#i could yap more about this but once i start i can’t stop so i won’t. but yea it would be based on the lyrics lol

[mxltifxnd0m]

meddle about ── . ✶ s. winchester

summary: you have a date night with sam and he gets tipsy (and horny)

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', porn with very little plot, fluff, mentions of drinking, tipsy reader and sam, smut, oral fem! receiving, unprotected p in v sex, a sprinkle of a praise kink, aftercare, title is a chase atlantic song of the same name, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 1.7K a/n: i just need to have tipsy sex with sam RN, this was inspired by an ask blondie (@ohsc ugh i miss them dearly T-T) sent me a while back but i was reminded of it recently and decided that i needed to write it. lowkey sped run writing this bc intended it to be a blurb but i love to yap so enjoy the one shot! sam winchester masterlist

SAM USUALLY DOESN’T drink a lot, preferring to stay level-headed and coherent enough to watch out for you and Dean when the three of you go out. There are times when he indulges himself after a successful hunt and gets tipsy, but he is usually sobered up by the end of the night. 

Tonight was different though; the two of you had a date night, which was far and in between considering how often the three of you went out on hunts across the country. But lately, monster appearances were scarce, and other hunters were sent to take care of them. But you were starting to get stir-crazy within the bunker. So Sam took the two of you out on a nice dinner date, having gotten a reservation at one of the nicer restaurants in Lebanon.  

The both of you indulged in the drinks that the restaurant was serving, having copious amounts of wine—which always managed to make Sam a giggly and a happy drunk, his cheeks flushed and a dopey smile on his face. 

You were the one who drove back to the bunker since instead of having one last glass like Sam did, you had some water instead, sobering you up quite a bit. You were glad to see that Sam was letting loose for once and that the tension that he always held in his shoulders had dissipated. But once you got back to the bunker, Sam clung onto you and peppered kisses on your face and neck, stopping the two of you from heading to your room by pinning you against the cool walls of the bunker and pulling you into multiple small makeout sessions. 

You laughed against his lips at his sloppy kisses—they were usually more coordinated and precise. But tipsy Sam was eager and uncaring, but his kisses never lacked passion, whether it was a slow and sweet kiss or a lustful and dirty kiss. 

You managed to finally make it to your shared room with your boyfriend. You weren’t as tipsy as Sam, but you had a pleasant buzz thrumming through you, and you could feel that your face was flush with warmth (or it might have been from how Sam cupped your face in his hands as he pushed you against the wall and kissed you). 

Sam’s hands were on your hips and backing you up until you fell on the soft sheets of the bed. He all but collapsed on top of you, catching himself before he could hurt you with his broad frame. You let out a small laugh, Sam smiling widely at the sound, and you saw the amusement and desire shine in his hazel gaze as he looked down at you. 

“What?” You asked with a smile on your face as you cocked your head to the side slightly as you looked up at the man hovering over you. 

One of his hands came up to caress your cheek. “You’re beautiful. Just can’t believe that you’re mine.” Sam’s words were slightly slurred, but his tone was filled with reverence and adoration. 

“M’all yours.” You said with a breathy smile. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you, his body slotting in between your open legs. “Love you Sammy.” 

“Love you too, honey.” Sam placed his lips against your slightly swollen ones, the feeling of love and desire washing over you as his soft lips moved against yours. He tasted like the sweet wine the two of you were drinking earlier and something you could only describe as distinctly Sam. 

The kiss slowly turned hotter and passionate, Sam’s tongue swiping at the seam of your lips before delving into it and sliding his tongue against yours in a sensual dance. Sam started to rut against you—his jean-covered bulge rubbing against your covered core sent sparks of pleasure through you, but it wasn’t enough, and he could tell. 

Sam broke the kiss, and you didn’t realize that you needed to breathe until you almost gasped for air. However, he was relentless with his kisses, trailing them down your jaw and neck. He nipped and sucked at your neck, marking you up as his hands went to the hem of the dress you were wearing for the date and started to lift it higher on your thighs. 

Sam made quick work of your dress, leaving you in only your underwear in front of him and let out a low groan at the sight of your bare chest. Before he could do anything, you sat up and tugged at the button-up shirt that was driving you crazy all night. It was a simple, crisp white button-up (no doubt from one of his fed getups), but the kicker was that he had rolled them up to the crook of his elbow, exposing the tanned skin of his forearms that never failed to make you salivate over them. You had a hard time focusing on him when all you wanted was to stare at his arms all night.

You managed to get all of the buttons undone before Sam’s hands landed on your shoulders and pushed you back on the bed, making a startled laugh escape your lips before it turned into a soft moan, feeling Sam nip at the smooth skin of your inner thighs as his hands trailed up your legs and thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his deft fingers found the hem of your soaked underwear. 

Sam’s eyes were honed in on the wet patch of your underwear before leaning in and pressing a sloppy kiss against it, making you jolt from the sudden contact before you heard a rip of fabric. You opened your mouth to chastise Sam for ruining another pair of underwear, but all that came out was a moan of his name as Sam’s dexterous tongue began to lave and lick at your weeping cunt. 

“Taste s’good, baby.” Sam’s words were mumbled into your skin, sending vibrations through you and adding to the already rising heat of pleasure running through you. 

Sam ate you out messily, uncaring of the slick covering his nose, lips, and chin as he drank in your arousal. Your hands were wound in his hair, pulling at it slightly and grinding into his face, chasing your high. 

You could feel sweat coat your body as Sam worked over your heated cunt. You came with a shout as pleasure shot through you and clenched around nothing as Sam kept his lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, sucking on it softly, working you through your orgasm. 

When you came to your senses and calmed down from your high, Sam was in the process of stripping off his jeans, his shirt long gone, and you stared at his bare torso. His sun-kissed skin was littered with scars, some big, some small, and the black ink of his tattoo stood out on his chest. 

“See something you like?” Sam teased as a sly smile grew on his face as he stroked his hard cock. 

You bit your bottom lip. “Yeah, you.” 

Sam let out a small chuckle before getting back on the bed, making you shift up to the pillows as Sam crawled up and over your body. 

There was still a haze over his eyes, but it mainly was lust rather than the haze of inebriation. Sam dipped his head down to kiss you deeply as his bare cock rutted against your slightly sensitive core. 

A groan left Sam’s lips as your tight cunt stretched around his cock. “Fuck, you’re so tight honey.” 

A whine escaped you at the feeling of Sam’s cock filling you up to the brim. The two of you panted into each other’s mouths; the feeling of one another was overwhelming—the air was buzzing with lust and thirst for one another. 

Another whine left you as Sam began to move slowly, pulling out until his tip was the only thing inside of you before pushing back in with a sharp thrust. From there, Sam started to pound into you with reckless abandon; his thrusts were unrelenting as he let his inhibitions run rampant—no longer clouded by rational thought. 

“You feel so good around me– fuck– such a good girl f’me.” Sam groaned out before pulling you into a kiss that was mostly teeth and tongue as he continued to fuck you into the mattress, the headboard thumping against the wall of your bedroom. 

A symphony of moans and groans filled the room alongside the sound of Sam’s skin hitting your flesh. You and Sam ran on your basic instincts and the urge to reach and fulfill your unrestrained desires for one another.

Both of you were unaware of how loud the two of you were being as Sam slammed into you. You were scratching at Sam’s back as his head was buried in the crook of your neck, biting and continuing his work of marking you up— red and purple bruises already blooming in the spots he had already nipped at. 

“My pretty girl, can’t get enough of you. So amazing. Love you so much baby.” Sam’s voice was thick with lust as he murmured praises in your skin and ear. 

He managed to wind one of his hands in between the two of you, Sam’s thumb swirling circles into your clit as he shifted his hips slightly and started to hit your g-spot with every thrust. 

“Gon-gonna cum.” You whined out feeling the heat in your core bloom brighter and hotter. 

“Yeah? Be a good girl and come around my cock.” Sam’s commanding tone made you clench harder around him, a low grunt coming from him as his hips stuttered slightly at the sensation of you wrapped tightly around him. 

Sam pressed down on your clit harder and you came with a sharp cry, your cunt contracting around his thick cock, triggering his own release as he shoved himself inside of you and let his cum fill you up even further.

The two of you stayed connected for a while as the two of you came down from your highs. Sam pulled out his softening cock, a whimper leaving your lips at the sensation of being empty. Sam made his way to the on-suite bathroom and used warm water to wet a hand towel. He quickly cleans you up and then himself up before maneuvering your tired and pliant body underneath the covers—tucking you into his side before falling asleep, uncaring of how he would probably wake up with a slight headache in the morning. 

[sejarcus-archive]

Modern Sejarcus au based on the lyrics of Good Luck, Babe!, in which they’re childhood friends who grew up in a homophobic small town, and though it came with a lot of pain, Sejanus was able to accept that he’s gay, but Marcus can’t bring himself to do the same and keeps living in denial, so when they eventually develop feelings for each other, all of this leads to a pretty toxic homoerotic situationship

[samubytheocean]

your little habits that flusters the Haikyuu boys

you think nothing of it- and he knows it. So why is he about to pass out?

teeth rotting fluff

might make it a series lmk

grabbing their sleeve

he walks you home. no questions asked. anywhere, anytime, no matter what weather. he mutters out “cuz i’m bored” or some other lame excuse and rolls his eyes whenever you tease him about him being your butler or smth

he’ll never admit, that those walks are the highlights of his days. listening to you blabbering any and every thought that comes up, occasionally grabbing your shoulders to stop you from tripping over or gathering up your hair that has fallen down to your face, yeah he loves all of it.

he’ll never admit, that you just look too pretty, yapping away your worries with your hands flying all over the place. so he only adds in quiet “oh yeah?”s and “no way”s to fuel your rants. he’s listening alright. he’ll ask you to follow up on the tea few days later.

so when you suddenly halt, eyes wide with a sweet, sweet gasp falling from your lips, he visibly flinches. is something there? are you in danger? does he have to carry you bridal and run home? he looks down, confused at your unusual quiet quivering lips.

he flinches when you tug his jersey down, towards the bush at the side of the road. yeah. no danger. just some neighborhood kittens lazing about in the sunset warmth.

your hands stay on the fabric, hands so small but the grip tight as you melt at the adorable sight. he stands up a little, gulping as he feels your touch warm against the cool cloth. the weight of your arm rests against his, and his fingertips tingle as they fall against your soft arms.

he tenses slightly, feeling the blush rise from his neck. was it the sunset? why was it suddenly so hot? you had the every option to hold him. his arm, his shoulders, hands, but the hem of his sleeve? why did your hands suddenly look so cute, gripping tightly as you gleamed innocently?

he looks away as he looks for his phone in the other side of the jacket, grumbling quietly about how he should take a photo of the sight. hopefully you can’t see how flustered this thoughtless touch has made him.

you saw. how could you miss the adorable blush all over his ears?

TSUKI, KENMA, SUNA (a little more enthusiastic about the tea bet) and SAKUSA

sticking & biting your tongue out

he hates it. more specifically, he hates the effect it has on him. a bit of him still doesn’t believe that it’s a absentminded habitual thing. seriously i bet he has asked you, politely and very shyly if you did it on purpose. once, and the confused face you gave him made him so red i swear. he started muttering nonsensical words until you nervously laughed. He just quietly rubbed the back of his neck (which was sweating so, so much)

i see a very clear picture. you guys are in the same class, and you’re so deep into the paper that you are writing, typing away something that has to be of equal relevance to the constitution or smth.

he can’t help but steal some glances at you. he has always admired how devoted you were to your assignments. both your passion and quality of the work motivated him to be a better person. not to mention how hopelessly pretty you looked, eyebrows scrunched up as your glossy lips mutter something. maybe you were choosing between your wording? maybe this was the chance to go over and very nonchalantly offer a fresh set of eyes?

that moment he shifts in his seat, his breathing stops. you open your mouth again, probably to mutter something out, but this time the tip of your glistening, pink tongue flicks out. he stops him his seat, awkwardly positioned, as his head furiously moves back to his laptop, heartbeat raging against his suddenly sweaty fingertips.

what the actual fuck? that must have been a mistake right? you must have just been trying to wet your lips or something. sure there’s nothing more of it.. but he can’t get the sight of the moment out of his head, you relaxing your pretty body for a second as you let out a little sigh, and that pink, glistening tongue sticking out from your plush lips. he feels a pang of guilt, so he quietly takes a shakey breath. there’s no more to it. cut it out. just go and talk to her!

yeah that didn’t go as planned, because when he looked back, the lightheadedness made him grip the edge of the table to stop himself from letting out a surprised sigh. the edge your tongue was caught between your teeth, peeking just out from your lips. your eyes squinting at the screen, just so focused on the work. he sank back to his chair, his eyes racing to look anywhere else.

there’s nothing more to it. he knows. you’re his best friend. he swears. but as he hears you mumble about how you can’t focus, he can’t help but think

how the pink fat would feel against his, and how desperate he is to help you relieve some stress

AKAASHI, KUROO (nerdy looser kuroo is the best kuroo), GOSHIKI, YAMAGUCHI, TANAKA (friends to lovers w him omg), AONE

this was so fun to write and i have so many more ideas about it? plz let me know if yall want more cuz i am more than willing to deliver 🫤🙌

[hysteria-things]

HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK

♛ ONE ° •

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓���𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)

idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!

the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.

currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.

“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”

you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.

matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.

“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”

he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.

“i love it.”

the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”

see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.

“nope.”

he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.

the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.

i want to see you after the show.

now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.

you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.

a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”

he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.

“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.

you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”

she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”

you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.

a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.

you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.

pinch me this can’t be real.

“hi,” he says lowly.

“hi,” you repeat back.

he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”

you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.

your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.

you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.

he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.

thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.

you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”

“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”

you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.

you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”

he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.

leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”

your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.

his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.

you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”

he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.

your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”

your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.

he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.

leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.

instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.

it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.

he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.

you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”

you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.

whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.

“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”

you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.

“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.

matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.

it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”

he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.

then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.

shit.

you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”

matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.

“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”

the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”

“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”

“are you okay?” she questions.

with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.

“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.

he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.

“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.

“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”

she sighs through the phone. “okay.”

you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.

he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”

spank.

“leaving your friend out there all alone.”

spank.

“so that you can fuck me.”

spank.

“like a slut.”

spank.

you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.

he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”

he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”

you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.

whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”

baby. you moan at the nickname.

you’re way past the point of ‘omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’

you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.

all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.

your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.

“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.

he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.

“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.

your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.

he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”

blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.

“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”

“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.

“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.

tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.

matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.

you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.

he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.

he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.

after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.

matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.

you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.

once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”

“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.

she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”

“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”

she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.

to my favorite fan,

xxx-xxx-xxxx

text me when you get the chance, gorgeous

- matt :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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[sharkikive]

match made in heaven (ken sato x fem!reader)

Summary: You were Professor Sato’s research assistant and your apartment just got destroyed by Ultraman.

Somehow, this led to a matchmaking project between you and the infamous baseball player, Ken Sato.

Word count: 6,887

A/N: I yap a lot when it comes to writing. Just writing this because the Ken Sato brainrot is too damn strong. Just a bunch of gibberish. Not my best but currently too hung up on Kenji. Includes mention of Professor Sato, Mina and Emi (definitely having baby fever because of her).

Ken Sato.

His name was a staple in your daily life, yet you had never met the man face to face.

The moment you thought you had escaped from hearing the broken recording of his name, it was brought up once again as the news of him returning to Japan plastered the news.

You rolled your eyes at the screen, but were careful enough not to let the old man hunched over the table, poring over some papers on Kaiju, see you.

Well, you could not exactly tell the father that you were tired of hearing his son’s name everywhere, could you?

“Professor Sato,” you started. “I shall take my leave for today.”

“Ah yes, sure. Please have a safe journey back home. I’m sorry this old man can’t send you back safely,” he replied, to which you quickly dismissed.

“Professor, I’ll be fine.” You chuckled lightly, “In case you have forgotten, I’m already 26. I’m already an adult. No longer the wide-eyed, 17-year-old you first took under your wing.”

He gave out a breathy laugh, sniffling as you knew what’s going to come out of his mouth next. You resisted the urge to stop him, purely out of respect.

“Kenji is the same age as you. I wish you could meet him, but that child is very stubborn. He wouldn’t even answer my calls, let alone meet me.” He paused, as if thinking of the next sentence, but went against it.

You only smiled weakly, the only response you’d always given when he mentioned his son’s name. You took this as a sign to leave before bowing and setting off to your apartment.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were tired of listening to that man’s name every single time. Yes, you knew that it was Professor Sato’s guilt that kept him talking about his son, but the more you heard about him, the more you found him less likeable.

He came back to Japan, yet he did not even contact his father even once? Yet Professor Sato would talk about him every day.

You knew nothing about baseball, and did not care to find out, but the appearance of Ken Sato forced you to learn that he’s apparently about to be the saviour for the Giants.

You sighed, stopping under the night sky as you watched people milling about the streets.

You were an ambitious girl who had a deep interest in Kaiju and without shame, Ultraman. Ultraman was the first hero you knew and grew up with, so imagine the elation you felt when you found out that Professor Sato was affiliated with both. He agreed to take you under his wing with the condition that you finished your degree, so the moment you had gotten your scroll you showed up in front of him, eager to start.

He probably couldn’t turn you away considering how you seemed… pitiful. Yup, that’s probably the word.

You enjoyed working as his research assistant, but found out soon enough that he was a lonely man who missed his wife and son dearly. He was a father figure to you, considering that you were orphaned at a young age.

It was a peaceful night.

Well, if you consider the scene of Neronga choking Ultraman as a peaceful night.

Correction: It was supposed to be a peaceful night.

You stepped back as the gigantic hero got slammed into another building, destroying yet another public property. You winced as it was obvious that the hero was not upholding the principles and seemed more like he was trying to destroy as much as he could.

The thing that irritated you the most? You knew exactly who it was under that suit.

You shook your head, not even bothering to see how the fight would go. You were 100% sure the KDF would be gunning down the Kaiju in no time.

You set off again, mildly hoping that your apartment did not get obliterated in the chaos, or you would definitely hunt that baseball player down.

It was hard to ignore the fight when two giants were stomping around the city, and you dropped dramatically on your knees when you saw Ultraman being launched in the direction of your building.

“No-” you weakly said, knowing that your voice was merely a speck of hopelessness among the gasps of the crowd, Ultraman’s groan and Neronga’s roar. From behind your glasses, a tear rolled down your face as you saw your apartment building crumbling, all thanks to that stupid, cocky, asshole of a baseball player.

Now thanks to Professor Sato’s beloved son, you were homeless.

***

Maybe it was your lack of sleep from worrying about how the progress of rebuilding your house went, because you were dragged by Professor Sato at 2 in the morning to the secret base, facing a scene that you promptly found ridiculous.

Right, seeing the giant hero hunched over in front of you was no surprise because you knew exactly who it was. A little bit weird how he’s here considering his relationship with his father, but that wouldn’t be an issue.

But what was an issue was that the said giant was cradling an equally gigantic pink baby Kaiju and was- you took a step back.

Something must had happened because Ken Sato was crying in front of you. Not the scene you’d expect in the morning while being sleep-deprived.

Your mind was only registering the words ‘injured’, ‘need help’ and the rest was a blur as Professor Sato helped in correcting the fracture in the Kaiju’s arm. The Kaiju was calmed down, brought to sleep and you could not help but smile at the sleeping baby.

Part of the reason you were still there was because you found the baby Kaiju so adorable with her chubby cheeks and twitterings.

Another part was because you were curious to see (discreetly, of course, under the pretext of looking over the Kaiju) the dynamic between Ultradad and well, the son. You were facing the Kaiju but you were straining your ears to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Doing this-“ you picked up a sentence, -“doesn’t suddenly make you Ultradad.”

You felt slightly perturbed. Kenji came in here pleading while crying, Professor Sato helped him without any questions yet the son was barely grateful for it.

But you knew you’re no one to be meddling in their family affairs.

So you kept quiet, straining your ears with Mina - the robot - hovering nearby.

Your mind wandered to whether it would be plausible for you to chip in a request for Ken Sato’s autograph and sell it high to make up for the costs of your destroyed apartment.

That’s the least he could do after reducing your safe space into rubble.

You snapped back to the present as you heard your name being called, and was greeted with the sight of a smiling father and a son looking like he’d love to be anywhere but here.

Ken Sato was not smiling, but he didn’t look like he hated you either.

The next thing you knew was that you were left alone with Ken, and you couldn’t help but think Professor Sato had a hidden agenda because he left with a chuckle. Even Mina was nowhere in sight.

What could I possibly say to this man I’ve never met before?

The young man in front of you looked starkly different from the confident, boastful man you had seen in interviews. Instead, he seemed more like a sad excuse who looked so distraught you swore you could see him shrinking.

“So uh-” he started, scratching his head with an awkward smile. “Y/N… right?”

Your eyebrows lifted at the mention of your name.

“Dad told me about your apartment.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

You clicked your tongue. “Other than the fact that I became homeless, it’s no issue.”

You did not intend it to be a joke, but it seemed that the only immediate response he could give was to laugh awkwardly, before he buried his face in his hands. “God- I’m so- sorry.” He pried his fingers slightly to look at you, before continuing. “I came back to Japan because dad wanted me to continue this- I don’t know what you call this. Legacy?”

Your eyes trailed his movements; you got slightly startled as he suddenly sprang up and you pushed back your glasses.

“High hopes from everyone ever since I started playing for the Giants, dad wanting me to become Ultraman and-“ he sighed exasperatedly, “it was too much.”

You rubbed the tip of your nose before shrugging. “Well, you did seem confident while you were on TV. If you ask me, you gave them that confidence.”

He left his mouth slightly hanging open as he didn’t expect you to give it to him straight.

You continued, “Ultraman is a hero for some, if not all. Some of them may not care. But all,” your eyes collided with his as he plopped back down onto the sofa, “don’t know who is under that suit. All they know is Ultraman is supposed to be the hero protecting the city with-“ you pressed your lips into a thin line, “-minimal damage.”

He blinked. Did he look like he wanted to cry again?

The corner of your lips lifted up slightly, but you quickly switched it off as he looked at you imploringly.

You raised your hands shoulder-level, hiding a yawn before managing. “Don’t expect me to become your counsellor, but what I’m saying is, when you’re Ken Sato, the baseball player, of course they’d expect you to play well. When you’re Ultraman, people expect you to be the hero.” You interlinked your fingers. “They don’t see you becoming both at the same time. And now, you added another point to your resume. You became a single dad.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. He sucked in his lower lip and for the first time ever you thought that maybe Professor Sato’s son wasn’t that bad at all, both personality and lookwise.

“I can’t comment much about what you feel about your father. I won’t deny that my opinion on you was formed only based on what I saw, but I now know that you must have had a reason why you acted that way to your father.” You shrugged. “I saw a lonely father and a distant son. Because I spent almost all of my time with Professor Sato, please trust me, he talks about you every single day.” You spread your arms, “Your father talked about you, the TV was blaring news about you 24/7 and I was exhausted hearing your name all the time.”

He didn’t seem offended, but was merely focusing on the one sentence. “My father talks about me every day?”

”Every day,” you breathed. “You and your mother.” You smiled, “He never stopped thinking about both of you.”

”Huh.” It seemed like he didn’t know how to react.

This time, you couldn’t help but yawn so you got up quickly, intending to leave the base. If the conversation wasn’t finishing, you were sure you were about to finish it. Your eyelids couldn’t hold much longer.

It was nice having a talk with this infamous baseball player and it sure did change your perspective of him.

He looked on, confused, as you gave a slight nod before heading towards the exit.

”Hey-“ he started, doing a slight jog to catch up to you, who was almost asleep standing up. He gently grabbed the strap of your sling bag, and you snapped your eyes open. He retracted his hand, citing, “Sorry. But where do you think you’re going?”

It was your turn to look confused. “Home?” You said it as a question rather than a statement. “Wait,” you tracked back, “not home. My temporary home at the inn down the road because,” you giggled, clearly drunk from the lack of sleep, “Ultraman destroyed my home.”

”And because Ultraman destroyed your home, you’re staying with me,” he said smoothly, slightly nudging your back with his shoulder. Clearly he struggled as you were much shorter than him.

”With you?” You had no idea where the idea was going yet so you shook your head. “Why would I want to stay with you?”

He took a step back and tugged at the strap of your sling back, essentially dragging you with him. “Don’t misunderstand. Dad’s staying with me as well, we have Mina and you’re joining me because we need to train her.”

”Wait, wait, wait.” You slapped a hand on his shoulder, but he was still holding on strong to the strap. “We? Her? What are we even talking about?”

You were clearly guided by him as you found yourself standing underneath his gaze in front of the Kaiju’s enclosure.

