#i'm just sad because I could have paid more attention and nothing would have happened

[mangywayway]

I accidentally broke mom's blender that was straight up from the '80s (well, not exactly but I broke 2 parts).

Luckily I found a replacement for the biggest component at 30€ but I'm still afraid as fuck (I also need to hope I got the right one and not a wrong size)

If you never hear of me again, you probably know why

[thelostconsultant]

Puppy love

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: During his karting days, you were one of his opponents, but outside the track he was just a stupid boy who fell in love with a pretty girl. Now, after all those years, you meet again in the paddock, and he doesn't want you to leave.

note: Yes, Jos is an asshole in this (too).

“Have you seen who jumped in to do the interviews?” Charles asked with a wicked smile when he stopped next to his rival after the race. Max hadn’t really paid attention to these details until now, but now that he was informed there was something he should probably know, he looked around to see where the reporter was. “I haven’t talked to her since your dad ruined her career. But she seems truly happy now.”

That’s when his eyes fell on you, the girl who had been haunting him in his dreams for long years, the one who was glowing while talking to the cameraman. He wanted to object, he wanted to say “my dad didn’t ruin her career, she just decided to quit,” but the way you had left certainly hinted at a possible connection between the two events. Because his father’s outburst took place a week before he found out you weren’t coming back to race, and you didn’t even try to contact him ever again. 

What made it real hard was the fact he knew you were left heartbroken, and it wasn’t racing that you missed. His mother called your parents to ask them about you, and they said you had been crying in your room for days, but when the option for a call from Max came up, they were quick to shut it down. They said it would be easier for you to move on if he didn’t show up in your life again, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for everything that happened. 

If he hadn’t fallen in love with you, if he hadn’t met you on a vacation, if his father hadn’t found out he loved someone, maybe you would still be racing. He remembered your bright smile that was present even after a tough race, and your good mood that was often highly contagious. The boys you raced against loved you dearly, mostly because you brought a different energy into their little boys’ club.

“Max, you’re next,” he was told all of a sudden. 

He wasn't ready to face you, but there was no escape. What he had to do now was force a smile on his face and act like he was talking to someone else, someone whose presence didn't affect him half as much as yours did. But the moment he stopped in front of you and noticed a strange glint in your eyes, he had to focus on breathing in and out while you asked your first question.

After the camera was turned off, he cautiously watched you to see if you were planning to approach him, or if you seemed open to the possibility of him doing that. When you looked at him with a smile and said goodbye to the cameraman, he walked over to you with his hand folded behind his back.

“It's nice to see you here,” he said with a small, cautious smile. You nodded, but Max could see behind the cheerful look on your face, he could tell you were tense. “If I'm bothering you, just say it.”

You took a deep breath, and soon your smile changed, and it was now showing a lot more sadness. “It's been a while, that's all. Talking to you in person brings back different memories,” you admitted.

“Good or bad ones?”

Following a shrug, you folded your arms over your chest and looked down at your shoes. “Compared to the ones that come back when I see you or Charles on TV? Bad,” you finally replied. 

Max gulped upon hearing this, feeling guilty despite knowing he had done nothing wrong, that whatever happened back in the day was the result of a series of decisions made by your parents. If it was up to him, he would have kept in touch with you, doing his best to see where this puppy love would lead the two of you. Maybe you would have broken up after he got into F1, maybe you would be married by now. It was a question he had no answer to.

The best he could do now was trying to make you understand this, making you see that he wanted to fix things now, even if you would be nothing more than friends. Sure, he had no idea how much you had changed over the years, but he knew there was only one way to find out. “I know it means very little after all these years, but I’m sorry,” he said to break the deafening silence.

You nodded, then to his surprise, took a step closer to him. “I know it wasn’t your fault. My parents told me what happened exactly eventually.”

He watched you closely, trying to figure out if you were interested in a proper conversation, maybe later in private. But before he could speak up, Charles walked over to the two of you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder with a big smile on his face. “It’s been so long,” he said happily, earning a shy smile and a barely visible shake of your head from you.

Max bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed by the sudden appearance of the Ferrari driver, but the main problem was a vivid memory from his childhood. While him and Charles had gone for blood on the track and didn’t have the best relationship off it either, you and the Monegasque were on very good terms, with you even visiting him and his family in his home. It didn’t bother him until his brain finally caught up with his feelings and he realized he had a crush on you, because then he felt intense jealousy every time his rival laid a finger on you, even if it was nothing more than a friendly pat on the shoulder.

You then suddenly moved to give him a hug, and seeing the way Charles wrapped his arms around you made his blood boil, even if he knew deep down that he had no right to be jealous. But it was painfully obvious that the two of you were talking to each other, keeping your voices down as much as you could in the noise around you, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was all about.

Then he finally let go of you and said goodbye, although the two of you agreed to have dinner in Italy next week to catch up. Max took a deep breath and thought about what to say, but before he could come up with anything, an official came over to drag him to the cooldown room, so all he could do was apologize and say goodbye, wishing he could see you again next week. According to Charles you were supposed to be there in Monza, which meant he would have the chance to talk to you.

To properly talk to you and possibly find out more about your life after you quit racing.

He knew in the cooldown room they were supposed to talk about the race, but all he could think about was asking Charles what you talked about, what was so secretive that no one else could hear it? So, in the end he didn’t say much, he just watched the recap of the race and discussed what he saw if it was standing out. Even while standing on the podium, his eyes scanned the crowd under them, trying to find you as if he was playing Where’s Wally?

On the way home, he spent his time browsing your social media accounts, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had never checked them. On X, you were posting about F1 news, commenting on them as a journalist, while on Instagram you focused on sharing more personal posts, like photos of your holiday, your hobbies, or yourself in the paddock. There had been so many of those, how come he hadn’t met you before?

Having a glimpse into your life felt so nice that he hadn’t realized he had scrolled back a few years. Well, not until it turned out he accidentally liked a few of your old photos. If you hadn’t seen the notifications, he wouldn’t have noticed that. But you saw them and weren’t shy to send him a DM about it.

The next few days passed with him regularly checking his DMs to see if you wrote to him again, if you changed your mind and decided to have dinner with him, but there was nothing, so he was forced to wait for the perfect opportunity to talk to you in the paddock in Italy. How he would find you in the flurry of people was a mystery, although he had a fleeting idea that maybe their PR team could help him get a hold of you. Not like that could work, a request like this would certainly give them a stroke, assuming he was planning to give a random interview.

His heart skipped a beat when he noticed you at the press conference, talking to some of the drivers behind the cameras. Your eyes were shining brightly, your smile lit up the room around you, and Max felt like he had been taken back to his childhood when all the boys at their karting races swarmed around you to get a scrap of your attention. But those were hormone-driven teenagers, while these guys were grown men, many of them in serious relationships, so he knew it wasn’t entirely the same situation.

This time Max made sure he could stick around after the interviews, hoping to get a hold of you once you were done. He approached you after everyone left and you decided to chat with someone from the crew. He cleared his throat nervously, subconsciously expecting you to yell at him, to tell him to leave you alone. But your poker face was perfect, because you turned to him with a kind smile and acted like you were ready to have a pleasant chat with him. The crew member left you alone, so only the two of you were left there. 

“You either don’t understand the word no, or you just learned to completely ignore it because you always get what you want,” you said with a sigh, the smile long gone by now. 

He let the last part of the comment go past his ear, instead he just took a deep breath and began to massage the back of his neck. “Can’t we have a pleasant conversation? Just put everything aside, forget about our shared past, and let’s treat this as a chance for a fresh start.”

You watched him with a thoughtful hum for a while, then nodded. “All right. What would you like to talk about?” you asked with a curious look in your eyes. 

“Us.”

“There’s no such thing as us.”

“Too bad, because that’s exactly what I want,” he was quick to inform you, mentally kicking himself for being this straightforward, even if it was true. Because he wanted to see if you would be interested in the 2.0 version of your relationship, the chance to see how your young love would work out in your adult lives. “Are you seeing anyone?”

For a moment you hesitated, but then you shook your head. “No. I don’t really have the time for that,” you replied honestly. Before Max could speak up again, though, you began to talk once more. “But I’m a reporter here, dating a driver would be… unethical. I can’t play favorites,” you explained. 

Max took a quick look around, then gently placed a hand on your cheek. “We can figure that out later. Let’s focus on step one, which is going on a first date. Tonight? We can turn to room service to help us out if you don’t want to meet somewhere public,” he told you. 

“So you want me all to yourself in your hotel room?” you asked with a teasing smile. 

He was sure as hell he blushed, because the idea of what you were suggesting hadn’t occurred to him. Having you alone in his hotel room wasn’t something he consciously planned out, he only wanted to meet you somewhere away from the curious eyes. “It’s not like that,” he told you defensively. 

“I know, don’t worry. Send me the when and where,” you said as you patted his shoulder. “See you later, Max.”

Nodding, he watched as you walked away from him. He didn’t say a word–no, he couldn’t say a word. His brain was too busy replaying the way his name rolled off your tongue, that sweet, soft tone of your voice as you said goodbye. With his mind still lost in a pink haze, he returned to their motorhome to gather his things and call it a day. He couldn’t wait to meet you, that was all he could focus on. 

A few hours later he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his foot nervously tapping on the floor while he waited. You could be here any minute, and waiting was the worst part. Well, maybe the conversation wouldn’t be that much better, but he could still hope for the best. So when half an hour later there was a knock on his door, his lips curled into a wide smile and he rushed over there to let you in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was held up in the media center,” you apologized the moment the door closed behind you. 

Max had to take a deep breath to calm himself. You being close to him again brought back feelings he thought he had long forgotten, and he wanted to give you a kiss, a soft kiss to test the waters with you. But he had to behave, he had no idea where the two of you were standing right now. “It’s okay, don’t worry. So, dinner?” he asked after a short break, giving you a smile. 

