#halloween dance with new directions

[abibliophobiaa]

Summary: You’ve never been one for love. Especially after your last round with it. Halloween rolls around and in comes Eddie Munson. He’s only in town for a couple days, you’re looking for no strings, and chances are you’ll never see him again anyway.

Easy, right?

That is, until you end up with an unexpected party favor.

mini series masterlist

next chapter

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warnings: alcohol; smut; unprotected p in v; unplanned pregnancy and associated symptoms; major miscommunication. eddie munson x afab!reader(7k words)

——

“You’ve been staring around for hours. No one is catching your eye? Not even slightly? You’re not doing brain surgery, you’re just trying to get your toes wet.”

You knew this. But the music had been too loud, the room too heated, your body tucked away against the bar as you sat beside your best friend, sipping on a watery margarita that the ice had long since dissolved into.

All around you people bobbed and swayed to ‘Monster Mash.’ Cliche by all means, and yet it felt fitting when you appraised the crowd once more and noted the mummy dancing with his zombified partner. Further out you caught a werewolf in a particularly compromising position with a vampire, and a group of clowns crowded together hosting what looked to be a meeting.

“What about that Westley guy?”

Right — the one everyone had been talking about all night. The man who had the nerve to dress up as the direct counterpart to your own costume. With a huff, you hiked your leg up, crossing one over the other against the stool. The red dress around you shifted and moved, fingers reaching to adjust the belt around your waist.

“I haven’t seen him.” You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink. “For all I know, he doesn’t exist.”

Micah glanced about the room once again, her makeshift halo wobbling on her head. Somewhere in the distance her boyfriend, Jeremiah, was invested in a deeply riveting conversation about football with some of his friends from college. All of which had dressed in their old football jerseys, dark lines drawn haphazardly under eyes, helmets covering heads. She lingered on him for a moment, and then glanced further over your shoulder, lips tugging upward into a devilish grin. Oddly fitting for the girl dressed as an angel.

“Actually, he’s right there.”

Gravity sent your heart tumbling into your gut. Silly, when you’d thought about it. Just because he’d worn a costume from one of your comfort movies didn’t mean he’d be anything special. Multiple pirates, doctors, and the occasional Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger had already attempted to rouse a conversation, only for it to fall flat. This could very well end up the same, and this night was lost to the turmoil of the inner workings of your mind, still reeling from the sting rumbling in your chest over the past few months.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

But it wasn't a joke when you swiveled around on your stool and faced him. Not at all. In a dimly lit bar, packed too tight with too many bodies bumping you to and fro even as you presently sat, you spotted him. Found the guy people had been mentioning all night as the other half of your ‘couple’s costume,’ saying you both looked amazing together, despite the fact none of them knew he was quite literally a stranger to you.

He sat at a lonesome table. Leaned on an elbow with a cheshire grin spread across the prettiest set of pink lips. His dark curly hair was tied behind his head, tucked into the mask that covered the upper half of his face. Even partially obscured like that, he was handsome, freezing you in place with those piercing brown eyes that were locked unwaveringly on your silhouette.

So he’d noticed you too. Inwardly, you were beaming. After two months of couch surfing and feeling sorry for yourself after a failed relationship wherein you’d walked on your partner of two years with someone who most definitely wasn’t you, you’d decided tonight was the night you’d get back out there. A night of fun, a night to meet someone new, to let loose a bit.

“What are you waiting for,” your friend Micah asked, shoving you forward with a hasty push. “He’s your Westley. If this isn’t some weird ass fate, I don’t know what is.”

Your Westley’s smile grew wider as you approached. Corners dragged upward to form that broad grin, bracketed by the sweetest set of dimples you’d ever seen on a man. Heart pounding a bit, you leaned up against the table, letting out a noncommittal huff. Puffed out a deep breath that caught his attention and had those chocolate brown eyes solely on you.

“Is this space taken?” you asked, and he dipped his head in greeting. “So you’re the guy everyone has been talking about all night.”

“Ah, yes,” he laughed, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the very sound. It’s a lovely, hearty sound. The kind of laugh that seemed dangerous, because you might like it too much. “And you’re the girlfriend I didn’t know I had.”

“You too, huh?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, taking a step closer. “Though it’s all very flattering. Prettiest Princess Buttercup here.” He dropped the lowest part into a whisper, “Definitely a compliment because, if I’m being honest, you’re way out of my league.”

Your cheeks burned with the compliment, feet fidgeting beneath you where you stood. He reached over and slid a chair beside his hip, patting the surface so you could hop on up and join him, a hand of his reaching out to steady you when you wobbled a bit. Another round of drinks were ordered and you learned quickly his name was Eddie and he’d been in town only for a couple weeks now. Had a few gigs in the city for the band he played in and would be off in another two days. Blew in and out like the storm that presently raged outside, wind howling, rain splashing against sidewalks, lightning painting the night sky in a shock of white before leaving it dark once more. He’d grown up in a small town, but realized he’d only ever had dreams that were too small for the walls he’d been raised in.

So he’d ended up on a short tour and would head off to California to start laying down tracks for the band’s first ever album. He sounded so hopeful and eager, so rejuvenated and excited about life, and it had you endeared to him. Drifting closer as the night went on and he asked you about your own life. Learned you grew up here in the city but craved something quieter, very much unlike him. You’d studied creative writing and English in college and wanted to write the stories people would one day know and love and shelve in their homes, but in the meantime you worked at a library. It wasn’t the most thrilling job, but it kept you abreast, and he regaled you with the endless fantasy titles he’d known and loved through the years.

It wasn’t long before the hours trickled on by and Micah approached the two of you with a sulking Jeremiah in tow. The latter of the two a little too inebriated based on the slight sway in his form and the hand Micah kept firmly planted around his forearm.

Her blue eyes flickered up at Eddie’s face, then drifted back to yours. “I’m taking this idiot home. He’s in time out —”

“Noooo,” he moaned, forehead pressing into the crook of his girlfriend’s neck.

“Are you coming back with me or…?” Micah’s eyes trailed back upward to Eddie once more, brows arched curiously.

Eddie looked at you and shrugged. “Up to you, Buttercup.”

“I’m gonna stay…actually.”

Micah nodded, giving you both one last glance over before tugging her boyfriend along behind her in the direction of the door. As she passed, she leaned up against the hollow of your ear and said loud enough over the music, “Be careful. Have fun. You’re beautiful and I love you and you deserve to enjoy yourself tonight, okay?”

Once they were gone your attention returned to the man swathed in black standing before you, shoulder bumping his. “It's too loud in here,” you shouted for emphasis, insides nearly rattling from the music booming from the speakers positioned about the room. “Is there somewhere we can go that’s a little more…”

“Private?” he asked, leaning down toward your ear. Chills skittered along your arms as his lips nearly brushed your skin there, gooseflesh pimpling in its wake. “I have a hotel room two blocks over. How do you feel about running?”

“Let’s go.” You grinned.

“As you wish.” He beamed, holding out a gloved hand for you to take.

Outside, the two of you huddled up beneath the small awning growing smaller by the second with the other patrons who had similar ideas of waiting for their rides and cabs or braving the fall storm head on and taking off into the soaked streets in their full Halloween costumes.

Laughter bubbled up from your lips as a particularly hard jolt against your back sent you tumbling into his form, a quick hand of his reaching out and curling low around your back. He tensed, eyes locked on yours, awaiting your response and you leaned further into him, relishing in the heat of his form.

Moments skittered by under the awning. His eyes roamed your form, dark and beautiful, ringed with those little crinkles that appeared in the corners whenever he smiled. He’d been smiling all night — at you, a thought that has little butterfly wings quivering low in your belly, and lower still at the suddenness of the desire ramping up in your bloodstream.

The glowing lights from the bar filter out onto the street. Flashed orange and red across Eddie’s features, painted him in vibrant color, highlighting the plushness of his lips, the curve of his jaw, the bump of his chin. Hesitant fingers reached up to brush at the curls tied behind his head, curled one of the ringlet strands around and around a fingertip, your forearm spreading over the space between his shoulders, around his neck until he pressed in closer to you. Those chocolate brown eyes flickered southward. Lingered on your lips briefly before traveling back up, asking that question without words. Your only answer was the upward tip of your mouth, leaning into the space, waiting to feel him warm against you.

Electricity danced in the moments shared between you. In the fingertips that pressed into his shoulder and gripped tight as his nose nudged at the space beside yours, your mouth tipping up closer to his. From here, you could smell the mint he’d tossed in his mouth on the way out, could feel the tremble of his breath against your sternum, feel the heat of it fanning over your lips.

But the kiss never came. Behind you, a group of friends pushed and shoved toward the front door, nearly sending you and Eddie into the sidewalk and out of the shelter provided by your awning. It dawned on you then, however begrudgingly, that maybe you should move, give others a space to wait for their vehicles, and start to head in the direction of his hotel room.

He seemed to agree, sliding his palm down your forearm to twine his fingers between yours. “Guess that’s our cue, huh?”

“Bet you’re glad you wore the equivalent of tights for pants today, huh?”

“Suppose it makes it easier for me to whisk you away in the night, now doesn’t it?” He barked out a laugh, and clutched your hand tighter, dragging you out onto the street and into the rain.

——

You were presently in the midst of what was officially the weirdest, most endearing hook up you’d ever had. Moments after rushing out into the busy city streets and getting absolutely drenched from head to toe, Eddie tugged you toward a grocery store, suggesting he had nothing back at the hotel. Had looked a little bashful about it, even when you reassured him it was fine and you’d manage without, though he wouldn’t hear any of it.

As a result, you trailed behind him, dress sopping wet and clinging to every inch of your body, helping gather some things you might need in between what you hoped would be an eventful afternoon. Water, snacks, and the like. He seemed so giddy with it, and you hated the way his dimple in his cheek had your heart and thighs clenching. You preferred only the latter of the two, and couldn’t afford yourself the emotional aspect that came along with the former.

Eventually you had both found yourselves in the frozen food aisle, his shoulder bumping yours, your fingers dancing in the spaces between the two of you, the anticipation of after burning brighter with every minute that passed.

“How do you think they know what…oh, I don’t know…Moose Tracks taste like?” Eddie asked, turning his head over his shoulder.

Fortunately for you, he’d removed his mask, revealing more of his features. Those curls that dangled along his brow line, the smattering of freckles along high cheekbones, the crinkled corners of his eyes whenever he smiled at you.

“What?” you asked, once more reminding yourself of just how differently this night was going than you’d originally anticipated.

“Like what makes a Moose Track a Moose Track?”

“I think it’s just a…mix of things that remind them of…you know what?” His eyes twinkled, and you shifted a little closer. It really sucked that he was cute — obnoxiously so. “I actually don’t know. But, I do think we have more than enough stuff here to feed an army. And I think the rain finally let up.”

“You want to head out?”

“I think we should,” you agreed, tugging him along behind you down the aisle, in search of the nearest check out line.

The walk to the hotel room reminded you both of what you’d intended for that evening. The curious glances you would catch him shooting your way, the way you’d do the same when he focused his attention ahead. It increased with every step closer to the looming building, the desire for closeness, to feel, to touch, to taste.

Burned brighter when he swiped his key card and you started shoving the things he’d brought inside of the mini fridge, before snatching two water bottles and placing them down on the bedside table. He whistled as you walked around the room, fingers snapping, one of his curls tucked against the fullness of his mouth.

“You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you reassured him, sensing the nervousness radiating from his form.

Those dark eyes settled on yours as you approached, palm coming up slowly to rest against his sternum, right where you could feel his heartbeat clanging against his ribs.

“It’s been a while,” he settled on, voice softer than it had been all evening, a tremorous quality catching your attention.

“We’ll go slow,” you promised, leaning up to finally, and happily, close the space between the two of you.

It felt like a long, shared exhale. The way he immediately knew which way to turn his head, how you liked for his calloused fingers to rest against your cheekbone, that you wanted to be as close as possible, pressed flush against his form. Your head swam as he turned you around and walked you backward until your backside thumped against the edge of the dresser positioned against the wall opposite the bed. Grunted as he reached a hand up the back of your neck and sought out that pesky zipper you wanted so badly pulled down.

As if he’d read your mind, the man in question gave the zipper a nice, hard tug and the fabric shifted and dropped around your shoulders, baring the similarly colored bra beneath. So maybe you’d gone shopping for your first foray back after your break up? Based on the darkened eyes honing in on the lacy fabric, you’d picked correctly.

“Such a shame,” he groaned against the curve of your collar bone, fingers pushing the dress down and onto the floor, “really liked that dress.”

“My turn,” you mused, fingers reaching forward to tug the tunic free from his obscenely tight pants.

He helped you with ease, arms lifting just enough to help pull it over his head, giggling as his endless mane of curls sprang free. Tattoos jumped to life before your eyes. The multiple on his arms and torso, some looking faded and older, likely done in someone’s house, and others freshly inked, leaving a tapestry of stories he’d likely tell you if you’d only had the time.

“Fuck it.” He reached down and cupped your jaw, bruising kiss after bruising kiss laid upon your mouth, your toes digging into the carpet below as pale fingers trailed down the center of your chest, and then lower still, pausing at the hem of your panties. “Can I touch you?”

You might burst into flames if he didn’t. “Please.”

“Never have to say please with me, Buttercup,” he said, fingers pushing past that lacy barrier until they met your flesh, knowing exactly what he’d find there. “Sweetheart…this all for me?”

“Don’t tease.”

A broken sigh spilled from your lips, fingers clutched tight around his forearm as those expert fingers dragged a slow circle around your clit before sliding back to your center, pushing in. Your head rolled back against the wall, heat blooming anew as he stepped closer into the circle of your thighs, watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, enjoying the sounds made only for him, the slickness of your center practically pulling his fingers back in with every perfect thrust curled in that spot right where you needed him the most.

“Fuck, just like that, sweetheart,” he panted, mouth pressed tight to yours, grinning against your skin as you keened high and tight, creeping closer and closer to your edge.

And just when you’d thought you were about to explode into dozens of tiny stars like in the night sky above, Eddie stopped. You nearly cried out his name in your frustration, only to find him dropping down onto his knees in front of the dresser, capable hands tugging you closer to the edge, before he pushed the dainty fabric back to the side and swapped his fingers for his tongue.

One long stripe from center to clit was all you'd needed for the rubber band to snap. For the shaking to start, the chanting of his name like a mantra or a prayer to rouse the neighbors likely next door and alert everyone in the building to what magic Eddie had worked between your thighs.

“Not,” you gasped, leaning your head forward to rest against his heaving chest, “fair.”

“What’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“Too good at that.” Another rasped breath pooled from your lips, quieted by the sound of your lips pressing to his chest. Hazy eyes lifted to his face, a satisfied exhale slowing the rise and fall of your chest. “Get on the bed.”

“What do you —”

“On the bed,” you repeated, grinning wickedly as he backed up just enough so his kneecaps hit the mattress. “I want to look at you.”

And god, what a sight he was. Once you’d finally managed to tug his pants down, revealing the boxers beneath, you were rewarded with the fullness of Eddie Munson in the flesh. The narrow waist, the smattering of hair you kissed along his abdomen, the curve of his chest, the freckles along his chest and shoulders. Traced along the tattoos on his chest, the sides of his ribs, the one on his upper thigh, before dragging upward to slide over the increasingly — and massively impressive — hardened cock peeking out from the waistband of his boxers.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he blew the words out on a shaky exhale as you squeezed a little tighter, gauging what he liked.

Your grin grew as you wiggled the remnants of his clothing off his hip and cupped the weight of him in your palm. Perfect. He was absolutely perfect, and you wanted so badly to show him just how much you thought so, sliding down further onto the edge of the bed, tongue dragging a long line up the underside, along that prominent vein that had him bucking upward off the bed.

“Can I, Eddie?”

He watched through hooded lashes as your eyes zeroed in on his leaking tip, thumb sliding over the pre-cum there, before gliding your palm in a slow downward motion around him. He nodded, breath nearly cutting off completely as you finally, and blessedly, welcomed him into your mouth, immediately knowing nothing would compare to this moment and this girl.

Ruined. You’d ruined him for others, your pretty smile around his cock driving him too swiftly to a precipice he didn’t want to see the end of. Not yet. “Wait, wait, wait. Fuck. Your mouth is perfect, sweetheart. But — mmm — I need you.”

He pulled you upward with a gentle hand on the back of your neck, rolling you over beneath him, tongue marking a path along your chest, the peaks of your nipples, the delicate skin of your abdomen. With each pass of his lips over your flesh, you sank deeper into the mattress, knee bent, foot digging into the space above his hip, drawing him close enough that you could feel his glistening, wet hardness brushing your abdomen.

“Someone’s impatient,” you teased, moaning as his finger circled your wet entrance. “Want you inside me.”

“Patience, Buttercup,” he practically purred, reaching over into the bedside table to find…nothing. “No. Oh shit. We didn’t get condoms. I’m such an idiot, I —”

“Shit,” you whimpered, jolting upright and nearly smashing your skull into his as he double checked the inside of the drawer. “What about your suitcase? Wallet?”

“I told you I don’t exactly do this often.”

Those dark brows knitted together on his forehead, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. You remembered then the fortunate and recent development of starting birth control after Micah suggested she could never live without it, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to clasp your hands together and thank the heavens for the little pills you had back home in your friend’s bathroom.

“I’m on the pill,” you told him, swallowing the nervousness that grew with every beat of your heart. “And I’ve been tested recently. I’m clean.”

Maybe it was stupid. Maybe you should have known better.

“I’ve been tested since my last time too. I’m good,” he said, unmistakable desperation filling his voice.

“I don’t want to stop,” you whispered as he rolled onto his back.

“Me neither,” he agreed as you clambered over his lap and bracketed his hips with a thigh on either side.

Lured with the wonderful bliss that was Eddie Munson’s lips warm and plus against yours, you gripped him in hand and slowly lowered yourself down onto him, completely bare. There was something so raw about the moment. About the shuddered breath you both released, the way his hands cupped your hips as he pushed in deeper than you ever thought possible, his voice a broken mix of ‘that’s a good girl,’ ‘taking me so well,’ ‘look so good full of my cock,’ as you move over him.

You wanted to hate that you end up doing something between fucking and making love. For something so casual, it feels almost too intimate, the way you collided together like two pieces fitted together of a puzzle that had only been missing those parts.

And it wasn’t gentle, his fingers clutched in your flesh, feet planted on the bed as he eventually pounded up into you — but it was also somehow tender. A complicated mess, just like the shattered pieces of your heart as he groaned one last time and urged you to come with him, pulling you closer in his arms. His fingers circled your clit until you cried his name and clenched down around him, whimpering at the warmth of him spilling inside.

As you both drifted back to reality, he maneuvered around the bed and washed himself from between your thighs. Cooed when you winced at the cold contact, dropping a kiss against your forehead and telling you that it had started storming again. He could either call you a cab or you could stay the night, he’d suggested. You hadn’t anticipated spending the night with him, but after he dug around for the ice cream and M&Ms you got from the supermarket, you found you couldn’t say no to him.

Especially when he turned on the television and, funnily enough, The Princess Bride was on. Fate, or something more, seemed to laugh in your face. Gleeful as you sprawled out beneath the covers naked as the day you were born beside the man who you quickly learned enjoyed handfuls of popcorn mixed with his sweet chocolate treats.

It didn’t take long before he’d grown hard again, the lights dimmed and the food forgotten, your soft sighs and pleasured peals filling the room as he pushed in and watched as your eyes rolled back and back arched prettily for him.

And later, after you were both satiated and satisfied, you fell asleep to the sounds of Inigo Montoya’s famous speech, and the gentle inhales and exhales of the man sprawled out beneath you.

——

Daylight streamed in through the olive curtains positioned against the wall across from you. You hadn’t noticed them last night. Hadn’t noted the wooden walls, the pale ceiling above, nor the cream bedspread across your hips. Hadn’t noticed a lot of things, it seemed, other than the man who dozed behind you, tattooed arm slung low around your waist, keeping you in close.

Fallen asleep — you’d both fallen asleep watching The Princess Bride, much to your grunted amusement as you shifted up and into a sitting position. Eddie’s arm thumped onto the bed, leaving a wrinkled mess around his sinewy forearm. Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you took in the curve of his jaw. The way he looked more boyish than his nearly thirty years, lips parted in a sleepy breathing pattern, curls strewn all about his face. A smile graced your lips, fingers of yours rolling over the curve of his back, the heft of his shoulder, the breadth of his bicep.

Part of you craved curling back up beside him. Wanted to feel his mouth roving over yours, across your skin, between your thighs once more. Would probably dream about the way his face had scrunched up in pleasure before he came apart beneath you last night for weeks to come. But your eyes noticed the time ticking on the far wall, alerting you that work started in two hours. Some weekend reading activity for the children in your town you’d volunteered to work weekend hours for; hindsight, as they say, was twenty-twenty.

“She’s running away in the night,” he grumbled beside you, mouth rolling over to press into the pillow you had slept soundly on for a shocking eight hours, letting out a loud yawn. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d done so. That curly head of hair lifted, too-long strands falling into his gaze as he pinched one eye shut and glanced toward the giant bedroom window. “Or…morning, I guess?”

“I have work,” you said, reaching over to snatch your underwear from off the floor.

He watched with rapt attention as you whirled around and clasped your bra into place, cheeks burning despite the fact he’d seen every inch of you merely hours ago. The man propped himself up onto one elbow, your eyes catching the bat tattoos on his arm as his fingers reached over to curl around your hip, dragging you back down into bed.

Soon enough it was loud giggles, his fingers dancing along your sides, noisy kisses against your own. But it didn’t take long before you were reduced to breathy sighs. His fingers against the span of your hips, his chest pressing yours into the mattress. Lips over yours, against your cheek, the curve of your throat, the hollow between your breasts, the valley of your abdomen. He stopped with a nip along your hip bone, tongue laving over the sensitive skin there.

“Do you have to go?” he groaned against your stomach, placing a final kiss there before crawling back up your body and cradling the back of your head with one hand, his body weight perched on the other elbow, face hovering over your own. Pretty, he was so damn pretty and you wished you could hate him for it.

“I guess I have a few minutes,” you suggested coyly.

And it was all Eddie needed before he had you beneath him once more singing a tune he knew he’d never forget.

You dressed in silence after. He pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a thin sweater while you glanced at the wrinkled heap of your dress from the night before. It hadn’t dawned on you the complications of getting your feet wet on Halloween — at least, not until now.

“I can’t walk back to Micah’s in that,” you groaned, pointing to the messy ball of fabric on the floor.

“Wait — I have an idea!”

Eddie rummaged around a box in the far corner of the room and tossed a tee shirt your way. Across the front was ‘Corroded Coffin’ in a messy font that reminded you of how your brain often felt after one too many cups of coffee in the morning.

“Your band?” you asked, turning the shirt around to show him.

“Yeah.” He nodded, white teeth flashing with his smile. “You know, you could see us some time.”

You quickly slipped the dress over your head and let the skirt ruffle messily along the floor, then moved to roll up the billowy sleeves to your shoulders.

“I can’t say that I’ll be in California any time soon,” you told him, pulling the tee over your head next and draping it over the belt. Like this, it looked more like an oddly fitted skirt and a top. You already decided that was much better than a Halloween costume, so it would do until you got home and could change.

He nodded rapidly, like he knew that, but hadn’t realized that you’d be coasts apart in only a couple of days.

“Well…” he trailed off, searching around the bedside table for a moment.

Once he procured a pencil and a piece of paper, he scribbled down a string of numbers you immediately knew were the hope for something more from a boy with kind eyes, a beautiful smile, and a heart of gold. Your chest ached. If only you’d met him two years ago, at a better time, in a place where you were more open to whatever this could not be.

“My number — for the place I’ll be staying at for the next couple months,” he explained, tucking it into the exposed circle of your palm, closing your fist within his fingers. “Maybe, I don’t know…we can talk?”

“I can do talking,” you conceded, already hating the fact you knew you wouldn’t be utilizing the number.

It was better this way; he was better off this way.

You both parted with a kiss in the doorway. With his arms looped low around your waist in a way that felt too familiar. A way that suffocated, heart twisting at the soft smile that graced his pretty mouth when he wished you a good shift and you wished him a safe flight.

The walk home was all inward grins that flowed on your face until it hurt. Waves to random strangers passing on the street, curious gazes from onlookers at the billowing sleeves you kept shoving up into your tee shirt as you passed. Memories of the night before flashed in your mind. Of his fingers tugging the zipper on the dress, tossing your underwear alongside his on the floor, mouth on yours, hands learning the contours of your body, the way he fitted perfectly inside you.

Another time, another place, another day maybe.

And that day was not today.

Micah was sprawled across the kitchen island when you entered. You shut the door as quietly as possible behind you, only to find she’d already been awake anyway. A cup of likely long gone cold coffee rested beside her along with a bottle of painkillers, her forehead pressed against the cool tile, nursing what you imagined had to be the headache from hell.

“You’re home late,” she grumbled, pushing her head up into her hands. Blonde hair spilled around her forearms, face covered behind her palms. “I’m assuming you had a good time. Which will at least make one of us. Jere passed out as soon as we got home and snored all night.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” you apologized, stepping further into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator immediately for some water. “I…we had fun.”

“I’m going to need you to spill, because he was cute even with the mask. Don’t think I didn’t notice,” she mused, suddenly healed of her headache, what with the way she looked at you like she’d received the best news of her life.

“I accomplished exactly what I wanted to. I got my toes wet.” You shrugged, lathering some butter onto a freshly toasted bagel.

“You like him,” she screeched, making her own self wince at the sheer volume of it.

You did. You do. But those feelings would fade. Your resolve had already hardened because he wanted romance and flowers and you needed no strings. He deserved that much — he deserved so much.

“We had sex, that’s all. And he’s leaving for California in a few days. I’m never going to see him again. So it doesn’t really matter, now does it?”

——

It hadn’t felt real. For days, you’d doubted every symptom. Every inkling that might have alluded to your present condition.

First, it had been the realization that your period was late. Not even the one or two days you would have pushed aside as a result of stress, the extra hours you’d taken up at work to try and save a little money here and there for a new apartment, or your severe lack of sleep. Then, the nauseousness started. In waves, most days, and definitely not only in the mornings like you’d been led to believe your whole life. Your chest ached next; a fullness that felt unlike your normal, monthly symptoms. Chalked it up to your oncoming period. The same period by that point was nearly two weeks delayed. There was also the fact that no matter how much you slept, you’d still felt like it wasn’t enough. Found yourself dozing off at work, yawning standing in the line for groceries, losing focus while out with friends.

There was also the fact statistics were on your side. You’d done all the right things and were on birth control at the time. So it couldn’t be…that, right? Statistically improbable, unlikely, unwarranted. At least, that was what you had chosen to reassure yourself with, quieting the shouting in your skull that suggested otherwise.

It wasn’t until you were sprawled out against that obnoxiously crinkly white paper in the doctor’s office a little over a month after Halloween that you’d even allowed the thought to enter your mind. It also happened to be the first moment you wondered if you were about to have the entirety of your life changed by a night with a boy in too tight pants you’d definitely not thought about even once since you’d spent the night with him. And you most definitely didn’t picture his dark pupils expanding in the night as you rolled over him, his palms gripping your hips, your hands on his chest, heads thrown back in shared ecstasy.

No.

Not at all.

