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birdofdawning · 2 years ago

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Sleepovers

@madronash said this should be a thing.

A continuation of Sleepovers, featuring an actual sleepover.

Chapter 3

Myka is feeling full and happy and ever so slightly sleepy after two glasses of wine as Helena lets them into her apartment. It’s in a 1930s building, all brick and ornate glass and ironwork, and is so Helena Myka feels like hugging herself. The room before her is a collection of dark shapes lit only by the pale city lights falling through a tall set of bay windows. Her boots step onto a wooden floor.

Then Helena flicks on a light and Myka says “Oh”. She had forgotten how messy Helena was. There are orphaned pieces of machinery sitting on small tables, on chairs, on a window sill, but mostly carelessly arranged around a soldering station set up on the kitchen counter. Hand drawn diagrams and lists have been pinned haphazardly to the walls (Myka briefly worries about Helena’s security deposit) or lie, scattered, around the floor. There is a large map of the constellations taped slightly askew above a bookshelf, and an old movie poster proclaiming ‘Carl Laemmle presents H. G. WELLS’ Fantastic Sensation THE INVISIBLE MAN’. On the back of the door Helena has just closed behind them is a calendar featuring ‘fancy pigeons’. But she can see no other pictures, nothing more personal.

But books! There are books everywhere. Myka remembers Helena’s packrat habits from the few exciting weeks she worked as a fellow agent. Even after Helena — and her room — had disappeared, Myka was still finding odd paperbacks and secondhand novels secreted away around the Bed and Breakfast for months after her own reinstatement. Honestly, these constant little reminders of Helena, and of how stupidly happy Myka had been, probably drew out a bad time longer than it needed to be. She allows Helena to take her coat and steps forward to examine the nearest pile of books.

“Perhaps it’s a little cluttered?” says Helena, who has apparently been looking at her space with fresh eyes. “They’re very small rooms,” she adds, hopefully, “Though I still pay an appalling amount for them,” she finishes, more gloomily.

“It’s… charming. ‘The maid’s day off’ I guess?”

“I don’t have a maid.”

“No, that’s a thing people— actually, don’t worry. I guess you did have maids once.”

“Oh, as soon as we could. It was a status thing. And once you could afford domestic staff — who were worked like serfs, by the way, I should know — you were expected to drop all your friends who didn’t have servants.” Still holding Myka’s coat she looks around for somewhere to put it. After a moment she hangs it over a nearby dressmaker’s dummy. “We didn’t drop people, though, Charles and I. We were Bohemians.”

This is probably the most Helena has shared about her previous life in three years, and Myka desperately tries to think how she can keep the conversation going. But Helena’s pocket buzzes and the moment is over. “Excuse me,” she says, taking her phone out and reading whatever is there, “I should deal with this. The bedroom is through there, and the bathroom beyond.” And she steps toward the windows, absorbed.

She has a girlfriend remembers Myka. Her own phone remains firmly turned off, so she takes the top book from the pile beside her and carries her duffle bag into the next room.

Helena’s bedroom is slightly less messy than the rest of the apartment, but Myka can still easily see which side of the bed she favours by the papers and books piled up on the floor and side-table beside it. She drops her bag onto the other side, secures her weapon in its case, and changes into yoga pants and her oversized Eagles t-shirt. In the next room she can hear Helena speaking quietly to someone, so she takes her toothbrush and steps into the bathroom, least she be tempted to eavesdrop.

Ten minutes later, when Helena comes to find her, she is propped up in bed reading Lord Edgware Dies.

“I had forgotten you wore glasses,” says Helena. “A bespectacled Bering. What are you reading?”

“Oh, just a Cozy,” says Myka, smiling happily.

“A Cosy.”

“Oh, you’d probably call it a Whodunnit.”

“A Whodunnit.”

“Or, no, perhaps that term came later. One of these,” she waves the paperback, “A mystery novel based around a crime, usually murder, with a small number of potential suspects. And the puzzle is the point of the story.”

“Ah, yes.” Helena takes off her own coat and, after moment’s thought, hangs it from the top of the open door.

“It must be exhausting, still catching up with everything even after four years,” says Myka, “I don’t know how you manage.”

“I take a lot of hot showers,” says Helena, slowly beginning to unbutton her shirt. She stares expressionlessly at the bed. Myka wonders what she’s thinking.

“It’s nice when I find a new one.”

“What?” says Helena.

“A Cozy. One I haven’t read before. Because I always remember the solution? So I can’t really reread them.”

“Ah.”

“… Are you going to get changed? Into pyjamas?”

“I suppose I am,” says Helena. She opens a nearby drawer and starts rummaging through it. Myka goes back to her book.

She’s onto the third chapter when Helena comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered, and wearing a long white night-gown. Myka laughs out loud in surprise.

“You can shut your head,” suggests Helena airily, pulling back the covers and getting in beside her. “I can’t sleep comfortably in all that,” she points a circling finger at Myka’s t-shirt, “… so it’s either this or…” she trails off, and then: “I have a breakfast appointment at eight. Do you mind if I turn off the main light?”

“Oh, I think I’m done.” Myka glances at her page number and places the paperback on top of the pile of books on her side of the bed. She pulls her glasses off and yawns. “Tired.”

“I’m not at all surprised. You’ve had an intense day. Beleuchtung!” Abruptly the room is dark, the only light coming from the dim room beyond.

Myka pretends she isn't a little impressed. “I’ll probably wake up at five and go for a run.”

“Of course you will,” says Helena. “I won’t. So don’t wake me up. There should be a key…” she stops to have a think about where a key might be. “Or you could just take the ones in my coat pocket,” she decides.

There’s a moment of silence. Then Myka gasps. “Helena! You forgot to brush your hair one-hundred times!”

A sharp elbow digs into her arm and she sniggers, pleased with herself.

“You are overexcited, my girl,” Helena’s voice is stern. “Too much wine, I suspect. I shall have to make sure you take less next time.”

“You’re gonna take me out to dinner again?” says Myka mock-excited, “I didn’t embarrass you too much with my simple country ways?”

“Perhaps asking for a spittoon was a little too much, even for San Francisco, but at least you’ll know for the future. Why, I’ll have you ready for polite company in no time at all. That is, if I wish to win McGillicuddy's wager and repair the fortunes of my estate,” Helena says in an aside to an imaginary audience.

“Take care you don’t fall in love with me, and throw the bet out of misguided sentimentality. And then exile yourself to the continent, drinking too much and consorting with low women because you think I’m too good for you.”

There’s a beat, then Helena’s voice says “Sadly I fear that you have fallen in with a confirmed rake, and will soon discover — and to your detriment, my girl! — that such mawkishness is beyond my character. So yes, if you’re good, I shall take you out to dinner again.”

Myka laughs. “I’ll be good.” She wriggles a little closer to the warm body beside her and sighs contentedly. Tomorrow she will have to deal with Artie and the fallout from her brief text this afternoon, and with Pete being worried and Claudia demanding answers, and maybe even Mrs Frederic. But tonight she is with her friend and happy.

Helena is still talking. “Yes, well, we don’t really have a choice. I’m hardly going to cook for you. I’m not some slavey at your beck and call.”

“I bet you can’t cook.”

Helena sniffs. “I could if I wanted to. It’s simple chemistry, a discipline at which I excel.”

Myka hears her shifting around, and suddenly her breathing is a little closer. She smells of peppermint toothpaste and violets.

“This is nice,” whispers Myka. “I once… um, maybe kinda more than once imagined this. After you told me about sharing a bed with the other apprentices.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. And I imagined how we’d be fifteen and I’d listen to you tell me all the things you were thinking about making stories of. The crystal egg, and the growth formula. Elstead’s bathysphere. You know, no-one invented an actual bathysphere until thirty years after you wrote about it.”

“I did.”

Myka laughs. “Of course you did. But yeah. God, I fangirled over you so bad.”

There’s a pause. “And then I ruined it all.”

“Yeah,” says Myka, because she did.

She lies facing Helena, listening to her slow breathing. She can just make out the shape of her head now, see her black hair spread out over the white pillow.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

They are both still for a time. Outside, beneath them, a bus pulls up and Myka can hear people talking loudly as they stumble off.

Helena stirs. “The other girls thought my ideas were silly. Or strange. They tended to avoid me,” she says. “I was… it was a lonely existence, my adolescence.”

Myka reaches out and finds her hand, because she knows exactly what that was like.

“It wasn’t until I got published… Lord, I was ecstatic, Myka. Even if it was as someone else, a man, even then, having people enjoy my ideas, and discuss them as if they were worth discussion... You can have no idea.”

Myka supposes she can’t, so she just squeezes Helena’s hand.

“Here, working in this city, I am taken seriously. Well, once I show people what I can do. I mean to say, I’m not dismissed out of hand, d’you see? But still, that feeling of capturing the imagination of a nation…” she sighs.

“You miss it.”

“Who wouldn’t? Oh!” And she sits up and twists around, searching for something by the bed. “I was going to read you my—my (where is that bothersome…?)—my story!”

But Myka reaches for her, her arm curling around Helena’s waist, and gently pulls her back under the covers. “Tomorrow,” she says, and Helena allows herself to be drawn close. They end up together in the middle of the bed. Myka keeps her arm around Helena’s waist.

“Tomorrow then,” says Helena, a little gruffly.

She can feel Helena watching her, her breathing a little rougher now, perhaps from the exertion of leaning over the bed.

“Myka?”

“Mmm?”

“When was the last time you slept in a bed with a woman?”

Myka laughs. “God! When was the last time I was in bed with anyone��?” And then they both remember and are silent, but Helena reaches up and begins stroking Myka’s hair. Myka leans into her hand and tries again.

“Tracey, I suppose. Or— no! My roommate when I was pre-law. We’d go to a party or something and then she’d make me come to bed with her.” She laughs, remembering. “God, she was so affectionate when she was drunk, it was funny. I thought she was wonderful.”

Helena doesn’t say anything.

“Nothing. I—” She sighs. “Oh, my darling. What am I to do with you?”

“What?” whispers Myka, because she can feel Helena’s mind working.

Myka smiles to herself. “Nothin’,” she says squeezing Helena gently. “Just be here.” She shifts her head to rest on Helena’s shoulder. “Sleepy. G’night.” She kisses Helena’s neck absently. “Love you.” And she is asleep.

#bering and wells #Sleepovers #myka bering #helena wells #Next morning Myka picks up a book from Helena's side of the bed and finds a photo in it #and it is of her and Helena outside a museum three years ago looking at each other and laughing about something #And Pete managed to get his phone out in time to take it #and Helena printed it out and kept it

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sawdusst · 1 year ago

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Theft of a Crew (Coroika Pirate AU) Chapter 1 ⚓

Hi hello hi!!!!! We're back on the writing grind with another choose your own adventure type thing :D

Sorry if this chapter was a bit boring,, I hope you guys enjoy it :'D I had a bit of trouble arranging a few things but I think it turned out ok!

As I do with all of my posts, here's the link back to the main thread in case you'd like to read more about the pirate AU :D or— or re-read, I guess if you're already familiar with everything.

Anyways, enjoy!

[Word count: 1,128 + some revisions]

“Don’t forget we’re here to pick up some supplies that should last us the next couple of weeks,” Barreleye said, pacing back and forth on the main deck. He scribbled a few other notes on the yellowed sheet of paper, “We also should pick up a few ropes, the ratlines are starting to get worn out. I also think we should buy some extra sails. I'm not sure when's the next time we'll reach land."

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Barreleye walked onto the wooden deck, being met with a bright afternoon sun and a soft breeze that brushed through the piers. He held a tattered piece of paper in one hand and a quill in the other.

“I hope I can get myself a new jacket,” Tako mumbled as the anchor was lowered, “My old one's falling apart.”

“And I wonder if there’s any place where my tri-stringer could get repaired,” Mitsuami said, plucking at a stray thread hanging off the bow’s limbs, “For a fair price too, Hagglefish weapon shops are so overpriced.”

“Tell me about it,” Hornmet interjected, “Seriously, twenty-thousand cash for just a check up??? And it’s just for them to look at it?? As if I don’t already do that every day.”

Barreleye laughed, "I'm honestly just glad to be here. I might stop by a few gift shops myself."

Port Mackerel was a bright and luminous town that was famous for two things: pickpockets and bountiful markets. By sundown the town had a soft and warm glow with the streets lit up by lanterns that hang from one street light to another. It was certainly a city of life and one that never seems to rest.

Once the crew was finished docking the ship, some of them hopped off while other crewmates decided to stay behind.

“We’ll meet back here at sundown,” Barreleye said, “Don’t forget about the supplies! I’ll see you guys later!”

Barreleye and Mitsuami walked down a cobblestone path, passing by an assortment of merchant stalls as they entered the town. They passed by an old, wooden board with withered wanted posters plastered all over it. The ink on the yellowed paper was starting to fade, the bounties barely legible. Newspaper clippings and other posters were stuck onto the board with short daggers. Barreleye had his hands tucked in his pockets with nonchalance as they passed by the wooden board. Mitsuami held her tri-stringer in her hand, following after him and occasionally stopping to look through shop windows. Her pet salmonid rested on her shoulder while they looked around.

Barreleye and Mitsuami walked past the merchant’s stalls that displayed a colorful array of trinkets and other mementos. They passed by a stall with a merchant claiming to sell wood from an “island of shadow” when it was really a bunch of logs painted pitch black.

They walked past another stall directly next to it that sold pieces of a ‘cursed mirror’, which were just regular shards of glass with a yellow tint from regular wear.

“Do you think they’re real?” Mitsuami asked, “I’ve heard no one’s survived a visit to the shadows before… except for maybe a few rare cases…”

“Really?” Barreleye responded, “I didn’t know if it was possible to escape from that island or not. I’ve heard the inner coast of the island is too strong for any boat to sail properly. Once you’re there you’re pretty much doomed.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of it,” Mitsuami replied with a sigh.

While the two were walking, Mitsuami couldn’t help but feel as if they were being watched. Sure, it was a town with a huge pickpocketing problem— they still had those to look out for. However, whenever Mitsuami glanced over her shoulder— she noticed a silvery blue inkling standing somewhere amongst the citizens passing by.

They wore a white shirt with ruffled sleeves and a pair of dark pants. There was an empty holster for a dagger on their waist. They looked exhausted. Their eyes were dull and emotionless. But as other inkfish passed by, the inkling would disappear into the small crowd.

As the two walked, Mitsuami could feel someone was watching them from the passing crowds. She looked around cautiously, holding her tri-stringer close to her chest. Everyone else around them seemed to be minding their own business. She gently tugged on Barreleye’s arm.

“Captain, something doesn’t feel right,” Mitsuami said out of the blue, “Something’s— off.”

The two stopped walking as Barreleye turned to face her. He tilted his head with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I-I’m not sure, actually,” Mitsuami replied with a shrug, she then laughed it off, “Maybe I’m just being extra cautious— you know, cause of all the pickpockets around this part of town and—”

“Did you see something?”

“Yeah I—” Mitsuami turned around, seeing the passing inkfish behind them all appeared to be normal. She tilted her head with confusion. “Huh… that’s weird. I could’ve sworn that—” She trailed off mid-sentence and looked back at Barreleye. “I could’ve sworn I saw someone was there…”

Barreleye turned around, looking in the same direction that Mitsuami was. The two looked carefully at the crowd before Barreleye shrugged.

“Maybe it was just someone passing by?” Barreleye suggested, “It could just be someone going the same direction as us.”

“No… No it’s not like that,” Mitsuami replied, “It was like— they were watching us. I-I’m not sure, I think I’m probably just being overly cautious— like I said earlier.”

Barreleye had a look of concern on his face. He took one last glance towards the bustling crowd and busy streets. There was nothing wrong. Everything appeared to be normal. Businesses were operating as usual and merchants were talking to possible buyers.

“Oh… right—” Barreleye replied, then turned back around, "What was it that we were looking for?"

"The weapon shop?"

"Oh! Right! We should get going then," Barreleye said.

The two continued, eventually arriving at a brick building with a large display window out front with a variety of weapons on display. Barreleye and Mitsuami stood at the front, looking up at the large sign.

“You don’t have to wait for me if you don’t want to,” Mitsuami said, “I could just meet you back at the ship at sundown, like you said earlier.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, drawstring bag of coins. “Hopefully I have enough for a repair.”

Barreleye reached into his coat pocket, taking out his drawstring bag and handing it to Mitsuami. “Here, you could just borrow some from me if that isn’t enough. I think I’ve got at least three or so thousand in there.”

“What? No, no, captain it’s okay— I don’t like owing inkfish money—”

“You can have it,” Barreleye insisted with a smile, “It’s just for a repair. You can pay me back another time!”

“Thank you Captain..” Mitsuami replied.

Once Mitsuami left, Barreleye looked around and wondered what he should do next.

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thank you for reading!!!

im sorry if there wasn't much for this chapter— and also sorry for apologizing so much it's probably growing bothersome HDHDJNFJDNFJ

have a nice day/night!! :D

#coroika pirate au #coroika #splatoon

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duskwoodgirl4life · 2 years ago

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Chapter 17

Cleo's POV

Why would you do this to me? I thought we could make this work? I thought we were making it work. Why did you have to do this to me? Why have you made me feel like nothing else in this work matters? I was a fool to think you had changed. I should have listened to MC and the other MC was right about you, Alan. You are a gutless bastard. I never want to see you ever again.

What am I going to do now? I feel so lost without him, I have to try and put a brave face on things. Tomorrow is Jake and MC's big day. I can't have it spoiled because I need to go and freshen up before I get started on the next bake.

Jake and MC had been shown the honeymoon suit inside there was a massive 4 poster bed, MCs favorite champagne golden edition moet chandon. Rose petals had been scattered all over the bed and on the table was a romantic dinner.

MC: omg!! Jake!! This is so perfect I love you so much thank you

Jake: you are worth every penny my angel

MC was so happy she wrapped her arms around Jake's neck and lightly kissed his lips when their lips parted. Jake pulled away and pulled out a chair at the table for MC to sit down on. They both sat down to a romantic dinner having the best time ever after they finished. Jake suggested going for a walk along the beach and watching the sun set over the island.

MC got up from her seat and went and sat on Jake's lap wrapping her arms around him, their noses lightly rubbed together both smiling as they looked into each other's eyes. MC got off Jake's lap and took his hand leading him towards the door. They walked along the beach hand in hand listening to the ocean. As they were walking along the beach MC found the perfect spot to sit down and watch the sunset. As they got closer MC noticed a couple of large pillows and blankets all set out on the sand.

MC: Did you do this?

Jake: I did I wanted us to have something to keep us warm incase it got cold

Jake took MCs hand both sitting down on the pillows, MC was sitting in between Jake's legs cuddled up to him. As the sun went down MC put her head back on Jake's chest and kissed him.

MC: Do you think we can make it back to the room?

Jake: Well there is nobody else here so….

Jake spun MC around so she was now facing him, he looked deep into her eyes as their lips moved closer to each other. Clothes started flying off Jake grabbed one of the spare blankets and put it over them. This time it was Jake's turn to be on top. MC submitted to Jake every inch of her body craved his touch.

A few hours later Jake and MC lay cuddled up next to each other watching the stars twinkle in the sky. After a while they both got up and dressed and made their way back to the hotel room. The next day Jake made sure to wake early so he could go and get things ready for the wedding. He left a note for MC on his pillow. He had arranged a pampering day for her. He had Jessy help with the dress as Jessy knew MCs style Jake didn't know what the dress looked like as he wanted to stick with some traditions.

Jake went to meet up with Cleo and Jessy to help get things ready, Cleo had done a wonderful job on the cake. Cleo was putting a brave face on things she didn't want to ruin MCs special day. Back in the hotel room MC started to wake up and her eyes met the ring on her finger. She turned over to cuddle with Jake but the bed was empty. She saw the note on the pillow and opened it.

Dear my beautiful angel,

I've arranged a pampering day for you. I want you to have a wonderful time, I will meet up with you soon my love.

Love you forever and always

Jake

Xxxxxxx

MC helped the piece of paper close to her chest and smiled, she could smell Jake's aftershave on the paper. MC quickly went to freshen up, taking a quick shower and brushing her teeth. There was a knock at the door when MC opened it she was greeted by two females. The escorted MC down to the spare where they gave her a facesul, manicure, hair and makeup.

Anna: we have one last surprise for you

MC: What has my sweet man arranged for me?

Anna: He's bought you this beautiful dress

Anna the spa assistant bought out the beautiful white dress, it had a lovely flower pattern on one side. The assistants helped MC with the dress once it was on MC looked in the mirror.