Food seemed to get you in the mood to chat, because as the two of you enjoyed the various dishes he ordered, you started to tell him about your life after everything that had happened back then. You finished high school like a normal kid, went to college to study journalism, and you managed to get jobs at various places that were related to motorsports, especially F1. That was your dream, to once work with this world, but you were quick to clarify knowing he made it here didn’t give you the idea. 

He tried to hide the cocky smirk that wanted to show up on his face, because he was sure what you said weren’t true. A voice in the back of his mind told him you wanted to see him again, that you wanted to get back what had been taken from the two of you all those years ago. After all, why wouldn’t he think that? It didn’t take much convincing to get you to meet him tonight. And if he was delusional? At least it was a nice thought. 

It was then his turn to talk, so he told you stories that you had probably never heard, about himself, about the grid, about everything, really. If you asked questions about his family, you focused on his sister and mother, but you were mostly interested in his cats and hobbies. As you told him, you couldn’t understand how he ended up being such a cat dad, but it certainly suited him. 

“Charles said he doesn’t get murderous thoughts about you several times a day lately,” you suddenly noted with a short laugh. 

Clearing his throat, Max tilted his head to the side. “You talked to him?” he asked casually. 

You nodded and took another bite of your pasta. “Yeah, we had dinner yesterday. I remember how the two of you were back then, I was wondering what the situation was now,” you said with a shrug. 

A wide grin crept on his face upon hearing this. “So you asked him about me.”

“It was just one question, don’t get too cocky,” you pointed out with a roll of your eyes. “But I’m glad you kinda get along now. It’s nice to see that.”

Max flashed a smile at you, then returned his attention to his dinner. For a while you both ate in silence, but then you got rid of the plates and he found himself wondering what to do next. So he just looked down at his hand and moved it closer to yours, letting his little finger brush against yours as if you were back in your teenage years. You let out a laugh when you noticed, and you looked at him with a kind smile. You weren’t as cold as you had been earlier today, now you seemed to have warmed up to him, ready to give him a chance to show you what he wanted. 

So, he took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss you, cautiously moving his lips against yours to make sure he didn’t scare you away. It took you a few seconds, but you eventually eased into the kiss, one of your hands even moving up to his face to keep him close. He couldn’t hold back a quiet chuckle that drew a questioning hum out of you. Max shook his head, then he dived in to kiss you again, but at the same time he let his hand wander under your shirt, even though he could have expected what happened next. 

Because you pulled away and pushed his hand away from your body. “Stop, don’t… I shouldn’t even be here, I should just go, and–”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do this, don’t push me away. I’m sorry. If you want to slow down, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do, okay?” he asked you, his voice desperate. For a minute or two you remained completely silent, you were just watching him with doe eyes, as if you were trying to process what just happened. “Please, just stay,” he said quietly.

You hesitantly took his hand and gulped loudly as you gathered your thoughts. “Listen, it’s complicated. I already told you, I shouldn’t date drivers, but,” you began, but fell silent without finishing the sentence. 

Max cupped your face and rested his forehead against yours. “One step at a time, all right? We’ll figure out if this could even work between us, then we’ll decide how to move on,” he said with a soft smile. When you nodded, he kissed your nose. “Good. Do you want to stay with me and cuddle a little, or would you rather go?”

“We just cuddle, right?” you asked with a thin voice. When he nodded, you let out a soft sigh. “Okay, just for a little while, then I’ll leave.”

But you didn’t leave. The next morning he woke up to you sleeping soundly with your head on his chest, snoring softly while you were lost in your dream world. Max couldn’t stop grinning, he was way too excited and happy to keep a straight face. It felt so nice, so natural, that he wondered how long you would be against it. You clearly wanted this as much as he did, but if you needed time, he was willing to give it to you.

As you lay there, he remembered that vacation all those years ago, when your parents not-so-accidentally bumped into his mom. His first date in a local cinema, watching a movie that was dubbed and neither of you could fully understand it. His first kiss in that movie theater with a girl that was special enough to catch his attention. The way you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder one night when your parents talked a little too long in a restaurant on the beach. 

And he was hell-bent on going back to that town to experience everything again as adults. All he needed was you softening enough to let him take care of you in front of the whole world.

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

[badsweetangel]

Hi! I'm not sure if your requests are open, if not just ignore this. I would like to request a one shot for BBC sherlock holmes x fem!reader in which the reader is feeling a little useless because she is pregnant and the baby is close to being born and because of that she cannot accompany Sherlock on the cases.So Sherlock comforts her by saying that she is very important and that she can help from afar. I don't care if it's a little OOC, I just want some comfort, sorry for the bad English, I'm having to use an AI translator to fix the mistakes, lol

Patience (BBC Sherlock x reader)

Warnings: Sherlock is an idiot, Sherlock and the reader are not a couple. Sherlock being kind in his purest style.

Well, there you were, in your apartment, alone. Thinking about situations that were not good for you and once again blaming yourself. Ever since you found out you were pregnant, your hands shook a little because you didn't know if you were ready for it. Anyway, you knew things would change quite a bit.

You didn't think it would happen so quickly.

You should rest and take care of yourself. And that meant staying home.

And it was too much for you.

Clearly going to Sherlock's investigations would not make you calm. Quite the opposite. You had to be alert, because around every corner there was danger and adding to that, you had to put up with Sherlock's comments all the time. Altering yourself was not an option.

Sherlock didn't listen to anyone, so your early disappearance on cases hadn't mattered too much to him. In a second he had figured it out when he paid attention and then, he changed the subject. He acted as if nothing had happened. You clearly weren't surprised, because well, it was Sherlock. He did those things. His mind was always alert and working, he did not pay attention to the little things that might arise along the way. Besides, those types of interactions bored him.

John, however, went a couple of times. He stayed by your side for a while, asking if you needed anything. Once you cordially denied, he wasn't much more. Clearly he was a good man, but he really had more things to do. And you understood it.

You felt useless and alone. You couldn't help Sherlock and it seemed like that made them forget about you. First, you felt sad. Then offended. Finally, it was anger. Pure anger. You understood that the cases were important, but it didn't cost them anything to go see you for at least one day. Sherlock didn't even send you a congratulations.

Of course, he wasn't that kind of person. But, at least he could have been a little kind. Although, in an instant you knew that he simply wasn't that kind of person. Did you know. Still you went with him.

On a rainy night, you wandered the streets and it was always too cold. You clearly walked with a destination in mind, but you pretended you were just strolling.

You stopped at his door and waited. You felt anger building inside you, for leaving you alone and not even visiting you once.

Although you knew he really didn't have to.

But it's what you wanted me to do.

You felt worthless, because that's how he had made you feel. He hadn't even called you to ask you out of courtesy if you wanted to help him with a case and that made you angry because you hoped he wouldn't just throw you aside.

You waited a long time, they were clearly not there. Neither of them, then footsteps were heard, accelerated steps. Your heart was beating very hard and you prepared yourself for the worst.

Sherlock looked at you, frowned a little, and in an instant, he knew. You knew he knew. He knew you quite well. Anyway, you were pretty transparent.

He opened the door and you both walked in, you followed them. John greeted you warmly.

“Why do you just ignore me?” You asked him, bluntly.

He simply lay down on his couch and closed his eyes. He just kept ignoring you.

“No, you won't” You shouted, walking towards where he was.

“I think you should calm down,” John told you, worried about you.

“You're supposed to care about your friends,” you said, losing control a little.

John shook his head, knowing what was coming.

“I don't have any friends,” Sherlock simply said, without moving a muscle.

You were stunned. He was really an idiot. You knew it, clearly. But, because it was you, you thought it would be different.

You just left. You heard John in the distance, calling you, trying to fix something. But, there wasn't much to do anymore.

When you returned to your apartment, it was sad. You were alone. Furthermore, you knew that he only spoke to you when you were functional. So your self-destructive feelings just increased.

You felt your eyes close as your pillow became wet with your tears.

A lot of time passed. The situation was gradually being left behind. You were understanding many things little by little.

Until one day he appeared at your door.

He had a serious face. He just walked by and you hadn't even let him in.

“I need your opinion on a case,” he said, simply.

"Are you talking seriously?" You said, offended.

He was literally ignoring everything else and it got to you. He didn't even ask for forgiveness, he just came.

"Problem?"

You didn't even move from your spot. He would just talk and tell you details. You weren't very attentive, because you were angry. However, you were able to notice something. What he was asking you was something he probably already knew. There was no way the great Sherlock Holmes was asking something like that. Maybe yes in your best dreams.

You knew it was his way of apologizing.

You approached him, told him what he wanted to hear and there was silence. You didn't want to ask anything.

He was talking and talking, about his deductions and what that he had discovered. Very proud of himself. It's something he liked. He liked to be heard talking.

You didn't say anything, you just nodded.

“Thank you,” Sherlock said, not for your help with the case, but for something else, for the patience he knew he required.

“John wants to see you more often, he's annoying,” Sherlock said.

You smiled. Maybe it was his way of telling you that he wanted to see you and you are important for him.

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 14

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Joel's alarm woke the two of you up the next morning and you let out a big yawn.

"Sorry," he whispered, turning it off before rolling onto his back with his eyes closed. "At least it's Friday."

"Yeah." You agreed, not yet opening your eyes as you pulled the comforter up toward your chin. "I have to be in at ten."

"It's only seven," he said quietly. "Stay in bed."

"You're going in for eight?" You asked him.

"Mmm hmm." Joel let an arm fall lazily over you and you brought his knuckles to your lips. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah." You finally let your eyes open and glanced over at him. "I was overreacting last night.. about the pumpkins."

"No, you weren't."

"I have to admit though," you told him, "I was a little sad to see them all smashed up like that after our contest."