”We as in you, me, dad and Mina.” He nodded, looking satisfied. “Her as in this baby.” He did a show of hands towards the sleeping Kaiju.

You grimaced. “Sir, I did say that my perspective on you has changed, but that doesn’t mean you’re dragging me with you.”

”You’re my dad’s research assistant, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Yes…” You didn’t like where this is going.

”You don’t have a house… yet.”

”Yes…”

You took a step back, and what you could describe him now was as a puppy as he imitated your actions. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he leaned down to level his eyes with yours before saying, “Your boss is here, and you currently have no home to go back to. So why not? Take it as me being sorry for destroying your house as well. Deal?” He put out his hand to give you a shake.

You laughed nervously. “And what is it in for me…?”

”You… get to live in the same house as Ken Sato?”

”Nice, yay,” you said flatly. You rolled your eyes. “No.”

“Oh come on,” he groaned. “I feel bad.”

”There’s no need for you to feel bad, okay. I put that behind me, whatever.” You threw your hands in the air. “I’m going, bye.” You turned around, ready to leave.

”I’ll give you my autograph, as many as you’d like,” he quickly chipped in. “Signed possession, whatever you want.” He grinned in satisfaction as he saw you stop in your tracks and you quickly turned around. “It sells. A lot.”

”Hmm…” You seemed to consider it before you shook your head. “Your reputation lately isn’t the best so to sell them might be a bit hard…” You trailed off, clearly more of an effort to swat him away since you did think about it.

You couldn’t deny, it was a nice offer. But you were more worried about how you would cope, considering that you may have found him slightly attractive…

“I’m sure dad would be happy for you to stay here as well?”

You gritted your teeth. First time meeting him in real life and he already knew your weakness. He knew that using his father’s name would cause you to waver.

Still, you held on to your decision.

“No-”

He blinked slowly, and you heard the baby Kaiju stir in her sleep.

You ran your eyes towards the Kaiju before sighing. There was one thing you were interested in.

No, not the man in front of you.

You walked over to the enclosure. “How is she with strangers?”

Kenji popped up beside you before winking. “If I say the stranger is a friend, you’ll be glad to have her around.”

You took a moment to think, weighing the pros and cons. “Full privacy? Separate bathrooms?”

He scratched the nape of his neck. “Well, there is one separate bathroom for the guests but the shower’s faulty.” Something dawned on his face as he just realised this. “The only working shower is in, uh, my room.”

You stared back at him. “So there is a chance I might run into you naked?”

“I’ll preserve my dignity.” He paused. “You know what, take my room. I can use the guest room.”

You chuckled, taking his hand in a forced handshake. “Fine, deal.”

He looked surprised, but trailed after you as both of you took the ride up. “Wait, what was the dealbreaker? Because of the Kaiju? The room? The-” he looked at you almost accusingly. “-chance of seeing the Ken Sato naked-”

“Shh-” you clamped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence him just as the entrance pried open, revealing a smiling Professor Sato.

“Dad,” Ken said in a muffled voice, and you pulled back from covering his mouth. “Dad,” he tried again. “She agreed to staying here.”

You looked at the professor from the corner of your eyes. So it was his doing. You wondered what the father had held over his son’s head to make him obey.

“Can I retire for the night?” You did an exaggerated show of stretching. “I’m becoming delirious from the lack of sleep.”

“Room’s to your right,” Ken offered.

“Make sure to lock the door,” Mina reminded you.

“Mina,” Ken groaned. “What are you implying?”

“Just general safety measures. Ken-” she hovered near the baseball player, “-are you okay? Your heartbeat is increasing-”

He groaned. “I’m fine, Mina. I’ll be using the guest room.”

Both of you went separate ways, leaving Professor Sato and Mina in the living room.

Professor Sato whispered, “Mina, status report on the project.”

Mina obediently replied, “Matchmaking project is showing positive progress. We can expect to see rapid progress in the next few weeks.”

***

Training and taking care of the baby Kaiju - which the professor had named Emi - was no easy feat. Contributed by your almost non-existent stamina, you were left cheering from the sides as mostly Ken and Emi did all kinds of simulation to train her. Dealing with a 20-feet monster was not on your bucket list, but you had proudly ticked it off mentally.

You heard whooping from the two and you held onto your bottle as the ground shook when Emi jumped up and down. Subconsciously, you smiled as you saw Ken cheering for the baby, and he almost got crushed when Emi gave his human form a high-five.

You quietly went up the lift as Ken was fussing over Emi to make her go to sleep. You plopped down on the sofa, switched on the TV and to no surprise, his name decorated the evening news.

Ken Sato showing good progress…

Ken Sato showing a more mature side…

Ken Sato helping the Giants to pick themselves back up…

“I definitely look better in person,” Ken’s voice came from behind and you could feel his presence near you. “May I?” He asked for permission to sit beside you but both of you knew the answer as he plopped down right next to you.

You see, these are the small things that could make you wonder whether he’s doing it on purpose or he really had no idea how they affected you.

You gulped when you could feel his knee bumping against yours, or when he casually put his arm on the back of the sofa across your shoulders. There was no contact but there might as well be something because you felt like your heart would jump right out.

Your romantic encounter with a guy was only as far as a guy who called you a creep because you were following him. That day, you were navigating the world half-blind because you broke your glasses and it seemed that he was going to your destination. Sure, you admitted that it was your fault and you apologised profusely, but that made you avoid taking the train for at least two weeks.

You got startled when Ken pressed a cold can on your cheek. The corner of your eyes caught the words ‘COCONUT WATER’. Remembering how Mina had essentially pestered Ken to drink coconut water as a ‘healthy option’, you smiled. Mina had also reminded Ken multiple times that because you didn’t drink, never, ever offer you a can of beer.

”Nah,” you refuted. “You look better on screen.” You imitated taking a camera shot of his face before chiding. “Up near you’re just…” You trailed off.

”Just what?” He asked, prying open his can of coconut water. Without asking, he took yours before helping to open it up for you.

This. These small gestures were what convinced you that you were turning crazy.

”Ugly,” you supplemented.

”Hey, play nice,” he tapped the opened can on your cheek before shoving it into your hand.

You chuckled, taking a gulp of the drink before both of you basked in silence. To him, it was a comfortable silence but to you, you were currently hoping that your heartbeat would just… stop.

You thought that maybe spending time and living together with Ken Sato would further confirm that you hated his guts, but so far, you were only getting the opposite effect. You were sure there was some character development somewhere… from that first moment he destroyed your house to that moment you met him again as he was cradling Emi.

You hated this growing feeling you had towards him and it’s so painfully obvious what Professor Sato (and Mina) were planning on doing to both of you.

The worst part was it seemed like it’s either: 1. Ken was too oblivious, or 2. He knew, but didn’t want to entertain the thought.

Was it a better idea to just leave? They did say your house would be finished being rebuilt in a few days.

”So…” you croaked. “My house will be done in a few days so I think it’s better for me to start packing.” You stole a glance at him. Now… Why am I hoping that he would stop me?

A flicker of disappointment behind his eyes but he was quick to switch it off. “Sure,” he rubbed his nose. “If… that’s what you want.”

You pursed your lips. This stupid erratic heartbeat wouldn’t stop and you hated that you didn’t know what to do with it. “I’ll… start packing then.” You took another peek at him. He wasn’t looking at you.

You stood up, but he stopped you. Your heart was making its way out of your ribcage for beating too loud, but it slowed down when he uttered, “Hey, don’t forget your coconut water."

You looked at him with an ‘Are you serious?’ look before taking it, not once unlocking your stare from his and standing up, finished the drink in one gulp. You crushed the can, and threw it in one shot towards the dustbin.

”Oh, okay.” He looked surprised by your reaction.

You stalked your way to the bedroom and closed the door. Sighing exasperatedly, you pressed your back against the door and slid down. You buried your face in your hands before lightly hitting your head with a fist. You felt bad for reacting that way but you found it harder to deny the feeling when you were so confident that you would manage to resist.

Outside in the living area, Ken looked troubled, his forehead wrinkling when he tried backtracking what he did. He turned to look over his shoulder as the spherical robot hovered near him, and he threw his head back.

”What is it, Mina? Are you here to chide me again?”

”In these kinds of situations, the woman is usually hoping the man would stop her from leaving,” Mina said.

”Mina,” he pleaded.

”I believe a misunderstanding had happened,” she offered again, to which he appeared confused. “Please, do look at the screen.”

Ken’s eyes travelled to the projection Mina made. He looked even more confused as one of his solo interviews was displayed. He looked inquiringly at Mina, before the latter sweeped her robotic hands to ask him to focus on the interview.

It was an interview he did some time last week. His face changed when he started catching on what Mina was trying to show.

“So your name has become the talk of the town again for a good reason now.” The interviewer paused for effect. “This is a question that I’m sure everyone has thought of at least once when we’re talking about Ken Sato.” The interviewer looked at him. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in or at least, someone you have set your eyes on?”

Ken’s response was immediate as he laughed and shook his head. “No, no. Not right now.” He leaned back, a relaxed stance as he waved his hand in front of his face. “Right now I’m only focusing on my baseball career. Still got a long way to go. I don’t want to waste my time on something so unimportant.”

The interviewer turned back to the screen. “You’ve heard it directly from the man, folks. He’s-“

Mina switched off the replay while Ken looked regretful.

Exasperated, he said, “Mina, you know I don’t mean it that way.”

“I believe you should be clarifying that with Y/N herself and not me. She is the subject of your affection.”

“Affection-” he mulled over the word. “Do you really think so, Mina? Is this what this…” He put a hand over his chest. “Foreign feeling is?”

“From my observation,” Mina replied as she stayed close to Ken’s shoulder. “Your expression becomes livelier, your smile becomes wider and your eyes twinkle more whenever she is around. Now,” she paused, “you do have that same reaction whenever you’re with Emi. However, I do sense your heartbeat increasing every time you’re with Y/N. I believe this is what they would call a romantic attraction.”

“So in short,” he sighed, “I like her but I’m saying the opposite thing? But-” he almost grabbed Mina to ask her more, “how would I know if she feels the same way? I- I don’t think I can handle rejection from her. Do you sense anything from her?”

There was a silence as Mina backed up, making way towards her room. “I believe that is not a question for me to answer, Ken. Why don’t you sort it out with her?”

Ken looked at the door of the room you’re in, gathering the courage to make his way. He stopped in front of the door, he shook his hands, breathing in and out as his mind reeled with all sorts of apologies and words to offer to you.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, and at the same time you swung open the door, causing him to knock a fist on your forehead.

So much for Ultraman reflexes.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Ken shouted, automatically cupping your face to see the damage he’d done. “Are you- are you okay?”

You blinked, everything happening at once too much for you. He knocked on your door, you happened to open it at the same time and now he’s-

“I’m… fine. Can you…” you tapped your palm on his hand. “...let go?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he let go as he laughed nervously. “Reflexes fail you at times like these, right?” His face fell as he saw you avoiding his gaze. “Hey. Can we talk?”

You looked up, finally looking at him. “Yeah?”

He exhaled. “Like, properly.”

“Have we not been communicating properly?”

Mina suddenly appeared beside both of you. “I apologise for having to interrupt but yes, I do observe some miscommunication going on. So if both of you may sort it out.”

Mina’s hands pushed both of you into the room and shut the door.

There were protests from both but they quickly died down before silence stretched. Both of you exchanged glances but not words, and neither had any idea what the other was thinking of.

All the apologies and words Ken was thinking of offering to you went up in a cloud of smoke. Instead, he asked the one thing he wished he could take back. “So when are you planning to leave?” Dang it, Ken.

Your face contorted, obviously offended. “As soon as I can. Don’t worry,” you walked over to the bed, shoved your clothes into your duffel bag and zipped it up. “I wanted to tell you that I finished packing.”

”You’re leaving tonight?” This time around, he didn’t hide his disappointment. Why, why is it so hard for him to ask you to stay? To tell you what he really feels?

Sure, he couldn’t deny that his attitude came from growing up mostly without his father around. He had grown up with this wall built around him as a defensive mechanism. He found it hard to communicate with others, to explain what he really was feeling.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. He figured it was best to let the feeling die down. You’d be better off with someone else anyway.

”Just tell me when you want to leave,” he finally uttered. “I’ll open the door for you.”

You gritted your teeth and only nodded.

He turned around and shut the door. Mina and his father were outside, the latter having a worried look on his face.

”Kenji,” Professor Sato uttered.

”I want to be alone, dad,” he mentioned. “Mina,” he turned to the supercomputer, “just make sure she gets to where she wants to go safely.”

As Ken shut the door, Professor Sato turned to Mina, to which he uttered, “I trust this is not the time to ask about the progress.”

Mina answered. “Yes, Professor. I believe we may have hit a wall.”

***

You decided to leave early in the morning and with only a note, saying that you’d like to have some time off. Mina was kind enough to open the door for you, but when she asked whether you’d like to have Ken and Professor Sato see you off, you shook your head vigorously.

”Mina, tell them I’m going somewhere nice for a vacation.” You winked, but it was obvious that you were trying to hide something from breaking. “They better not look for me.”

Mina paused, as if she’s using her electronic brain to figure a way to stop you. “Kenji has a reason for acting that way.” A pause. “Though I am merely a robot with little to no experience in romantic relationships.”

You chuckled. “Thank you, Mina. Really, all of you were so kind to me. It’s just that,” you sighed, “I understand why he’d act that way. He has a whole career to look forward to. Adoring fans. He can’t be wasting-“ you gulped, the words bitter on your mouth, “-time on something so insignificant. I shall take my leave.”

”Y/N,” she uttered. “If I may ask one last question before you leave?”

You tilted your head. “Sure, Mina. What is it?”

“Were my calculations wrong about what you’re feeling?”

”And that is?”

”You hated him at first, but that hate has turned into something more… lovely."

You couldn’t help but smile. “It’s so obvious isn’t it?” You crinkled your nose. “I better take my leave before the three of them wake up.”

That was the last you saw all four of them - Professor Sato, Ken, Mina and Emi. That was what… a week ago?

Now you’re sitting, slumped in your bean bag as you groaned, bored out of your mind. Nice vacation, my ass. If that means reading the same books over and over again, surfing the web and watching the same TV shows while being cooped up in your house, you’re definitely having a nice vacation.

Even then, you found it hard to avoid that person. He was literally everywhere.

You switched off the TV, stretched, before something gigantic shook the whole city. Your eyes went wide as you realised that there was a possibility of another attack. Without much thought, you pushed up your glasses and took a glance through your apartment window.

There they are.

You saw both Ultraman and Emi traversing the landscape. You turned around to leave your apartment, but stopped as you heard sharp chirpings.

Emi was hovering near your window and you laughed, amazed at the sight in front of you. “Emi, you grew wings! You can fly now!”

The baby Kaiju smiled at you, seemingly proud that she could finally set off from the ground.

”Emi, come on.” You heard the one voice that could shatter your resolve then and there.

You tried to close the window, had enough, but the hero stopped you from shutting the window.

“Ow,” he complained, flapping his hand. Ken quickly stopped you from leaving as he said, “Look, I’ve been a jerk and-“ a loud boom resonated through the whole city, “-I want to start over.”

You sucked in your lower lip, mulling over his sentence. You lifted up your eyebrows as if to say, ‘Really, right now?’

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I like you, okay? But I didn’t know how to say it. Or maybe I was just afraid of rejection.”

You tried to keep a straight face but failed; you didn’t expect to hear a confession from Ultraman. You cleared your throat as you looked away. “Become a hero, save the day and then say all of that again,” your voice dropped to a whisper, as if anyone could hear you, “as Ken Sato.”

You’re not sure whether it was possible, but his eyes lit up brighter as he nodded. He started a light jog to launch himself before shouting, “Wait for me!” He disappeared in a twinkle in the night sky.

With your best guess, you assumed the fight must be going on between them and the KDF. Knowing that you’d be anxious waiting to see the results of the fight, you grabbed your jacket, set off into the night and tried searching a vantage point where you’d be able to at least get a view of what’s happening.

You found a spot and narrowed your eyes as you tried to get an idea of where the two of them stood. Emi… Ultraman… Is that Gigantron?

You became confused as you remembered clearly Professor Sato claiming that the most magnificent creature on Earth had died. What the hell is going on?

You gripped the railing of the bridge you were on, the fight getting further and further away from you. You watched the fight unfold… breath battered as you were silently cheering them on. You gasped as another figure launched himself into the fight.

”Professor,” you muttered to yourself. “Please, please be safe.”

The fight was a distant chaos, you could barely see what was going on. You gritted your teeth as you waited for the final call, but dropped to your knees as you realised what was going on.

”No, no, no. Ken…"

You saw the shield. Ken underneath the shield, the explosion that should have been loud, but was muffled inside the enclosure Ken had made before blinding light filled the atmosphere.

Tears filled up your vision as you saw the giant hero collapse into the sea.

***

You stared blankly at the unmoving body in front of you, while another person was strategically standing near the exit. You looked over your shoulder as you felt a light, reassuring tap.

Professor Sato wanted to offer some words of reassurance, but you merely shook your head. He let out a heavy breath, saying, “I’ll leave the two of you alone. I'll continue working on restoring Mina.”

”Thanks,” you sniffled. “Professor.”

Apparently on the day the fight happened, Mina was caught in the frenzy and was almost shut down, while the secret base was partially destroyed. Now the Professor was working on recovering Mina, while Ken…

You sighed, looking at the patient in front of you.

Nothing to worry about, actually. Despite the quick thinking of Ultraman in front of you throwing himself over the bomb, he actually managed to escape with just a broken arm. He’s not dead, Ken Sato was still here, recovering.

But what annoyed you was that it seemed every time you came to visit, he would pretend to be asleep. Not even stirring, obviously faking sleep to avoid talking to you.

So what, all that confession was for naught? Just an adrenaline rush from becoming the hero?

This time around though, it did seem like he was fast asleep. His chest was rising and falling steadily. His hair was messy, and you resisted the urge to tidy it up.

”You jerk,” you grumbled. “I was so worried for you, but… you’re really planning on leaving me hanging like this?”

”Y/N…”

You stopped grumbling to yourself as you heard the man in front of you mumbling your name. You leaned forward, curious to hear what he got to say.

”You look so…” he continued, eyes still shut.

You strained your ears to catch more.

”I like you…”

You pressed your lips together before punching his unhurt shoulder, almost too hard.

He gasped, sat up straighter, taking in big gulps of air as his irises move frantically to search for the source of the punch.

”Who-“ he blinked. “Y/N?”

”In the flesh,” you deadpanned.

”What are you-“

”I told you,” you interjected. “Tell it to my face as Ken Sato.”

He looked guilty for a moment, and you leaned back in your chair.

”You’re going to say it was a mistake, aren’t you?” You asked, clearly exasperated.

”No, it wasn’t a mistake!” He quickly said, searching for your eyes. “After the fight that day I felt like being a hero means that there was a possibility I would just-” he imitated an explosion, “disappear.”

You grabbed his collar. “If you know that even any single day you have a possibility of disappearing, that your life is short, then-” the grip around his collar became tighter, “-it means that you have to grab every opportunity as soon as you can. That includes confessing to someone you like.” You threw your hands up in frustration and stood up, pacing back and forth. “God! Why are relationships so complicated? And why am I so, so, so stupid?”

You buried your face in your hands.

“I don’t know,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. “When you said you didn’t have any interest in anyone, and that you didn’t want to waste your time on something so insignificant. Hearing that, I just-” you sighed. “-thought that the answer was so obvious. You have your priorities straight.”

“Y/N-” he stopped you by touching your arm lightly, pulling you over to sit beside him. “That was-” He winced as he felt pain shooting up his arm. He tried again, “That was what I’d usually say in interviews before this, because baseball was the only thing that put a smile on my face. But now…” He took your hand, caressing it. “You came and it was just one, big confusion for me. You are the only person who has managed to,” he chuckled, “cause the Ken Sato to waver. It was a foreign feeling for me."

“Idiot…” you mumbled.

He pulled you closer with his good arm, and obviously inexperienced, you shut your eyes tight as you felt him softly breathing against your cheek. Of course, you thought he’d go for a kiss on your lips, but you heard him chuckle before he pressed a light one on your cheek. You opened your eyes and he was grinning.

He thought you looked adorable.

“What was that?” you asked flatly.

“A kiss?” he said, unsure of what exactly you were implying.

“Uh-uh.”

You grabbed his face, and he looked surprised as you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. Your glasses were in the way so you took them off, and you felt his arm snaking around your waist to hold you firmly in place.

In the heat of the moment and flurry of emotions, you found yourself pinned under him, his good arm caging you. He kissed you again, but this time around you felt your heart beating so loud you had to place your palms against his chest to slightly push him away.

“Ken,” you warned him. “We’re in the hospital.”

He blinked, feigning innocence. “Really? I had no idea.” He traced a finger on your cheek, wiping away the traces of your tears. He pinched your cheek as he said, “The doctor told me that I’m good to be discharged tomorrow.”

Suddenly conscious of how you’re pinned under him, you looked away. “That’s good. You can go back home in no time.”

He tapped a finger on your chin, causing you to look back at him. “My house is still under repair, remember? I’m essentially homeless.”

“You can live with your dad-“

“Take the hint, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead before collapsing beside you, both of you cramped on the small hospital bed.

You thought about how you had never, ever brought a guy home. And now Ken wanted to…?

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

He smiled, squeezing your shoulders as you buried your face in his chest. “Can I ask just one… question?”

“Sure, shoot.”

“What was the dealbreaker, really? The one that made you agree to stay at the secret base?”

“You really want to know?”

“Of course.”

This time, you didn’t even hesitate. “The chance to see the Ken Sato naked of course.”

“Damn it. I knew that was the reason.”

[emmcfrxst]

I’m wondering how Laura would react if reader and OldMan!Logan got into a fight? Maybe they tried to keep it away from her but unfortunately the girls too much like her father and ends up hearing most of it.

Ugh and imagine if she saw Logan storming off not realizing that he left you in tears…

(I’m feeling extremely angsty tonight.)

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, TRAUMA, ILLNESS, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, SUICIDAL IDEATIONS & GOD (I guess????) Set before Logan gets, as nonnie put it, chest-fucked, so during the period of time everyone’s trying to escape the fucking Reavers while figuring shit out. It got too long so it’s under the cut

You don’t argue that often with Logan— your relationship is solid and although communication was rocky at first, he’s made significant progress and is able to hold a serious conversation without immediately jumping back into his defense mechanisms (misguided anger, deflection and ultimately fleeing were his initial reactions when you tried establishing proper communication about feelings in the beginning). His progress, however, is rendered completely useless when the conversation is about his rapidly declining health; he’s immediately on the defensive, body going rigid and eyes going dark, jaw clenched so hard you’re afraid he might shatter it— he hates thinking about his newfound mortality, not necessarily because he’s afraid of death (it’s actually quite the opposite, he seeks death in a way, longing for the pain and the nightmares to just stop once and for all) but because he knows that dying means leaving you on your own and that’s something he can’t bear to think about— the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you is immeasurable; it overwhelms him entirely because he knows that losing him would break you and it makes him feel physically ill to think about the consequences. So in true Logan fashion, he blows you off whenever you bring up your concerns, stating that he’s fine, and the anger he feels at himself and his body for failing him ends up being taken out on you through biting words he regrets as soon as they slip from his tongue.

“I’m the one who’s fuckin’ dying, for Christ’s sake, quit your fuckin’ yapping.” It’s a phrase he regrets uttering for multiple reasons: he hates being rude to you in any way, shape or form because you’re the last person who deserves to be subjected to his emotional constipation— you’ve taken all of his broken parts into your hands and pieced them back together with your unconditional love and unwavering patience, you’ve made him feel loved, you’ve made him feel alive, and most importantly, you’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to feel guilty or bitter about his existence. You’ve done so much for him throughout the years and he fucking hates himself for letting his emotions get the better of him like that. The other thing that bothers him deeply about his reaction is the verbal acknowledgment of his condition; it’s something that he somehow believes can be ignored, as if denying it could make it any less real. Acknowledging that he’s dying makes bile rise up his throat— it’s a bitter feeling, really, because he used to wish for death everyday before he met you, heart and mind torn to shreds from years of horrific abuse and unwavering violence; he even prayed to whatever God was out there, despite not being a believer, to just let him go, to free him of the chains of trauma that bound his psyche. His prayers were left unanswered, Logan only accumulating more trauma as the years went by— he can’t count how many times he’s cursed God for making him go through what he’s gone through, needing someone to blame and wishing for a way to end it all. Ironically, Logan’s immortality only seems to waver once he starts treasuring life; it feels like a stab in the back, a cruel joke orchestrated by God who finally decided to answer his prayers now that he wishes he could take them back. The feeling of betrayal only seems to further fuel Logan’s anger towards his illness, which, combined with the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you alone, causes him to act out whenever you bring up the subject. You take offense in the words thrown at you, hurt by the reminder of his impending death and the way he navigates it, arguing back that you do this because you care about him, for fuck’s sake. Unfortunately, that only seems to make things worse, upsetting Logan further and bringing back years’ worth of feeling unworthy of your affections.

