately thought he had gone through a rough patch and you were trying to be there for him without stepping on toes.

 Olivia our captain was against me even talking to him. Which i personally didn’t understand. 

I Mean I know what he was accused of but i think we all deserve the benefit of the doubt.

 I mean just become someone decided to secretly record an interview we should all turn on him. I feel like he deserved to tell his side of the story. 

I let everyone in the unit how I was feeling about the situation which was causing a lot of heat in the unit. 

“Y/N what did I tell you about staying away” Captain Benson asked. 

“All i did was text him to make sure he was doing that’s all” I said 

“You disobeyed my orders i told you flat out no communication” She said 

“I didn’t ask about the case or anything he’s my friend I ‘m not going to turn my back on him especially when he needs people now” I said in a defensive manner. 

Cap just looked at me and I could tell she was trying to find the right next words to say to me. 

“Listen to me I am saying this because you are a great detective and you have a great career ahead of you and you need to stay focused okay” She told me 

The words she said to me kind of irritated me a little bit but i kept my composer and bit my tongue. I didn’t want to start a fight and cause more tension. 

“I understand cap” was all you could muster out at the moment. 

“Your dismissed the days over just go home and get some rest and think about what I said.” She said. 

“Yes Ma’am thank you” I said 

She put her glasses on and started pulling some papers out of her giant stack she had and started focusing on them. 

Finn and Amanda both looked at me with worried look on their faces. I think when I walked out I looked a little mad and upset. 

“You know she’s right you just gotta focus on you at the moment” Amanda said 

Something in you broke a little and what ever you had been pushing down had worked it way up.

Because you looked over at them sitting in their desk and then spoke out 

“I find that a bit ironic considering your history of dating you and Nick Aamaro and then getting pregnant by Lt Murphy who you were under by the way. Me and Velscao are friends and im finding it pretty messed up that were just supposed to turn our back on a friend” You snapped. 

Finn looked surprised as hell and Amanda was taken back and not sure on what to say next. Which you didn’t even bother giving her the chance.

You quickly gathered your stuff and then headed out. In the background you heard Finn say 

“Just let go and let’s go home” He said 

You walked out the squad room and headed downstairs. You were to worked up to even wait for the elevator. 

You ran down the stairs and then headed out the front door. The fresh air hitting you in the face made you instantly feel a little better. You just headed to the car and threw your stuff in. 

You didn’t even think about going home you just began driving. You tried to clear your head to make you feel a little better. ]

Your stomach started growling and you decided to stop for some dinner. There was a local diner that Joe introduced you to. 

You pulled up and got out and walked in . It was pretty quiet and you were thankful for not having to deal with people. 

You sat in the booth you and Joe always sat in. You were looking at the menu but not really even paying attention. 

You tried to push back frustration tears from everything going on. Suddenly a man wearing a hoodie sat across from you which scared the crap out of you

“Omg what the hell” You asked 

You heard a familiar laugh and then calmed down immediately when you realized who it was. 

“Joe what the hell are you doing here” You asked 

You looked up at him he gave you a sad look. 

“I guess i just wanted to see you”  He said 

“Yeah me to but how did you know I was here” You asked 

“Because I know you I figured you were just getting off of work and was probably hungry so you came here and sat in our booth” Joe said 

You blushed and smiled at him knowing you so well. Or were you that predictable you thought 

“How are you with everything” You asked 

“It’s been hard you know having to turn on Chilli and not also you know” Joe said

“ you know what” You asked 

“Not being able to talk to you. You have no idea how long I have been wanting to talk to you and see you it killed me” Joe said

“It’s not fair that Cap thinks she can just dictate our personal lives you know I missed you to a lot I have been wanting to see you It killed me too not beng able to see you” You told him. 

“I don’t want to bring you down with me” Joe said 

“You wouldn’t do that I’m here for everything the good and the bad” You said grabbing his hand. 

He took your hand and looked up at you and smiled and gave your hand a squeeze. 

“I’m here for you always” you said to him 

“I know and that’s the problem he said

Your face kind of dropped and it was hard not to feel hurt. 

Joe noticed your face and took his other hand and grabbed your free one and squeezed both of them together. 