Six weeks, they told you, with sympathetic looks and uncertain smiles as you exhaled shakily and stared up at the ceiling to stop the room from spinning out of control around you. Six weeks pregnant and undoubtedly so, based on the rapid thrum of the baby’s heartbeat on the screen before you. Strong, they’d said. Perfectly healthy for someone at this point in your pregnancy. They printed pictures up for you of the tiny gummy bear with arms and you held it in trembling hands as they began to speak. Words strung together to form sentences you’d barely understood. Options for next steps, vitamins to take, habits to stop, foods to eat and foods to avoid, how much caffeine to drink, how much weight you could lift and what activities you should start to limit—your head spun with it and continued the whole quiet walk home back to Micah’s place she shared with her boyfriend, Jeremiah.

She welcomed you with open arms as you entered their apartment with a pamphlet on pregnancy in one hand and your pocketbook in the other, whimpered cries of not knowing what to do soaking through her knitted sweater. She’d accepted it without hesitation, just as she always did and would. Held you close to her chest — and hissed at Jeremiah to leave when he’d eventually poked his head in — as you processed the emotions swirling like an endless kaleidoscope in your mind.

And later, when your tears had dried and she’d plopped a freshly opened box of ice cream in your lap and demanded you eat, she asked, “Please just…tell me it’s absolutely Westley’s and not Paul’s.”

“Six weeks,” you sighed, watching her shoulders relax. There was no mistaking who the baby’s father was, and at least that brought you some comfort, “Definitely Westley’s.”

Though you weren’t sure if that made it any better.

“I just want you to know it’s going to be okay,” Micah reassured you, reaching over to rub at your forearm. But did she really know that? How could she? Because to you, it felt like the earth had fallen out of orbit, spinning dizzily now with no signs of stopping any time soon. “I know we don’t have the most space right now, but the couch turns into a futon. It’s yours until you find something otherwise, you know that.”

Telling Eddie his world was (potentially) about to change happened two weeks later. You needed some time to process, is what you’d told yourself was the reason why you’d delayed. After hours of debating, you decided to keep it, and knew that there was always the chance Eddie didn’t want kids — always the chance he’d want to pretend it never happened and that he didn’t want to be a part of its life. Regardless of what he chose, you’d set your mind on being a mother, and you’d do it alone if you had to. But he at least deserved to know; deserved the option of choosing them, even if all you’d had was a night fueled by lust, because you weren’t interested in anything more than that.

Fear had clamped your mouth shut, preventing you from forming those two words for fourteen days. Just two simple words that would have opened the dam to let in the floodgates for the conversation that needed to happen.

Eddie, I’m pregnant.

Eddie, I’m pregnant.

I’m pregnant.

You’d rehearsed it all afternoon, pacing a certifiable hole in the ground from how rapidly you’d moved. Had even stood in front of your friends and had them listen to it until you felt confident enough to do it for real. Gripped Micah’s hand tight as you swiped the man’s number from your pocketbook and dialed. It rang once, then twice, and you worried he wouldn’t answer or you’d caught him at a bad time when the line exploded with sound. Voices. Dozens of voices spilled through the other line, and music along with it.

You winced. “Uhm, Eddie? Is this the right number?”

A long pause extended, drowned out by guitar strings and drum beats. “Uh — uh, yeah. This is him.”

He sounded gruffer than you remembered — voice tinged with a smokier quality that seemed almost unfamiliar to you now. Not that you’d spoken much that night. Maybe he’d caught something, maybe he was sick. Maybe it was merely the weeks that had grown on since you’d seen him, and he'd become another person in the crowd already — someone you knew if only for a night. Heart pounding, you gripped Micah’s hand tighter and wound the phone wire around a pointed fingertip.

“Hi…I’m sorry I’m only calling now. Busy, you know?” A lie, because you’d never intended to call. It had been one night; that was all it was ever meant to be. “It’s the…girl from the party. The Buttercup to your Westley costume on Halloween.”

He chuckled in reply, and you wondered if maybe he was shy. He’d been looser the night you met — louder. Boisterous and passionate. Carefree and fun. But you wondered briefly if that was the glass of whiskey he’d drunk before you slipped away to his hotel room hearing him now. But you remembered that next morning, too; his splendid affection, the kissing, the exuberance of his persona, the way he’d made you fall apart around him again.

It seemed…strange now. Cut off, cold even.

“I’m…pregnant. I just —” You swallowed the knot of fear forming in the back of your throat and continued, “I just thought you should know…because it’s yours.”

There was another prolonged pause.

Nervousness welled up in your throat the longer it continued. Joined that roiling nausea that had become your friend and foe these weeks. Swallowing thickly, your fingers pressed over the span of your abdomen, over the knitted sweater and skin protecting your tiny secret — still not visible to others yet, but wholly your own all the same. You’d already decided you would love them fiercely enough for the both of you if he didn’t want anything to do with it, just so they’d never feel like they were missing out.

Then, after what felt like decades, he asked, “Who is this again?”

You repeated your name, nervousness rattling your bones, fingers trembling in Micah’s. Micah mouthed out ‘Breathe,’ even though you were doing anything but.

The line went dead, and your heart along with it.

——

let me know what you think! 🩷

[poisonlove]

can you write a fem reader x tara fic where reader is anika’s best friend or sister or something and anika wants to introduce reader to the group

Oh yes, I really like the idea, haha. I just hope you like what I've come up with. Sorry for the delay, but sooner or later, I'll write every request. 😊

The night we met | t.c

tara carpenter x reader

"Excuse me, sorry," I uttered with difficulty, trying to navigate through the crowd.

I found myself at the fraternity party in New York, immersed in the atmosphere of loud music and an air filled with a mix of sweat and grass. It was Halloween, and the guys were dressed up, adding a touch of eccentricity to the party. The noise of laughter and music served as a background as I struggled to make my way through the crowd, eager to reach my destination amid the festive chaos.

I released a sigh of relief as I made my way through the crowd, and finally, in the center of the party I saw a familiar scene. My best friend, Anika, was sitting on a small couch with a girl. It was clear that she was Anika's girlfriend considering how Anika had her legs stretched over hers, and the girl's hand was absentmindedly caressing Anika's leg.

I approached with a smile, happy to have found my destination amidst all the festive chaos.

"Hey," I said smiling at my best friend. Anika gave me a beautiful smile as soon as our eyes met.

"Mindy... this is y/n, my best friend," Anika introduced, pointing in my direction. "y/n, this is Mindy, my girlfriend," she announced, smiling broadly and giving a playful look to her girlfriend.

"Pleasure to meet you," I said in a loud voice, trying to make myself heard amidst the party's noise.

"The pleasure is mine," Mindy replied with a smile, looking at me with curious eyes.

"Cute costume," she noted immediately, looking me up and down with a mischievous smile. "Certainly... frightening," she added laughing under her breath.

"Thank you," I replied, slightly embarrassed. Perhaps Harry Potter wasn't the most suitable choice for this situation, now that I think about it.

"I'm going... going to get something to drink," I said, leaning toward Anika, who nodded in agreement.

I made my way through the crowd again, heading towards the drink counter a few meters away. While walking, a girl who was dancing accidentally elbowed me, making me lose my balance and collide with someone.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," I immediately said after regaining my balance, looking up to apologize to the person I had bumped into.

When my eyes met hers, I was mesmerized. Before me stood a girl dressed as a pirate, with brown hair cascading to her shoulders.

"Don't worry, it's fine," she said calmly, indicating that she was unharmed by our collision. Her eyes, glazed from alcohol, analyzed me more closely.

I responded with a slightly embarrassed smile.

The girl with a smile on her face approached me even more causing my heartbeat to quicken. The height difference between us became evident as we looked into each other's eyes. Her presence, heightened by the festive atmosphere and the effect of alcohol, created an aura of curiosity and excitement.

The pirate, tilting her head, raised her hands to my face. With a confident and gentle gesture, she adjusted my round glasses.

"There you go, much better," she said laughing softly.

"TARA!"

The voice resonated in the chaos of the party and I immediately turned my gaze towards the sound. I saw Tara turning, revealing her well-defined jaw, upturned nose, and full lips.

"Everything okay?" Mindy asked, directing the question to Tara and showing a slight concern as I turned to see.

Tara's brown eyes turned back in my direction, radiant with brightness and fascination. "Let's go get something to drink, Pottah," she said, smiling widely, and a slight giggle escaped when she pronounced "Potter" with an English accent.

"That's what I wanted to do, Elizabeth Swann," I replied, amused.

Tara raised an eyebrow with curiosity, her scrutinizing gaze fixed on me. "Swann?" she asked with genuine curiosity. "Oh... it was a reference to Pirates of the Caribbean, you know... like a matching costume to your pirate outfit,"

I was grateful that the room was relatively dark, allowing me to conceal my embarrassment.

Tara chuckled softly. "Got it, I was teasing you." She raised a hand, shaking it timidly while she spoke.

"Could I have another?" she asked the person behind the counter, genuinely smiling. It was only then that I realized Tara already had a glass in her hand.

"There's none left," the guy behind the counter replied.

And that's when a certain guy approached with a flirtatious smile. "Hey beauties... I'm Edward," the guy said, but he only looked at Tara. "Y/n," I said, annoyed. "Tara," the girl replied with a smile on her lips.

My eyes rolled slightly without making a sound.

"In the kitchen, there's something to drink... if you want," Edward affirmed, giving me a dazzling smile t

Tara and i along with Edward, made our way to the kitchen to get something to drink. As I took a sip, the strong, bitter taste of alcohol made me scrunch up my nose. Meanwhile, Edward was openly flirting with Tara, creating a tense and uncomfortable atmosphere that made me wish I were elsewhere.

The guy put an arm around Tara's waist, causing clear discomfort to the brunette.

It was clear that the guy wanted to take Tara upstairs. With a pleading look, Tara asked me to help her in that embarrassing situation. Her expression reflected a mixture of discomfort and hope as she sought a way out of that embarrassing situation.

"Hey!" I said seriously, putting my hand on Edward's arm.

The guy, obviously tipsy, looked at me confused, smiling mischievously. "If you want to come too, I won't complain," he chuckled quietly.

"Let go of Tara," I said seriously, tightening my lips at the disgusting proposition. "She doesn't want to," I added, shooting a glance at the pirate.

"Potter..." Edward muttered weakly. "I'll make her change her mind," he concluded, smiling.

"Tara! Let's go home," Anika intervened, looking at the guy attentively.

"He won't let her go," I said nervously, noticing how Tara looked at me with bright eyes, perhaps trying to hold back tears.

"Tara stays here," a guy intervened. Mindy was next to him.

a statuesque cowboy.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion thinking that maybe he was the pirate girl's boyfriend.

"Come on, Chad... we just want to have some fun," the guy said, his face red from alcohol.

"She stays here," the guy reiterated seriously, approaching the stairs.

Edward, climbing two steps, made Tara lose her balance, clearly not wanting to follow him. The sudden movement surprised her, and her expression reflected a combination of fear and disorientation as she tried to maintain stability. Edward's firm grip on her arm seemed more like an attempt to drag her than a supportive gesture, adding an element of constraint to the embarrassing situation Tara found herself in.

Tara grimaced, trying to hide the pain as Edward insisted on dragging her up the stairs.

In the blink of an eye, the situation escalated as Chad grabbed Edward by the shirt, attempting to force him to step down. Edward, trying to retaliate, eventually let go of Tara. With a swift motion, the pirate sought refuge in my arms, trying to regain balance after the unexpected turmoil. The tension in the air was palpable as gazes clashed, with Tara still a bit disheveled but clearly grateful to have escaped from that unwanted aggression.

"Take her outside," Anika said seriously. Without saying anything, I found myself walking with Tara against my body toward the exit of the house.

Outside, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the occasional passing car. The starry sky shone, and the full moon illuminated the night. The cold made Tara shiver slightly, enveloped in the quiet of the evening.

"Are you okay?" I asked with concern.

Tara looked at me, smiling and nodding.

I decided to take off my tunic, a sort of jacket I was wearing, and offered it to her. In short sleeves and jeans, I noticed the cold was starting to be felt a bit.

"Take this, it might help you warm up," I suggested, offering my tunic to Tara in the hope that it could give her at least some comfort.

Tara raised the corners of her lips, putting on the coat I had given her and looking at me with a grateful expression.

She swayed slowly towards me, resting her hands on my shirt. Her gaze was directed at me with her chin slightly lifted. A mixture of vulnerability and gratitude reflected in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said timidly.

My cheeks tinged with red due to the proximity, and Tara smiled sweetly. With a sloppy attempt, the girl tried to stand on tiptoe, causing a laugh from me for her effort.

Tara pouted, but it was amusing to see the slightly tipsy girl.

Tara's hands moved gently on my face, removing my glasses.

With a smile on my lips, I watched as the girl pushed her glasses up on her head, looking at me curiously. My smile faded when I saw Tara lean forward, eager to press her lips to mine.

"Tara... you're drunk," I said, smiling amusedly. "And I'm a girl," I clarified, not wanting Tara in her state to overlook the situation.

For heaven's sake, I was gay, but I didn't want to kiss a drunk straight girl.

"And so what? I've noticed," she replied, smiling, biting her lower lip. "I just want to kiss you," she affirmed, amused.

Her hand caressed the lightning-shaped scar on my forehead. "You're extremely sexy with this costume," she murmured.

"You have a boyfriend," I said with a slightly irritated tone, remembering a certain Chad. Tara gave a wide smile, shaking her head. "I don't have a boyfriend," she said amusedly.

"In any case, you're drunk," I reiterate, amused, sensing how Tara smelled of alcohol and most likely a perfume."Maybe you can give me a kiss when you're conscious of your actions," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

"Pottah, kiss your Hermione," she blurted out with a smile on her lips, and I rolled my eyes at her comment. "Actually, it's Ginny," I said, smiling slightly. "Whatever it is," mumbled Tara.

"Another time," I added, smiling at her amusing behavior.

Tara sighs loudly and leans against my chest, wrapping her arms around my body in search of warmth. My eyes curiously scanned the exit of the house, but the smile faded from my face when I saw Anika's eyes looking at me mischievously from a distance. Her girlfriend did the same, and the only one confused was the guy next to them.

Oh, crap. I'm in for an unpleasant interrogation.

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𖥔

summary ; steve has been admiring you for some time now, and you’ve been wanting him too, but one halloween party finally pushes you both to make a move.

pairing ; steve harrington × fem!reader

notes ; nsfw, pet-names (baby), self-fingering and female orgasm, mentions of bodily fluids, cussing, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol (let me know if i forgot any)

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

droplets of sweat gathered on the nape of your neck, pooling in the valley between your breasts, as you danced in the middle of the crowded room. the music was loud, almost too loud, but there was an undeniable electricity in the air. not from the atmosphere or the array of eyes on you from people you had never met. not even the alcohol that coursed through your system, but only between you and him. 

him, steve harrington, the only person whose attention truly mattered. 

you could feel his deep, lust-filled gaze boring into you from across the room, watching you so intently you were sure you were going to combust. he stood leaning up against the wall in the far corner, one arm raised to steady himself while the other held a cup to his lips. he adorned a recycled halloween costume as robin remained by his side, talking about who knows what, but despite the little nod here and there, all he could focus on was you. 

steve loved watching you. he loved watching the way your body moved to the music. he loved watching the way you would meet his gaze, the slightest glint of a smirk tugging at your lips before continuing to pretend that he wasn't even there. he specifically loved watching the way your skirt would hitch up your thighs the same way it would whenever you went into his work. 

he was sure he was the reason behind it. no, he knew he was the reason behind it. that you would purposely pull your skirt higher just for him, and even more so when you would bend over in the aisles pretending to look for something on the bottom shelf. being well aware that he was the only one that could see you. 

he knew what you were doing — that you knew what you were doing — stringing him along and playing hard to get. you were challenging him. you weren't giving in to him like every other girl that looked his way recently. 

you were making him work for it - for you. 

except tonight he had other plans. tonight, he was finally going to get what he wanted. at least, so he thought. 

"listen, i know it was my idea to crash this party, but it's kinda lame," eddie joins you, disrupting your dancing and slowing down your movements. "y'wanna find the others and get out of here?"

eddie was right. the party itself was lame. the only thing giving you any sort of entertainment was the free alcohol and the look on steve's face; steve who had now disappeared from where he stood only a moment ago as you peer over your friend's shoulder. 

the munson boy waits for you to answer, your attention now absent from the conversation as you scanned the room rapidly but there was no sign of him anywhere. eddie repeats his question, but it's not until he snaps his impatient fingers in your face that you finally return to him. 

"c'mon, let's find steve and robin and we'll go back to mine. can finally show you that new riff i learnt on the guitar," he imitates playing his sweetheart, hair bouncing in an unruly mess, as more bystanders begin to stare.

you laugh, giving him a slight nudge, "okay, munson. i'll search upstairs, you search downstairs."

the two of you pan off in different directions, you heading for the staircase by the front door as he began in the kitchen. as you pushed your way through the crowd, weaving yourself to the entryway, you spot robin at the bottom of them, but still no sign of steve. 

you call her name, but your voice falls on deaf ears over the music. she twirls around, hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt when she finally spots you and a relieved smile bestows upon her lips. 

"we're gonna go back to eddie's. where's steve?" you raise your voice, leaning towards her ear so that she could hear you. 

"he went upstairs. something about needing a moment away from the music,” she gestures upstairs where there were far less people. "i'll go get him."

she turns to head up the stairs but your hand catches her arm before she can so much as put her foot on the bottom step, "it's okay, i'll get him. you go find eddie and we'll meet you at his van."

robin nods, though there seems to be a knowing look in her eyes, a hint of a smirk as if there were some obvious secret only you didn't know about, and she traipses off toward the kitchen in search of eddie. 

once alone, you take one look up the large staircase and let out a deep breath. this was it, this was the moment you were finally going to tell steve that if he truly wanted you so bad, it was about time he did something about it. 

with each step, your heart seems to beat a little bit faster. the top of the stairs growing further away and when you finally get to them, there are only a couple of small groups of people scattered along the balustrade. you weave your way through the crowd once more to find the bathroom and just as you're about to knock, it opens before your hand can graze the wood with your knuckles. 

steve stands on the other side, eyes widening when he sees you, but the sight of him causes the breath in your throat to catch. his dishevelled hair, deep pink lips and dark eyes entrapped by a red tinge - he was truly a sight for sore eyes. 

"y/n," your name falls off the tip of his tongue like sweet honey, sending an immediate wave of bumps across your skin. "are you okay?" he looks almost concerned, brows furrowing when it takes you a moment to answer. 

"uh, yeah. we're going to ditch the party and, um, and..." you pause for a beat, words turning to a jumbled mess inside your head and all the confidence you had tried to bestill had disappeared. "... um, head back to eddie's. we're going to head back to eddie's." you repeat it a second time for safe measure. 

he nods, slowly, his eyes purposely falling to your lips as he exhales and leans back against the doorframe, "yeah. i mean, we could do that..." his words are even slower, pulling you in with each syllable. "or... we could talk about what's really going on here?"

this was it. this was the moment he was finally going to do something about it. 

"i have no idea what you're talking about." you lift your right shoulder into a shrug, pursing your lips before gazing up at him through your lashes. 

his lips part as he leans in closer, his face so close you could feel his alcohol-saturated breath on your cheek. "so, i'm just imagining you pulling up that pretty little skirt of yours on purpose, huh?"

you almost gasp, throat tightening with need. need for him. "apparently... though, it's nice to know you've been thinking about me."

the devilish grin on your face now infuriates him because, once again, you were in control. 

a breathy chuckle leaves his lips, fingers raking through his hair, "what am i going to do with you?"

"i don't know. what are you going to do with me?" a moment of realisation passes through his eyes. you want him to do something about it, want him to finally give in to the urges. all this time, he had been waiting, and now, here you were, allowing him to have what had been torturing him. 

while his head races with a million thoughts, in reality, only seconds had passed by, but those few seconds were more than enough to build a wall of tension. his gaze falls to your lips once more, and in a heated movement of passion, he finally takes the leap and presses his to them. 

soft moans reverberate through his neck, daring to carry you away as your fingers curl through his hair. you press yourself against him, almost knocking him over, but he answers your neediness and pulls you into the bathroom to close the door and lock it. 

all the tension, flirty looks and suggestive gestures that had been building up over the past few months had finally started to unravel in a matter of seconds. igniting you both so much so that you were sure to catch fire. 

the kisses seem to last forever, despite feeling rushed, and when he starts to trail his lips down the side of your neck, you're left a hot mess as you try to regain your breath. your core was already aching for attention, throbbing within your underwear, as his hands ran rampant all over your body. 

he glides his tongue across your skin, hair tickling your face as he begins to suck lightly, "you've no idea what you've done to me. how badly i've wanted this." he mumbles against you, sparking thought in your mind, and at this, you gently push him away and slide yourself back on the counter.

"is that so?" you breathe heavily. "tell me about it."

there's a glint of confusion in his eyes, brows slightly furrowing, as he stands between your legs. you had so much power over him and you planned to keep it that way. 

if you gave in to him so easily, all the long months you had spent teasing and hinting at him would've been for nothing. he needed to know that you weren't going to give yourself up to him just because he wanted it - he needed to earn you. 

"d'you really want me, harrington?" your words are low, breathy, sending shivers down his spine as he gazes into your eyes. 

"fuck," he nods, the word shakily falling from his lips and he swallows hard. "i want you so bad."

your lips quirk up once again, heart beating so fast it was thrumming in your ears. you lean forward, lips barely grazing his, and whisper, "tell me what you want... while you watch me touch myself." before planting your teeth around his bottom lip and tugging on it.

"w-what?" there's a hitch in his voice as you feel yourself growing wet within the confines of your underwear. he's stunned. eyes wide and jaw taut. 

"tell me what you want, and i'm yours, but... touch me, and you lose." your words are barely above a whisper but they're enough to send shivers down his body. 

his breath catches in his throat, letting out a small gasp, as his dewy brown eyes bore into you once again. only this time, there was determination clouding them. he wanted you. he wanted you so bad, and he was going to do everything he could to get you - to finally feel you.

he opens his mouth to speak but stops when you lean back against the mirror, hitching your skirt up and spreading your legs before him. revealing the black lace underwear you had worn in anticipation. the same pair that he had only ever caught glimpses of. 

"what's the matter, harrington? you like watching me... don't you?" you ask, coyly, batting your lashes. 

he groans, lulling his head back to reveal his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows once more. you lift a finger to touch the tip of his chin, letting it trail down his chest before landing between your legs. he watches your hand as if his life depended on it. 

you slowly trace the edges of your underwear where your core was barely covered. lips poking out around the thin material, gathering up your wetness when your finger starts to rub small circles over the top of them. 

"are you wet?" steve asks, and you nod, brows arching from the touch already. 

he shuffles nervously on his feet, pulling at the material around his crotch to give himself more growing space, but his eyes never leave you. not for a second. and they only double in size when you finally move your panties to the side, confirming your answer - your sweetness glistening under the dim bathroom glow. 

"holy f-fuck, y/n," he retorts with astonishment, almost falling to his knees at the sight of you before him. "you're killing me here."

"tell me more," you press the tips of your fingers to your tongue, collecting the saliva that had gathered, and gently start moving them across your sweet little bundle of nerves. 

"you're so fucking pretty, baby. i bet you're so warm too. i bet your pretty little pussy is so fucking warm," his words caress your ears as your movement starts to speed up, building up the sensation in your core. "i want you so bad. i want to feel you wrapped around my cock. every fucking inch of you."

a small chuckle falls from your lips, as you now press your middle finger into your hole. moaning at the feeling and slowly you begin to fuck yourself, all while steve's eyes remain trained on you. catching a glimpse of you fingering yourself but focusing on your facial expressions and the way you're making your own mouth fall open with ecstasy. 

"fuck your little hole, baby," he says, almost demandingly, which again makes you want to prove that you were still in control. so you add another finger. "fucking hell, i want to taste you so bad."

"mmm-yeah? you wanna taste me, harrington? you wanna know what my pretty little pussy tastes like?" your words are slightly muffled, as you continue to penetrate yourself. fingers gliding in and out of your goodness with ease, hitting just the right spot as the top of your palm rubs your clit, causing your hips to buck up a little. 

his hand involuntarily falls to his crotch, he didn't think you noticed. but it was a little hard not to when he begins palming himself through his pants as his eyes burned with so much desire. desire for you. 

you can feel the coil within your core on the verge of breaking, ready to snap as you near your end. the pleasure of it all becoming too much, as your hips buck more rapidly, face contorting and mouth falling agape. you grab onto steve's jacket with your free hand, gripping the material and bringing him closer. 

"f-fuck, i'm gonna cum," your breathing is unsteady, all over the place as you get closer, wrapping your arm around steve's head to grab a fistful of his hair. “make me cum, harrington.”

“show me how you cum, baby. show me how pretty you look when you let it all go. you do that and i’m gonna fill you up so good,” his voice is low as he presses his head to yours. “you want me to bury my cock in you, don’t you?”

"mmm- fuck yeah," your moan is cut off by steve's mouth as he presses his lips to yours once more. immediately gliding his tongue across them for permission and you give it to him, letting his tongue enter. 

and just like that, you're overcome with stimulation. a wave of sensation coursing through you but steve doesn't pull away, instead, he muffles your cries with kisses as he takes in the sight of you. completely vulnerable as you chase your high. chest rising and falling at a dramatic pace as your hips twitch and buck, eyes glazed over and brows arched. to hear the sweet noises you made, muffled or not. 

it was a sight he had only seen once, but, oh boy, did he want to see it again. 

"oh, fuck," you sigh, words split by your panting as you try to regain your breath. you still hadn't stopped fingering yourself, only slowed down the movements as your creamy goodness collected along them. 

"i'm that good of a kisser, huh?" steve chuckles, staring down at you still slowly pumping your digits into yourself, eyes unwavering from the wetness that covered them. 

"whatever makes you sleep better at night," you smirk, finally pulling your fingers from your pussy at the same time someone knocks on the door. "i guess that's our cue to go. eddie and robin will be waiting for us."

you both slide off the counter, your underwear slipping down to your feet as you quickly wash your hands. but rather than pulling them back on when you’re done, you gather them and scrunch them into a ball. 

"what are you doing?" steve asks, confused when you pull the pocket of his jacket open and slip them inside. 

"think of it as a parting gift," you smile, patting it closed then lean up to place a soft kiss on his lips, "plus, it's easier access for later."

[imaginesandsmut]

You Sweet Dumb Thing

Ethan Landry is a family orientated guy.

He fucking loves his family, he would do anything for them, he would kill for them. Correction, Ethan was going to kill for them.

Him, his sister and father had it all figured out, their plan to kill Sam and Tara for the death of Richie was something they had planned for the past year. They had all the cogs in the right place and everything was moving smoothly.

That was until he met Y/N.

At first, the new girl in the group who managed to be loved by everyone didn’t change his mind at all. He still went about sharpening his knives and training secretly in the gym to make sure he was powerful enough to take someone down like Chad.

But then she started to weasel her way into a friendship with him, and in turn, his mind.

He hated it. The way she would smile at every single fucking person on the street, how she would offer to help anyone in the group with whatever they needed, how she would smile so widely when she laughed that her eyes squeezed close. He hated it and he hated her.

But that didn’t stop him from fantasising about her during class, at work, with Chad, at night, in the shower, in his bed, in his dreams. Every time he watched a romantic movie, he thought of her. Every time he read a book, he couldn’t process the words because she was covering his thoughts. Even when he had the apartment to himself and got the opportunity to touch himself in peace, she was still there, whispering his name and moaning as he stroked himself.

She consumed his mind that he started to forget about his plans with his family.