“That’s your fuckin’ problem bub. I told ya you shouldn’t waste your time with a man like me.” he physically winces as he utters those words, wishing he could unsee the way it makes your entire face crumble with despair— it’s a slap in the face, really, to be brought back to square one and have him reject you in this way. Logan flees before either of you can say anything else, slamming the front door behind him and walking in no particular direction until he feels like he can finally breathe again, leaving you in tears at home. Laura, although playing in her makeshift room at the time, hears the whole exchange as clear as day due to her enhanced senses, her fists clenching with rage when her ears pick up the sound of your stifled sobs. You feel her before you even hear her, your body tensing as a pair of small, skinny arms wrap around your middle, a head resting along your spine. After the initial alarm of feeling someone touching you, you can’t help but let out a watery laugh at just how easy it seemed for her to surprise you, turning around in Laura’s arms so you can look down at her. A frown is etched onto her features, lips puckered into an angry pout as she hugs you tighter, insulting Logan in spanish under her breath. It makes you laugh again, this time softly, your hand smoothing out her hair as you sniffle.

“I’m okay, Laura. I’m okay.” she glares up at you, unconvinced, giving you another squeeze and reluctantly allowing her features to relax when you gently run a fingertip across the furrow of her brows— despite not being together for long, you find that you’re able to soothe Laura quite easily; there is a connection between the two of you like you’ve never felt before, a bond that you feel like you were always destined to have. Your heart warms at the obvious way the child seems to care for you, wanting nothing more than to make all of her worries disappear.

“He made you cry.” her voice is so quiet that you almost miss it, a soft, indignant noise leaving her at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffle again, free hand moving up to wipe at your eyes, the other caressing her hair lovingly.

“I know.” you don’t say that it’s okay because it’s not— Logan crossed a line that you thought had been worn down ages ago, and you’ll be damned before you ever teach Laura that hurtful words can be brushed aside so easily without an apology. It’s for her as much as for you; you’re aware that you deserve respect even when Logan is upset, and you’re not about to stomp down on your self-worth to coddle him when he’s done something wrong. He’ll apologize, you’re sure of it, but until that happens, you’re not going to pretend that his reaction was acceptable. It’s something you categorically refuse to do, and it’s one of the many reasons Logan fell in love with you in the first place. You know your worth.

“I’ll be okay soon.” you tell her honestly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She studies you for a moment longer before nodding her head, allowing you to lead her onto the couch where she curls up next to you.

You’re asleep by the time Logan starts walking back towards the house but Laura hears the crunching of sand and gravel under his shoes, quietly untangling herself from you and moving to the side of the door, frown back on her features. Logan barely has the time to pass the threshold before she’s on him, jumping onto his back like a feral animal and punching his shoulders repeatedly, growling when he grabs her and holds her still, visibly confused and irritated by her behavior.

“Don’t even think about it.” he warns her when she makes to bite the hand that holds her down, frowning down at her just as hard she does up to him. She struggles in his hold, trying to hit him again, making him grunt in pain.

“You made her cry, coño.” the words make Logan freeze in his tracks, eyes falling on your sleeping form on the couch, noting the way your eyes look reddened and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Nausea immediately strikes him like lightning, the expression on his face seeming to satisfy Laura as she stops struggling, frown still evident on her face. She sits up and watches silently once he lets her go, staying nearby to see the situation unfold.

You awake to a calloused hand gently running over the plane of your cheekbone, eyes opening to meet Logan’s remorseful ones. He’s sitting on the ground next to the couch, looming over you in a way that makes you feel safe like no one else ever could.

“Hey.” his voice is hoarse but soft, thumb swiping back and forth over your skin in a silent act of comfort. It makes you smile despite your grogginess, and you feel more than you hear Logan releasing a soft, relieved inhale through his nose.

“Hey.” you answer him just as softly, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes again, content to feel him again.

“I’m sorry.” the words sound heavy coming out of his mouth, a grim expression taking over his features as he wipes off the remnants of your earlier tears.

“I know.” you reply simply, turning your head to press a gentle kiss against the roughened palm of his hand. It makes him exhale shakily, shoulders squaring as he prepares himself for the discomfort of the following words.

“Didn’t mean to snap at you, baby. I just… I feel helpless, I guess, and it fuckin’ pisses me off. Never had to worry about dying and leaving you alone before.” he says the words slowly, trying to make the last sentence sound like a joke, tone falling flat. You can tell he’s uncomfortable with the discussion but he pushes through, causing you to feel a rush of sympathy— he’s trying, you know he’s trying, and that means something to you.

“I know. I feel helpless, too. But you have to remember that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, it’s you and me until the end.” he laughs wetly at your words, nodding his head and swallowing thickly before speaking again.

“I know.” this time it’s his turn to provide reassurance, the two little words more than enough for the both of you. The feeling of his warm lips connecting with your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, hand coming up to lay over the one he’s curled around the back of your neck.

“Kid’s kicked my ass for making you cry.” he mumbles against your skin, the amusement in his voice clear. It makes you snort in surprise, unaware that Laura had intervened before you woke up.

“Did she? Well, you kinda deserved it.” your answer is playful, tone devoid of its previous heaviness, your eyes meeting Laura’s over Logan’s shoulder for a brief moment before focusing on your lover once again.

“That I did.” he agrees simply, a soft, tender, apologetic smile on his face. You lean further into him when he kisses your nose, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.

You were going to be okay.

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 1

summary: following in the footsteps of a girl you once knew, you decide to up and leave home one morning without looking back. when you find yourself to be tired, hungry, and alone in the middle of nowhere, you're thankful when a kind stranger offers you a ride, a warm meal, and a place to sleep for the night. he only tells you about himself in bits and pieces, but he seems trustworthy enough, and what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy & daddy issues, brief talk of domestic violence, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, f-receiving non-con somnophilia (no sex, but groping, fingering, dry humping, kissing, and choking), degrading language toward victims, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart), some joel pov, no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, takes place in illinois/ohio/indiana, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, this part is mostly introduction/storytelling/yapping, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 9.8k

a/n: i started this as a oneshot way back in november, and then it sat abandoned for a very long time. thank you to my lovely friends @polaroidpascal and @chippedowlmug for encouraging me to finish it, and also bestie kiers who never hesitates to match my freak. also thank you to the many writers who made me feel inspired to write something dark and not give a fuck what people think about it. i hope you enjoy this joel he's a freak and i love him and if you say anything mean about him i'll send him after you <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 2

Ruby Carpenter.

You had spent all day trying to remember her name without really knowing why. Maybe it’s because as the sun sets on what would be the first day of your junior year at the nearby state school, you wonder if she ever made it to one of the fancy ivy leagues she had always aspired to attend. You wonder if she’s even still alive.

Ruby had disappeared a few years ago now, the summer after your senior year of high school. For nearly a year afterwards, her missing posters remained stapled onto every telephone pole and stuck onto every store window around town, until the paper began to disintegrate and the ink began to fade. In that time, you couldn’t even make a quick run to the grocery store without being confronted by dozens of replicas of her yearbook photo printed onto the sides of all the milk cartons. Despite all of the efforts to find her, including several search parties and a decent amount of statewide media coverage, everyone had just stopped looking for her, eventually. Even the police. Even her parents.

It was decided that she had probably just run away, and you can’t entirely blame her, but you can’t imagine why she would, either. You remember her perfect head of blonde ringlet curls that shone a yellow gold in the sun, and her bright blue eyes that turned fiery in her more passionate moments during classroom debates. She had every boy in your grade wrapped around her finger, was the teacher’s pet in every class, and it wasn’t even a question whether she would win prom queen your senior year. She was always sweet to you, always complimented your outfits or your makeup or your art projects with a genuine lilt in her voice and a kind smile, so you could never bring yourself to hate her even though it would’ve been so easy to. You figured she was going to cure cancer or become the president after you had all graduated, which is why you never really stopped wondering whatever happened to her that summer. She was beautiful, with boundless potential and a bright future ahead of her, why would she have just given it all up?

Everyone around town knew Ruby, or at least it seemed that way. But maybe nobody ever really knew her as well as they thought. Maybe she’d had a secret boyfriend all that time who whisked her away that summer, maybe she had decided to try drugs and fell down a rabbit hole that she couldn’t claw her way out of, maybe she had finally figured out that the only thing this town would ever be good for is holding people back. Maybe she did just wake up one day and decide to run without ever looking behind her.

Maybe you should do the same.

With your dad long gone now and your step-father doing a piss poor job of filling in the hole he left, following in Ruby’s footsteps has sounded like a better idea with each passing day. Rob isn’t even really your step-father, anyway, just your mom’s sorry fucking excuse for a boyfriend. The guy’s already been married upwards of three times before, why try for another one? He’s a lazy son of a bitch who can’t hold down a job at a fast food joint for more than a couple of weeks at a time, who sleeps every second of the day that he’s not chugging through a six pack, and who leaves marks on your mother uglier than his fucking face. 

She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, of course, but it’s not like she’s winning the “mom of the year” award any time soon, either. She’s never even been nominated. She’s forgotten just about every one of your birthdays, been the reason you’ve never had any friends come over, and in her most recent offense, blew all the savings you had put away for your last two years of college. Which is why you’re not spending tonight celebrating being one year closer to at least having an official-looking piece of paper to show for yourself. Instead, you’re using the rattling of your bedroom window unit and the booming bass of your radio to drown out yet another drunken screaming match between your mother and the guy she lets live in your house now, watching the world outside pass you by and knowing that if you don’t do anything about it now, you’ll never make it out of here. You’re thinking about Ruby Carpenter, hoping she found somewhere greener and more promising and was able to make something of herself, far away from here. And you’re thinking that this rusted orange sunset is the last one you’ll ever see from your bedroom window.

It’s decided, then. You’re leaving, first thing tomorrow.

—

You’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep by the time your alarm clock chimes to life at five o’clock on the dot. You’re quick to silence the shrill beeping with a swift swat of your hand, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. The sun has just barely begun to stream in through the blinds of your bedroom window, but it illuminates the room just enough for your eyes to land on the backpack you had stuffed full of a few changes of clothes last night, waiting for you by the door. 

You don’t waste any time stripping off your pajamas and pulling on just about the only clothes left in your room that aren’t in your bag. You’ve got your teeth brushed, face washed, and hair tamed in all of about ten minutes, too anxious to spend even one more unnecessary second in this house. You swing your backpack over your shoulder, pull your bedroom door open at just the right speed so that the hinges don’t squeak too loud, and tiptoe delicately down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that you know like the back of your hand—the one three steps from the top, the one at the landing about halfway down, and the very bottom one.

You land softly when you leap over that tattletale bottom step, successful in the most difficult part of your escape plan so far. Rob is passed out on the living room couch in typical fashion, his mouth full of crooked teeth hanging open as his grating snores permeate the calm morning air. He’s still got a death grip around an empty beer can, even in his sleep, and your mother will likely be the one to toss it into the trash for him, useless fucker that he is. You aren’t going to miss either of them, and you imagine they’ll just skip trying to replicate the first half of the aftermath of Ruby’s disappearance altogether—no posters, no search parties, no police. You’ll just be gone, one less mouth for your mother to feed. Though, you’d been mostly feeding yourself since you were tall enough to slide a couple of bills across the counter at the corner store down the street, anyway. You’re ready to disappear, the same as candle wax when it burns, the same as the end of a rainbow, the same as Ruby Carpenter.

You don’t bother looking back when you shut the door behind you, content to leave it all behind just as the sun begins to rise and set the sky ablaze. By the time it sets again tonight, you hope to be in a different county, in a different state, anywhere that isn’t here. The rest, you’ll just have to figure out when you get there, wherever “there” may be.

—

You had only realized about an hour ago that you’d forgotten your cheap digital watch in the drawer of your bedside table, where it’s laid unused for the past couple of months, because who needs to tell time during the summer? You never had anywhere to be, never had to get to class or turn in a paper by a certain time, so it’s just been collecting dust since you had unclipped it from your wrist on the last day of spring semester. It sure would have come in handy right about now, when you have no fucking clue what time it is. The sun had disappeared behind the hills several mile markers back, so it must be… eight o’clock? Ten o’clock? Fucking midnight? You have no idea. What you do know is that you’re exhausted, hungry, and your feet hurt like hell. You aren’t really sure what you expected, the reality only just now setting in that you don’t even have ten bucks to your name anymore, thanks to your narcissist of a mother. The crumpled up bills you do have in your pocket are hardly enough for a goddamn sandwich, let alone a motel room. The cool night breeze raises goosebumps on your skin, and you swear you can see your fucking breath, even in the middle of August. You wrap your arms around yourself just as tears begin to prick at your waterlines, and you let them fall as you collapse onto the scratchy patch of dead grass on the side of the freeway, not a park bench or a bus stop or even a gas station in sight for God knows how many more miles.

You sit cross-legged, elbows propped up on your knees so that your hands can support your weary head, the skin of your palms becoming slippery with salty tears as your crying just doesn’t seem to stop. The road you’ve found yourself on seems relatively low-trafficked, the heaving sounds of your sobs accompanied by more cricket chirps and rustling wheat than rumbling tires. But a few high beams do streak across your vision every once in a while, coloring the backs of your eyelids a flaming scarlet.

After several minutes, your tears seem to dry up on their own, your body likely too dehydrated now to produce any more. You wipe the moisture from under your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling as you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip and debate if you should just turn back now, give up on your stupid little plan (or lack thereof) and just call the whole thing a loss, pretend it never even happened. Your mother and Rob won’t have even noticed you’d left.

Just as you pull yourself back up to your feet, set on at least finding somewhere that isn’t the hard ground to sleep on tonight before you make your way back home tomorrow, the warm headlights of an old pickup truck are shining bright in your eyes. You put your arm up to block them as the truck slowly squeals to a halt in front of where you’re standing, and you squint your eyes at the driver as your vision adjusts.

“You need a ride, sweetheart?” A man asks in a gravelly voice, and you can still hardly make out what he looks like. Based on the southern accent you pick up on, he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here. 

“N-no, thank you. I’m okay,” you respond shakily, taking a nervous step back from the stranger and his rusted pickup.

“You sure? Looked like you were cryin’ over here, like you might be lost or somethin’.”

“‘M not lost, I know where I’m going.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

Shit. 

You take a guess.

“Um… the motel down the road,” you reply, tilting your head in the direction you had been walking in.

“There ain’t a motel down there, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ in either direction for miles, ‘s all just farmland out here. Reckon you’ve already figured that out, though.”

You pause, unsure of what your next move should be. He knows you’re lying, knows you’re alone with no fucking idea where you are or where you’re going. You could run, but even that shitty truck of his could catch up to you in a matter of seconds. You take another step back, swiveling your head around to look up and down the road as you try to figure your best way out of this.

“Just lemme give you a ride somewhere, darlin’. There’s a diner just off the exit, ‘bout twenty miles up ahead. Could take you that far, at least, get you somethin’ to eat,” he offers. A warm meal does sound pretty good right now, and you suppose you aren’t exactly in a position to refuse his help.

You think on it for a second. “What’s it called? The diner.”

The stranger huffs. “Moody’s.”

“What do they have?” you challenge.

He sighs. “It’s a fuckin’ diner off the side of the freeway, darlin’. They got greasy food and black coffee, ‘s about all you need.”

You don’t say anything.

Then, after a beat—“They got some kinda sloppy mess they call the Thunder Burger. ‘S got onion rings and shit on it. Ain’t half bad.”

You have to admit, he’s passing your pop quiz with flying colors. His answers have been too quick, too specific for him to be lying to you. There’s a pretty solid chance this diner does exist, and that he’s been there before. The man hasn’t said anything that’s indicated he wants more to do with you than to offer you a ride and some dinner. He’s probably just somebody’s harmless grandfather, anyway, judging by his motheaten flannel and gray-stricken beard you can see now that you’ve approached his truck a few paces closer.

“Okay,” you concede, your stomach growling loudly as the man leans over the bench seat to pop open the passenger side door for you. You shrug off your backpack and climb into the cabin, clicking your seatbelt into place as you situate yourself on the cracked leather seat. 

“All set?” the stranger asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, finally getting a better look at the man you might just owe the rest of your life to after tonight. For being somebody’s grandfather, he’s… kinda handsome. Really fucking handsome, actually, in a rugged sort of way. He’s got warm amber eyes that sparkle even in the dark of night, a kind smile that completely disarms you in an instant, and a splintering scar across the bridge of his nose that somehow only adds to his good looks. You try to suppress your own grin as you look away from him quickly, opting to focus on fidgeting with one of the fraying edges of your denim shorts instead. Even in your peripheral vision, you don’t miss how his eyes shift from your own to the exposed skin of your thighs. He doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat as he shifts gears and steers his truck back onto the road again. 

He lets the next few minutes pass in comfortable silence before asking, “You got a name, sweetheart?”

You tell him, and he flashes another charming smile at you. “I like that, ‘s pretty… Well, I’m Joel. Sure you were wonderin’. Now you ain’t gettin’ a ride from a stranger no more, are ya?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not,” you giggle, and you’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. “So… you’ve been to Moody’s before?”

“Handful of times, yeah. When I’m passin’ through.”

You nod. “So you come up here, like… for work or somethin’?”

Joel chuckles. “Or somethin’. You never even heard of the damn place, so… reckon you don’t find yourself out here very often, do ya?”

“No… ‘M not even really sure where ‘here’ is, to be honest. I just kinda… started walking.”

“Ah… a runaway, then, are ya?” Joel asks, with an appreciated amount of understanding in his tone rather than judgment. “‘M sure your folks are missin’ ya right about now, must have your boyfriend worried sick.”

You scoff at that. “Fuck no. They probably don’t even know I’m gone, won’t even bother trying to come look for me. And I don’t have a boyfriend, so…”

“Damn shame. ‘M sorry about that, sweetheart,” Joel comforts, placing a large calloused hand on your thigh. It makes your breath hitch, but his touch isn’t entirely unwelcome. You let him squeeze once at the plush of your leg before he replaces his hand on the wheel, and your cunt spasms out a little fluttering pulse against the seam of your shorts, despite yourself.

The rest of the drive to Moody’s is relatively quiet, save for the gentle crooning of an old country singer emanating from the cassette player on the dash. The soft singing and steady strumming of a banjo combined with the muffled chugging of the truck’s engine is enough to lull you to sleep, especially after the day you’ve had. You know that just about every mental alarm bell you have should be screaming at you to jump out of the car, to run, that sleeping alone in the dirt would’ve been a better decision than getting into this strange man’s—Joel’s—truck, but you’re too tired to hear them. He smells good, like woodsmoke and pine and cinnamon, and if he wanted to do something awful to you, he probably would’ve done it by now. So you trust him, for now at least, and let your lashes fan out against your cheeks as your head falls back against the cushioned headrest, coaxed into sleep by the lullaby of tires against pavement and fingertips against guitar strings.

—

You only rouse when you feel the truck come to a stop about half an hour or so later, slowly blinking your eyes open against the bright neon sign that reads “MOODY’S” in bold capital letters. Your jaw stretches wide as a yawn overtakes the muscles, and you hear Joel’s southern drawl replace the one from the cassette as he shuts the engine off.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead. Not too tired to eat somethin’ now, are ya?”

Another unpleasant-sounding rumble from your empty stomach answers for you, loud enough for both of you to hear this time. The air puffing out of the diner’s kitchen smells strongly of fatty bacon and rich coffee, just like Joel had promised you the place would offer. Although the digital clock on the dash read just after 10:30 before you fell asleep, you’ve never craved breakfast quite like you do right now. You absentmindedly lick your lips as you imagine the sweet and savory—and more importantly free—meal that could be waiting for you beyond that blinding beacon of a sign.

“Well, alright then. Let’s get some food in ya before you keel over, hm?” Joel says as he exits the truck, landing on his feet in the dirt parking lot with a soft groan. He waits by the hood for you to meet up with him, and you walk up the couple of steps to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you, and you offer him a shy ‘thank you’, to which he responds with a soft spoken ‘welcome, sweetheart’. You stand shyly behind his broad form as he asks the hostess for a table for two, and she leads you to a green leather booth tucked into the corner of the diner. She hands each of you a sticky laminated menu, the pages a charming mess of clashing colors and faded pictures and retro-looking fonts, then departs with a promise that your waitress will bring the two of you some water as you take your time deciding on what you might like. 

You light up upon reading that Moody’s serves breakfast all day, and that they can make you exactly what you were hoping for—a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with sides of bacon and hashbrowns. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you wiggle in your seat, excitedly anticipating the waitress to come back around so you can order.

“Whatcha so excited about over there?” Joel asks, eyeing you from across the table as he glances up from his own menu.

“Nothin’, I was just hoping I could get some pancakes, and they have ‘em on the menu,” you explain giddily. “I’ll probably get some coffee, too, really complete the whole ‘breakfast for dinner’ thing.”

Joel huffs through his nose. “Decaf, I hope. ‘S the middle of the goddamn night, sweetheart. Gonna be bouncin’ off the walls in the room later, hardly get any sleep.”

He’s right, you suppose. But wait—“What room?”

Joel shrugs casually. “There’s a decent motel another exit or two down, figured they could probably get us a couple o’ beds for the night. But, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No, it’s okay.”

Is it? You only met the man less than an hour ago, and you already agreed to let him give you a ride before you even knew his name. You suppose you hadn’t really thought about what would happen after he bought you dinner, but not thinking ahead seems to have been a theme today, hasn’t it? You remind yourself that he’s only been kind and respectful to you so far, save for that placement of his hand on your upper thigh soon after he picked you up. But that could’ve just been a friendly, paternal gesture, right? And he said a couple of beds, when he mentioned the motel, which seemed to imply that he plans on the two of you sleeping in separate beds, maybe even separate rooms. You’ve found yourself having to make yet another somewhat reckless decision tonight, but one that would be in your best interest to say ‘yes’ to, at this point. What other option would you have if you declined his offer?

“Don’t really have anywhere else to go, so… yeah, okay. Motel sounds good. And decaf it is, I guess.”

Joel’s apologetic expression quickly morphs into a satisfied smirk. “Good girl,” he praises. You like how the words sound coated in his thick drawl, even though you probably shouldn’t. You shift where you sit as that familiar fluttering sensation returns to the seat of your panties, just for a moment. You’re grateful that the waitress arrives at the booth not a second later, cheerily introducing herself as she sets down a glass of water for each of you. When she asks if you’re ready to order, Joel gestures to you as if to say ‘ladies first’, and you politely prattle off your request. You make sure to emphasize that you’d like your coffee decaf, and ask if she could please bring some more of the little cups of vanilla creamer to the table. “Not a problem, honey,” she replies, and Joel winks at you as she asks what she can get for him. He orders the Thunder Burger he had told you about earlier, and a black coffee, which he doesn’t request to be decaf. The waitress leaves the two of you alone again with an ‘I’ll have that right out for ya,’ and you let your eyes follow the calming baby blue color of her dress as she glides her way back to the kitchen. When she disappears around the corner of the bar, you take the opportunity to study Moody’s other patrons. There isn’t another young person in sight, mostly just men around Joel’s age with similarly heavy bags under their eyes, likely truck drivers indulging in their first hot meal of the day within the diner’s comforting wood-paneled walls. You wonder if that’s how Joel knows about this place, because he “passes through” this area on long hauls across the midwest. You open your mouth to ask him if your assumption is correct, but he cuts you off before you can say anything.

“I gotta admit, sweetheart, I’m curious… The hell was a pretty thing like you doin’ out in the middle of goddamn nowhere tonight? I mean, I know you’re a runaway ‘n all, but… shouldn’t you be one o’ those college party girls or somethin’? ‘M sure you got plenty of friends wonderin’ where you are.”

You sigh, shaking your head as you distractedly pick at a splintered piece of wood at the edge of the table.

“I was in college. Was supposed to be going back again this year, but… my mom spent all the fucking savings I had left for the rest of it on fixing up her dumb boyfriend’s car. It’s just been sitting in the fucking lawn all summer, sure as hell not being used for something useful like going to the job he doesn’t have. That bastard…” You say the last part under your breath through gritted teeth.

“Shit… Tha’s a tough deal, baby, ‘m real sorry to hear that,” Joel comforts. “But y’know, everybody’s got mommy ‘n daddy issues, don’t mean you just up and start walkin’ all by your lonesome, not even have any idea where you’re goin’.”

“Well, it wasn’t just that. There was… nevermind, it’s stupid.” You slump into the cushioned booth, silently cursing yourself for even bringing it up.