MC: Oh Jake, he's so perfect I can't believe he's done this

Anna: you look beautiful, now there is one last surprise for you just follow the trail of flowers

MC's POV

What has Jake been up to? This dress, the spa day, it's all been amazing. I want to cry happy tears but I fight it. I didn't want to ruin my makeup. I keep following the flower trail that leads me outside onto the beach. As I turn the corner I see Jessy and Cleo standing waiting for me. What are they doing here? I thought no one knew about this place? Well not many people.

Jessy: MC!! You look beautiful

Cleo: you look amazing MC the dress is perfect

MC: Jessy, Cleo what are you doing here?

Jessy: you will find out come with us

MC followed Jessy and Cleo further up the beach as they got round the corner MC stopped her eyes widened. Tears started to fall from her eyes as she saw Jake standing at the altar. All their family and friends were there to watch them get married. MC took a couple deep breaths in and out calming down a little.

Dad: Hello darling, you look beautiful

MC: Dad! I can't believe your here

Dad: Jake phoned and told me and your mum about what he had planned

MC: oh here come the tears again

MC's dad handed her a tissue luckily her makeup was not ruined, the music started to play MCs dad took her arm and they started to walk down the aisle followed by Jessy and Cleo. They reached the altar and MCs dad let go of her arm as she stood in front of Jake. Jake was wearing a light blue suit.

Jake: you look beautiful

MC: I love you

Jake took MCs hand as they said their I do's they kissed each other softly tears falling from MCs eyes. Jake took her by the hand and walked back down the aisle as a married couple.

Cleo's POV

One of my best friends has just married the love of her life. I've been trying so hard to put a brave face on everything my heart hurts so much. I never thought I could feel pain like this in my life, sure I've had breakups before but nothing like this. I've never fallen in love with someone before that changed when I went to visit Alan.

It was like he broke down all the walls around my heart brick by brick, he made me want to love again instead of being so closed off to the world. Every part of my being just wants to go back to my hotel room and pack my bags and go home. I don't want to be here anymore I just want to go back to my apartment and shut out the world.

I am forcing myself to stay for MC and Jake. She looks so happy, she found someone special that she can be with for the rest of her life. I feel so pathetic everything feels like it's closing in on me. I need to get out of here. I can't stay. I run back to my room thinking that no one has noticed me. As I run I hear a voice behind me shouting my name. I turn around and see Jessy running up to me with a look of concern on her face. I try to force myself to keep running but my feet won't move. It's like they are stuck to the ground.

I couldn't control my emotions any longer and it all came flooding out, Jessy doesn't say anything she just wraps her arms around me and holds on to me. I couldn't stop the tears from falling. They just kept coming. I just sat there on the ground clinging onto Jessy's arms. I don't know where it came from but I somehow managed to tell Jessy what had happened. I told her how Alan had left me all alone. I still had the letter in my bag so I pulled it out with shaking hands. I show Jessy the letter and she holds onto me even tighter.

Jessy's POV

After the wedding I tried to find Cleo and saw her running towards the hotel, so I decided to go after her. It wasn't like her to do this so I knew there must have been something wrong. I finally managed to catch her up and she looked so upset I've never seen her like this before. I don't say anything. I let her get it all out. I just hold onto her as she cries into my arms. She calms down a little and tells me what has happened. She shows me the letter that Alan left her.

I couldn't believe that he would do something like this to Cleo, I thought he was supposed to care and love her. I know things didn't start out on the best terms but I thought they had worked it all out. Cleo was so happy when she told me she had been to see Alan and they just clicked. She never intended to fall for him but there was just something about him that she fell in love with.

I managed to calm down Cleo enough to take Cleo back to her room, once we got back to her room I sat her on the bed and got us both a drink. We sit talking for a few minutes when Cleo says she's going to freshen up and fix her makeup. A few minutes pass and Cleo comes out of the bathroom with her makeup fixed. I can see in her eyes that she is feeling a little better for having gotten everything out in the open. We decide to head back down to the reception and go find the happy couple. We find them just about to start their first dance as husband and wife.

MC and Jake take their first dance as husband and wife, each have their arms wrapped around each other. MC pulls Jake closer to her and kisses him softly on the lips tenderly. The song comes to a stop and Jake and MC share another kiss before going to take their seats.

They both sit down and enjoy a beautiful meal and amazing champagne, MC turns to Jake and takes his hand.

MC: I love you so much Jake, the surprise today nearly knocked me off my feet. I didn't think I could be this happy.

Jake: I love you to MC, I had it planned for a few weeks I just needed to ask you to marry me

MC: How did you know I would say yes?

Jake: because you can't say no to me

Jake couldn't help but giggle because he knew MC had a hard time saying no to him as the night went on everyone was having a great time. Cleo made Jessy promise that she wouldn't tell MC about what happened with her and Alan at least not yet. As the night drew to an end Jake and MC went to take a walk along the beach. They went and sat in their spot and watched the stars listening to the sound of the ocean.

Alan's POV

Now that I've left the island and Cleo behind I find myself at a complete loss. Have I made a massive mistake? Should I have fought harder? No, this is what I wanted. This was the only way to give Cleo any chance of a normal life. She can find someone who can give her all the things I can't. I have to let her go, this is the only way. The plan was to come back home, gather a few more things then leave. I hadn't decided on where I was going. All I knew was I wanted to leave duskwood. If I am doing this then I need to do it now.

I grab my car keys and throw my bags into the back of the car, starting the engine I drive away leaving everything and everyone behind me. This is a fresh start. I can find somewhere else to live for a while, maybe even sell my house. After driving for a few hours I come across a small town where there are flowers all around making everything look bright and happy. I think about maybe finding a bed and breakfast somewhere but I decide to keep on driving. The further I go the more busy it becomes as I reach a large town as it's starting to get dark. I decided to find a hotel for the night.

I found a hotel not far from the town center. I lay on the bed and I can hear traffic and people going past. My thoughts drift back to Cleo remembering all the lovely moments we shared together. While we hadn't been together long I knew I had fallen in love with her. I get shaken from my thoughts as my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pulled it out and took a look at the ID it was my physiatrist she was calling to see how I was doing.

For a moment I decided not to take the call but then I slid my thumb across and answered. We talked for a while mainly about Cleo and how I have made the choice to leave her. A big part of me was hoping for her to agree with me pulling away from Cleo and moving on. How I was wrong she was surprised by what I had done she explained that it is okay for me to be happy. She told me that if I did truly love Cleo then I should go and get her.

I hang up the phone trying to take on everything that was said, running away from being happy really the way I want to spend my life. This is not what I want and I damn well know it. I grab my bags and race back down to my car. I take a moment to calm down as I don't want to have an accident. I start the car up and drive back to the Island. It's going to take me all night but I have to do this.

I arrive at the boat just as the sun is starting to rise. It feels like a lifetime waiting for the boat to dock at the other side. As soon as I reach the other side I grab my bags and run towards the hotel. I ask the receptionist if I can leave my bags with them, which they kindly let me do as I go up to Cleo's room. I knock softly on the door and wait for Cleo to answer. I can hear her moving about and she opens the door.

#duskwood #everbyte game #duskwood jake #duskwood hacker #iamjake #duskwood jake x mc #i love you jake #jake x mc #he loves me #i love you #coffee shop romance #coffee shop #duskwood cleo #jessy x richy #duskwood jessy #alan bloomgate

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brandonjohnbarnard · 26 days ago

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Production history around: Disseminate

Today I am going to be going over the roundabout way in which ‘Disseminate’ came to be.

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While reading around the topic of ‘Nouveau Réalisme’, I came across something which I used to always enjoy doing as a kid and which I had forgotten about.

Exquisite Corpses! This is the game you play with your friends where you fold a piece of paper into different sections, and each person takes turns drawing a part of the overall picture, but no one can see the previous work until everyone is finished. To be honest, I had no idea that this was called an ‘exquisite corpse’, and neither does anyone else I talk to about it. Everyone knows the game in some capacity, but just know it as ‘that paper game’.

(An exquisite corpse that was made on the 24th of August 2024, when I was in the early phases of my thoughts. It was done by me (hat), my wife Isobel (the face), and my friends Louis (shoulders) and Art (hands).)

In terms of my PhD (Chance in Filmmaking), this is a great look into collaboration as a form of chance. The overall creation is heavily influenced by factors outside of each contributors control, yet everyone has a nice equal level of impact. I love these things.

I was wondering how I could create something similar in terms of filmmaking, so I decided to reach out to other creatives so we could make a collaborative art piece called ‘the Corpse Project’ — very creative I know.

(The poster I threw together for it.)

9 people (8 + myself) noted that they were interested after a few days of asking around.

The way the project would work was each director would create a 1-minute film, and then pass on this minute to another director so that they could continue the narrative. This way, you were forced to work with what another person decided to do, and needed to figure out how to problem solve. How would you replace actors? How would you match their style? Would you even try to? etc. etc.

This process would have resulted in 9 short films, that were each 9 minutes long, that would have had equal contributions from 9 different directors.

The timeline was that each director was expected to contribute 1 minute every 2 weeks. This meant that the final films would be completed after 4 and a half months.

My wife made a turn order schedule (she is a maths person and lover of logic puzzles) that meant that no two directors proceeded or followed one another in separate films. So for example, each person got to start a film, each person got to end a film, and each person always had a different person’s work to follow on from. Isobel made the 6 person version, and my friend Louis made the 9 person version.

Very interestingly, ChatGPT could not create this chart at all. It always broke the rules in one way or another.

(The schedule Isobel created, allowing 6 directors.)

To skip forward through time a bit: out of the 9 people involved, only 2 people submitted in the end. The main reasons for this was:

Time constraints.

The worry about being good enough to work with other people.

Not knowing how to do a production solo — always part of a team on separate ventures.

If I were to try this again in the future, I would make sure it was way more casual. Even if it took a year, it is better than nothing. Overall, I learnt a lot from this process.

💿 Film Idea 1: Bin Creature 💿

I wanted to create a film where someone was at a construction site chatting away, when they suddenly notice a bunch of noises behind them coming from a bin. They investigate, and are so worried by what they see, that they call their supervisor. Their supervisor, incredulous, goes over to see what is up. After seeing what is in the bin, they also run away.

(My doodle storyboard, made on the 4th of September 2024, at 10AM (now that’s specific note taking!).)

In terms of the corpse, I was really excited to see what people would do with this premise. Would the next scene be the FBI/MI5, or the creature attacking people? Would the creature transform into something else? Would it take their point of view?

The plan was for me to be the initial construction worker, and for Louis to be my supervisor. I created a bunch of props for this role, and made sure to gather any supplies to help sell the bit.

However, when it came to the day of filming, it rained. I told Louis we should reschedule.

💿 Film Idea 2: Toilet Creature 💿

Okay. So if filming outside was going to be an issue, and I was struggling to arrange people to come over within the timeframe, I needed to problem solve for this.

As such, I created a version of the previous story that took place inside, with just myself as an actor, and someone on the phone.

At this point I was stressing. I told so many people to work within 2 weeks, and suddenly I too was struggling to have something created. I felt like a bit of a hypocrite.

💿 Film Idea 3: Cursed DVD 💿

I was watching some Björk music videos, because I think her stuff is rad, but also I wanted to slowly get through her entire discography. I was making a tier list of which of her songs I liked more than others.

(Where I am so far, don’t @ me lol. I am sure these will all change around as I listen more.)

Well, I was watching the music video for ‘Declare Independence’ and I was really enjoying how Björk uses non-realistic ways to show off concepts. I am very particular about some things, and want to do them ‘correctly’. Seeing someone purposely depicting concepts like influence via media in a more abstract way was very refreshing. I wanted to make something like that with film creation.

(Original idea card from the 13th of September 2024, at 18:32.)

Originally, the film had nothing to do with me and my work. It was just about a person creating a cursed DVD.

The greenscreen monitors were created by having a jpeg of green opened up on each monitor.

(Don’t be a desk detective now 😉.)

This had the cool, and unintended consequence, of causing my face to glow bright green. This is what my PhD is all about — a chance discovery has resulted in a film technique being learnt that can me repeated, purposefully, in the future. It is great that this does not affect the background, meaning only my face is picked up by the chromakey.

(You won’t like me when I’m angry.)

In order to see if this effect was worth pursuing, I created a short demo of me playing with the chromakey. This is where the final seed of this production was planted.

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In order to test the chromakey, I put previous film, ‘Graffiti’, in the background. While the decision to have ‘Disseminate’ be about me and my films was not decided in this moment (it happened when I had all the footage and finally decided to edit it all), the possibility entered my mind here.

The final background shot (on the monitors and my face) was made by taking all of my films, increasing the transparency, and layering them all on top of one another. I also juggled the position of them so one film was not dominant over another.

I really like the accidental symbolism of it all. That creating a film is both ‘what comes from within’ being put onto the editing timeline, but also that your previous creations influence your later ones. Not only that, but the act of creating is an influence (the current typing being internal as well).

That once a film is out there is the world, the influence leaves you and is free to change people in a way that is out of your control. You create media, but its lasting impact has way less to do with you and your decisions.

I also like the scene of multiple versions of me going to the post box. Could it be that in releasing a video, you go through the same journey again and again, or that the previous yous are present in that moment. Is it again the building up of influence and experience over time. Again, once we reach the post box, we disappear. From the moment of release, our connection to the creation is severed. I’m not sure, but I like the shot.

An interesting cheat I discovered for corpse creation is allowing some breathing room at the end of a scene. Because this was created for the Corpse Project, the run-time of the production is exactly 1 minute. An element that helped with that is allowing a buffer shot. In this instance, it was the sky. Thinking about the idea of transmission and etherealness, it works nicely, and also for someone to continue the piece from here, I feel a buffer like this would make it less jarring.

The song used in this film is ‘Warped Melody’ by Komit.wav — I like these sense of building up that it gives, as well as the vibe of pushing forward into the unknown. It is alien and upsetting (in a good way!).

💿 Side Note 💿

On a meta-note, here is the meta note I created for this article.

I would like to catch up with my previous films in terms of articles, and start releasing them as I publish the films. The film I am currently working on is a doozy, so it is taking a while.

Thanks for reading ❤

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latenightsimping · 2 years ago

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Kink the 1st - Shibari

Summary: After a bad day, all you want is some downtime with your boyfriend. And downtime includes some rope and a whole lotta fun.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word count: 4,693

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, bdsm, shibari (using rope), oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos), aftercare, lots of fluff, sex with a lil humour sprinkled in as a treat, just quite sweet really? porn with plot, softdom!Eddie, sub!reader, reader has a vagina, use of petnames (sweetheart, angel etc.)

AN: Massive shoutout to @mantorokk-writes, @steve-harringtons-slut & @charlie-heatons-whxre for giving me a boot up the arse to get Kinktober kicked off! Hoping to do at least once a week? I got ideas for the next one, but if there’s anything you wanna see please lemme know! Hope you enjoy!!

You’d both had a hell of a day.

Everything that could go wrong, had gone utterly wrong. Murphy’s law, and all that. Work had been a drag; usually, you could have sworn the diner was cursed or haunted, considering how temperamental the old machinery in there could be. Today? Today, you were sure gremlins had snuck in during the night shift and were determined to fuck with you any way possible. The coffee machine went bust, the dishwasher refused to turn on, and to top it all off, your boss was in one of his shitty moods.

You’d finished up your day shift in a mood that caused your whole features to harden, practically scowling the whole way on your walk home. Usually, you didn’t mind the twenty minutes it took to get to your little run down home, but it was just that little bit too cold to be pleasant, and you’d forgotten your jacket on your rush out the door. Yet another straw to the camel’s back, and you could feel yourself beginning to break.

Though the dark cloud looming over your head didn’t shift fully, it lightened a few shades as soon as you stepped through your front door. The place was pretty run down; when you had first moved in, you could tell the previous owner was still firmly stuck in the 60’s. Wallpaper peeled off the walls, stained jaundice from cigarette smoke, and the kitchen was in desperate need of a renovation, “A fixer upper,” Eddie had told you, when you’d first seen it with him. At first, it all felt like too much. Sure, it was the only thing you two could sensibly afford, but it was hard to see the bigger picture. Luckily, Eddie could see that picture clearly. You kind of missed that honeymoon phase now, when you’d first moved in and spent your free weekends decorating. Painting the walls side by side as the radio played, only getting into a paint fight once. Alright, two times, but you couldn’t leave Eddie that smug that he was the victor. He was quite the handyman, as it turned out. Wayne had come to help, lugging heavy toolboxes, and the Munson men had got to work fixing loose fittings and squeaky hinges. You’d supplied the beer and lunch, watching the two men from a distance as you painted old photo frames that you’d thrifted.

Your home wasn’t perfect. A lot of the furniture didn’t match – a few pieces plucked from various dumpsters around town, the rest second-hand – some doors still had to be jiggled just right to open and close, and your oven seemed to have an attitude problem. But it was yours and Eddie’s. Various photos of moments of your relationship together dotted surfaces and walls, his beloved posters hung neatly in different rooms. His amps and guitars in the living room, your battered old record player and collection of vinyls beside them. Home wasn’t bricks and mortar. It was a feeling. It was feeling safe, and secure, and remembering that the stain on your couch was thanks to Dustin spilling Pepsi when he jumped out of his skin during a Halloween movie night. It was a feeling that soon, Eddie would be home, and you could ease each other’s minds without having to put much effort in.

You heard the roar of his van while you were making dinner, music blasting and no doubt pissing off the neighbours even further. By the time you took the plates out of the cabinet, you heard the front door unlock, Eddie’s voice calling out he was home. You could tell instantly that he had just as much of a shit day as you had by voice alone. The usually melodic timbre now sombre and flat, sounding bone tired. As he came into the kitchen, though he graced you with a smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes like it usually did. It made your heart slightly ache as you frowned at him. “Bad day?”

He hummed in agreement, hands coming up to scrub his face as he leaned against the counter. “Phil’s been riding my ass all day,” he murmured through his palms, arms dropping as he winced. “Shit, sorry baby. Didn’t mean to come in and just start complainin’.”

“No, tell me about it,” you said as you shook your head, busying yourself with serving up as Eddie moved to set the table. No matter what mood you were both in, it was a routine heavily engrained by now. Whoever cooked, the other would set the table and clean up after. Pretty much muscle memory, at this point.

“First of all, Tina called in to let us know that her kid had broken his arm falling out of a damn tree, so I was left to fend for myself. Then the shipment for that Dirty Dancing album still didn’t show yet again, and I had to deal with hormonal teenagers complaining no fuckin’ end about something I have no control over, y’know? It’s like they expect me to magically pull CD’s out of my ass or something.”

You nodded along as he complained about his day, pottering around the kitchen to grab a couple of beers and finally sitting yourself down at the dinner table. As Eddie talked between mouthfuls of food, you could see him starting to ever so slowly unwind. Having someone to vent to always helped him, and no doubt he was hangry from not being able to grab more than a couple of bites at work. He loved working at the record store, for the most part. He knew about music probably better than anything else, and it was usually slow and steady work when new releases that swept Hawkins like wildfire were readily available. But it seemed like for the both of you, today was just one of those days.

“But enough about me,” he sighed after a few moments of silence, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. “What about you? You look tired.”

“Feel tired,” you chuckled, shrugging as you leaned back in your chair. “Just the diner gremlins acting up again. You know, the usual.”

“Ah,” he nodded, clicking his teeth with his tongue. “Should really cast banishment in that place.”

The serious tone of his voice, mixed with that whisper of a smirk, never failed to make you smile. “Yeah, should really get on that,” you nodded with a mock look of sincerity. “Hard to find any warlocks around town, though.”

You both smiled, tensions easing as you fell into that comfortable bliss that you could both create with one another. The rest of the meal was spent with small talk; everything and nothing, including Eddie asking you if you’d still love him if he was a worm for some reason. To which you replied honestly. Of course. Only the finest soil and decaying leaves for worm Eddie. That seemed to cheer him up.

At first, you wondered if he wanted to just cuddle for the night, considering how you both had a long day. But it seemed that the good meal had given you both energy, and all it had took for you to agree with his slightly raised eyebrow as he suggested going to the bedroom for a bit of playtime was that certain look in his darkened eye as he gestured his head towards the stairs. It was something you both enjoyed often, especially when both of your minds were racing. A way to turn your brains off, for one to relinquish control and the other to reclaim it. Working in tandem to a headspace where nothing but each other’s bodies existed, soft inhales and exhales between locked lips and soft sounds of ecstasy. And by the look on Eddie’s face, he needed it just as badly as you did.

…

“Turn around a little for me, angel.”