Slowly, Chad started to catch on and even began teasing Ethan about his crush on her. Poking his ribs with his elbow whenever she joined the group at their study table, raising his eyebrows whenever she directed a question at Ethan. Chad even went so far to try and wingman him at the halloween party.

~~~~~~~~~

“Look at you man! You’re a snack!” Chad yells over the music, alcohol affecting his system. “Practically an entire meal!”

He was being genuine and kind, but Ethan felt a little ridiculous in his handmade cardboard robot costume that he didn’t feel like anything but a child.

“Now look over there, see Y/N?” He’s pointing to the makeshift dance floor, the girl is question swaying her hips to the music. “How do you think she looks?”

“She’s gorgeous.”

Ethan used to hide his feelings for Y/N from Chad, scrunching his nose and shaking his head whenever Chad questioned him about why he would stare at her for so long. But now, he can’t hide it. Even Tara and Sam knew about his crush.

“Perfect!” Chad shouted, handing another shot to Ethan. “Go ask her out.”

“No, I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” Chad’s tipsy demeanour was making Ethan annoyed, the frat-jock stereotype didn’t even realise how far above them Y/N was.

She was dancing with some random girls she just met 20 minutes prior, laughing at what they were saying whilst trying to keep up with the beat of the song. Her short Princess Peach dress left little to the imagination, her hips moving seductively as she danced to the song.

“We’re friends, I can’t ruin that with her!” Ethan wishes they would stop talking about this, the music pounding on his ears that he has resorted to shouting so Chad could hear him. “And she’d say no.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

~~~~~~~~~

Ethan’s father killed Jason and Greg that night, those Ghostface killer wannabes had it coming and Ethan was annoyed they didn’t get to the boys earlier. Then Ethan’s father attacked Sam and Tara in the bodega, with a shotgun of all weapons.

Ethan, his sister and father were together in his father’s apartment, going over the next part of their plan. Quinn was frantic about who to kill next and that she wants to be the one to do it, Ethan stayed quiet.

“Ethan?” His father spoke up, softly punching his son's knee in an effort to gain some attention back to the conversation.

“Hmm?” Ethan looked up from his position hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped and eyes trained on the floor.

“What do you think?” His father questions, confused as to why his son, who was once obsessed with their plan, now was silent and mentally absent.

“Think of what?” Ethan tried to shake himself back to reality, sitting back on the sofa and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Quinn killing Y/N?”

It was like ice water was dumped over him, his heart stopped beating and his hands grew sweaty. He forced his face to stay neutral, trying his hardest to not give away any emotion.

“Why are we killing Y/N? She’s not an official member of the group.” Ethan’s voice wavered slightly, he hoped that his family didn’t notice. “And why as a solo kill?”

“We can’t have too many people in the apartment tomorrow night when you attack them.” Quinn spoke slowly, twirling her hair around her pointer finger. “Plus I think it’s best to get her out of the way before you try killing the group, you know, in case you freeze up when you see her.”

“Why would I freeze up?”

“Cause you’ve had a hard-on for her for months,” Quinn laughed, “it’s better if I do it tonight and get her out of the way for you.”

“No.” Ethan’s voice was harsh, fueled by anger and fear. His father and sister looked at him, their faces as confused as ever.

“No?” His father wanted desperately to try and understand his son in this moment.

“Quinn can’t kill her.” He knew that he would need to give a good explanation, a reason as to why he was messing up their plan. “I should kill her.”

“You don’t have the balls to do it.” Quinn scoffed, brushing off her brother’s attempt at being tough.

“I’ll fucking do it,” Ethan was looking at his father in the eye, “I need to have this.”

Somehow it worked, a mere hour later Ethan was turning the key Y/N gave him in its slot and pushed her apartment door open, creeping through the living room and towards her bedroom, and towards the sound of running water.

His Ghostface mask obscured his vision slightly but he could still take in the scene around him. Printed posters of her favourite movies covered the walls, colourful decor scattered the hallway. He entered her bedroom, knife in hand as he took in the scene.

Her bed was messy, some soft teddies thrown over the purple floral sheets. Ethan took off his mask to see the room better since this is the first time he’s ever been in it, he felt like he was walking on holy ground.

The brown haired boy pushed his curls from his eyes to look at the pictures she had on her walls - lots of her, Tara and Mindy, some of her and Chad, even some of her and his sister, Quinn.

The ones he stared at were the many pictures of himself and Y/N, a lot of them candids but some of them posed. He felt a surge of pride as he outranked Chad when it came to how many times he was featured on her wall.

The Ghostface mask and knife in his hands grew heavy, as if they were trying to actively fall out of his hands.

He can’t do this.

His thoughts here growing wild and anxious, overloaded with fear as to what he was preparing himself to do. Ethan can’t kill her, he would rather slit his own throat than do it to her. He even realised that he would rather kill someone for her.

The sound of the shower had stopped and Ethan began freaking out, it was now or never. But in that moment, he backed out. He was happy that he took this job from Quinn, but now he needed to find a way to get out and keep his family away from her.

The bathroom door began to open and Ethan knew it was too late for him to run, either she would catch him or someone else would. Instead, he stuffed the mask and knife under her bed haphazardly. The boy struggled with the black robe that covered his body, pulling it roughly over his head and also shoving it under her bed.

Then, quickly trying to find a way to explain why he was in her room, he walked over to her desk and started looking for her Econ notes, his cheeks were hot in anxiety and fear.

“Ethan?”

Her voice was soft and nervous, as if it wasn’t going to be him. Ethan’s shoulders tensed as he slowly turned around, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Hey?”

“What are you doing?” She was dressed in a small top and even smaller underwear, the flimsy fabric of her top showed her nipples through the fabric whilst her underwear were dainty little lacy things that made Ethan feel hot. 

“Why are you in my room?”

He realised he was ogling her, just staring at her body and she used her arms to cover her chest, not moving from her spot on the other side of the room.

“I’m so sorry.” Ethan pushed himself to say, darting his eyes down as he played with the paper containing her Econ notes in his hands. “I just needed to run in and grab your notes for Econ, I didn’t think you would be here.”

She didn’t say anything, just stared at him whilst trying to cover herself with her arms. He gulped in the silence, just staring down at his hands. She was probably doubting his excuse, wondering why he didn't send a text or ask for them the next day. Ethan’s mind was swirling with his stupidity, he should've just ran.

Ethan has imagined so many times being in Y/N’s room whilst she was wearing that exact outfit, but also in those dreams, he’s much more confident and makes a fucking move.

Now, he can’t even look at her. Too scared that if he takes in her body once more, he’ll get a boner and embarrass himself even further. Even thinking about the fact that she’s standing only 5 steps from him in a see-through top and lace underwear was making him hot and flustered.

He looked at his feet and saw his Ghostface mask poking out from underneath her bed, the knife next to it gleaming in the soft warm light of her bedside table lamp. Y/N was so stupid to be so defenceless, if only she knew how he had protected her from being stabbed to death by his sister, if only she knew of all the things he does for her. If Ethan wasn’t around, Y/N would be so lost, like a little kitten begging for shelter, and Ethan was the only person who could be that for her.

Y/N should be thankful for him.

A new feeling came over Ethan like a cloud rolling over the hills, powerful and daunting as the new darkness showed in his eyes. Confidence began to pump through the blood in his veins, giving him a new aura that even Y/N noticed.

Y/N’s demeanour changed from confused to scared, she had never seen Ethan like this. Her feet started to shuffle back, but the more distance she made between them, Ethan matched her steps and kept the distance.

“Ethan?” She sounded lost, it was like his name was the only word she knew. “Are you feeling good?”

The boy started to grin, closing the distance between them whilst Y/N tried to move further away. He could see it in her eyes, the soft glow of not just fear, but of heat that was spreading all over her body, Although she was stepping away from him, her chest was rising and falling rapidly in anticipation, her eyes were heavy and lidded, and her cheeks were blooming with splotches of red.

She wanted him.

“Do you have any idea how badly I've wanted to be alone with you? To see you like this?” Her back hit the wall and her hands broke apart from her chest to feel the wall behind her. “I’ve been so stressed out lately, please help me?”

“Help you how?” Y/N’s voice was deathly quiet, Ethan had almost missed it due to the blood pounding in his ears almost making him deaf. His brown eyes were pouring into hers, causing her to melt inwardly and her knees were starting to buckle.

“Be a good girl and let me touch you, yeah?”

He could see the range of emotions cross over her face, most of them were confusion and intrigue. Ethan will admit, the nerdy virgin facade he puts on isn't completely false, that definitely was him a year or so ago. But after Richie died, something snapped in the Kirsch family and Ethan grew out of the geek he used to be and became someone completely new, someone sure of themself and hollow.

But the nerd is who Y/N knew, who she was comfortable with. This new person in front of her wasn't the Ethan she was friends with, but he could tell she was turned on nonetheless. Ethan’s body was now pressed up against her, his hands on either side of her head whilst he lowered his lips to ghost over her skin. Her breath hitches as he knows she can feel how hard he is against her, her hips involuntarily bucking.

“You need to tell me you want this.” Even though Ethan was putting on a cool demeanour, he couldn’t help the anxious pumping of his heart at the idea that she’ll say no and push him away.

He waited with baited breath until she nodded her head, it was slight and nervous but it was all he needed before his teeth sunk into her neck, pulling at the skin and hoping to leave a mark.

Y/N moaned loudly into the still silence of the room, her hands flying to pull on his hair, either to pull him away or urge him on, Ethan didn’t know. His brain was foggy from the lust, acting on his primal instincts with the need to own her. Y/N’s panting filled his ears, her hips moving softly against his own.

“Keep going.” Ethan was boarding on being domineering and demanding, to being whiny and pathetic. “Please let me feel you.”

The girl took his words and began grinding herself onto him, heavy and lusty pants. The friction was making Ethan needy and it was making Y/N beg for more. Ethan’s lips were biting the skin on her shoulder and neck, hands reaching underneath the top to tug at her boobs.

“Please,” her head was thrown back as she was desperate for air, “please, Ethan.”

She could feel his smile against her skin, “what do you want, baby?”

“Please.” Her lips were brushing against his temple, the curls tickling her. “Kiss me, touch me, do something.”

“Anything for you.”

Ethan’s mouth crashed onto hers, his tongue already slipping past her lips. It was breathy and hot, teeth clashing as the kiss was too fast for them to even understand. God, Y/N was such a pretty thing but Ethan knew she was trying hard to keep up.

“Take your time,” his right hand left the wall beside her head and started playing with the lace at the border of her underwear, the little bow sewn into the pink fabric gaining some attention from his middle finger. “Let me show you what I can do for you.”

His middle finger moved from the bow and down, touching her through the fabric of her underwear. His fingers reached her pussy through the soft and thin fabric, her wetness already soaking the fabric. It made Ethan laugh; how easily she could get wet for him and he hadn’t even done anything.

“Do you need me here?” Ethan already knew the answer, he just wanted the ego boost of her saying it aloud.

“Mhm.” Her voice was soft and her eyes were screwed shut, but he wanted more.

“Say it.” Ethan’s tone was darker, almost like a yell with how quiet they had both been previously.

“I need you to touch me, Ethan.” Y/N pulled his hair and dragged his face closer, sealing their lips together in a heated his once more before panting out, “please touch me, baby.”

Ethan felt like he could have made her cum through her underwear with how desperate she was for him, but he wasn't that cruel. The boy dipped his fingers past the waistband and dragged them through the wetness between her folds, earning a short and stifling gasp of air from Y/N. She felt so soft, like nothing he’s ever touched before. He moved his two fingers through her slick, his thumb coming down to circle her clit and being awarded with a moan from her, still pressed to his lips.

Ethan pulled away from her lips with a groan, realising how lightheaded his baby was becoming from the kiss, only clumsily moving her lips against his. A soft smile graced his features, spit covering his lips as little heart eyes replaced his pupils.

Y/N panted as she waited for him to say something, but then his index finger pushed into her. He curled it slowly, pumping it in and out before filling her with another one. Y/N’s hands moved from his hair and held onto his shoulders, pulling him closer as her legs were starting to give out. He groans, revelling in the way she reacts to him.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” Ethan whispers, more for his own ears than Y/N’s as she wasn’t even paying attention to him. Instead she was pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck, a physical plea for him to continue.

Her breathing was heavy, whining in pain as his fingers picked up the pace as he stretched her out. Her brain was foggy and numb from the feeling, Ethan can tell from the way she only moans as a reply. She’s clawing at Ethan’s neck as she kisses him, begging him for more than what he is giving her.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” The words of affirmation stirred a need inside her, pushing her to buck her hips and match the movement of his fingers. “Taking me so well.”

Ethan curls his fingers and quickens his pace, fucking her harder with just his fingers. He looked at her face and began ingraining this moment in his memory of how she looks - the way her eyes were glazing over and her jaw went slack with each thrust, his lips so pillowy and wet that he could imagine them taking his dick.

Just when Y/N began tightening around Ethan’s fingers, he pulled them out and caught her with his other arm as she practically fell to the floor. Her body hot and sweaty but not satisfied. She looked up at Ethan just to witness him put his fingers in his mouth to taste her, holding eye contact sharp and steady.

“Want you to finish around me.”

It was all the explanation Ethan gave her before walking backwards so his legs hit the edge of the bed, sitting down and pulling her underwear down before placing her on top of him. She moaned at the friction of her being bare against his rough jeans, mindlessly rubbing herself over his crotch that was now growing and straining against the fabric.

“You like this, don’t you?” Ethan asks her, using his hands to guide her desperate and sloppy movements. “Bet none of the words I’m saying right now are getting through your pretty little head, huh?”

Ethan’s eyes darkened as the image of Y/N getting herself off on his lap was not only something he constantly daydreamed about, but was now a reality. His dick, now frantic to be touched itself, pushed Ethan to turn them around and lay her on the bed.

He took his time taking off his clothes, watching as she squirms on the bed in anticipation. His awkwardly tall body cages her in as he hovers above her, she’s so delicate and pliable, something that he needs to protect.

Ethan holds himself at Y/N’s entrance, rubbing his head through her folds and gathering enough of her slick that he could’ve came right then and there. He held eye contact as he pushed himself in, both groaning at the sensation and whimpering from how good they both felt.

Y/N was like a dream, so easy and manipulatable, she would let Ethan do anything to her right in this moment. His trusting, darling girl.

Ethan started moving with fervent need, her boobs rubbing against his chest with every motion, causing him to become whiny. She tightened around him so good, her small gasps of air and kisses to his neck were so loving. All he wanted to do was pound into her so fast, to hear her screaming of pleasure and ruin her for any other man.

But she deserved sweet, sticky and hot sex to keep her in a daze whilst he killed her friends in a few hours. Then he can come back and ruin her for good, fucking her whilst she cried - about her friends or because of what he was doing to her, Ethan didn’t care. He controlled himself by gripping the sheets, squeezing the flower patterned fabric until in threatened to tear.

“So good.” She moaned, one hand tugging on his hair and the other scraping down his back. “Please, Ethan.”

It was obvious Y/N wanted something, her mind just too cockdrunk and dumb that she couldn’t form words properly.

“You sweet, dumb thing.” He groaned into her neck, one hand in her hair whilst the other dipped down to circle her clit. “Nothing is going through your head but me, yeah?”

She just nodded, mumbling incoherent words and crying to some higher deity. Ethan’s hips started snapping with a newfound speed, pulling in and out of her so quickly that even he was starting to grow stupid from how good she felt, how well she was taking him. His groans turned into whimpers as he buried his head in her neck and continued his previous assault, biting her and marking her up.

Y/N’s hips were bucking to the same rhythm of his, matching his speed whilst squeezing around him in anticipation for her release.

“That’s a good girl.” Although Ethan’s words were confident, his delivery was breathy and submissive. “Taking me so good.”

Y/N started to tear up, the feeling of Ethan touching all over her body was almost too much. His mouth came to her face to kiss her tears away, pressing his lips to hers so she could taste the salty liquid as they kissed, soaking up her moans and whimpers with his mouth.

Ethan broke apart from the kiss and let his head fall back into the crook of her neck, catching a glimpse of the Ghostface mask and knife under her bed. The mask looked back at Ethan, a symbol of the rules he was breaking in this very moment. His father and sister would be livid if they found out what Ethan decided to do when he promised he was going to slit Y/N’s neck.

But the way she was squeezing around him, tugging at his hair and clawing at his back, legs wrapped around him and pinning his body close to her, the small sounds of pleasure that forced its way past her pretty plush lips. More importantly, the feeling of himself inside her, he could even see it, the bulge in her belly showing itself every time he pushed in, then disappearing when he pulled back out.

It all felt better than any kill has.

“Ethan,” Y/N huffed, “I’m gonn- I’m close.”

The lovesick girl had her eyes screwed shut so she couldn’t see Ethan push the Ghostface mask further underneath the bed so he could continue his assault on her, quickening his pace and bending down to take one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and biting on it.

Tears rolled down her face harder, pouring out of her eyes and she could barely get any words out. Almost as if he found a button within her, Y/N gasped and tightened around him, walls convulsing as she came around his cock. Her face in a state of bliss with her contractions around him have Ethan following not so far from behind, his moans and whimpers of pleasure hot in her ear.

And in this moment Ethan had realised that if it came to it, he would kill everyone, including his own family, to keep her.

[darlingsfandom]

Little Lamb

AU: Priest Cillian x Fem Reader!

Father Murphy x Fem Reader!

Warnings: Angst! Religious themes, loss of virginity, age gap, p in v, raw sex. Priest kink!

It burned, the bitter taste of jealousy dancing on your tongue as you watched your priest simply talking to one of the church moms. Jealousy and lust have been running through your veins for years. Your family moved to town when you were only six years old and at the time church was fun! All the stories about Noah's ark and all the animals but you're not a child anymore. You grew up in this church watching all the new babies be blessed, all the family picnics, trunk or treats over the years and when you reached puberty it was terrible. You only had one person in mind, Father Murphy. He was double your age, a man of god! He watched you grow there was no way he'd ever look at you in the devils light. He was always sweet to you, thanked you for all your time involved with the church, he'd even let you take some extra candy during Halloween for your help, but you'd refuse because you were worried about your soul.

Soul? You scoffed at the memory while you stood in the cafeteria of the church helping clean up the tables after everyone else left besides a few goers that liked to have a silent prayer up by the alter. You were convinced you had no soul. You were old enough to decide on your own who you wanted to be and now that you were living on your own you were trying to figure new things out, but one thing never changed: your feelings for father Murphy. You stood there clenching a tray tightly as you watched Father Murphy talk to the church mom, your nostrils flared when her hand ran over his arm. Something snapped inside of you causing the metal tray to fall to floor with a loud clank. Both of them looked in your direction making your face heat up with embarrassment. The air became thick as you quickly picked up the tray and tossed it to its correct spot before sprinting off towards your safe spot in the church.

Bubbles of jealousy stirred in your stomach as you hid in the storage closet that kept all the decorations for the holidays. A soft knock came on the door making your body freeze out of fear.

"Y/N? I know you're in there? Are you okay?" Father Murphy spoke softly as you moved around the decorations to slowly open the door. "Oh my, what's the matter?" His hand gently grabbed your cheek. His scanned every black stained tear on your cheeks, darkened pupils and redness bursting on your cheeks.

"It's non of your concern father!" Your words spit out like venom as you removed his hand from your face before turning your face back into the room.

"You are in the house of God! You do not speak that way to your priest." Father Murphy grabbed your arm, pulling you forward and stumbling on your feet.

"I'm in the house of sin!"

"And what does that mean my child?"

"Ask that whore you were just all over!"

Before you could speak a sharp sting came across your face as father Murphy had slapped you in the mouth. You grabbed your face in shock.

"I'm sorry to have done that you my child.. but..

"I'm not a child!" You blurted out before stomping your foot. Father Murphy straightened himself out before grabbing your hand and taking you back into his office. His office has not changed once in over fifteen years everything was the same. You sat down on the old leather cracked chair as he sat down at his desk with his hands folded.

"Would you like to explain yourself for dat little outburst?" He leaned forward with stern eyes lingering over you while you sat there with your exposed legs crossed over each other while slightly swinging your black heel off your foot and arms crossed under your chest to push your breasts up out of your yellow sundress. You chewed on the inside of your cheek while looking out the window of his office before he cleared his throat to make you look back at him.

"I already told you!" Your words were lashing out and he couldn't believe your attitude. This wasn't you. Not his sweet little lamb. Father Murphy had watched you grow. He even gave you the sex talk when you were seventeen because your parents had caught you almost kissing a boy when you were studying. He couldn't understand how you've become so twisted.

"Lashing out, stomping your feet, calling people names, tats actin like a child. Now tell me, wats ta matter wit ya?" His voice was filled with concern this time.

You huffed. "Like you actually care."

"Of course I care, if I didn't I wouldn't have ya in here. Why'd ya tink I didn't care bout ya?"

You unfolded your arms and placed your hands on your lap before smoothing your dress. Blood was pumping like crazy through out your veins when you straightened up and looked dead into his eyes.

"Ever since she showed up at the church, you've acted like I don't exist! You've tossed me aside like a cheap whore! Well I got news for you father , I'm not a whore! I've been saving myself for you since you gave me the sex talk years ago! I've never even touched myself not once! Never even kissed a boy because of you! And she waltzed right in here and suddenly I'm not yours anymore! I'm not special to you anymore! I'm nothing to you!" Your eyes bursted with stinging tears as your heart ripped out of your chest. Father Murphy quickly shot up of his chair before he wrapped his arms around you.

"None of that is true my little lamb! Well at least the last part. Of course you're special to me. I watched you grow into a beautiful young lady. I've always been there for you. Just because we have a new member of the church doesn't mean I'd forget you !" His fingers trailed down your back slowly while you hid your face in his chest. Father Murphy moved his hand up to your hair and stroked your hair making you calm down until you were breathing normally.

Father Murphy pulled away slowly to look at your face. His thumbs wiped away your tears as he held your face in his hands. Both of you stood there silently searching for something in each others eyes. You sighed softly before he cupped your chin and lifted it upwards. His eyes scanned over you again before stepping away to grab something from his desk. He grabbed your hand while holding his prayer beads and walked out of his office until you two were standing at the altar. No one was around , even she had left which made you happy, but father Murphy pulling on your hand brought you back.

"Kneel before me." He had his head held high.

You kneeled before placing your hands in your lap with soft eyes glancing up at him until he placed the beads around your neck like a necklace.

"Y/N , you have admitted to the sin of jealousy and lust. Ta lord has heard of your sins. As your priest I may cleanse ya of yer sins if you ask for it. I shall take away yer sins and re bless your soul if ya dedicate yerself ta me and only me. God knows yer dedicated him days why were asking for his blessing for us!" His hand stayed placed on your head as he spoke. "Do you child, truly wish ta be mine and only mine? To be me only love?" His voice broke a little which made you place your hand over his and pull yourself to up.

"Father Murphy, I poured myself to you. I don't want you to pity me. Do you truly have feelings and urges for me?" Your eyes were pleading as he looked into yours.

"As God as our witness, I have. I have wanted ya for a long time but being a priest ... and you being so young!" You placed your fingers over his lips before standing up straight as his hands cupped your face, his lips connected to yours slowly. Your noses bumped against each other making you giggle which made him smile.

Something took over in you as father Murphy kissed you again. Your hands ran up his chest before clutching onto it. His hands gripped onto your arms making you whimper against his lips. "Take me father, please." Both of you had just declared each other as yours before he grabbed your hands and took you back into his office. He looked through his stuff before grabbing a set of keys. He took you to a room that you had never seen before, the door lead down into a basement that was surprisingly in excellent condition.

"Father? What is this ?" You asked following him down. When he flipped the light switch on you seen that it was fully furnished with a queen sized bed, simple black and white bedding, a statue of the Virgin Mary and lots of candles.

"Tis is where I live sweetheart." Father Murphy walked you over and sat you down on the edge of his bed before sitting next to you. His hand rested upon your knee giving it a squeeze which made you tingle.

"Take me father, please?" His hand rubbed against your cheek, pulled you in closer and kissed you gently. His tongue pushed against your lips which you open your lips slightly so he could slide his tongue in. He tasted like coffee and toothpaste. Fever rushed over your body making you climb into his lap. Father Murphy held your hips while licking your tongue before pulling away. You leaned back into him and wrapped your lips around the tip of tongue, sucking gently his hands ran over your back while pulling down the zipper on your dress. The fabric fell down exposing your white silky bra to him. Father Murphy pushed you off carefully and stood you up so your dress could pool around your ankles.

"Wow, my little lamb, ya really did blossom into a beautiful woman!" His hands ran down your curves giving your love handles a squeeze before turning you around to look at your ass. Your cheeks turned pink when you felt his hand gripping your ass. "Such a beautiful woman." His lips attacked the back of your neck. Your knees felt weak making you grip his arm as he wrapped it around your waist. Father Murphy continued to kiss your neck while groping your breasts from behind and pressing his hard on against your ass.

In a matter of seconds Father Murphy had your bra unhooked on the floor and you laying on your back on his bed.

"Yer a goddess, I know shouldn't say tat but tis true!" He unbuttoned his pants slowly while you laid there biting your bottom lip. His pants were on the ground before he climbed back into bed with you. His fingers trailed over your thighs while looking into your eyes. The air was thick again , your heart was going to burst into a million pieces . How is this real life? How is this happening when a few moments ago you were pouring your heart out.

Father Murphy kneeled above you grabbing your plush thighs and pulling them up to look down at your sex. It was glistening with your arousal as he looked at in awe before looking into your eyes. He leaned into you brushing his dick against your pussy so he could kiss you gently. His fingers laced with yours while he looked at you again. You were below him with such pink kissable lips, your neck covered his small bruises from his kisses, the way his prayer bead hung on your neck and laid between your breasts, you were his personal porn star. The only thing he left you in besides his beads was your heels.

"Tank ya Lord fer me little lamb. She's been a holy girl til now, she's mine. She's da perfect woman tat I've always needed and wanted. May ya bless her lord as we act in sin, she might be da devil ta others but she's perfect fer me." Father Murphy prayed above you. His words struck your core making your thighs clench before he opened them again.

"Just tell me if ya need me to stop sweetheart!" Father Murphy grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart before he slid the head of his aroused cock inside of you slowly. Your nose scrunched up as a tear dare shed from your eye while he pushed into you. "I have ya darlin, just relax." His cock twitched inside of you.

This was all new yet familiar to you. Your nails dug into his shirt pulling the fabric a little you felt the sting slowly disappear. The room suddenly felt full like everyone was watching the two of you, but when you looked back into Father Murphys eyes you felt safe, loved, protected. His free hand pressed against your cheek and stroked it gently as he gave one final push because now he was all the way inside of you.

"Oh! Fuck!" You cried out as your hips flew up making him moan at the sudden motion.

"It's okay darlin, I'm all the way inside of you." His fingers traced along your jawline before moving over your nipples giving them each a pinch before he slowly started thrusting into you. It was a little weird and messy as he held your hips making sure to get an angle that felt good since you laid there whimpering. Once he held your hips up and slightly twisted his fat cock was hitting you just right making you moan his name while dragging your warm hands over his sweaty chest.

"Yer so pretty like tis , yer always pretty but us actin in sin together ! Ya really could be a little devil!" Your lips curved into a smirk while he thrusted in and out of you at a faster pace making the smirk turn into an O! Your eyes locked in on his as a weird feeling waved over your body.

"Stop stop stop! Father I feel funny!" You tried to push him away when he grabbed your wrist and slowly stopped.

"Wat are ya feelin?"

"Like my insides are going to burst, my nipples are sore ... I ..

"Yer gonna cum honey! It's your first orgasm! It's gonna be okay. I got ya, just relax and let go!" His words went right to your core! Your body jolted forward and with a cry of his name you were dragging your nails into his arms while squeezing your eyes shut. You collapsed into his chest while his own orgasm hit him hard. He filled you with his cum making your eyes widen as he groaned into your ear.