“What is it?” Joel pushes, sitting up straighter to show you that he wants to listen, wants to get to know you. And God dammit, he might be the first person you’ve met in a long time who actually seems to care about what you have to say, as strange as it is. You flick your eyes up to his face, and he’s wearing a sincere gaze that convinces you to continue.

“There was this girl I went to high school with. She disappeared a couple of years ago, nobody ever found out what happened to her. People figured she probably just ran away, and I thought… I dunno. That maybe she had the right idea, leaving that place behind. I always held onto this hope that maybe she was still out there somewhere actually doing something with her life, that maybe she just changed her name or something and disappeared on purpose.” You pause. “I guess I just thought I might be able to do the same, if I left.”

“I see…” Joel muses sympathetically. “Maybe I oughta give you a lil’ more credit, then. Must’a been tough losin’ a friend like that, not knowin’ where she ended up.”

“I mean, Ruby wasn’t really my friend. She just—”

“Hang on. Ruby, you said?” Joel interrupts, his eyes suddenly looking a little wild.

“...Yeah. Her name was Ruby. Ruby Carpenter.”

—

Fuck.

Joel has to adjust himself under the table, his dick now hardening uncomfortably in his jeans at just the mention of her name. He remembers Ruby, remembers chuckling to himself when he realized the irony of her name matching the color of her blood, remembers watching the news coverage of her disappearance in this very same diner, those handful of years ago. She was a sweet thing, he remembers this, too. It was a shame she had ended up being such a fighter, that she had to get put down the way she did. But she shouldn’t have thrown that fucking rock at his face, called him a sick fuck and a freak as she made her pitiful little escape attempt. Joel is lucky that all he came away from it with is that ugly little scar that mars the bridge of his nose. He can’t say the same for her.

“Why? You heard her name before?” You ask him, an unfortunate little twinkle of hope in your eyes.

“Maybe.” Yes. “Sounds a lil’ familiar, might remember hearin’ about it on the news or somethin’.”

That goddamn news coverage sure as hell taught him a lesson. Joel had spent months trying to keep the cops off his fucking tail after he had dumped her body on some forgettable patch of land behind an old decaying barn. He had even gotten pulled in for a fucking interview at the station in what he now presumes to be your hometown, where they had questioned him for an hour or so about her disappearance. He still isn’t sure how he talked his way out of that one. Ruby might not have been good for much else, other than pissing him the hell off with all of her pathetic crying and begging to just please, please let me go back home, but she did help him perfect his craft, he can give her that much. It’s because of her that Joel makes certain now that any girl he picks up doesn’t have anybody who will miss her or plaster her face on every local channel or send out goddamn search parties to find her. Girls like you.

You’re just so perfect, it would be so fucking easy for him to make you disappear for good, it’s almost comical. It had hardly taken any convincing at all to get you to climb into his truck, had taken even less to get you to agree to go to some seedy ass motel with him that might not even exist, for all you know. It does, but you didn’t even try to test him about it this time, just put all of your trust in him like a stray puppy would to the first person to pick it up off the street. That is just about what you are, he supposes. So far, you seem like the perfect candidate to become his little captive pet. If you keep it up, maybe you won’t meet the same fate as the rest of them. He’d told himself he’d be done after the last one, anyway, his body too old and achy and slow now to chase after the ones who put up a little more fight, like she had. She’d nearly escaped, made it a decent way through the woods and almost reached the main road before tripping on an exposed root and snapping her ankle. He remembers how weak and scared she’d looked before he’d used his knife to put her out of her misery, and it makes his dick twitch. Joel doesn’t plan on snuffing you out, not right now at least, since you haven’t given him a reason to. But his fingers still twitch where they rest on the table, moving out of instinct as he can’t help but imagine what they’d look like wrapped so tightly around your little throat. Would you cry? Would you beg? Would you pray? Would he have to glide his blade across your vocal chords just to get you to stop screaming so fucking loud? He wonders.

“Oh… Was that one of the times you were just ‘passin’ through’ for whatever reason you haven’t told me yet?”

Joel hadn’t realized that his eyes had been unfocused for so long, or that he’d been holding his breath, or that his hand had been squeezing his glass of water so hard he’s glad it hadn’t shattered. The airy sound of your voice brings him back to reality, and he huffs a light chuckle as he fixes his face into a more pleasant expression. 

“Yeah, ‘spose it was.” 

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Come on, Joel. I just told you, like, my whole sob story. I feel like I deserve to know at least one thing about you now.”

You have a point.

He gives in. “Fine. I got a brother, used to come through this area when I’d pay him a visit. That good enough for ya?”

You cross your arms. “No. What’s his name?”

“Tommy.”

“What’s he look like?”

“Like me. Little younger. Little uglier.”

You laugh at that.

It makes Joel smile.

Maybe you could be the one he’s been looking for all this time. Too bad he had to waste so many others before he finally got to you.

—

The waitress comes back to your table soon after that, with your steaming plates of delicious-smelling food and hot mugs of coffee balanced expertly on a large plastic tray. She sets them down in front of the pair of you with a cheery smile, and you thank her happily when she doesn’t forget the extra sickeningly sweet cups of creamer you had requested. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you once during the interaction, not even to feast his eyes upon the monstrous burger now sitting before him, not even as he thanks the waitress for delivering it to him. His lingering gaze makes you feel a little warm, but it could just be from the heat radiating off of your plates.

“What? You’re not getting a bite of mine, if that’s why you’re looking at me,” you tease, already getting to work putting the sugary creamer to good use.

Joel just shakes his head, his caramel colored eyes still never leaving you as your coffee begins to resemble their hue. “No, ‘s not why.”

“Whatever,” you reply through a giggle, making a poor attempt to hide your girlish grin behind the lip of your white ceramic mug. 

The two of you eat your meals in relative silence, mostly enjoying each other’s company and basking in the relaxing ambience created by silverware tapping against porcelain, hushed conversations, and the local country station playing through the old radio sitting on the counter. The reception is a little spotty way out here in wherever the hell you are, so you can’t quite tell what song it is. But Joel seems to know, judging by the rhythmic bouncing of his knee under the table that creates little circular ripples in your coffee. Maybe you’ll ask him what it is later, how he knows it, if you can listen to it again in the truck together. He doesn’t seem to be as much of an open book as you’ve already given yourself away to be, and you respect that about him. It doesn’t make you any less curious, but you resign yourself to getting to know him better in the small doses he’s willing to offer you. 

You decide to begin a mental list of all the things you want to ask him later, knowing that by the time you make it to the motel tonight, you’ll be far too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse onto the springy mattress and sleep until you get kicked out of the room the next morning. You almost wish you hadn’t listened to Joel’s request for you to take your coffee decaffeinated tonight, and you still aren’t quite sure why you did. It just feels so strangely easy to give into him, to trust him, to let him make decisions for you. You suppose that’s what you’ve been needing all this time, someone to guide you and understand you and at least pretend like they care about you. Joel has shown you more concern and care and protection in the last hour or so than either of your parents have pretty much your whole life. And he’s good at this, making you feel wanted, making you feel like somebody, even in subtle ways, just by looking at you.

“A’right, why don’t you finish up, darlin’, ‘n we’ll hit the road again. Practically usin’ your pancakes as a pillow over there.”

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize sleepily, waking yourself up enough to make quick work finishing off your plate and your last few sips of coffee. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout, sweetheart. Lord knows you need some rest, won’t be too much longer now,” Joel assures, fishing a few tens out of his faded leather wallet and placing them on the table. He slides to the edge of the booth and stands himself up with only a few pained noises as he straightens out his back, then offers his hand for you to take. You use it as leverage to pull yourself upright, and your hands linger in each other’s hold for a few seconds longer than they need to. The hostess thanks the two of you for stopping in when you pass her by, and Joel opens the door for you again as you leave Moody’s. He opens the truck door for you, too, and promises you that the motel is just another couple of minutes down the freeway. You make an effort to stay awake in your seat this time as Joel begins the drive, opting to gaze out the window and focus on trying to make out the sparkling constellations above the treeline. You smile privately at the moon when you find that she’s following closely behind you just as she always does, bright and full. 

She doesn’t leave your side until you reach the unassuming little roadside motel, which to your gratitude, proudly displays their vacancy on the flickering sign in the parking lot. It doesn’t look like a five star joint by any means, but you know it will serve its purpose just fine. Joel instructs you to stay in the truck while he goes about getting a room for the two of you, and you don’t object. He’d insisted that you didn’t need to be on your feet any longer than you already had been today, and you were too tired to argue with him even if you wanted to. When he returns, he taps lightly on the passenger side window so as not to startle you from the half-asleep, half-awake state you’ve found yourself in, and swings your backpack over his shoulder as he helps you out of the truck. He leads you to the room at the end of the row, and the door takes some finessing of the key and a shove of his shoulder to open. Joel flicks on the light, and you let out a disappointed-sounding ‘oh…’ when it reveals your accommodations.

There aren’t two beds like you had assumed Joel was going to request. There’s only one.

Joel catches your reaction. “‘S this gonna be alright? I know it ain’t the Ritz Carlton, but—”

“No, the room’s fine, it’s not that. I just thought… I just assumed that… I didn’t know it was gonna be, like… just the one bed.” You try to explain your discomfort as gently as possible, without seeming ungrateful for everything Joel has done for you tonight.

He looks at you sympathetically. “I know, I ain’t tryin’ anythin’, I swear. Guy told me it was the last room they had, jus’ figured it was better than nothin’.” 

You offer him a soft smile, but your eyes must still look a little wide as you begin to nervously pick at your fingernails. Joel continues, “I can take the chair if you want, darlin’. Get the bed all to yourself, how’s that sound?”

You visibly relax at that, your shoulders deflating as your smile becomes a little more genuine. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. How’s about you take a nice hot shower, rinse off some o’ that dirt you picked up from walkin’ all day… Don’t suppose you got some suitable clothes in here for sleepin’ in?” Joel asks, handing your backpack off to you.

You shake your head. “Just some jeans and t-shirts, and another pair of shoes. And… y’know, some underwear, and stuff.”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his fingers across his forehead exasperatedly. “I swear… it’s like you didn’t think there’d be a tomorrow or somethin’, girl. Christ.” Joel looks out the window to his truck parked just outside. “Tell you what, think I got somethin’ in the truck you can wear. Why don’t you see if they got anythin’ on the TV tha’s worth a damn, ‘n I’ll be back, alright?”

You nod, “Okay,” then set your backpack down on the drab carpet in favor of picking up the remote perched in front of the small square television. You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed as Joel leaves the room, and begin to flick through the few channels that aren’t just a screen full of snowy static.

Local news. Commercial. Game show. Commercial. Documentary. Commercial. 

Eventually, you land on what seems to be one of those old black-and-white western shows that you can never remember the name of. You only know that the reruns used to play on Sundays around lunchtime, because Rob would always be half paying attention to it with a beer in his hand when you and your mom would get home from church. For how adamant she was that you attend every weekend, she sure never called him a harlot and a sinner for not wanting to go with her. You’re not sure she had ever even tried to get him to go, but he probably didn’t own anything decent enough to wear, anyway. Whatever, fuck them. The show seems like the kind of thing Joel would like, so you let it keep playing. 

He comes back a moment later with a small stack of folded up clothes, tossing them over to where you sit on the bed. You unfold what he’s given you and examine them—a pair of simple pink cotton shorts, and a white tank top with a ditsy floral pattern scattered across the fabric. The clothing is a little more revealing than you’d like, but you figure you’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable wearing them to sleep than the denim shorts you have on now.

“These are… great. Thank you, Joel. But…” you snicker. “Should I be concerned that you have a very convenient supply of girls’ clothes in your truck?” Joel scoffs. “‘S for when I got Tommy’s kid with me, smartass. He’s got a daughter, few years younger ‘n you.”

“Okay, well, I dunno how I was supposed to know that, but… as long as you don’t have a girlfriend who’s gonna come after me for wearing her clothes.”

Joel only chuckles in response, his attention suddenly pulled to the TV.

“Gunsmoke, huh? ‘S a good choice, definitely what I’d classify as ‘worth a damn’.”

You smile to yourself, and his approval makes that warm fluttery feeling return to your belly. “I didn’t even know what it was called, just seemed like something you’d like.”

He turns back to you. “That obvious, huh? ‘S just ‘cause I’m old and southern, ain’t it?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit, making a pinching gesture with your hand.

Joel nods as he makes his way over to the armchair on the corner of the room, collapsing onto it with a groan. “Well, why don’t you go ‘n get yourself all changed and cleaned up, ‘n if you’re quick enough maybe we can finish the episode together and then get some shuteye, hm?”

You swiftly unzip your backpack to retrieve one of your clean pairs of underwear, then bound over to the small bathroom with them and your new change of clothes in hand. It’s not the most spotless one you’ve ever had to use, but you’ve honestly seen much worse. You rinse off quickly in the steaming shower, using the scratchy motel-provided washcloth to scrub the dirt from your legs, stuck to you with the sweat you worked up from God knows how many miles of walking today. 

Today. You can hardly believe it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours since you left home yet. It seems like you’ve already known Joel for days, maybe even years, as silly as it sounds. You wonder if he might just take you in after this, or if he’ll have had enough of providing for you after just one night. He seems like a man of limited means, and he’s already given you so much. If you’re brave enough, maybe you’ll ask him tomorrow, when you get to the ‘so… what now?’ part of your time together.

For now, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off with an impossibly scratchier towel, then pull on your panties and the tank top and shorts Joel provided you with.

Jesus, how much younger is Tommy’s daughter?

The shorts just barely cover your ass, and there’s a sizable gap between their waistband and the bottom hem of your top. The thin, white material of the shirt only serves to accentuate the way your nipples poke through the fabric, but you suppose there isn’t anything you can do about that.

You quietly crack open the bathroom door, and are somewhat relieved to find that Joel’s already fallen asleep in the chair. You do wish you could’ve finished the episode of Gunsmoke with him, but the end credits seem to be rolling already anyway, and you’d rather avoid being seen in your very ill-fitting pajamas. Although, you do wonder if he’d say anything, or if he’d just let his hungry gaze linger in silence again, holding himself back from touching you beyond a comforting pat on the thigh.

You pick the remote up off the bed and use it to make the TV screen sizzle to black, then tip toe over to the lightswitch by the door and turn it off, the room now completely shrouded in darkness. Joel snores softly from the chair as you blindly feel your way back over to the bed, pulling the covers back and nestling yourself underneath them. The bed is surprisingly comfortable, considering, and it doesn’t take long for your exhaustion to catch up with you. Your thoughts become slower and slower along with your breathing, and you’re asleep not even five minutes after your head hits the pillow.

—

The last room they had, yeah, right. You’re just the most pathetic little thing, aren’t you? You’ll believe just about anything that comes out of his mouth if he turns up the ‘southern charm’ dial a few ticks, throws in a feigned apologetic-looking expression for good measure. It’s sad, really. For you, anyway.

Joel fakes his snoring for another thirty minutes or so, until he’s certain you’re sound asleep. He had heard your breath even out almost immediately after you had tucked yourself in, but he had chosen to lay in wait for a little while longer, just to make sure you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight when he made his move. You don’t seem like the type, considering how you’d hardly argued with him at all tonight, like when he had convinced you to forgo the caffeine with your dinner. There’s a reason he wanted you sleepy and subdued tonight, but you didn’t know that. Joel likes how well you listen to him, how easily you do as he asks.

He also likes how warm you are, how small your body is compared to his own, the difference in size especially prominent now that he’s laying snugly against you, his front pressing firmly into the back of you. You don’t wake from his lumbering movement, only coming to slightly when you feel his arm slide underneath your body, his warm hand snaking its way beneath your tiny shirt to squeeze at your plush tits. 

You mumble out a little “Hm?”, which he’s quick to quiet with, “Sorry, darlin’. Chair was too hard on my damn back. Just go back to sleep, ‘kay?” That chair felt like laying on a goddamn cloud compared to some of the other surfaces he’s found himself having to sleep on before, but again, you don’t know that, and what you don’t know won’t hurt you. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning, how his hard cock is slotted so perfectly against your ass, especially without the confines of his thick jeans holding him back. They’re discarded onto the floor now in front of the armchair, along with his flannel shirt and jacket. Joel holds you tightly against his bare, hairy chest as he circles a roughened pad of his finger around one of your nipples, smirking to himself at how quickly the bud hardens from his touch. He knew you wanted this, and the wet spot that the fingers of his other hand are teasing in the gusset of your panties is proof of it. How long have you been leaking for him like this? Had you been soaking the seat of his truck earlier today? Filthy thing.

You still don’t rouse when he pulls your panties aside and slips a finger inside your slick cunt, or when his grip on your tit loosens in favor of sliding up higher under your tank top, his hand coming to a rest around the base of your throat as he pumps his finger in and out of your tight heat. It would be so fucking easy…

But he can’t, he won’t, because you’re not like the others. You want to get to know him, you let him take care of you, you seem to like his company, and you don’t leap out of bed and call him a fucking perv and a dirty old man for what he’s doing to you. That’s what the others would have done. It’s what they have done. And they faced the consequences.

But you’re different. You’re not like them. You’re like him. A lost soul, that’s what you are. Nowhere to call home, no one who misses you or loves you or gives a damn what happens to you. Joel’s mouth had tasted bitter when he had told you about Tommy, or rather, lied about him. Joel hasn’t seen the fucker in years, certainly doesn’t pay him any visits or watch his brat, not since Tommy had learned the truth. You better not show your goddamn face around here ever again, you understand me? Tommy had spat at him. You’re fuckin’ sick. Only reason I don’t turn your ass in myself is ‘cause you’re my goddamn brother. But if I ever fuckin’ see you again, I won’t hesitate. Better make yourself pretty fuckin’ scarce ‘fore I change my mind. That might’ve been about the only time Joel had ever taken orders from his little brother. 

That bitter flavor is cut by the sweet tang of you that he tastes on his finger now, so young and eager and fresh. The hand around your throat squeezes a little tighter, and Joel’s hips begin to move against your ass as he allows himself to suck wet kisses onto the skin under the hinge of your jaw. Softly, gently, so as not to wake you. He could come just like this, using your pliant body in your sleep, rutting himself against your still form with the taste of your pussy on his tongue and his fingers pressed against your pulse points.

He’s close when you stir again, making broken hiccuping sounds as you choke on your breath.

“Shh, shh,” Joel soothes. “You’re alright, sweetheart. ‘S just me. Just—fuck—hold still, go back to sleep, baby.” You let out a quiet whimper, squirming against him just a little bit, but return to your unmoving and silent state a second later. Joel finishes himself off quickly with another couple of shallow thrusts against you, his large hand still gripped around the column of your neck, trying to stifle his groans as he spills into his briefs. He removes his suffocating hand and keeps you pressed tightly against him for a while after that, tanned arms wrapped around your waist and breathing in your scent as he waits for you to settle back down. 

When he’s sure he won’t disturb you again, Joel releases you from his hold and pads quietly back over to the armchair, redressing himself and resuming the position you had left him in. In the morning, if you do remember any of it, you’ll just chalk it up to a very strange dream, one fueled by the desire he knows you’ve felt towards him since he picked you up. You’ll be left with a strange assuredness that he feels the same way about you, without really knowing why. 

But Joel will always know.

—

The digital clock on the nightstand only reads around 8:00 when you’re awoken by a beam of sunlight shining brightly against the backs of your eyelids, streaming in from the window’s lopsided blinds. You had gone to sleep with your back to Joel, but you find yourself facing him now. He looks kind of peaceful when he’s asleep, that permanent furrow etched between his brows finally smoothed out as he dozes. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but they fall quickly when you adjust your legs and feel the cool dampness against your core, the sensation bringing back the memory of the dream you’d had last night. 

It had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, could it? There’s no evidence that Joel had really laid next to you last night, that he’d really touched you like that, that you’d wanted him to keep going. It must just be some kind of strange side effect of the affection you feel toward the man who had rescued you, more or less. You’ll likely just part ways after today, anyway, so it’s probably best to just try and forget about the whole thing, put on a fresh pair of underwear and pretend it never happened. 

Joel is awake by the time you’re done freshening up in the bathroom, and he greets you with a raspy ‘Mornin’, sweetheart’ as you retrieve your backpack from next to the bed and shove your ruined underwear into the bottom of it. “You get some good sleep last night?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his eye.

“Mhm, the bed was nice, more comfortable than the one I had at home, honestly.” You finish zipping your backpack closed and sit back down on the bed, pulling on some socks and the lace up sneakers you had been wearing yesterday. “I hope the chair was okay, like, for your back and everything.”

“What makes you say that, baby?”

You pause in the middle of tying one of your shoelaces, turning to look at him with a confused pout. “Didn’t you…? I thought you had told me something about how the chair would be hard on your back. Like, last night.”

Joel frowns, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, darlin’. Chair was just fine.”

“Oh… Well, that’s good.”

Maybe it had just been a dream, then.

Joel hands you a few bills from his wallet, and tasks you with getting the two of you some breakfast from the gas station across the street while he cleans himself up. He tells you that he doesn’t eat much in the mornings, but that you can get yourself whatever you want, as long as you bring him back a carton of cigarettes and a black coffee. You obey eagerly, retrieving what he asked for and getting a pack of miniature powdered donuts and an equally as sugary coffee for yourself.

He’s just stepped out of the bathroom when you return to the room, and your face feels hot when you see him with his dark hair slicked back and wet from the shower. The few strands that fall onto his forehead as he laces up his boots almost make him look a little boyish, despite his whitened temples. 

“Such a good girl, thank you,” Joel praises when you hand him his items. 

You respond with a shy ‘You’re welcome’, but he doesn’t miss how you seem to light up at his words. You plop yourself down onto the worn-in chair that Joel had used as a bed last night, happily munching on your gas station donuts and sipping on your coffee. It all makes you feel warm from the inside out.

But you figure you should find out what the rest of today might look like before you let yourself enjoy the beginnings of it too much.

“So, um… We’re just gonna check out this morning and then… what?” 

“Whaddya mean, baby?”

“I mean… are you just gonna, like… take me to the nearest bus station or something?”

Joel’s confusion is written all over his face, embedded deep into those lines between his brows. You could swear he almost looks a little hurt. “Why would I do that? ‘S that what you want?” He asks softly.

You try to backpedal a little, afraid you might’ve offended him or seemed ungrateful in your question. “I just thought it might be what you want. That you probably have somewhere else you need to be, like Tommy’s or—”

“No, I don’t,” Joel says definitively.

You pause. “Okay, so—”

“You ever been to California?”

His question stumps you for a moment, seeming so random in its nature. “No.”

“You want to?”

You shrug. “I mean… sure. Maybe someday—”

“Why don’t you come with me then, baby?”

You let out an awkward giggle. “...Come with you where?”

“To California. Come with me.” Joel’s tone is genuine but firm.

“Like, today? Are you sure?”

“I mean, we ain’t gettin’ there today, darlin’. But yeah, I’m sure. We both got nowhere else to be, do we? So let’s just go, we’ll see it together.”

You beam up at him, realizing that he’s being serious. Joel does want you, wants you to be his companion, maybe even something more that you’ll discover on familiar-looking back roads and in cities you’ve only ever seen pictures of. 

“Okay,” you agree excitedly. 

Joel nods. “Okay, then. Lemme go check us out ‘n we’ll get back on the road again. Burnin’ daylight already,” he jokes. He carries your backpack out to the truck for you, setting it down between your feet after he opens the door and helps you inside with a stable hand. It only takes a few minutes for Joel to hand in the room key and pay for the night, and then he’s back at your side. You begin to feel like that’s where you always want him to stay. 

“So, where to first, baby? California ain’t goin’ anywhere, can take as long to get there as we wanna. We’ll go wherever you like, take your pick.” Joel leans across your body to dig a folded up map out of the glove compartment, handing it to you. 

You examine it, your eyes darting across the dozens of dots with the names of cities next to them, some you’ve never even heard of. You point to one that you have heard of, but have never been to, because you’ve never even left the state you grew up in before.

“Um… how about Detroit? I’ve heard it’s nice, I think.”

Joel belly laughs at that. “It ain’t, but sure. You wanna go to Detroit, that’s where we’ll go. Buckle up, baby,” he instructs, patting your thigh. You oblige, and it feels good to finally know where you’re going, and that you’re going there with someone who cares about you, who feels safe, who wants you around. You also feel a little hopeful that maybe you were right about Ruby, after all. That you didn’t start walking for nothing, that you weren’t following some childish delusion, that if something as good as Joel had happened to you when you left, that maybe she had found herself on a similar path, ran into somebody good who took her wherever she wanted to go and helped her find someplace she belonged. Maybe she found her way out to California, eventually. What you are certain of is that neither of you ever have to go back to that town ever again, and that feels good, too.