It had felt like hours since you started, but you knew it was realistically not too long ago. The sun had settled behind the horizon just before you sat down on the bed, the bedroom now softly illuminated by the lamps on the bedside table. Eddie had taken his time undressing you, pressing kisses to your skin after each layer was dropped to the floor, beginning to sink you into that place in your mind where everything became slightly fuzzy and dreamlike. He had chosen the hemp rope from the selection that you had both acquired that lived in the bottom drawer of your dresser, and you slowly closed your eyes as you relaxed into the feeling of the soft strands whispering across your skin as he worked.

From the endless conversations that you’d had with Eddie about using rope, you knew it had just as much of an effect on him as it did for you. But it came from another angle. Where you were happy to give up the control for the however hours it took, revelling in the sensation of being restrained and cared for, he found it intensely helpful to have a single thing to work on. He wasn’t thinking about work, or bills, or the trash that needed to be taken out. He was thinking of the intricate folding and gentle tugging of the rope to create works of beauty that made you look so ethereal, so beautiful, nothing else but the here and now. It soothed his mind that was constantly racing about a hundred different things at once, and it was nice to have a repetitive, comforting task. And you have to admit, he was getting really good at it. He would spend hours pouring over books that he got from God knows where, always wanting to try new positions or knots. And you were more than happy to indulge.

Tonight, he had chosen his favourite ties. A pentagram harness that decorated your chest and cupped your breasts, using the extra length to secure your arms in a box tie. Both hands cupping your elbows as comfortably as they could, with enough rope to let them rely on the strands to hold them up. He was getting started on your legs, and judging by the way he wanted you kneeling and the two lengths of red rope in his hands, you had an idea with what he wanted.

Shifting yourself as much as you could with his helpful grip on you, you turned to face the foot of the bed, halfway down the length of it to give you enough space. His warm hands lingered on your skin, smoothing over it as you softly sighed at the sensation.

“Still with me?” he whispered, taking great effort not to be too loud in case it startled you. He knew that you were more fragile in this state, always attentive to when your shoulders slightly sagged and your lips parted. You nodded slightly, and you heard him huff in slight amusement as he gently squeezed your knee. “Need to hear you, baby.”

“Still here,” you murmured, taking a second to take a deep breath before you opened your eyes. Your gaze drifted to him, and you could melt under the look he was giving you. It wasn’t the hard, steely glare that he sometimes had when you played rough, the one that sent shock waves to your core. The look still held control, but God, he was looking at you like you were the finest masterpiece that he’d ever laid eyes on. It made you feel like a priceless piece of artwork in the best way possible; like you were made to be looked upon and revered, worshipped even. But you wanted him to continue, and to finally sink into that place where nothing existed outside of those four walls. “I’m green, Eds.”

He smiled at your use of the traffic light system that you used – green for continue, orange for slow down and red to stop completely – and pressed one final kiss to your temple before he resumed his work. As you suspected, it was a frog tie. Your thigh secured to your calves, making it impossible to move your legs and keeping you kneeling. You opened your eyes just enough to watch his face as he secured the final ties, and you couldn’t help but smile as you noticed the way the tip of his tongue was peeking from his lips, eyes narrowed as deft fingers pulled and knotted the strands. He must have caught you staring out of his periphery, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he tucked away the loose ends and leaned back to take you in. “Well, aren’t you lookin’ all pretty? Gimme a lil wiggle, gorgeous.”

You did as he asked, being careful not to topple over as you struggled against the restraints. Just like you knew would happen, the ropes didn’t yield, sparks shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy when you realised that you were truly helpless. You could feel how wet you’d become during his work, most likely already forming a damp spot on the sheets. You knew he liked to watch you squirm, and you could tell it was having an effect on him. He was still fully clothed for now; you knew it was for a reason. A non-verbal show of who had the power, and it fuelled your headspace like logs to a fire. But you wanted him to touch you so bad, to finally give that part of you attention that was now grabbing all your attention, and you let out a small whine as you bit your lip, giving him your most sultry look to try and entice him.

Eddie could read you like a book. He knew exactly what you were trying to do, yet he was seemingly playing the clueless card as he tilted his head. “Something the matter, baby?” he asked, a brow raised as he smirked.

“Please,” you mewled, knees separating even further to expose just how soaked you were. “Please Eds, need you to touch me.”

“But I have been,” he countered, face slowly morphing into one of knowing as he tutted once. “That’s it, isn’t it baby? Need me to take care of you? Need me to touch that pretty little pussy of yours?”

You nodded frenetically, letting out another small noise of need as you desperately tried to gain some friction on your clit, trying to rut against the bed and failing to gain any contact thanks to the position you were in. “Please, I wan’ it,” you whimpered, worrying your lower lip between your teeth.

You watched as he reached behind you, laying down two pillows behind your back and pressing a large palm to your chest, fingers curling under the pentagram of your tie as his other hand rested on the back of your head. Gently laying you down with a show of control that had you reeling, you settled on your back, thankful that the pillows left a gap for your arms to slot into, making the position a lot more comfortable. Your knees came up closer to your chest, falling to the sides and exposing you even more than your previous position. Eddie towered over you, sitting on his haunches as his eyes followed every curve and dip of your body, a look of hunger evident in his eyes as his palms skated over the insides of your thighs. So close to where you wanted him, but not enough. Not nearly enough. “You know the rules, baby. You gotta ask me real nicely,” he murmured, a small smirk on his face as he relished in the power.

“Pleeeease.” Your voice sounded so small, elongating every character or the word as your back arched. “Please Sir, please make me feel good. Need it so badly, wan’ you to make me come so much.”

You knew the honorific would wreck him, and judging by the low groan he let out, you were going to have what you wanted. “How can I resist when you say it all pretty like that?” he said, voice gruff and low in the way that it did whenever he wanted you. You watched as he shifted down the bed, laying on his front as he peppered your innermost thighs with kisses. “Gonna keep those legs open for me like a good girl, sweetheart?”

You nodded vigorously. You’d agree to anything, do anything, sell your soul to the fucking Devil if it finally meant having his mouth on you. And fuck, you almost came when he licked a languid stripe from your entrance to your clit, latching onto the sensitive bud as his tongue swirled around it. Your eyes screwing shut as your head tipped back, the sensations of his moans vibrating against your cunt as he continued his ministrations sending you barrelling towards your climax that much quicker. All you could hear were the sinful sounds of wetness and messy kisses to your slit, Eddie’s mumbles against your skin of “you taste so fucking good,” and “so wet f’ me,” making your legs shake as you rutted against his mouth, desperate for your release. You felt his finger enter you, one at first, hilted to the last knuckle before a second joined it, curling until it hit that spot that made you see stars behind your eyes, that coil deep in your gut tightening and tightening until it reached a near unbearable tension.

“Gonna- Fuck Eds, please, gonna…” You could barely think, barely speak under his skilled tongue and hands, but you wanted his permission. Knowing that with it, you could come undone even harder, until the tiny remains of thoughts finally slipped out of your grasp. All you wanted to feel was the bliss, and to know that he was the one causing it.

“Come for me baby, I got you,” he urged, fingers pumping into you eyen faster, words garbled as he didn’t let up from his task of swirling the tip of his tongue against your bud in dizzyingly fast movements. “Let go.”

It was his words, a final jab to your sweet spot inside you, and a soft suck to your clit that finally snapped the last remaining threads of your tether to reality. Your jaw fell slack into a silent scream, back arched and head thrown back as you tightened around his fingers, hips bucking as you rode out your orgasm. The restraints fuelling it, elongating it, as you writhed underneath them and found no escape. The pure hedonistic ecstasy causing your walls to pulse, even after Eddie removed his fingers from you.

Crowding over you after you managed to catch your breath and wrench your eyes open, Eddie kissed you with fervour, all teeth and tongue as he settled his weight onto his forearms on either side of your head. You could taste yourself on him, a pleasant tang that you grew to love whenever he kissed you after going down on you, the shame long gone about it. “You doing okay?” he murmured between kisses, lips trailing down your chin and across the length of your jaw.

“Green,” you managed to whisper, suddenly needy for him again, now he was finally on top of you. You craved him; you craved the fullness of his cock deep inside you, knowing it’d send you toppling over the edge again. During the moments of your comedown he must have got undressed, since you could feel his bare chest against yours, causing the rope to rub against your skin deliciously with his every movement. “More, please. Need you more, Eds. Fuck me.”

He huffed out a small laugh, now tracing his canines over the soft flesh of your neck, soothing it with his tongue afterwards. “Planning on it, pretty girl. Just gotta check you first, ‘kay?”

You were confused for a second, until he pulled away enough to turn you to your side. You felt his fingers gently pinch the tip of your own, checking for good blood flow. You couldn’t help but smile as you felt it, adoring how even in this moment, he would forgo his own pleasure just in case there was a hint of you being uncomfortable. “Feels fine,” you nodded reassuringly, words ever so slightly slurred. “Can go on for a bit longer.”

You were starting to come back to yourself, though everything was still hazy. Like your mind was replaced with cotton wool, like a fogged up mirror after a hot shower. Placing you back down gently, he smiled as he kissed you again, feeling the expression against your own lips. One of his hands reached between your bodies, and you felt the tip of his cock rub against your slit, eliciting a high pitched keen from you that he gleefully swallowed down as his tongue explored your mouth.

Eddie could be patient, when he wanted to be. And right now? Now, he was pacing you, stretching you out so slowly you thought you would combust. You swore you could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, each thrust stealing the air from your lungs as his lips never left your own. You could hear his soft grunts and whines as a hand comes up to stroke your hair away from your face, his hips setting a slow pace when he finally bottomed out into you.

The fact that this was lovemaking so tender, so stark against your restrained body clad in rope, that made it all the more intense. It’s not like he didn’t have the tendency to be rough with you on other occasions, and as much as you loved it, you were thankful that he chose tonight to worship your body. The bad day you had was so far away, when all you could feel was him, the way he rutted into you so carefully, as if you were made of fine china. The hand that tucked away the errant hairs came down to explore you, brush against your pebbled nipples, one after the other, trailing down your stomach and to where of you both met. Circling around your sensitive clit and made your cries even louder. You knew you weren’t gonna last long.

“M’close,” you managed to puff out, wriggling as much as your prone position afforded you to fuck back against him, the urge to come again starting to balloon inside you, until it was all you wanted.

“Me too,” he replied through gritted teeth, pace beginning to get irregular and more frantic as his hand settled on your hip for leverage. “Come with me baby, ‘kay? Can feel you getting so tight, shit.”

All that could be heard were your mixed sounds of pleasure; his grunts and low moans, your high keens and mewls as you tightened around him, walls pulsing and milking him for all that you could. You felt him twitch inside you, the tightening of his jaw the indicator that he was finally there. He spilled into you for what felt like hours, hips still rutting into you as if to push his cum as deep into you as you possibly could, and you loved the sensation of it. He finally slumped after the last few groans, resting his forehead on yours as he panted hard to catch his breath. You were doing the same, and you loved how you seemed to be breathing in tandem. His exhale to your inhale, and vice versa. Sharing air in a way that felt so intimate, making your head spin as you started to finally come down.

You both lay there what felt like an age, until the ache of your joints finally started to seep in, reality hitting you that you’d been in the same position for a while. Eddie must have picked up on your squirming, pressing one last kiss to your temple before slowly pulling out of you. You gently whined at the loss, and he smiled at it, giving you an apologetic look as he kneeled in between your legs and started to untie them. “You back to Earth yet, space cadet?” he asked you, the little quip making you giggle.

“Getting there,” you nodded, slightly hissing as he ever so gently started to ease your left leg straight, discomfort shooting through your muscles as he did so.

“I know baby,” he murmured, soothing you as he gently massaged your thighs and calves to get the blood flow back to them. “Sorry, should’a thought to let your legs go before I fucked you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you smiled, looking down at him as he worked on the other leg. “Was really fuckin’ hot being fucked like that.”

“God, it really was,” he wistfully sighed, taking a second to marvel at the indents that the rope left on your skin. Tracing his calloused fingertips over them, the motion making you bite your bottom lip and let out a soft moan at how good it felt. “Take it you wouldn’t mind doing this tie combination again?”

“Would I mind,” you scoffed, a playfulness coming back to you as you nudged his waist with your ankle. “If you make me come like that again, you can do it whenever you want.”

“Noted,” he smirked, tossing you a wink as he reached forward to carefully take hold of your shoulders. “Gonna help you sit up, if that’s okay?”

You nodded, allowing him to guide you until you were sitting as he settled you on his chest. You perched your head onto his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne and a smell that could only be described as Eddie as you nuzzled into his neck. “Y’ smell good,” you mumbled into the skin.

You felt his laugh rumble though his chest against yours more than you heard it. “I probably smell like nothing but sweat at this point, sweetheart,” he answered, carefully letting your arms fall to your sides as he took care in massaging them like he had done your legs. “Been at work all day and just came so hard I think I saw God for a minute. Need a shower after all that.”

“Noooo,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck now they were finally free, hating the idea of him leaving your embrace. “Shower later. Cuddles first.”

Though it surely made his task more difficult, he didn’t make you separate from him as he uncoiled the rest of the harness around your chest, shushing you gently as he carefully pulled the beginning knot from around your middle. “M’ not goin’ anywhere yet, sweetheart. Cuddles first, promise.”

That appeased you enough, letting your eyes close as you felt yourself be gently moved until you were laying down, your head on his chest and hearing his heartbeat begin to slow to a normal pace. He only shifted you one more time, so he could pull the blankets up over you, making sure you were tucked in and warm enough as he kissed the crown of your head. “Did so well f’ me, angel. Such a good girl.”

Your only answer was a small hum of acknowledgement, sleep starting to pull at your mind as you began to drift away. You were so cosy, and so warm and felt so loved. You could barely remember what had led you here, to this moment. All you knew was that before, you were having a bad day. Now, you were finally so relaxed that you couldn’t find it within yourself to move.

“You fallin’ asleep on me baby?” Eddie whispered, sounding amused as he stroked soothing patterns up and down your spine, the motion aiding you in drifting off.

You vaguely remember nodding, before you finally dozed off. And you could remember him saying something about a shower, but you were too blissed out to worry about that. Knowing Eddie, he’d probably wake you up in a while to clean you up and get you changed into fresh pyjamas. But right now, all you wanted was him. To feel him so close to you, and to feel protected and cherished in his arms.

And you felt exactly that.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson kinktober #eddie munson x you #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things kinktober #cw:bdsm #cw:nsfw #cw:smut

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phireflies · 2 years ago

Text

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗲

eddie gives you drawing ideas when you're experiencing art block. [wc; 2.3k]

pairing; eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings; swearing and fluff, i think that's literally it (written on my phone so mistakes too)

a/n; is this completely self-indulgent... maybe... i will edit this when i wake up i swear

"i'm at a loss, eds," you say, throwing yourself onto his bed, arms and legs splayed out.

"why's that?" he was fiddling with the strings on his guitar, not looking up at you.

you sigh. "my sketchbook is like, empty and i have to turn it in by friday."

"that's in two days," he states.

"wow really? i didn't know that."

"teasing." he laughs, putting his guitar down, finally looking at you. "all outta ideas?" you nod. "draw me."

when you sit up, your face is so close to his, noses almost touching. "i can't draw you, i'll mess it up."

"then it'll be abstract. c'mon, i'll sit like a statue, i promise!”

you laugh so hard you throw your head back. the thought of eddie munson sitting still, like a statue no less, was wild. he couldn't stop fidgeting as if his life depended on it.

looking over at him, you noticed that he would make a good subject. his hands were really nice after all, the rings the cherry on top. you loved his eyes too, and his hair, and his nose. everything about him.

"okay," you say, smiling. he leans in so your nose touches his, and smiles. "i can draw you."

"fuck yeah, babe! can you do it with a colored pencil? you have those right?"

you nod. "i only have red and blue though."

"red, red's my favorite color."

you nod again, confirming the color. eddie had taken you home, to his home, after school like always, so you had all of your art supplies with you. it wasn't much, a few hb pencils, pens, and two colored pencils.

inside, eddie was freaking out. he loved your art, and would shower you with compliments and kisses when you showed him a new piece, throwing in a few can you draw hellfire posters? too.

he'd never thought to ask for a portrait before. maybe it was because some part of him, something very deep down inside him, thought it would be scary to see someone else's interpretation of him. he was excited nevertheless.

you pulled out your sketchbook with almost twenty-five percent of it filled and sighed, letting your fingers roam around the cover - feeling the divots of when you pushed your pencil too hard in to make a mark, meaningless doodles, and words.

"you can go back to doing whatever, i can go from there."

eddie kissed your temple and leaned back to get his guitar. he started messing with the strings again as if they weren't perfect the first time around.

you looked around eddies room, which had somewhat become your room. wayne suggested you move in, to help keep it clean. eddie even made a stack of your clothes on his floor.

"what's the theme of this one? they all got themes, right?" he asked, half distracted.

"uh, not sure. think it's something like family or your idea of home."

eddie smiled to himself. "yeah? you're okay with putting me with that theme?"

you started sketching out his room, the perspective a little wonky but it would turn out fine. "'course eds, not to be all cheesy but you're kinda my idea of home." you are my home, you want to say.

"that's awfully sweet of you." he teases again, but neither of you can deny the blush creeping onto his face. it starts at the tip of his ears. "just so happens that you're my idea of home too. i mean, you put your shoes next to mine!" he repeats what you said, but leaves out the kinda.

you laugh hard again, but don't reply. you relish at this moment, of eddie doing whatever he does, back towards you, but still touching you, and you doing what you love, of who you love.

your focus is turned back onto the page as you start to slowly add in blocks, mapping out the clothes on his floor, the posters, and little trinkets. crosshatching is used to add depth and shadows and make it all look a little better, more real.

when it's finished, you write home at the top right and sign your name under. "look, eds."

"you're a modern da vinci, babe." he pretends to not see the title at the top but smiles like an idiot to himself when he turns away.

you move on to the next page. anatomy. it was never something that you were particularly good at, everything looking a little off.

eddie's backside turns out to be a great reference. you start out with the outline of his back and his hair, then you slowly add details in, carving them in. you don't offer to show him this one.

next, you draw the guitar, where it hangs in front of the mirror. eddie moved on to messing with his amp. you draw the pick on his nightstand, and the box of cigarettes, though you don't draw the label. it's just a box on paper, but you know it's more.

"s'it working?" he asks. you've gotten caught up in your drawing that you didn't realize he sat right next to you again.

you hum, nodding. "i'm tired already."

it was pretty late, and you were pretty tired. "m'tired too. you sure this burst of inspiration won't disappear by tomorrow?"

"nope, because you'll still be here, i hope."

he smiles wide again. idiot, you think. my idiot. "always gonna be here."

with that, eddie helps you get situated to sleep, and you're out.

when the birds outside wake you up, you're excited to draw, your hands itching. you're excited because you get to draw eddie. the entire day was going to be focused on drawing him, his features and his hands and his tattoos, everything that makes him eddie.

because of how the trailer is set, the sun shines bright through his window, perfectly highlighting eddie. the sheets have slid down to his lower back, so you can see the curves of his back and the few light freckles on his shoulders.

it’s perfect, he’s perfect. you have to draw him.

moving as slowly as you can, you reach down to grab your sketchbook off the floor, along with a colored pencil. you mark down the general shape of him, and then work on his face - half in the pillow with furrowed eyebrows and pouted lips. you wonder what he was dreaming about.

you make sure to get the way his hair falls into his eyes and over his shoulder, a few distinct curls on his cheek.

“freak.” he mutters, opening his eyes a smidge.

“you asked for this.”

he huffs, slowly getting up with a groan. “guess i did. can i see?”

you shake your head and move the sketchbook away. “not yet, when i get it back. monday.” you say, promising.

“monday.” he agrees. “d’you want eggs? think that’s all we got.”

you nod. “eggs sound perfect, eds.” smiling, you think back on all of the other times eddie made eggs and how he dumped salt on them.

he stands up to find a shirt and pants, but not before he presses a kiss to your temple and each cheek.

you follow him into the kitchen, still clutching the sketchbook. wayne’s sitting in his chair, sipping a coffee. it was rare to see him so early.

“hi wayne.” you say, to which he turns back and waves.

“you know she’s an artist right?” eddie says, cracking four eggs into a hot pan. they sizzle.

wayne laughs. “‘course i do, you show me everything she’s ever given you.”

your face heats up at the new knowledge. “you do?”

eddie looks sheepish, like you weren’t supposed to know. he shrugs, a red blush painting his face. “i mean, yeah, sometimes.”