Joel pulled you against his chest and hugged his arms around you. "We could always do a second round of carving. Double or nothing?"

You smiled. He had a way of making things better without even trying. "I guess that means the joke was on them. Because I'd love a repeat of last night."

"Is it too much to ask for your company again tonight?"

"I'm available." You grinned and shared a short series of kisses.

"I have to shower and get into work," Joel told you.

You raised your eyebrows. "Want some company?"

..

"Thanks for covering my shift last night," you said to your coworker, Molly, as the two of you wiped down the handful of tables scattered throughout the coffee shop.

"Oh, no worries," she insisted. "More times than not I'm dying for extra shifts. I take what I can get."

"Well, thank you."

Customers paraded in and out regularly until about noon when things began to slow down for the lunch hour. You were sure it would pick up again around two when people were in need of a mid afternoon pick-me-up.

You cleaned up some more before finally checking your phone. A smile formed on your face when you saw a text from Joel that had come in twenty minutes or so earlier.

'Thanks for washing my back this morning', the text read.

You typed something equally silly and fresh back to him and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

There was another message from a number you didn't recognize that addressed you by your first name and said simply, 'Just taking a chance and reaching out.' You partially assumed it might be Steve and didn't bother replying.

A pair of college-aged guys came in and you quickly shoved the phone back into the apron tied around your waist.

"Can I help you?" You asked the two of them with a smile.

"Umm.." the first guy in line adjusted a backwards hat as his eyes moved back and forth to read the menu board. "I'll have a medium caramel latte and a slice of the lemon bread." He added, "Please."

"You got it." Your eyes drifted toward his friend. "And for you?"

"I'll have large iced coffee with cream and sugar."

"Is that all?"

They both nodded and the first guy handed over a debit card. You completed the transaction and handed it back over. "Your order will be ready in a few minutes"

Molly began to make the latte while you tackled the iced coffee and sliced a piece lemon cake into a small baggie.

"Here you go guys." The two of you glided the beverages across the brown countertop and handed over the pastry. The guys then sat down by a table beside a cork board that full of pinned ads and cards left by local businesses in search of work.

You hadn't paid any attention to it. Not just that day, but really ever. It was just part of the wall that you walked by a hundred times without taking a second look.

But right then, as you glanced toward the two young men, you noticed something on the wall beside them. It was a pinned there to the cork board by a blue push pin.

You felt your breath catch halfway up your trachea and you walked slowly at first and then rushed the rest of the way to make sure you were seeing what you thought you were seeing.

"Hey, are you alright?" Molly asked. Her short, blond curls bounced as she hurried after you.

The customers looked in your direction when you ripped a paper off the wall and held it in front of your face before burying it against your chest.

"What is it?" Your coworker asked.

You shook your head in disbelief and then held out the green flyer in front of you again. As much as you didn't want anyone to see it, you needed someone right then to confide in. As a close, female work friend, Molly filled that void.

"Look at this." You turned it so she could see it as your hands practically shook.

"What the hell is this?" She asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Who put this here?" You asked. "Did anyone come in today and pin something up on that board? Before I got here?"

"I.. I don't know." She shook her head, "I got here right before you did."

"What about last night?"

Molly looked helpless for you and frowned as she continued to shake her head. "I didn't notice anyone in particular over there."

"I need a minute to think." You took a deep breath and wandered into the back by the sinks. From back there you heard one of the guys ask Molly if you were okay.

You hadn't realized you placed the flyer against your chest again until you held it out in front of you again. It was real. So were the images of you and bare-chested Joel, mid-embrace with your lips locked and eyes closed.

Beneath the picture was the caption: Find love at PsychoMeetUp.com. Below that was your name and phone number along with Joel's. Now the random text message made sense.

You knew it in your gut. The night the police came to the house after a phone call. The rustling in the patch of woods by Joel's driveway. The smashed pumpkins. It wasn't all just a coincidence.

You ripped the flyer in half and crumpled it up before throwing it angrily into a green garbage pale.

Vic. You knew it had to be him. He vowed to run you out of town and what better way than to embarrass you in such a way that felt so personal and unredeeming.

Your first thought was to go to the police, but were they even on your side? You had to try. They had to do *something*. And if not, you'd take if a step further and go to the state police. They had no ties to your small town bullshit.

"Go take care of it," Molly told you, scampering around back. "That's so messed up, I'm sorry."

"You'll be okay?"

"Don't worry about me or this place." Molly shooed you with her hands. "Go."

"Thank you, Molly." You hugged her and retrieved your purse before hurrying out the back door.

Once in your car you started typing to Joel, explaining as best as you could about what had happened. You even warned him not to go home. If someone would do this, what else were they capable of?

When he didn't immediately respond you felt your anxiety climb, but you knew he was safe at work with Ronnie for the time being. You kicked yourself for ripping up the piece of paper as you began to drive toward the police station. Still, you could tell them exactly what happened and even have Molly get the torn flyer for you if need be.

Your ringtone came through the speakers and your eyes frantically scanned the center stereo to see if it was Joel. When you saw Jessie's name instead you picked up.

"Hi, Jess." You couldn't hide the tense nature of your voice.

"Whatever you're doing, you need to sit down."

"What?"

"Can you come home? Or can I meet you somewhere? Are you at Joel's or at work?"

"I just left work."

"Okay, I'm coming to you."

"Jess-"

"Someone left something in our mailbox," she said frantically, speaking a mile a minute. "Something I think you need to see right now."

Fuck, you thought and your whole body went numb.

"Tell me it's not the green flyer."

There was a silence on the other end of the line and you knew this was bigger than you originally anticipated.

"I'm on my way to the police station," you told Jessie. "Meet me there."

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 15

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee

[fatuismooches]

Hii smooches!! I’m starting to brain rot for Dottore again and I really love your fragile reader posts and I was wondering, (sorry if you’ve already done this) what will happen if reader’s sickness is getting so bad to the point they start forgetting everything, the segments, dottore, their memories, anything about them. What if one day, Dottore goes to check up on reader and they are just scared because they don’t know why a masked man came in into their room and why are they not at home (just that they forgot what their past home was like too..) What if one by one reader forgot everything about the segments, what would their reactions be? I mean every time they try to make reader remember them, the next day, they forgot about them again. I know this was a little angsty, im sorry 😢

(x, x, x, x) (<- some other writing with fragile reader losing their memory) Hi anon!! I'm really glad you like my posts and I would be happy to elaborate more because, to be honest, I'm eating up the angst right now!

Losing your memory would be gradual, little things at first but no one could have guessed one day you would wake up and not remember anything. Especially you, how could you even fathom the thought of forgetting the people who hold most dear? But it happens anyway one day. Obviously, if you woke up in an unfamiliar place, unsure of who you were, your purpose, your situation, and to top it all off, a tall, masked man who certainly did not look like a normal or friendly person, would make you freak out. You'd try to scope out your surroundings at first, confused as to why there are framed pictures of you with people you don't know (and they all have blue hair for some reason?) Until the door opens and one of the people actually walks in and oh boy he looks a LOT more scary in person.

Dottore would be confused as to why you're slowly backing away from him, and why there is so much fear on your face. What's wrong? You shouldn't be scared of him, you never have been, so why now? But that's until you whimper out the question of who he is, and what he's going to do with you, and if he's going to hurt you, maybe even kill you, or what his intentions and, and, and- as the tears well up in your eyes, Dottore knows he's failed you once again.

I imagine there are times you get so worked up and terrified he has to sedate you so you can calm down. And all he can do is stroke your cheek and promise that everything is going to be okay as you fall back into a slumber, doomed to forget everything once again. Unfortunately, this is the only way for him to make you drink your medicine because obviously, you'd fight to the death before you let a strange man feed you an unknown substance.

Naturally, the segments are similarly upset. They've barely spent any time with you, and now you've forgotten them, as well as everything that makes you [Name]. But they're still going to love you of course. Zandy bawled his eyes out for hours once he found out, he's so sad that the only person who paid attention to him doesn't even remember him or the memories... he shows you the drawings you made with him but you still can't remember... Beta (Webttore) well... honestly it's going to be hard to bond with him because he is outwardly very not so normal... and you don't understand his eccentricity. Alpha (Akademiya segment) lets you play with the Ruin parts you used to love to construct with him, Omega merely tries to talk because every time he tries to touch you, you shy away.

These past four hundred years, the Akademiya days, they mean nothing now. Because you don't remember them. You don't remember him. But that's okay. This is just another obstacle, another problem to overcome. Dottore will make you remember, he swears it, no matter what it takes. And he'll wait for the day that familiar glint returns to your eye, and you're yourself once again.

[reviewinghiccup]

In race to the edge, Astrid is mad at Hiccup for not noticing the courting necklace she’s wearing and says, “ It was like I was invisible to you, do you have any idea how that feels? We’ve known each other our entire lives and I’ve never felt further apart.” Personality I was angry at her and knowing Hiccups guilt complex he probably felt bad through out her talk but I think he should be at the very least upset by her statement on how it feels to be invisible and there childhood relationship(s). What do you think?

HELLO @miky-ikos !

Nice question. Interest take and fair point. I mean, it could feel like she was degrading the basis of their entire relationship. And that wouldn't be fair to Hiccup. I gave the series another watch before I answered you and so, here's what I think:

I don't think I was angry w Astrid for what she did though. To be honest, I think she was (1) manipulated by Snotlout, (2) confused by Mala and Dagur's PDA, (3) stressed about having no alone time to talk things out w Hiccup and (4) having no one to talk to or address her concerns about their relationship in general. I'll address each point in turn.

(1) & (2) HICCSTRID IS THE ONLY SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP WE KNOW OF IN RACE TO THE EDGE.

On Dragon's Edge, Hiccstrid is the only serious relationship. In fact, they might be the only Berkians in their age group to be engaged. So, they have nothing to compare their relationship to.