“It’s not like that i don’t wanna drag you down with me I love you to much” He said 

You gave him a surprised look followed by a smile 

“You love me” You questioned 

He laughed a little bit.

“I’m being serious” you said pouting 

“I know me to I’m trying to tell you I love you. Like more than friends you know and I don’t wanna be the reason your career goes up in flames” He said 

“Listen here Joe Velscao” you said 

“Oh my whole government name it’s serious” Joe said smiling 

“Shut the hell up and listen I love you so much and you are the best part of me and I am a better person and detective because of you know and I know it’s only been a couple of month but when you know you know and I just know” You said rambling towards the end. 

Joe leaped towards you and kissed you hard. You kissed him back and you were both smiling in each other’s faces. 

The kiss broke and he sat down. 

“Listen Y/N i love you so much and like you said when you know you know and I do feel that way about you which is why I wanna protect you” Joe said 

“I’m here i’m a big girl we are going to figure this out together but you gotta tell me the truth that stuff you said in the tapes was it true” You asked 

“Yeah it is but to a point i’m clean I never touched drugs ever but with the dad and son Chilli covered my ass and I owe that to him to help and try and cover his” Joe said 

“I know you feel like that but you also know what ever is going on in the past you gotta close the wound and it should be on your time not anyones else’s okay but you know what the right thing to do is” You said 

“I know I know your right and i know what i gotta do i just don’t the accusations and the rush to judgement” Joe said 

“I get that and I agree that’s not fair to you and you shouldn’t have to prove who you are after all the hard work you been doing. But this is where we are so you need to go and sit down and talk to Oliva and be honest with everything and let the cards fall where they do” You said 

“Yeah you're probably right and I know it’s just hard actually doing it” Joe said 

“I will go in with you tomorrow okay i got you. You won’t go in there alone.” You said 

“Thank you” Joe said squeezing my hand

“Now let’s eat I’m hungry that’s the whole reason why i’m here” You said laughing 

“Yes Ma’am” Joe said 

The waitress came back over and the two of you ordered. Of course she knew what you were getting because it was the same old thing. 

“So uh after this little confession is this considered a date” You asked 

Joe’s face lit up red and he looked up at you and smiled. 

“Nah trust me you deserve a much better place than this for our first official date” He said 

“Oh you don’t know what you just walked yourself into. Because i am going to take you to the most expensive restaurant i can in New York” You said laughing 

“Oh you the person who orders the most basic food ever you wouldn’t even eat the nice food so good luck with that” Joe said laughing 

“Don’t worry about me” You said smirking. 

You both couldn’t contain your laughter of that. Joe really loosened up and relaxed and you both dropped the work conversation after that. T

alking about everything from your favorite shows you would watch together. 

The food came out just a little bit later and you both shoved your faces with food. It was either really good or you were really hungry.

The rest of the night you both laughed and talked. You also couldn’t help but wonder how Liv was going to take you defying her orders but that didn’t matter right now. 

Because there is no one else you would rather be with than Joe. Nothing could keep the two of you apart from each other. 

No matter what happed the two of you would always be there for each other 

[belgianfry]

FAVE CREATORS ART CHALLENGE: @nataliescatorccio edition

of course i have to mention the queen herself 😌 bebebo your skills are unparalleled and i love that this is giving me a chance to squee at you once more hehe <3

(tho having to choose my faves was SO difficult!!)

so i want to start with a simpler set: this one. this rich red is so damn stunning and i'm always in awe of your coloring skills and how you manage to make colors look the same in every gif!! (as a gifmaker i know that's hard to achieve) this is the same as i told jagoda, you both have such an excellent way of coloring backgrounds and making it so smooth?? you both have achieved the highest level in frame by frame coloring tbh. i bow to you.

and if i could i'd link all your similar sets you've made because they're all gorgeous. and i hate saying they're simple because there's no blending because they're not actually easy to make?? you make them look effortless though. i admire that so much.

obviously gotta mention this set. the way you used the ripped paper effect is genius. to split two gifs into one and use the older/younger versions?? phew. i'm also in love with this pale green coloring. that first gif is my fave of this set, it's so damn good.

this set has some incredible blending!! seamless triple blends??? i'm on the floor. i love what you did with the text as well, so clever. and that beautiful pink omg, it pops! if i had to pick one fave i think i'd say the first one, i just love the composition.