“all the time!” wayne corrects with a loud laugh.

eddie scowls playfully and returns to his cooking. attempt at cooking.

while eddie begins to plate the eggs, wayne departs, reminding you to show him more art. wayne was your second biggest fan, after eddie of course.

eddie, thankfully, learned how much salt is too much, so the eggs were edible. “wish we had bacon or something.” he says with his mouth full of food. you’d scold him for that, but you were too enamored with the sight before you.

his hair was a mess, his eyes were still droopy and half-lidded, and he was smiling at you once he swallowed his food. his smile. you wanted it burned into your memory forever.

“this is good.” you manage.

“you’re staring.” he states, smiling even wider.

you scoff, trying to play it off. “i do not stare!”

eddie’s finished with his eggs, so he gets up to clean his plate. he kissed your head as he passes you. “i stare at you too. in a completely normal way, though.”

“that was a normal way!” you join him in cleaning your plate.

the rest of the morning continues like it always does, brushing your teeth together, and getting dressed together, and leaving together.

the rest of the day, however, doesn’t go like you hope it does. you don’t see eddie for much of it, and all you want to do is draw him. it’s a funny feeling, not wanting to do anything but draw and draw and draw. maybe it was something eddie-specific.

before you knew it, you were walking into the drama room to watch eddie’s dungeons and dragons campaign.

the boys all lit up at the sight of you, waving and greeting you, then getting back into setting up.

“babe! how’d the drawing thing go today?” he asked, pulling you aside.

you shrugged. “didn’t do much, didn’t see you much.” he frowns. “i can do more tonight though!”

“you’ll show me?”

you smile, shrugging. “can’t make any promises.”

“god, you’re awful.”

eddie laughs loudly before running to begin the campaign. you have a seat near the table, where you can see the party to either side and eddie in the middle. the glow of the florescent light make it look like he’s got a halo around his head.

as the group progresses in the campaign and gets more rowdy, you decide to draw it. a little sketch, nothing too detailed. you’ve adopted the younger kids, so they fit in with the theme. found family, you think.

eddie’s in the middle with his arms out, and everyone else is at the sides, smiling wide with unique expressions on their faces.

you’ve still got a good chunk of sketchbook left, so you draw the party’s characters. it’s a little unclear what the exact vision was for all of them, but you do the best you can. you end up with numerous half-rendered pieces of their dungeons and dragons characters with the respective player labeled at the top.

by the time you’re done, they’ve finished the session and are cleaning up.

“was that a good one?” you ask when eddie’s done.

he puts a hand on your waist and leads you out to his van. he nods. “one of the best. think you’re my lucky charm, babe.”

“that’s cheesy.”

he pauses, thinking. “you’re right, but wasn’t that sweet? i just came up with that!”

you laugh and push his shoulder. “i could tell.”

“you’re evil.” he smiles, no real harm behind his words. “what’d you draw?“

eddie starts his van and begins to drive out of the school lot. “just you and the party, their characters, stuff like that.”

“y’know, they’d love to see that stuff.”

you nod. “i’ll tear out the pages when it’s all graded. they can keep it if they deem it worthy of their vision.”

eddie snorts. “they love you, of course they’d love it!”

you want to disagree, but eddie turns up his music so you can’t. you glare at him, but it eventually fades into an endearing smile.

once you’re at his trailer again, you’re quick to pick up where you left off - sketching his hands doing whatever he’s doing, in this case, smoking.

you draw his hand with a cigarette between his first and second finger, lightly sketching a line to make a string of smoke. you make sure to get his rings. you continue onto his arm, where he’s rolled up the sleeve. his tattoos are visible, so you draw them too. accuracy is not a concern, as you already know you’ve got them down perfectly. you know him like the back of your hand.

“think you’ll finish by tomorrow?”

you nod, drawing his side profile. “sure i will, i’ve got enough you to last a lifetime.”

“god.” he sighs, smiling to himself.

the page is full, so you turn to the next and focus on his eyes. what they look like when he smiles, the wrinkles in the corners, eyelashes kissing. what they look like when he’s happy and full of fondness. what they look like closed.

“you’re gonna get frostbite.” he says, pulling you you up and into the trailer.

“it’s seventy degrees.”

“it happens, heat frostbite.”

you give him a look, raising your eyebrows. “so… heatstroke?”

“maybe.”

the rest of the night is filled with laughter and funny looks as you try to get eddie’s not-so-patient expression down on the page. you’d have to see the real thing though, a pencil can only do so much.

the remaining pages of your sketchbook are filled with his hands. floating hands cut off at the wrist, just doing random things - holding a pick, practicing guitar, attempting homework, hold your hand. that was the hardest, trying to hold his and draw with the other.

“fucking finally.” you swear, wiping your forehead. “finally finished.”

“proud of you. all of little ole me too.” he smiles smugly, poking your side. “you’re gonna get the best grade on that goddamn sketchbook.”

you laugh, looking at him. admiring him. “i think i did well. you’re my muse now.”

eddie laughs loudly, trying to hide the growing blush on his face. to be someone’s muse was an honor, to be your muse.

you were eddie’s muse, numerous corroded coffin songs being written about you or with you in mind. two different artists, but you were all the same.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things

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burgundybmw · 2 years ago

Text

Munson's Mixtape

Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cunningham!Reader

Word Count: 3,056

Warnings: Brief slut shaming (Jason's a dick)

Summary: Chrissy has been acting weird, and like a good big sister Y/N drives to Hawkins from Notre Dame to check in on her. Only to find out she has plans to meet up with Eddie Munson. Things take a turn for the worse and now Y/N gets wrapped in to the horrors of Hawkins. Hey, at least she has the company of the guitarist she was sweet on back in high school for comfort.

Author’s Note: So I did get ambitious and managed to pump out another chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Track Eleven

It took longer than Y/N would like to pack all of her things, but she was finally finished. After she the left the church she radioed Eddie and told him her plan. She didn't give him many details about what happened at Chrissy's funeral, the hurt still fresh in her mind. However, Y/N did tell him that she gave her parents a piece of her mind. Eddie said that he was proud of her, and wished he was there to see her unleash her righteous fury. Y/N glowed with the praise he gave her, and she held onto it as she packed up her old life.

She changed back into her Notre Dame uniform, most of the clothes left in her childhood home closet was formal wear, so she was left with little choice. Most of the things she packed up were more personal items, things she didn't bring with her to college. Old diaries, her old Hawkins High cheer uniform, the books she couldn't carry in her car when she first left Hawkins. Before she left for good, she took one look at Chrissy's bedroom door.

A part of her still didn't want to go in, thought it would be too painful to see her sister's room without her in it, but there were a few things of her sisters that she wanted to keep. The car was already packed and ready to go, so it would be the last time she would ever see what was left of Chrissy.

Y/N walked into the room, and it was just like she remembered last time she visited over winter break. The ornate yellow wallpaper was crisp and pristine, not a single poster on the walls. Their mother would have thrown a fit if they ruined the paper, so Chrissy put all of her photos on a large bookshelf next to her bed. Y/N took a moment to look at all of the snapshots of Chrissy's life. There was a picture of both them when they were little, Y/N burying her sister in the sand. She took in a deep breath and quickly moved onto the next one, a photo of Chrissy and Jason the night of junior prom. Y/N remembers how Chrissy called her and asked how get to birth control without their mother finding out, and she just laughed at how embarrassed her sister was on the phone. Chrissy chastised her at the time, and now Y/N just wished she could hear her voice again.

The next photos were normal for any teenage girl, pictures of Chrissy and her friends. A school newspaper clipping of the Hawkins cheer squad in a pyramid, her sister at the very top. A few polaroids of her and Jason on dates. One picture surprised Y/N, she never noticed it on the shelf before.

It was a picture of Chrissy and Y/N on graduation day. She was in her cap and gown, Eddie's mixtape in hand. Chrissy was in a blue sundress, a big smile on her face as she hugged her sister. Their dad took the photo, but what wasn't surprising was the two sisters together, it was who else was in the background. Y/N could see Eddie walking towards them, hand in the air like he wanted to get their attention. After he gave her the mixtape, Y/N assumed he drove away, but there he was. She remembered her mother rushing the girls into the car after their dad took the picture, said she wanted to get to Enzo's before the rush. At the time she believed her mother's complaint, but now Y/N thought it was because Eddie was trying to talk to her. She'd have to ask him what he wanted to say to her, if he could remember. It was two years ago.

Y/N grabbed the photo and put it in one of Chrissy's old cheer duffle bag and continued her path around the room. There was the stuffed dog Chrissy always slept with at night, a little black terrier she named Toto. Y/N knew her parents would throw it away, but Chrissy loved it, so she put that in the duffle too. She grabbed the gold locket that she gave her sister for Christmas, a small picture of them both as children inside, and she grabbed a few other knickknacks as well. Y/N found an old scrapbook they made together, and when she sat down on Chrissy's bed to go through it, a thick leather bound book fell out from under the pillow.

Y/N put the scrapbook in the duffle bag and reached for the book. It was Chrissy's diary. She knew that her mother would probably go through it if she found it, and the last thing Chrissy would want was their mother knowing her personal thoughts. Y/N was going to put it straight into the duffle, but she paused. The same temptation to read it when through her head, and she knew it was wrong when she read Eddie's journal, but Y/N couldn't help herself. She opened a random page and started to read.

February 14th, 1984 Dear Diary,

Today is Valentine's Day. Jason is taking me out to dinner later, and for once I'm really excited about it! He bought me flowers, and gave them to me during lunch. A huge bouquet of red roses! Mom gave me a vase to put them in, and they're sitting on top of the dresser. I can't wait to tell Y/N about our date later. I know she doesn't have a date for Valentine's Day, but she said she was going to the movies with her friends today, so I know she won't be alone. Nobody should be alone on Valentine's Day. I was afraid I was going to be after the fight Jason and I got into, but he seems to be over that now. I'm still a little upset with him about what he said, but he seemed sorry. So I guess everything is okay now!

Y/N didn't know about any fight between her sister and Jason back then, they were just starting out in their relationship and in the honeymoon phase. She flipped back a few pages to see if her sister wrote about it.

February 9th, 1984 Dear Diary,

Jason and I got into a fight today. He got mad at me for trying to comfort him after we slept together for the first time. I told him it was okay that it didn't last very long, and that Y/N told me that we were still getting used to each other and that's normal. Jason said that she wasn't the type of girl to be getting advice from. When I asked him what he meant he said that Y/N hooked up with Eddie Munson, so she must be easy. I yelled at him for that, and told him it wasn't true. Apparently Matthew Grayson told everyone on the basketball team that Y/N cheated on him with Eddie, and that's why they broke up. I told him it was a lie. Jason said that Eddie said nothing happened between them too when he heard about it, but no one on the team believed him. Matthew and other guys from the team beat him up after he tried to tell the truth. I told Jason he should apologize to Eddie, but he said he wouldn't be caught dead talking to the freak. That made me sad. Jason isn't a mean guy, but sometimes he says mean things. I at least told him to say it wasn't true to the other guys, and he said he would try his best. I don't want a rumor like that to spread around school about my sister. I know Y/N likes Eddie, even if she won't admit it, but she would never cheat on her boyfriend.

Y/N never knew Matthew said all those things about her. She broke up with him when she realized that she didn't have feelings for him anymore. It was a messy break up, but she didn't think he would make up lies about her. If she ever saw Matthew Grayson's face again she wouldn't hesitate to put him in his place. It was one thing to spread rumors about her, she could have handled it, but to get physical with Eddie? When he was just trying to set the record straight? He really had the worst luck with the people of Hawkins. Y/N flipped through the pages to find some of her sister's more recent entries. The most recent one was from the day she died.

March 21st, 1986

Dear Diary,

I had another nightmare. This one was really bad. I can't even look at Mom's face without seeing the monster I saw in my dreams. The headaches are worse, and I don't know what to do. I just saw an old clock in my room, and when I blinked it wasn't there anymore. I was awake. I know I was. I wanna talk to Y/N, but I can't with Mom home. I don't want her to hear me. I need something to calm me down. I tried drinking myself to sleep last night, but that didn't work. I know Sarah likes to smoke weed to chill out, but I'm not even sure that would work. I think I need something stronger. I know Sarah buys stuff from Eddie, maybe I can get something from him. I just hope Y/N doesn't find out, she'd be so disappointed in me. I'm afraid to talk to Eddie alone though. Y/N says he's a great guy, but he scares me a little. Jason says he's a devil worshipper. I don't think that's true, but you never know. At this point I'll take a deal with the devil, anything to make this stop. I wish Y/N was here. She'd know what to do. She always knows what to do. I miss her so much. I'll call her when I get to school, maybe she can help me.

Y/N could see the ink smudge from her sister's gel pen as she cried over the pages. A deal with the devil was right, she'd do anything to bring her sister back. But she couldn't, and she would never be there for her sister again. The only thing Y/N could do now was stop Vecna once and for all.

Y/N put the diary in the duffle and made her way to the car. She tossed it in the backseat along with the rest of her things and started the drive back to Rick's house. It was already dark, she'd been gone for too long. She left the walkie in the passenger seat while she was in the house. She prayed Eddie didn't try to reach her while she was gone.

"Eddie? Are you there?" She heard some rusting before Eddie's voice rang through.

"Y/N! Christ, there you are." He was whispering, Y/N could barely hear him.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" She was speeding now, desperate to get to him.

"Yes, no, I don't know, man. Jason and his posse are inside Rick's house. I don't know how they figured out where I was, shit. They've got bats, and crow bars and shit. Where are you?" Y/N slammed her foot on the gas, zipping through the back roads of Hawkins. Why was Jason after him? He was at the funeral with the other guys from the basketball team. Y/N would have liked to think Jason wasn't the type to go vigilante, but she always knew something was off about him. Chrissy's diary didn't make her feel any better either. Jason hates Eddie, and if he thought he was responsible for her death... Y/N didn't like to think about what he was capable of.

"I'm 5, maybe 10 minutes away. Try calling Dustin, maybe they're closer. I'll be there soon just hold on."

Y/N pulled up to Rick's house to see Jason and his friends walking towards the boathouse. She jumped out of the car and ran over to the group, they were still dressed in the suits they wore to Chrissy's funeral. They must have been looking for him all day.

"Jason!" She shouted. They all turned to look at her, weapons tightly gripped in each other their hands.

"Y/N? What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here." Jason said with the fake polite tone he used on her parents.

"It's none of your business why I'm here. What are you guys doing here? Why are all of you carrying weapons? What's going on?" Her heart was pounding in her chest. She prayed that Eddie could sneak away while they were all distracted.

"We're looking for Munson. We just want to talk to him." Andy, Chance, and Patrick all nodded behind him. None of them looked like they just wanted to talk, they were looking for a fight.

"Talk? Do you need crowbars to talk Jason? And why are you looking for Eddie anyway?" Y/N tried to peak behind the boys in front of her, but it was too dark to see anything. She didn't know where Eddie was, and it terrified her.

"He's the one that killed Chrissy!" Andy shouted.

"No, he's not. What happened to Chrissy wasn't his fault. You've got it all wrong." Y/N tried to reason with them. She hoped they would listen to her and leave Eddie alone.

"And how do you know anything about that Y/N?" The fake polite tone was gone from Jason's voice then. He sounded sinister, violent. Like the crowbar in his hand wasn't just for Eddie now.

"Because I was there when she died. What killed her wasn't... it wasn't Eddie. Eddie and I were trying to give her an intervention that night, because she wanted to buy some Special K. I was in his room with him when she died in the trailer. He's innocent." Y/N was trying to be brave now, show no weakness in front of them. She couldn't afford to break, not with Eddie's life on the line.

"Did you see who killed her then? If you are so sure of his innocence?" Y/N didn't know what to say, what she could say. She thought they had more time to get their stories straight. She thought she could talk it over with Dustin and his friends once they had more information to go on. It was too late now.

"I didn't see who killed her. Chrissy was already dead when Eddie and I left the room." It was a half truth, but it was the best she could come up with in the moment. She hoped it would satisfy Jason.

"Oh I see..." Jason was laughing at her now, mean and cruel. "While you were busy whoring yourself out to the freak, Chrissy was left alone to die." It felt like a slap to the face. Every word out of his mouth dripping with venom as he said it. Andy and Chance were laughing behind him, as if this whole thing was hilarious.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. Leave Jason. Right now." Y/N steeled herself in front of them, sick of their useless judgement. All of the boys stayed put, refusing to back down while their leader continued his charade.

"So you don't deny it huh? Wow, turns out Grayson was right boys. Y/N Cunningham, Eddie Munson's little slu-" Y/N didn't let him finish the sentence before she punched him in the face. Jason didn't expect the hit, so he nearly went down when her fist connected with his cheek. Andy and Chance caught him before he fell, dropping their weapons in the process.

"For once in your life Jason just shut the fuck up! You talk as if you have any clue what's going on but you don't! So why don't you just take your little toys, your laughable alpha male attitude, and go... Chrissy would be mortified with your behavior right now. If she weren't already gone, she'd dump your sorry ass in a second." Jason looked like he was about to lunge at her when Chance saw something in the water.

"Look! There's something over there!" Jason turned towards the lake, noticing the ripples in the shoreline. All of them took off running, Y/N following closely behind. Once they got around the boathouse she could see Eddie peddling the small boat in the water.

"Holy shit.. Hey freak!" Jason shouted. Y/N could see Eddie twist to look at them, he pulled the oar out of the water.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jason started to take off his suit, and Patrick started to do the same. They was going after Eddie.

"Stop it!" Y/N screamed. She tried to run closer to the shore, but Chance and Andy held her back. She fought against their firm grips on her arms, neither of them possessing the gentleness Eddie had when he held her.

"Y/N!" Eddie shouted. Y/N looked up, he looked like he was about to dive into the water.

"Go! Start the engine and go! Now!" Eddie paused. He didn't want to leave her there.

"I'll be okay! Just go-" Andy covered her mouth with her hand, she bit it as hard as she could.

"Ow! You bitch!" He kneed Y/N in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She could see Jason and Patrick swimming towards the boat, what was left in her lungs she screamed to Eddie.

"Go!" Eddie tried pulling the engine cord, but it was a bust. So he started rowing further out in the lake, Jason and Patrick quick on his tail. Y/N kept fighting Andy and Chance off, but they had her arms pulled so far back she thought they would rip out of their sockets. She was stuck. Stuck watching as Jason and Patrick began closing the gap between them and Eddie.

All of the sudden Patrick stopped, Jason was yelling something but she couldn't hear it. They were too far out. Eddie stopped too, and they all watched in horror as Patrick flew into the air. His body was contorting in every direction, just like Chrissy's body did. Then just like her, he fell. His body plummeting into the water with a deafening splash.

It was happening again. Vecna's curse. He had taken another victim.

Taglist:

@imchangkyunned , @creativedogs , @nightless , @kik51199 , @thecraziestcrayon , @dabzzallday420 , @science--hoes , @efvyqrs , @justanotherkpopstanlol ,

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x cunningham!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things s4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanficton #stranger things #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things x reader

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finnyboywolfhard · 4 years ago

Text

Shut Him Up

Richie Tozier x Reader

Aged up 5 years after fight with IT so they are 18 :)

summary: The Losers Club has a movie night and Richie doesn’t know how to shut up.

warnings: cursing, fluff

word count: 2.1k

Popcorn popped loudly in the vibrating microwave, Y/N maneuvered around the kitchen gathering the various snacks and drinks that the Loser’s requested. She grabbed a large bowl for the popcorn as a knock pounded against the door.

“Hold on!” Y/N dropped the hot bag and rushed over to the door, pulling it open with a huff, delighted to see Beverly Marsh behind the door. “Oh thank god it’s you.” Y/N said wrapping her arms around Bev.

“You sure are happy to see me.”

“Because I know you’ll actually help me get everything set up and not just goof off. If Richie was the first one here one more time I was gonna go crazy.” Y/N explained as she walked to the kitchen, handing Bev a few bags of chips and a tray holding drinks. Y/N poured the popcorn in a bowl and grabbed the packages of candy from beside her and ushered for Bev to follow her through the corridor to her Living Room. They dropped the snacks onto the table. Y/N looked down to see she was still in her “nicer” clothes.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get changed real quick, open the door if any of them come.”

“I need you to know I’m gonna snoop.” Bev yelled out as Y/N began bounding up the stairs.

“You always do!” Y/N yelled back. Once inside her room, she rummaged through her drawers to find an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. She put on a pair of socks, grabbed a few blankets from her room and came back down to a room full of teenage boys. She looked around at how the chairs and couches filled up, to see that she was once again stranded on the loveseat with the chatterbox himself Richie Tozier.

“Hey Bev! I think you might have left something in my room last week, can you come with me for a sec?” Y/N yelled, just peering around the corner. All eyes looked at her.

“What did she forget?” Ben asked as Bev passed by him.

“A girl thing, there’s a reason I didn’t say what.”