When Dagur and Mala stopped-by all touchy-touchy, that was uncomfortable for them, because maybe the PDA thing wasn't in their culture/nature to explore. And maybe something she wanted to try.

I mean, this is the first time she sees another couple. She starts to wonder if their relationship is right. Marriage is a huge commitment and if you're as thorough as an Astrid, you want to know what right means.

Then Snotlout taunted them by saying "this is what true love looks like" as if he knows. Yet depsite that, its effective in making Astrid question her relationship and its state.

(3) & (4) THEY HAVE A WORKING RELATIONSHIP & A ROMANTIC ONE

They are also partners in battle as well. That's always been the case. Even when they were friends. And they've been friends for longer than they've been in a relationship.

So often when that happens, the lines between best friend and lover and even co-worker can be blurred and you might find yourself in this hodgepodge state of everything in between and dangerously, nothing at the same time.

They had no time that day to talk. They were constantly interrupted. First by Dagur's best man proposal, then by the Armour Wing, then by Krogan's scouts, then by Krogan himself.

Where communications fail, fights begin. And, I do agree she shouldn't have expected Hiccup to read her mind, but if he had paid attention to her, he would've noticed she was not ok.

I mean, the boy can read her if he paid enough attention, we know that. We've seen it. So, the fact he didn't catch on (to her) meant that he wasn't looking.

He could spot the dragon lens miles away but could not notice the Betrothal necklace in front of him and on her.

Quiet rarely do we see Astrid insecure. We often see Hiccup insecure and needing validation. So maybe, when it happened to her, it came off angry and manipulative, but all she wanted was reassurance that they were the right thing. That she was right for him. Maybe the insecurity ate into what she knew deep down, that he loved her.

I'm sure Hiccup felt bad. You're right, our boy has a guilt complex. And I don't think anyone can hurt him as deeply as Astrid can. But I don't think he was angry or would be angry w Astrid. I don't think he can be. He could be upset by her statement, but more because it made him sad.

Their relationship was more than just something that started as friends. It had mutual respect, courage, time, missions that required them to trust each other on levels no one else had to. She was his support, from day one. Behind him and his idea to save the village from the Red Death to training dragons, to riding Toothless. She even promised to keep Toothless a secret when he asked her to.

Without her, he wouldn't be the Hiccup we know now. She egged him towards his call. And he needed to be there for her, to allay her insecurities as much as she has for him. Relationship is a lot of give and take. We are dealing w humans after all. And just because you think someone knows you love them, doesn't mean you don't have to go around showing it.

Thank you for your question, I hope my answer suffices. And enjoy some clips from the show.

[oscurascout]

Y/N As A Doorman

From That's Not My Neighbor game

Note - The D.D.D agent's name will just be D because I'm too lazy 🤭.

Part 7 (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10)

~•~Hoon's POV~•~

It is weird waking up to the warm feeling of sunlight. Usually, I have to wake up before others since, in a single moment, they could kill me, especially with the situation in the group. I looked out the window and saw the sunrise. I was so happy to finally be with my dear friend. When I was in that place, I was so afraid of those humans in yellow—afraid they would kill me, afraid I would never see my friends again.

I shook my head, getting rid of those thoughts. Then, I heard someone in the kitchen. I listened closely to see who it was. It was Y/N! I quickly ran there to greet my friend before they left for work. I got to the kitchen and saw them preparing their lunch. “Hoon! (Good morning!),” I greeted and hugged them. They yelped, at the sudden affection but hugged back.

Y/N - “Good morning, Hoon. Did you sleep well?”

I nodded, and they smiled. That made my smile grow even bigger. Even though my smile was already big, it became even bigger. They continued making their lunch while I watched. “I need to learn to cook delicious food for them,” I thought. After they finished, I quickly grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and gave it to them.

Y/N - “Thank you. Well, wish me luck. Remember, don't go outside unless you're with D, okay?”

I nodded and hugged them again. They hugged back and left for work. I felt sad now that they were not here. I looked out the window and saw their car slowly becoming smaller as they drove away.

D - *yawning* “Hey, Hoon, good morning.”

I went towards them and hugged them, then I moved away and sat at the counter. While they walk towards the cabinets.

D - *chuckles* “Don't worry, nothing will happen to them. *grabs a pan* What do you want for breakfast?”

I quickly got up and went to the fridge to take out some eggs. Even though I could eat human food, it wasn't good for me. Not only did it slow down my powers, but it also made me really tired so I only ate very little. I gave the eggs to them, and they started cooking. I paid attention to everything they did since I also wanted to cook for everyone.

After breakfast, they went to do some paperwork in their room, and I was left alone again. I looked out the window and saw the neighbor's kids playing in the front yard. “They should be more careful since those creatures are learning how to get into houses,” I thought as I looked around to make sure the kids weren't in danger.

They were so free, laughing and playing, all without knowing the dangers of the world. I wanted to be like that too, able to go with Y/N and help them with their work or just being with them. I noticed their ball landing on the grass in our yard. I wanted to get out and give it to them, but I didn't want to scare the little ones. I saw them retrieve their ball and continue playing.

I moved away and went to D's room. I knocked and entered. I saw them on their computer looking at some documents.

D - *turning to look at Hoon* “Hey, Hoon, what's up?”

I pointed at their window, signaling that I wanted to go out to the backyard. They smiled and nodded. I was happy, and we both went out.

D - “Do you want to play, or what do you want to do?”

I looked around the backyard, which was pretty big. I then saw the hose, quickly turned on the water, grabbed the hose, and pointed it at D, getting them wet.

D - *blocking the water, while laughing* “Hoon! Ha ha, stop! Ha ha!”

They moved towards me, trying to take the hose, but I quickly moved away and started to run around while they tried to take it. We continued playing like that until noon, after which we had to stop since D felt hungry. We had to air dry since we didn't want to get water on the house.

After some time, we were dry enough to enter the house. We quickly took a shower and started preparing lunch. D is a really amazing chef. Even though human food sometimes tastes bland, their food was very good, and I enjoyed eating it. After that, we decided to stay inside, and I went to find something to do.

I looked around the house and found a room where there were a lot of boxes. “Maybe this was Y/N's grandparents' storage room,” I thought as I looked through the boxes, curiosity winning over privacy. I found some cool things such as paint, brushes, canvas, yarn, hooks, knitting tools, a tennis ball, a racket, a baseball, a bat, a glove, a soccer ball, and some gardening equipment. In another box, I found some seeds.

I quickly brought all the boxes to the living room and started looking through them. In other boxes, I found photo albums. I opened them and saw the most precious sight: Y/N as a baby and as a little kid!

I looked through all the albums and was so excited to see more when I heard D approaching.

D - *curious* “Mmm? What do you have there?”

I excitedly showed D what I had found, and we both looked through it. I loved every single photo and tried to read the sentences that were on the back of some photos, though D had to help me with some.

D - *standing up* “Let's continue later; after all, we have to prepare dinner.”

I nodded, and we went to the kitchen. While D cooked, I helped with anything they needed or grabbed anything they were going to use.

After an hour or so, I heard footsteps approaching the front door. “Y/N!” I thought as I quickly went, opened the door, and hugged them.

Y/N - *hugging back* “I'm also happy to see you, Hoon. Did you have a good time?”

I nodded and noticed another presence besides Y/N's. I looked and saw Francis. “Hoon! (Francis!)” I said and went to hug him. Even though we had only had a few interactions, I still considered him my friend.

Francis - *hugging back, a bit surprised* “Mmm, hey buddy, good to see you too.”

I quickly led them both inside and presented them with the food that D had cooked.

D - “Glad to see you're still alive, and you brought a friend. That's good. Come on, let's eat.”

We all sat down and started eating. To be honest, I didn't care if I was branded as a traitor. I would do that again if it meant I would have a new family, one where I'm truly accepted and loved.

[firaloveatea]

I'm sure I forgot stuff but I tried to cover as much about her as possible.

Neon's Character Concept and Bio

Chaos Neon

Age: 18 (pre time skip)/20 (post time skip)

Height: 160cm

Blood Type: TBD

Birthday: 12/12

Affiliation: Straw Hats, Heart Pirates

Hair: Navy Blue, untamed curls/waves

Eye color: Red

Personality:

Growing up with Luffy, she actually has a very similar personality to him, though she has more brain cells and is willing to talk things out rather than fight all the time.

Trusting in an almost blinding fashion and devotion so strong she will put her needs last when her crew needs more attention.

Neon is as socially dumb as Luffy, but does have more common sense. She mostly doesn't understand things around romance, dating, and things of sexual nature besides what she experiences from Sanji and Brooks's preverted habits.

She is also very petty. The price will always be paid, just don't know when or how.

Out of the A.S.L. Neon is more like Sabo, where as Luffy and Ace are more similar. In disagreements it would be Neon & Sabo vs. Ace & Luffy or Ace & Sabo vs Luffy & Neon. It was a blue moon is any other combos happened.

Abilities:

Knife throwing+Accuracy

Neon has learned how to throw knives and works on her accuracy all the time. Yes, she can juggle the knives as well

Flexibility+Balance

Luffy likes to say Neon is part rubber from how flexible she is. She possesses double jointed and trained her body extensively all because as a child Ace and Sabo wanted to see how much she could fold her body in weird and odd ways. She liked the freak out it keeps practicing.

Neon also has amazing natural balance. I haven't figured out the full extend of this balance, but girl is a hard worker and keeps pushing her limits.

Haki

During the two year time skip, Neon learns and masters observation and armament haki.