yet another stunning set is this one. i looooove when you use two colors instead of just one because you always pick such good combos. you really have an eye for it (i know i already told you this but i'll repeat it cause IT'S THE TRUTH). the effects are so cool, the one with all the vinyls is so creative. your fontwork is also exquisite, so many different ones but it still all matches together and vibes.

i love me a good timeline gifset and this one is no different. the blending is superb. gorgeous coloring, it's pale yet they're not looking washed out which is always a struggle lol. looooove the fonts. the fact that in the first gif you triple blend on such a small surface? i have no words. why it doesn't have 10k notes i will never understand.

all your posts for rhaenicent week have been incredible i'll be honest but i can't talk about all of them haha. you've been so productive this year! but yeah this set i think might be my fave of this week? the transitions with the little squares is soooo beautiful and clever. i shall definitely steal it for a set in the future 😂 but your coloring omg?? that blue and purple and white. sooooooo pretty!!!

of course i have to mention this set. i have not mentioned your sense of humor yet which is a shame cause i love your funny sets :D i love the little notes you added hehe, roast him! i'm in love with the bigger font, it's stunning. the blending is once more, unbelievably good.

there's another bridgerton set of yours i loooove. the colors just have me on the floor, they're SO gorgeous. the blending is insane, i especially love the first gif. and then all the fonts omg?? you really let yourself go and i could not love it more!!!! never thought this amount of fonts would look good and yet.

next up: this beauty. the amount of details in this is incredible. the layout is so fun and i love the little logos you added for each episode. the rainbow coloring?? gorgeouuuuuus.

i have a soft spot for this set because it's so innovative. where do you keep finding all those ideas for creative sets truly?? i need to pick your brain!!! i particularly love the 2nd & 4th gifs, the b&w and the shapes and the typography make for an unbelievable ensemble. but honestly all the different effects on this set are so good.

then we got this one. again, it feels like you wanted to try out so many effects and transitions and styles. and i feel like anyone else would've tried this it would look bad, but you make it work!!!! that's the bebebo touch. this soft purple is beautiful but i especially love the fonts on this set i think. the 2nd gif is my fave i think, i love the ripped paper effect and the blending.

and lastly, of course i had to talk about this one you made recently. i cannot imagine how much time it took to make. the silhouette broken in parts and every one has another blended gif??? insane. the broken mirror, the broken heart, all of it matches the vibes so perfectly. i haven't watched this show but i can feel the tragedy of it all you know? this green and purple are such a good match. this is definitely my fave piece of yours this years. showcasing your skills beautifully.

this got really long i'm sorry i made you read all this 😂😂 thank you for blessing us with amazing creations year after year. so excited to see what 2025 will bring. where you'll take us next! ily <3

[remy2fang]

TOXICITY was a Future Sneak Peak of the SF6 Story

This three-part story was published on the official Capcom site back in February 16, 2018, which was exactly 2 years after SFV was released. During that same time, development of Street Fighter 6 began, starting with a 92-page proposal. Most projects tend to change their plans. But for SF6, the entire plan was mostly intact, so not much has changed from the proposal.

Going back to TOXICITY, most people saw this story as an introduction to A.K.I., a new character for Street Fighter 6. That is in itself true, and it is neat that we knew of her back many years ago. I know for sure I was curious about her ever since I started my F.A.N.G craze back in summer 2019. But Toxicity provided more than just teasing a future SF6 character. Toxicity is a 2018 glimpse of the setting and story that would unfold in SF6. Most of it was teased on the first chapter.

Toxicity sets the vibe of streets and gangs, particularly of organized crime in which F.A.N.G is a part of for almost the entirety of his life. The game itself has a strong streets theme and has a number of gangs in World Tour mode that includes Mad Gear, Canary Crates, Crows, and some others.

It is said in Toxicity that F.A.N.G goes by many names, which holds true in SF6. Not only does he go by Fang Fei when you meet him in Metro City, but he also goes by Foo when he sends texts messages to you when you’re doing the Neo Shadaloo mission from the Akuma update. If you didn’t notice it while playing this side quest, yes, Foo is F.A.N.G. His profile pic gave it away with the hat, the double O’s for the glasses, the F for his head and frame, and the purple smoke background. Also, he has a fixation on getting M. Bison info and not caring about Neo Shadaloo (the AKI mission showed that he’s not in good terms with JP). Furthermore, the speech pattern sounds very FANG-like lol.