“Oh so a Brassiere!” Richie said in the annoying British voice before switching back to his own. “You could have just said Y/N/N, we all know you both have tits.”

Y/N simply flipped him off and grabbed Bev’s hand to go upstairs. The two got inside Y/N’s room and Y/N just crossed her arms and looked at her.

“What? Why are you mad?”

“How the hell did I end up next to Richie AGAIN?”

“We practically have assigned seats at this point…” Bev said trying to play it off.

“Bullshit. Last week you sat in the La-Z-Boy with Bill and this week you’re on the big couch with Ben, Mike and Stan. What is up?” Y/N stared at Bev until she finally broke.

“Okay, he has a crush on you and is too scared to tell you so he keeps asking to sit next to you and showing up first.” Y/N’s jaw hung slack for a few moments before she snapped it shut and ran her hands through her hair. She collapsed backwards onto her bed.

“Beeeevvvvvv. This can’t be happening to me.”

“Oh please, like you don’t feel the same way.” Bev said grabbing Y/N’s hands and pulling her to sit up.

“What are you—“ Y/N looks at Bev who just cocks her head as if to ask ‘are you serious?’. “Fine, maybe I do. But he NEVER shuts up during movies. It ruins the experience.”

“Just ask him to stop, he’d do anything you ask, I’m sure of it.” Bev said. “Now, we have to get down there or else they’ll know this was definitely a lie.”

The two giggle as they leave the room and go back down the stairs. Y/N hip bumps Bev as Bev goes to her seat on the couch and Y/N puts in the movie.

“Kay Stanley, what did you bring us on this fine evening?” Y/N said as she glanced down at the CD.

“Forrest Gump. It was released in theaters a few months ago, the woman at Blockbuster said that it is a must see. It has Tom Hanks.”

“Oh that’s the dude on the poster in the Arcade!” Richie piped in.

“Yeah it is Richie! Doesn’t it have umm…the woman who played Princess Buttercup…umm Ro—“

“Robin Wright!” Stanley finished her thought. “Yeah it is, so you’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah my parents saw it, they loved it. I guess we’re in for a treat.” Y/N flashed her smile to the Loser’s as she tiptoed her way to beside Richie. She couldn’t help but notice that there was only one blanket on the seat.

“Hey guys? I thought I brought down a blanket for each of us?” Y/N looked around the room, the sound of previews playing. Her eyes finally landed on Bev, who had a curious smirk across her face.

“Oh…huh…when I was distributing them there was only seven…I guess you didn’t.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab another.” Before she could leave, Richie grabbed a hold of her hand.

“Don’t worry about that, just take this one. I don’t get cold.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. We all know that’s true.” Y/N said sarcastically, dropping onto the seat. The movie had only been playing for about 15 minutes and Y/N swore that Richie was leaning over and whispering something for 14 minutes of it.

“Psst…Y/N/N…” Richie leaned over to whisper once more.

“What?!” Y/N whispered back with force.

“I actually am cold, can we share?” She looked over, he was giving her puppy dog eyes and her hard exterior was being broken with each second she held eye contact.

“Fine.” She untucked the blanked from under her and threw it across Richie’s Lap. She had to scoot closer in order for the blanket to comfortably cover them both.

“Oooh, awfully close there sweetheart. It’s almost like you like me or some shit.” Richie teased. Y/N just rolled her eyes and kept her focus onto the movie. The blanket and close proximity kept Richie quiet for a bit, but not too long.

“Y/N/N.”

“Richie, please, can you just shut the fuck up?” Y/N/N plead to him in a whisper. She looked toward him, unaware of how close they were, as their noses nearly grazed. Richie took in a breath.

“Make me.” He said, softening his frame. Y/N didn’t know what took over her. Maybe it was the fact that she wanted to actually watch the movie. Maybe it was the fact that she’s had a crush on Richie for the past two years. Maybe she’s using it as ammunition against his crush. She didn’t know for certain, but she leaned forward and kissed Richie. At first gently--longingly. But then she pulled his head closer to her for a more passionate kiss for a few seconds and then she pulled back. She sat back firmly against the couch. Richie sat dazed for a second, glancing between Y/N and his own lap before sitting back just as Y/N did.

The credits began to roll when Mike leaned over and flicked on the lamp in the room. Everyone did the usual stretching and readjusting to light. Stan and Eddie started to small talk about the movie but their attention was piqued by Bev.

“Y/N, did you break Richie?” Bev asked, looking towards the boy who was sitting back against the loveseat, with love struck eyes and a confused look across his face. Every so often he would just look over towards Y/N and then immediately just back to his lap. Y/N glanced over for the first time since and giggled to herself a little bit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said just for the ruse.

“Look at him! He’s like…glazed over.” Eddie said flailing at the boy sitting there.

“Yeah, and I haven’t heard him in like 45 minutes, that’s not normal.” Stanley agreed. Suddenly, Richie snaps out of his daze and cockily turns to Y/N.

“Come on, Y/N/N. Show them what you did to me.” Richie smirked in the cockiest way he ever has. As much as she hated it, she kinda loved it too.

“Fine, I will.” Y/N declared in the same tone, making glaring eye contact as she pulled Richie in for a kiss. It lasted for a few moments before they pulled apart. They looked at each other for a few moments.

“What just happened?” Mike said blankly bursting the bubble the two were in.

“That was so…” Eddie pauses to gag. “So fucking nasty.”

“Wow thank you Eds for those touching words.” Y/N sarcastically said.

“Are you gonna explain or are we just gonna sit here?” Bev asked.

“He wouldn’t shut the fuck up during the movie so I asked him to, and he said ‘make me’, so I kissed him. It worked.” She said, maintaining eye contact with Bev, who then started to giggle. Richie’s eyes moved between the two girls, piecing things together.

“Fuck you Bev. You fucking told her.” Richie said standing up angrily, gathering his stuff up, clearly about to storm out.

“Richie I—“Bev started to answer.

“I don’t want to hear it. You both embarrassed me, I…I gotta go.” Richie tried to get past Bill and Mike who had now formed a barrier in front of the door.

“R-R-R-Richie, just listen to th-th-them.” Bill said.

“Why should I?” Richie said. Y/N nervously stood from the love seat and turned to face the doorway.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

“You’re fucking in love with me?” Richie asked shocked.

“Let’s go upstairs, shall we?” Y/N laced her hands through Richie’s and pulls him up the stairs. She slinks through her door and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her for Richie. He sits down, and starts wringing his hands. The silence is deafening. “Hey.” She said as she leans to bump into him.

“Y/N/N…” he said dishearteningly. As she looked at him, her gut told her to just say ‘Fuck it’.

“Richie I have had a crush on you since that day two years ago when you found me crying in the clubhouse. You just sat and listened to me, and you made me feel so…safe. It was a side of you I had never seen before. And I liked it. And then suddenly I started liking everything. Except for when you talk through movies, but everything else.” She giggled, and looked at him. She loved the way his curls framed his face and the way his brown eyes still sparkled unlike any other. She loved the way sometimes his mouth looked too big for his face. She loved the way he would overcompensate with his jokes. She loved the way he would tease and treat all of the Losers the same way, and that he cared about spending time with each and every single one of them. He was so loyal, and funny, and handsome, and he was just so utterly Richie.

“You were even pretty when you were crying.” Richie joked back. “I’ve liked you since after the fight with IT, when you asked me if I was okay. No one ever asks me that. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on to this whole fucking crush thing sooner.”

“I’m surprised you were such a pussy and didn’t make the first move.” Y/N responded back.

“Ouch, Y/N, getting me right where it hurts.” Richie pretending to stab himself through the heart and fell back onto the bed. He pulled a dead face, only for a second before he opened one eye and turned to her to see her reaction. Through breathy laughs, she leaned down to hover over the boy. His hand found a base at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. It started off sweet and soft but as they realized the position they were in, Y/N flipped her leg over his waist in order to straddle him. The kiss began to pick up speed and passion. The two started to really get into it, only to be cut off by the Losers slamming the door open.

“Oh gross! You guys! We were right down stairs!” Eddie shrieked. Y/N climbed off of Richie.

“As if I would fuck him the very first night we’re dating.”

“We’re dAting?” Richie’s voice cracked with excitement. Y/N turned to him, gave him a peck and a smiley nod yes. “Oh Fuck yeah!”

“Does this mean we’re gonna find y’all making out during movie nights now?”

“God no!”-- “Hell yeah!” Richie and Y/N responded in unison, there were definitely a few things they still needed to work out, but they were happier than ever before.

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x you #it x reader #finn wolfhard x reader

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littlemorsel56 · 2 years ago

Text

Whitty x Borrower Oc Pt 2 (Unaware vore)

Summary: Ever since Chris decided to stay with Whitty, she noticed how fast Whitty eats’ his food. He almost swallowed a plate whole before Chris stops him. While Chris and Whitty were searching for another back alley to hide, they see a food-eating competition poster, and Whitty, of course, volunteers. It’s a piece of cake for Whitty since he’ll eat everything. Chris was supposed to stay in his pocket, but she got hungry too. So, she thought she could sneak her way to the table and eats one of Whitty’s food, some sausage rolls, which was the next meal Whitty is going to finish in a few seconds.

Warnings: Vore

How does he not get a stomachache from eating all these foods? Chris thought as she leans her body against Whitty’s head as he covers his bomb head and Chris with his hoodie. Sometimes she wonders how he keeps eating his meals fast and how he doesn’t get sick afterward. Whatever kind of stomach he has, she’s grateful she doesn’t end up mushy like the rest of the food he devoured. He nearly swallowed a damn plate when he and Chris had some money to eat at a diner. Every time Whitty’s lows on food, he swallows Chris so that he doesn’t starve to death, much to Chris’s displease but it’s the deal they made when they first met. She helps him finds empty homes and alley to hide and Whitty helps her from being seen by any beans.

“Hey, Chris.” He gets her attention by poking her cheek.

“What?” She asks before being poked again. She slaps his finger as she hears him laughing. “What. What is it?”

“Just wondering if you have been to one of the alleys up ahead where it’s right beside the old restaurant?”

“Hmm, I think so. Sometimes people just come over there just to throw away foods instead of holding them for a while to reach the trash can.” She grumbles at her last sentence. “I say it’s a good spot to rest there for a few days unless you’re comfortable with stray animals?”

“Stray animals?” Whitty slightly turns his attention to her. “What kind?”

“From what I remember when I stayed there, there were cats and kittens.” Chris answer. “I would have loved to stay with them, but with people stopping by to pet them, it’s a no for me.” She sighs. “I hope they’re doing alright though.”

“…Maybe you’ll see them when we get there.” He reassures her and turns his attention back to walking. “They might even miss you petting their…chins.” Chris notices him slowly stops walking and decides to peek outside of his hoodie.

“Why are we stopping?” She looks in his direction to see a poster that says food-eating competition. The winner will get a free meal for a year of the choice of their favorite restaurant. “…Whitty.”

“Chris, you can’t stop me, and you know I’m taking that chance.” He said as he reads the poster to find out where it’ll be taking place.

“But they’ll be so many human beans out there,” Chris says a little nervous. “I-I’m not so sure about this.”

“…Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone see you. We have to take this chance, Chris. Plus, I know you don’t love eating scrap foods we’ve been finding.”

“…Fine. Just make sure your stomach can handle all the food your gonna eat.” She tells him before being plucked away from his head and brought out in front of him.

“Since when couldn’t my stomach handle a few thousand of food? Besides,~” He brings her close to his mouth.

“No. Nonono!” Chris protests but can’t get away from him as he let his tongue out and gives her a huge lick on the face. “Whitty!”

“You’re the only food that makes me and my stomach happy.” He said and brought her inside of his pocket and begins walking toward the food-eating competition. Chris figures this may be a long day and decides to nap. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too loud, wouldn’t it?

________________________________________________________________

It’s loud. Chris can hear people chanting and talking about how great the meal looks, the announcer speaking loudly to the microphone and loud chewing noises from people who just wanted to watch the contestants. This day is about to get longer than she thought. As it turns out, the food eating competition is happening in some supper club as there are several competitors on the table, including Whitty, ready to chow down the food that’ll arrive soon. In just a few minutes, Whitty and the other beans will start eating and boy Chris is glad she’s not the main meal this time. Whitty seems to enjoy tasting and swallowing Chris a little too much. Not to mention his sleep-eating problems too when he accidentally puts her in his mouth, thinking she was a jawbreaker before he eventually spits her out or swallows her.

As for now, Chris tries to get comfortable in his pocket as she hears the announcer starting the count down. Don’t let your stomach be louder than usual. Once it’s down to zero, she felt Whitty lunge for the food and begins eating them like a starving cat that has a food obsession, knocking Chris around in his pocket as she hears his stomach rumbling. Just out of curiosity, she carefully crawls toward where his stomach would be since she couldn’t see because of the blue clothing. She listens carefully to hear whatever Whitty is eating up there, it’s coming down like a heavy storm. Not to mention how his stomach growls at her for a second, as if it’s upset Chris isn’t with the other foods. She crawls back where she was and tries to wait for Whitty to win the game and look for the alley Chris mentioned earlier.

After about ten minutes later, the game is still going and only several beans have given up, not to mention, Chris is starting to feel herself getting a little hungry too. She can’t just go out there and expected nobody to see her…Or maybe she could if she’s careful enough and stays near Whitty’s food. All she needs to do is be very sneaky and not get caught by anyone. Just one little scrap of food. That’s all. Nothing big. Just eat a little meal from Whitty’s plate and get back in his pocket.

Chris stands up and heads towards this pocket to see if she can step right onto the table because of Whitty’s height. Chris looks down and sees she can before looking up to see a huge buffet of food right in front of her! There were so many to choose from, she wishes she can also enter the eating contest right now! After hearing her stomach, Chris shook her head to remember what she was here for. She looks around and sees no beans are paying attention to her or Whitty as they’re focusing on their foods and the audience keeps their attention on them. She took the courage and steps onto the table and quickly looks around to see what she could eat quickly without anyone noticing her for just a few seconds or minutes.

After a few seconds of looking, she sees a plate she thought she never get to see again. Sausage rolls with tomato sauce right beside it on the side. Chris didn’t hesitate and runs straight towards it and begins to eat it from the side. These aren’t itty bitty ones, these sausage rolls for Whitty are almost a long foot. Oh my god, why can’t I be born bigger?! Chris continues eating her way through the puffy pastry until she eventually falls inside of it to see the meat. She grabs a handful of meat before getting out the food to dip her meat in the tomato sauce and stuffs it in her mouth. I miss this taste so much! Chris cries in joy before running back in and out of the sausage roll several times, carrying the meat out just to dip it in the sauce and eats it. Whitty, please find a place that serves these! Chris eats her twelfth meat and runs back inside the roll to grab more. Just two, no. Five more, then I-! A huge shadow covers her little hole before feeling herself and the food lifted from the ground.

“Oh no! No no!” Chris says before screaming when huge sharp teeth bite down, nearly taking her along with it before it pulls away to reveal Whitty chewing his meal fast. Chris hangs on to the inside of the pastry walls as she looks down at how high she is and she’s very up high she couldn’t possibly survive. Chris looks back up to see him finish chewing before he swallows. “Whitty! Stop! I’m in here!” Chris shouts for his attention, but with the crowds cheering, the sounds of contestants chewing loudly, and Whitty’s only goal and obsession of eating everything in front of him, she’s facing certain death this time. “Whitty!” She screams for him as he brings the sausage roll back into his mouth, forcing Chris to crawl in the roll to stay away from being chewed up. It feels hot and greasy as she continues to crawl her way to safety until she feels her foot got stuck on the meat.

She pulls it out with all her strength and pulls it out in time before Whitty took a chance to bite her feet off clean. Chris looks and notices she’s already close to the end of Whitty’s food with no way out. She watches him chewing his food in horror, fearing she’ll be next to be chewed up to pieces and Whitty wouldn’t notice! Once she watches him swallow his chewed-up meal, he brought his last piece (and Chris) to his mouth to devour the rest. “Whitty! Please stop! I’m in here! WHITTY!” She screams one last time, hoping he’d heard her. He stops. Chris was about to sigh in relief, only for it to be replaced with her scream when Whitty dips his sausage roll in the tomato sauce. Chris spits out the sauce that got caught in her throat before wiping her face off to see her destination is resuming its course as it’s headed towards his mouth. Chris screams one last time as Whitty places his last bite in his mouth and closes it.

Chris panics as she feels the food begins to move towards his teeth as Whitty starts to chew it into pieces. Chris has been in his mouth many times, and Whitty sometimes teases her by nibbling on her arms and legs, he always avoids chewing her, but now he’s going to chew her into tiny parts! She feels the pastry getting soggy because of his saliva, letting Chris falls into the center of his tongue with chewed-up foods on his teeth. “Whitty! Stop!” She shouts out, feeling his tongue pushing her and the other broken particles of the food to one of his cheeks where he’s about to bring his sharp teeth down. Chris screams and quickly crawls her way out of it before he chews the food. She came back to the center of his mouth before she feels it moves again, this time to his throat.

Chris and Whitty never bother testing out if his stomach will digest Chris if she’s surrounded by food, but now it looks like Chris will be the first to test it out all on her own. Will his stomach still protect her from being digested, or will it digest her with the food? Chris begins to climb up the mountain of soaked chewed-up food to avoid finding out what’ll happen to her until there are no other places she could get away from. Chris looks back at his throat before looking up to see his uvula. With no hesitation, she jumps off the food and grabs onto it as the food disappears in his throat.

Chris sighs, thinking this is all over now as she sees Whitty opening his mouth…to bring ramen noodle in! He didn’t even bother to chew them as Chris hangs on tight to his uvula as she feels the noodles hitting back until one wrapped around her leg, pulling her down into his esophagus. She screams as she feels herself getting tangled with more noodles as they push her down till she arrives at his stomach. After the noodles stop piling on top of her, she climbs up, runs towards his stomach flesh, and hits it multiple times to get Whitty’s attention. She screams for his name and shouts out loud for him to hear her, doing everything she could think of before noticing his stomach is about to begin its process. She loses her footing and fell back into his food as she sees the walls squirting out digesting juice. No. Please. No.

Chris feels the food starting to disappear and Chris knew she’ll be next at any second. She softly closes her and thinks back on all the things and memories she went through. Her family, her friends,…Whitty. She feels the last remaining food gone and waits for her turn to be digested…Nothing happened. Nothing. She opens her eyes to see herself still in his stomach and the digesting juice isn’t hurting her. She’s not dead. Chris softly chuckles and starts to laugh before jumping up and down celebrating, only to be cut off short when more chewed-up food comes in and covers her up before she ends up getting rid of them off her. So, since I won’t be digested except for the food, all I must do is make sure I find a relaxing spot to avoid getting more of his gross chewed-up food on my hair. Cause it’s already messy after nearly being chewed in his mouth.

________________________________________________________________

Whitty sighs out loud as he stretches his arms after eating all those foods and finishing in 1st place and winning that prize. “See, Chris. I told you my stomach can handle over a ‘few’ meals.” He tells her as he now heading for the alley they’re gonna stay for a few weeks. He lowers his arms down and put them in his pocket to pet her head. “Now why don’t we decide which restaurant should…we…Chris?” He searches in his pocket and felt nothing. “Chris?” He looks down at the ground, hoping she’s near him but sees nothing. What happened to her? Where is she?! Did he lose her?! Did someone kidnap her!? Where is she?! “Chris!?”

“IN YOUR STOMACH, WHITTY!” She shouts out as she feels his stomach walls squeezing her while feeling him moving around like an earthquake. “Now stop making your gross stomach hugging me to death!” Chris tells him and feels it loosens her a bit before she was immediately shot up from his stomach to his throat, hearing him coughing out loud until she was spat out and lands on his open palms in his hands. She groans for a second time as she looks around to see they’re at an abandoned alley she has never seen before she was pulled into a giant hug by Whitty as he held her to his chest.

“Chris, you had me worried there!” He says. Chris looks up to him to see his eyes are covered in black tears in his eyes…that smell like highly flammable liquid. Chris stays quiet and hugs him back to listen to his heartbeat as it calms them both down. After the two hugged for a few minutes, Whitty brought her to his eye level and glares at her before shouting. “What the hell were you doing in there!! You could have gotten yourself killed!?”

“Yeah, I thought that too,” Chris says as she still hears her ears ringing from his shout. “I’ve gotten hungry during the food eating contest, and I thought I could get a quick snack from one of your plates.” She ended up telling him the whole story about what food she was in, nearly got chewed up by him, and how his stomach only digested the food and not her when she was with them.