And if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[lewistoferrari]

study hall [3]

uni student kyle who’s late for his session with you in study hall.

“she’s gonna kill me,” he mutters to himself as he pushes through the double doors, a groan slipping past his lips when he catches your eye.

if looks could kill he’d be dead.

fuck, i’m really in for it now, kyle thinks to himself as the urge to flee increases with each step he takes towards the table you’re occupying.

you really scared the shit out of him sometimes.

one look from you has kyle realizing how much trouble he’s in. you don’t even greet him like you usually do. he quietly dumps his backpack onto the table, while eyeing you warily when you kick his chair away from the table with more force than is necessary.

once he’s seated, kyle has a silent debate with himself. he’s wondering if he should explain his tardiness. but with the way you’re staring at him, he’s not even sure if it matters.

“45 minutes, garrick.”

that’s how late kyle is.

you almost let out a snort when he starts in on his apology right away. “i’m sorry, love. i was—”

but you’re not having any of it.

“save it,” you tell him, your patience finally worn thin. “your communication skills are sorely lacking if you can’t even be bothered to pick up a phone and let me know that you’re running late.”

kyle scowls at your little dig. “look smartass, can we just get this session over with.”

“gladly.” you’ll stop being mad at kyle when he’s no longer in your presence.

you spend the next hour watching kyle talk animatedly while he helps you with your coursework. you have an exam coming up and the class has been kicking your ass lately.

and you’ll never say it out loud—you have no desire to feed his ego—but the more kyle talks, you notice how intelligent he truly is.

no wonder his head is so damn big.

usually when kyle opens his mouth, it’s to utter something that’ll piss you off. he’s the only one who can get under your skin and stay there. you think you might hate professor price for pairing you with kyle, because now you feel like you’re noticing things about him against your will.

you’ve never seen kyle so laser focused, with his nose practically buried in his textbook. you notice the way he talks with his hands whenever he becomes passionate about a certain topic. you do everything you can to ignore the way his brows furrow, and the way he bites his lip when he’s trying to make sense of something.

you close your textbook immediately when you start staring at kyle’s fingers, and the way they grip his textbook. there’s a moment when you think about those same fingers gripping your ass. and you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about kyle’s fingers being anywhere near your pussy either, but you do. you have enough sense to suppress a groan. you shouldn’t be thinking about kyle or his hands. you’re supposed to be hating his ass.

shit.

this is bad.

and to make your situation worse, when you look up, pretty brown doe eyes are staring at you in confusion.

“why are you lookin’ at me like that? is something wrong?” kyle asks.

everything.

“nothing!” you blurt out quickly in a high pitched tone. you try your best to ignore kyle, who’s now looking at you suspiciously, while you shove your belongings into your bag. “i just remembered i have to—”

the shrill tone of your phone ringing interrupts your lie, which is a problem in itself when you see the name on the your screen.

it’s johnny.

not now, you think as you snatch the phone off the table to answer the call. you’re barely paying attention to johnny’s yapping though. you’re too busy staring at kyle, whose demeanor is slowly changing the longer you stay on your phone. your try to wrap the call up as quickly as possible by promising johnny that you’ll be available to help him over the weekend.

“why is soap calling you?” kyle demands as soon as the call ends.

he looks like he wants to throttle someone, but you don’t care.

“wouldn’t you like to know.”

kyle is way too calm for your liking when he asks you if you’re fucking soap.

excuse me?

“i’m not fucking anyone,” you hiss at him, while gathering the rest of your things. “and even if i was, how is that your business? i’m not yours.”

kyle eyes you up and down, “no?”

instead of responding, you walk off. you have every intention on putting as much distance between you and kyle as possible.

he doesn’t let you get far though. there is no warning when he sneaks up on you. with a grip on the back of your neck, kyle steers you to an empty room.

“garrick, what the hell do you think you’re d—”

a pair of soft lips crashing against yours shuts you up immediately.

-

a/n: it took me a minute to get here, but i’m back (i think)

kyle’s masterlist | uni-verse masterlist | main masterlist

[pandorascripts]

Familiar By Thy Side

author yapping: here is part one to the Salem AU! I've decided to make this multi-chaptered because I don't want to rush the bonding that needs to take place. But, for you readers, I have a question.. do I make it Agathario/Reader? It's at a point right now where it totally could be and it would develop naturally, maybe even better. It's up to y'all though! The second chapter is almost done :) Pairings: Agatha Harkness/Reader Warnings: kidnapping, violence, agatha being agatha

Disclaimer: this is the 1700s. THEY WILL SPEAK AS SUCH. no use of thy and it's other forms because I'm too lazy to learn how to use them and they're strictly used in an informal sense. Let me know thoughts, opinions, and if you'd like to be tagged from this point on for this series :) ----------------------------------------------

Agatha’s calloused hands run along Nicky’s sleeping face, her pointer finger gently gliding down his nose. Her time with him is borrowed, she knows, but even if the knowledge is supposed to find her comfort in the inevitability, she can’t deal with it. Death, her lover, will take the one thing that’s truly ever mattered to her – her baby boy. The denial is strong, Agatha needs to stop Rio from doing her job, no matter the cost. It’s why she’s forced to bring Nicky into her scams – why she’s forced to kill so many witches. Agatha needs power to defeat such a vile eldritch horror – to accomplish something no one has ever done. Even now, she’s managed to stall death when no one else could. If Agatha could trade her spot for Nicky’s, she would.

It’s another one of their scams in the morning, Agatha sweeping some dirt out of her temporary home and through the threshold. Nicky comes bolting in, Agatha’s face holding bewilderment as a witch yells out he’s stolen from her. “You dare shame your mother with theft?” she barks out, setting her broom down whilst Nicky darts out of the house and through the back. Agatha makes sure that he’s out of sight before starting to rile up the witches, a shocked gasp leaving her lips when their magick hits her earlier than she expected. Nonetheless, the power rips through her and settles in her bones, a low groan echoing out of her lips. 

When her eyes are open again, Agatha makes eye contact with a young witch, one who hadn’t blasted her with magick. Wordlessly, you stand and watch in horror and confusion at the scene before you. All you had done was try to chase the thief down with a co-worker of yours, not at all expecting this. 

“What is this?” you gasp out, stuttering a couple steps back from Agatha. 

Her hands wrap around the wooden broom once more, jaw tight and lips clenched. You're visible to Nicky in the doorway now, his eyes darting around to take a good look at you. 

Agatha swings the broom down with a yell, forcing as much impact into the swing so it knocks you out. A hard thud echoes across the house, Nicholas barreling to stop Agatha from hurting you again. 

“Mama, wait,” he says quickly, Agatha’s hands immediately dropping the broom before she herself even realizes Nicky’s in front of her. 

“What are you doing, boy?” 

Despite his mother’s hard tone, Nicky feels something – something like his growing magick. There’s a sense he gets about you – your strength, bubbling just under the surface like his is. He can feel it. You’re powerful and you can aid them to stop Death. 

“She’s – she’s powerful, Mama. You can help her like you’ve helped me – then she can help us stop mo – that lady.” 

Agatha clenches her jaw harder, but tries not to show her frustration with him. He’s a sweet boy, curious and full of a zest for life, but he’s naïve. Too naïve. “No, she cannot help. She’s but a young woman – hardly a witch, Nicky. We’d be best to cover tracks and leave this village. Go back outside now.” 

Nicky shakes his head again, holding his mother’s hand when she grabs for the broom again. “Mama, she can. Please, trust in me.” 

Agatha stares down her boy, lips pursed into a thin line, her hand slack on the broom. It falls to the floor as she turns her head, huffing out. “You’ll be fetching that food for her then, and not complaining when she’s given your sleeping arrangements.” 

Agatha couldn’t say why she agreed to this. You’ll harbor a resentment for her, a hatred, and Agatha’s sure that you’ll need to be killed within your first night so there’s no betrayal. When Nicholas smiles that toothy grin of his, face buried in her stomach a moment later, she knows then why she agreed. Of course, Agatha won’t be giving you his sleeping arrangements or forcing him to fetch you food – you’ll do all of those on your own and Agatha will refuse to look out for you. If you die, you die. If you try to leave, she’ll kill you. If you try to hurt her or Nicky, you’ll be killed as well. 

Your first couple nights with the odd duo finds you quietly nursing a migraine, too timid to speak to either one of them – despite Nicky’s attempts to get you to converse with his never-ending chatter. That innocent boy keeps asking to know from where you come from, why you were alone in that village, what type of witch you are, how strong you are – everything is on the table. His mother – the ever-growing infamous witch-killer – is the exact opposite. The glances she gives you tells you she’s watching you, but she’s comfortable enough in either her own skill or in your lack of, that you're not needed to be constantly watched. She’s yet to introduce herself, as you are to them both too, but Nicholas wasn’t shy about it. He seemingly can’t understand how dangerous of a position you’re in – to be this close to a witch-killer, a traitor, a murder, because he can only see his ever-doting mother, Agatha. 

You shift on the leaves under your dirty dress, the woods doing work on the fabrics. You’re not sure when you’ll have access to more clothes again – hell, you’re not even sure when you’ll have access to the world again. 

“Mama, what is it you’ve made for supper?” Nicky asks, drinking out from a small flask that he then hands to his mother again. 

Agatha watches him, her eyes darting over at you with a mean glare before going back to Nicky. “Bread, some turkey too. You must eat the turkey quickly, I lifted it from the last village and am not sure how much longer it may last.” 

Nicky nods his head, murmuring a “thank you” before diving in. Agatha eats her portion, not sparing you a glance. You’ve expected this – even been able to realize Agatha has no care for you being here. This wasn't her idea, but you’re unaware of the circumstances that require you to be imprisoned by her. Regardless, Nicky’s complete innocence and unawareness of this tension between you and his mother results in him splitting off his food to share with you. 

Agatha glares at you from next to Nicky, your stomach growling and begging you to grab the food offered. Simply, Agatha’s mean glare sends shivers up your spine and stops you from even considering grabbing it for another second. You shake your head at the young boy, fiddling with your hands as you stare down in your lap. The sun is starting to set by now, the light-source mainly coming from the campfire Agatha lit with her magic. Your head turns to watch the hues mix in the sky, so akin to the palettes you used to paint on just days ago. Never in your life had you ever thought you’d miss something that used to be so routinely ingrained in your day-to-day life. 

Nicky looks at his mom before back down at his food, eyebrows pressed together and lips thinned – an expression you’ve seen his mother do countless times over these past couple days. It’s been some time now and she’s yet to introduce herself, which is the least she could do considering the situation she’s forced you into. With a slow blink, fighting a yawn and tears, you stand up and walk over to a tree just a few feet out. Your small shawl is used as a pillow, legs scrunched together so your body is like a ball, and you keep your back to them. The thought that this doesn’t suit your preservation is fleeting, being replaced by a hope that maybe the witch killer will live up to her name with you. 

The night passes and you do actually wake up, waking up in fact to Nicky’s mother watching you. Your head turns to look for the boy, oddly enough, but you can’t spot him at all. Tightening your jaw for a moment, you search again within your immediate vision – nothing. The words leave your lips before you can even think about the repercussions. 

“Where’s Nicky?” 

Agatha shifts from a couple feet away, a blank look on her face. “Nicholas.” 

“What?” You give her an incredulous look, blinking a quick couple times as you watch her fix up her hair. 

“His name is Nicholas to you.” 

Silence suffocates you, just as much as confusion. Why was it such a big deal to her? It was a stupid name, in fact, if names mattered so much to her then why hadn’t she asked for yours yet. Alongside that, why hadn’t she introduced herself to you either? Shrugging mentally, which was definitely paired with an outward huff, you look at the dirt beneath your fingertips. They reach into the soil, your body tingling as you feel connection to the Earth around you. You keep them buried in the dirt, enjoying the warmth it provides before she speaks up. 

“Agatha.” 

Your head snaps. “Excuse me?” “My name. That’s what it is, since you’ve been complaining about your lack of knowing.” 

There’s a nod of your head, face red with embarrassment. Telepathic abilities, alongside siphoning? What else is she harboring? 

“Nothing you’ll find out. You’re not going to be with us for long.” 

Again, your head shoots over to look at her, a sneer on your face. “Out of my mind, witch.” 

“Using the term, but are you not also one?” “I am not a traitor, though.” 

“And what? That simply makes you better? How? You’ve no prior knowledge of what’s led me down this road – what’s led me to take action how I have. You judge without knowing, that is a crime truly more damaging than killing some odd hundreds of mediocre witches.” If her tone is anything to indicate, she’s pissed. You know this, your mind trying to fortify itself from her invasions. 

“You may relax, I don’t tend to dive into the minds of those who are inadequate. There’s nothing there they won’t speak – bigotry, fallacies, and lies.” 

Agatha, as you now know, is brutal in describing her picture of you. There’s not enough time for you to respond even if you had planned to, Nicky – Nicholas jogging into the small clearing. 

“Boy, you were gone too long.” 

“I am sorry, mama, but look at what I’ve made for you,” he says happily, completely missing how his mother is on the brink of homicide. In his hands is a delicate, messy, chunky crown crafted from daisies and other sorts of flowers. They do not go with Agatha’s outfit, her eyes, her glowing skin, or even her deep hair. Agatha looks at it as if it’s a crown fit for the queen. 

“Do you like it?” 

“Oh, Nicky, my love, it is divine. How is it you’ve managed to craft this beauty from such dainty flowers?” 

“Mama, you’re quite the jester this day,” he laughs out, sitting down to rest the back of his head in Agatha’s lap. 

You watch from a bit out, eyes flickering between the son and his mother. At one point, you and your mother had been like that – inseparable, bonded, attached. You can’t really remember the fine points of her face now. 

The conversation and laughs are muffled by your loud heartbeat, which has started to echo in your ears. It’s all-consuming, taking you hostage as you focus on it. With it come memories from before this, your life you lived happily and contently. The one that Agatha ripped away from you. Technically, yes, it was the boy’s fault, but he knew no better. There was nothing but pure child's optimism for his future, the truth about his mother’s treatment of witches slipping his mind. You hadn’t eaten in days now, your body angry and fatigued. 

“Girl, are you listening?” Agatha snaps out, your head moving to face her just as fast as lightning. 

“Apologies?” 

“Good lord.” She pauses to groan softly, Nicky scolds her as her flower crown tips off her head when it drops. “We leave at sundown and travel to the next road in the night. Day time is too popular an opportunity, so we’ll make haste for the river, hours before the next town.”

“What is the town?”

“Salem.”

Your jaw is tightly wound together, wide eyes glaring at Agatha. With a soft shake of your head, which metaphorically shakes off the memories of your brief time in Salem, you speak up. “No, I refuse to travel to that wretched town. Salem will kill us all, how do you not see?” “I’ve lived and breathed Salem many years, you’ll do fine. Long as you stick with the boy and I without speaking your insipid mind,” Agatha spits out, annoyed by you making this more complicated. “We are doing nothing but passing through for a few days. The trials have mainly migrated out of Salem and went southern.” 

“The risk is not worth wherever you long to be. I will not journey with you.” 

You’re sure you’ll be killed by Agatha, right here and right now for your clear disobedience. Alongside that sure reality, you’re positively aware that you’ll die trying to get back to your town. The way is lost on you, completely unfamiliar with the route Agatha has stuck you and Nicholas on. Your thoughts are losing volume, an awkward haze taking over you. Surrounding your vision is a small cloud of purple, one that mimics the colors in Agatha’s usually blue eyes.

[sashi-ya]

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝙳𝚛. 𝙸𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚄𝚛𝚢𝚞 uryu's birthday drabble ⋆ mdni nsfw +18 ⋆ semi public, oral

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ happy birthday, Ishida-kun! 𓂃⋆.˚

The rug material sucks; why does this thing have to be here? it carves into your knees; it’s starting to itch. Ah, but the sweet caress on your head coming from Dr. Ishida’s hand makes it everything better.

You shouldn’t make much noise; in fact, you shouldn’t be hiding underneath his desk… why the hell these doctors had to visit his office right now?

His hardness is noticeable, it protrudes from his pants. Your hand slides up, slowly, in complete silence. You shouldn’t do this, or else you are gonna make Dr. Uryuu blush.

But you can’t help it; you went there with a single purpose… celebrate the Dr’s birthday. And nothing, nor nobody will stop you from doing so. If he got “very busy” enough to go back home later than expected, then his surprise must be received in here.

You nuzzle on his thigh, inhaling the scent of his neat trousers. Everything so clean, so perfectly ironed… fabric you wish to stain, to shrivel, to ruin. A kiss on his leg, only makes his pants tent bigger… “Ah, are you getting excited Dr. Ishida?”

Uryuu starts bouncing his leg, as he fights to stay serious while a bunch of med interns yap about the cases they’ve been assigned. His hand, that hangs down the desk, tries to sign you to stop in a desperate attempt for you not to continue with the following step of this sexual torture; reaching his sex, that’s been almost freed, as you were lowering his zipper right before they arrived.

Wet, completely dampened in precum, is how you found his boxer briefs. Poor man, what have he done to suffer this faith?! “Let me fix it for you, Dr. Ishida…”

“Very well; that should do for the day, why don’t you all take some time off? Patients have been all -ngh-. Excuse me…” Uryu gets interrupted by your lips finally surrounding his sex; he tries to cover it up with a cough but there is no way he could cover the blush on his usually pale cheeks.

“Are you ok, Dr. Ishida?” an intern, who happens to be one of those annoying females that surrounds your man on a daily basis, asks. She decides to stay, even if the rest have already left the office.

You focus your tongue on his tip; “tell her how good you are feeling, Ishida-kun, come on!”

“AH- yes. Sorry! I’m just tired!” Uryu excuses himself once more, fixing his glasses, getting closer to his desk, trying to normalize his breathing.

“Oh! Can I do something for you, Dr. Ishida?” she insists, and you suck harder. Adding now your hand around his shaft.

Uryuu takes a deep breath; he knows this could go two possible ways, one he resists or cums right in front of a subordinate. The you stopping doesn’t enter the equation, in fact is the only thing that won’t change but rather increase…

“No, I am married man” he finally snaps, feeling the smirk on your lips forming around his dick.

“I- no- I’m sorry…” the girl whispers, leaving soon the office. Uryuu finally looks down; you are enjoying this more than anyone else perhaps.

“Stop. Stand Up. Turn around” he commands, hitting the desk. And you know he will finish the job you started.

“Yes, Dr. Ishida. Claim your birthday gift ~” you obey.

[iceandpeaches]

head counsellor duties; luke castellan

a/n: i've been away so long i feel kinda bad but i've so busy.. anyway here's something that has been sitting in my drafts

pairing: luke castellan x demigod reader (godly parent unspecified)

as the eldest, first to be claimed and head counsellor of your cabin, you were tasked with the responsibility of taking care of your younger siblings. and to your acquired knowledge, you were definitely not your parent’s favourite. you felt that your claiming was so your other siblings had a big sister to depend on. your cabin was empty till your parent started claiming your half siblings, your heart growing heavy from all the burden you felt. from then on, your cabin bustled with noise almost every second of the day which honestly gave you a bit of a headache. but anything for your siblings, right?

“rae! could you help me this?”

you nodded, hands now holding the item your sibling needed help with. it takes you some time to figure out but eventually you solve it. you hand it back to your sibling, which leaves her excited and now embracing you tightly. your arms wrap around her small figure, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

“you’re the best, rae!”

“thanks, i try to be.”

you smile, the young girl pulling away and running off to her other siblings. you let a sigh leave your lips as you pinched the bridge of your nose, wishing you had an older sibling to look up to. 

“you holding up okay, rae?”

the familiar male voice made your lips curl into a gentle yet tired looking smile, watching as he sat down beside you. his expression grows weary of your own, wearing a frown on his face as he examines the frustration that was evident to your face.

“i’m alright luke, you?”

luke patted your back, you leaning into his touch. luke understood the pressures of being head counsellor, but seeing your dark circles and tired figure made him worry about you tenfold. in comparison to his cabin, the campers in yours were no older than 11; so he understood the need for your siblings to depend on you the most they could, at least until they were more independent. 

“what activity do you have next?”

“sword fighting training, with risse.”

“so, you’ll be free then?”

“one of my kids needs my help since they're a little too small to be on their own, unfortunately. why?”

luke frowned, he knew that after more of your siblings got claimed; the lesser time you had to just be alone. the lesser time he had to spend with you as well, but he never gave up on trying. 

“well.. i was thinking, maybe we could.. you know, go pick strawberries together?”

“i’d have to bring my kids along, you know. they can’t stand a second without me.”

“they’ll be with clarisse rae, i’m sure they’ll be fine.”

you huff, nodding slowly. you got up from the bench you were sat at, rounding up your siblings then escorted them to sword fighting training with luke following by you. you hum, watching as your siblings interacted with the hermes counsellor; lips curled into a grin. you both were close, but never were more than that. once your siblings were with clarisse, luke whisked you away to the strawberry fields.

for a while, you two picked strawberries in dead silence. you needed the quiet after hearing your siblings fight and scream at each other. and luke desperately wanted to talk to you and yap your ears off in hopes to make you feel a little better. luke stopped picking the crimson berries, his basket lowered and now watching you; which made you stop too.

“what’s wrong, luke? unwell? injury? need a tissue? fever?” 

you frown, the back of your hand already pressed against his forehead. luke shook his head, gently holding your hand and putting it down. he wasn’t surprised by your reaction, that’s was part of their duty as head counsellor.

“i’m okay rae. i just.. hope you are too.”

his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you leaning into him; a sigh leaving your lips. you felt him rubbing your shoulder, eyes peeking up to look at him. 

“were your siblings like this too? clingy and overly dependent?”

“they look up to you, rae. you’re their big big sister after all. plus, it gets better when they get older. they’re all what.. 9? 10? they’re gonna grow up to do fine, rae.”

“i wish i wasn’t though. i’d be fine being second, but not first. they expect me to bounce back from the pain immediately, i wish they knew how much i hate it.”

luke pursed his lips, nodding at appropriate junctions; brows knitted in focus as he listened you speak. he hummed, hand moving to touch your silky hair. you let your mind wander, imagining a life where you weren’t head counsellor of your cabin – running around the fields, sword fighting with clarisse almost everyday and maybe even swimming in the lake at night. but you had to be the responsible head counsellor, stripped of all these desires. 

luke’s lips met with your forehead, glancing up at him; heat staining your cheeks. you gently pull away to look at him, to admire his chiselled features. your lips pursed as you admired, attentively observing him. 

“what? something on my face?”

you giggled, slowly shaking your head; glancing down at the discoloured ‘camp half blood’ printed on his shirt due to how old it was. he ran a hand through his curly locks, your arms moving to his waist bringing him into a tight embrace; which caught him off guard.

“woah woah dove, at least tell me first.”

he chuckled, bringing her in and hugging you tight. he could get used to this, if he were to admit. 

“i’m just gonna.. stay like this for a bit.”

“people are gonna start looking, dove.”

“since when did you care?”

“hmm, i do. don’t knock me down though.”

you giggle, ruffling his brown curls. 

“okay. enough hugging please.”

you both pull away, his arm now wrapped around your waist. you grab your basket half filled with red berries, continuing to pick more of the vibrant berries. one of the ares campers ran over to you, telling you that your siblings were asking for you. you nodded, shoving your basket of berries into luke’s chest.

“gods, i’ll see you later luke.”

luke leaned in and kissed your cheek, you frozen and unable to react; blinking in confusion and luke watching your reaction. a chuckle left his lips as he rubbed your shoulder, 

“go get your siblings, rae. they’re waiting.”

you snapped out of it, nodding vigorously while still being in a daze from the earlier interaction. you hoped your siblings didn’t see. 

“right right. see you later.”

you smile, running off to the training ground to gather your siblings. the young campers were excited to see you, all running up to you and hugging your arm and some your leg. they were mostly about as tall as your torso, with the exception of a few of the boys being slightly taller than the others. your lips curl into a gentle smile, mumbling a headcount under your breath to ensure all of their alive and well. you lead your siblings back to your cabin, putting some of them down for a well needed nap which was suggested by some of the apollo kids at the infirmary. for the younger ones, at least. 

“okay, the rest of you. don’t get yourselves in trouble, okay? it’s free time for all of you, go find your friends to play with. i’ll be with the other counsellors if any of you need to find me.”

the group of older children nodded, running out of the cabin after permission was granted to them. phew, finally some time to yourself. you sat on a step outside your cabin, watching as your siblings played with other campers in the distance. you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction, you just loved them so much; you'd kill a minotaur for them. 

“there you are, gods.. i’ve been looking all over camp for you.”

you grin, turning to the direction of the voice. luke once again sat by you, gently leaning his head on your shoulder; his curls tickling your neck.