Father Murphy pulled out of you slowly while gently laying you back down on the bed. He disappeared for a second before coming back with a wet wash cloth and slowly cleaned you up before getting into bed with you. "Don't ya worry honey. It's us now. No one will come between us. Yer me girl from now on."

"I thought priest couldn't have girlfriends." You curled into his side while he wrapped his arm around your waist. His fingers played with your hair while you laid your head on his chest.

"No priest can have girlfriends, I just waited for mine to finally get it out there." Father Murphy kissed your head gently before he gave you another kiss. This is all you ever wanted and you finally got it.

[cranberrymoons]

may your days be merry

prompt: angst with a happy ending (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 942 rated: t tags: post-s2, steve has head trauma, eddie sells drugs

welcome to Day 14 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The headaches start shortly after the second time he gets his ass kicked. 

The ass-kicking happens around Halloween, and the headaches start around Thanksgiving, and he buys weed from Eddie Munson for the first time around Christmas. 

He can mark it out like that: holiday after holiday, little milestones in the deterioration of his brain. He wonders if it’s going to do something to him long-term: the weed or the ass-kicking or the headaches themselves or maybe even all of it. 

Probably. 

A guy doesn’t usually get his brain punched through the back of his skull without some sort of lasting consequence.

The first time he buys, it’s out of desperation more than any real desire to get high; it’s been days since he properly slept, migraines acting up again and making it so that his scalp feels like it’s going to dissolve into atoms and vibrate off his head if he actually lays down all the way, so he’s been sleeping sitting up. 

Sort of, propped on a stack of pillows culled from the rest of the house, but it’s not exactly the most comfortable arrangement. One of the guys on the swim team had mentioned that weed can help chill you out, turn off your brain, make it so your thoughts don’t go spinning out in a thousand different directions like Steve’s do if he’s not careful about keeping a tight hold on his head.

Literally, figuratively.

His head’s all sorts of out to get him lately, ever since last year. 

The first headache, the worst one – not worst in the sense of worst pain, but worst in the sense of like… he just wasn’t expecting it, and so it really fucked up his whole week – that headache came two days before Thanksgiving, when he was on a plane halfway between Indianapolis and New York to visit his grandparents. His parents were sitting two rows ahead of him and unable to help as the changing pressure in the cabin turned his brain to splinters.

By the time they’d landed, the headache had gone away, and so he didn’t mention it, but then it came again and again and again, and so now he’s here. 

Here in the doorway of Eddie Munson’s trailer, feeling like he hasn’t slept in days, because he hasn’t. Feeling like there’s nothing holding him up except sheer force of will. Feeling so, so impossibly alone. 

When Eddie answers the door, there’s an old movie playing on the TV in the background, something festive and cheerful with a bunch of songs in it. Steve’s eyes catch on the screen as he watches Bing Crosby tap dance in technicolor.

“What do you want?” Eddie repeats, ducking his head to force Steve to meet his eye. He even snaps his fingers a few times to get his attention. “Weed? Coke? Party drugs?”

Steve blinks, long and slow. He sways a little on the spot, clears his throat. 

“Not partying,” he says quietly. He looks down at his feet in his sneakers and Eddie’s feet in his socks, the two of them only a foot apart. “I just need to sleep.”

A line appears between Eddie’s eyebrows. He tilts his head toward Steve. “Are you like… okay?”

And that’s – Steve lets out a little laugh that sounds something like a sob, and that’s – 

“No.” He runs a hand back through his hair. “No, man. I’m not okay.”

No one’s asked him that in at least a year. He feels like crying. He thinks he actually might.

Eddie nods slowly, taking him in. “Right on,” he says. Then he opens the door a little wider. “You want to come in? Christmas movie marathon.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, looks between Eddie and the room behind him. “You want to hang out with me?”

“If you’ll deign to grace me with your royal presence,” Eddie says. He widens his eyes, and it’s a little teasing. A little funny, and Steve feels the corners of his mouth twitch with the first smile he’s had in days as Eddie swings the door even wider, letting him inside with a weird little bow and a flourish. “My liege.”

“What’re you watching?” Steve asks as he shrugs out of his coat. 

He hangs it neatly on the hook near the door and looks around the room as Eddie clatters to the fridge to pull out two beers, cracking both open and passing one to him. Steve accepts it, leaning his hip against the counter as Eddie stares at him from where he’s relaxed back against the sink.

“White Christmas,” he says. “But it sucks.”

Steve laughs a little – an actual laugh, bubbling up out of his chest before he can stop it. He takes a swig of his own beer and glances back toward the screen. 

“Got any other options?”

Eddie grins. “Gremlins.”

Steve frowns, shaking his head. “That’s not a Christmas movie.”

“What?” Eddie scoffs. “Please, it totally is.”

“In what way is Gremlins a Christmas movie?”

Eddie’s eyes flash as he pushes himself off the counter, giving Steve a look as he passes by on his way to the living room. He collapses on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. 

“Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

And Steve – exhausted and relieved because his headache is all but forgotten – crosses the room to join him, curling his legs under himself as he sinks down to sit. Eddie’s eyes skate over him as he reaches for the remote, face unreadable, and Steve just smiles back.

[also on ao3]

[suraemoon]

Could I please request jealous Rosie hcs or Rosie reaction when you are the initiate the first move hcs. Thank you 😊

I’ll admit right now that the turn out time for this is embarrassing. You’ve caught me in…I think the most stressful week of 2024 so far buttt here we are. My deepest apologies. I’ll be better. Here’s some Rosie. 🌹

Jealousy, Jealousy:

Rosie is very protective of his girl but not overbearing. He knows how secure the relationship is and trusts you to make good decisions. But, of course he notices when another man is getting a little too friendly. When at public places, Rosie doesn’t usually get far enough away for stuff to like this to happen, but due to how drop dead gorgeous you are (the pretty smile that can brighten up anyone’s day, the sparkling eyes that resemble a steady pond, the million dollar legs that give Betty Grable a run for her money) the bold men stay bold. Laughing at things that aren’t meant to be jokes, getting a little too close, etc. He is the king of passive aggression and snark. It’s so obvious that he’s annoyed. Just by the tone of his voice, anyone with common sense can tell he isn’t amused.

An arm wrapped around your waist, interlocking fingers, a random kiss to the temple.

Increased use of the words “us” and “we”

Just plain out saying that you’re his ____ (girlfriend, fiancée, wife, etc)

He’s not subtle but that’s because he has no reason *to* be subtle. He’ll happily let the whole would know he’s yours and you’re his. He’ll redirect conversations, end them as soon as possible, whisk you away into the crowd.

The next day he casually comes across the same man while you’re at home, safe and absolutely clueless of the intersection. That talk isn’t pretty, I’ll tell you that. He’s a lawyer, he has a way with words. It’s direct, serious, and straight to the point. It’s in his job description to argue but it isn’t really an argument, due to the fact that the other man is left terrified of Rosie. Stood frozen in place, shocked. It’s like getting yelled at by a stern parent. Let’s just say…you never see that man again and if you do, he steers clear of your path like you’re a black cat on a halloween night.

A Feminine First Move:

Anon, you’ve got the thought of Rosie’s reaction to a girl making the first move stuck in my head and it’s so adorable. I’m thinking it happens when he first comes to Thorpe Abbotts and is so awkward and dorky. (Talking about flying planes in underwear, you know…the usual) His nickname is Rosie for more reasons then one, he has the prettiest blush. When you walk up to him offering a drink at the bar followed by a slow dance to the romantic jazz of the band, his cheeks are a shade of pink for the whole rest of the night. He’s taken back over how a girl as pretty as you can be so invested, so quick. Imagine his awkward conversation fillers; your siren eyes are so distracting, staring deep into his soul. You listen intently to every single word, a trait that’s appreciated but nervewracking at the same time. He stutters as he talks, trying not to bring up anything embarrassing that would bring it all to ruin.

He tries to keep up with your flirting by replying with some romantic remarks of his own. Soon he gets into the groove and you two have such a magnetic energy. It’s dazzling, it’s exciting, it’s everything. He really gets into his element once the surprise wears off. That doesn’t stop him from reverting back to his dorky, adorable self once you give him a kiss goodnight, your red lipstick on his pink cheek. He waits until your out of sight to dance his way to bed. You two dream of eachother that night. It’s the blossoming of something new, something special.

the dancing i’m talking about lol

[morning-star-joy]

baby, it's Halloween, and we can be anything

a stranger's heart without a home chapter 17

Pairing: friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: Dina drags you out to Jackson's first Halloween dance. Joel begins to realize some things after a conversation with an unlikely person. Your night with Joel ends up going in a new direction.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Explicit Smut (18+ Only MDNI) oral m receiving, unprotected p in v sex, lowkey hints of soft!dom Reader, yes ma'am kink, praise kink, edging/orgasm denial if you squint. Jealousy from both sides (nothing too intense), Angst, Mutual Pining (holy shit they got it so bad), Language (as always)

A/N: Finally!! Time for chapter 17!!! I've been so excited for this one since I wrote it. Can't wait to hear what you guys think. Sending y'all love!

Wordcount: 12.7k

chapter 1 || chapter 16 || chapter 17 || masterlist

ao3 link

Even though October was long, the days were short, and the nights relaxing now that you had started to trace the constellations for your Little Star again. 

Instead of shutting down immediately whenever you thought of her, you started to make an effort to let the memories of her be there. And although there was still a strong, more than fair amount of pain that surrounded the images of her face in your mind’s eye, there was also a strange feeling of relief in letting yourself feel it, without wallowing in your guilt or shoving it all away.

It was the first fall in years that you got out of your house almost every day. You spent a lot of time at Tommy and Maria’s, though you went over to seek out the presence of your goddaughter more than the company of either of your friends.

Tommy began to huff in annoyance whenever you entered the house and made a beeline towards the stairs, throwing a quick greeting towards wherever the couple was before finding yourself in the nursery, lifting your goddaughter into your arms with a bright smile only the baby could draw from you.

“I used to be her favorite,” Tommy would mutter in frustration, to which Maria would roll her eyes.

“Don’t kid yourself, love,” she would respond, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek while you lifted Hope in the air, laughing along with the baby. “Dina has always been her favorite.”

But you hadn’t truly realized how much time was passing until your unopposed, well-known favorite person in Jackson showed up on your doorstep one afternoon late in October. Dina waved a piece of paper in your face, even as she moved it so quickly that you couldn’t even begin to look at it, let alone read it.

“Look! Look!” she said excitedly, and you tried to move your face to actually look at it as she continued to wave it around.

“I’m trying,” you huffed before trying to catch her wrist to stop her so you could actually read it. “Would you stop waving it?”

Dina laughed at your irritation, and you sent her a half-hearted glare before she finally stopped, holding out the paper so you could take it.

You glanced over it, eyebrows raising as you took in the information before handing it back to her.

“Cool.”

Dina scoffed at your noncommittal response, glaring at you as she repeated incredulously, “Cool? Really? This is the best thing Jackson has done in years, and all you have to say is cool?”

“Those things aren’t my scene, Dina,” you said, placing your hands on your hips and turning to watch her shimmy past you into your home before closing your door behind her. "They’re yours, and I’m happy for you. But it’s not for me.”

“Bullshit,” Dina brushed off your words with a wave of her hand, and you rolled your eyes, already knowing that she had a plan forming in that quick-thinking mind of hers. “C’mon, you’re the one who wanted me to get you all done up for your date.”

You scoffed, eyes wide with the accusation before you snapped back, “Excuse me, you’re the one who wanted to do that! Don’t push it on me!”

Dina rolled her eyes, dramatically collapsing onto your couch while she lifted the paper back up to wave in your direction again.

“We both know why you wanted to look super extra pretty that night,” she teased with a grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows, and you snatched the paper from her hand with a glare as the sound of it moving through the air began to get on your nerves.

“You know nothing, you little shit,” you muttered as you shoved her legs off the end of the couch so you could sit, but you didn’t protest or try to shove her off again when she set her feet on your lap, even as her boots got a few flecks of dirt on your jeans.

“Come on,” Dina drew out the words, flashing her best puppy-dog eyes at you, a look that she had mastered by now because, well, it was Dina. She never half-assed anything, and her natural charm was off the charts.

Still, you ignored her, staring down at the paper in your hands before asking casually, “Did Ellie draw this?”

Dina perked up instantly at the mention of the girl’s name, and you had to hold back your own knowing smile when she sat up straight.

“Yeah!” she grinned, leaning forward to point at the drawing of the dancing skeletons in the middle of the paper. “She drew a bunch of different ones to put around town. This one’s my favorite, though.”

“Oh, you got a super special edition from the artist herself?” you teased, unable to help a bit of a mischievous glint in your eye with the words, and Dina actually blushed a little before she collapsed back onto the couch.

“Yes, I am that important,” she replied with a confident grin, and you laughed quietly before looking back at the information below the illustration that described the event Dina was trying to strong-arm you into attending.

“Come on,” Dina whined again, nudging your stomach with her boot, and you protested loudly as the dirt began to rub off onto your shirt. You shoved her feet off, but she stuck them right back, laughing at your disgusted exasperation before she began to draw out the word, “Please?”

You tried to resist, but when she held out that same goddamn “e” sound that she knew grated on your nerves so much, you gave up.

“Fine!” you shouted, throwing the hand not holding the paper up into the air. “Fine, you win. We’ll go.”

Dina instantly began to wiggle in a happy dance, and you couldn’t help but grin at the endearing innocence of her excitement at the event.

“Okay, so,” she started, finally pulling her feet off of your lap so she could shift and sit next to you. “I have some ideas for costumes.”

So that was how you found yourself standing at the edge of the room, nervous gaze flickering over the gathered residents of Jackson for the first ever Halloween dance.

“I look stupid,” you murmured, subconsciously tugging at your clothes again, only for Dina to slap your hand away.

“Would you stop it?” she snapped, rolling her eyes as you shifted awkwardly for what felt like the hundredth time that night. “You look great.”

You shook your head, looking down at what you were wearing again with a wince.

“This dress is too tight,” you muttered, rubbing your hand across the fabric on your stomach before reaching down to tug the hemline down from where it kept riding up your thighs. “And too short.”

“Stop it!” Dina chastised, smacking your hand again, which you held to your chest with an agitated frown. “I searched high and low across Jackson for a dress like that. You will wear it, and you will know you look pretty!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, but you couldn’t help a small, thankful smile directed towards your young prodigy.

“Thanks, kid,” you muttered, reaching out to fix the crooked fabric halo on her head, the finishing touch to her costume that you had both spent the last week creating, along with yours.

“Not as pretty as me, of course,” she joked, and you laughed as she did a little twirl, the white fabric of her dress spinning out around her with the motion before she grinned back up at you. “But you may be seen in my presence.”

“Oh, how fortunate I am,” you drawled, rolling your eyes with a smile to match her own as she giggled at her own joke.

You shifted to look back out at the room, resisting the urge to adjust your costume again as you scanned the group of people dancing, laughing and having fun. The cheer of the atmosphere was nearly infectious, but it hadn’t reached you yet, your nerves still bubbling in your chest while you glanced around.

“If you really wanna be secretive, you’re not doing a very good job,” Dina teased quietly at your side, and you looked back at her with a frown.

“What?” you asked, brows furrowed. You had an inkling to what she was getting at, even though you had been trying to ignore it so far that night.

Dina just shook her head, sighing quietly while she met your gaze with one that almost looked sympathetic. Your jaw ticked, quickly evading her eyes as they searched yours.

When you glanced across the room again, you relaxed when you saw a familiar face—not the one you were looking for, but it would do well to distract you from your young friend’s imminent questioning.

“Hey, I think your boyfriend wants a dance,” you teased, nudging her arm, and you looked back to see her rolling her eyes at your change of topic.

“Yeah, fine,” Dina sighed, sending her boyfriend a quick smile before turning back to you. “Just try and have a little bit of fun, okay?”

You didn’t budge until she pressed her hands together in a pleading gesture and added, “For me?”

Sighing, you gave a shrug of your shoulders along with a short nod. “Yeah, okay. My mission tonight is fun. Got it.”

Dina scoffed at your word choice, and you laughed as she flipped you off before moving towards her boyfriend for a dance or two.

After a moment of watching them with a fond smile, you glanced away, searching the crowds for the familiar face you had been looking for originally.

The one you had been searching for all night.

So when you caught a glimpse of those dark, graying curls, your heart skipped a beat in the same moment that your foot stepped forward.

You only managed a few steps towards him, though, before you stopped short.

Because Joel wasn’t alone.

He was talking to somebody.

Joel didn’t talk to people. Ever.

Your brow furrowed, glancing over him as he leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, near the door. Had he just walked in? Maybe that was why you hadn’t seen him yet, if he had just arrived.

He was holding a hat against his chest—a cowboy hat? Had Ellie or Tommy managed to convince him to dress up? One of his feet was crossed and rested against his other ankle—motherfucking cowboy boots, you realized—with what could best be described as a polite smile on his face.

Which made this bizarre situation even fucking weirder.

Finally managing to tear your gaze away from that odd sight, you observed the person he was talking to. Long light brown hair that fell in waves and brown eyes the color of honey, she was beautiful, with a sweet, charming smile as she said something to Joel that made him—

You froze, watching as the familiar brown eyes crinkled at the corners, his chest moving with the laughter you could hear clearly in your mind, even as you stood from across the room.

Yeah, she’s nice. She has a great sense of humor.

Contempt would be a good way to describe how you felt in that moment.

Not towards Joel, though. Not even towards the innocent woman—because you knew she was innocent, knew that you couldn’t even blame her for what she wanted—who smiled back up at him.

No, towards yourself. Towards every feeling that stirred in your chest as it tightened. Towards your stomach as the butterflies turned to lead and it dropped to your feet.

Stupid, you thought bitterly, hating how much of a reaction it had gotten out of you.

Purely idiotic, the way you despised how they looked like such a good fit. Tommy’s words from months ago moved through your head so quickly that it began to spin with the doubts, the old fears, and you had to remind yourself that Joel hadn’t taken that out when you had offered it.

Absolutely foolish, how you wanted him to look at you instead, to somehow catch your eye across a crowded room. To see that knowing look in his eyes when you saw each other, the slight tilt of his lips into a secret smile, one that spoke to your arrangement and everything that had grown from it.

But he was looking at her, smiling at her, and you felt as ridiculous as a child, dressed in clothes far too large for her. 

Or perhaps just somebody hopeless, wearing a skin that didn’t quite fit right just to catch his eye.

Spinning on your feet, you quickly walked in the opposite direction, making a beeline for the refreshment table as you tried to ignore what you had just seen, and how unreasonably it had hurt.

Joel held back a sigh, fingers tapping idly against the hat in his hand as he searched the crowd for just a glimpse of why he had let Ellie drag him along to this dance tonight.

He couldn’t help but feel similarly to when he had stood outside the Tipsy Bison that cold winter night almost a year ago, with the woman he hardly knew at that point standing by his side. Back then, it had been a tension, an uneasy feeling.

This time, it was most certainly self-consciousness.

He set the hat back onto his head, crossing his arms while he leaned back against the wall again. Esther approaching him was not something he had counted on tonight, but it had not been as unpleasantly awkward of an interaction as he had feared when he saw her walking up to him.

After a few kind words from her and an awkward attempt at an apology for not having the decency to contact her after one date, she brushed off his worries with a wave of her hand.

She told him that she had been seeing someone the past few months, and that Joel didn’t have to worry about running away with his tail tucked between his legs whenever he saw her. He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that, embarrassed as to how she could tell he had been avoiding her. But what really surprised him is when she thanked him for his consideration and for trying to apologize, calling him a kind man.

Joel didn’t think he fell anywhere close into the category of being a “kind man,” but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

Now he stood at the edge of the room, feeling like he was fifteen fucking years old again at a stupid, godforsaken high school dance. He groaned quietly at the thought, his arms tightening across his chest as he scanned the room from underneath the brim of the cowboy hat again.

Tommy was here somewhere, wearing a similar hat, but he was feeling less and less in the mood for these festivities the longer he stood there, foot tapping as he waited to see what he came here for.

When he finally caught that glimpse, he nearly let out a sigh of relief, pushing himself off the wall and moving around the outskirts of the room towards the refreshment table on the other side, where she had been hidden behind the crowd of dancers in the middle of the floor.

However, when he finally got a full view of what she was wearing, he stopped in his tracks, frozen at the sight of her for a moment.

Or maybe more than just a moment.

Joel’s gaze was drawn first to her feet, the sight of those same damn heels she had been wearing on her date immediately sending heat across his skin. As his gaze dragged up her bare legs to that tight red dress, his breath hitched in his throat. That heat only increased when he scanned over her face and up to the little fabric devil horns she wore on her head.

At the sight of those, Joel couldn’t help but let a small, almost goofy grin cross his face.

Well, I am the devil herself. Am I not?

Her words, her teasing answer to the remark he had accidentally let slip once, echoed in his mind. 

Once again, Joel found himself musing over how her very existence tempted him with everything he desired.

And yes, that included lust, but he was finally starting to realize, finally starting to accept that it included more.

So much more.

He cleared his throat, wiping the smile off his face quickly before heading towards where she stood next to the table at a faster pace, watching as she nibbled at a cookie in her hand. When he got close enough, and she began to turn towards him, Joel opened his mouth to speak before somebody stepped in front of him.

Stopping short, Joel stared at the back of somebody he didn’t recognize, brows furrowing as the man approached her with an air of casual confidence. 

Joel shifted back on his feet, frowning as he glanced over the man’s shoulder to her face, seeing she was focused on this newcomer before Joel quickly turned to glance over the refreshments to distract himself from whatever was happening.

The unknown man greeted her by name, sounding far too casual for Joel’s liking, and he stiffened as she returned the greeting by speaking their own name smoothly.

“Been a while,” the man said, reaching across the table to pick up a cookie from the plate next to her, and Joel’s jaw ticked.

“Yup,” she replied simply, and Joel’s frown suddenly threatened to turn into a small, smug smile as he heard how disinterested her voice sounded. “It certainly has been.”

“I’ve missed seeing you around,” the man added, and Joel stiffened, his gaze still flickering over the same few plates of refreshments as if he was considering which one to take a treat from, even as his eyes weren’t seeing what was in front of him now.

Joel waited for her to say something, to brush the man off and send him home packing.

But she said nothing.

When he dared to look back over, Joel saw the man had moved slightly closer, standing in a way where Joel could see both their faces, and he stiffened as he saw the look in that guy’s eyes.

That look was one of desire, yes, but it was more than that. The way he looked at her body wasn’t from a lust for the unknown.

No, the way that man looked at her; the indifferent, fucking irritating, smug confidence he held himself with; the knowing smirk that she leveled her own equally knowing look at in response…

Her flings. I know she’s had a few here and there.

Joel stiffened, his blood running cold as he realized that this man who had approached her was one of those flings. More than that, the way he looked at her body in such a familiar way told Joel that he had most likely seen her entire body in the throes of passion.

Something even he had not seen.

Hand tightening into a fist, Joel hadn’t even realized he had begun to step forward until a force of nature in the form of a teenage girl burst from the crowd of dancers and bounded over to the woman who was still staring back at this man in front of her.

“Hey, come on!” Dina said brightly, grabbing the hand of her role model and tugging her out onto the floor. “You promised me a dance!”

Joel watched them go until they disappeared behind the other dancers, the man a few feet away from him doing the same until shifting away with a sigh of defeat.

It was almost tempting to smirk at the sound of that, but the uncomfortable, now familiar feeling of jealousy twisted in his gut again. Joel turned back to the refreshments, searching for a drink of some kind to distract himself from the complicated emotions he now felt.

As distracted as he was, he almost didn’t recognize the presence that had settled by his side until they spoke.

“There’s no drinks here,” the smooth voice said, and Joel swore under his breath, spinning around as they added, “Family friendly event.”

Staring up at him, a brow arched in bemusement, was none other than his sister-in-law.

Joel relaxed just a fraction at the familiar face before stiffening, remembering that this was the woman who he honestly feared just a tad bit, at least more than anybody else in Jackson—other than the woman who he shared pleasure with night after night.

“Maria,” he greeted, tipping his hat towards her in greeting, which she returned with a nod.

“Joel.”

The crease between his brow did not unfurrow as Maria turned to watch the dance floor, staying by Joel’s side with her arms crossed.

It was strange, and more than a little uneasy. Maria’s opinion about him was not a secret, even as their relationship seemed to have smoothed out somewhat with their monthly family dinners. Neither of them made much effort to overcome their differences, but they did at least tolerate each other’s presence.

And despite his personal grudges that went back to his weekly radio calls with Tommy that she had stopped, Joel respected Maria. He had no doubt that she was the reason why this settlement thrived as much as it did.

So it confused him why she seemed to have sought him out now, though Joel tried to ignore his trepidation as he reached out to grab a cookie before turning out to face the dance floor as well.

Despite his best intentions, his eyes began to roam across the dancers until he saw her, spinning Dina around a distance away, the two of them grinning widely.

Joel hadn’t even realized how much he had softened at the sight until Maria spoke up again.

“She’s the most vulnerable of all of us, you know,” she said quietly, and Joel’s heart stopped as he looked down at her. “She feels so deeply, whether it’s pain or love.”

Sparing a glance back up at Joel, she added, “Or both.”

Even though Maria didn’t say a name as she looked back at the dance floor, he was afraid he knew exactly who she meant, and who she was looking at. His heart began to beat fast in his chest, eyes wider than he would have liked when Maria sent him a sidelong glance full of disapproval.

“If you don’t want anybody to know, you shouldn’t look at her like that.” The words were blunt, as well as more than a little jarring, and Joel stiffened before quickly whipping his head back around.

Fuck, he curses internally, trying to build his guards back up in that moment, even as he began to realize that it was much too late for that now.

“Does Tommy—”

“He has no idea,” Maria interrupted before Joel could even find a way to phrase the question, and when Joel’s shoulders relaxed slightly in a quiet exhale of relief, her eyes snapped to the side of his face with a glare. “He’s catching on, though. Now that he knows for certain you don’t actually hate each other, he’ll start to put it together.”

Joel turned his head to look at her straight-on, his voice as hard as his gaze as he asked, “How much do you—”

“Nothing,” she answered his question again before he could ask it, and Joel’s jaw ticked in annoyance at how much his brother’s wife could read exactly what he was thinking. Had he gotten that soft recently, or was she just that good at analyzing people?

Maybe both.

“And I don’t want to know,” Maria added, lifting a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose, as if the whole situation she had figured out made her head hurt. “Listen, Joel, I don’t need the details. All I need to know is that you’ve both spent the entire night looking for each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers, and it’s starting to get on my nerves.”

Joel stiffened, the choice of words sending a jolt to his system, and he opened his mouth to argue, “It’s not—”

“Shut up,” she snapped, and Joel instantly closed his mouth, back straightening as he knew Jackson’s de facto leader was not in the mood to take any bullshit right now—or ever. “Just listen to what I have to say closely, because I’m trying to protect you both here.”

Maria paused, searching Joel’s eyes for any hint of resistance. When she seemed to find none, her shoulders set back, gaze deadly serious.

“That woman has gone through hell,” she said quietly, voice hard with conviction and no small amount of care for who they spoke of. “You didn’t see her when she got to Jackson. She was a shell of who Tommy had told me she used to be. He struggled to get her out of bed for weeks. He fought to keep her alive and well enough to keep going for months. Years.”

Her voice was rising slightly before she took a deep breath, eyes closing as she composed herself, though Joel’s heart continued to ache, his stomach sinking with each word.

When Maria’s eyes opened again, they were softer before she continued, “I’ve finally seen her becoming the best, the healthiest and happiest that she’s been in years. So if you do anything, anything, to fuck that up, know that there is no corner of this town where I won’t find you.”