She carefully watches Whitty’s expression as he closed his eyes and takes a deep breath after listening to every word. She couldn’t tell what he is thinking or that he was upset. This is Chris’s fault after all for being in his food and nearly getting killed by his teeth. She could have just waited for a few more minutes because Whitty would have won in a landslide. He finally opened his eyes and looks at her. “Chris.” He says. “Just…be careful next time when you’re surrounded by food.”

“Trust me, Whitty, after experience being with the food and almost killed, I don’t even want to join them near anyone who’s about to eat them,” Chris promised him. Whitty brought his thumb over and gently pets her. Chris allows him to before closing her eyes to relax a bit. This gives Whitty a chance to bring her up close to his mouth before he stops petting her.

“You better,” Chris opened her eyes when she noticed he’d stopped petting her head, only to see his lips heading towards her and feels a gentle kiss on the cheek before he pulls back and stares at her with a little blush and smirk on his face while Chris looked at him in a shock embarrassing expression. “Cause if I ever lose you, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.”

“…D-Don’t worry, I’m not going away ever in my life. It’s a borrower’s life for almost getting killed and surviving every single day.” Chris says as she continues to blush. “Hell, I’ll make sure I won’t be anywhere near your food. You’re an absolute beast to them.” She joked, trying to lighten him up a bit. It somewhat worked a little as he chuckles.

“Yeah, I am.” He said and brought her close to his head before putting on his hoodie. “Next time, I’m checking over all of my food to make sure you don’t get yourself stuck in them…Just like the last time you fell into my drink.”

“You had a banana smoothie! How could I not get a taste of it!?” Chris argues back.

“By waiting for me to finish half of them…But I guess I wouldn’t mind tasting your sweet little secret ingredient again~.” Chris groans when he says that as she felt him chuckling.

#vore day #happy vore day #v0re #g/t vore #whitty #monday night munchin #g/t #borrower oc #borrower #friday night funkin #8/8 vore day #soft vore #unaware vore #unwilling prey #unaware pred #uvula #sfw vore

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typical-simplelove · 3 years ago

Text

To Capture a Moment (M. Barzal)

Author's Note: This was a prompt from the ever amazing @thatflyersfan, so thank you for this! The prompt was "taking polaroid photos", and I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers, so this is the product! I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you thought either in an ask or in the tags. Enjoy!

Author's Note 2: If you reblog this, I'll send you an ask thank you and mention you in an appreciation post (if I do this!)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, one or two slightly NSFW scenes (but VERY mild), a mention of a breeding kink (literally mentioned in one sentence), marriage, pregnancy, Santa, but the rest is just fluff!

Word Count: 9.3k

Enjoy reading!

If anyone were to walk down the hall of your and Mathew’s hallway of your new home, they would see it lined with polaroid pictures. These polaroid pictures show the relationship between you and Mathew from the young age of five to now sharing your new home, married, and with two children. A hallway that was the epitome of a picture is worth a thousand words.

Age 5

“Mathew, please, just stand next to your sister, please,” Mathew’s mother requests. Her tone was close to begging. Your parents had to deal with a family emergency, so they sent you to the Barzal’s to be babysat. Mathew’s mother decided to take Liana, Mathew, and you to Lafarge Park.

Currently, you are sitting on a bench giggling as you watch Mathew sigh as he gets up from where he was sitting next to you. He groaned as he got up and stood next to his sister. He wraps his arm around her but doesn’t smile. At the touch, Liana screams and begins to cry. It was close to her nap time, and the smallest things were making her fussy. Mathew’s mother sighs and goes to pick up her daughter to try to comfort her. Mathew grins widely and sits back down next to you.

“I don’t like taking photos,” Mathew says bluntly. You look at him but are squinting as the sun is in your eyes.

“You like taking photos in your hockey gear,” you point out.

“Yeah, but I don’t like taking photos,” Mathew emphasizes the word photos as if that were enough explanation. It wasn’t. “You know what I mean?”

“No.”

Mathew gives you a curious look, and you want to point out his hair is getting long, but his mother calls Mathew back over to take the photo.

“But I don’t want to,” Mathew whines.

“Mathew,” she says in a mother’s knowing tone, and Mathew gets up exasperatedly. He stands next to his sister. He opts not to put his arm around her this time and looks at you before the picture is taken. You smile widely at him and wave. Mathew wears a giant grin on his face in response. His mother notices Mathew’s wide smile; she smiles when she realizes you are the reason for Mathew’s smile. She takes the photo quickly knowing that Mathew’s smile is short-lived.

“Yn, come take a photo with Mathew,” she calls to you. You skip over to Mathew. Surprisingly, Mathew doesn’t complain about taking another photo. Then again, though, Mathew never complained about anything when it came to you.

“Mom, can we do the fancy camera? The one that prints out right away?” Mathew asks.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Mathew’s mother says and pulls the polaroid camera out of her purse. Mathew insisted she bring it today, and she guesses this was why. “Smile,” she directs and snaps the photo. Once the photo is printed, she places it in her wallet.

“I’m going to hang it on my wall,” Mathew tells you after the photo is taken and that he did. After he got home later that day from dropping you off at home, Mathew begged his mother for the photo. He tapped it on his wall next to his hockey posters because to him, you were just as important. As Mathew moved around for hockey, that photo always followed him around with a few others. It sat in his wallet, and when he felt homesick, he’d look at it with a wide smile. Now, it sits amongst the many polaroid pictures on your wall.

Age 6

Whenever you and Mathew were together, Mathew’s mother always brought the polaroid camera with her. Mathew always loved taking those kinds of photos with you. In the past year, you and Mathew have taken countless polaroid pictures that lined both your walls and his.

Today, you were sitting in a local hockey arena watching Mathew play. Well, you were watching the empty ice getting ready for warmups. You were wearing one of Mathew’s sweatshirts as you shivered in the cold of the arena. You were clutching the mug of hot chocolate Mathew’s mother gave you in hopes of warming up. When Mathew got on the ice for warmups, you smiled widely. Even at such a young age, seeing Mathew would bring a smile to your face and make you all warm and fuzzy.

You walked towards the glass to get a better look at your best friend. When he skated by you, you tapped softly on the glass to alert him you were there. When Mathew turns to see you, he gives you a giant smile from beneath his helmet. He takes a few moments to stop and looks at you for a moment. Mathew’s mother takes the polaroid camera out of her bag and quickly snaps a photo of the two of you in this exact position.

That photo remains on the Barzal mantle till this day.

Age 7

The annual Christmas Fair was back in Vancouver again, and Mathew was super excited to see Santa this year. He figured that his dream of playing in the NHL would come true as long as he asked Santa for it for every year of his life until it happened.

You were both standing in line waiting to go inside the Fair. Despite being bundled up in your warmest sweater, jacket, gloves, and hat, you were still cold. One would think that after spending copious amounts of time in a hockey arena watching Mathew play, you would be used to the cold, but you weren’t.

“Are you cold, Yn?” Mathew asks concerned. He can see you shivering but trying to hide it.

“Just a little,” you lie.

“Oh, here,” Mathew says and walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you in a giant hug to keep you warm. You feel your cheeks warm at the touch, but you, at the age of seven, think it’s just you already warming up. You rest your head on Mathew and wrap your arms around him. “No, keep them in your pockets, so you can keep warm.”

“What about your hands?” you worry.

“Don’t worry, I play hockey; I’m used to the cold,” he reassures you and flashes you his signature grin. Mathew’s mother wasn’t able to capture a polaroid photo of this event, but your mother was able to pull out her phone to capture the moment. Even at the age of 7, Mathew would do absolutely anything for you.

Eventually, yours and Mathew’s families end up inside the fair and in line to see Santa. Now, a hot chocolate in your belly and a warm meal, you were slowly warming up and didn’t need Mathew to hold you anymore. He was bouncing with excitement as you both got closer and closer to the front of the line.

When it was Mathew’s turn to see Santa, he walked up, and you waited in line for your turn. A sudden gust of wind made a giant shiver rack through your body, and Mathew noticed from where he was sitting on Santa’s lap.

“Is everything alright, son?” he asks.

Mathew looks up at him with worry. “My best friend is cold, and I don’t like it when Yn’s cold. I’d rather be cold instead of Yn.”

“Well, maybe we should finish here quickly, so you can go and make Yn warm. What do you say?”

Mathew nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I like that.”

“So, what do you want, son?”

Mathew looks into Santa’s blue eyes and is about to ask for an NHL career. He then looks at you and sees you shivering. Mathew’s heart stops and realizes that it doesn’t matter if he got the NHL career if you were cold. You couldn’t be cold because if you were cold then you’d get sick. If you were sick, then who would be Mathew’s best friend? “I want Yn not to be sick.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” Mathew nods. “I can’t have my best friend sick because then who would be my best friend.”

“Well, then, I’ll be sure to grant your wish, son,” Santa says. In all his years of doing this, he’s never heard this one before. “Keep Yn close, okay? Yn seems like a special one.”

Mathew always kept those words close to his heart whether or not he remembered who told them to him.

Age 10

For the past ten years, you and Mathew have taken a photo on yours and his birthdays. It was always you on the right and him on the left. Whoever’s birthday it was would be holding the gift the other got them. It was tradition.

It was your tenth birthday, and the day was coming to a close. All your friends had left, and it was just your family and Mathew’s family who were still there. You were on your third piece of cake, and Mathew was trying to convince you to give him a bite, too. He looked nervous.

“Are you okay, Mathew?” you ask after finishing your final piece and giving Mathew a piece.

“I have a gift for you,” he mumbles.

“Oh!” you thought you opened all your gifts.

“Can I give it to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. Mathew gets up to grab the gift, and you throw out the plate in the trash.

“This is for you,” he says and passes the bag to you. You gently take the wrapping paper out of the bag; you set it to the side and pull out the box. You gasp when you see it. You smile and jump up to give Mathew a hug. You wrap your arms around him.

“Thank you for the polaroid camera, Mathew,” you whisper as he wraps his arms around you.

“Of course, Yn. It’s time you had your own, so we could take all the photos we want.”

“Come on, let’s go and get my mom to take a photo of us.”

You and Mathew go and find his mother. When you find her, you take the camera out of the box and hand it to her. You and Mathew position yourself against the wall, and he wraps an arm around you. You hold the box in your hand and smile. Mathew, though, isn’t looking at the camera; he’s looking at you with the widest grin on his face. All that mattered in his life was making you smile. If he made you smile, then Mathew always wore the happiest grin on his face.

Age 13 - Stargazing

Your parents had to go out of town to take care of your grandparents, so you were staying with the Barzals for the weekend. You were both currently laying on in his backyard on a blanket staring at the stars. It was your favorite pastime — laying together looking up at the stars.

You were both lying next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. You turned your head and looked at Mathew, but you looked to find him already looking at you. “It’s pretty,” he says.

“It is,” you agree and turn back to the sky. Mathew, though, remained looking at you.

“Do you have your polaroid camera?”

“Yeah, right next to me. Why?”

“Let’s take a photo,” Mathew answers. He sits up and leans over around you to grab the camera. In the process, Mathew’s arm brushes your stomach briefly, and his face grows warm at the touch. Somewhere, between the ages of 12 and 13, Mathew has developed a crush on you. He didn’t tell anyone because why would he? At this age, Mathew would get teased for having a crush on you, so he didn’t tell anyone. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if you liked him, too.

Mathew lies back down next to you and rests his head close to yours. He lifts his arm up and positions it so that the both of you are in frame. You both smile, and Mathew presses down the button.

The photo comes out, and Mathew’s heart warms at the picture reflected.

“Can I have my camera? I want a picture of the stars, too,” you ask. He hands you the camera, and his hand brushes yours briefly. You thought nothing of it, but Mathew’s heart was racing. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Mathew whispers, and you give him a curious look. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird; you’re acting weird.”

You laugh. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

Mathew watched you take a photo of the stars in the sky, and he came to one realization: he never wanted to live in a world where you weren’t there.

Age 16

It was Mathew’s 16th birthday, and you were sitting on a garden chair watching him have the time of his life with his friends. As you both started high school, you both found yourself in different friend groups. That wasn’t to say, however, that your friendship wavered. It just meant that you both weren’t next to each other all the time. You were okay with that new realization. You were okay with it because that meant that you could work through your new found feelings for Mathew. You didn’t know when it happened. One day, you were eating lunch with Mathew, your friend, with normal hair and normal eyes and a normal laugh. You were eating lunch with Mathew, your friend, who was normal looking. The next day, though, you were eating lunch with Mathew who had the most beautiful smile, the most beautiful eyes, the softest hair, and was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was no longer the boy you grew up with. He was Mathew, and you finally understood what all the girls were talking about. It was difficult for you to breathe around him because you wanted him to hold your hand and love you. It went from Mathew being your best friend to you loving Mathew as more than a friend, and it scared you.

You were sitting there smiling when Mathew caught your gaze. He looked you in the eyes and waved. You waved back and warmth filled you. He excused himself from his friends and walked over to where you were sitting.

“You brought the polaroid camera,” he says as he brings a chair next to yours and sits.

“Well, we’ve taken the same photo for the past sixteen years. We might as well continue tradition, right?” you tease.

“Yeah, tradition,” he whispers giving you a look that makes you melt. He leans his head close to yours with a soft smile. “Can I tell you something?”

You nod trying to suppress a shiver.

“Somewhere in the past —”

“Yn, can I borrow your polaroid camera, please?” Liana interrupts as if knowing what Mathew was going to say. You tell her yes, and you see Mathew, out of the corner of your eye, blush and shake his head while also glaring at his sister.

“Um, you were saying?” you ask hoping to rebuild the bubble you both just had.

Mathew looks at you trying to figure out if he wants to continue. “Um, somewhere in the past five or six years or so, I screwed up.”

“Screwed up, how?”

“I fell for you,” Mathew whispers, a blush overcoming his face.

“But, you’re sitting right now,” you say oblivious.

Mathew laughs his laugh, and you melt into a puddle. “I fell in love with you, Yn.”

“Oh. Oh!”

Mathew laughs again with a bashful smile settling on his features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.”

“Are you still sorry if I were to tell you I fell in love with you, too?”

“I wouldn’t be sorry, then,” Mathew says and leans his head close to yours. He takes one hand and cups your cheek. He rubs soft patterns on your cheek as he begins to tilt his head. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you beg. Mathew places his lips on yours softly as your hands go to his neck and begin to softly playing the hair at its base. It was a kiss full of fireworks. All the noises around you mellowed out. All the emotions you feel for your best friend come out in one kiss as it deepens. You both pull away when a flash from a camera startles you both.

“Sorry, I just had to,” Liana apologizes, handing you back your camera with the photo printing.

“You didn’t have to,” Mathew grumbles angrily.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry,” you tell her, taking back the camera. You look at the photo and smile. Mathew was gently holding your face as he kissed you softly. You both had wide smiles on your faces as you kissed each other. “See, we have a photo of our first kiss.”

Mathew kisses your forehead softly. “Here’s to many more.”

Age 18

“Yn, come outside, please?” Mathew begs with a pout on his face. “I want to take a photo with you.”

“But we’ve been taking photos all day,” you groan. It was reaching 9pm at night, and the joint graduation party for you and Mathew was over. You were both lounging on your bed reminiscing about the future. Mathew was going to have this amazing NHL career, and you were going to college.

“I just want this one,” Mathew says as he gets off the bed. He looks at the many polaroid photos sitting on your wall of both your family, friends, and him. He was in most of them. He picks up your polaroid camera and grins at you. “Please? My parents bought sparklers, and we haven’t used them yet.”

You get up because Mathew could get you to do anything as long as he gave you that grin. “Okay.”

Mathew takes your hand and leads you both downstairs. “Liana, can you take a photo of us?”

“More photos?” she asks. Liana was just as fed up with taking pictures, too. “Yn, how do you put up with him?”

You shrug with a smile. “It’s easy when I love him.”

“I love him, too, but I can’t put up with him,” Liana mumbles following you both out the door. Mathew inquires about the sparklers and is directed to his mother’s car. You and Liana stand out in your backyard. “What kind of photo does he want?”

“I’m not sure, but I know he wants a polaroid photo.”

“He’s obsessed with those,” Liana comments as Mathew walks up to you two. He hands the polaroid camera to Liana and ushers you over to where he wants to stand. He takes two sparklers out of the box and hands one to you.

“I want to kiss you as we hold the sparklers,” Mathew mumbles against your skin. His words sent shivers down your spine.

“Okay,” you whisper as Mathew lights yours and his sparklers. He looks at you with a wide smile and wraps the arm that’s not holding the sparkler around your waist. You wrap your arm that’s not holding the sparkler across his shoulder and lean in for a kiss. “Liana, take the photo when we kiss, please.”

Liana makes a comment about how disgusting the two of you are before saying an “okay.”

Mathew leans in with a smile and kisses you. You kiss him back with a smile just as wide closing the space between you two. You see the flash out of the corner of your eye and pull away slowly to set the sparkler out. When they’re out, Mathew pulls you in for another kiss full of love and passion. He never gets enough of kissing you; if it were up to him, he’d kiss you for every moment of every day.

“The photo’s ready,” Liana interrupts, not wanting to watch her brother kiss anyone even if it were you. You both separate breathlessly and observe the photo. He wraps his arms around you and settles your back against his front. He rests his head against yours and holds you tightly against his chest.

“We look cute, babe,” Mathew whispers into your ear. You look into his eyes and break out into a smile.

“We do look cute,” you agree. You were about to say something else, but the flash of the polaroid camera interrupts your words.

“Sorry,” Liana apologies. “You guys just looked really cute.”

Mathew kisses your cheek, and his heart bursts with love. He loved you so much that there were no words. From where they were sitting on the back porch, your parents and Mathew’s parents were looking on with love. You and Mathew were perfect for each other, and they knew that your relationship would stand the test of time.

Age 21

You were in New York for the first time during the hockey season. In past times you’ve been in New York, it was either before the season or after the season. This was the first time that your school schedule lined up perfectly with a chance to go see Mathew play on Long Island. You met the WAGs for the first time tonight, and you instantly loved them and them the same. You were currently standing next to Sydney, who took you under her wing, at the glass as warmups just began. You had your new polaroid camera and ready to snap one of Mathew.

“Do you and Mathew have a strong connection to a polaroid camera?” Sydney asks.

You nod with a smile. “Yeah. For as long as I can remember, we’ve always taken photos with a polaroid camera. We have millions of photos together.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them. Mathew displays them proudly across his apartment. He loves them, but he loves you more,” Sydney teases.

You don’t reply except for smiling bashfully and shaking your head playfully. You were about to say something when Mathew interrupted you by bumping into the boards in front of you. He looks at you, and his heart grows a million sizes seeing you wearing his jersey. You smile when you see him and wave. He begins to show off in front of you with his stick handling. You shake your head playfully at his actions, but you use the opportunity to snap a photo of Mathew. It’s of him concentrating on the puck. You tuck it into your purse to observe later on.

“Did you want me to take one of the two of you?” Grace asks, who was on the other side of you and has also taken you under her wing.

“Would you? That’d be great.”

“Of course,” she says and takes the camera from you.

“Can Grace take a photo of us?” you ask Mathew. You were suddenly nervous that he was going to be embarrassed of your tradition.

“That would be amazing,” he tells you genuinely. He leans against the glass on his side, and you do the same on your side, smiling at Grace. Once the photo is taken, you, once again, put it in your purse to look at later. Mathew waves before rejoining the rest of his team.

“You guys are cute,” Sydney comments with a smile.

“Oh, to be young and in love,” Grace comments and both girls laugh. You put the camera in your purse, and you smile as the heat rushes to your face. Indeed, to be young and in love.

Later that night, you and Mathew were sitting on his couch when you pulled out the polaroids from the day. Mathew looks at the polaroid that you took of him without him knowing and blushes. You notice it and kiss his cheek.

“You look good, babe,” you tease.

“Yeah, but this one is better,” he says pointing to the photo Grace took of you. His hold on you tightens as he rests his head on the crook between your shoulder and neck. “Wanna know why?”

“Why?” you giggle as Mathew’s breath tickles you.

“Because you’re in it,” Mathew flirts.

“Shut up,” you say bashfully as the warmth reaches your face.

“It’s true,” he whispers. “I’m not ready for you to go back to school. I want you here forever.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure. “After I graduate, I’m going to get a job here in New York, and we’ll be here forever together. Don’t worry; you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mathew says and places a kiss on your cheek.

Age 22

Mathew is sitting next to your father with a bouquet of flowers and your polaroid camera on his lap. Mathew’s leg is bouncing as he anxiously waits for your name to be called. It was finally your graduation day. You’ve been working hard for the past four years, and it was finally paying off. Mathew was so proud of you, and he was so happy that he got to be here at his super smart, super beautiful girlfriend’s graduation day.