Speaking of M. Bison, if anyone is shocked, surprised, or upset that he’s coming back, I gotta tell you that this too was mentioned in the Toxicity story. That was in 2018. It’s said that F.A.N.G wanted to revive Shadaloo, and that still holds true when playing A.K.I.’s arcade mode. Not only does FANG wanted to revive the organization, but he believes that Bison isn’t truly dead. At first I thought of Bison’s spirit, because that’s what we saw in SFV through Ed’s story mode. That’s not the case. Bison was resurrected. He is now alive, roaming around the world on a horse that he revived (I see a theme here). F.A.N.G is right. Bison isn’t dead after all.

Also, look at this illustration here. See what F.A.N.G is wearing around his neck? That emblem used to be on M. Bison’s hat. And where is his hat? At the Neo Shadaloo ruined lab stage. Toxicity throwback right here.

After finishing the Neo Shadaloo side quest, if you go to the Suval'hal Arena in Nayshall at night, you’ll see a former Doll Trainee. Unlike the other hopeful Dolls that you find at the same location during the day, this one is jaded and chose to work for F.A.N.G when he found her. This begs the question, how many subordinates does F.A.N.G really have? Not only does he have A.K.I. and this Doll, but he also has contacts with moles within Neo Shadaloo. He also collaborates with Experimental Subject Lee, who was a victim of Neo Shadaloo. Go figure, this Lee guy was freed from a bad guy and then end up working with another lol. If people are amazed that FANG can round up people for his evil cause, don’t be. In Toxicity, F.A.N.G was already an influential figure in the criminal underworld long before he joined Shadaloo. He used fear and power to command respect. Now that Shadaloo is “no more,” FANG went back to that life of gangs and crime, but uses civility instead of intimidation. With FANG selling medicine on the streets and how the Doll described how she joined him, it seems to go in line with what was said in Toxicity with his more “kinder” approach.

(Don’t mind my A.K.I. avatar mod lol)

I must also mention that there’s another group, but it’s not clear if they’re associated with F.A.N.G or not. Their organization is called “The Poison Appreciator's Assassination Research Society.” They’re around Haggar Stadium at night in Metro City. They use code names like Pufferfish, Scorpion, Platypus, Urchin, and 20 other poisonous animals. They also look like FANG with their black outfits, hats, and shades. Even though they have a poison theme going on, their fighting style isn’t poisonous at all. They all use a generic fighting style and throw ranches at you. Oddly enough, they never mentioned about FANG nor some kind of poison leader. And FANG didn’t mention about them either. A.K.I. is aware about this group, but from the sounds of it, only by word of mouth. So she’s not close to them. It could be possible that this organization of assassins formed independently without knowing FANG.

That’s all the Toxicity stuff I can think of that end up going into SF6 itself. It’s a F.A.N.G-centric story, but the A.K.I. dlc summarized parts of it from her point of view. She mentioned how she met F.A.N.G and that she got her name from him. But she didn’t mention about his special dagger (I still wonder if that’s gonna show up later in SF6?). She also said that she can’t be “emotionally” attached to him because of the nature of their profession, even though she secretly loves him. Someday they might kill each other if such a time comes. In Toxicity, it is said that FANG was ordered to kill his “brothers” that he used to care so deeply about. And that in itself “robbed him of his emotions.” I doubt AKI would kill FANG in SF6 because that would throw off the AKI dlc stuff in WT and the whole point of her character in SF6 is being a FANG loyalist. The ultimate face off would probably happen in a later game. But not in SF6. Good, I don’t want FANG to go just yet…hopefully I’m not speaking too soon on this!

Regarding about A.K.I.’s “brother” in Toxicity, FANG assumed the two of them were siblings from his point of view. From AKI’s memory in SF6, she tagged along with other impoverished kids on the streets as they steal, mug, and pickpocket to survive. The “brother” she was with is actually just another kid. They’re not related. I had to lay this out because I noticed people were still asking about the “brother.”