“tired already, castellan?”

his eyes glanced up at you, looking sleepy yet energetic at the same time. you grin, gently running your hand through his soft yet tangled hair. you definitely needed to recommend him a conditioner and maybe some other hair products, but it’s fine. that would be a later you’s problem. a hand of luke’s was set on your knee, nose scrunched as you continued to watch your siblings play. you imagined a life away from camp, preferably in the countryside; with two kids and possibly luke as your husband. 

“hug.. please?”

you heard luke say, your brows furrowed and eyes squinted. luke’s eyes dilated, his pupils now huge. you giggle, slipping your arms under his and pulling him close. you were so close to his chest, that you smelled the musky firewood smell of cabin 11. it smelled so warm and comforting. it was a scent you definitely could get used to, reminding you of times when your mortal parent would roast marshmallows with you in the early days of your time at camp. 

“you know i could easily get used to this, castellan.”

“i could too, dove.”

you hum, glanced up at luke’s lips, then back at him. in that moment, you felt your imaginations come to life.

[freyito]

ʜᴀɴᴋᴇʀɪɴ' ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ in which: boothill's been quiet since he came back from penacony. way too quiet.

✧ a/n: little by little im chipping away at my depressive episode and building my motivation again

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, 2.6 spoilers, mention of torture, hurt/comfort, not proofread

✎ wc: 2.4k

Ever since his most recent trip to Penacony, Boothill had been spacing out more when he got home. He insisted, very firmly, that you stay at home this time, leaving no room for any discussion. You were to stay home no matter what, and if he found you had tried to sneak out, even to the town, there would be words to be had. He was never this demanding, and he never barred you from going out. Yet when he told you, there was a certain look in his eyes. Fear. Something so rare within him that it made you obey without a word of protest. Now that he is back, he hasn’t been as energetic as you’re used to. In fact, he had practically stayed glued to the couch. 

You could poke and prod at him and he wouldn’t so much as smirk, and you hadn’t even gotten so much of a squeak out of him aside from why he had left in the first place. Despite his victory, he was just… quiet. You wake up to him staring at the ceiling, chewing on his lip. Even though he doesn’t necessarily need sleep, he’s always cuddling up to you when you go to sleep. So when you wake up next to him (quite a rare sight), it’s odd.

Not just that, but you notice he spends an oddly long time gazing out over the plains that surround your house, nearly unphased when you poke and squeeze at his cheeks. It’s not that he is entirely silent the whole time, but his words are few and far between. You can’t remember the last time he’d been so lost in thought.

After the third day, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. It was fine if he didn’t want to talk about it (though you are certain it would help), but you were starting to miss Boothill’s voice, or the silly things he would do. So, you catch him on the couch while he’s charging, deciding to lay on top of him. Cheek to cheek, you press into him with a smile.

“Hi,” You say simply. Boothill doesn’t react much, looking up at you with his eye and a small grin.

“Hey, darlin’,” He responds, his voice quiet.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“Mh, nothin’,” Boothill sighs, shifting awkwardly just a little beneath you. You raise your eyebrow, and he sighs, admitting defeat so easily. “Okay. Thinkin’ about a lot.”

“Care to share?”

“I dunno sugar, it’s kinda heavy,”

“Heavy is the cost.”

A silence stretches between the two of you, as Boothill ruminates over whether or not to share what’s on his mind. You lean further into him, draping yourself over him like a blanket, even though he wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable person to lay on. You weren’t going to say it out loud, and you have spent hours on him before, so it wasn’t necessarily a problem. There were days where his body was the most wonderful thing to lay on, when he had been lounging in the sun and you had been unbearably cold for Aeons knows what reason. In moments like those, he was like your own space heater.

“Well, I mean, there was a lot goin’ on in Penacony, and all these mind games, and…” Boothill sighs, his body relaxing slightly as he pulls an arm out from under you and slings it over your waist. “Got to rememberin’ a lot of things. Stuff I ain’t exactly keen on thinkin’ about. Now I can’t stop.”

“Do you think telling me about it would help?” You purse your lips, blinking at him inquisitively. 

“Haven’t I yapped enough? I swear you ask me about all o’ this at least once a week,” He pokes at your side, causing you to squirm and yelp, before he takes hold of your waist and readjusts both of you, so he’s sitting up and cradling you in his lap. “Gonna make me talk til my jaw falls off, you know that?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, darlin’,” Boothill smiles, something gentle despite his normally cocky grin. “I know you mean well. You’re the only one I like talkin’ to about this stuff, anyways.”

You tilt your head, silently asking him to continue. For a moment he doesn’t get the hint, raising his brow and chewing on his lip. He’s always been avoidant of such topics like the past, not that you could squeeze much out of him regardless. The most he let you know was of his family, specifically why he held a grudge against the IPC, and who he held a grudge against. Not to mention, he doesn’t enjoy talking things out much. He enjoys venting whatever’s gnawing at him in other ways, such as shooting. Still, he always seems to relent when you ask…

“Ah! Uhm, well…” He wraps both his arms around you, finally sitting up. He readjusts, making sure you’re seated comfortably in his lap. “They got me thinkin’ about when I was a kid… Well, more than that, really. Hard to explain.”

“I can listen all day. I like your voice.” You reply smugly.

“I– That’s not what I meant…” He chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head. “It was like a… hm. Felt like the kind of stuff the IPC had done to me when they caught me.”

Suddenly, you don’t know how to react. Your flirty demeanor drops, and so does your smile. Part of you didn’t think it’d be this kind of conversation. While he said it was heavy, you really didn’t think it’d be on the same level. Boothill sighs, patting your back lightly at your reaction.

“It ain’t that bad. I’m back home now, right? All in one piece.” He consoles, his voice just a tinge softer than before.

“Yeah, but–”

“It didn’t do much to me, really. Just got me thinkin’,” He shrugs so nonchalantly, like torture is something he’s used  to. “You asked, right? Lemme continue.”

With a huff, you concede. He strokes through your hair leisurely at your complacence, taking another moment to enjoy the quiet moment. As if what he was about to explain wasn’t something as terrifying as torture.

“It was somethin’ goin’ on with Dr. Primitive. Or at least, someone who aspired to be like him. Really odd thing, actually. With these monkeys and bananas, people wanted to become one. People were becoming one. Freaky, really. I mean, the things were cute n’ all… Not the point.” He takes a deep breath, “Some sort of induction… they… I don’t know how they did it, but they were able to bring back some sort of past version of me…? Took almost everything from me, voice, hearing, colors, sight, anger… they took it all. And suddenly, I felt like I was a kid again.”

The silence continues, while you ponder if anything you’ll say will be right, or okay. There’s not much you can think of to say, without sounding out of place. Dr. Primitive was one thing, and something horrifying at that, but the monkeys threw you off. Furthermore, what Boothill had described made your body feel… cold. It felt like it was one step away from wiping his memory completely. 

“What’s with that look?” He chuckles, shaking off the heavy air so easily. “You asked me to tell you, right?”

“Yeah…” You sigh. It’s still quite hard to wrap your mind around such things, but you do your best to ignore it.

“Now you sound all sad. C’mon, I’m alive, ain’t I? Plus, I think I do feel a little better now that I think about it…”

His voice tapers off at the end, before pursing his lips as if he was thinking. Again. Before you can ask him what else he’s got on his mind, his eyes light up. Without so much as a grunt, he picks you up and sets you down on the floor. 

“Here, actually, I think I’ve figured out somethin’,” He says, placing a hand on the small of your back as he leads you to the front door. He makes no further effort to explain what he meant, simply choosing to lead you off with a smile.

As he opens the door, light spills into the cabin. The land looks practically golden, you’ve forgotten just how beautiful the plains are at sunset. When you two step out on the porch, a light breeze greets you, wading through the grass. Boothill lets out another chuckle, before stepping off the porch. He stands still for a moment, appreciating the art of the world, the way the wind whispered across the grass, the birds in the distance and their song, and finally, he lets out a content sigh.

“Can’t say it’s as beautiful as Aeragan-Epharshel, but…” He begins, looking back at you for a moment, waving you closer. “It’s close enough…”

“What do you mean?” You finally take a step down off the porch. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer with an even bigger smile.

“All that work they did, well it gave me a hankerin’ for the past,” He takes a deep breath, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “Don’t like thinkin’ about it too much cause then I miss it even more.”

He cocks his head down at you, before his hand slides from your waist to your own, interlocking fingers. They’re not cold, for once, about body temperature. Perhaps that’s what you get for laying on top of him. He starts to lead you through the grass, his other hand gliding over the soft blades, sometimes grabbing at one just for the fun of it. However, there’s a certain sadness pulling at his face, his stride, even. He’s quiet for another minute, before he stops.

“It’s odd only feelin’ the wind in my hair.” He states, allowing nature to fill the silence once more.

“Boothill…” You mutter, reluctantly wiggling your hand out of his, reaching up to cup his cheek instead.

“It’s okay, sugar, I don’t need any pity,” Despite his words, he leans into your touch so easily, eyes fluttering closed. “Just… expressin’ myself.” After a beat, he opens his eyes and looks back out on the landscape, sighing softly. “I miss all the mischief I’d get into. After I’d finished my work on the ranch, I’d… run off somewhere, mostly off to the town. I’d get into all sorts of trouble just to keep myself from gettin’ bored. So I could get a chance to run through the fields again.”

He turns to you with a somber look in his eyes, as if he’d tear up. Not that he could, he’d lost that function long ago. His hands fall to your waist, gripping gently at the fabric of your shirt.

“There’s nothin’ quite like that feelin’. Runnin’ through the fields, the wind in your hair, stingin’ your cheeks and fingers, heart beatin’ fast as you find somewhere to hide…” He continues. Again, his voice wavers, and he swallows. He does his best to hold off on his own sadness, something he hadn’t allowed himself to properly feel for Aeons knows how long. “I guess I sorta get it still… bein’ wanted ‘n’ all… but it ain’t the same. It ain’t never been the same since…”

He ducks his head, the wind causing his hair to obscure his face. His hat dips, and you raise your hand to catch it. You don’t know what else to do. You haven’t seen Boothill this sad, ever. He’s always so rowdy and practically radiant, and yet now he’s dour, forcing himself to get his words through. He sniffles, then lets out a choked sound that goes straight to your heart. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in close and squishing your face against his chest. The minute your arms meet his body, he mirrors the gesture. He practically crumbles in your arms, knees buckling as if he were flesh and bone, sliding down in your arms until his knees are planted firmly in the ground beneath you. In turn he presses his ear to your chest, listening to the gentle sound of your beating heart. At this, he grasps your shirt so tightly, pulling you impossibly closer, letting out another whine.

You pet through his hair, doing your best to still your own thoughts. Not only have you never seen Boothill sad before, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so… weak. Especially on the topic of his past. He could always speak of Clementine, of Nick and Gray, even of his hatred for the IPC with such confidence. Never once did his voice break, did his scowl turn into a frown. His body is wracked with shudders, biting his lip to quiet his sobs.

You two stay like that for a couple of more minutes, Boothill clinging onto you for dear life while you did your best to comfort him, scratching at his scalp and shushing him gently, whispering all sorts of cliche things to calm him down. Eventually, he finally lets up, with a soft breath. His grip weakens on your clothes, and he stands up. When he does, you card your fingers through his hair, moving his bangs from his face. He can’t help but let out a weak chuckle, allowing you to enjoy the feeling.

“M’sorry honey,” He mutters, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Didn’t mean to get all gloomy like that.”

“It’s fine, really,” You smile, your fingers lingering in his hair, before pulling away. “I think you needed it.”

“I… probably,” He sighs, “Just got too caught up in… all of this.”

Still, he nudges you, hand finding yours once more. He squeezes it, before leading you back to the cabin. The wind started to bite, the sun just peaking over the horizon as the sky went from orange and pink, to pink and purple. The clouds waned, the stars just barely visible as you two walked back. The silence is comfortable now, a small smile tugging at Boothill’s lips. He opens the door for you, taking one last look at the plains, before stepping in and closing the door.

“I’ll make dinner, then,” He says triumphantly, clearly feeling lighter than before. “As an apology. For makin’ you see me like that.”

“You don’t have t–”

“I want to, sugar. Let me? Please?” He cocks his head to the side, his smile turning gentler.

You wouldn’t fight it, either way. Despite how much he’s enjoyed literal bullets and oil, you wouldn’t dare stop him from cooking. He was like an angel, really, almost terrifyingly good in the kitchen. While you wanted to say that he didn’t have to apologize, if his cooking was on the line, you’ve found no choice but to concede.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[gingeraleluke]

hey babes :) if you’re taking requests, could you do a jackie and steven hyde type of thing but with vinnie x reader?? i just love them sm ;(

𝗵𝘆𝗱𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗲

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: hyde!vinnie x jackie!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: “i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings.”

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: ENEMIES TO LOVERS!! angst, fluff, 70’s!bad boy!stoner!mean!vinnie (he’s hyde, duh), very brief drinking/marijuana use, offensive language (it’s the 70’s), cheating, some sexual content, light violence, typical that 70’s show behaviors!! spoilers for that 70’s show

𝗔/𝗡: SUPER LONG! this is literally just a bunch of hyde and jackie scenes, except with reader and vinnie inserted (some things are different obviously to keep it more original & entertaining but pretty much the same) and i kept the characters from that 70’s show and everything else the same so if you haven’t watched that 70’s show, you’ll probably be confused -> ps: since everyone calls steven by his last name in the show, so vinnie gets called hacker a lot in this!

you can also read the old kelso!vinnie fic i wrote here

this is a request that i got two years ago before i went on break. since i am a huge that 70’s show fan and steven hyde obsessed (fuck the actor), i just couldn’t help myself from writing so much.

i had a lot more planned for this but since it’s thanksgiving, i figured i’d leave it there, so let me know if you want a part two! i love and missed you guys <3 i hope you enjoy!

wondering where ive been and why it took so long? click here. 🩷

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

── ★ ˙ ̟𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦 ──

“he’s better than you in every conceivable way.” the confidence was staggering in her voice but she was speaking faster than she was thinking, and she’d be damned if michael got the last laugh.

sure, every girl dreamed of prom, but not like y/n did. in fact, y/n would honestly cease to function, burn out and die if she didn’t get the magical romantic night that she had been planning ever since she could walk. if she could she’d get her daddy to pay off michael to just stop being such an idiot and take her to prom instead, but as always her father was busy and frankly no where to be found. maybe a simple phone call his way would work, but than again she’d already opened her mouth and once y/n starts yapping, she can’t just stop.

her father would most likely go on about how poor and dumb the kelso’s were and insist she bring someone else to be arm candy for— and then she’d go on her ‘but daddy, i love him’ speech for the millionth time— the nonsensical idea was still better than sitting there and acknowledging the mess that she was making with her statements, but could you blame her?

i mean, pam macey? seriously? it was almost offensive that that was what micheal was so giddy suddenly about. if he wants to take that slut to the prom, than so be it.

y/n y/l/n could do better than her mediocre ex —michael kelso, anyways.

it is her world at the end of the day and everyone else was just living in it. a date to prom shouldn’t be hard to find. a girl like that is someone you’d be a fool not to be bending over backwards for.

once michael exclaimed how ‘that could be anybody’ before bursting out of donna’s front door, she knew she’d got him right where she wanted him. she loved making kelso feel like an idiot, especially when he was one (which was a lot).

her satisfied grin was quickly replaced with a pout as she gazed down at the fake fruit in the bowl center of the counter she sat at, analyzing her brain for any ideas as to what she was going to do.

she wasn’t sure what led her to the spot beside vinnie on the couch of eric foreman’s basement, but once she was seated there, she immediately began sighing absentmindedly while pretending to watch the movie on the small tv in front of them.

hacker’s legs were up on the table, his signature boots beside discarded objects scattered along the surface and his face didn’t seem to move a muscle at the girl beside him. breathing in again, she let out a louder sigh, her behavior and noises progressively becoming more dramatic and less easy to ignore.

time seemed to slow down when finally, arms still crossed, vinnie sucked his teeth and hesitantly replied, eyes glued to the screen.

“y/n, if i ask you what’s wrong will you stop doing that?”

the girl threw up her hands, defeatedly—“it’s the prom. stupid michael is taking stupid pam macey and now i don’t have a date, but i told him i did, and im a complete loser.” huffing, she mirrored vinnie, crossing her arms against her chest.

she was met with immediate laughter from the tattooed boy. still looking ahead, his chuckles grew, up until he saw the girl beside him staring at him, distraught with the most pathetic look on her face. quickly clearing his throat, he feined a smile and replied with “no you’re not!”

body language still clearly dying for this moment to be over and for the smaller girl to leave, she continued on. “it’s just that…i thought that he was gonna ask me, and now anyone who’s anyone is going, and i don’t have a date.”

“you’re right, i heard it was gonna be fun.” he claimed, sarcasm completely flying under the girls radar.

“how would you know, you’re not even going?!” the realization hit her. shocked, she put her hands to her face, making eye contact with vinnie for the first time since she arrived in the basement.

“you’re not going, oh my god. you don’t have a date…..and i bet you’d clean up nice!” she smirked. he could practically see the gears turning in her head and adjusted his focus back to the tv.

“i do. but i won’t.” he deadpanned, hoping she’d just leave it there.

but did rich, spoiled, princess y/n y/l/n ever just ‘leave it there?’ of course not!

“look, i know we’ve had our differences—“ she shifted, moving towards vinnie and putting a hand on his arm to garner more of his attention, hoping he’d take her seriously if he saw how upset she was.

“y/n, we’ve had nothing but differences. in fact, don’t we kind of hate each other?” he dismissed her, pointing out the obvious that she had purposefully been avoiding.

it was true, y/n and vinnie never got along. why would they? he was a poor misfit who was covered in tattoos and only ever cared about weed and had a fate for either dying alone or in prison— while she was a rich girl, born with a name for herself, constantly striving to be the center of attention and doing whatever she could to achieve her goals— although it felt like it more so followed her around since everything was always just so easy with her.

nothing was ever easy with hacker.

“yes, but this is the prom!” she sobbed, clutching onto him and leaning into his chest, feeling the fabric of his jacket shifting below her as he centered himself.

“y/n…come on. stop!” he demanded gently, the girl a bundled mess in his lap, continuing to cry and while some of it was hysterics, real tears were threatening to spill at the thought of not having a date. “oh, come on..” she had him right where she wanted him, “look, do you wanna go to the prom?!” he snapped, the softness leaving his voice.

“yes.” she composed herself, watching him roll his eyes while he leaned over to rest his head against his hand. while his attention was back on the television, y/n’s presence stayed.

“thank you.” she fixed her hair, watching the grimace appear on his face in response to what he had just done, or more so agreed to do.

“yeah, yeah. shut up.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

wearing a long, purple dress and hair done up with white flowers, y/n stood at her dates door. the fabric flowed beautifully on her as if she was a painting and a part of her was excited to see michael’s reaction to it.

if only he’d been my date.

vinnie’s mom had been yelling profanities from inside their house while he had been trying to slip away to meet y/n. the girl could hear the older woman reciting ‘carrie’ quotes from behind the walls when he finally emerged from behind the door.

“SHUT UP, MA! YOU’RE MAKING THE NIGHT TOO DAMN SPECIAL!” he called back, opening the glass door and smiling at y/n as if he wasn’t just shouting back at his mother. the door slammed and he stood before the girl, a box in his hands, wearing a suit that matched hers. ruffles of the same purple color from her dress, adorned his toned chest, hidden under a large velvet bow tie. “wow, you look beautiful.”

his words had caught her off guard, the sincerity in his voice snapping her back from her thoughts. “you too.” it was true, he did. y/n never thought she’d see the day where vinnie hacker wore anything even remotely elegant, much less a tailored matching suit. she became nervous, and fiddled with her fingers beneath the sheer gloves she wore. “should—do you want me to say hi to your..?”

“oh no, trust me. shes lovely.” he quickly guided her down the steps of his house, “let’s just go, alright?”

a sigh left his lips while the box he held caught her eye as it shimmered in the moonlight. “is that for me?” she pointed, watching him outstretch his hands to give it to her.

“oh, uh…yeah.”

“oh my god, vinnie. this is beautiful.” she grasped the box wrapped in golden paper, seeing the corsage peeking through the window of it. “you know, this whole thing has taught me that i really don’t need michael to go to the prom. i can go with anyone…even you.” she licked her lips, tasting her strawberry and kiwi lip gloss before leaning in. “thanks.”

what vinnie assumed was gonna be a hug, was instead a chaste kiss to his cheek. bewildered by the sudden and foreign intimacy, they backed away from each other before the boy spoke up.

“yeah let’s not do that.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“look, you wanna be with her and she wants to be with you so how about you quit acting like a baby, man up and go be with each other!” vinnie took a swing of the punch he had poured, “cause this whole thing sickens me!” grimacing and brushing off kelso, until the lanky boy made his way to y/n’s table, momentarily forgetting about pam macey, his date.

vinnie had spent the prom beside his date, showing little to no enthusiasm but just enough to keep her on her feet. he posed for photos with her, constantly belittled pam’s appearance for her (despite it being all lies), and even slow danced with the girl, but it was no use. her body was sending noiseless complaints and groans of misery while she stared longingly at her ex boyfriend, who was staring back just as much as her despite the blonde woman in his arms. vinnie made his way to get y/n some punch when michael approached him, pulling out the ‘bros before hoes’ card and exclaiming ‘how could you’s?!’ after going on about how he thought him and vinnie were friends, the boy in purple finally interrupted, explaining his actions with a simple ‘she was crying, man!’

he maneuvered his way into the open seat beside pam macey, her face as blank and thoughtless as ever. quickly pulling out a pick up line along the lines of ‘let’s get out of here and have sex in a car’, he ushered her out of the building. looking back once more at y/n who was already chipper at the sight of michael beside her, leaning in and kissing him on the dance floor, vinnie adjusted his tie and droned out the blondes chatter as he followed.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

── ★ ˙ ̟𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 ──

eric, fez, and vinnie were seated in the foreman’s basement when y/n burst through the door with jagged, weak breaths. she ran all the way there with barely an idea as to what she was going to do, all she knew was that she had to find eric.

“eric, i just saw michael kissing your sister! okay, he’s a rat! he’s been cheating on me!” she struggled to keep her calm while the three boys gazed up at her, vinnie’s gaze more apathetic than the other two boys.

“what? no!” eric pretended to be surprised while continuing to shuffle cards mindlessly. he was in the middle of a game, vinnie and fez still holding their cards in hand. everyone but y/n and donna knew about kelso’s affair with eric’s sister. it was like a bomb just waiting to drop. he’d continuously complain to the group about how difficult it was juggling two girls at once and was constantly trying to make it work until he realized he needed to end it with laurie.

fez’s curiosity at y/n’s words were peaked and he shifted towards her, just waiting for the moment to come to the rescue. “surely there must be some kind of mistake!” eric lowered his cards and his voice was laced with a humorous undertone that made y/n feel like she was completely out of the loop. “right guys!?” he slapped vinnie on the chest, hitting his sweater while he sat there mouth agape.

“wow..sure is a mind blower!” it was the same fake voice that vinnie used when he spoke to y/n kindly. if it wasn’t some backhanded comment, it was meaningful criticism being hurled at her— his distain in the girl was apparent at all times. the same voice he used when he had to respond to red and kitty about weed and the dangers of it. fake enthusiasm.

“does that mean you and kelso are over?” fez stood up, letting the cards land on the table. y/n took in his puzzled appearance, “yes!”

“like…by over you mean..?”

“forever! i never wanna see him again, fez! this is way more than just taking pam macey to the prom— i mean laurie?! lying about that to me? and setting my house on fire? this whole time i’ve been putting up with him and he goes and does that, i mean?!” she groaned, her puffer jacket feeling progressively hot as she found herself in a steep slope that lead to tears and violence. she wanted to slap someone the more she thought back at the situation.

“to be fair, that’s only the stuff you know about.” vinnie quipped from his seat on the chair beside the couch. eric quickly swatted him with his hand while fez remained looking at the girl with puppy eyes. her blood was boiling, like hacker couldn’t get any more unlikable.

shaking her head in annoyance, she ground her teeth while spinning on her heels back to the door she entered from, knowing that if she stayed she’d end up throwing something at the cocky boy in leather. she made her way to donna’s house.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

after having time to reflect, or at least pretend to, y/n made peace with michael’s actions. she stood once again in the basement, ranting on about the breakup and her new desires to eric and donna who were cuddled on the couch.

“you sure you’re changed? because you’re yapping like the old you.” vinnie said, hand in the freezer behind her to pull out a popsicle. while he walked back to the edge of the couch, the door to the basement swung open, revealing y/n’s disheveled ex.