A name a few before yours was called, and Mathew and your family perked their attention to be ready when you were called. In moments, your name was called, and you were walking across the stage. Mathew and your family all stood up to cheer for you. Mathew put the flowers down on his chair and put the camera up to take a photo. He snapped one exactly as you were handed your diploma. He put the photo in his wallet with the same one from when you were five.

As you were walking across the stage, you caught Mathew’s eyes, and he winked at you. You smiled bashfully, and as you sat, you felt the warmth on your face. The rest of the celebration went by quickly as you all threw your caps in the air and cheered. You were done! You finished! You were officially a college graduate! You said tearful goodbyes and congratulations to your friends before making your way to your family and Mathew.

Mathew stood to the side as your grandparents, parents, and siblings embraced you and congratulated you. He could see the impatience in your eyes as you greeted each and everyone of them, wanting to greet Mathew. As you hugged your grandparents after your parents, your mother walked over to Mathew.

“Hand me the polaroid camera. I’ll take a few as she comes over to you,” your mother says, and Mathew hands her the camera.

Finally, finally, it was Mathew’s turn to see you. “Congratulations,” he says to you softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“These are for you,” Mathew says and hands you the flowers. You both vaguely notice the flash of the camera as your mother took a photo of Mathew handing you the flowers. You take the flowers and smile behind them embarrassed. One of your siblings takes the flowers from you, so you can properly embrace Mathew. He wraps you in a giant hug and kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“I can’t believe that my girlfriend is a college graduate,” Mathew comments as you pull away to look at him. He leans his head down and kisses you softly. You reach your hands to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you. You both deepen the kiss but not too much as your father was right there watching you two. As you and Mathew kiss, you both, once again, vaguely recall a flash of the polaroid camera. It didn’t matter. When you both were together, especially kissing, the entire world faded away. Finally, you both pull away with breathless smiles.

A few weeks later, you were both back home in Coquitlam, and it was nearing the end of your graduation party. Mathew was sitting on the back deck with his parents, Liana and your dad as the night winded down. In your hand, you held the two photos your mother took and wanted to show Mathew.

“Mind if I steal him for a moment?” you ask resting your hand on Mathew’s shoulder.

“Please, he keeps talking about you, and it’s making me sick,” Liana says. Everyone laughs in response, and you take Mathew’s hand and lead him away from the group.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I want to show you the photos from graduation,” you tell him. “The polaroids.”

You and Mathew find a spot in the backyard and sit. Mathew sits first and opens his legs for you to sit in between. You rest with your back against his chest, and his arms reach around your waist to hold you tightly. He kisses the side of your cheek as you show him the photos.

“Here’s the first one,” you say and show him one. It’s the photo of Mathew handing you the bouquet of flowers. Smiles are adorned on both your faces, and Mathew’s eyes are laced with nothing but love for you. “We look good.”

“You always say that,” Mathew teases.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” you reply looking at your boyfriend of many, many years.

He kisses your temple. “What’s the next one?”

You flip to the next photo and show it to him.

“Now this one, this one, we look good,” Mathew says, giving you a raised eyebrow. It was a photo of Mathew giving you your congratulatory kiss.

“We do look good,” you comment with a smile.

Mathew was contemplating on whether or not to tell you about the photo he took of you while you walked across the stage. He opted against it wanting to keep the photo to himself for the moment. “This is our thing, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean ‘our thing’?” you ponder.

“You know, all couples have their thing. This is our thing, taking polaroid photos,” Mathew explains.

“I guess it is,” you hum. “It’s not a bad ‘thing’ to have.”

“It really isn’t,” Mathew says and kisses you. He will be forever indebted to his mother for starting this tradition that the two of you have.

Age 24

On your first night after moving to New York, Anthony and Mathew insisted on taking you out to celebrate. You were tired, though, from unpacking and settling in all day, so you told them you didn’t want to do anything crazy. Why was Anthony tagging along? You didn’t know. He was there to help unpack, and he said you three should celebrate, so here you were.

You let Anthony and Mathew pick what they wanted to do as you showered and unpacked your stuff in the washroom. You walked out freshly showered to Mathew and Anthony having wide smiles on their faces.

“What if we took you to Times Square?” Mathew says. He walks over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. You hum in response, but Mathew isn’t sure if it's from the hug or agreeing with going to Times Square. You wrap your arms around him and breathe in his scent. You missed his scent before you moved in with him. You spent a few years back home with a job before you moved to New York. You wanted to be on your own for a bit before making the trek across the continent.

Anthony clears his throat to signal that you and Mathew weren’t the only two in the room. You both pull away, and Mathew’s face is crimson red as he meets his friend’s eyes. “So, Times Square, yes or no?”

“Sure, but not too late because I’m tired,” you reply. Getting to Manhattan from Mathew’s, no your apartment, Long Island apartment was long. You told them the train would be easier, but Mathew and Anthony would rather drive, so driving it was. The entire night was a blur. You were tired and exhausted, and the ecstasy you felt from being in the City with your boyfriend, finally, was too much to handle. You were over the moon overjoyed.

The three of you stopped for a moment in the main square of Times Square, and you looked around in awe. Mathew was watching you with nothing but love in his eyes as you took in the sight. He spent every night over the past few years wishing and dreaming of the nights and days he’d get to have you by his side. Anthony, on the other hand, was rolling his eyes at his best friend’s love sick nature.

“Did you bring your polaroid camera?” Mathew whispers into your ear.

“Yes, why?” you ask with a smile on your face that makes Mathew melt into a puddle.

“Let’s get Beau to take a photo for us.”

You watch as Mathew asks Anthony to take a photo of the two of you; you giggle quietly as Anthony rolls his eyes but says yes. Mathew walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. Anthony holds the camera up as you and Mathew smile for him. However, instead of looking at the camera, Mathew is looking down at you as you smile at the camera. He’s looking at you, the love of his life and the light of his life. Anthony snaps the photo but rolls his eyes at the lovesickness of his best friend. The photo prints, and you throw it into your purse to look at later. You continue to explore the awakeness of the Big Apple with your hand in Mathew’s. You fell in love with the city, and you were excited to be living in the lively state of New York.

Later that night, you’re getting ready for bed and standing at your dresser in the bedroom. You set your purse on it and take the polaroid camera out. Next, you take the photo out of your wallet and look at it. You smile at you and Mathew in the photo. As you’re looking, Mathew walks out of the washroom with his sweats hanging low on his hips without a shirt on and wraps his arms around you. He holds you close against his bare chest and rests his head on your shoulder breathing in your comforting and familiar scent.

“What’re you looking at?” he asks in a low husky voice that sends chills down your spine.

“The photo from tonight,” you say in a low voice as Mathew pulls you closer into his body. “You didn’t even look at the camera.”

“It’s a waste of time to stare at a camera when the best part of my life is right there,” Mathew flirts. He kisses your neck in between words pulling a soft whimper from you.

“You’re such a flirt,” you teasingly scoff. You rest the photo on the dresser and turn around, so you’re facing Mathew. You rest your arms on his shoulders and feel the expanse of the muscles there. You watch as Mathew’s eyes begin to darken and fill with need and desire.

“How else am I supposed to keep my girl satisfied?” he smirks.

“I can think of a few ways,” you tell him confidently before closing the space and placing a kiss on his lips. Mathew instantly picks you up, and you yelp slightly at the sudden touch. He carries you to the bed and places you down slowly. In between kisses, you tell him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than anyone or anything in the world,” he replies. One day, he knew that he’d be getting Anthony to take a photo of the two of you with an engagement ring on your left hand.

Age 25

Engagement Party

Four months after you moved to New York, Mathew proposed to you. He got down on one knee during a date-night at home. You knew something was up when Mathew was nervous the entire night. You, obviously, said yes to forever with your best friend and the love of your life.

Now eight months later, Mathew’s family was throwing you both a small engagement party to celebrate the engagement about a month before your wedding. It was just both of your immediate families and close friends. You didn’t invite many people knowing the majority of the important people in your life would be flying to Vancouver for the wedding in about a month.

You were wearing a white sundress that made you feel like the bride that all movies and books describe. You were surrounded by your family, but most importantly, you were celebrating getting married to your best friend and love of your life.

It was getting late, and you were sitting on Mathew’s lap. You were resting your head on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms wrapped around yours. The steady breathing from him and his warmth led to you falling asleep. He was tracing small patterns on your hip as he continued to talk to the small group of people around you. At some point, you heard Mathew tell someone to grab his sweater, and he threw it over your shoulders. You were so tired and didn’t tell him you were cold, but he just knew.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you just did. No one noticed you were asleep until someone asked you a question, and you didn’t respond. Mathew looked down at you and noticed that you were sleeping. You looked adorable and comfortable in his arms. Mathew’s heartbeat quickened as he realized that he got to spend the rest of his life with the person in his arms. He got to spend the rest of his life with the person in his arms who looked so at rest, so beautiful, and so happy.

Liana quietly gets up to grab your polaroid camera from your purse. She knew that you’d want to have this documented.

“Get used to this, Mathew,” your dad began. “Yn will be falling asleep in your arms like this forever.”

Mathew smiled at your father’s words and rested his head against yours. He’d be more than okay with that. Liana didn’t tell Mathew he was going to take a photo. She knew that you’d far rather that the photo was candid and not scripted. Liana approached the group quietly and snapped a photo. Mathew was too absorbed in holding you that he didn’t notice. Liana left the photo on your nightstand where you found it the next morning. You smiled at the photo when you saw it knowing you weren’t making a mistake with who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Wedding Day

You woke up the night after your wedding day curled into Mathew’s bare chest. You opened your eyes and a wide smile erupted across your face. You ran your fingers along Mathew’s stomach, and your breath hitched in your throat when you caught sight of your wedding band on your left finger.

“Morning, baby,” Mathew says in his morning voice that still makes your heart flutter. He runs his left hand across your back, and his wedding band sends chills down your spine.

“Did you know that we got married last night?” you ask sweetly.

He gives you a low chuckle. “Yes, I do know that.”

You giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both lay in bed for a while in silence before Mathew says anything again. “Liana gave me the photos she took on the polaroid last night.”

“Oh,” you say as you sit up. You and Mathew put Liana in charge of taking a few polaroid photos of the two of you knowing she’d be the best one to do so. Mathew also roped in Anthony, but you both had more faith in Liana.

You sit up against the headboard as Mathew gets up and grabs the envelope that Liana gave him before you both left the previous night. Mathew pulls you against him as he rests against the headboard, too, and hands you the photos. You look in the envelope and notice six photos.

You pull out one and smile at it. It was your first dance with Mathew. Liana took the photo perfectly just as the song was coming to a close and Mathew was twirling you with your dress splaying out around you. Mathew had nothing but love in his for his new wife and a giant smile on his;he had tunnel vision when he looked at you. The entire world faded away except for you. You remember Mathew placing a kiss on you just as you reentered his embrace. Your heart was beating through your chest as Mathew and you continued to dance to the remainder of the song.

“We look good,” you tell him, showing him the photo. Mathew grabs the photo from your hand and is careful to only hold the corners. You’ve been on his case many, many times about not smudging the photo.

“You look good, babe,” Mathew corrects. “You always will look better than me.”

You smile bashfully at your husband’s words and smile into his chest. He tightens his grip around you before grabbing the envelope, placing the photo in it, and grabbing another. He smiles at the photo of him and his mother dancing together. “Look, it’s your mother-in-law,” he comments.

You look at the photo and smile. “Indeed it is.”

“Is it weird that she’s officially your mother-in-law?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s different, but not weird. Your mom has always been in my life, so it’s not like I don’t know her. Is it weird that my parents are your in-laws?”

“Yes, absolutely. The amount of stares that your father has given me? He never scared me when we were growing up, but in the past few years, he has.”

You laugh and place a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry. He’s just being protective of his child.”

“It better be just that,” Mathew mumbles. You grab another photo from the envelope and smile at the photo of you and your dad dancing together. Both yours and your father’s eyes had tears in their eyes knowing that this was it. This was what you both knew was coming but weren’t ready for. You were starting a life with Mathew and forming your new family, and your father was losing his child to the man who loves you as much as he does.

You put the photo back in the envelope and grab the next one. It was the photo of the kiss after the officiant said, “you may now kiss your bride.” You and Mathew both had wide smiles on your faces as you leaned in for the first kiss as a married couple. You remember how eager Mathew was to kiss you and how much he needed to kiss you. Sometimes, it makes you wonder how he goes on long roadtrips without kissing you. Mathew’s hands were sitting on your waist under the edges of your veil with his gold wedding band reflecting the light of the ceremony’s venue. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders with the light reflecting off your grandmother’s tennis bracelet, your something old, and Mathew’s grandmother’s gold bracelet, your something borrowed. The space between you two was non-existent as you both needed to be as close as possible to kiss. You and Mathew both had a professional photographer at the wedding, but there was something more special about the photo being taken by someone who you loved.

The fifth photo is of you and Mathew giving each other a bite of your wedding cake after biting it. You both opted for a traditional two-tiered cake with white fondant and flowers around the base. Mathew had his left arm on your waist, your veil taken off to preserve it, with his right hand holding a fork close to your mouth. You had your dominant hand resting on his chest with your nondominant hand with a fork in it to feed Mathew a piece of cake. You both were looking in each other’s eyes but midlaugh. You couldn’t remember what he said that made you laugh so hard, but you did.

The six and final photo Liana took was of your send off. To reminisce from your high school graduation party, you and Mathew opted for a sparkler send off. Sure, it was cliche but much of your relationship with Mathew was a cliche. You and Mathew were standing in front of his car as your family and friends held sparklers cheering for you all. Mathew had his hands cupping your face and giving you a kiss with a wide smile on his face. You had your arms in his hair holding him close to you. It was a perfect ending for the day of your dreams with the man of your dreams starting the life of your dreams.

“I can’t wait to see all the professional photos,” you tell him as you put the envelope on the nightstand.

“Who really needs professional photos?”

“I mean, we have all those polaroids from growing up but not many from last night, so we do?”

Mathew looks at you and smiles. “I guess we do.”

The professional photos were exactly what you were hoping for. Each time you looked at them, your heart beat just a tad faster and your stomach did somersaults. Mathew always did have that effect on you.

Honeymoon

After the wedding of your dreams, you and Mathew were off to Paris for a honeymoon of your dreams. Sure, it was very cliche, but, again, everything about yours and Mathew’s relationship was a cliche.

It was halfway through the trip when it dawned on Mathew that you both didn’t have a polaroid photo together. He was shocked to say the least when he realized it. That same day, you and Mathew were heading to the Eiffel Tower, and Mathew figured it was the best opportunity for a photo op, so he threw the camera into your purse and made a mental promise to get a photo of the two of you.

You and Mathew purchased your tickets and took the elevator to the top of the tower. On the descent, you and Mathew got off on the second level to get more pictures opting to take the steps down. You were looking at the Parisian skyline with Mathew holding you against his chest. Your arms were crossed against your chest with Mathew’s arms on top of yours. The metal of his wedding band sending shivers down your spine.

“Can we take a photo?” Mathew mumbles against your ear.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. You aren’t sure why you whispered, but you didn’t want to break the intimate moment.

“I’ll go find someone to take it for us. Polaroid, right?”

You smile softly. “Yeah.”

Mathew asks one of the working attendants to take a photo for you two. You hand the polaroid camera to the attendant. You and Mathew take the same position you were just in; however, now, you were both facing away from the skyline. You smile for the camera, but, as usual, Mathew isn’t looking at the camera but at you.

“Your husband wasn’t looking at the camera, would you like me to retake it?” the attendant asks.

You laugh softly. “No, that’s okay. Thank you.”

The attendant walks away as you look at the photo. “Why don’t you ever look at the camera? We rarely have any photos of us — polaroid or digital — where you look at the camera.”

“I think I’ve said this already, Yn, but there’s no need to look at the camera when all I want to look at is you.”

You smile and shake your head playfully at your husband. “Okay, smooth talker, take a photo of me?”

“Gladly.”

Mathew took way too many pictures of you on his phone, but his words were “it’s important to capture your world in someone else’s eyes” which he did.

Age 27

Three weeks after giving birth to your first son, Isaac, you and Mathew were exhausted to say the least. Being new parents and with the stress of the end of the regular season coming soon, you and Mathew were just plain exhausted.

Mathew was at a hockey game that night. Somehow, despite the exhaustion of being a new father, Mathew was still playing well. He managed to have a four point night; the commentators said something about his new found “father strength.”

The game ended about an hour ago, and Mathew would be home any minute. Finally, finally, Isaac was sleeping and wasn’t crying. You posted a note on the door for Mathew telling him that if he woke Isaac, you were going to a hotel to sleep. Mathew, chuckled to himself, when he read your note. He walked into your apartment, and his heart melted at what he saw. You were sitting on the couch with Isaac sleeping on your chest. You were stroking his back to keep him quiet. Every few moments you’d kiss his head out of love.

You left the polaroid camera on the kitchen counter after taking a few photos of Isaac and your new family. Leaving the camera out allowed for Mathew to take a photo of you without knowing. He puts his stuff down quietly and picks up the camera. He takes it out of the case and snaps a photo. The flash of the camera startles you slightly. When you look over to the flash, you smile when you see your husband. Mathew places the photo facedown on the table and walks over to you. He takes his tie off and rests it on the side of the couch. He sits next to you and kisses your forehead. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

“How was Isaac?”

“He was good,” you tell him. “I’m tired. I’m not sure how I’m going to get through the rest of his life.”

“Hey, we’ll be okay, okay? We’ll figure it out, okay?” Mathew reassures.

You nod. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

Later that night, you put Isaac down for bed and enter your bedroom. You fell asleep easily that night in Mathew’s arms with a soft smile on your face. Yeah, everything would be okay.

Age 28

Shortly after giving birth to Isaac, both you and Mathew were hit with a really bad case of baby fever. Everytime you or Mathew held Isaac, the next immediate thought you both had was “let’s have another baby.” Every time you saw Mathew doing skin-to-skin contact with Isaac, your heart would flutter with love for your husband, your son, and a strong desire for another baby.

Seven months postpartum, you finally felt comfortable with approaching your husband with the topic of having another baby. Mathew was super excited that you brought it up. At first, trying to conceive was slightly painful. You were both patient with the process knowing it would happen when it would happen. You finally conceived after six months of trying.

Five months later, you felt comfortable announcing it to the world. You bought a whiteboard and wrote a message that said, “Baby Barzal #2 coming soon.” Also, you placed the ultrasound photo on the top corner with a baby jersey with “Barzal 02” on it. You took a photo of it to post both on yours and Mathew’s instagrams. You smiled at the messages you received from your friends, family, the WAGs, and Mathew’s teammates. You both opted not to tell anyone except for immediate family wanting to enjoy the news on your own for the time being.

“Mathew, do you know where the polaroid camera is?” you call out realizing that you had a polaroid of the baby announcement for Isaac but not baby number two.

“On the dresser, probably,” he called from Isaac’s room. You could hear the scrunch in his nose as he changed Isaac’s smelly diaper.

“Thanks, babe,” you call back and walk into your bedroom. You grab the camera and walk back to where you have the pregnancy announcement still sitting on the floor. You snap a photo and smile as you place it on the wall.

With baby #2, your heart was full and excited for what would be coming in the future.

Age 29

“Anthony, please?” you beg.

“Why do you guys always get me to take the photos of the two of you?” Anthony whines.

“Because you’re the best at it!” These words do not convince him further to take a photo of you, Mathew, your daughter, Shannon, and your son, Isaac. “What about, if we have another baby, we name them Anthony”

“What? No,” Mathew yells. “No way. No more kids”

“Just give me the camera,” Anthony sighs. You, who is holding Shannon, and Mathew, who is holding Isaac, walk out to the door of your new house. Shortly after finding out you were pregnant with your second child, you and Mathew began looking for a house to live in, figuring an apartment, no matter the size, was too small for the family you both wanted to build.

Mathew holds Isaac in his right arm and wraps his left arm around your waist. You hold Shannon in your left arm with your right arm wrapped around Mathew and look up at him and smile. He smiles back down at you. Anthony knows, after taking way too many polaroids for you two, when to take the photo — when you both inevitably kiss. As he expected, Mathew leans down and kisses you with a wide smile. Anthony holds up the camera and snaps a photo. You both pull back as Anthony hands the photo and camera to you.

“One of your future kids better have Anthony as their middle name or something. Don’t say you’re not having more because we both know the way Barzy is,” he grumbles as he walks back into your newly finished house.

Mathew goes into Isaac’s bedroom to put him down for a nap as you put Shannon down for a nap and grab the tape to put this new polaroid photo on the wall. You put it up and smile at the rows and rows of photos that line the walls. You stand there looking sentimentally at all the memories.