In the end, I think it’s neat that we had a little taste of SF6 years ago through a F.A.N.G-centric story. Who knows, maybe more things will arise in later dlc. I still want to see F.A.N.G’s dagger in SF6. Even Rashid unintentionally made a metaphor of it!

(Don’t mind the hot Rashid mod I’m using!)

[ask-missparker]

The Chilling Adventures Of Super-Mamas 🧸

— Ruby Webb and Son 🕸️ Today

Summary: Meanwhile Mama is a work Momma has to take care of the kids, but work calls.

|🕸️🧸🔥|

Note: Silly sweet and a little goofy fic. A little bit of angst too, Mia might need a hug after this episode

Characters mentioned: Luna, Rick, Maria Hill, and etc

———————

Liane was picking up her phone and purse getting ready to rush out the door. Mia was sitting in the living room chair as Eli was playing with his toys on the floor as the TV played in the background.

“You sure you want me to go?” Liane asked reapplying her lipstick and rambling, “Cause I can always reschedule or cut my business day eariler. I know it won’t be profitable or professional for my clients but Luna said she was busy picking wedding flowers with Rochelle, so she might not have time to make to her appointment anyway and..”

“Honey, honey, honey!” Mia repeated sipping her orange juice as she looked up from her phone.

“What?”

“You’re starting to sound like me.

“Huh?…Oohhh! Yikes, yeah, nope! I should go soon then, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes you should, Luna and Ricky’s wedding is coming and Luna might keep making excuses to not come to your store, cause she doesn’t want to bother you, if you don’t show up.”

“Ughhh you’re so right! Oh my goodness yeah no, nope I gotta head out! Promise me you won’t sit all day and watch Bluey with Taylor!”

“Of course not…Now go!”

Liane kissed Eli’s face telling him to not let ice cream all day with his mother and was ushered out the door by Mia, before the blonde can return back inside. Mia closed the door behind her letting out a sigh and picked up the 6 year old boy sitting him on the couch with her. He giggled as his Momma handed him a piece of an old fashioned glazed donut.

“Yummy! Technically not ice cream.” Elliot says munching on the donuts, “Mama gone, can we watch Bluey now?”

“Oh yeah! Mama thinks Bluey is a little overrated but we love it. What if we watch Phineas and Ferb too?” Mia said as she suggested the other show with a grin.

“YES! Can we do the musical one?”

“You are definitely our kid.”

Half an hour later, the two sat on the couch watching Bluey and Phineas & Ferb episode as they enjoyed some snacks. The two were singing along to the entire episode of Phineas & Ferb, chuckling and making silly comments across the series. They even decided to watch Moana.

“I love this movie!” Mia chuckled taking a bite of her apple slices.

“Just don’t sing the boy parts, Mommy!” Elliot remarked.

“I can’t make promise i can’t ke—”

That was when her phone rang. It was Mr. Jameson! As Mia picked up the phone call, the phone practically shook with her boss’s booming voice.

“Where the heck are you, Parker?! You better not be lying around! I needed those photos 4 hours ago!” Jameson yelled over the phone.

“I um…well..heh, today is my day off, sir. I’m at home right now, tomorrow I go back to work.” Mia replied gently, very startled by her boss’s booming voice that almost broke her ear drums.

“UGHHH! I thought one of my employees said you were here today! They lied! Just then those damn pictures over the web or whatever you kids do in this modern day!”

As she heard JJJ ranting and babbling about god knows what, Mia text Maria Hill and her other phones if they can watch her son for a bit. Sadly some of them were busy and others were taking the day to relax. Maria Hill was spending the day with Natasha and their grandchildren. Then she glanced at her costume laying around in the other room and smirked exchanged a cheeky grin with Elliot. He grinned brightly.

“Gee sir!” Mia said loudly over the phone that was on speaker, “I don’t really know to use the web that well. Maybe just can just swing by real quick?”

Elliot chuckled, “HA HA!”