Weapons:

Throwing Daggers:

Weight: 15.9oz Blade Thickness: 5mm Blade Length: 7-1/2" Blade Steel: 1050 High Carbon Handle Length/Material: 6-1/2" Overall Length: 14" Style: Knife Product Family: Thrower Steel Family: High Carbon Steels

Throwing Knives:

Weight: 6.4oz Blade Thickness: 3.5mm Blade Steel: 1055 Carbon Overall Length: 10" Style: Knife Product Family: Flight Sport Steel Family: High Carbon Steels

A leather whip

Concept History:

Neon originally started off as the Female Main Character for an original fiction work of mine called Neon Red Eyes. It was a Stardust-inspired fantasy world where Neon was the Hybrid Daughter of the terrible Demon King and a Powerful Witch. Her mother would eventually understand why the Demon King sought her out as the mother of his child and fled while heavily pregnant. 18 years later, Neon would come home to their little cabin to find her mother murdered and the King’s right hand waiting for her. She was tossed into the dungeon since emotional distress sealed away her powers the King was after. There, she would meet a Pirate Captain, who had been captured before her. His crew would pull off a heist and rescue their captain, bringing Neon along with them. It was mainly romance focused on Neon and the Captain, who would eventually take down the Demon King, but it never worked that part out.

When I finally caved and started One Piece, I took Neon and added her after making some changes that would make sense to the One Piece world. Having Magic and Demonic powers didn’t. Her being Buggy’s daughter was supposed to be funny and stuck. I wanted her to be Luffy’s childhood friend because that guy needs someone more consistently by his side. As I got further into the show, my inner simp was sad that I hadn’t found my favorite character. No one was tickling my fancy.

Then Trafalgar Law started to show up on my tiktok fyp, but he hadn’t appeared in show for me yet. I speed ran to Sabaody. Now my tiktok had been giving me Japanese dub Wano clips, nothing English dub. I watch dub because I multitask while watching my shows. I got to Sabaody, and I heard him speak. Matt Mercer. Sold. I found my favorite character and wanted to punch Kid in the face.

Now I won’t lie, Neon was meant for Luffy. Childhood friends to lovers cliché since I don’t do it often. But Trafalgar Law took over, Grumpy x Sunshine, Enemies to Lovers, it held more of my favorite troupes. The power dynamics and struggles. Her being bratty and him always wanting his plans to work out. I started my self indulgence dabbles that are now posted.

I do have a Luffy AU in my mind but to post both seems like too much work. There are differences but nothing huge. I could post all of pre-time arcs and then branch off after time skip but I’m not sure about posting both. I will write my Luffy AU dabbles and keep them for myself. Unless my sister and friends talk me into posting like they did with my Dabbles with Law.

Her last name being Chaos is super recent. I had brewed up a Crack AU where Della married Shanks during his year long stay in Windmill village, then stole Ace, Sabo and Luffy from Dadan and Garp wasn’t gonna fight Della.

I called it Chaos House AU, because of the chaos caused by the kids, yes, Uta would have stayed with them becoming Neon’s sister. So five chaotic children being raised by a pirate and a woman who thrives in chaos… the family name for Della and Neon being Chaos fit too well.

[nite-puff]

SCREAMS GROWLS CRIES I heart ishida and alter ego. Considering Kiyotaka and Chihiro are constantly paired up in official art with mondo it's really too bad that there's not many canonical ties between the two of them! I like to fill that gap with ideas as often as possible (and I have MANY of those). To kinda build off your post you just reblogged, I love the idea of this leading into Kiyotaka healing, but I'm also incredibly interested in the complete opposite happening where nothing really changes and Alter Ego is constantly masquerading as Mondo without ever really stopping. Ishida just continues to correct her until the idea of her getting things wrong just feels like a normal process. Even after alter ego dies again and comes back through a different form Ishida lets the cycle continue. I think he would start to view his relationship with the future foundation and the other thh survivors as an "us against them" situation, to the point where things get so bad that he just straight up runs off with Alter Ego entirely. I don't know if the survivors get their memories back but in the case that they do and it requires some kind of treatment, Ishida just lives his life not getting that treatment, and at some point his well of knowledge regarding Mondo is gonna run dry with nothing more to correct Alter Ego with, and it results in her algorithmically replicating a version of Mondo that's so much different than the real one. It's a version of him that is simultaneously flawless but also a complete yes-man to Ishida that agrees with eveything he has to say. And Ishida is going to take that agreement seriously, because to him, Mondo is never wrong about anything. This paired with whatever else Ishida may be doing while the literal apocalypse is going on has SO much potential to me.

(ask is referring to this)

WAIT THIS IS SO INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.

I’m too much of a wuss to deviate from the “Taka gets to heal and eventually learns better ways to cope with Mondo’s death” outcome from Ishida, but there’s also so much room for him to succumb to downfall. (At least, a better downfall than what we actually got.)

The idea of Ishida being so stubborn and so determined to convince himself that Alter Ego Mondo could be like the real one that he never really does have that reality check is so… I don’t know. disturbing and sad? but in the best way. He feels like this computer ai is the only one who really cares about him because everyone else barely paid attention to him after the second trial. So he in turn only cares about alter ego to the point that it’s more self-destructive than it is healing.

And it’s so sad to think about because the good memories Mondo had left behind are now replaced with what Ishida has convinced himself COULD BE Mondo.

Also, depending on when Ishida leaves with Alter Ego, couldn’t that have some real detrimental consequences? Doesn’t Alter Ego play some significant role in the second game? Which then plays some significant role on the rest of the series? I’d imagine that there would be this big search for Ishida in hopes of finding Alter Ego because the the other survivors need her. And the endless possibilities of what Ishida could be doing out on his own and with absolutely nothing left to lose except for the one thing everyone’s trying to take from him.

God, there’s so many thoughts starting to formulate, this is so interesting. For better or for worse, there’s so many directions Ishida could’ve gone in story-wise.

[fangirlstorycreator]

Ooo I have a steamy one for u😏. Kk3 Terry getting into an argument with his gf about the Karate mess he's got himself involved in and she attempts to leave his house. She doesn't make it outta the house because he simply doesn't let her get passed the bedroom door 🤭I so love your writing btw!💚

Thank you so much anon 💚 I'm glad you like my writings 😁 of course I will do this one for you, I hope you enjoy 💚💚💚

Terry had been doing everything he could to please John lately, to the point where he barley even spent any time with you, and you hated it. You were his girlfriend and were also living with him, and yet when he came home from the dojo, he was distant and recently hadn't paid any attention to you. One night when he came home from the dojo, he walked into the room and found you packing an over night bag. "Baby? What the hell are you doing?" "I'm baking a cake Terry, what does it look like! I'm going to spend some time away with my friend in California" "But? But why?" "Do you really just ask me that?"

You zip your bag shut and look straight at him with a frustrated stare. "Its not like you'd notice I was gone anyway would it?" "Now what is that suposed to mean?" "Oh come in Terry! Do I really have to spell it out!? You never spend time with me anymore, you barely talk to me when I try to be around you, all you seem to want to do is be John's little lap dog" "That's not true" "Yes it is! If John says jump, you say how high. I have tried so hard to do what ever I could to make your home life nicer and happier, but you never notice anything I do for you anymore! You told me last week that you were coming home early, so I cooked you a romantic meal. But I had to sit there in the dark with nothing but a measly candle light and 2 cold dinners. And when you did eventually get home, you said nothing to me and went straight to bed. And you wonder why I want to spend some time away from hear?"

His eyes fill with guilt and regret, he looks heartbroken by what his actions have done to you. "Baby, I'm so sorry, I didnt know that you have been-" "You didnt want to know Terry. The only thing that's important in your life is John!" "That's not true!" "Yes it is!.....what happened to the Terry I fell in love with? The man who would ask me how my day was and kisses me when he came home? The man who would know when I'm feeling upset and would instinctively know that all i would want is a cuddle and everything would be fine? I mean, for god sake! We haven't even had sex for over a month! I cant be around the man I love when he barley notices me" The last part you said had you in tears, and Terry looks so hurt that he made you feel like this.

"Baby I love you, and I'm so sorry that I haven't been paying attention to you lately. It's just this thing with John, he needs my help" "John says he needs you....but so do I. Do you know how hard it is? Trying to sleep in bed at night when the man I love is doing everything else he possibly can do, except touch me? All I want is for you to want to be around me Terry. I want you to hold me in your arms, and kiss me, and want to find me attractive. When we used to have sex it made me feel beautiful, loved, wanted. And it was with the only man I have ever loved. And it kills me inside that you dont feel the same" You turn away, grab your bag and try to storm out of the room. But Terry stands infront of the door, stopping you from leaving.

"Baby please, I want to make this right" "Terry move" "No Y/N, I'm so sorry for everything. I love you more than anything in this world and it breaks my heart to know how I have been making you feel. I really am so so sorry. Please let me make this better, please let me show you how much you mean to me, I love you" You were feeling so many emotions all at once, anger, sadness, frustration, love. All you could do was look at Terry with tears in your eyes, not able to answer him, everything was just getting to you. Terry takes a step towards you, holds your face in his hands and wipes away your tears as he looks deeply into your eyes. "I love you Y/N" You had wanted him to be like this with you for so long, and now he understood how you felt.

You missed him so much, you needed him so much. And without saying a word, you lean up and kiss him, with Terry returning your kiss just as much. One of your hands wraps around the back of his shoulder blades and the other is holding his face as the kiss deepens, Terry grabs your hips and picks you up with his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. The kiss you share gets deeper and more heavy, like you both needed to feel eachothers touch, almost like it was oxygen to you. He walks over to the bed and lies down on his back with you straddling his hips on top. You start to grind against his trousers and you could feel how hard he was already, and his hands grab your hips, moving you at a slightly speedier pace against his rock hard bulge.