“Hey, you okay?” Mathew asks and rests an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, just look at all the photos from our lives,” you tell him. You rest your head on his chest as you both your eyes trace over the photos. The photos spanned from many different parts of your lives, both together and separately. On the wall, there are many photos of you and Mathew from when you were young, to young adults, to adults living together in New York. On this wall tells the story of how you were best friends from a young age to being lovers to finally being married. The wall tells the stories of you and your friends from high school and college, and it tells the story of Mathew’s hockey career. The wall tells the story of your engagement and marriage. All the photos are a piece of who you both are.

“Here’s to many more photos on this wall,” Mathew says.

“And to maybe another wall dedicated to polaroid photos,” you add on getting a smirk from Mathew.

“The more kids we have, the more photos we’re going to have.”

You giggle. “I thought you didn’t want any more kids.”

“We make some really great kids, so maybe.”

“And it's not because you have a breeding kink?” you tease, and Mathew blushes at your words.

“Maybe it’s because you look great pregnant.”

“So, maybe more kids?” you suggest with a smile.

“Maybe more kids,” Mathew confirms with a kiss on your cheek.

Despite the wall being 75% filled, you knew that your best days were still ahead of you. You couldn’t wait for the future photos that will tell the story of yours and Mathew’s lives together.

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @boqvistsbabe @heatherawoowoo @heaveniish @stars-canucks @tkapuckit @mellany1997 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @2manytabsopen @habsfan @besthockeyfics @plds2000 @kaitieskidmore1 @iwantahockeyhimbo @tysonsjosty @barzysandmarnersbitch @ollywahlygator @leafs-forever @laurenairay @no-pucks-given @sixmapleleafs @davopuck @thebestoffanfiction @islesnucks (Join my taglist here!)

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ghost-like-pale · 3 years ago

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fuckin' perv

info: some gross guy thinks you're his, sapnap thinks otherwise. 》 female clothing/anatomy, they/them pronouns 》 irl + romantic 》 1.4k words

warnings: (sexual) harassment and assault, physical fighting, hurt/comfort, swearing

a/n: ty for the support on my last piece ♡ please enjoy

this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.

——♤——

the evening sun shone an orange glow over the city. the chatter of the citizens rang through the streets past all the tall buildings, the cars and taxis making their way to their patron's destinations and the smell of your favorite restaurants wafted past the pavement. you've grown up in the city, getting used to it, yet never getting bored.

all of these memories made you think about your boyfriend; he was a real country boy - born and raised in texas and everything. it never failed to bring a smile to your face whenever he pointed out a particularly tall office or a pretty neon 'open' sign.

something he's never been very fond of is the people. specifically older men. they always had a certain look on their face as you walked by, making him swing an arm around your hip or slipping a hand in your pocket. he's always been quite protective over his lover. you didn't mind, though.

—

there wasn't much time to reminisce on your loverboy right now - you were going to see him today! your car broke the day before, so with great displeasure you had to take the bus. you hated public transport. everyone was so close to each other, the air was stuffy and there was always someone to make you horribly uncomfortable.

you pulled your mask further over your nose when you reached the stop. the small space was bordered by plastic panels and a poster for some music event, nothing of interest. the sound coming from your earbuds made your foot tap the the rhythm until the bus finally emerged from the passing traffic.

the ride was peaceful, which made you strangely wary - like a calm moment before the storm. you didn't mind the busride being quiet, but the feeling never shook.

after waving at the busdriver and thanking him kindly, you hopped off the vehicle onto the concrete pavement. three other people walked out with you; and old couple, one holding a walker and a 20-something year old man. the clicking of his tongue grew impatient as he got stuck behind the couple. after a moment the two elders managed to get off the bus safely and the man could finally get to his stop.

you didn't pay them any mind, you wanted to see sapnap as soon as possible. you kept walking at a brisk pace, growing more exited with every step. after passing and crossing a few streets you started to feel uneasy. feeling eyes drilling right through your back, you rummaged in your bag and pulled out a small handheld mirror and lip gloss. as you were applying your gloss you glanced behind you, scanning the faces you could catch from within you peripheral vision.

you were surprised to see the impatient man from the bus stop a few feet behind you. now realizing the situation, you hastily stuff everything back into your bag and start walking again, this time quicker than before. the stabbing look didn't shake, however.

you were getting more anxious as it got darker and the crowds became scarce. the destination was on the edge of the city, where there was nothing other than small stores and the occasional crappy apartment building. the pavement was easy to see if you looked down; no polished dress shoes, no sneakers, no stilettos, nothing. just the occasional group of chatting teenagers passing by or an overworked retail worker walking home.

with every frantic step forward he seemed to get one step closer. the sound of your feet tapping on the floor came to a halt as you arrived at a crosswalk with a red light. the man hummed an unorganized tune and stood behind you and casually waited for the light to turn green. everytime you'd move, so would he. the brief moment waiting in front of the crosswalk felt like centuries.

—

ding. the pole emitted a bright green and you sighed in relief. you rushed over to the other side of the street, making sure not to hit someone on the way there. as you were moving along you suddenly felt a hand on your back, slowly gliding down over your-

"what are you doing?!"

the panic in your voice didn't phase the man, though he did take his hand off your lower half and placed it on your neck instead. he slowly backed you into a small alleyway while muttering a response.

"calm down, cutie. it's just a hand."

you slapped his hand off yourself, losing the hope you had when you realized you were the only one with him on this block.

"let me go, you creep!"

this response to his 'compliment' didn't please him; he harshly grabbed you by the roots of your hair and pushed you against the cold brick wall of a corner store.

"listen here, bitch. you're gonna listen to me real good, and you're gonna obey everything i tell you, understood?"

you whimpered in pain, shutting your eyes and tears dipping at your chin.

"understood?!"

with another yank at your hair you mewled and nodded hastily. this seemed to satisfy him.

"good. now, let's have some fun, shall we?"

his hand rested on your thigh and gradually made its way up, under your skirt until it hit your underwear. the other was around your wrists, holding them both with his larger hands to the side of your head. his feet trapped yours, putting his weight on your toes so you wouldn't kick him.

"ngh-!"

"heh, can't handle stimulation, can you? guess this will be more fun than i imagined- ugh!"

the man was knocked back harshly, the hand that connected with his face quickly retreating to the body it belonged to. sapnap. the man felt his jaw, there was blood dripping off his lip.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO THEM?!"

sapnap boomed in anger at the man. before he could even think of an answer he was hit again by the same hand. sapnap was now right next to you, him seeing your trembling figure in his peripheral vision. once he was sure that gross excuse of a person was going to stay down he turned to you.

his entire body language changed; his arms turning from tense limbs into a welcoming place to rest in, his chest forming into a warm pillow to fall into, his eyes from a slaughtering rage into a kind and sympathetic expression. your tears were already flowing as you sank into his embrace. he engulfed you completely, shielding you from everything and anyone, soothing the intense fear and horror you just experienced.

"you're okay now, baby. i got you, i got you."

his tone was smooth like honey, the words pulling you further in his secure clutch. the screaming must've attracted a few people, because before you knew it your hug was interrupted by him gently loosening his grasp and lowering his voice.

"we should get home, we don't want this hellhole to become a exhibition. here-"

he unwrapped his arms and pulled his grey hoodie over his head and handed the clothing article to you.

"wear this, baby."

you accepted his hoodie and threw it over your upper body. when you were finished sapnap grabbed your hand and guided you out the alleyway and turning a corner. his car was parked a little further.

"i wanted to give you a nice ride through the outer city, but i think you'd rather be home, am i right?"

you nodded. your face was stung by the wet streaks on your face with the cooling air hitting your features. you eventually reached the car, sapnap sitting down into the driver's position and you plopping down onto the passenger seat.

—

the soft revving of the car's engine made for a nice background noise as you drove over to sapnap's house. you reached the destination quicker than expected. time didn't feel like it was passing at this point.

your legs refused to move, even when sapnap opened the door for you. sapnap, understanding the situation, picked you up bridal-style and carried you and your bag out the vehicle.

—

your body was weak, both from the late hours of the night and your vivid memory of what happened about half an hour ago. the mattress sank next to you as you snuggled further under the covers. sapnap radiated warmth, making you move your body towards him and latching onto him like a koala.

"rest, angel. we'll talk about it in the morning."

his voice reverberated in his chest, the vibrations bringing you comfort. his hand found a good spot on the top of your head, lightly pushing it into him.

"good night, (y/n)."

you hummed as a response before passing out. sapnapchuckled at your cute resting face.

"sleep well, baby. you deserve it."

—

thank you for reading. please don't be too harsh on me, heh

masterlist

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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago

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Valentine’s Day

Summary: Y/N receives a special candy gram on Valentine’s Day.

Genre: Valentine’s Day Fluff with Middle School Band Teacher!Harry

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Hi my valentines!!! There’s about 30 minutes left of Valentine’s Day for me and I finished this piece right in time!! Thank you to the angel herself @tbslenthusiast for beta reading this for me and I cant wait to hear what you all think!! More of my writing can be found in my Masterlist and I would love to hear some feedback!

***

Valentine’s Day was never fun for you. You dreaded this day every year.

Valentine's Day in a middle school was full of teddy bears and flowers purchased by someone’s mom and having to tell 12 year olds to stop kissing in the hallway. You also knew that you would be inevitably interrogated by your students about your love life before getting any of them to listen to your lesson about the industrial revolution.

And every year, your answer stayed the same.

“It is none of your business,” you would begin with a teasing sigh. “But if you all have to know, I am happily single.”

And every year, you were met with a chorus of disappointed whines.

Your students were always desperate to wiggle their way into your personal life, a side-effect of being one of the youngest teachers in the school. You were closer in age to them than to some of your coworkers and they took advantage of that fact constantly, creating an open and honest dialogue with their favorite history teacher.

“But do you have a crush, Miss Y/L/N?” Jenna, one of your favorite students, piped up this Valentine’s Day from the front row. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way she raised her eyebrow at you from her desk, inquisitive and adorably curious.

“How about this?” you started, raising your own eyebrow to match her’s. “I’ll tell you if I have a crush, if you can tell me why the printing press was so important to the industrial revolution.”

Your heart started to drop as you watched the massive smile stretch across her face, exposing a mouth full of braces with pink rubber bands. They weren't supposed to learn about the printing press for another week.

“It made information more affordable and easier to access which bridged the information gap between the rich and the poor,” she answered like she had the textbook right in front of her. She crossed her arms triumphantly and leaned back into her seat while the class oohed and ahhed around her, knowing she had kept up her end of their deal.

You felt your cheeks heat as your classroom descended into giggles as your flustered face. “Nice job, smarty pants,” you let out with a nervous giggle.

“Remember, honesty is the best policy,” another student shouted out, pointing towards the poster on the wall of your classroom next to the world map that read the same saying.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you conceded, raising your hands in surrender to the classroom full of seventh graders. “I do have a crush.”

Your students erupted at your admission. Whos, whats, wheres, whens, and whys were thrown out by the class, but only a gentle smirk rested on your features, refusing to relinquish any more information to the children demanding it.

“You aren’t getting anything else than that!” you raised your voice to settle the rowdy classroom with a laugh. You moved from the front of the class back to your desk, listening to the gentle click of your heels on the white tile and gathering the stack of worksheets for that day’s lesson. “Now, pass these around and stop asking questions,” you playfully scolded.

“That’s not what your poster says, Miss Y/L/N,” Jenna spoke up again, pointing out another poster on your wall.

Never stop asking questions! was written in bold rainbow colors on the wall and it was now staring back at you.

You let out a chuckle and shook your head at the floor, knowing they had caught you once again. “I’m going to take down all my posters and you’re going to have to learn in a boring classroom soon.”

“We are just looking out for your love life!”

“You deserve a boyfriend!”

“Or a girlfriend!”

“Just someone who loves you!”

You smiled wide at the class full of endearing faces in front of you. They had nothing but good intentions and were sweeter than Valentine’s Day candy. You loved these kids like they were your own.

“Guys, I appreciate your concern,” you confessed. “But I promise I have it under control.”

After that, they began to settle down, eventually letting you give your lesson on the industrial revolution and scientific advancements of the period.

But you knew you had told them a lie.

You did not have it under control, at all. You were hopelessly in love with the kind man with curly hair and green eyes down the hallway in the band room and had no idea what to do about it.

Harry was one of your first friends when you were hired last year, volunteering to show you around the school and fill you in on all the workplace gossip. He had flecks of cheeky mischief in his eyes as he told you about the gym and spanish teachers’ affair and how the coffee machine was broken by one of the math teachers after a bad administrative evaluation. You had listened adoringly, like he was explaining the meaning of life, and you hadn’t been able to shake your crush since.

You brought each other coffees on the daily and were always in and out of each other’s classrooms. He always made sure you were a chaperone on his field trips and you always made sure he was one on yours. He had even convinced you to let your classes come to band practice once a month so they could play music from the time period your classes were currently studying.

He was endearing and kind and charming and so so good with all the kids. He was also incredibly sexy, which made it even more difficult to control yourself around him. You had the fattest and most uncontrollable crush on him, but he was your friend and you didn’t want to ruin that.

The ring of the bell that signified the end of the class period brought you out of your Harry induced haze, waving goodbye to your students and shouting after them to do their homework and to stop kissing in the hallways. You stood against the door frame of your classroom and watched their little awkward bodies skurry towards their next class, but your attention was soon caught by the tall man who’s chocolate curls stuck out high above the sea of middle schoolers that surrounded him.

“Good morning, love. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he smiled wide, dimples appearing like they were inviting you to poke them, as he reached your classroom and your heart fluttered at his affectionate pet name.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry,” you beamed back at him, hoping he and the passing students didn’t pick up on the adoration that was becoming very hard for you to hide.

“Oi, stop that,” he called over your shoulder, slight disgust showing on his face. You turned around and were met by two kids sucking face behind you. “Guys, just go to class,” he exasperatedly sighed when he was met by their shocked and embarrassed faces. Once they were gone, the two of you descended into a fit of giggles.

“They have no shame!” you laughed.

“Absolutely none!”

“Why are you over here? Not that you aren't welcome, but don’t you have a class to teach?” you teased gently as students began to gradually fill up your own classroom.

“I thought I would stop by and wish you a happy love day.” He smiled wide at you and spoke sweetly. If you weren’t reading into it too closely, you thought he might even be blushing a bit. “And it’s okay,” he waved off his class, clearing his throat and his voice returning to normal. “They’ll survive a few minutes alone. I trust them.”

“You shouldn’t,” you giggled again.

“Yeah,” he nodded with a chuckle. “I probably should get back, but I wanted to invite you to come to my classroom and get some cookies whenever you get a chance today.”

You felt your heart soar at his invitation, no matter how friendly the proposal. “I am free next period.”

“I know,” he winked, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. “I will see you then,” he grinned as he began to walk backwards down the hallway, maintaining eye contact for as long as he could, before spinning down the hall just as the bell rang to start the next period.

You tried your best to focus on your lesson about the renaissance with your sixth graders, but your mind kept floating back to the delightful man who had invited you for cookies.

Had he invited all of the teachers for cookies? Or did he ask just you? Was he just being nice? Or did he actually want to see you? Had he been flirting with you?

The lesson was interrupted when there was a knock on your classroom door. You opened it up to find one of your students, Matt, dressed in a giant heart costume holding baskets full of labelled chocolate bars.

“I’m here to give out Valentine’s Day candy grams, Miss Y/L/N!” Matt exclaimed, his face barely fitting into the far too large hole cut out for his face. Every year the student council set up a candy gram fundraiser and the kid in the suit never got any less cute. You let out a chuckle as you looked down at him, opening the door further and letting him into the room.

You watched with a smile as he called out students’ names and the genuine surprise and flattery that passed over their features. Cheeks turned red and shy smiles played on their lips as they made their way to the front of the room and retrieved their candy from the giant pink heart.

You were caught off guard when you heard your own name be called. Matt held out the meticulously wrapped pink candy bar out to you as the class let out an “ooh” and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Your cheeks heated even further as you read the label.

To: Miss Y/L/N

From: Mr. Styles

Will you be my valentine?

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you had a very hard time holding back the large and toothy grin that wanted to appear in front of your students.

“Who is it from?” one of your students asked excitedly.

“I don’t ask who your Valentines are, do I?” you teased, but held the candy bar close to your chest over your heart. You could feel your heart racing underneath your hands.

The giant pink heart standing at the front of the classroom finished distributing his candy and your class led a chorus of goodbyes as he left the room, onto the next classroom to spread some more innocent young love. You impatiently watched the clock tick down the seconds until the bell rang and released both you and your students out into the school.

And just when it felt like it might never come, the bell rang through the school and your students were off into the chaos of a passing period. You followed closely behind after you gathered your things, the candy bar slid carefully into your bag. You flowed along with the flow of children that carried you down the hallway, heart racing as Harry’s classroom came into view, your feet quickly matching it’s tempo.

Your footsteps echoed on the tile in the acoustics of the large room, your voice bouncing off the walls as you said hello. He had been tuning a guitar when you came in, his attention flashing up from the instrument in his hands to you.

“I was promised cookies,” you teased him. “They better be good.”

“I promise they are. They’re my nan’s recipe.”

“Of course they’re your nan’s recipe,” you sighed with a chuckle.

“What’s so bad about using my nan’s recipe?” he asked incredulously, grinning as he settled the guitar back into its stand and moved towards you.

“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed adoringly. “I just think it’s very sweet.”

“You haven’t even tried them yet! You can’t say they’re too sweet.”

You couldn’t hold back the giant smile that was so wide it made your cheeks hurt, chuckling at his cheesy joke. He made you feel warm when he moved closer to you, like someone had just turned up the heat in the large room.

“I meant that you were sweet, silly,” you tried to joke, but it came out genuine and soft. You bit on your lip nervously, replaying the affectionate tone in your head over and over.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he smirked softly at the pet name and you felt like you were soaring.

He was close to you now, having crossed the room and standing only a few feet away from your body. You wanted to close the space between you two, to kiss him with all your might, to tell him you would love to be his valentine. But just as you built up the courage, he stepped away towards his desk, retrieving a cookie for both of you.

The cookies were shaped into small perfect hearts with a coarse pink sugar pressed into the soft biscuit. The cookie melted in your mouth and the sugar granules crunched between your teeth. You had to hold yourself back from releasing a moan at the taste. They were dainty and delicate and you could only imagine how much time he had put into them.

But you weren’t shocked. Harry was like that. He was gentle, taking care and measured precision with everything he did. He spoke to the kids with tender care, making them feel talented and successful, and was always there to lend a helping hand whenever one of them needed it. And he spoke to you the same way.

“Harry-” you began softly, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“-Yes, I would love to.”

“What?”

“I would love to be your valentine.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, flattered heat rushing to the surface of your cheeks, but you also looked at him with a slight confusion. He had asked you to be his valentine, hadn’t he?

As you looked at him in slight shock, you noticed the small and meticulously wrapped pink candy bar that sat on his desk. Oh my god, they didn’t, you thought.

You could only imagine the confusion that fell onto Harry’s features as you moved away from him and towards his desk, picking up the candy bar and reading the writing on the wrapper.

To: Mr. Styles

From: Miss Y/L/N

Will you be my valentine?

Oh my god, they did.

“Harry,” you chuckled, looking back towards him and holding the chocolate bar up. “When did you get this?”

“I got it this morning when the kids delivered it,” he said dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t send this.” You walked over to your bag that you had left near the door and retrieved your own matching candy bar. “And I’m assuming you didn’t send this either?”

You handed the pink package to him and he read the label closely, eyebrows furrowing even further, then relaxing as you watched the puzzle fall together in his head as it had in yours.

“The kids sent these to us from each other, didn’t they?”

“I believe they did, Mr. Styles,” you nodded.

His cheeks turned a bright red, embarrassment flooding his features. “I’m sorry about before then,” he stammered out. You watched the panic on his face as he searched for something to say that would cover his tracks, but you cut it off when you connected your lips to his.

His lips were soft and velvety and he tasted exactly like the sweet sugar cookie he had gifted you. Your lips moved gently over each other and you slid your hands up to play with the curls that rested at the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you as his hands found their spot on your hips. You couldn’t help the smiles that fought their way into the kiss and you broke apart moments later, both flushed and flustered, small giggles leaving both of you.

“I would love to be your valentine if you would have me,” you said breathlessly as you looked up to him.

“It’s all I could ask for.”

“This is the best Valentine’s Day ever,” you said softly against his lips, already pulling him back in for more.

“We’re just like the kids in the hallway.”

“They’re not too bad. I understand it now.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! :)

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