“Whatever Parker, just get here as soon as possible!” Jameson shouted then hung up.

~~~~

So Mia strapped on her Ruby Webb suit with a backpack and extra water bottles carrying Elliot as she swung across the city. The mother-son pair chatted and waved at citizens, even swinging by the windows of buildings as they crossed a park. Mia was so focused on making sure Elliot was strapped in her arms safely as she swung across the streets, she didn’t noticed Sandman until her son pointed out.

“Momma is that the Sandy guy?” He pointed out in awe with a little smile.

“Sandman?!” She exclaimed, under the domino mask and a hoodie of her suit.

“Can we play with him please?”

“I don’t know, baby..”

“Pleaseeee!”

“…uhhh okay, fine, maybe just real quick.”

Mia climbed down and landed in the park carrying Eliot. To her surprise Sandman was messing around with strangers, playing with kids and causing a huge mess per se. But he seemed harmless today, cause the kids and teenagers surrounding him weren’t upset despite the area being a little silly looking.

“Hey Sandy! Can you watch this little guy for me? It will be just a second, I’m gonna an errand right now!” Mia said cheerfully holding up her son who smiled brightly waving at William, “Thanks!”

“Uhm sure, Webby.” He said a little surprised at the unexpected moment with a half smile.

“Hehe thank you! He likes big slides.”

Elliot grinned, “Do a monster truck!”

He took Sandman’s hand running off to play with the other days, seeing his friends there too. Mia chuckled staying for a few seconds watching them, almost immediately losing track of time but then Mr. Jameson called her phone. She whined and rushed off to The Daily Bugle.

~~~

She snuck into a window, changing into a blazer that was in her office and sweating her hair into a ponytail before slipping out of the bathroom. Her co-worker Charlie Olsen, waved at her handing the girl extra papers to show their boss and apologize for her coming in today. Mia smiled and told him that it’s okay, it wasn’t his fault. Jake Kwan, Liane’s assistant, must’ve accidentally mistakenly sent a text message wrong to JJJ or something.

She grabbed the folder with the photos from her backpack as she rushed into Jameson’s office.

“Um, hi! Here are the pictures you wanted, sir.” Mia said entering the office holding the folder filled with of The Avengers fighting downtown last weekend.

Jameson stood up from his seat and exclaimed in his loud booming voice, “What took you so damn long?”

“I just got in like a few minutes ago from Manhattan..”

“So? You want me to be impressed by that, Parker?”

“Um, no-no sir. I had to drop my kid off with a babysitter, so it took me a few minutes to get here. You do have kids, don’t you sir?”

“Don’t sass me Parker!”

“I…I was—sorry. Would that be all, Jameson?”

“Yes Parker, that would be all. Next time i want photos of those vigilante and newcomers heroes that keep popping up, like those X-men! Young Avengers too! And other heroes at events!”

She handed him the pictures as he looked them over. He went on a discussion about other things as he did. Mia just nodded quietly listening to him talk and walked out, taking a breath wiping her eyes at Jameson’s rude tone and booming voice. Charlie asked if she was okay and needed a moment before heading back home. Mia nodded sitting at her desk and wiping her eyes grabbing a sip of water, something she understood what Liane and her friends said about Jameson’s attitude towards people can bruise people’s feelings.

But she liked her job, as she was able to take photographs and write articles. After a few moments she picked herself up from the chair and removed her remembering that she had her son to pick up, as she rushed out the building swinging onto the buildings as Ruby Webb. She can deal with her own problems later over dinner or whatever.

~~~

Elliot was sitting in a monster truck as Sandman made a bunch of sand based items for the kids. He was definitely Liane’s son asking for a specific thing, in this case sand toy looking truck.

“Uh, like this?” Sandman looked up at sandy monster truck.

“No!” Elliot sassed him with a big smile, “Make it more like a Hot Wheels toy! With big wheels and a cool door. And flames pictures on the door.”

“Uhhh..”

That’s when Mia swung in waving, “Hey there! I hope he wasn’t too much trouble for ya!”

She climbed over to the monster truck and picked him up, telling him it’s time to go.

Her son smiled, “He made a truck!”

“I can see that, baby! But he got a little lazy on the details huh?” She added.

~~~~

The rest of the day was spend going to the store for a quick shopping trip, buying McDonald’s and playing at the park together. Then Mia swung them home, texting Liane about the grocery she bought, as they unpacked the groceries together.