You start kissing down his neck and leaving little bite marks on soft parts of his skin, making him let out little moans. Then you sit up on top of his lap and pull of your shirt, which makes him do the same. All while watching you like some kind of hypnotic goddess. Without warning, Terry sits up and turns you over onto the bed, letting him be on top of you now. His bare, muscular chest presses against your breasts as he kisses you once again, and you run your finger nails down his back muscles, making him slightly shiver in anticipation. Terry breaks the kiss by looking deep into you eye, then he starts to leave little kisses down your body as he start to move down towards you trouseres. He unzips your jeans zipper with his teeth, and slowly pulls your trouseres and underwear away from you legs. He then lifts one of your legs over his shoulder as he leaves open mouth kisses down the warm inside part of your thigh, all the way down to your sweet spot.

And before you know it, his tounge is making circles around your sensitive clit and he has inserted his finger into you, making you squirm against his touch. You arch your back as the pleasure builds and builds, he is just to good at this. And with in a minute, he has already brought you to climax, making you grab onto the bad sheets for dear life as you let out moan apon moan. As your orgasm slowly goes down, he sits up, looks you in the eye and starts removing his belt. And once the trousers are pulled down, his rock hard and thick cock bounces out of his boxers and slams against his lower stomach muscles. He was so f#cking sexy. He leans down and positions himself between your legs, you can see the lustful hunger in his eyes and he cant control himself.

He thrusts right into you making you gasp and dig your nails into his muscular arms, then he starts grinding his hips and f#cking you mercilessly against the bed. Over and over again he slams into you, making you feel so close already. But then he takes it up a notch. He grabs on of the pillows from the bed, folds it and puts it under your hips, making your pelvis slightly higher. That when he grabs your hips and f#cks you harder than he has before. This angle he has put you in has improved everything, it feels like his is just slamming into your G spot, over and over again. The pressure builds, and once your orgasm finaly hits you, it make you scream out loud, tears run down your face and your legs are uncontrollably shaking from the intensity of this orgasm. Terry also hits his orgasm, but he keeps thrusting into you as your screaming from yours.

Your both slowly coming down from your high, and Terry lies down on top of you, his hips still inbetween your legs and his head resting on your chest, with your heart beat racing. Your both a little breathless and just need a minute. "Terry...that was...." "Incredible" He says back to you. You rest your hand on his head and start stroking his hair and pony tail. "I love you baby, and I promise I will not make you feel alone or unhappy again" "I just want you to spend time with me Terry, and treat John like a friend, not a job" "I will Y/N, I promise. I love you" "I love you too terry"

[myjustice]

she wasn't sure when was the last time he must have been up in the surface & yet here she was raining on his parade. she hated herself sometimes, hated how she couldn't just keep it to herself most of her days, but she was tired of that. she was tired of keeping herself locked away, of being some character that didn't exist, she didn't want to do that anymore, she owed herself that - what almost felt like a privilege - she owed herself that after so long. was it so wrong? was it wrong of her to always feel like she was prepared & ready to burst at the seams? tears, emotions, sadness, she hardly viewed any of those things as weaknesses, was that not part of human nature? to deal & to manage through the experiences of such things? that made her human, that made her real, & by whatever celestial powers out there existed still ... she would not refuse herself of being real. a longing sore & injured deep inside her soul, deep in that bandaged heart of hers longed for that so: i want to be real, i want to be human. it sung & sung to her. it was a part of her that could easily overwhelm her if she paid attention to it properly, but at the moment she could not afford such a luxury. she not the time to dissect it & rip it apart & understand why that longing was deeply embedded into her. perhaps one day ...

she held herself back not out of shame of how she was feeling, but because the last thing she had wished from this encounter was for him to deal with her in such a state. it seemed like no matter her efforts, it was futile, she was going to overflow & he had taken notice which made her want to hide away & apologize. she wasn't sure what she was expecting or if she was expecting anything at all.

it came as a shock to her when he dropped his tea cup, her eyes widened at the very sight of the contents spilling upon her table. she must have caught him by surprise by her reaction & that made her frantic & panicked. she just wasted his tea! ' i-i'm so sorry! ' she apologized amidst her panic, prepared to get on her feet & clean it all up. she really should mind her tongue a bit more, being as blunt as she was just now perhaps that was not her most best approach. but she is frozen in place & her attentions are successfully ripped away from the spilled tea & turned over to him, her expression still as equally shocked & surprised. so ... he can sing then? his singing voice was nothing like how he spoke, she was quick to decide. the words he sang were not beyond her as she understood every word perfectly ... it was a song she had sang before after all. one she liked, one she favored quite dearly. there was a lot of weight to the meaning behind those words even if perhaps at the moment they felt far too light compared to how she felt. furina knew he was merely trying to comfort her & the gesture in itself was appreciated.

' wriothesley ... ' she stared at him in silence after that. her words have seemingly roused something within him to such a degree of strength that he felt compelled to approach her. ' hey, pl-please don't-! ' why was he getting on his knees for?! he didn't have to do that! as flustered she was, evident by the heat on her cheeks, she hardly found the soul in her to insist ... especially when he was opening up to her like this.

right ... there were people, probably who neuvillette had the most faith on, who knew about what happened, about what she had done to prevent them from perishing. it was so odd to hear him say this to her after five hundred years of her keeping it a secret, doing everything in her power to prevent it from coming out & now this was available knowledge to a select few of individuals it seemed.

celebrating a new chance at life? what a perspective that was to have after a flood. she blinked a couple of the tears she felt burning at the corner of her eyes away, her attention his to claim as she listened to what he had to say to her. she would be lying if she said it wasn't hard not to get choked up over him saying that he didn't blame her for anything that had happened & she wanted to believe that, she really did, but she found it so hard to process. she wasn't accusing him of being some snake who made a habit of lying, she hardly believed such foul things about him. his firm hold on her shoulders shocked her system, her eyes widening again. ' human ... ' she murmured to herself. yes, she was only human, & for something she felt like she longed for like a long lost lover she sure had the habit of forgetting it more often than not.

' i ...- ' she breathed out some pitiful laughter at her expense & shook her head. she wanted to protest, but enough, enough for now. he looked like he wanted to cry too & making the duke cry wasn't something furina wanted to do. ' thank you, wriothesley. ' though her smile was small it was sincere. ' your words mean a lot to me. ' they truly did & perhaps she would never be able to properly express that to him. slowly she brought a hand of her own over one of the ones he had upon her shoulder. ' please don't cry. ' he needn't cry over her. ' i'm really sorry for ... being rude just now. saying what i said to you. ' she also owed him another tea. ' i'll make sure to make you some more tea as well. ' he was really looking forward to that after all.

The Duke was blindsided by her sudden confession; everything she had been carrying for so long finally burst through the well-hidden cracks of her soul. His eyes' pupils shrunk at her words, his chest tightened, and the grip in his hand gave way, dropping the teacup and its contents splashed on her table. Wriothesley knew that type of voice all too well: when you're on the verge of a complete breakdown, you choke down your problems to avoid looking weak. But at that moment, even the slightest touch could burst that dam apart.

Despite all the experiences from his life, he had no clue how to console someone he once considered a god. Moving away from the table, he drew near to Furina's side, thinking of offering a hug or a pat on the shoulder, but out of nowhere, a warm feeling in his chest radiated, prompting him to what to do. He cleared his throat and began to sing in the Remurian tongue. Wriothesley's singing was not as rough or deep as his typical speaking voice; it was refined but soft and filled with compassion. "Le monde n'est qu'une scene. Il vaut mieux rire que pleurer, car le rire est le propre de l'homne." He took a breathand then continued, a blush now in his cheeks. "Riez de tout cela, ne vous inquietez pas. Profitons d'aujourd'hui-" A song Furina of all people should know.

"Mistress- I mean. Miss Furina. There hasn't been a second in my life where I felt the slightest bit of resentment for you. My choices were my own; I had the chance to run, to inform the gardes, but instead, I took things into my own hands, and I fully knew what would transpire. But even so, look where it brought me. I serve as the administrator of Meropide, I'm the Duke of Fontaine, I get to help give those in the fortress a second chance. I'm thankful for the life I have and I wouldn't change a single thing." He gets one knee beside her to meet her sapphire hues.

"How could you even think for a moment, let alone say you did nothing for me? You gave up five hundred years of life and freedom, to play the role forced upon you, to save a person like me. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you. At any time you could've called it quits, but you endured to the very end."The duke looks to the side, then back to her, caught up in a bit of emotion himself; never had he shown this side to anyone before.

His voice was a little firmer and more direct, his rough hands grabbing her by the shoulders. "Everyone else is celebrating the new chance at life we've been given. We've laughed off our worries and taken a step forward, but why is it that the person who sacrificed the most has stayed behind and let horrible thoughts bind her and torment her? You're only human, for archon's sake! You did all that was possible."

Wriothesley pauses for a bit. He had lost control. Inching back on his knees, he recomposes himself. She could even see water in his eyes if she looked close enough. "Miss Furina. If you want to cry for days and nights or shout at the top of your lungs, you can. You can let everything out. You're not alone anymore."

[jelonkan]

Open Her Eyes

Pairing: Lady Lesso x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader and Lady Lesso attend the Nevers and Evers ball. The Reader, although she has never paid attention to her appearance, changes her mind for the first time under pressure from Dovey.

Author Note: It's short and very fluff, but I hope you like it.

You've never been a big fan of balls. If you could, you surely wouldn't be there, but being a teacher required your obligatory attendance. '

After two friends, Readers, Sophie and Agatha, with their arrival at school, first completely upset the balance of Good and Evil, and then turned it into something like unity, everyone was relieved that the border was finally over. But before anyone could thank them, they vanished, apparently returning to Gavaldon.

It didn't bother you. Moreover, you were perhaps the most grateful person you could have been for breaking that balance and rules. It finally made you believe that someone you couldn't be with because of these divisions would finally have that chance.

And that someone was the Dean of the School for Evil.