As Joel watched the blaze in his sister-in-law’s eyes, he began to realize who they really should have been hiding this relationship from all along.

Relationship.

That was the first time he had thought of it in that sense, and he stiffened as the realization hit him.

“You know she’s just as likely to pull away from me, right?” Joel finally found himself saying, though his voice wasn’t argumentative. Simply stating a fact.

Because as emotionally closed off as he knew he was, he had seen first-hand how badly she self-sabotaged. She had done it on the couch when he had tried to figure out how badly she was injured after patrol, lashing out at him with bitterness even as he saw how she recoiled from her own cruelty afterwards. 

Even though she had joked that Joel may outdo her when it came to savior complexes, he was sure they both knew that wasn’t true.

“That’s why I’m coming to you,” Maria said in a low, serious tone, and Joel blinked in surprise, brow furrowing in confusion again until she explained, “She is going to push you away much harder than you do her. If you really care about this—if you really care about her—you’ll help her hold on to you instead of letting her turn away.”

Joel fell quiet, his gaze darting away from Maria and down to his boots.

His stupid fucking cowboy boots that he had also put on at Tommy’s request.

God dammit, he was really regretting coming out tonight, even as a part of him started to realize that he needed to be here. He needed to hear that, even if he couldn’t let himself process it fully in the moment.

Maria sighed, and he finally looked back up, glancing over her face as she calmed back down completely.

“Just…” she shook her head, letting out another quiet sigh, glancing back at him before finishing, “Just treat her like she deserves. Please.”

With that, she turned, leaving Joel standing there stunned, probably looking like the world’s most stupid cowboy with a cookie dangling from his hand that he had completely forgotten about.

He remained dumbfounded for a few moments longer until he eventually recomposed himself, even as his thoughts continued to run wild with new revelations and emotions.

So when he saw Ellie standing a short distance away, her arms crossed as she shifted awkwardly on the edge of the dance floor, Joel relaxed considerably. He grabbed another cookie from the refreshment table before moving over to her.

“Hey, kiddo,” he greeted warmly when he settled into the space at her side, watching as she jumped before looking up at him, relaxing when she saw it was only him.

“Hey,” she responded in kind, giving him a nod that he returned before they both looked back out at the dance floor.

Joel offered one of the cookies to her wordlessly, and she took it with hardly a glance at it, the two of them simultaneously taking bites out of their cookies while they gazed out at the floor of dancers.

After a peaceful moment of quiet munching, Ellie mumbled almost too quietly for Joel to hear over the loud music coming from the band gathered in the corner, “They look happy.”

Joel knew exactly who he had been looking at, unable to tear his eyes away even after that emotionally jarring conversation with Maria. So when he looked back to Ellie to follow her gaze to whoever she was talking about, he was taken aback to realize she had her eye on them too.

The pair were still dancing happily, spinning each other across the floor with laughter so loud and cheerful that Joel could nearly hear it from where he stood on the sidelines. It made a smile threaten to twitch onto his lips, seeing a brighter smile on her face than maybe he had ever seen as she lifted a hand to twirl around Dina, the white, tulle fabric of the teenager’s matching angel costume swirling around her while they grinned and giggled.

Then Maria’s words echoed in his head, the comment of her being at her happiest in Jackson and telling him not to fuck it up, and his heart thumped with a sudden pang of fear and guilt.

“Yeah,” Joel muttered, giving a short nod before quickly looking away when he saw her gaze suddenly flicker over Dina’s head to him. 

He didn’t know how she had known he was staring—had she recognized the feeling of his eyes on her? That thought made his heart thud against his chest, and he shook his head sharply, trying—and utterly failing—to shove anything sentimental out of his head while he stared down at his boots.

Only when he felt her gaze move off of him did he look back up, unable to keep his eyes off of her for more than a few seconds as she grinned and danced, despite all the newfound trepidation in his heart as he was realizing more and more tonight than he ever could have expected to.

Eventually, he managed to pull his gaze away when he heard a quiet, almost inaudible sigh at his side. Joel looked down at Ellie, a frown tugging at his lips as he watched her arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring down at her feet much in the same way he just was doing.

It tugged at something in Joel’s heart, so he brushed the remaining crumbs from the cookie off on his jeans before holding his hand out to Ellie. When she looked up at him in confusion, he only offered the fond smile that was reserved for her alone, holding his hand out further for her to take.

“Well, no reason why we can’t have some fun, too,” he said softly, and Ellie scoffed with disbelief.

“No way,” she shook her head wildly, her ponytail swinging across her back as her arms that were crossed over her chest bunched up even tighter. “I don’t dance.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Joel chided gently, his smile growing, nudging her shoulder with his own. “I see your foot tapping when you listen to your music.”

Ellie hesitated, feet shifting as she tried to avoid his gaze, but after a moment her crossed arms fell to her sides, a heavy sigh leaving her.

“You suck,” she murmured, her hand begrudgingly landing in his with a heavy smack. 

Joel chuckled, grip tightening around her hand as they walked to an empty spot on the dance floor.

“I’m aware,” he drawled jokingly, moving his hands to hold Ellie gently but securely before he began to lead her across the floor in the steps of an easy dance.

She was stiff as a board at first, but from a few teasing words and gentle smiles from Joel, she finally began to loosen up a bit. When she did, he began to take wider steps in the dance, moving their joined hands in more exaggerated ways, earning laughter from the girl that brightened his world in a way nothing else could.

Ellie continued to laugh as he spun them both around, holding her close so they were almost hugging as he swung their arms up and down in a goofy dance that brought laughter rumbling from his own chest.

In that moment, it was all worth it; the pain, the suffering, all of it was worth it for this. Keeping Ellie safe, making her happy. This was his purpose.

He spun her around with one hand, his smile growing into a full-fledged grin as her laughter grew, and his with it. When he pulled her back to him, there was no way for him to see the scheming look she shot around his back, leaving Joel with mild confusion as Ellie leaned back, gripping both of his hands and spinning them around a few times.

So when Ellie suddenly let go, he stumbled a bit, his missteps only growing larger when another body collided right into his chest. 

By instinct, Joel reached his hands out to steady them, planting his own feet firmly against the ground so they wouldn’t both topple over. Some deep part of his subconscious mind knew who it was from the instant he felt them pressed against him; the way the body molded to fit his was achingly familiar, along with the almost sweet scent that filled his senses before they pulled back to look up at him, and he saw she was the one who had ended up in his arms.

Her surprise matched his own, and they merely blinked at each other for a moment before loud cackling and giggling nearby caught the attention of both of them. 

Joel only caught a glimpse of Dina and Ellie as they spun around together before they danced away, the matching shit-eating grins from both of the teenage girls eliciting a deep sigh from him.

The shifting in his arms brought his attention back, and he lifted one of his hands from where he had steadied her, placing it on the small of her back to pull her back to him when she began to pull away.

She looked up at him in surprise, hesitation flickering across her face as her lips parted to speak, “Joel��”

“One dance won’t kill you,” he murmured, avoiding her gaze even as his hand slid back to her waist, his other hand moving to grip her palm in a proper form for a perfectly respectful, casual dance between friends.

Who knew how much longer he could keep lying to himself about that.

Lord knows he hardly even believed it himself anymore.

He could feel her hesitate, even as he wasn’t watching her, just by the way her hand hovered in the air inches above his shoulder before finally laying on it. Joel inhaled softly through his nose as her fingers pressed against the flannel, feeling the familiar indentations of her touch even through the fabric.

Under his hand, the fabric of her dress was soft, and he couldn’t resist running his thumb up the curve of her hip just slightly. A familiar spark of desire traveled down his spine as he heard her own quiet intake of breath, a small smile threatening to flicker onto his lips as he marveled at how he could feel her body heat through the tight, red dress.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before,” he murmured, taking steady steps through the dance as the music from the band in the corner began to slow down from the fast-paced tunes earlier.

Joel was surprised when she followed his steps without protest, realizing with something almost akin to pride that she was letting him lead her through the dance. It somehow spoke volumes as to how their relationship dynamic had changed in just under a year, and it was suddenly becoming harder and harder to keep that smile off of his face.

“Probably because I’ve never worn one,” she replied quietly, her face turned to the side when he finally looked back at her. “I hardly ever wear anything like this.”

“Skirts included?”

A soft laugh escaped her lips, her gaze moving to meet his, and there was a familiar glimmer of mirth in them that made Joel’s throat suddenly feel dry.

“Skirts included,” she affirmed, her lips tilting up into a half-smirk, half-smile, and Joel finally allowed himself to smile back at her at the sight. “Like I said, it’s a luxury.”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head while his thumb subconsciously stroked along the curve of her hip again. When she shivered, his smile grew, satisfied from the reaction her body gave to his simple touch. And by the way she rolled her eyes at him, he knew that she had noticed his satisfaction.

Despite what Maria had said to him, it was impossible not to fall helplessly into the familiar pull of her gravity. And maybe there was something about that conversation that made him just a bit more bold than he would have usually been.

“Well, then,” Joel drawled quietly, removing his hand from her hip for a moment to guide her into a slow, simple spin with his other hand. When he pulled her back, they were closer than before, his head moving next to hers so his mouth was conveniently near her ear so he could murmur, “Mike sure is a lucky man.”

He could almost feel her breath catch from how close their chests were to each other, her body tensing at the teasing words before she slowly relaxed when his hand in hers squeezed gently.

It was a simple gesture to reassure her, to let her know he was only joking, even as there was an undertone to the words that made Joel almost nervous to think about too deeply. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had truly heard that underlying meaning, or even felt it in the familiar, gentle pressure of their interlocked hands.

Shit, when had that started to feel so familiar?

“It wasn’t for Mike.”

Now it was Joel’s turn to lose his breath.

His heart thumped against his chest again, thankful for the way his head was next to hers so she couldn’t see the way his eyes widened at the four simple words that somehow managed to shake him completely.

He wanted to ask. 

God, he wanted to ask. 

But was that even his place?

Did he truly have any right to—

“Dina wanted to dress up,” she continued quietly, and Joel finally released the breath he had been holding, his body relaxing from how much he had tensed up without even realizing it. “She’s been so excited for this stupid dance for the past week. We’ve spent the past, like, five afternoons making these costumes.”

Joel laughed softly, turning his head just slightly so he could glance towards her from the corner of her eye, unable to help a small smile as he saw the fondness of her face as she talked about the girl.

“And the concept?” he found the words slipping from his mouth, his brow arching in a confident question even as his pulse raced nervously when her eyes finally met his again. “Was that Dina’s idea too?”

Her lower lip was pulled into her mouth for a second, teeth biting gently down on it, and Joel felt a rush of an emotion that felt dangerously close to longing as he was helpless to do anything but watch her react to his words, the temptation of his simple question.

“She had a few ideas,” she replied slowly in a hushed tone, her teeth letting go of her lip with the words, and he was mesmerized by the color that rushed to it before he looked back up, and his gaze became trapped in her own. “She wanted to match. An angel and a…devil, was one of her ideas, yeah.”

The way she hesitated before saying devil made Joel feel a bit bolder than before, his hand on her hip sliding slowly to the small of her back, his fingers spreading out across the fabric as he tugged her a bit closer.

“And you…?”

He trailed off, hoping she would understand what he wanted to ask, what he couldn’t say, and he was relieved when she did.

“I was pretty particular to that one,” she whispered, her eyes flickering between his, and Joel was lost in the way they glowed in the strands of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, drunk in the hazy look of something that wasn’t lust in that familiar, sharp gaze.

Joel’s lips parted, but to say what, or do what, he didn’t know. Any sound he may have started to get out quickly turned into a low growl when a voice tried to interject in their intimate conversation.

“May I—”

Joel hardly spared more than a glance towards the side to see the same man from earlier, the one who had approached his—her next to the refreshment table, and he quickly snapped, “No, you may not.”

He didn’t care to look at the man’s face any longer as he took large, determined steps in the dance until they were far away, only looking back down at her face when she let out a laugh of surprise.

“Joel,” was all she said, her eyes wide with shock that had a hint of mischievous amusement to it, and he held back a groan as his grip around her hand tightened.

“I don’t like that guy,” he muttered, brows furrowing when she laughed again. “What? I don’t.”

“Do you even know him?” she asked, her eyebrow arching when he suddenly found himself avoiding her questioning gaze.

“I—” he paused, suddenly feeling a surge of guilt at his knee-jerk reaction to keep her in his arms for just a little while longer. “I’m sorry. That was your choice to make, not mine.”

Her eyes lit up in surprise again when he looked back at her, but it quickly melted into a look akin to that warmth he caught glimpses of burning deep within her and, Lord above, he was nothing but a moth drawn to it as it was directed towards him alone in that moment.

“It was,” she responded slowly, and Joel began to shift awkwardly until her hand squeezed his shoulder gently, before sliding closer to his neck, her fingers grazing against the skin on the back of his neck that peeked above his collar, the sensation making him shiver. “But I would have said the same thing.”

Joel blinked a few times, surprised at the softness to the words before he relaxed considerably, a small smile dancing on his lips as she had one of her own hesitant, genuine smiles on her face. He felt like he could count on one hand the times he had seen that smile, but he also knew he could remember each of those moments as clear as day.

“And what about your costume?” she murmured, and Joel felt the immediate loss of her hand on the back of his neck as she moved it to tug gently at the brim of his hat. “Cowboy?”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deeply from his chest as her voice wrapped smoothly around the familiar nickname that she had called him for months now.

“Tommy’s idea,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulder when her hand rested on it again. “Ellie wanted to come out tonight, and when Tommy caught wind that I agreed, he strong-armed me into wearing these stupid fucking hats and boots with him.”

She laughed again, louder this time, and Joel’s smile widened at the sound of it as they slowly spun around again.

“What, you didn’t wear these all the time twenty years ago?” she teased, laughing again as Joel snorted at the insinuation.

“Not at all,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “Being from Texas doesn’t mean I was that predictable, sweetheart.”

When his own nickname for her left his lips, she glanced away, and Joel almost felt nervous at using it outside of sex until he saw the flush on her cheeks.

Suddenly, he couldn’t stop smiling, even if he had wanted to.

“So, no line-dancing for me tonight, then?” she finally asked, turning back to look at him with another smirk that was becoming so familiar, he almost recognized it as much as his own.

Joel just shook his head, though he couldn’t help but be amused at her continued teasing about that mundane, embarrassing fact about his life from before the Outbreak. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Not a chance in hell,” she said lightly, reaching a hand up to tap the devil horns on her head, and he laughed quietly, both of them smiling slightly before they looked away from each other.

They fell quiet then, the silence considerably more relaxed than it was before, neither of them bothering to fill that silence with anything as they swayed in place. His fingers stroked small circles against her lower back as hers moved from his shoulder to play gently with the ends of his curls at the back of his neck, her gaze lifting back to his face before she frowned.

“You shaved,” she muttered, and Joel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the observation.

Because she was right, he had trimmed back his beard a bit before the dance tonight, as it had been growing longer in recent months, but he hadn’t been expecting her to notice.

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled, brows furrowing as her eyes continued to move over his facial hair. “I did.”

She nodded slowly, her frown not alleviating even as her gaze finally moved away, and he frowned himself as he watched her.

“Why?” he asked, wincing internally as he heard that same self-consciousness he had felt an inkling of earlier creeping into his voice. “Did I do a shitty job?”

She laughed a little then, shaking her head before she looked back. 

“No, it’s…” her words trailed off, looking away quickly again before she shrugged and muttered, “...it’s fine.”

Joel arched an eyebrow at that, his eyes narrowing in suspicion at her before he asked slowly, “What aren’t you saying?”

She shook her head again, stubbornly avoiding his gaze, even as she mumbled under her breath, “I just...you know.”

He did have a feeling—or perhaps a hope—for what she wasn’t saying, but he waited for her to admit it.

And after another moment where he continued to stare blankly at her, she huffed in annoyance, finally revealing in a sigh that nearly obscured the quiet words, “...I prefer it long.”

For the second time that night, Joel’s breath caught in his throat, watching the way her cheeks flushed again with her revelation that made his heart race. His lips parted again, but this time he finally was able to speak, her name leaving him on a breath that brought her eyes back to meet his.

But before he could say something else, the music from the band suddenly picked up again, causing dancers who had left the floor to come surging back again for more lively dancing. She looked up at him with a quiet laugh, a small, embarrassed smile on her lips as she pulled herself from his grip.

“I think you got more than one dance out of me, cowboy,” she enunciated the nickname with a wink and a pointed look up at his hat that made him return her smile with his own. “Maybe you should consider yourself lucky.”

There was something else hidden underneath the emphasis on that word, something that made him want to reach out to her, but she was already moving back out towards the edge of the floor.

But not before he could catch up to her, walking by her side so he could murmur under his breath, “Tonight?”

Joel dared a quick glance from the corner of his eye to see her bite her lip, a familiar smile of anticipation at his insinuation threatening to break through as she hummed out, “Mhm.”

He didn’t say anything else as he broke off from her, heading in the opposite direction to try and distract himself from how badly he wanted to whisk her away right then and there.

The dead of night would have to do.

You were surprised by how quickly Joel opened the door when you knocked later that night.

“Hey,” he greeted on an exhale, his hand finding your hip and tugging you into the house, his other hand closing the door behind you before you could even begin to form a response.

Without another word, his hands began to slide up your sides and around your back, tugging you against him as he explored your curves through the tight fabric of the dress you were still wearing. You had suspected he liked it, judging by the way he kept subtly stroking your hip and back during your dance, so you had kept it on for your midnight call.

When his mouth found your ear, you knew what he was going to ask before he even started to whisper, “How do you want me?”

Even as he spoke to you, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had held you tonight as you danced together, along with the way he had looked at you. Any strange form of jealousy—because that’s what it truly was, jealousy, you couldn’t deny it even if you tried—that you had felt when he was talking to Esther quickly disappeared when he kept smiling at you as he led you across the dance floor.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to stake your own claim on him now, just like he had already done to you, even if neither of you had talked about it since. Especially after you had seen a resurgence of his own jealousy tonight, when he had denied the request for a dance with you from the man you had once had a one-night stand with. It had brought the memory of his possessiveness to the forefront of your mind, and you wanted more.

You were desperate for more slips of the mask Joel held so carefully in place, feverish for more glimpses of the man underneath all those carefully constructed walls.

So when your mouth opened, you didn’t give yourself a moment to think twice about it before you whispered, “Bed.”

Joel froze, and you almost regretted your boldness before his body relaxed under your hands. He leaned back, his hand finding yours to tug you after him, leading you up the staircase as your heart started to beat faster and faster at the familiar, lustful intent in his dark eyes.

After nudging the door open with his foot, he pulled you in after him, flicking the lights off to send you both into darkness. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, letting the moonlight filtering through the curtains on his large windows help you not to stumble as he continued to guide you to the bed.

When he began to turn, you placed your hands on his chest, stopping him from whatever he was intending to do. Your fingers moved back to the buttons on his flannel, undoing the first few and making Joel’s breath catch in his throat, his mouth opening before that breath stuttered back out when your hand slid underneath his shirt to caress his collarbone.

He whispered your name, the sound half-warning, half-lusting, and you smirked against his skin from where you pressed your lips to his jaw. His recently trimmed facial hair tickled your lips, and you hummed in satisfaction from the sensation as you kissed down his neck, relishing in the way his breathing continued to come out in short bursts at your actions.

“I won’t take it off,” you murmured, leaning back up to bump your nose against the curve of his jaw as he grabbed your hips tightly. “Just a little bit…”

This close to him, you could almost feel his breath catch in his throat more than you heard it, and you pulled back slightly, tilting your head back to meet his gaze before you whispered, “That okay with you?”

The words were soft, because you always wanted him to be okay with whatever you did, just as he had always sought your own consent, from the very first encounter you both had in your kitchen.

Joel’s eyes searched yours, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow before he murmured, “Yes, ma’am.”

His submission sent desire shooting straight to your core, your pussy throbbing as you tugged at the next few buttons on his flannel until the upper part of his torso was revealed to you. Your hands spread across his hot skin that was available, a moan catching in the back of your throat from the feeling of the muscles that were reasonably toned from a life of survival.

There were also hints of a soft stomach below, your fingertips barely grazing it with the flannel still partially buttoned. It was a sign of the comfort of his life in Jackson that made you smile to yourself.

You leaned in to press an open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone, teeth grazing against it before you licked across his skin, drawing a quiet moan from him before your mouth continued to move down his chest. Your hands trailed over the rest of his flannel, leaving the remaining buttons untouched until your fingers hooked around a loop in his jeans, your other palm pressing against the erection that was already straining against his pants. You smirked against his skin when you heard him grunt before dropping to your knees.

Joel mumbled your name, his voice sounding shocked even in its deeper, rougher state from his desire, before he grunted again, louder this time when you mouthed over the bulge in his jeans. You let your saliva soak the fabric, your tongue putting pressure against his clothed erection. His hand grabbed your hair at the sensation, keeping you close as his other hand found your shoulder to steady himself.

“Fuck,” Joel gasped, and you smiled against the fabric when he tugged gently at your hair. “Take them off.”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, and he groaned when his gaze met yours, your mouth still pressed to the erection in his pants before you pulled back to murmur, “Manners, Joel. Be a good Southern gentleman for me.”

His lips parted, a whine so quiet that you almost wondered if you had imagined it leaving them before he whispered, “Please, darlin’.”

A quiet chuckle left you at the way his accent sounded sharper around the term at your teasing, and you realized once again that he really did get off on oral.

“Good,” you whispered, the loud sound of his zipper echoing in the room as you pulled it down, followed by his pants hitting the floor, then his boxers so his cock was finally freed.

You watched it spring to attention, fully hard, a lustful breath of anticipation leaving your lips to fan against it. The sound of his breath hitching only made you more desperate, your tongue flicking out to lick over the head of his cock as a test.

When he grunted loudly, louder than any sounds of pleasure you had heard from him before, any further hesitation went flying out the window as you wrapped your lips around him and began to suck.

“Jesus—”

Joel gasped, his fingers tangling in your hair as your tongue swirled around his dick, alternating licking and sucking while you listened for any audible cues to what he liked best. From what you could tell, though, it seemed like he liked everything you did, and you hummed in satisfaction around him.

You continued to take him deeper into your mouth, your hand wrapping around his base to stroke him in time to your tongue and lips. There were tears forming in your eyes, but you didn’t care, looking back up at him when he groaned again to see he was watching you intently while you sucked him off.

“God, you look so good like this,” he muttered, his voice thick and hoarse from the blowjob you were giving him, and you pumped him faster, tongue flattening against his cock, cheeks hollowing as you sucked so hard he nearly bucked into your mouth, but he just barely held himself back. “Fuck, yes. Just like that, sweetheart.”

You moaned around him at the praise, feeling your panties growing damp with your own desire as his own moan echoed yours. Joel’s hips began to rock gently with the movement of your strokes, rolling a bit farther in and out of your mouth, unable to hold himself back as much as you could tell his high was fast approaching, even as he let you continue to lead.

When you felt him twitch in your mouth, his fingers tugged at your hair again, a bit harder than before, but not painful as he grunted, “Fuck, I’m—shit, wait, I’m gonna cum. I—”

Pulling your mouth off of him with a wet pop, you listened with satisfaction as Joel groaned in a mix of relief and disappointment that you hadn’t brought him to release yet.

“You got there fast,” you muttered hoarsely, reaching a thumb up to wipe across where your lipstick had surely smeared across your mouth from sucking his dick, which Joel watched with a needy gaze, his dick twitching in the air in front of your face again.

“Shut up,” he murmured, his face flushed and hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead from the high that had been approaching him, and you couldn’t hold back a quiet chuckle of contentment at his reactions to your mouth before you pushed yourself back to your feet.

“Lay back,” you whisper, placing a hand on his chest to gently push him back towards the bed behind him. 

It wasn’t nearly hard enough to actually make him fall, but he sat quickly enough anyway, watching you with clear anticipation as you kicked your heels off before climbing onto the bed after him when he laid back, crawling up over his body until you were straddling him. Joel’s hands hovered above your thighs, fingers hesitantly grazing your skin that was showing from where your dress had ridden up, until you gave him a nod. 

At your silent okay, he slowly grabbed your thighs, his rough palms and thick fingers surrounding your skin and making you hum in approval. When his thumb stroked against one of your thighs, you glanced down, realizing that he was drawing a path along the scar that the hunters had left on you.

It was the injury he had helped treat, the moment you had admitted that this was more than you could have ever expected, and you let out a shaky sigh as your hands pressed to his chest. One of them slid underneath his shirt until your own palm was resting over Joel’s injury that you had treated yourself, fingers stroking along the feeling of the healed scars that the gashes had left.

You could feel the way Joel’s breath caught this time from the way his torso froze momentarily before he relaxed under your touch. His hand that wasn’t stroking along your scar slipped up under his shirt, finding yours from where it rested over his scars as his eyes met yours, gaze searching for you didn’t know what.

“Do you want to see it?” he murmured, and your heart pounded in your chest, eyes widening as you heard the underlying meaning to that seemingly inconsequential question.

Do you want to see me?

There may have been hesitation in your mind, but your body responded instantly, your head tilting in a nod that was all Joel needed to see before his hands lifted to rip at the remaining buttons on his flannel, tossing the ruined fabric to the side of the bed.

His eagerness to remove the shirt could have made you laugh if you weren’t so captivated by the sight of his body completely naked for the first time. You let your eyes roam across his torso, fingers spreading through the hair on his chest and following the occasional scar until you grazed your touch over the old, healed wound you had patched up in his bathroom.

“It looks better,” you murmured, tracing each of the thin scars the long gashes had left, listening to the way Joel’s breath stuttered each time you moved to a new one.

“Yeah,” he whispered hoarsely, his hands finding both of your thighs again, fingers trailing up under your dress. “Thanks to you.”

You expected his hands to stop at your panties, but they kept going up, his rough touch skimming across your lower stomach, making you shiver.

His touch stopped around your ribs, fingers dancing around that area, brows furrowed as he gazed at where your dress still covered most of your body. For a moment you thought he was trying to find the patch of your skin that had been covered by a bruise until recently, but his hand that was searching was on the opposite side of where the mark had been.

Then you realized with a start what Joel was trying to find with his hands alone.

Your tattoo.

Fuck, you didn’t even think he remembered that it was there. The only time he had caught a real glimpse of it was so long ago, when you could still hardly stand being in the same room as each other. 

But it was clear that he was looking for it now, fingers running across your skin as if he could feel the ink on your skin, and a heavy breath left you with words that you could hardly even reconsider, let alone stop as you asked, “Do you want to see it?”

Joel’s hands stopped in their fruitless search, his gaze meeting yours as he searched your eyes for something once again. After a moment of tense silence where you were almost certain you were both holding your breaths, he nodded, and you exhaled shakily as your hands reached down to grab the hem of your dress.

You pulled the tight fabric up, shimmying out of it until it was over your head, throwing it to the ground beside the bed to be forgotten. With your hair now messed up and makeup for the party completely ruined from sucking his dick, you were sure you must have been quite a sight, but Joel gazed up at you as if you were made of the beams of moonlight that streamed through the curtains and lit up the darkness of the bedroom while you explored each other’s bodies.

His gaze was moving all over your body, eyeing the bra that still covered your breasts before looking back down at your abdomen that he could now see. One of his large hands curled around your curves, his thumb brushing against the ink of the tattoo, and your eyelids fluttered from the soft touch as you suddenly realized that you wanted Joel to know you.

All of you, in a way nobody else ever had.

Spurred on by the gentle heat in his eyes as he continued to glance over your body, you reached your hands up behind your back, unsnapping the hook of your bra and relishing in the way Joel’s eyes widened, his lips parting at the sound.