A couple of hours later, Liane walked in removing her jacket and heels calling out to the house that she’s back home. She smiled seeing the two of them back on the couch once again, right where she left them earlier that morning.

“Aside from the obvious grocery store trip, did you guys get off the couch today?” Liane asked joining them on the couch, guessing there must’ve been something else they did today.

“Only to use the bathroom and wash dirty laundry we had in the hamper.” Mia responded looking up from the iPad.

Of course Elliot answered with a smile, “That’s no true, Mama! We played at the park too and a lot of other stuff. We just sat down to watch Sleeping Beauty and Tangled.”

Liane grinned at the mention of her favorite movies, “Now that’s more like it! Make room for me.”

The three of them sat down cuddling on the couch to watch Sleeping Beauty tonight. Elliot cuddled on his Mama’s lap as Liane rested her head on Mia’s shoulder. She glanced at the brunette for a second, “You okay?”

“Yeah i’m fine..” She added softly, brushing it off.

“Mia.”

“What? I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I don’t want to call Petra or anyone to know what happened. I’ll find out later after dinner right?”

“Um..yeah. Uh huh. I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay. Oh! Work was good, we got a pretty decent deal on new equipment and the dress we started for Luna is beautiful.”

The brunette smiled at the blonde’s expression and how she explained how her day went. Usually it was the brunette who was listening to her issues and coming up with a smooth form of comfort. The blonde knew something was up but she knew she will find out eventually, so it was better that she leave it alone until later.

Life for them was never always sunshine and rainbows, was it? But they try their best to handle it.

Now just enjoy the movie.

~~~

AHH THATS ALL FOLKS! THANK YOU FOR READING 📖

Please let me know what you think

Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @cherrysft @meiramel @trulysummersprivate and etc

[aspd-culture]

Can the ‘switch’ happen more than once in someone’s life?

I think so, yeah. It's not a documented thing afaik because researchers are exclusively talking to prisoners in for violent crimes and probably asking them ridiculous questions like "so did you unalive someone because your mother didn't love you?", but from what I've heard personally from a lot of people, unless you have an absolutely massive emotional event (which I happened to have) that caused that switch to flip, people who experience the switch (not everyone with ASPD does) experience it more like a light with multiple settings. Multiple specific events moved it down one notch until the brain gave up on its desperate struggle for typical, prosocial development that its pre-programmed for, and developed the social centers based around what the society it was living in was like.

The switch is kind of just a description for noticing a change when your brain moves from "we'll develop social skills later, right now we need to survive this abnormal situation because it's gotta be temporary right?" to either "we are out of time, this center's development period is over and it's as developed as it is going to get" or "okay so this isn't a temporary situation, this is just what life is like so we need to develop the social centers around this type of behavior rather than what we expected". At least as far as I understand it with my background working with children directly during early childhood (when much of the social center's development goes on) and being trained in child development and psychology, that's what we're feeling.

I'm not a professional, so I could of course be wrong. It's hard to say when talking about a subjective, anecdotal set of experiences, rather than a properly researched experience of pwASPD.

Plain text below the cut:

I think so, yeah. It's not a documented thing afaik because researchers are exclusively talking to prisoners in for violent crimes and probably asking them ridiculous questions like "so did you unalive someone because your mother didn't love you?", but from what I've heard personally from a lot of people, unless you have an absolutely massive emotional event (which I happened to have) that caused that switch to flip, people who experience the switch (not everyone with ASPD does) experience it more like a light with multiple settings. Multiple specific events moved it down one notch until the brain gave up on its desperate struggle for typical, prosocial development that its pre-programmed for, and developed the social centers based around what the society it was living in was like.

The switch is kind of just a description for noticing a change when your brain moves from "we'll develop social skills later, right now we need to survive this abnormal situation because it's gotta be temporary right?" to either "we are out of time, this center's development period is over and it's as developed as it is going to get" or "okay so this isn't a temporary situation, this is just what life is like so we need to develop the social centers around this type of behavior rather than what we expected". At least as far as I understand it with my background working with children directly during early childhood (when much of the social center's development goes on) and being trained in child development and psychology, that's what we're feeling.

I'm not a professional, so I could of course be wrong. It's hard to say when talking about a subjective, anecdotal set of experiences, rather than a properly researched experience of pwASPD.