Lady Leanora Lesso for whom you had certain feelings. Being a teacher from the School of Good, you had no chance of getting closer to each other than in the relationship of two teachers.

But at some point, this line that was supposed to separate you, started to blur. You started bumping into each other more and more often. You started talking more and more. You started to think about each other more and more and you got closer to each other. Yet both of you were afraid to take that one big step that would destroy the line between you once and for all.

Until someone did it for you. These two Readers.

But despite this, you haven't seen Lesso in some time. As if she was avoiding you. You were hoping maybe it would be easier now. That now that the division has disappeared, something will finally change between you two, but … nothing like that happened.

Clarissa found you in your room as you sadly sat in front of your mirror and stared at your reflection.

"Y/N, what happened, Dear?" she asked with concern in her voice as she walked over to you. You sighed tiredly, rubbing your face with your hand. "You should be getting ready for the ball."

"I know, but … I don't know if it makes sense for me to go there" you replied quietly, turning your head towards her and looking at her beautiful dress with even more sadness. Clarissa has always been pretty, and has been the true epitome of beauty, grace and fabulousness. Sometimes you wanted to stop, be such a grey mouse and be able to shine like that too.

"What are you talking about? Why do you think so?" She put her hands on your shoulders, frowning in worry.

"I… I…" You started, but you didn't know what you were going to tell her. "I think I like Lesso… " You replied softly, looking down and blushing, fearing the woman's reaction.

"I knew it" she muttered, smiling victoriously as if she had won a bet. You looked at her in surprise.

"You knew it?" you asked surprised, and she nodded her head.

"Come on, it was obvious that you were drawn to each other." She waved her hand dismissively, and you parted your lips even more in surprise. "But that doesn't explain why you don't want to go to the ball."

"Well, I don't think Lesso is reciprocating my feelings. It is possible that what was between us until the balance between Good and Evil was broken is gone. She hasn't wanted to talk to me for a few days. I think … I'm not enough for her " you replied sadly, and tears of failure gathered in your eyes. You felt bad. You felt rejected and your heart was broken by Leanora's ignorance.

"Don't you even dare say that!" Dovey snarled quickly, immediately hugging you to her. Her sweet scent, although completely different from Lesso's, allowed you to calm down a bit. "Lesso just needs to open her eyes. And I think I have some idea how to do that" she said, and a sly smirk appeared on her lips.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You felt your nerves grow more with each passing second. The dress, white in a shimmering rainbow glow, trailed behind you with a grace that no one had ever seen in you. Your hair was pulled up in a bun from which a few strands had leaked out. Clarissa even gave you a beautiful make-up that emphasized all your face qualities. When you looked in the mirror, you couldn't recognize yourself. You looked like a real princess. You couldn't believe it.

You were the last to enter the ballroom late, as Clarissa had ordered you to enter. You didn't want to do it at first because you knew it might be too much, but Dovey was very insistent, so you gave up on her again.

When the door opened and all eyes landed on you, you felt that in a moment you would not stop and run away from here. But the moment you saw Dovey smiling at you, and then Lady Lesso standing next to her, her mouth parted, you felt certainty.

Your eyes met and you followed Clarissa's advice and smiled softly. You walked slowly through the room, as if nothing, focusing only on the redhead, who was staring at you in shock.

Clarissa was holding back a laugh along with Anemone as they saw Lesso's face and when her cane slip out of her hand and fall to the ground. Everyone in the room was silent as you gracefully approached her and nodded gently, as befits a princess.

"Lady Lesso, would you like to dance with me?" you asked calmly, still smiling slightly. The woman didn't answer you anything. It was only when an amused Clarissa nudged her side that she seemed to return to the ground.

"O-Of course" she replied quickly and held out a hand that you accepted with satisfaction. She led you to the center of the room, never taking her eyes off you as she was slowly getting used to you. The music started playing and you both started dancing along with the other couples. "Whose idea was that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she turned you around and your dress swirled beautifully around you.

"It was Clarissa's idea, do you like it?" you asked hesitantly, well aware that your confidence was gone, but Lesso had regained it.

"You'll have to apologize to Clarissa because I'm going to rip that dress off you tonight, My Love" she replied, whispering in your ear and sending shivers down your spine.

"You'll have to make it up to me for this waiting" you said, turning your back to her and letting her hands wrap around your waist. Her lips landed on your neck leaving a soft kiss there. You sighed softly, at which she smiled devilishly.

"Don't worry, I'll do it."

[sexydreamgirl]

what did you do to perfect your sc so fast omg??

Okay so here’s the highly anticipated explanation of how I, Hera Huxtable, acquired my self concept within 24 hours. It’s a bit of a personal story tied with past association so if you’ve followed me for some time you’ve likely heard of these two and I swear they’re both relevant to my self concept story. I've never explained it to this extent though.

To vaguely discuss the past association I connected this instance of acquiring my self concept to the time I decided I was that bitch out of the blue and persisted in that assumption (I can tell you wholeheartedly that this is the reason why I have never struggled with being insecure physically) but I'll talk a little more about this later.

Moving onto the personal story I discovered the law of assumption around late July/early August right and I kinda sorta knew about the God thing but hadn’t really dived deep into it. This also came to be around the time my best friend and I came to the decision to no longer be friends. When we split I took it quite hard and I made the decision to give myself 24 hours to cry it out be sad about it and move on (it ended up happening within 5 hours by the way) which was a new thing for me because this was way back when I repulsively resonated with the cancer sun title (being an emotional crybaby). And you know what happened when I established that time limit for myself? I snapped. For the first time I simply decided, “you know what? I’m not gonna let myself feel miserable over this any longer and nothing is gonna make me feel this shitty ever again” and with that decision also came “I'm done being a whiny ass victim and I'm done being someone I don't wanna be”. That same week was when I immersed myself in the law of assumption and started learning more by reading Neville’s lectures and like I said I was still relatively new to the God thing and I didn’t know how literal it was, I just knew you could manifest absolutely anything and with that knowledge my peace of mind grew. It was very comforting knowing that I could always get my best friend back if I ever wanted to, which sped up the healing process and I also mentioned that as my self concept increased more and more by the day I eventually lost absolute interest in getting them back and I moved on completely. That same week I also learned about EIYPO and had to come to terms that it was my fault and I was the one who manifested us not being friends anymore all the while it made little to no sense to me because WHY would I want to not have my best friend anymore? But it didn’t matter whether it made sense or not I held myself accountable for it and accepted that I was the root of the issue and the fact that I could also undo it made it less of a big deal to me so it was like ok fine I did it whatever. (You’ll see why I mentioned this bit as well shortly)

That day I decided I had enough of the victim mentality and because of that I have never dealt with spirals, impatience, insecurities or any of that unfavorable stuff. It was just like “yeah I'm that bitch and I always get what I want idc about anything else I'm not accepting shit I don’t want and don’t deserve from here on out”. And of course there were instances that challenged my self concept but I knew better than to let anything from the 3D matter or define me which goes back to that whole confidence angle I mentioned at the beginning because listen I had people that had something to say about my confidence but I never cared and never paid attention so that’s why self concept is so reminiscent of how I picked up my confidence, it was just deciding, persisting and placing myself on a pedestal. You focus on the new version of you that you want to be and you turn your attention away from everything that dares challenge or question that.

If you ever spiral after reading this, I advise you to try a similar approach to my story. Take advantage of all the intense emotions that you’re feeling, decide that it's the last time you will ever feel that way and use it as motivation to sever ties with that old you. See that person spiraling as an image of self that you’ve had enough of. Decide that you will no longer identify with that non serving version of yourself that is quite literally interfering with the version of you that CAN get what they want. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: it always starts with you. You have to be the one to put your foot down and finally decide to stop yourself from continuing to be the source of your own sabotage because there will never be anyone to blame and there will never be anyone to change but self. For once you just need to hold yourself accountable no matter how uncomfortable it may feel because at the end of the day this is something you’re doing for YOURSELF and no one else. Remember that before you make the decision to wallow in the victim mentality once more, my love. I know it can be mildly uncomfortable territory to call yourself out like that especially when you're accustomed to comforting yourself by thinking that the world is the problem instead of you but I promise you that when you choose to make that decision for yourself, you will look back and wonder why you didn't do it sooner. It's one of the best decisions I have ever made for myself and I can assure you it will most definitely be the same for you too ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

[natsglorifiedsimp]

"Is it because I'm adopted?"

A/N: One of my readers asked if I could do a sad ending so here we are. It's just the same storyline I just went and cut it to the intense part.

Summary: Natasha adopted you when you were six months old. But what happens when she gave birth to her biological daughter.

This one is the original story with a happy ending

Laying at night you couldn't sleep. You felt invisible and questioned if Nat would notice if you were gone.

Shaking off this thought you stood up and went to the kitchen to find milk to help you sleep but you were stopped midway when you heard distant chattering.

"You have to tell her Nat." Bucky said.

"Yes, I will. But this is not the right time." Your mother replied warily.

"This is the right time Tasha. You can't wait until she found out to someone else that she's adopted."

You froze on your spot. Suddenly forgetting how to move. That one word repeating on your mind.

Adopted

You were adopted

All of a sudden everything makes sense. That's why you didn't have your mother's eyes or red hair. You didn't have any feature that was similar to hers.

That's why your friends always wonder why you didn't have the same replica of your sister.

That's why she paid more attention to Elena because she was her real daughter. Not you.

You felt numb you didn't know what to do. Your eyes crying uncontrollably you tried to push your feelings and go to your room and act as if nothing happened but when you removed your hands that muffled your sob you accidentally hit the flower vase that was on top of a side table.

The sound made Natasha and Bucky look to where it came from. The three of you made eye contact they could tell that you heard everything because you were sobbing. Tears fall like a stream of waterfalls.

Seeing that you were caught you immediately run-up to your room and locked the door.