Letting the anticipation hang in the air for a moment, your eyes remained locked with his, searching for any sign that he wasn’t okay with this step. When his tongue darted out to lick his lips, followed by a quick nod of his head, you slid the straps off your shoulders before finally letting the fabric fall from your chest, tossing it to the ground to join your dress.

The groan that left Joel’s lips when he finally saw you naked for the first time was completely unabashed, and you blinked rapidly as he suddenly shot up, sitting up straight as his hands slid from your hips up to your sides.

Before he could reach the new area of your exposed skin, he paused, eyes meeting yours to seek permission. At how wide and nearly desperate his deep brown gaze was, you nodded quickly, a sigh of absolute pleasure leaving your lips when he gripped your back, pulling you towards him as his mouth descended upon the swell of one of your breasts.

He pressed fast, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of it until his tongue flicked out over your nipple, and you gasped, hands finding his hair to tangle in the strands when he lapped it into his mouth to suck on it.

“Oh, god,” you whispered, back arching to press your breasts further against his face, moaning as he hummed in approval around your sensitive nipple that was still in his mouth. “That fucking mouth is too talented for your own good, cowboy.”

Joel chuckled against your breast before his tongue continued to swirl around the stiffened peak, his hand finding your other breast. He cupped it gently for a moment, thumb stroking along your nipple before he began to palm it, harder and faster as you continued to moan from the sensation.

When your nipple left his mouth with a wet pop, you hardly had a moment to breathe before he switched to the other one, giving it the same attention he had given the first one as his other hand moved to palm your wet breast until you were going crazy from the sensation.

You shifted until your hips found his as he lavished your chest, the damp fabric of your panties pressing against his hard dick so you could grind against it. The sensation elicited moans from both of you, his hands flying down to your hips to hold you steady as you slowly began to grind against him.

“Perfect,” Joel gasped when his mouth finally left your chest, his head tilting back, meeting your dark gaze with one of his own as your hand cupped the back of his neck, keeping your gazes locked as you continued to grind against him. “Perfect fucking tits, I knew it. Just like I imagined.”

Your eyelashes fluttered, whining from the admission that he had imagined how you would look like this. Unable to take it any longer, you grabbed his hand, wrapping his fingers around the banding of your panties before you ordered, “Tear them off.”

Joel didn’t need to hear anything else, his grip tightening on the fabric before he tore it from your skin. It fell from his hand on the edge of the bed, his hands moving back to grip your ass as you lifted your hips, your hand finding his cock that was still wet from your mouth earlier as well as your arousal that had soaked through your panties when you were grinding against him.

When the head of his cock pushed through your folds and you began to sink down onto him, you whimpered, the loud sound followed by his own long, low groan of approval at finally being joined like this, with your bodies completely naked and pressed together. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, grabbing him as your head tilted back from the intensity of him filling you up until he was completely bottomed out.

You took a moment to breathe, your pussy adjusting to him as his hands moved back to your hips. His thumb found the edge of the scar on your thigh again, stroking along it as he smothered a sigh of satisfaction into your neck, and you exhaled heavily before you lifted yourself up a few inches to take him in completely again.

Joel groaned against your skin, and your hands gripped his shoulders, using the position as leverage while you started to move up and down, lost in the way his dick felt rolling in and out of you. He leaned back, his hands on your hips holding you steady as he glanced over your body while you rode him.

Another moan left his mouth as his gaze fixed on the way your breasts bounced with your movements, his lips parting as he mumbled, “Fuck, you look so perfect, naked and riding my cock. Better than I could ever dream.”

You whined, shifting so your body was pressing against his again, arms wrapping around his neck while you traded bouncing on his dick to rolling your hips. A loud moan left your parted lips, joining the sounds of his bed creaking from your fucking that had started to fill the air, desperately grinding against him when you found the right position for friction against your clit.

“Oh sweet God,” Joel whispered, his lips finding your neck, burying his words against your skin as your pleasure continued to build. “Keep going, darling. You take me so well.”

Fingernails digging into his shoulders, you couldn’t help but moan louder and louder, the pressure inside your lower stomach building until it finally burst, an orgasm making your walls tighten around Joel’s dick that was still buried deep inside of you. The sensation earned a grunt and a weak thrust from him before he stilled himself, his thumb continuing to stroke against your thigh as he kept murmuring words of praise into your skin.

“So fucking good,” he whispered hoarsely, his tongue licking up the sweat on your neck as he groaned, “Feels so fucking good when your pussy clenches around my cock like that, darlin’. Can’t ever get tired of you coming when I’m inside of you.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, hands grabbing for purchase on him, and his hand that wasn’t on your thigh reached up to spread against your back, pressing you securely to him.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing kisses up your neck to your jaw. “Take your time.”

You did take your time, continuing to grind your clit against his lower stomach until you came two, three times in total with his hard dick still inside of you. Joel grunted each time you climaxed, his grip tightening on you, voice hoarse and strained as he continued to talk you through each orgasm.

When you felt his fingers begin to tremble, his breath coming out through heavy pants, you finally took mercy on him. Even after the string of your orgasms, you steadied your grip on his shoulders, leaning back to begin to bounce on him again, earning a loud groan from Joel as you watched his head toss back from your movements.

Your hand curled around the back of his neck, fingers dancing along his skin as you watched his eyes squeeze shut, his face contorted in pleasure while you rode him faster, harder than you had before, with the intent now to finally make him cum. 

His lips parted, fast, heavy pants leaving them as one of his hands left your hips to place on the bed behind him. Joel’s other hand gripped your hip tightly as he began to thrust upwards, meeting your movements until you were truly moving as one.

“Look at you,” you whispered on a breath, your thumb brushing against his bottom lip, earning a moan from Joel that turned into quiet whimpering as he started to buck up into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the creaking of the wooden bedframe. “I may have been yours before, but you’re mine tonight, Joel. Do you understand?”

His eyes flashed open at your words, pupils blown wide with desire as his gaze met yours with a harsh exhale of, “Yes, ma’am.”

You nodded in satisfaction, panting from exertion as you moved even faster, earning a loud groan from him as you leaned forward to whisper, “Cum for me now, Joel.”

“Fuck!” he gasped, not needing to hear another word as he slipped out of you, pulling your body forward to press tightly against his, his cock twitching as he rutted against your stomach before his release coated your skin and his from where you were pressed together.

Joel kept you clutched to him, your naked chests pressed together as you both panted heavily, coming down from your highs and exertion. You didn’t complain about the close contact, your fingers lazily twisting through the curls at the back of his neck as you murmured praise into his ear to gently bring him down from the intensity of his orgasm.

When his grip on you finally slackened, you slipped from his lap onto the bed, falling onto your back at the same moment he did.

“Jesus, you’re…” Joel’s voice was hoarse as he trailed off, clearing his throat before he finished, “you’re really good at…”

You laughed breathlessly as you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, watching him struggle to find the words before offering, “Riding cowboys?”

Now it was his turn to laugh, a low, throaty chuckle that made you bite your lip as his head turned to meet your gaze.

“Maybe that’s my true secret talent,” you teased breathlessly, earning another laugh from him, a smile growing on your face as he shook his head in amused disbelief. 

“Well,” he sighed heavily, pushing himself up and shooting you a smirk that you couldn’t help but smile even wider at, “I’m not complaining.”

That smile faltered as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking softly, “Where are you going?”

Joel looked back at you, his eyes softening, reaching out to squeeze your knee gently before pushing himself to his feet. “Taking care of you.”

The simple sentence caused a flutter in your chest, an undeniable warmth blossoming through you from head to toe that you couldn’t resist but sink into. You sighed, allowing yourself to relax back into the bed, unable to stop a quiet laugh as he stumbled slightly with a muttered curse when his legs shook. It was laughter that only grew when he mumbled for you to shut up.

It was impossible to keep your eyes open, too lost in the blissful haze that only multiple orgasms could provide. When you heard Joel return, you didn’t bother to move as the warm washcloth pressed to your legs and stomach, letting him clean you up as gently as he always did, even as his hands began to wander across your skin more than they usually did during his aftercare.

There was no part of you that was complaining as the washcloth on your thigh was replaced by Joel’s fingers as he stroked your scar before moving up to trace the outlines of your tattoo. It made you shiver, a hum leaving your lips at the pleasant feeling of him touching you so softly after how greedy you had been for each other’s bodies.

After a moment, you heard him stand back up and move into the bathroom before coming back. The bed dipped under his weight when he laid down beside you, but your eyes were too heavy now to reopen. Your breathing began to even out, unable to resist the call of sleep for much longer.

“Just…” you mumbled, your head lifting as your hands subconsciously found a pillow to pull down and rest your cheek against. “Gimme a…”

At the familiar feeling of callused fingers brushing against your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ears, you hummed softly, a small smile pulling on your lips that you couldn’t hide that close to falling asleep.

“Take your time,” the familiar, deep voice assured you again, and any remaining tension seeped from your body at the sound of it.

Those same long, rough fingers that had contributed to the death of dozens of men—if not even more—brushed against the back of your cheek for a moment. The sleepy smile on your face grew, the comforting touch drawing you deeper into a half-asleep state, until the hand shifted so the palm laid directly against your cheek.

It cupped your face so gently, so perfectly, that you couldn’t help but sink further into the pillow in an overwhelming sense of comfort and ease.

Your lips parted to say something, maybe to whisper a name, his name, but only a soft breath escaped you as the thumb carefully stroking along the small scar on your cheek pulled you gently into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Criminal Minds | Masterlist

SERIES

Begin Again:

Chapter One: The Savior

Chapter Two: Room 304

Chapter Three: I Know Who Did It

Chapter Four: Swimming Pool Kisses

Chapter Five: Ninety-Nine Percent

Glitter & Crimson:

Glitter and Crimson

Reader is keeping a secret from the rest of the team and they're adamant to find out. When they do, they're absolutely gobsmacked. One of them more than others...

Steady As A Drumbeat

And that ends in a night neither of them will ever forget.

A Little Less Conversation

+ The Aftermath

ONE SHOTS / IMAGINES

Memoriam

Season 4 Episode 7 rewrite -- Spencer's childhood best friend helps him on the Riley Jenkins case. Working together after years of not seeing each other brings up old memories and new feelings.

Do Re Mi

Spencer's next-door-neighbor comes into the BAU, distressed, saying that her ex-boyfriend was the person responsible for the recent string of kills happening in D.C.

Truly Madly Deeply

Spencer comes home from a case and wakes up next to reader. Inspired by One Direction's 'Truly Madly Deeply'.

Johnny and Dora

Spencer and Reader go undercover together to catch the most prolific identity thief in New York. What happens on the case might spark a shift in their relationship. Inspired by the Brooklyn 9-9 episode with the same name.

When?

Reader is tired of always coming in second place. Even when her and Spencer have split up, she's still looking over her shoulder as though he'd still be there. When will that end?

When The Girls Talk Boys

Spencer and Reader talk to their friends about one another, which causes their co-workers to find out about their secret relationship. Inspired by Girls Talk Boys by 5SOS.

Nothing is Accidental

After hearing Spencer's talk on a conference, Reader tests her luck and talks to the young Doctor. It sparks a new friendship, partnership and maybe even more. Rewrite of Season 7 Episode 11: True Genius

Dream Away The Dark

Four times where Reader comforts Spencer after a bad dream and one time where Spencer does the same for Reader.

Hunting Monsters

Halloween is Reader's favorite holiday and she plans to implement that love into her child's life, too. When little Poppy tells Reader she doesn't want to go trick-or-treating, Reader and her husband's co-workers help her convince the tiny genius.

I’m Recharging

How Spencer and Reader's ritual of 'recharging' began.

Tongue Tied

Reader is invited to her best friend's birthday party where she meets Dr. Spencer Reid. An instant connection is made.

Meet Me On The Courtyard

Spencer encounters his neighbor from across the yard, dancing around in her apartment until she catches him. They decide to properly meet on the courtyard.

You Owe Me A Date

Spencer and Reader plan to go out on a date. When she doesn't show up, Spencer gets worried.

You Knock The Wind Out Of Me

Spencer clearly dislikes Reader, but when she tries to ask him why, he evades the question. Only her boyfriend being disrespectful towards her forces her to admit his true feelings.

A Man After Midnight

Spencer and Reader are best friends since they were kids. When Reader is set to marry James, Spencer decides to give her the bachelorette party of her dreams. Only he wishes it were him she was about to marry...

Girls Can't Drive

Where a case hits reader a little too hard. Spencer doesn’t get why it’s hitting his girlfriend so hard until she finally tells him how hard it is to be a woman sometimes.

Annotations

Spencer finds a book in the breakroom one time and when he starts reading it, he noticed the notes in the margins. What quickly develops as a love written in the margins of several books, might have to step out into the real world soon.

King of My Heart

Spencer has always taken care of reader. Whether it was giving reader food before they realized they were hungry or buying them coffee, ... Tiny gestures that made it impossible for reader not to fall in love with him.

This Love Is Ours

Reader and Spencer are best friends with obvious feelings for one another. When Spencer ends up in prison, Reader gets angry at him, which keeps them from visiting him. But once she does, there's no pane of glass that would keep them apart.

Mine (Spencer's version)

Spencer reminisces about the first time he met Reader.

New Romantics

After a bad breakup, Reader and her friends go out to party where she meets one young FBI agent. Suddenly, she'd forgotten her ex even existed and was more interested in getting to know the stranger.

I Can See You

When Penelope's best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there's an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?

There's A 100% Chance I'm Gonna Marry You

The team doesn’t even know of her existence but when Spencer can’t get a hold of her, he gets worried. Now he has no other choice than to tell his coworker about her.

I Think He Knows

JJ invites her best friend, a linguistics professor, to help out on a couple of cases. When she and Spencer work together, something sparks between them.

Maybe We'll Take Some Time

Spencer and Reader broke up five weeks ago. When he comes knocking on her door, crying about a friend's death, their love is resparked.

HANDS

Spencer's hands are lovely and as he placed them on Reader's cheeks, it was the only way to calm her down. So, when Reader comes home breaking down after a difficult day at work, he's quick to calm her down.

The Stranger

Spencer and Reader are coworkers and best friends. When Reader gets hurt on a case, Spencer's feelings for Reader are bared.

Floored Decisions

Many decisions were made on the floor of their apartment. One day, she asks him a very important question.

[whore-ibly-hot]

💚👻Yan!Harold Biddle Hc's💚👻

"Viewer beware, you're in for a scare."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Yandere themes, dark behavior, possession, general spooks, serial killer, bullying, angst teen ghost boy?

AN: Requested by an Anon, this man has me down so bad, and I hope this inspires others to write for him. I love both old and new goosebumps media, and how our reader meets Harold is VERY similar to the goosebumps TV show episode 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Enjoy and happy belated Halloween! Go watch Goosebumps on Disney ➕️. Never done an HC before...

👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚

💚In a situation for Harold to grow truly attached to someone, you would have to be from out of town, or visiting a family member, perhaps. Harold is filled with such hatred for his former classmates and there spawn, that even those who didn't kill him, he knows stood idly by and ignored him in school. Because of this, he probably wouldn't want the son or daughter of a former classmate.

👻Maybe you moved to Port Lawrence with your family, whether for work or a fresh start, or maybe your a distant cousin of one of the people in town. As long as you aren't a direct descendant, Harold will have an easier time coming to terms with these feelings.

💚Being new in town was hard for you, nerve wracking even. Everyone at this school seemed to have a clique or group, and even the loners had their own things going on. Luckily, you caught wind through overhearing some classmates that a party was being held on Halloween night. Hoping to make some real friends, you donned a costume and set out.

👻The address had been kind of hard to find, some old, blocked off road with a creepy mansion at the end. Still, the party was in full swing, teens dancing and drinking, strobe lights and shitty music filled the main room of the house. You asked one of your classmates, Lucas, about the house.

"Oh, yeah. Some kid died here like, a hundred years ago or something. Big explosions, a fire..." A skinnier boy in a cat costume cut him off. "Don't listen to Lucas, it wasn't a hundred years ago, dude. It was like, the 90s." He rolls his eyes.

💚A little uneasy about sneaking into a house, much more the site of a gruesome death, you tried to enjoy the party. After a few drinks, Dr. Pepper, you weren't trying to call your parents to take you home, you went looking for a bathroom.

This would prove pretty difficult. That same boy from earlier, Lucas, ate worms, and was puking in bathroom number one. The second bathroom was locked, and from the groaning and smacking inside, you could tell you didn't want to know what was going on inside.

👻This had left you with not choice but to go to the bathroom in the basement. Standing at the edge of the stairs and looking down the dark hallway, floored with rickety wooden steps, you had gathered your courage and descended.

💚Biddle had expected company, but unlike the mask he coerced Isabella into taking, or the camera he snuck in Isaac's bag, you didn't take anything. He waited for another, foolish teen to take something. He had a few items set out for specific peoples... but, he wasn't against another thief falling victim to his cursed items.

👻However, you surprised him. Just looked for the bathroom door, went, and then headed right back up to the party. When Mr. Bratt came home, the teens scattered, to cars and into the woods. Harold used this time to torment Allison, his burned, ghostly form shrieking at her. She had screamed in terror, and Isaiah soon found her.

💚You were driving home, but took pity and stopped to help a few of your classmates whose rides had fled. After several hours of dropping people off, you were finally able to get back home. A pair of pale ghostly eyes watched you from the window of your room. No one else had stopped to help their friends, much less strangers. How nice you were...

💚As days went by, and mysterious terrors afflicted the teens of Port Lawrence, you grew close to some of them. A busy body named Margot, a cheer leader named Allison, and a jock named Isaiah. All shared and English class with the new teacher (and owner of the Biddle house), Mr. Bratt. Mr. Bratt was odder at sometimes than others, almost like he was fighting with himself. He was always tired and dark eyed.

👻From deep inside, viewing the world through Mr. Bratt, Harold would observe the teens. It was just as he remembered it, the gossip, the catty looks and the fake smiles. But nothing sickened him more than watching you interact with the others, so sweet and kind, but only friends with the filth in this town.

👻On your end, you really liked Mr. Bratt. He was a funny teacher, always cracking jokes and saying something odd. He always gave you perfect grades, which was odd because you noticed you had gotten a few questions wrong when you would compare projects and assignments to classmates. Still, he was a great teacher.

💚Harold wasn't a fool. He had always been smart when he was alive, and his evil intentions had made him no less cunning. He knows he can't pursue you romantically as long as he's possessing a teacher. He'd rather not get his possession vessel arrested and sent to jail. He doesn't want his house empty, not right now.

👻When he heard you had taken up the role of a tech member for the drama department, he formed a plan. The old elevator platform to the schools abandoned basement was 'accidentally' left open, a gaping hole in the dark of the stage.

💚You unfortunately weren't aware of this, and had stayed late to finish some lighting set up. As you close up and turn out the overhead lights, the floor had felt as those it disappeared beneath you. As you plummet, you let out a pitch scream. It wasn't a long fall, not even that deep, but it hurt. Your hips and ankle were aching, throbbing, and red hot tears had begun to stream from your cheeks. You felt to scared to stand or move, but it was late. How were you supposed to get out of here?

👻As you whimpered, you heard a sound in the silence. Just then, a sound from the side. It sounded like a creaking floor panel.

"H-hello? Is someone there?" You called out fearfully. A boy, haired curly and tall looms over you. His eyes have dark circles, his face almost blends into the shadows of the basement, but... you chalk it up to blurry vision and bad lighting.

💚"Aw... how'd you end up down here?" He asked, voice low and slow as he had tilted his head. "I'm on tech crew, I fell. I think my ankle is... twisted or something. Could you help me?" She asks.

"Of course..." he drawled. His eyes darkened and a grin tugged at his cheeks as he said the next statement. "What kind of sick, sick monster would leave someone to die in a basement, all alone?" He said. You gulp and chuckle awkwardly. "Well, it's just my ankle. Don't think I'm dying." You joked.

👻"Course not. Come on." He had extended his hand to you, and hoisted you up against him with surprising strength. Despite the soft flannel shirt he was wearing, his skin felt frigid to the touch, yet oddly warm, an icey burning sensation could be felt where his hand was still on your arm.

"Should be a lever... right over-" he looks around, the snaps his fingers and points. "Right there." You had both hopped on the platform. "How'd you know how to get out of the basement, I heard it's been blocked off like, forever." She asks.

💚"I guess I just, know more than other people." He shrugs. Once he had helped you out of the school, you had gone to your car. Fidgeting with your keys, you faced away from him as you unlocked your car. "What did you say your name was?" You ask.

👻"Doesn't matter. Just a friend." When you turn to him with a confused look, he's gone. You looked around, but tired, you drove from the lot.

💚Back at the Biddle Manor, while Mr. Bratt tried to get a peaceful night of sleep without being possessed for once, Harold is in the basement, playing with the Polaroid camera Isaiah had tried so hard to destroy. He wonders, can it just take normal photos if he wills it too? He has other things to attend too, he can't always watch you, but he'd love a few pictures of you.

👻Even if the camera could only take pictures of your fate, maybe it wouldn't bother him too much. What would the future hold? Would you be with him? He hoped so, but the idea of what he could see that would displease him swayed him away from that path. No, he'll stick to watching you through Bratt, when he can, or through your windows on those precious nights you leave a curtain open.

💚As he sits in the room of his demise, he looks at his hands, black char marks occasionally appearing. For once, he doesn't focus on the burning rage and actual burning feeling that courses through his body. No, this warmth is softer. The warmth from when you touched him and he touched you. Contact, from someone who cared. Someone who he saw every private moment of, just to ensure that you had only pure intentions with everyone you met. Would you betray him if you knew, what he was like, who he was? He shakes his head. No. He holds all the cards now. He won't be weak ever again, he won't let you slip away.

👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚👻💚

General bonus hc's:

💚Harold only wears what teens at Port Lawrence high now think of as 'grunge'. Oversized sweatshirt, flannels, loose pants. He has never once brushed his hair, even when he was alive. He doesn't hate that grunge is popular now though. He enjoy leaving a flannel or a Jean jacket in your closet, hoping you'll assume one of your parents gifted it to you.

👻You can always tell when his ghost in nearby, even if he's not visible there are tells, even if you don't realize what they are pointing too. You might feel a stinging if he passes by, a side effect of the pain from his burns. The smell of smoke and dark room chemicals fills the air if he's around, and you feel like your being watched.

💚He'd like to kiss you, or hold you, but he's not ready to even attempt that, much less a real introduction. He's got a lot going on right now. For now, you'll only see him around town, at night when your alone. At a bus stop? Oh, that mysterious boy from the other night us passing by. Buying a snack? He's got some spare cash. Walking home alone at night? Good thing his lanky silhouette can be seen leaning out from under a streetlight. Don't worry, he'll walk you home. You wouldn't believe the sort of monsters that live in this town, that lurk. It's enough to give you goosebumps...

You wonder why you always forget to ask his name...

[writing-reference-redux]

Halloween Prompts

60 ideas for writers and artists!

Either choose your own prompt, or ask your followers to choose for you by sending you a character or ship and the number or emoji. Also, let people know if you welcome combos (combining two prompts into a single story or art piece)!

🎃 - Pumpkin carving time!

🍭 - Candy eating contest!

🫣 - Let me tell you a scary story...

🙅 - In support of the Halloween-disliker

💬 - I'm scared, and I'm going to text you all about it

🤒 - What do you mean you're sick? It's Halloween!

😳 - I have never been so embarrassed in my life

😱 - Don't worry! They're just wearing costumes!

🍷 - A little tipsy, a little spooked

☕️ - Pumpkin spice and everything nice

🍁 - The leaves are lovely this time of year

🌙 - A stroll in the moonlight

💃 - Dance the fright away

💔 - Halloween heartbreak

❤️‍🩹 - Halloween heart-mending

💍 - A Halloween proposal

🛏️ - Getting spooky in the sheets (always practice safe hex)

📖 - An armchair, a bathrobe, and a good creepy book

📺 - Let's stay in and watch scary movies

🍿 - How about we go see that new horror flick?

🛒 - What do you mean I bought too many decorations?

🪡 - Adventures in costume making

💅 - Trust me, you're going to look great!

👥 - The perfect couple's costume idea

🧼 - Your makeup really won't wash off?

🥸 - They can't tell that it's me in this costume!

🍬 - We're (not) too old to go trick-or-treating

😈 - No treat, all trick

🏚️ - Two tickets for the haunted house, please

🕯️ - A little bit of candlelight

🔦 - Are you afraid of the dark?

👂 - Did you hear that?

👀 - I'm probably just seeing things

👻 - Do you believe in ghosts?

🧛 - Vampires aren't real... right?

🧟 - The dead walk (or run, or mosey, or swim...)

🐺 - Werewolves and other fuzzy menaces

🧙 - Are you a good witch or a bad witch?

🤡 - Clowns aren't THAT scary

🪓 - Didn't you hear there's an axe-man on the loose?

💀 - Is that skeleton rattling in this direction?

🐙 - It came from beneath the waves

🧠 - It's all in your head (no, really... it's in there)

🎭 - Possession for fun and profit

🤫 - Shh! It will hear you!

🕷️ - Eight-legged guests

🐈‍⬛ - Black cats need love, too

🐦‍⬛ - An unkindness of ravens, a murder of crows...

😴 - Nightmares can't hurt you

🧸 - Children shouldn't play with creepy things

👩🏽‍💻 - An online presence

📦 - What's in the box?

🪦 - We'll just take a quick shortcut through the graveyard

🔤 - Tell me that isn't a Ouija board

📜 - An unfortunate artifact

📕 - Volume of the damned

📼 - I wonder what's on this old VHS tape

🖼️ - A portrait of very bad things

🚪 - A strange door to... somewhere

🎶 - The reanimation of the ancient being known as a "songfic"

[kikyoupdates]

⭑˚💞⭑ yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.

00 — prologue 01 — a living miracle 02 — taking precuations 03 — swinging like a champ 04 — mr. two-faced 05 — the protagonist's arrival 06 — and so it begins 07 — stranger danger 08 — unexpected kinships 09 — not a partygoer 10 — awfully persistent 11 — trying a new approach 12 — top of the class 13 — swords and scones 14 — insatiable appetite 15 — an unwanted partner 16 — too close for comfrot 17 — academic distinguishment 18 — never ask for directions 19 — royally screwed 20 — call it payback 21 — stay disciplined 22 — tavern shenanigans 23 — pricked by a rose 24 — concerning weakness 25 — on school grounds 26 — knights tourney 27 — unpleasant discussion 28 — taking chances 29 — heavy heart 30 — library brainstorming session 31 — a friend's duty 32 — intoxication 33 — the aftermath 34 — dancing without a care 35 — personality shift 36 — clean slate 37 — worst date ever 38 — threatened 39 — feelings awry 40 — happiness 41 — a taste so sweet 42 — in denial 43 — revelation 44 — endless dream 45 — bereaved 46 — a hidden smile 47 — going to be okay 48 — thief's penance 49 — enraged 50 — hope and despair 51 — a sickening arrangement 52 — in theory 53 — to challenge fate

-ˋˏ ༻ Special Chapters༺ ˎˊ-

✿ halloween! 🎃 ✿ christmas! 🎄 ✿ valentine's day scenarios ✿ what could have been

More chapters are available on Quotev!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

💞 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[photmath]

New Mate | Dominik Szoboszlai

Pairing: Dominik Szoboszlai x Female Reader

Summary: In which Dominik joins the reader's friend group and the two spark up a connection even though the reader doesn't want to acknowledge it.

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: brief drunk Dom, halloween party, kiss, corn field

Note: I just love friend groups and this fic goes through them doing friendship fc stuff but mainly fluff with Dom and reader. Sorry, it is fairly PG. It's a bit long because this will probably be the only fic I write within the next few weeks/months. I also really really love Halloween.