“y/n..can we talk?” it was like no one else was in the room, the way kelso’s brown eyes only gravitated towards the girl in question.

“i’m here, why not?”

“andd with that i think we should—“ eric grabbed onto donna, beginning to rise from their seat on the couch as they realized the intimate moment that was about to make way.

“uh, foreman?” vinnie halted him, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back to the couch before sitting on the arm rest. “come on now.” he patted eric’s shoulder before taking a lick of the yellow popsicle in his hand, watching over at the broken couple and waiting for them to start bickering.

of course he was entertained.

“look, y/n, i know i messed up. i mean, i did so many things that i don’t even know where to start.”

“woah, hey! give it a shot at least, i’ll help you fill in the blanks.” vinnie interrupted kelso, continuing to eat his popsicle while smirking at the situation his friend had finally fallen in. he’d been waiting for it to finally come to light and here it was.

donna had to keep vinnie at bay while michael was shooting his shot at an apology, but every time y/n looked at him, she couldn’t help but see him and eric’s sister in that kitchen kissing again. it was like a stain on him that was driving her insane.

“i don’t forgive you kelso. i don’t want to be with you again, okay? we are done. forever.”

“woah, didn’t see that coming!” vinnie leaped off the edge of the couch, hiding his grin with the yellow treat in hand before kelso bolted out of the door again, stomping. he caught a glimpse of the tears on his face, along with the new ones that were pouring down y/n’s.

“so um…” she could feel three sets of eyes on her, all shocked at her decision and not knowing how to comfort her. she laughed at herself for being so stupid.

“that was the smartest thing i’ve ever done! and um…” she gulped, grasping her hands together and trying to keep her lip from quivering. “it’s for the best…” her mascara was clumping through her vision and the sight of donna’s sympathetic gaze was too much to handle.

she whined, completely breaking down. the couple stood up, arms open while eric cooed words of comfort and donna was preparing to hold her crying friend, but y/n made a b line straight to vinnie.

“hacker!” she cried, walking by the two and wrapping her arms around the tall boys torso. he looked over at the others for help, stunned while holding onto his popsicle in one hand. she sobbed into his neck, standing on her tippy toes to reach him.

he didn’t hug back and was instead appalled, but y/n found comfort in his presence anyways.

“why does she always come to me?” he questioned, carefully putting his hand at the back of her waist, his touch light like she was contagious.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

some time had passed, and after breaking up with kelso, y/n found herself constantly going to vinnie for comfort, despite him being the least comforting person on the planet.

he didn’t know what to do. he’d tried everything to get her to stop and talk to donna instead or just be like him and keep it bottled up inside, but y/n wouldn’t take. it was at the point where he would just pretend to be someone else whenever she spoke to him. that’s what he was doing now, folding his laundry while the girl sat on top of the foreman’s washing machine, going on about michael like always.

he smiled and gave her the cheapest advice and response possible, taking everything at face value. “yeah, i suppose that it’s important that when you have a bad breakup.. that you find friends,” he grabbed another one of his graphic tees, folding it, “that uh..sympathetic…uh…stuff.” he huffed, bending over to grab another shirt from the machine. “for support and uh…yeah..i don’t know.” he smiled.

“right…so, let’s go to the mall!” she offered, excited at the idea of hanging out with someone. sure she loved shopping, but having someone with her to shower her in compliments made it a thousand times better.

she wasn’t sure what it was that made her gravitate towards vinnie at this time. maybe it’s because he’s the only person who didn’t treat her like she was special and instead, criticized her and was brutally honest. something about it made her feel more human. whatever the reason was, she undoubtedly only wanted to be with hacker at this time.

“no— i meant friends like donna! or.. not me!” grabbing his laundry, y/n followed him into his room at the back of the basement. she’d never really been in there before, since vinnie moved in with the foreman’s.

he rolled his eyes as he heard her steps behind him. “but, i noticed that you’re alone a lot! and now i’m alone a lot! so let’s just be alone together!” he turned to face her after placing his clothes on the bed, seeing her in his room felt so out of place. “look, we’re even alone right now! it’s not so bad!”

“i’d beg to differ.” he huffed, continuing to walk away from her. once they were out of his room, she had managed to get him to agree to hang out with her. sure, he was only going since she offered to pay for his food and let him drive her dads fancy car, but a win was a win for y/n.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

after a workable trip to the mall, the two made their ways back to the car. now, sitting in the passenger seat, was y/n complimenting the new boots that she’d bought vinnie. she bought them partly because his current clothes were hideous and she was embarrassed to be seen with someone dressed like that with clothes you could only find in a bargain bin— but she also enjoyed spending money on people she cared about.

she was so used to constantly feeding and clothing michael, paying for every little thing he needed and didn’t need, that it almost felt wrong to not buy vinnie something. sure, he wasn’t her boyfriend to spoil with gifts, but that same urge she felt for michael, she felt for him.

the first sign that maybe she liked vinnie more than she expected to.

once y/n started talking about plans for tomorrow, vinnie stopped her with a chuckle. “okay, alright now!come on now, y/n. this was a one time only thing, alright?”

she could feel her stomach drop at his words, “if you’re trying to bribe me with these boots, man, you can just take them back.”

“oh..i see.” she tried to keep her head up, ignoring the pain that she felt in her chest. even her $400 fur coat she wore couldn’t hide the hurt inside.

“oh, what are you gonna do now? cry?” he mocked, playfully. while she peered out the window of the passenger seat, vinnie’s face dropped in realization. his brown eyes studied her face, looking her up and down to see the look of devastation written all over it.

“oh, man..you’re crying.” the boys usual rough demeanor softened slightly and he didn’t drop his gaze, instead leaning closer to her. “hey..y/n! come on, it’s gonna be fine, alright?”

vinnie wrapped his arm around her shoulder, silently begging her to look at him. when he completely dropped his cool guy act and started comforting her more intimately than ever before, y/n didn’t know what to do. “you’re gonna be okay, alright?” he murmured softly, pushing a few strands of hair from her face and behind her ear. “this whole thing, it’s gonna be fine alright?”

once y/n made eye contact with him, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning in, putting her hand on his cheek and letting her lips touch his for a millisecond before he pulled away, frantically.

“NO! bad y/n!”

“but..you’re alone and i was alone—“

“look, y/n..i’m trying to help you out here okay? i’m not gonna take advantage of you like this.” y/n swallowed, not letting him continue.

“vinnie-“

“no, listen. you need to understand that you can do so much better than kelso. i know you’re upset but it’s gonna be okay.”

“but what if i don’t find anyone else…” she asked.

“you will, man! you’ll find somebody great!” his words were sincere and reassuring, as opposed to the way he usually spoke to her.

“see, i myself? don’t like you.”

and she spoke to soon.

“i find you abrasive,” he continued, “but if i didn’t know you, and i had never talked to you… i’d think you were totally hot.”

and with that, she felt a million times better.

“thank you, hacker.”

“anything for you, princess.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

later that night, vinnie made his way to the basement with two bottles of coke, finding y/n standing there, looking at fez and kelso.

“hey, what’s going on?” he asked, eyes darting between the girl he’d just been with and her ex boyfriend as he handed her the coke he’d grabbed for her.

“nothing! nothing at all.” she exclaimed, smiling back at kelso before looking down at vinnie who was now seated. “thank you hacker for tonight. it was very special.” with that, she leaned down and gave him a kiss that was dangerously close to his lips.

vinnie sat there processing what had happened while she made her way past the two boys and out the door, leaving a shocked and appauled kelso and a grinning vinnie.

“you guys like my new boots?”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

── ★ ˙ ̟𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 ──

that bag.

curse that stupid bag was all vinnie could think.

y/n was clingier than ever before, doing whatever she could to get vinnie to hang out with her and it was driving him up the wall. she was like a parasite at this point.

then when vinnie told her off and explained how they had nothing in common and that she was just a square cheerleader and they’d never be best friends, it flipped a switch in her.

that’s when he found her outside with a bag full of paraphernalia that she’d purchased in order to prove that she wasn’t some goody two shoes cheerleader, and of course with their luck a cop was there. he approached them after hearing them argue when vinnie heard her express that she wanted to be with him, he couldn’t help himself but snap back at her.

when the officer saw the bag, he went to arrest y/n before vinnie told him that it was his bag and not hers, and given vinnie’s appearance, the cop believed it.

after that, y/n confessed her love to him and was positive that he loved her back, no matter what he may say. in her eyes, him taking the fall for her and going to jail, was him protecting her and she’d never felt any type of protection like that before from any of her exes.

she made it her mission to get him to be with her as soon as he was released from jail.

“guess who?!” she put two hands over hackers eyes, covering them as she stood behind him. he was alone at the hub, sitting at a table with a bottle in his hand.

“well, it’s either y/n or the cold, clammy hands of death. not sure which one would be worse.”

“it’s….y/n!” she singsonged, sitting beside him. her hand immediately going to clutch his arm.

“damn it.”

“oh, vinnie…you’re my hero!” she gushed, “when that cop found my bag and you said it was yours, and then they took you to the big house and locked you up! that was the most romantic thing ever.”

“yeah, maybe for you! i was deloused!” he scoffed, feeling y/n grab his hand and forcibly intertwine them when leo came in to sit beside them. he gave up fighting and let her hold his hand.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

while the gang was nervously conversing in the basement about how eric got them busted for smoking by confessing to red after vinnie got arrested, y/n interrupted.

she leaped down off of the washing machine and walked behind vinnie. “guys, can we talk about something more important than weed? i mean,” she grabbed vinnie’s face, pulling him into her chest as she leaned down, “we’re in love!”

vinnie suddenly rose from his chair, turning to face her. his tight plain shirt was hugging his figure perfectly. “alright, enough of your fantasy bullshit. this whole thing wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you. why don’t you get this through your simple little easy bake oven head? i don’t love you. i don’t even like you. i can barely stand to look at you. okay?”

the room went silent for a moment before y/n chirped up, “oh vinnie, you’re such a bad liar!” and with that, she wrapped her arms around the boys neck and leaned up into him, hugging him.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

── ★ ˙ ̟𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐞 ──

“so…vinnie…” the cheery girl placed both her hands on vinnie’s legs, right above his knees. he was seated on the washing machine, listening to the gang converse about how bored they were, when she approached.

she had on a denim dress with a slightly-sheer button up underneath that was light green with flowers all over it. her hair was pushed back with a bobby pin and she had a gold necklace on that matched the watch hacker wore—only her necklace was real gold and a gift from her father while his watch was something he stole off of a kid during third period last year.

the blue of her outfit was just a smidge darker than the jeans he wore. “would you like to be my date to mr. foreman’s barbecue?” her question was spoken with such confidence that anyone with eyes would wonder who she thought she was asking, because clearly it wasn’t vinnie, the boy who dodged her at every change he got.

“no.” her face dropped at his words and the brunette continued, “as a matter of fact, i don’t wanna go anywhere with you.”

“you know what— that’s okay!” vinnie felt the machine beneath him wobble slightly as y/n sat down beside him, closer than she needed to be. she was now sandwiched between him and the laundry bin that laurie had left down there. “we can stay in.”

her arm hung over his shoulders, leaning in even closer than she was before. “no, y/n! i’ve told you time and time again, you don’t have a chance.”

she could feel embarrassment slowly creeping up and shifted back away, her shoulder touching the laundry bin. “but for some reason, you keep thinking that i’m interested and that you have a chance!” he moved over to sit on the chair beside donna.

“wait, so you are interested in me and i have a chance?!”

of course her brain only made out the exact opposite of what vinnie was trying to say. donna let out a laugh, darting her eyes back down to the magazine she was reading from her seat on the sofa.

vinnie quickly stood back up at her words, “boy, you are just insufferable and stupid… donna, take your friend.” with that, he went up the stairs, leaving the two girls alone.

“donna..” y/n crossed her arms, taking in vinnie’s words. “why does he say words that hurt me so much? why would he want to hurt me like that?!”

“because you’re stalking him, y/n.”

“no, really, donna!”

“y/n. really.” she deadpanned, her bright eyes looking over at her best friend. her fingers closed her magazine and she shimmied closer to the girl. “you are to hacker what fez is to you.”

“okay, that’s ridiculous— fez and i would never happen!” her breath caught in her throat and she felt herself fall into the seat beside the redhead. “oh my god… vinnie and i will never happen.”

the predicament was completely different than anything she’d ever experienced before. usually whenever she had a problem, she could solve it with either money or her looks. she’d already tried money when she bought vinnie those boots, and clearly he was blind if he wasn’t dropping to his knees like everyone else to be with her, so looks wasn’t working either.

that left her with one other option. make him realize that he likes her. how? by making him jealous.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

later that day, y/n arrived at the foreman’s barbecue with someone else, just how she planned. he had an arm wrapped around her and wore the ugliest brown leather jacket that vinnie had ever seen.

the sight of chip leaning onto y/n was one vinnie didn’t expect to see from his seat at the front of the house.

“everybody, meet chip! he’s been chasing after me for years now so i figured, what the hell? chip, meet everybody!” her voice was too happy for vinnie’s liking and when chip left to grab her a drink, she immediately turned to see him, perched there watching with an unreadable expression.

“so you’re with this chip guy now?” he had his legs spread on both sides of the chair, his arms resting in his lap as he leaned backwards.

“yep.” her gaze was on chip, smiling dreamily before turning to vinnie.

“huh.” he muttered.

“why, do you care?” she shot back, pressing all of her weight into the pillar of the house.

“nah, why would i? i mean, if you wanna date this guy than that’s..cool.” he replied.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

y/n immediately approached donna who was putting up decorations for her dad, to inform her on what vinnie said.

while she didn’t see why her best friend was so excited about what seemed to be an honest and careless answer, she was somewhat grateful to have her there since everyone else had been at eric’s house all day. y/n made sure to compliment the decorations before heading back to the barbecue, only after she’d snatched a hot dog from the grill and complimented bob’s cooking.

after steering eric’s sister away from her chip, she continued back to her date. “you can have him when i’m done with him, like usual.” she’d said.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

something told vinnie to talk to this ‘chip’ guy, and after further evaluation, he was glad he did.

the guy was a jackass. even more so than her usual type, and that said a lot coming from hacker.

“i hate it when she talks, and she’s always talking.” was a statement that he could agree with and laugh about, but when the loser followed that statement up with “but it’s worth it if i get to nail her,” that was when he started seeing red.

“huh..” vinnie tightened his jaw along with the grip on his beer. “you might wanna rethink that, man. i mean…y/n’s pretty young and…only had like one boyfriend.”

“yeah, which isn’t surprising, i mean…she’s a bitch.” chip proceeded to shoot him with the most shit-eating grin that vinnie had ever seen. he just couldn’t stop himself from swinging at him.

so he did.

after letting out a dry chuckle that read ‘you’re gonna regret saying that’, vinnie threw a punch at him, hard, knocking chip to the floor instantly.

y/n came running out at the sound of shouts and gasps from the party goers who had witnessed it.

“vinnie, what happened?”

she couldn’t care less about her date bleeding on the floor, instead her focus was entirely on the tattooed boy who was adjusting his jacket and seemed to be just as confused as what had happened as she was.

“what? nothing! just…somebody and the—guy that…just said bitch and there’s nothing.” he struggled to explain himself while her eyes darted from him to the guy on the floor.

“oh my god! he called me a bitch and you hit him!” vinnie gulped, studying her frantic movements. “i’m right, aren’t i!?”

“no…”

“liar! i am the bitch and you LOVE me!” she exclaimed.

“uh…kitty’s calling me.” and with that, vinnie darted into the house, ignoring her and leaving her there to daydream about how ‘in love’ they were.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

just a few hours later, there she was, in vinnie’s jacket, sitting on the edge of the front of the car. she looked so innocent staring up at the stars in his clothes that were way too big for her.

they were on a date.

after going to kitty for advice and hearing how convinced she was that vinnie had feelings for y/n, he said fuck it and borderline demanded her to get in the car. “we are going on a fucking date.”

she was drinking his soda, an intimate gesture while leaning into him. everything was so perfect, from the scenery to the sound of guitar playing from the car radio. it was just what she wanted.

“dates almost over…what’d you think?”

“eh..i didn’t completely hate it.” he replied, looking back at her to see her gazing lovingly into his eyes.

then, they leaned in. a first kiss.

“huh.” kissing him wasn’t as she imagined it’d be. it wasn’t like when she kissed michael and that was all she was really used to. “i didn’t feel anything.”

“nothing?”

“no…i mean, it was good! but..” y/n sighed, “did you feel something?”

“uh….no.” he stopped and stared quizzically at the sky for a moment before reaffirming his answer.

“wow…than i guess you were right about us all along. just friends.” a part of her was disappointed.

“i mean..we have enough time if you want to take this to the backseat and—“ he raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“oh, take me home! you pig!”

“yes, dear.”

she wondered if he really did feel something.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

── ★ ˙ ̟𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐭 ──

vinnie was on top as usual, gripping the side of the couch while y/n was splayed out under him. her arms met his shoulders, humming softly while entangling her tongue with his. about five minutes into a make out session, they heard the familiar stomp of kelso’s feet down the basement stairs.

“a catholic school?!”

fuck.

the two immediately separated, y/n pulling her dress back down and adjusting her lipstick while vinnie ran to grab his pair of sunglasses off the table, crossing his legs to hide his surely visible erection.

“yeah, my dad took away my slingshot so i’m feeling it pretty bad too.” kelso reached the end of the stairs with donna and eric following him. while donna went to grab her laundry, kelso slid in beside y/n on the couch, sucking obnoxiously loud on a lollipop.

vinnie pretended to be invested in whatever shitty show was on tv, while michael started hitting on y/n, like always.

“i think we should hash this thing out, yeah?” he gestured between him and his ex with the lollipop he held.

“michael, i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“come on babe, i can see it on your face. you’re dying. you miss me so much and i know we’ve been through a lot together…but you know i’m always here if you ever have some physical needs.” he suggested, putting an arm around y/n’s shoulders and breathing down onto her.

vinnie quickly jabbed him in the arm, making kelso lose his grip on the lollipop. “ow-hey! what was that for?!”

he frantically grabbed the red treat off the ground before looking back at the brunette and rubbing his shoulder in pain.

“candy’s not good for you.” he barked, clearly annoyed at the way he was talking to y/n, but with them being under wraps, only she could tell.

“well damn!” he grossly popped the treat into his mouth, leaning towards the opposite side of the couch. donna and eric winced at the sight, before exclaiming how kelso will ‘always be the king’.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

the last thing donna and eric expected to see when they entered the foreman’s basement was vinnie hunched over y/n, who was grasping on to her dress that had made its way down to her waist, trying to shield her bra cladded chest.

vinnie didn’t even care enough to move, y/n had to push him off of her. her face was so hot, she only assumed it looked animated. there were probably birds flying around hackers head, the way he didn’t give a damn. it was like someone unplugged him.

eric noticed first, his eyes wide as he shouted a fast “OH MY GOD!”, causing donna to turn. once the redhead’s eyes saw the two on the couch, they mirrored her boyfriends, widening so much that she looked like her eyes would pop out.

“what the hell?!”

“what? you never seen two people kiss before?” vinnie swallowed, his breath still heavy from the act they had been caught in. he’d been blue balled multiple times this week and it was driving him insane— not to mention the times they’d been interrupted during not so heated make outs.

“vinnie!” she scoffed, clearly embarrassed. her best friend threw a nearby pillow at her to help her cover up, since the only way to pull her dress back up, was to rise from her seat.

“what?!” he threw his hands back, nonchalantly. donna sent him a sharp glare, turning her back towards the two so y/n could get situated. eric was so traumatized that he’d already been looking the other way.

“listen you two fairies, sometimes people get urges to touch each other and it’s not a big deal. it means nothing, stop being such prudes.” vinnie responded while y/n fixed her dress, scolding the boy the second she was decent.

“are you done now?” she rolled her eyes, “you can turn around now!”

eric stayed near the door entrance while donna moved closer to her friend. “are you serious y/n?! hacker?!”

“my couch!” eric shrieked, causing his girlfriend to send him a disappointing look. the two locked eyes, “kelso!” they exclaimed in unison, even more outraged than before.

“did someone say kelso!?” fez shouted from the top of the basement stairs. the guilty pair stiffened, knowing that wherever fez is, kelso’s sure to follow. vinnie turned towards the tv, turning it on like nothing happened, while y/n sat there frozen.

“that’s right, ladies and gentlemen! the number one fastest hot dog eating champion of the entirety of the state of wisconsin, michael kelso, has arrived!” fez shouted in an announcer voice, kelso’s steps following.

once fez reached the end of the stairs, he waited for the taller boy to catch up.

“HELL YEAH! word must have gotten around, huh?!” he quickly jumped in between vinnie and y/n, squishing the three on the couch. “yep, that’s right.”

“kelso, what the hell are you talking about?” donna asked.

“i just challenged everyone at the hub to a hotdog race, winner gets 5 dollars, and won! there were only 2 people who agreed but still. everyone else was too wimp and i don’t blame them!” he put an arm on y/n’s shoulder. “does that turn you on?”

the group minus fez and kelso all shook their heads in disapproval. “it was beautiful!” fez sighed lyrically.

“yeah, that hotdog number four almost killed me. i was gasping for air…but i’m not dumb enough to choke. now THAT would be embarrassing.” he laughed, relieved.

the room went quiet before hacker stood up, “i’m going for a drive, y/n come with me.” he stated like it was an order, leaving the girl alone with kelso, fez, and the couple who knew her secret.

“like y/n would follow hacker.” michael scoffed.

“yes, why would she? she hates him!” fez chuckled from his spot in front of the tv.

seeing as they both knew y/n and vinnie wouldn’t have the balls to tell them, eric and donna filled them in on what had happened. they were both hysterical, kelso especially.

“HACKER?! oh be serious you guys, he’s poor and ugly and…” michael struggled to think of ways to insult his friend, “and my friend! he’d never do that…. plus y/n doesn’t date idiots, alright and he’s an idiot! i mean, remember the time he locked himself in the closet at donna’s house and slept there on the floor all night?!?” he shouted, standing up from the couch to face his ex.

“kelso..that was you.” donna corrected him.

“oh yeah…”

“and come on— hacker looks just like you.” eric chimed in.

“yeah! if you were covered in tattoos, were raised in a shack of a house riddled with paraphernalia and were more attractive!” donna remarked, kelso snapping his head back to look at her. “you’d be twins!” she smiled.

“oH, THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER!” kelso cowardly stormed out of the basement, leaving fez there, kneeling on the ground and looking at the couch that y/n and vinnie had made out on. he looked up quizzically at the two left alone with him.

“so…what color was the bra?”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

── ★ ˙ ̟𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ──

“you wanna know what i’m grateful for?” red huffed, leaning over his wife’s shoulders. “earplugs.”

he had been begging kitty to quiet down her singing, but with y/n there to help her whip the mashed potatoes, she couldn’t help but burst out in song. she’d missed laurie, not used to her not being home for thanksgiving and y/n was as close to laurie as she could get, yet the girl wasn’t her usual chipper and abrasive self. instead, she was sulking in complete silence, watching kitty cut vegetables as her wrist mindlessly wound the potatoes in the bowl she held.

she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this awful.

her dad was in trouble with the law which was causing a serious turmoil on her mother, leading her to take everything out on y/n, even more so than usual. while all she wanted was to be with vinnie, he hadn’t seen her in a week.

she tried cuddling with him on the couch like she used to, but he didn’t give in and acted like she wasn’t there. after that, she stumbled away crying and stayed at her house for the week— avoiding vinnie at all costs.

she didn’t understand what had happened. it wasn’t like she was asking him to fall madly and deeply in love with her or something, but he wouldn’t even show up to their makeout sessions anymore. ever since he swore that the thing they had was only casual fooling around and nothing more to eric and donna and that they’d stop, he’d been completely distant. sure, she swore it too, but she assumed he was just saying it to get them to back off.

she didn’t think he actually meant it!

a lot had changed since that first kiss they shared. when they started fooling around, it happened out of lust and came completely out of left field, and she still didn’t feel anything magical from it— but recently she’d started to feel things.

and it made her sick to think that she was the only one who felt it.

she wasn’t supposed to like guys like vinnie. she was supposed to marry someone with a bright future and wealthy parents who she could pass down a family name with— not someone who she’d be embarrassed to take to an event with her and have to cover his mouth to keep him from making crude comments.

so why was she so upset that he didn’t go check on her and why did he seemingly forget she existed? she even splurged on a new dress, hoping to get a reaction out of him, but nothing.

noticing how everyone except for hacker was outside playing basketball and conversing, she assumed that meant that the boy was by himself in the basement since he’s rarely in his room. after she finished whipping the mashed potatoes, she spoke for the first time in what felt like ages.