"Y/n-" Natasha tried to call out for you but you were already upstairs.

The couple looked at each other with startled faces. You weren't supposed to know that way. They got a plan to explain it to you properly and say that it wouldn't make a difference.

However, you already felt different. You're not her daughter. You don't belong here. Your mom never loved you. That's the thought that is running through your head.

Quickly Natasha followed you and tried to open your door but you locked it. Getting a hairpin she pick locked your door. She knew she unlocked it but never opened it without knocking.

"Honey let's talk." She said trying to hide the nervousness that was laced in her voice.

"Leave me alone." You choked.

"Baby I'm going to open the door." She still informed you that she was going in. Opening the door she saw you there crying, your hair a mess and your body trembling.

"Is that why you don't love me?" You manage to ask in between sobs.

"Baby where is that coming from?" Natasha asked you confused. She didn't know why you would ask that.

"Is that why you won't pay attention to me? Scold me. Accused me? Is that why?" You asked again.

"Wha-"

"Is it because I'm adopted? Is it because I'm not your real daughter that's why you love Elena more?" Your voice was quivering all the thoughts you had in your head you questioned it to your mom.

"No baby that's not what this is."

"This is what this is!" You raised your voice making Natasha flinch.

"Baby calm down. You're gonna wake Elena up" She tried to soothe you. But that was the wrong choice of words because it made you more angry and sad.

"It's always Elena, isn't it? No matter what I do you'll always choose Elena."

"No-"

"Why did you even adopt me? I guess I'm just some sort of your trial and error. Your practice run. The thing that you can always throw when you lost interest." You cut her off . Your voice is now hoarse from shouting each word.

"Baby no-" she was cut off again but not by you it was by Elena's muffled wailing. Turns out she's right you did wake Elena up. She hesitantly looked at your door and to you.

She didn't really wanna leave you in your room with you crying. She hated when you cried especially because it was because of her. She actually looked at your door to see if Bucky did something to Elena so you both can talk more. But you made a different impression.

"Go on comfort your daughter she needs you right now." You said this time more of a whisper. You ushered her out the door but she didn't move so you pushed her instead.

Before she could protest you already closed your door. Deciding its best for you to calm down Natasha settled on talking to you early in the morning.

You however got different plans. You quickly took everything essential and put it in your bag. After that, you snuck out the window and run as fast as you can running where your feet lead you.

Unshed tears were blurring your eyes so you tried to shake off your head and closed your eyes to clear your vision.

What you didn't know was that you were running on a highway and there weren't any cars passing by the area cause it was the middle of the night. Yet a drunk driver was driving over the speed limit. You didn't notice that cause you were still rubbing your eyes.

Adjusting your vision you saw the car almost running over you. You tried to move but it already hit you send you flying over the sidewalk.

The drunk driver didn't even notice that he hit something. He thought it was a bump and carried on.

You however were heaving trying to catch a breath but it was too constricted. You couldn't see anything it was all black but you felt like you were spinning. Everything was so much in pain. Every bone every muscle every part of your body was in pain. You couldn't bear it so you rest.

**

Natasha woke up early in the morning and immediately went to your room. When she opened the door she saw that it was empty all your favorite stuff was gone. But she tried to not think about the inevitable that you snuck out and so she looked for you around the house.

"Bucky have you seen y/n?" She asks worriedly.

"Not till last night. Why?"

Natasha didn't waste a moment and respond to Bucky. She immediately went outside and run around looking for you. You were still eight you wouldn't go somewhere you weren't familiar with.

Sun was just rising and not many people were around. So she continued calling out your name. When she was closed to the highway she saw your things spread out in the middle of the road.

Natasha was now nervous, her heart beating fast she thought you got kidnapped but when she got closer she saw your body on the sidewalk.

Running to where you were she saw your limp body. Blood still oozing to your head, most of your body broken.

Natasha gasped running to your side.

"Y/n! Wake up!" Natasha quivered.

Seeing your state she knew you were gone. She knew you wouldn't get up but she still hoped that you would open your eyes that it was some sort of a joke. She hoped that she was dreaming.

Panicking she called Bucky. Natasha didn't explain she only said to come to her. Without question, Bucky quickly went to where you and Natasha were. When he saw you he almost fainted. Bucky immediately called the hospital but he knew that it was useless he knew you were dead. They both knew.

Natasha was still shaking you. Calling out your name like a prayer.

"Y/n/n please wake up"

"Baby I love you"

"I'm sorry"

Those were the words she wanted to tell you yesterday. She wanted to tell you that she loved you so much that she loved you like you were her real daughter. That she was happy to take care of you, to see you grow up. She wanted to apologize for making you feel neglected for making you feel that she never loved you but she could never do that anymore you were gone.

Desperate she tried one last time.

"Honey please wake up. I love you."

Taglist:

@diaryoflife

[multi-writer]

hi! love ur writing :) i was just wondering if there will be a sequel to this like how steve living his life now that shes gone? thankyou sending lots of love xx

Dancing with your ghost (Tolerate It Pt. 3)

Steve Harrington x Reader - Angst

Pt. 1: Tolerate it

Pt. 2: “So Close”

Summary: After your death Steve tried to continue with his life, but it is very difficult considering that everything reminds him of you and he cannot stop visiting you.

A/N: I'm finally back, and with angst because I like to cry for fictional characters lol. I've been late because I might also do a version with a happy ending (and because, if you haven't noticed, I do this kind of fics based on songs I love and I think it would fit with what's happening in the fic, but I´m also spending hours listening and remembering the lyrics to make it perfect). Thanks for the request!

Based on: Dancing with your Ghost - Sasha Alex Sloan

Warning: Main character death, angst, sadness

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yellin´ at the sky

Screamin at the world

Baby, why´d you go away?

Steve's footsteps were all that could be heard against the pavement, the loneliness he found himself in was the best company he could count on, a small bouquet of white flowers remained in his hand as he walked up the hill.

It has been weeks since you left, Steve's eyes still filled with tears as he remembers holding you in his arms as he slowly carried you out of the house, the heavy breathing of the boys could be contrasted with the sobbing of the girls. Every night Steve remembers your mother's screams as she held you in her arms trying to wake her little girl, your father holding Steve tightly as he shook him.

How could he not save his daughter?

Steve also asked himself the same question every day, maybe if he had paid more attention he would have seen the signs, maybe if he had stopped to talk to you he could have saved you, maybe…

The man shook his head trying to push those thoughts away. Robin had said that it wasn't healthy, that it would only hurt him even more. She was the only one who had visited Steve after what had happened.

Arriving at the place he was looking for, Steve just sat down on the grass and passed the flowers from one hand to the other trying to control his anxiety, ran his tongue over his dry lips and began to speak.

Never got the chance

To say a last goodbye

I gotta move on

But it hurts to try

The words came naturally from the man's lips, even in these moments you had the gift that let Steve open his soul and tell you everything he was thinking and feeling.

"Sorry I'm late, I've been helping the town with donations, there are still many missing but no one has given up on finding them yet, there is still hope" Steve commented as a greeting.

"You know? Max still cries for you, she can't help but feel guilty even when the guys already told her it was your decision..." The man's brown eyes became crystalline as he took a ragged breath. "She lost a sibling again after all."

Steve ran his hand over his face trying to wipe away the drops falling from his eyes, the scent of flowers permeating between his fingers.

"Every night I listen to the cassettes you left at my house the last time you went over. I can't help but think that if I listen to them long enough you're going to walk in the door like nothing happened" A quiet chuckle comes from the man as he hears his thoughts coming to life through his voice.

You weren't coming back.

"Robin and Vicky are finally dating, Rob says they are just friends but you and I know better, when something happens I promise to come and tell you" Steve smiled at the thought of how much you would love to hear all about the girls. "Your parents are moving out of Hawkins, they can't bear the thought of being here without their daughter...I can't be without you either" He commented as his smile faded and sobs replaced his laughter.

Steve brought his hand back up to his face and hid your mouth behind it in a sad attempt to quiet his moans.

How do I love, how do I love again?

How do I trust, how do I trust again?

"I miss you so much (y/n), there isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss everything about you, everywhere I turn I can see you, I can't be at home without thinking of you, I can't be with the kids without breaking down in tears remembering you with them, I swear I try to live but you left an imprint on my life impossible to erase" The man took a big breath of air and continued. "Why did you do it? Why didn't you tell us? We would have come up with a plan, I would have stayed with you to protect you, I would have run faster to be with you, to save you..."

The man's sobs were impossible to hide. Steve had been through so much these past few years and could not take it anymore, he too has suffered for a long time and had finally reached a limit. After all he is human too.

"How much I would give for you to be here, to exchange your place, to hug you one more time, to kiss you one more time" commented Steve in a low voice while he looked at his hands, in one of them were the white flowers he had brought, without more to say he put them in front of the tombstone with your name together with the ones he had brought a few days ago and stood up while he put his trembling hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"I promise not to take long to visit you again, I'll come as fast as I can, okay? Don't forget that I love you, I never stopped loving you. I'll try to bring the cassettes so we can listen to them together" Steve took one of his hands to bring it to his lips and leave a small kiss and then put his hand gently on the tombstone. "I miss you so much (y/n)" The man mumbled like a little kid, then turned around and walked back to his car with pain in his heart.

I put the record on

Wait ´til I hear our song

Every night I´m dancing

With your ghost

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A/N: Well, I tried to stick with the ask as much as I could, more than anything I wanted to emphasize that Steve has been through a lot and that it is necessary for him to get everything out. it's something you don't see in the series and it's necessary to remember. It's small but I think it's what Steve would do.

I hope you like it and I'll try not to disappear so much, college is consuming my life lol.

tags: @lettyshush@ilovetaylorswift1@hcloangcls@obsessed-with-a-fictional-man