“This is Dominik,” Trent introduces Dominik to the group. Trent, dressed in his dark red training outfit stands next to Dominik, who’s brown, disheveled hair drips from the raindrops despite having an umbrella sticking out of his backpack.

Jude smirks, holding out his hand for Dominik to shake. Dominik makes a show of wiping his hand across his grey sweats before greeting Jude.

“He’s the one who’s suspended from training for a week,” Trent says.

Jude’s jaw drops, “Mate! You didn’t have to tell him that.”

“Well he heard all about this ‘Jude’ person today in training and was confused on why you weren’t there.”

Dominik chuckles at the guys, before turning towards you, Reina, and Marie. His eyes dance around the three of you and then settle with a shy smile as he holds eye contact with you.

“Y/N, Reina, and Marie, in that order,” Trent says.

The three of you shake hands with him and then he sits down in the empty seat next to you, a bashful smile on his face as he listens to Trent and Jude bicker.

You turn towards Reina, who eyes him suspiciously, and say, “I bet he doesn’t last four weeks.”

Reina smirks, “How much?”

“A twenty.”

“Ohh, that confident?,” she joked.

“C’mon, when has someone new ever lasted that long with us? They always end up leaving.”

It was true, the group was formed when you all were nearly ten years old. You had known Trent after beating him in a race at school. You had met Reina the same year, finding out that you were neighbors shortly afterward. As for Jude and Marie, you met them while playing pick-up footy a year later. Five was already a crowd, let alone adding another, but individually you all were close. There would be days where you would only hang out with Jude, or Trent, or Marie alone or some combination of whoever could make it. You all studied together as well, took some classes together, and as of recently, moved in together.

Moving in together was something different. You had already lived with the girls but allowing Trent and Jude to move in was them metaphorically signing a lengthy pact that they would be good roommates—and because they begged on their knees for a week.

Reina leans in closer to you, “I’ll take the bet. Something about him tells me he’s here to stay. I don’t think Trent would have told us to be extra nice to him and introduce us to him so fast if not.”

You nod in agreement, the situations were different this time.

You glance down at your phone for the time, “Oof, I’ll see you guys later, I have to head to class.”

“You have class right now?” Dominik inquires, glancing up at you as you stand.

Nodding, you put on your rain jacket, “Yeah, it starts in about twenty minutes or so.”

“Oh I have class too, here let’s just walk together,” Dominik suggests and stands up.

Reina lets out a snort while Marie waves at the two of you. Jude and Trent bid their goodbyes as you wait for Dominik to sling his backpack over his shoulder. Walking out of the library and through the elevators is quiet, but comfortable nonetheless.

“I still don’t know my way around campus if I’m being honest,” Dominik chuckles.

“Do you know the name building? Maybe I can help,” you offer, deciding to listen to Reina’s pestering voice in your head.

“If you could just point me in the general direction,” he says nervously. “It’s called ‘Glass Hall.’”

“Oh that’s where I’m going.”

Perfect.

“Really?” Dominik excites. He places his hand on his chest and lets out an exhale, “That makes me feel a lot better actually.”

As the two of you near the library doors, he holds them open and then slips his umbrella out and opens it up. He tucks it between the two of you so you stay fairly close to him even though you have a rain jacket with a hoodie on. He’s already gone through the trouble.

“Didn’t think you knew how to work your umbrella after seeing you come in wet.”

He laughs loudly in your ear, “I was in a rush meeting Trent and thought I’d be okay just running a little bit, but no.”

You laugh with him, bumping into his shoulder every so often but neither of you make the motion to step aside. As you make your way around campus to Glass Hall, Dominik looks around, his head seemingly constant on a swivel as he takes in his new surroundings.

His eyes catch yours, a shy smile riddling his face, “I’m trying to remember. The boys only showed me the way to the fields and the main part of campus behind us.”

“You’ll get it down quickly, don’t worry. It’s like one of those things that once you know, you don’t have to think about it ever again.”

He nods, “Fast learner, hmm.”

Once you reach Glass Hall, Dominik folds his umbrella and shakes it. His eyes scrunch up at the building, “Thought there’d be more glass.”

You stifle a laugh, “No, definitely not. ‘Glass’ just happened to be their last name.”

He shakes his head with a smile, holding the door for you again, “Thank you for helping me get here.”

“Of course, I have to go use the restroom now, but the room numbers are pretty easy to find. Just follow the signs, we’re on the second floor right now.”

He nods, “Got it.”

Somehow, someway, you don’t expect Dominik to find the classroom after you. You took your time in the restroom, knowing you had some minutes to spare, so once you scouted the room and didn’t see Dominik—not that you were expecting him to be in the class—you thought you were fine. However, the moment you glance up at the double doors, he makes eye contact with you and you feel your cheeks raise in heat. He eyes the empty seat next you and immediately makes his way to it.

A childish chuckle erupts from him as he plops down, “I walked in circles.”

You fight off any annoyance you had towards him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to get to know him, it was more so that you had yet to know him at all. You knew exactly how Jude or Trent were in the classroom, knew that you couldn’t sit next to Reina or else you would talk to her throughout the lecture, but there was nothing for Dominik.

You furrow your brows, “Did you get lost?”

“No, it just was too early to come in, the class from before was still in here.”

You nod, “Maybe I should’ve asked what room number you were in.”

He laughs, “It’s okay. It would’ve been a surprise either way.”

Somehow, class goes smoothly without much interruption. Dominik pays attention to the lecture, jots down his notes in a journal and steals any glance towards you that he can get.

“Do you want to grab coffee?” he asks on his way out of the class.

“No it’s okay, I think I’m going to head back to the house, I’m not sure yet.”

He nods, “Ah, well it was nice meeting you.”

“You too, Dominik.”

----

Four weeks later, he was still sending you bashful smiles and trying to get you to crack. You engaged in conversation and his jokes, but he sensed that you still had some kind of wall up. Your responses were never too personal or sometimes downright vague. He would still ask if you wanted to grab coffee or lunch before meeting up with the group after class but you respectfully declined each time. On the other hand, Dominik cringed at the amount of times you had rejected him in the past weeks. Especially when you showed up to the library with coffee in your hand alongside Trent just after saying you needed to save money.

The class you shared with Dominik met for two days out of the week and each day the two of you would walk together to the library or you would split off somewhere else. The group would already be there in the study room, their classes either finished or were going to start in the next hour.

But it being the fourth week of class also meant that the group was due for doing something fun to take off the stress of studying and being in the house together. It was Dominik’s first time out with the group where you all were finally going somewhere other than a restaurant.

Now, squished beside Dominik in the backseat of Reina’s car, you had to let whatever metaphorical wall you had down because half of your ass was planted against his thigh.

“Oh fuck off!” Jude curses loudly, swiping his arm towards Marie who sat in the passenger.

“Hit me one more time, Jude,” Marie turns around and threatens. You can feel Dominik’s thigh tense underneath you at her outburst. The two of them argued before but Marie was never this upset.

“What?” Jude taunted, “what are you going to do?”

Marie reaches over and grabs a piece of Jude’s skin, twisting it within her pinch. Jude squirms onto Trent, Trent then pushing him onto your side that you fall more onto Dominik. Your head bumps against his, while your hand reaches for his other thigh so that you don’t slam into the door.

“Alright, both of you, chill the fuck out,” you tap Marie’s hand off of Jude’s calf while he groans. He folds his arms across his chest. His elbow stabs into your side that you have to lean more onto Dominik, who’s been quiet the entire time.

“This is why we don’t go bowling,” Reina mutters.

“I’m taller than all of you yet I’m in the back,” Jude huffs.

“Shut the fuck up, Jude,” you and Marie say in unison. He rolls his eyes, grumbling underneath his breath.

Once you all arrive at the bowling alley, you trickle out of the car, taking Dominik’s hand as he holds it out for you.

“Thank you,” you say warmly and he nods, closing the door behind you. Marie comes around from the passenger seat and gives Jude a side-hug, Jude’s annoyance doesn’t waver and you chuckle.

“Is he going to be upset the entire time?” Dominik whispers.

You shake your head, “I promise by the time we walk through those doors he’ll be smiling.”

Dominik raises his eyebrows, amused with your confidence, “Yeah?”

You hold out your pinky, “They’re fine.”

He takes it, promising the meaningless bet. His face squirms from the sunlight beaming down onto him, “Good, Marie is terrifying.”

Upon entrance, Dominik holds the door for everyone and like clockwork, Jude and Trent laugh loudly at something Marie says. You give Dominik a wink, him smiling brightly from the back of the group.

The six of you divide into two groups, you teaming up with the girls while the boys team up. Throughout the night, Dominik seems to always be at arm's length near you, always standing or sitting beside you between turns.

Of course he played as if there was real money on the line, easily getting strikes and spares. Even when Marie tried to distract him on the line, he got the spare like it was nothing. Trent was the one who usually was good at bowling amongst the group, but he was a solid ten points behind Dominik now.

That also meant that the girls were losing terribly.

“He’s too good,” Trent shakes his head as Dominik hits another strike. The ball curled right into the center pin at the last second, knocking them all down immediately.

You blew out a raspberry, impressed, looking back at Trent, “How does it feel to get knocked down from the one thing you're good at?”

He laughs, “Shush.”

Dominik comes back and sits down in the seat next to you, letting out a small sigh. Trent’s facial expression is still wide with shock. Jude, up next, immediately sends the ball into the gutter, cursing loudly.

You snort, “That kid.”

“How has he only hit 15 pins this entire game?” Dominik laughs.

“Look look,” Trent leans over and points at Jude getting ready to take his second chance. He rolls the ball and it seems promising, until it takes a roll to the right and goes down the gutter—again.

The three of you burst into laughter, Jude’s huffing and puffing only exacerbating the laughs. You don’t realize your hand had wrapped around Dominik’s bicep to support your laugh until you let go. He doesn’t seem to be phased by it at all though.

“I’m done, I’m done,” Jude complains, sitting down. Reina gets up for her turn, ignoring Jude’s antics.

“Jude do you want to pick the restaurant then?” you suggest. Jude looks up at you from across the table and nods, taking out his phone and searching for places nearby. You almost felt bad that Jude was a sore loser, but he was good at other things and loved to boast about them, so emphasis on the almost.

With the girls losing by nearly 100 points as the final score, you shake hands with the boys, giving Jude a sympathetic hug.

“You are such a loser,” you whisper.

“We beat you though.”

“You got the least of points.”

“It’s a team sport, I just let the lads down.”

“God you are so dramatic,” you laugh and he breaks out of character, laughing with you. Midlaugh, you catch Dominik’s eye on the both of you, a faint smile on his lips as he stares.

“Good game, Jude.”

“You too.”

Jude ends up sitting in the passenger seat on the way to the restaurant because he ‘has to give Reina the instructions’ to the restaurant. Marie is on one side of you while you are still squished against Dominik. His arm is spread out around the seats. Trent is pressed against the window so you couldn’t complain much.

Jude characteristically picks a crowded restaurant that has a short wait time but you slither between the line to go use the restroom. The girls don’t come along, insisting you were good to go alone, but quickly realize you’d regret it fast.

“Hey,” the guy waiting next to the men’s restroom says. He’s a lot older, jet black hair with wide blue eyes. His rustic brown leather jacket reeks of sweat and grass.

“Hi.”

“How’s it going?”

“Um, good.”

“You’re really beautiful, you know?”

You purse your lips, “Thanks.” Whoever was inside the single girl’s restroom needed to hurry up.

“What’s your name?”

You give him a fake name, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. There’s a moment of silence before the men’s door opens, instead of him going inside, he stays still. Even though there’s music and the clatter of a busy restaurant in the background, it’s lethally quiet in the hallway. The second the man grabs his phone, a thumping feeling evades your stomach. You swallow hard, hands beginning to pool with sweat as you imagine trying to defend yourself.

“Oh, hey!” There’s a chirpy voice coming towards you, Dominik. You can’t help but to gulp as you look up at him, although his smile doesn’t waver. He wraps his hands around your head, pulling you into his chest, “I’ve missed you, babe.” He says it loudly for the guy to hear and you don’t hesitate wrapping your arms around him, realizing what he was doing.

The women’s restroom door opens and she walks out, the guy still not moving. After a couple of seconds, the guy finally leaves and Dominik pulls away.

“Are you okay?” His hands are reluctant to let go, scanning your face it seems for every and any expression.

“How did you know?”

“I was watching you.” He says it as if it was a casual fact, as if it wasn’t a big deal. You were used to the boys being protective but this felt different, none of them had noticed this time except Dominik. “Do you still need to use the restroom?”

“Yeah,” you let go of him and he nods.

“I’ll be right here.”

“Thank you, Dom.”

He nods, “No problem, édesem.”

Your cheeks burn as you close the restroom door, certainly not understanding his last word or even recognizing its spelling so you can’t search it up. You’d have to ask him later on what it meant, but for now you were going to ignore the creepy guy and enjoy your time with the group.

The rest of the dining goes without a problem for you and the group, you sitting next to Trent while Dominik sits across from you. The table is so small that you can feel Dominik’s knees bump into you from time to time but you pay no attention to it. He would send you small smiles throughout dinner, asking you what you were gonna get, and engage in conversation.

He was kind, much different than any other guy you had been introduced to by the boys or met in class. After the small debacle with the guy by the restroom, you realized just how far Dominik was willing to go to care for the group—or how far he had already gone. At one point, you had walked into the study room and he was shirtless as Trent and Marie used him to practice placing electrodes around his chest. Or when he stayed with Jude until the night to help him with his math homework. During the dinner nights that Dominik would join, he would help clean the kitchen afterward without having to be told, immediately helping whoever was cleaning.

“There’s a pumpkin patch!” Marie exclaims from the backseat as you all make your way back to the house. “You have to stop Reina, look, it's still open!”

“A corn maze,” Jude hums, “you know I’ve always seen those in the movies but I’ve never been.”

“It’s quite dark,” Trent murmurs.

“Makes it all better,” Dominik chimes. His low voice is right next to your ear and it sends goosebumps down your spine because you don’t expect to hear him at all. “Corn mazes in the dark—oof. Perfect.”

“See, Dom, that is some death wish type of stuff,” Reina shakes her head.

“You don’t like scary things?”

“No!” Reina pulls over anyway, intrigued with the twinkling orange lights. The area was still well-lit with people lingering around despite the night sky in full effect.

“Do you like scary movies?” Dominik whispers, tapping your shoulder.

You face towards him, your response at the tip of your tongue but it halts at his eyes. They’re set on your lips, a small smile plastered on his face as he looks up at you. He leans his head against the space between the window and headrest, that small smile turning smug.

“N-No,” you admit, cheeks going hot under his gaze. You slowly turn your head towards the front, trying to shake off his stare but to no avail.

Arriving at the pumpkin patch, you and the girls immediately head towards the pumpkins, searching through the smaller ones for the perfect one. You watch as some younger kids knock on a couple of them and then place them to their ears. Dominik chuckles, doing the same and sending one of them a goofy smile as he catches her stare.

“It sounds perfect.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugs, “I trust myself.”

“Ohh,” you gawk while he raises his eyebrows up as he bluffs. You laugh, pushing against his arm, glancing at the girls who had two smaller pumpkins at their sides. You keep on walking around the sections of the pumpkins, scanning them and holding them, before finally settling on one. As you search for the group, you notice Dominik is the only one waiting for you some steps away.

He nods to the start of the corn maze, “Come on.”

“They all went into it?”

“Yeah, it’s not long, I think.”

“Not long if you don’t get lost,” you grumble. It looked a little spooky, especially with the glow of the lights dimming the further you stepped into it. The soothing incandescent lights were replaced with fewer fluorescent ones.

Dominik smirks, adjusting the grip on his pumpkin, “It’s not scary. Little kids are going into it.”

“They also jump off playgrounds without caring.”

He chuckles, pushing you gently along.

“I can just wait out here.”

“Come on, édesem, then you never have to do anything.”

You hug the pumpkin a little tighter and step further into the maze. The leaves of the corn slap alongside your body as you and Dominik make your way through it, so far there were no scary pop ups.

“So bowling?” you say, trying to get rid of the eerie quietness. “How did you get so good at it?”

Dominik holds up some leaves so you can get through it, “We played it a lot at my old school. Me and my teammates. We had bowling lanes at our school too, and it was small, so they were always empty.”

“Oh so you’ve had a lot of practice?” you were shivering, trying to hold onto this pumpkin without making it obvious that the growing darkness was making you a little more scared. The corn crops were nearly Dominik’s height, and so looking up at the sky seemed so vastful when you only had a sliver of space to do so.

He chuckles, “I have. We competed a lot and I don’t like losing.” You laugh, it’s so strained that he sends you a look, “You okay?”

“It’s just a little scary.”

“There are signs! It would’ve been scary if we had none and we got lost in here,” he jabbered.

“We still can,” you turn towards the sign beside you just to make sure that you were going in the right direction. “They’re hanging by a piece of tape, what if it falls off? Or a kid rips them off—Dom?” Dominik’s presence beside you had suddenly disappeared. You hadn’t even felt him walk away or heard him squeeze into the crops. His body heat had still ghosted the skin of your arm.

“Okay, Dom, very funny,” you groan, spinning around in place. You knew he couldn’t have gone far. “I’m scared, you got me, now come out.”

Seconds in silence went by, and what seemed to scare you more was knowing that Dominik could see you but you couldn’t see him. The thought of other people lurking in the crops being able to do the same crept across you that you shuddered.

“Seriously Dominik,” you mumbled. “I’m getting scared okay, it’s not funny.”

You let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your temples with one hand. The light starting to flicker didn’t help, you looked up at it immediately.

Great.

“Dom—”

As you turned towards the path, you smashed into Dominik’s chest, recognizing his skull and bones necklace before you shut your eyes closed. You shriek and let go of the pumpkin in the process, him catching it midfall. His laugh fills your ears but you can feel your heart damn near beating out of your chest. You hadn’t heard yourself scream that scared in so long that you hit his arm.

“Jesus!”

“Okay, I won’t do that again.”

“You are such an ass!” you say through shielded eyes. His hand is resting against your back as he pushes you into the direction of the exit. Your heartbeat doesn’t calm down until you both stumble out, finally getting rid of the weight of the fear across your back.

Dominik still wears an arrogant smug as the two of you head towards the paying booth for the pumpkins. You pull out your wallet, glancing at your last twenty, “Oh darn, I was going to use that last twenty for Reina.” You shrug, taking it out.

“I can pay for them,” Dominik suggests.

“No it’s okay.”

“We can call it even, me scaring you in the corn maze and I pay for your pumpkin,” he says. “Really, it’s fine.”

“Okay,” you concede, slipping the twenty back into your wallet. As the two of you stand next in line, you search for the rest of the group, seeing only Jude, Marie, and Reina in a section. Trent had to be somewhere close by but you weren’t worried, just glad that they weren’t lost in the corn maze.

Dominik turns towards you after he’s done paying, “What were you giving Reina money for?”

“Oh, this dumb bet,” you chuckle, “I lost.”

“Yeah?” he muses. “What was it?”

You bite onto your lip, seeing his lopsided smile and glowing eyes. The tip of his nose had a barely-there red tinge to it from the cold. His hair combed over and gelled in a neat manner and his beard trimmed. He looked content. Content with walking around with you and being in the group over all.

Realizing he had been waiting for an answer, you let out a cough, “Reina and I bet you wouldn’t last four weeks with us.”

He laughs, “Why is that?”

“Because no one ever does, I guess they get intimidated because we are all so close to each other that they feel like they don’t belong.”

He nods, already knowing much of the friends’ history, “I can understand that. And you lost?” He stops in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowing as his smile slowly fades, “If you lost that means—that would mean you had to bet that I wasn’t going to last? Right? Because it’s been nearly a month.”

“Yeah, and you are still here standing strong—”

“But you didn’t think I’d be here.”

“Well, yeah because—”

“Wait wait wait, when exactly was this bet made?”

Dominik’s demeanor seems reluctant to hear the answer to the question that he already knows. Obviously it was early on, four weeks ago to be exact.

You bite onto your cheek, “The first day we met.”

His face scrunches as if he’s been let down—because in a way he has. He shifts his pumpkin to the other side of his hip, running his fingers through his hair not caring that he messed it up.

“So this whole time, it’s why you’ve been so superficial, why only you in the group have been so—just not wanting to hang out with me. Almost avoiding me. Rejecting anything I offer and being hesitant to say yes. You’ve been trying to push me out this entire time for a twenty?”

“No, Dom,” you say the moment he stops. You swallow the lump in your throat, not realizing what you had been doing that the entire time. Disgusted with the way he’s grossly misunderstood the situation, you try to reason with him. “That’s not what happened. It was a dumb bet, meaningless. It didn’t mean anything. You’ve fit into this group like you’ve known us our whole life.”

He shakes his head, licking his lips as he lets out a shaky sigh, “I fit in with everyone except you. You’ve always given me a hard time.”

“By not accepting coffee?”

“By not giving me anything. Everything I know about you is from either watching you or what the group tells me. I ask you where you work and you’re like: ‘Oh, it’s nearby.’ You never give me anything to grasp,” he pinches his fingers together. “I had to ask Trent when your birthday was because you said: ‘Not near.’ What was I supposed to do with that?” The laugh he lets out is almost bitter, absolutely gobsmacked with all the cues that he missed, only realizing them now. “If you didn’t like me, you could’ve just said that. I wouldn’t have taken offense.”

“Dom, that’s not true. I do like you, you’re a great guy and have been nothing but nice to my friends and I.”

“Where do you work then?”

“On campus, I’m a tutor.”

His eyes are riddled with hurt and skepticism. So skeptical that it tugs at your heartstrings because you know he doesn’t believe you. His tongue makes a noise against his teeth as he pulls out his wallet. He pulls out cash, “Here’s the twenty for Reina.” He doesn’t wait for you to grab it, shoves it into your hand so you have to hold it or else it'll fall onto the grass.

“Dominik.”

He shakes his head, “I thought I had finally found a group of friends besides my teammates, Y/N. Maybe the reason no one gets close to you all is because you’re betting against them to lose the entire time.”

The gnawing feeling from your chest travels to your throat, causing you to let out a cough. The feeling of betraying him made you feel so bad, like you had committed a crime. Hell, you might as well have after looking at the realization dawn onto him. His eyes were far from the tender and shy ones you met on the first day.

The car ride back to his apartment was quiet on your side. Dominik doesn’t say a word or laugh the entire time, and once you get to his place, he murmurs his goodbye’s to the group and goes inside.

----

“I thought Dominik was coming?” Jude says to Trent as he enters the kitchen. It had been two weeks since the pumpkin patch and Dominik hadn’t shown up to the library at all. He was either skipping class or found a new seat because he wasn’t sitting next to you either. However, he made it to training and his games without a problem so he was still around somewhere.

Trent shrugs, “He said he was taking care of his roommate. Roommate is hungover.”

Jude cringed, “Ouch.”

Reina bumps into your shoulder on the couch, “Have you got your outfit for tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Dominik’s Halloween party, even though you felt like shit, you had to go in order to talk to him. Hopefully your presence wouldn’t ruin the mood. Dominik had invited the group very early on, knowing that it would just be his teammates and their partners that would be there.

“Of course,” you smile. “Finally got Barbie’s pink hat yesterday.”

“Good!” Reina exclaims.

The two of you talk some more, the boys and Marie joining in on the couch to watch a movie. Even though Dominik had been with you and the group for such a short time, his missing presence was more noticeable the longer he was away. The spot on the couch that everyone designated for him, hadn’t been touched or occupied since his last visit. It started to get sad staring at it being empty.

----

Dominik’s party seemed to be a lot more boisterous than what you were expecting. The players were loudly singing along to the music in the background, their costumes coming undone throughout the night as they partied. The party wasn’t at Dominik’s apartment because having a party in his apartment would’ve most likely gotten shut down immediately. Instead, it was at one of his teammate’s with Dominik’s car parked out in the front.

Dominik dressed up as a cowboy with a brown felt hat and brown boots. Dark jeans with a large belt buckle, white and gray long sleeve shirt that stopped at his forearms. His hair wasn’t gelled as it peaked out of the hat; he looked handsome in his well-thought outfit. He was talking to his friend when you all walked in, his eyes meeting yours and skimming your outfit. Despite him letting his eyes linger on yours, he never smiled or waved. You had to look away eventually, grimacing, waiting until the group went up to greet him. That was the only time you were able to mumble out a greeting as he bent down to give you a hug.

It wasn’t until an hour in that you went upstairs to go use the restroom and found Dominik in the hallway waiting for you. He pointed to a bedroom and let you walk in first.

“Hey,” he says. The lamp next to the door casts a shadow on his eyelashes that makes his eyes look blown and vulnerable.

“Hey,” you purse your lips. “Are you sure we can be in here?”

“It’s Harvey’s room, we told him to lock his doors,” Dominik’s arms are crossed behind him near the door knob but you can hear the small sound of the door locking before he releases his hands.

Dominik’s eyes still hold a dubious flicker in them as he looks at you, waiting for you to say something. He leans against Harvey’s desk.

“Dominik, I'm sorry about all of that. Firstly, it was only me. The group had nothing to do with the bet, they didn’t know about it at all except Reina but she was on your side the entire time. I was just,” you let out a small sigh, “the longer we stayed in contact, I started to realize that you were probably going to last more than a month and that you were a great guy. I didn’t want to be wrong, that me getting close to you was for no reason. I have nothing to hide, really, I’m just not used to opening up to people that much because I’ve known them my entire life. There is nothing to open up with them.”

Dominik nods, shuffling his hands alongside his belt buckle and pockets. His eyes don’t leave yours. The light makes them appear softer, and you can’t tell if he believes you or not because of it.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. It was selfish, very selfish. I should’ve thought about how that would’ve affected you if you were to find out before taking on the bet.”

“It’s okay, I—um—I believe you,” he says. “It just made me really confused because the boys, Jude and Trent, they talk about you a lot when you’re not around, and it was like the things they said weren’t adding up to the version I was with. But then I would see you interact with the others and it was like, that is you. I like who you are when you’re with the group, and I know it will take some time for you to see me as part of one of you guys because of the history, but I really wish you did. It shows sometimes, but…not a lot.”

You almost want to cry at his words, you have to blink rapidly to chase away the tears because they were near. Dominik simpers and you have to fan yourself, “I promised I wouldn’t cry in this makeup that Reina took forever putting on me.” Dominik only laughs as you turn away from him, it being the only way you can stop whatever is happening. “I do see you a part of the group, which is weird to say because I’ve never seen someone else like that, but you not eating dinner with us yesterday like you usually do on Friday’s, really made me miss you.”

Dominik steps forward with a smile the moment the first tear falls.

“Stop laughing, I feel like shit!”

His hat bumps into your’s that he takes both of them off and places them onto Harvey’s bed, “You should, well not anymore because I forgive you. I missed the group and you.”

He gently wipes away the tear that you missed and dries it onto his jeans, not caring if the makeup will potentially stain his jeans or not. “I’m so sorry, Dom.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I know I said I wanted to see the real you but your crying hurts my heart a little,” he says, his accent growing stronger with each word. “The tears keep coming, gah.”

You laugh throughout the tears because he’s being very sweet and gentle with you, even though you shouldn’t be the one receiving the consoling. It should be him that’s more upset but he doesn’t have a hint of anger in him at all. He’s been more focused on you even before you started crying, he was all eyes on you even when you weren’t looking at him.

“Barbie did have a crying scene, you know, so this is fitting.”

Dominik’s face contorts up with confusion, his hand resting on your shoulder as he thinks.