“is there anything else i can help you with, mrs. foreman?”

kitty looked back at her, seeing her sunken gaze and frowned so fast that y/n didn’t see it. “actually, red left a case of booze in the freezer in the basement so it would be nice and cold for him at supper, could you be a dear and fetch it for him?”

the basement.

nodding, she turned and made her way to the basement, anxious at the thought of being alone with vinnie.

when she reached the basement, she found vinnie seated in his usual chair, watching a tv that was seemingly off. she furrowed her brow, bending over at the freezer directly next to him.

“hey.”

he looked over to her, noting her proximity and how good the new dress fit her. “hey.”

“whatcha doin?” she put the beer on the ground, lifting her body up onto the washing machine and sitting down.

“television.” he said.

“really? cause’ it uh…kinda looks like you forgot to turn it on.” she joked.

“man, nothing gets past you, huh?”

sighing, y/n swallowed her pride and joined him on the couch. his brown eyes were glued to her whenever she wasn’t looking.

“are you okay?”

“shouldn’t i be asking you that?” he glared, shaking his head before leaning back into the couch. her hand fell onto his knee, comfortingly.

“yes, yeah..you should, but since you’re too much of a dumbass, i’m making the first move.”

“so, wouldn’t that make you the dumbass here?” he argued.

“stop changing the subject and just tell me why you’re mad at me!”

“i’m not mad at you.” he pulled back from her touch and stood up, shaking his head as if he was annoyed and this was the dumbest conversation on earth.

“well then, why haven’t we been…us recently?”

“alright now, don’t be getting so ahead of yourself, y/n. what us?” he questioned, towering over the girl who was now standing in front of him. “as far as i’m aware, we’ve been the most ‘us’ that we could have possibly been, this week!”

“vinnie, we didn’t see each other at all.”

“and why would we? its like you’ve always said, you’re you and i’m me. why keep wasting time when we already know how it ends?”

she suddenly regretted ever saying such a thing, but didn’t know how to respond with out sounding too desperate. “i thought we were just saying that.”

“well, i wasn’t.”

vinnie’s words came out so definitive and heart wretchedly empty that it almost knocked the wind out of her chest. holding his eye contact felt more difficult than it had ever been. a moment of silence passed, the girls wide-eyed gaze was haunting him already before it had even ceased to exist. pulling himself from her stare, he treaded towards his bedroom, seemingly to grab his keys, and muttered a last word before exiting through the basement door.

“you heard eric didn’t you? we’re breaking up the band.”

biting on her lower lip and clenching her fists, the reminder of kitty upstairs and the case of beer on the ground hit her, along with everything else that had happened that past day. all of it went away the minute she started speaking to hacker, a just to wash over her like a tide again the second he left. she only let a few tears fall before returning upstairs.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“FINALLY!” kelso called out, shooting past y/n as she made her way into the foreman house. kitty had just announced that the turkey was done and that it was time to set the table.

“coming!” eric ushered himself into the kitchen to help his mother prepare the table. y/n and donna stayed back in the living room, donna nodding a hello to hacker who was on the staircase drinking a beer.

“you excited for turkey, hacker?” donna asked playfully, unaware as to how uncomfortable it made y/n. all she knew was that the girl was sad about her parents, she had no idea that the person she sparked a conversation with was also a huge part of her distress.

“oh yeah,” he stood and slowly stepped down as he spoke, “thanksgiving, where we all get together and celebrate the subjugation of an indigenous people with yams and underdog floats. who’d wanna miss that?”

y/n stood back awkwardly as donna laughed and the two followed hacker into the kitchen.

the table was set beautifully, split into two sections, one for the adults and another for the gang. eric had been borderline hyperventilating over the math test that he had failed and was doing everything he could to suck up to his parents, in the event that they found out. laurie had surprised everyone by coming home, so once y/n got red his beer, she was no longer needed in the kitchen. she had almost forgotten until she saw the blonde at their table.

fez and kelso couldn’t wait for food any longer and had already chosen seats beside each other, taking up one side of the table, and donna had gravitated towards the side nearest to fez, leaving a space presumably for her boyfriend. that meant there were only two spots left, both between hacker and laurie.

oh, just shoot me at this point.

 opting for the lesser evil, she sat in the chair directly next to vinnie, the two taking up their entire side. she could practically feel the tension the minute she sat down. there was little to no space between the two of them and it felt like a giant smoggy hurricane was working its way through her body, making it difficult for her to focus and swallow. while she’d droned out laurie’s voice, the sound of her name falling from eric’s lips snapped her back into reality.

“so..y/n. i’m sure you’re really glad your here and not back at home with your parents, huh?” he let out a chuckle, smacking his knee with his hand.

“now that would be awkward huh!”

the group fell silent, even fez and kelso staring at the completely freaked out boy who had very clearly just crossed a line.

“eric!” donna shouted in a whisper, her tone showed distain for his flagrant words but he was too brain fogged to catch on.

“i mean, you must feel like your life is just falling apart! are you doing okay? like really?” he leaned across the counter as far as possible, speaking the last part in a similar hushed expression to his girlfriends.

y/n didn’t expect vinnie to jump in.

“alright, will you lay off? bother her some other time.” his voice boomed in y/n’s ears, ricocheting off of the wires of tension that had bordered the two of them. the conversation quickly faded once the turkey was brought out, but she couldn’t help but hyper focus on the boy beside her, from the corner of her eye.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“man…if i were to list the three most important things in my life, turkey would have to be number one!” kelso had already gotten seconds and was looking to fill his plate again for the third time. he’d been going on about how good the turkey was, and while everyone assumed it was just to be polite to kitty, he was still going on as if this was the best day of his life. “well…” he thought, “sex and slingshots would be above it but, turkey would be up there!” he grinned, nodding and taking his last bite from his piece.

“ah, yes. these mashed potatoes are all i can find thankfulness for. they are like creamy clouds full of deliciousness.” fez agreed, holding a single bowl of the mashed potatoes that y/n had helped make.

“hey, hacker. are you gonna eat that?” michael pointed to the turkey slice that vinnie had been cutting from, he chewed slowly before answering.

“yes.”

“well..could i have maybe the side—“ michael leaned over, trying to bite a piece off of vinnie’s food but vinnie gave his shoulder a haymaker before he could reach it.

“OW!” he clutched his shoulder dramatically. “well that’s not very neighborly!”

continuing to slice into the meat, vinnie moved on with his meal like nothing had happened. the sound brought kitty’s attention to the group and the look on y/n’s face was cause of concern.

“y/n, are you okay dear?” the younger girl looked up quickly, “you’ve barely touched your food.”

she made eye contact with vinnie for a good second, forgetting to ignore the feeling of when his eyes locked on to her.

“yeah, no i’m fine! i’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“well, why don’t you go lie down in the basement? the dogs alone down there and i’m sure he’d appreciate the company on such a holiday!” she insisted, “plus, you look like you wish that fork you’re holding was a gun!” she added nervously before letting out a hysterical chuckle, taking a long sip of her drink.

“no th-“

“yeah, that’s a good idea. i’m stuffed and starting to miss that little dog. let’s go, y/n.” vinnie stood up, looking down at her and lending out a hand. y/n wasn’t sure if she was daydreaming or if it was a thanksgiving miracle but he was suddenly acting as if nothing had happened.

“what are you talking about-“

“come on,” he reached under her armpits, pulling her up from her chair and kicking back her seat, “schatzi’s probably dying down there. at this hour they’ll be playing reruns of laverne and shirley.” he pulled her arm with him down to the basement, firmly yet gently.

“oh no, i forgot! please be sure to tape it for me!” fez called out frantically.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

after briefly greeting schatzi, y/n sat down on the couch, watching vinnie still in thought.

“well? what-“

“this is stupid.” he blurted out, standing confidently without showing any signs of hesitation or sitting down.

“what? what’s stupid?”

“this. what we are doing— us right now, this is so stupid.”

“okay, i’m lost.” she replied, shaking her head.

“we’re being stupid! whatever we are doing right now, it’s stupid, okay?! alright?!” he confessed, using his hands while he spoke, his brown eyes holding tightly onto her gaze. “i feel stupid! this days been stupid! thanksgiving being a national holiday is stupid—eric failed his math test which makes him stupid!” he ranted, the words spilling out from him like he couldn’t hold them anymore.

“you’re clearly upset, which is stupid! and it’s making me concernedly upset, which is stupid!” he clenched his jaw and schatzi ran over to him at the command in tone of his voice, trying to figure out what vinnie was being so loud about.

“it’s stupid and i’m cutting it out!”

“you’re….cutting it out?” y/n finally spoke up, only to be cut off by his ramblings again, but considering she barely knew what to say, she wasn’t too upset about it.

“yes.” he nodded firmly, grimacing at his words.

“okay, vinnie, you do know that this is all because of you right? you’re the one who stopped what we had going on, not me.”

“yeah, yeah? well, i’m stupid! okay?!” he snapped, sighing and dropping down beside y/n on the couch. he melted at the feeling of her hand on his arm, comforting him while waiting for him to finish his tantrum.

“look…” he sighed, “i’m not saying that we should be in a relationship or anything, but i don’t think we should allow the guys in our group to dictate what we do with ourselves. and i don’t think you think we should either, considering you’ve been moping around all day like schatzi.”

his thumb rubbed the back of her other hand, without realizing. “so..what do we do?”

“how about we just do whatever we want to?” he offered, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “i think you’re really attractive and i have a lot of fun doing sinful and devious acts with you…” she smirked at his words, “and life is too short to be this stupid, so how about we forget about everyone else, say fuck kelso, and just do what we want? no expectations.”

the sincerity and gentleness in his voice was so incredibly attractive and it felt impossible to keep her composure. placing both hands in his, y/n leaned in and kissed vinnie’s cheek. his blush was evident, even if he tried to play it cool.

“so, you think i’m attractive?”

“god, you’re annoying.” he rolled his eyes, groaning before gripping the back of her neck in his hands and kissing her the way that he’d been dying to.

it always was the best way to shut her up.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

i have to make a new taglist, so reply if you’d like to be added!

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2

Robin Buckley was unfortunately well-aware of Steve Harrington, long before they started working together. He had been the worst kind of popular in high school, the completely effortless kind. And Robin was not looking forward to working with him. 

Sure, he had been better than the other jock dickheads Robin was forced to share space with, but that probably had more to do with his weird Eddie Munson friendship than anything else. Being friends with the town freak kind of forced you to be more accepting. Or in Steve’s case, force you to punch anyone who insulted him in the face. 

And while that was all nice and chivlirous or whatever it didn’t stop the fact that Steve Harringinton was a complete ass who slept with dozens of girls and threw them away immmeidtly after. There was no way that a guy like that wasn’t a dick. 

And after their first shift working together, Robin was convinced that she had been absolutely right. He was a total slouch at work, spending most of his time failing at flirting with girls or yapping to his friends on the phone in the back. He was a complete diva about his hair, and their manager had given him three reprimands in the span of four hours for not wearing the dumb hat. And he was always trying to get out of work early. 

After their first week together Robin was ready to strangle him. The only thing she’d give him is that he accepted being assigned indefinite bathroom cleaning duty with grace, otherwise she probably would have killed him and hid the body in the freezer by now.

Though he was really trying to expedite the process over here.

It was another annoying, Harrington filled day, only for him to once again try and leave early. 

But before he could get to the door, Robin was dragging him back behind the counter, hissing, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? We have inventory tonight.”

She had expected him to whine in response or maybe say something dickish that she could kick him in the shin for, but he just looked horrified.

“Tonight? B-But it won’t take that long right? Like just a few minutes?”

“Try a few hours. They’re making us count the spoons man. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

His eyes got wider with each word, and for a split second Robin was actually worried that he was about to have a panic attack. That was until he opened his mouth again, “I-okay. Look dude, I really can’t do this tonight. I have a thing that I need to go to. But I can make it up to you! Or I can come in tomorrow morning-”

“The manager is going to look at it tomorrow morning,” Robin interrupted, arms crossed and brow twitching, “What is so damn important that it can’t wait till tomorrowow?”

“Does that matter?” Steve asked, oddly defensive for someone who was literally begging, “I just need to leave. But I can make it up to you! I’ll even pay you. You can have all the tips for the week and if that’s not enough then I’ll do the trash for three-no four days. I’ll do anything. Please?”

He actually looked like he was on the edge of tears and Robin had to begrudgingly admit that the puppy eyes were working on her. Christ, she was too good of a person. 

She sighed, “Trash duty for two weeks, and for the week I get the tips I expect you to be extra charming. We clear?”

“Yes! Totally fair!” Steve was already speed walking backwards to the door, and those misty eyes had suddenly completely disappeared. Robin was started to think that she just got played and big time, “Best co-worker ever! Really couldn’t ask for better-”

“Just fucking go.” Robin said as she shooed him off, near snorting when Steve actually started running out of the mall. 

She looked back behind the counter, groaning when she realized that his trash promise apparently started tomorrow. Fucking dick. She’d take out the trash, do inventroy alone, and then curse the Harrington name. 

She started to lug the disgusting trash bags full of soupy ice cream through the backdoor, shivering a little in the cold. The dumpster was right next to the almost empty parking lot, everyone gone except one long running van.

Robin stopped, realziing that two people were making out infront of it, and one of them just so happened to still be wearing his cutsy uniform while he shoved his tongue down the stranger’s throat. Robin stared at them, barely concealed by the dumpster as her blood boiled. 

Steve ditched her to make-out with some chick in the parking lot? Oh hell no. He was not getting away with this. She was just about to come out of her hiding spot to start tearing into him when she heard Steve giggle. Honest to god giggle. 

He was standing in front of the girl, obscuring her face while he played with a lock of her hair, “Aw, don’t pout. I didn’t make the schedule. Besides, I already said I’d make it up to you in any way you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes, wondering if she should include warning the poor girl that whatever two week anniversary they were celebrating would definitely be their last when she called him out. 

“I just didn’t expect to spend most of our four year anniversary eating cake in bed alone,” The stranger answered, their voice instantly recongnizble, “I was supposed to be eating you.”

That wasn’t a chick, that was Eddie.

Robin gasped, a hand going over her mouth. She had heard that voice many times, usually yelling about comforimity while standing on a lunch table. But that didn’t make sense! It couldn’t be-

But then Eddie was spinning them around, crowding Steve against the hood of his car, his signature DIO vest on full display while he ploundered Steve’s mouth, Steve laughing into it all the while. 

Robin felt like her brain was short-circuiting as she watched them. She was actually witnessing Steve Harrington happily shoving his tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat.

Steve pulled away first, holding Eddie back with a hand to his chest, still giggling, “God, that was so lame. Even for you.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Steve easily agreed, “And I’ll love it even more when we’re home and in bed. Then we can really start celebrating.”

That was more than enough for Eddie. He dragged Steve off of the hood before opening the passenger side door for him, stealing one more kiss before running over to the driver’s side. 

Robin watched as they settled into the van, hands immediately clasped back together over the centerconsole. But it didn’t stop there. No, Steve was licking his lips and looking down muttering something to Eddie that she couldn’t hear. But she could guess, especially when his head suddenly dissapeared right before they drove off. 

Robin stayed hidden behind the dumpster, still trying to comprehend what she’d just seen. She just watched King Steve make out with the resident freak, and maybe start the beginnings of road head, all while giggling and laughing about their fucking anniversy.

What. The. Fuck.

From an unpublished chapter of this fic

[dystopyx-blog]

with the ask about all the characters that overblot, you mentioned we’d be better off when they’re regular yanderes as opposed to overblotted yanderes—so who do you think would be the easiest and who do you think would be the worst in their regular yandere state? and do you think some of their yandere tendencies would be different pre-overblot compared to post-overblot?

gonna ramble for a second here… i am honestly not too sure with leona, vil, or idia but i kind of imagine riddle lightens up significantly after it. probably more lenient with his darling in general, but especially regarding the whole following rules thing. i see azul being a 50/50, it probably depends on your reaction. having his darling witness his overblot, aka seeing his deepest darkest insecurities, and react poorly might validate his not-so-good tendencies, i.e., blackmail, lies, manipulation, gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. but if they react more positively, i assume he would feel more inclined to establish a relationship in a healthy… or at least in a more normal/conventional way. with jamil, i am under the belief it wouldn’t necessarily improve or worsen, it’ll just change. prior to the overblot, his methods likely follow a more sneaky approach, i’ll let you decide what that means lmao, but afterwards, he just becomes more blatant and likely won’t even attempt to hide it anymore. malleus is the only one i am almost certain will become even more difficult. the fear of losing you is still very prominent, but now he also fears hurting you again. he definitely thinks that he is the only one capable of keeping you safe, or at least he did think that, but now that delusion is… essentially shattered and he knows it’s all his fault. i don’t even know what he would do, but i just feel like it will be 10 times worse. stop i didn’t realize how much i’d yap hope you don’t mind…

mmmm, I love ramblings <3

Tbh I was already thinkin of doing a general “what kind of yandere are they?” Post, this gives me a lil head start on it, teehee.

Riddle - riddle is WORSE pre overblot! Because overblot teaches him to be less strict. So after overblot, he’s more forgiving with you, even if he wants to just keep you locked up. But pre overblot riddle is an extremely strict and possessive yandere! You are his king of hearts, therefore you must stay beside him and FOLLOW HIS RULES! No exceptions, even for his darling! Especially for his darling, you are supposed to help lead by example! He can’t stand it when you misbehave in front of the others, no matter how much he loves you. It’s only after his overblot he becomes far more lenient, and it is only after his overblot that he starts treating you with exceptions. He doesn’t want to be like his mother, after all. So he shows you proper love and affection, instead of just rules rules rules. And post overblot riddle feels so so so fucking bad for basically putting you through a speed run of what he GREW UP WITH, which gives you an extra bit of leniency, as well.

Leona - Leona is pm the same pre or post. Like at most he will try a little harder after his overblot to have you. He also will likely be more interested in you after his overblot.

Azul - Azul could very well be worse after his overblot. He watched all his contracts go up in sand. And he went from being fairly confident in himself to once again feeling pretty self conscious, as you said, he had all his insecurities on display. I imagine that after his overblot, more of his confidence is for show. He is SHAKEN after that, in a way that the others aren’t necessarily. All this greatly increases his desire to have you, and have you completely, in a way that leaves no room for doubts. He’ll find somewhere even more secure than where he kept his contracts just for you.

Jamil - I agree, I see Jamil as far more blunt. Pre overblot, tbh I imagine you’d be a secondary goal. Like he’s been waiting so long for this opportunity, he’ll deal with romance later. And/or romancing you is a goal he views as going hand in hand with his takeover—like replace Kalim, charm the girl, that’s not two steps, that’s one and a half, y’know? He’s charming you while he ruins Kalim. But after overblot, he’d probably just walk up to you, no bullshit, just “I like you. I am asking you out.” But if you reject him… well, wtf else is he supposed to do besides try to slither his way into your a heart? Oh but one way to guarantee he’s worse post overblot is if you prefer Kalim. That is the one thing absolutely un allowed.

Vil - Vil is worse after overblot. Pre overblot he honestly doesn’t think about you that much, sorry. He has competition against Niege and like a million other things on his mind. But you… you make him better. In more ways than one, even. He NEEDS you, his overblot only proves that. He is worse after overblot, because pre overblot he will give you quite a lot of freedom (as in he’ll let you go as you please, but he’s still controlling in the same way he is with pomefiore students), but after his overblot he requires you by his side 24/7 or he will freak the fuck out.

Idia - idk much about his overblot :’) Idia is one I see getting worse tho, in a similar vein to Azul.

Malleus - idk much about his overblot :’) but I very much agree with you.

[dixons-sunshine]

You hummed quietly to yourself in the kitchen of the small two-story house you and Daryl occupied in Alexandria. After a harsh, intense period of fighting with not only the undead but the Saviours as well, it was nice to have some semblance of peace in the aftermath. It had been a grueling process to rebuild the remains of Alexandria from the ground up, but with the help from everyone in the community, as well as from people in other communities as well, Alexandria stood tall and proud once again. With all the houses rebuilt and with additional houses built as well, you and Daryl had opted to claim one of the smaller properties as your own, a sanctuary away from the bustling crowd of Alexandria after an exhausting day.

The paragraph of my first ever work in the The Walking Dead writing community. The story that kick-started this blog into what it is today. in SICKNESS and in health, posted February 25th 2024. Honestly, it feels like a lifetime and no time at all has passed since then. It’s such a surreal feeling.

When I wrote that story, I definitely did not expect anything to come of it. I remember being on season seven at the time of writing that, and feeling my heart break with what happened to Daryl in the sanctuary. I wrote that little comfort fic for myself at first, just to feel better about the hurt that was season 7, but then I thought “hey. I might as well post it. I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it.” And that’s what I did. I posted it and exited Tumblr directly after, and did not touch it again for a whole day. And when I did…

I saw my notifications showing me a bright blue ‘99+’. And I had gained a whole 20 followers, putting my follower count at the time at 29. Seeing that made my heart burst with joy. I could not believe that people were actually enjoying what I wrote. Also, I remember scrolling through my notifications and stopping dead in my tracks when I saw that @angelwings-crossbowstrings, aka one of the people whose stories inspired me to try my hand at writing for Daryl in the first place, had not only liked it, but reblogged it and followed me. My poor mom got bombarded with “holy shit, this amazing writer just followed me!” messages that day. She had no idea what I was yapping about, but she was supportive.

After that, I tried it again. Wrote something, posted it, and it got notes. And then again. I wrote my first installment for my “Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU” as my third ever fic, which is still my most popular series to date. That fic also served as the gateway to people sending me their amazing ideas via requests.

And the hits just kept on coming after that. And I still can’t believe that I get to say that people like my writing. Take that, my third grade English teacher.

This year had its ups, and it definitely had its downs. Due to the fact that I was so excited to get this blog up and running, I pushed myself too hard a lot of times, and I have burnt myself out on more than one occasion. I told myself that if I didn’t pump out fics every day, people would be disappointed in me. I had set high expectations for myself, and I felt so bad when I couldn’t live up to them. However, through lots of reassurance and guidance, I realized that it was unhealthy for me, mentally speaking. I was pushing myself way too hard, and I needed to slow down if I wanted to keep the fun of writing alive for me.

This year, I also had a moment where I was scared. I found something that made me realize that my blog could have potentially been the next target for a known plagiarist, and it made me fearful. I pour my heart and soul into every story that I write, so having the safety that I associate with writing threatened was a terrifying thing. However, thanks to the vigilant creators behind the @fanfic-plagiarism-watchdog blog, my worries were settled. (Although I still keep my eyes peeled for any suspicious activity on that other blog.)

Now, for the ups. Let’s get the negativity out of here. We’re ending this year with a bang.

I never celebrated this, but I reached 1k followers this year! It happened so quickly, I barely had time to register and think of how to celebrate it. At the time of posting this, I’m a little less than 70 followers away from 2k, and I just wanna say thank you to each and every one of you for deciding to stick around. Your love and support means the world to me.

I had a work of mine surpass 2000 notes! That number is still so surreal to me, oh my god.

Not something writing related, but I moved this year. It was definitely a good decision and I don’t regret it at all. It was hard moving everything from one house to the next, but in the end, it was definitely worth it.

I also met some amazing people because of this blog. I still can’t believe that I get to say that I know them on a somewhat personal level. @lazyneonrabbitt, @angelwings-crossbowstrings, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @dixondystopia, @dix0nvix3n, @deansapplepie, @snailss, @remnantsofsleep and @yevmarie.

And I can not forget about my girl @holdmytesseract. You’re one of my absolute favourite people ever and I love you. Keep being your awesome self, sweetheart.

And @thevegandarkelf. I still can’t believe that I get to talk to her on a daily basis. What started out with a comment about how our angels (our OCs, Vec and Georgie) would have been friends in an alternate universe spiraled into, if I may be so bold, a friendship. Taylor has become a huge part of my day-to-day life, and I honestly can’t believe that I get to just text you randomly throughout the day about anything at all. I love you.

I would also like to give the biggest of thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams. Her fic entitled “Plan A” was the first ever work of Daryl I read here on Tumblr, and she was one of my biggest inspirations to start writing after my long hiatus. So thank you for blessing us with your amazing writing, and I can’t wait to read more of what you put out.

Now, to finish this off, I thought I’d give my personal favourite fics I wrote this year:

Daryl Dixon:

Hazelnut—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Was It was Boogeyman?—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams—Young!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Needs To Be Perfect—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Crushes Are For School Girls—Daryl Dixon x Georgianna Hawkins (OC)

Scud Frohmeyer:

Look At Me—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Perfect End—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Performance—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Murphy MacManus:

Make A Move—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

The Safety—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Irish Man In A Closet—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Thank you all so much for sticking with me this year. I love each and every one of you so much, and I can’t wait to embark into the new year with all of you.

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, and happy new year in advance!