“You didn’t watch Barbie?”

“No.”

“You monster!”

He cheeses, “You aren’t crying anymore.” He throws a fist bump.

“No, because I can’t believe you didn’t watch that movie.”

“Maybe we can watch it together,” he suggests.

“We will,” you say without hesitation. Wiping away the last tears with force, he stifles a chuckle. His messy hat hair and cheeky smile, it made your cheeks warm up.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod, “Are you?”

“Of course,” he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug. He kisses your forehead and then tucks his head further down into you. He was a great hugger, making you sigh in content as you held onto his strong back.

Once you release, he grabs the hats and places his on top of your head. You’re too engrossed with the way his eyes seem delicate but focused to do such a simple task that you don’t notice the brown brim until he puts on your pink one.

“Hey!”

“We look good,” he says, pointing to the mirror that’s focused behind you. You turn around, his eyes beaming into yours once you find him. “I really like your outfit, the pink, it’s nice.”

“I like yours too,” you say as you turn back towards him. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows down, his lips parting slightly.

“What do you like about it?” He tilts up the brim of your—his—hat up so that he could see your eyes.

Caught off guard with the question, you glance down at his outfit, feeling his gaze follow your downcast. “I like the belt buckle, and the boots.” You let out a nervous laugh, it stopping immediately once his finger finds your chin, picking your head up to look up at him. You can’t make out the glint of his eyes but it’s intoxicating, drawing you in.

“Édesem,” he repeats. His finger trails to the side of your neck, resting it alongside there while his thumb ghostly traces against your jaw.

The nickname snaps you out of your daze, grounding you to your surroundings, “I still have no idea what that means.” Even though you were still, the urge to pull him closer was strong. It was intoxicating! Luring you in as if you had no morals. His lips and eyes were all you stared at.

His teeth break out through his smile, “It’s Hungarian.”

“I assumed,” you said, your hands finding his hips. Your touch seems to catch him off guard, his mouth eliciting a small gasp as you pinch the material of his shirt between your fingertips.

“Sweetheart, it means sweetheart.”

You can’t help but to break out in a smile, “This whole time you’ve been calling me ‘sweetheart,’ I bet you got a kick from that, hmm? Me not knowing?”

He laughs, throwing his head back, “I’m trying to kiss you right now and you’re ruining it.”

“Then kiss me goddammit,” you urge, gripping onto the sides of his shirts. He chuckles, tilting your head up a little more before kissing you. It’s soft at first, but then his belt buckle hits you near your stomach and you scowl. You block his bulging belt buckle with one hand and he groans, feeling the added pressure down his pants. He laughs within the kiss, pulling away and kissing your cheek before releasing you. Your hands remain tight on his shirt, and he sends you a mischievous glance.

“I told Harvey we were just going to talk.”

“We’re talking,” you say.

He raises his eyebrows, “You’re trouble, édesem.”

“No way,” you let go of his shirt, brushing off the wrinkles and sending him a wink. He shakes his head, bending down to kiss you one last time before unlocking the door and getting out before anything else can happen.

----

“Someone has to take Dominik’s car home, preferably with Dom,” Trent says, holding a drunk Dominik underneath his arm. Dominik clearly hadn’t thought through how his car would get out of here. It would be towed before morning if they didn’t move it, and they were the only lingering ones left from the party, “I’m not all that sober and it’s manual.”

“Like any of us know how to drive manual!” Reina groans. But you did know, having learned how to drive manual some time ago.

“I can do it.”

“Yeah?” Trent raises his eyebrows.

You nod, “Yeah, I got him.” You open Dominik’s car door and help him get inside.

“Just take him to the house,” Trent suggests and you nod, knowing damn well you weren’t about to drive all the way to Dominik’s apartment.

Both of your hats are underneath your arm as you get into the car. Dominik’s holding his head, trying to soothe the impounding headache that’s about to come.

You look towards him after putting the hats in the backseat, “Seatbelt?”

“The car is spinning,” he spurs your name, groaning. You reach up to grab the seatbelt across from him and buckle it for him. He dramatically looks up at you, “You smell good.”

“Thank you, Dom,” you roll your eyes. You adjust the seat and drive to the house. Dominik is fairly quiet for the ride, closing his eyes and nodding off. Trent and the rest of the group should arrive shortly after you.

Dominik leans onto you as the two of you enter the house, him immediately going to the toilet and throwing up, “God I haven’t been this drunk in years. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, you can go to sleep here.”

“Can I shower?” The buttons of his shirt are undone, his chest peeking out from underneath. Sweat brimmed around his hairline, making a few pieces stick to his face.

You nod, “Yeah you can. I can find a set of Trent’s clothes for you, I think you both are the same size.”

As you enter the hallway, you can hear the clatter of the rest of them entering from downstairs. You get a set of clothes from Trent and take them up to Dominik, who’s mindlessly staring around in your bedroom.

“You creep,” you mumble.

That goofy smile he wears, you wanted to smack his face for being so handsome even when he was drunk.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek and then going into your restroom and showering. You take that time to change out of your outfit and grab an extra blanket and pillow for Dominik to use on the couch.

Once he finishes showering, he steps out of the restroom, the shirt slinged over shoulder while he towels off his wet hair. It’s a battle keeping your eyes leveled with his, especially when his teasing smile only adds more flame to the fire.

“You have a nice room,” he says.

“Thanks,” you smile. He sits down on the bed and the moment he starts to lean down you shake your head, “No, no, you are not sleeping on my bed.”

He chuckles, “I’m just laying, resting my head!”

“Dominik, if you sleep—”

“I won’t.” He glances at the wall of pictures you have with the group, he fixes the one that’s crooked, before looking back at you, “I can’t wait to be up there.”

“I have my camera if you want to,” you point to the polaroid sitting on the bottom of your nightstand.

His curious eyes follow you and then look up towards you, “Yeah? I don’t have a shirt on.” His arms suddenly cover up his chest as if he were getting cold.

“We can take one tomorrow or another time if—”

He shakes his head, “It’s alright. Go for it.”

You point the camera in his direction, him cheesing widely and then you hand the photo to him as he waits for it to develop. You take that moment to freshen up in the restroom. You couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes, but that’s enough time for Dominik to have slumped over and fallen asleep. Low, rhythmic snores come out of his nose while his legs hang off the side of the bed. The polaroid is pinched tight between his fingertips.

You groan, accepting that he would be sleeping on your bed. Swinging his legs onto the bed is enough to make him stir but not wake up. Once you get situated on the other end, you turn off the lights and he flips over, his words are a slurred mess as he says: “I missed you, édesem.”

The next morning, Dominik wakes up before you. He looks at you confused, double checking that the rest of his clothes were on and then lets out a loud sigh, waking you up.

“Sorry,” he says meekly, “I got scared.”

“Of what?”

“That we—”

“Ugh,” you groan, throwing a smaller pillow at his shoulder. He laughs, and then immediately clutches his head as he falls back down onto the pillow. “There’s some medicine on the nightstand and water.”

It was still too early for you to wake up, especially with the way the rain pattered against the window. Your room was freezing but not underneath the blankets. You flipped over and faced the wall, closing your eyes while you listened to Dominik stir around. He got up and went to go use the restroom, coming back wearing a gray hoodie of yours.

“It fits,” he cheeses. A small smile creeps onto your lips, he looked so happy. A little goofy with his ruffled hair but handsome. You turn over as Dominik slips back underneath the covers. “Can I?”

You nod and he pulls you closer to him, letting his legs tangle with yours. He kisses your cheek and neck slowly, feeling you squirm underneath him with each ghost of a kiss. The palms of his hands sneak underneath the hem of your shirt and rest on your lower back. They’re so cold but they’re a nice contrast against your searing skin. He lets out a small hum as he closes his eyes, sleeping with you.

----

Note: eheheheh that man is so hot, love him and trent

[droppingdonkeys]

Encanto tv series

In every episode Luisa tries a new hobby in the B/C plot and it goes a different direction each time.

There's 12 Madrigals so that already gives 12 character-centric episodes, + 12 if you want to do flashback episodes for each character so that's already 24.

Townie-centered episodes

Obligatory halloween episode where the grandchildren tell each other scary stories of the outside world.

Dolores and Mariano get engaged/married in a mid season finale/season finale.

Over the course of the series a trading&transport system is created for people to safely get in and out of the Encanto to the nearest town.

Obligatory "the oldest granddaughters go out and shenanigans happen." also Camilo and Mirabel spy/tag along.

Mariano goes with the other granddaughters out of the Encanto to get the best engagement ring for Dolores (because only the best of the best is good for her). Camilo and Antonio tag along and they get into trouble. Dolores hears everything and goes to bail her boyfriend and cousins/brothers out.

in each episode a part of the diverse Colombian culture could/should be explored. (food, music, dancing, fashion, history, etc)

Each season, new outfits for everyone!

:)

[mrsstarkey1]

it must be fate - jj maybank

SUMMARY: the three times that fate pulled you and JJ together ; very loosely based on Invisible String by Taylor Swift - requested by @willowpains

WORD COUNT: 3.3k 

WARNINGS: curse words

a/n: i absolutely adore this fic and i have an idea for a part two, so lmk if u want it

—

THE FIRST TIME: the meeting

The minute you walk through the classroom door, all eyes are instantly on you. Your tiny hands tighten around your backpack straps and you take in a deep, shaky breath. 

“What’s your name sweetie?” the teacher at the front of the room asks you sweetly, after you’ve been silent for a couple moments. 

“Um- y/n. I just moved here,” you mutter, feeling a familiar burn on your cheeks as you try to avoid eye contact with all of the kids staring at you. 

“Hello y/n, welcome to OBX Middle School,” she glances around the room, searching for a place to direct you to. “I think we have a full class, but Zoe isn’t here today, so you can go ahead and take a seat there. Right next to JJ,” she points to an open seat, and your eyes find the boy she’s talking about. 

The boy in question turns around in his seat, eyes meeting yours. You take a moment to look at him. His blonde hair fell over his forehead freely, and he wore khakis and a red t-shirt stained with what you can only imagine as dirt; he looked disheveled in almost every way, but he wore a smile on his face that made it almost impossible for you to look away. 

You realize, far too late, that you’ve been staring for awfully too long. You shuffle over to the seat, a shy smile on your face directed at the boy- JJ. You liked that name. You wondered what it was short for. 

You put your bag next to your chair, shuffling through it to find your pencil bag.  Your hand grips it, and as you pull it out of the bag, it slips out of your hand and falls to the floor with an audible thud. You close your eyes for a short moment in embarrassment.

You open your eyes, ready to reach down and pick it up, but JJ already has it in his hands, holding it out to you. “Here,” he says simply, the same kind smile on his face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out, a slight chuckle leaving your lips. “I’m y/n,” you say quietly, only wanting the boy to hear and not the rest of the class. 

The boys smile widens, “I’m JJ.” 

“Anything you’d like to share with the class, Mr. Maybank?” the teacher questions, her voice raised. 

“No, ma’am,” JJ says with a small smirk, sending one last glance your way. 

“Alright then. Pay attention, and stop corrupting the new girl,” she says, a slight joking tone in her voice. 

Your cheeks turn red at the mention of you, but your lips twitch into a smile when you see the look on JJ’s face. 

Five minutes ago, you’d walked into the classroom terrified of being in a whole new town and school. But now, for some reason you couldn’t possibly explain, as you looked at JJ, you felt calm. 

In that moment, you felt like maybe being the new kid wouldn’t be as terrible as you’d thought. 

THE SECOND TIME: the halloween dance

Your hands fiddle with the hem of your skirt as you stand on your tiptoes, scanning the room for your date. Your nose scrunched up when you said the word in your head, ‘date’. You were only in 7th grade, and you’d never dated before. You didn’t even like Johnathon like that, so you didn’t know why your heart was clenched tightly and your eyes welled up with tears when you couldn’t find him. 

It had been nearly an hour since the dance started; since you were supposed to meet Johnathon at the front doors. 

You let an irritated, embarrassed, and sad sigh escape your lips as you sit down on the bleachers, as you finally realized that Johnathon was not coming. And you’d worn this extremely uncomfortable cowgirl costume for nothing. Dressing as Jessie and Woody for the Halloween Dance had been Johnathans idea; he’d said it would be the perfect couples costume. It had excited you, if you were being honest, to be a part of a couples costume. But now you’d desperately wished that you’d never said yes in the first place. 

You stand up off of the bleachers after mentally coming to the decision that you needed to leave. When your gaze directs toward the double doors of the gym, your eye just barely catches the back of a brown cowboy hat. Woody’s cowboy hat. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and your feet begin to move before you can let another thought enter your mind. You reach Johnathan, tapping him on the shoulder excitedly. He turns around, cowboy boots slapping against the wood floor and you take a step back when you see the cowboys face. Your eyes trail over the boy’s outfit, eyebrows furrowing together. He was woody, all right, but he was not Johnathan. “JJ?” 

JJ’s eyes narrow for a split second, giving your costume a once over. “Y/n?” he asks, a shocked smile developing on his face. “Wow, I haven’t seen you in forever.” 

You nod in agreement, still a little rattled by the strangeness of this moment. JJ Maybank - the boy you sat next to in 4th grade and hadn’t talked to since, was standing in front of you wearing the costume that coupled with yours, and the original owner of the costume idea was no where to be found. Strange, you think. 

“I’ve never seen you at a dance before,” you say, shifting on your feet. 

JJ sighs, “yeah, I didn’t really want to come, but some of my friends convinced me, and now I don’t know where the hell they went,” he says, irritated as he looks around the gym aimlessly. His eyes shift back to you after a moment, “I like your costume,” he says with a small smile. 

Your cheeks turn pink, you’re not sure why. “Crazy, isn’t it? That we’re matching. I was supposed to meet Jackson here; he was supposed to be Woody too, but I haven’t seen him.” 

JJ frowns at the disappointment in your voice that you were trying to cover up. “Well, it’s a good thing you have a back-up Woody,” he says with a smile, gesturing to himself. 

You chuckle, “you’re offering to keep me company?” you ask, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. 

JJ nods, stepping toward you a little and extending his hand. “Well, we do have matching costumes,” he says with a smile and a small shrug. 

Suddenly, with one touch of your hands to JJ's, every thought about Johnathan had left your mind. Matter of fact, every thought that didn't have to do with the blonde boy in front of you, had left your mind.

Maybe this dance won't be so bad, you thought.

THE THIRD TIME: the party 

You were absolutely fucking plastered. 

The realization hit you when you tripped over literally nothing and slammed into the wall, the wind being knocked out of you. All you can do is laugh hysterically as you push your body off the wall, attempting to steady yourself. 

You lean your back against the wall, giving into your exhaustion a little. You’d been at this party for hours, you think. You don’t actually know how long you’ve been here, all you know is that you’ve had a drink in your hand the entire time. And when a drink is in your hand, you drink it. 

You normally didn’t drink this much at parties, you swear. Multiple factors went into this night being… different. Your friends who had invited you were absolutely nowhere to be found, and you’d really been looking forward to going to this party for weeks. You hadn't gone to any social event in what felt like forever, so getting back out there was exciting - at first. Now, you were absolutely wasted and alone, at a party where you didn't really even know anyone.

You notice the lack of weight of the red solo cup in your hand, frowning at the sight of the bottom of the cup through the tiny bit of clear liquid that was left. 

On your way over to the drink table, you run straight into a tall figure, and two arms reach out to steady you. “Woah woah- watch where ur going,” he says harshly.  

“My bad,” you slur, involuntarily laugh leaving your lips. 

The guys eyes land on yours, noticing your clear intoxication, “Hey, y/n, right?” You nod lazily, only humming in response. “I’m Jackson, if you didn’t already know,” he says, cockiness in his voice evident to you even in his drunken state. 

You smile anyway, holding out your hand, “nice to meet ya.” 

He chuckles, shaking your hand tightly. “Whatchu drinkin’ there?” he asks, peeking his eyes over into your cup. 

You look at it too, swirling the small amount of liquid around a couple times. You shrug, “dunno. It’s good, but it’s almost empty.”  

The boy chuckles, eyes scanning over you one more time, “I hear Cameron hides some top shelf shit up in his room,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Wanna go check it out?” 

Alarm bells go off in your brain - the part that’s still somewhat aware of what’s happening. You stay silent, but you shake your head a little. Your mind says no. Your body also says no. But the strong hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist says ‘you don’t have a choice.’ 

—

“Come on, JJ,” John B says, putting the twinkie in park. 

JJ groaned, “why the fuck do I have to go in? Didn’t you say it would take ‘literally two seconds,’” he mocked him in a deep voice. 

John B rolls his eyes, “just come the fuck on. You can grab a couple free beers,” he said with a slight smirk, knowing that would get him.

JJ huffs, shaking his head as he opens the passenger seat door, then slamming it shut. 

“I just have to drop off Sarah's bag she left at my place, then we’ll be out of here. 5 minutes, tops.” 

“Whatever,” JJ mutters, leaning against the wall and sipping a beer. He lets out an irritated sigh, eyes mindlessly scanning around the party. Maybe he’d find someone with something better than shitty beer. 

His eyes go past two figures on the stairs, immediately doing a double take. His eyes narrow at the scene, and then he recognizes you. You, who he hasn’t seen in years. His eyes stay on you for a couple moments, but once the shock leaves him, he notices the other figure. A guy, a kook he barely recognizes dragging you up the steps. 

“Ouch,” he reads your lips from across the room, unable to hear over the music and voices around him. 

That’s all it takes for JJ to snap out of his trance of shock, pushing himself off the wall and rushing toward the stairs. He pushes his way through the crowd, bumping shoulders with everyone in his way. “Hey!” he calls out, finally in range of you and the kook dragging you up the stairs. He moves up the stairs, placing himself in between you and the douche bag. “Get off of her,” JJ says through gritted teeth, eyeing his grip on your arm. You look up at him, the look in your eyes grateful even though you’re not entirely aware of the situation. 

“The fuck’s your problem, Maybank?” the guy barks out, letting go of you to use both his hands to shove JJ’s chest. 

JJ doesn’t flinch, the only movement in his body being the clench of his jaw. “Leave the girl alone,” he says lowly, eyes flickering to you just for a moment. 

Jackson chuckles, “this is none of your business, pogue. We were just heading upstairs to talk, right y/n?” 

You gulp, leaning against the wall for support, your head spinning. “I-” you start, before realizing words won’t make it past the tip of your tounge. Your eyes meet JJ’s, and all you can do is shake your head and hope he knows what to do. 

“Son of a bitch,” JJ mutters. He pulls his arm back, only a second before his fist makes contact with Jackson’s face, his body immediately making contact with the wall. 

Small gasps are heard from all around the room, but the intrigue of the scene only lasts a moment before people go back to how they were before. 

Your eyes trail down to Jackson’s practically limp body slumped up against the wall. Relief floods through your body, and suddenly you feel even dizzier than you did before. “Hey, hey,” JJ’s hands are suddenly on your hips, supporting your weight. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” 

“No,” you manage to croak out, your throat closed up tightly and tears welling in your eyes unwillingly. “I wanna- I wanna go home, JJ,” you say, your voice lower than a whisper. 

JJ nods intently, “of course. I’ll take you, okay?” he asks for confirmation. 

You simply nod, slinging your arm around his neck. JJ keeps his arm tightly around your waist as he guides you down the stairs and toward the front door. He practically carries you all the way out to the Twinkie, and he helps you into the passengers seat. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just gotta get the keys,” he says, giving your leg a gentle squeeze. 

You nod lazily, your eyes squeezed shut and your head against the headrest. 

JJ comes back a few minutes later, keys in hand. “I’m sure John B won’t mind staying the night there,” he mumbled as he slides into the drivers seat. He glances over at you, “you still doing alright?” 

“Mhm,” you hum softly, eyes opening to meet his, “thank you.” 

JJ smiles a little, the look in his eyes still filled with worry, “let’s get you home.” 

You nod, shutting your eyes again in attempt to stop the headache you can already feel creeping in. On the drive home, you go over the events that just took place in your head; what you remember of them, anyways. 

Your hand traces over the red mark on your arm, and you can practically still feel Jackson’s hand wrapped tightly around it. Along with that, the ache in your stomach came back, the terrified feeling that you’d had had you were pulled up the stairs; as with every step, you lost a little more of your free will. 

You hadn’t realized that your breathing had become deeper-more scattered, until JJ’s hand was on you, just above your knee. “Hey,” he said softly, lightly shaking your leg. “Are you okay?” 

You let out a shaky breath, placing your hand over his and squeezing tightly. “Yeah, yeah I think so,” you breathe out, looking out the window and only then realizing that’d you’d made it home. 

JJ’s eyes stay on you, rapidly searching your eyes to see if you were telling the truth. The look he finds in your eyes is the same one he could see from all away across the room at the party: scared. “Let’s go inside, okay?” he says softly, the look on your face making his heart clench. 

You nod slowly, moving to open the door. “I got it, I got it, I got it,” JJ said quickly, jumping out of the Twinkie and running to open your door for you. 

You let out a laugh for the first time of the night, your chest feeling a little less heavy as JJ scooped you up in his arms and carried you all the way to your bedroom. 

JJ grabs you some comfier clothes, after being told which drawers to look through. He helps you take your makeup off, and run a brush through your hair so it won’t be tangled in the morning. 

By the end of your long routine, the effect of the alcohol is wearing off slightly, and now you just feel sick. And oh-so tired. “M’gonna sleep now,” you say with a yawn, lying yourself down on your bed under the covers that JJ had moved over for you. 

JJ nods with a small smile, looking over you one more time. “I’ll head out, then. Anything else you need?” 

Your heart clenches at the thought of being alone, “could you-” you take a breath, “could you stay, maybe? Just until I fall asleep.” 

JJ’s eyes soften, instantly nodding. “Course,” he says simply, kicking his shoes of and lying on the bed next to you, on top of the covers. 

You try to sleep, you really do. But your thoughts keep you wide awake. You replay the events of the night in your head, over and over again. And no matter how many times you do, you can’t get over how lucky you were that JJ was there. 

“Hey, JJ?” you ask softly, unable to stop yourself as the thoughts in your still slightly drunken mind became too hard to ignore.

“Yeah?” 

“Do you ever feel like..” you pause for a moment, searching for the right words. “Like there’s something that pulls us together? Like me and you?” 

JJ’s body shifts toward you at your words, “what do you mean?” 

You take in a breath, “I dunno, like-” you shift on the bed, body now facing him. “Remember when we first met? On my first day of 4th grade?” He nods. “I was so petrified of starting at a new school. I was positive that it was going to be the worst experience of my life. But then, Zoe Lambert happened to be sick that day, and I just happened to have to sit in that seat next to you. And something about you, JJ, I don’t know what it was, but it made me feel like maybe everything would be okay. It was like meeting you in that moment was exactly what I needed,” you spoke softly, not meeting his eyes. His silent intrigue made you go on, “Then at the 7th grade Halloween Dance. Jackson Brantley stood me up, and I was devastated. Sitting on the bleachers, all alone in my Jessie costume, I was fully ready to leave the dance and go cry myself to sleep. But then, I saw you who just happened to be dressed in a Woody costume. What was about to go down as my most embarrassing night, turned into one of the most fun nights I’ve ever had. Just because you happened to be there in the other half of my couples costume. And then…tonight,” you finally looked up to meet his eyes, which were already looking at you intently. “JJ, I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there,” you were whispering now, not trusting your own voice. 

“But I was,” he says softly, hand reaching out to the side of your face. “Nothing happened, okay? You’re safe,” he reassures, eyes scanning yours rapidly. 

You offer him a small smile, “I know,” you say, bringing your hand up to tighten around his. “Because you just happened to be there,” you add. 

JJ smiles a little, mind going back to what you were saying before. 

something pulling you together 

“I never realized how weird it was, the ways we’ve run into each other over the years. It’s almost like-” he starts, only stopping when his eyes came back to yours. 

“Like what?” you breathe out, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Fate?” he offers, a questioning tone of his voice. 

“Fate,” you repeat softly, a smile playing at your lips as you think about it. “That must be it,” you come to the conclusion aloud. 

You let out a breath, relieved that you’ve finally spoken to JJ about the thought that’s been poking at the back of your mind for years now. 

Your previous exhaustion comes back to you quickly, and before you can stop yourself, you lay your head on JJ’s chest. You feel JJ’s fingers comb through your hair, his steady breath hitting your forehead.

Before you drift to sleep, your last lazy thought slips out of your mouth, “kinda like an invisible little string.” 

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Your Stardew valley match up is…

SEBASTIAN <3

Sfw

How you met: You were the new farmer in town and you were looking to make friends. Sam had invited you to his, Abigail and Sebastian’s weekly game night, joking that you reminded him too much of Seb. You agreed to come and although initially a bit quiet and reserved, once you all started playing games and cracked open a few cold ones, the inner sailor came out. Eventually, you were cussing out the gaming console with enthusiasm, dissolving the rest of the gang into a fit of giggles with your colourful and inventive curses. Even the usually sour-faced Sebastian was hiding a smile. As the evening went on, you grew more comfortable and when everyone was resting after an intense board game session, you decided to play some of your favourite horror fiction podcasts. You could see Sam was the one who was getting the most scared, jumping at every small sound while Sebastian simply listened intently. You offered to turn the podcast off but Sam refused, and after a while declared that he needed to use the restroom but was too afraid to go alone. After giggling and teasing him for an appropriate amount of time, Abigail agreed to take him. You and Sebastian were left alone, lounging on beanbags, nursing the dregs of your fourth beer that evening. The podcast still played in the background, but Sebastian’s attention was directed towards you. He eyed you carefully, before asking, “Will you play the triangle in our band?” You blurted out a laugh at the abruptness of the question and Sebastian’s cheeks took on the faintest blush. “You don’t have to, of course. It just would be nice to spend more time together,” he explained sheepishly. Your brown eyes crinkled in amusement, and you agreed, clinking together your near-empty beer cans, a toast to your new life in the Valley.

It’s great that you love autumn since that’s the only season where Sebastian actually leaves the vicinity of his house and walks around the town. You both can enjoy each other’s company and watch the orange and yellow-leaved trees dance in the wind together. Seb would be completely chill if you wanted to head back early during your adventures for a nap as well.

Seb is a night owl just like you. Being a programmer he often works odd hours or he’ll just spend the night gaming. So you’ll always have someone to spend time with at midnight. If you’re asleep while he’s awake Seb looks at you completely lovestruck and gives you a kiss on the cheek before going back to whatever he was doing.

Since Pelican Town’s movie theatre has a small selection of movies he is more so accustomed to enjoying thrillers and mystery movies. If you guys manage to order movies from Zuzu City or even go there he’d be willing to give horror movies a shot. Super unlikely that he’ll get scared. As long as it has an interesting plot he’ll enjoy it. 

Seb would often find you bundled up in his hoodies. He finds it super endearing and it gives him a deep sense of satisfaction to see you wrapped up in his belongings. 

You love Halloween and he loves pumpkin soup. In October, your house would be littered with pumpkins, which you gore and carve with delight and he makes pumpkin soup from the remains. It is a beautiful domestic scene.

Seb would often take you on long motorcycle rides in the night. He likes the warmth of your body on his back as he drives into the chilly night air. 

Seb would teasingly open your messy bun and twirl the hairband around his finger nonchalantly. He likes teasing you, watching your hair just fall down and frame your face.

He would give back hugs and neck kisses, and Seb’s embrace would be super warm and cosy, especially in the fall. Cuddling in oversized sweaters on the couch would be the go-to.

Seb would organise surprise dates out of nowhere to show that he appreciates you. Being a homebody, he would order food from outside, and set up fairy lights and a cosy blanket on the couch.

your goths,

admins sar, san & sav