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lovebugism · 2 years ago

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Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure <3

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You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended.

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day.

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.)

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of.

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes.

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade.

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour.

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high.

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part.

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that.

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater.

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start.

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer.

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right?

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his.

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night.

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth.

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust.

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson x reader #st oneshots <3 #published by bug

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dsireland86 · 1 month ago

Note

I have a very smutty request 🫣

Noah X Reader - they're best friends who tell each other everything. One night they're talking and she mentions whenever a guy gives her oral she can't finish. She doesn't know if the problem is her or the guys she's been with. Noah being a huge munch and helpful friend is like "let's find out" 😏

Oohhhh goodness me...... okay, here we go....

Author's note: Stupid Tumblr app screwed my draft this morning and I ended up posting this one without it being finished. To all you who liked it without it being finished... I freaking love you. To the Anon who requested this story and saw the first post.... blame tumblr! Here's the right post! I hope you like it :)

Let's Find Out 18+ below the cut

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @thefallenangel @fadingintothegrey

"Come on, y/n, you can tell me. We always tell each other everything." "No, you always tell me everything because you have no filter, Noah. I don't always tell you everything."

Noah sat next to you on the couch in your apartment, thinking and realizing after a moment how right you actually were.

"Ok, well, that's besides the point. Whatever it is, has got you all riled up. So, what is it?"

You were about to tell Noah, feeling bold enough to, but when you went to open your mouth, you couldn't, instead hiding your face in a pillow.

"I'm afraid to. I'm scared of what you'll think."

Noah was silent. Slowly, you pulled your face away from the pillow to look at him. He was staring at you with an amused look on his face.

"What?"

Noah scooted closer, turning his body to face you.

"It has something to do with sex, doesn't it?"

"Oh my god, Noah," you squealed, throwing the pillow at him.

Noah's laughter filled the room.

"It does! I knew it."

You folded your arms over your chest, pouting, while Noah gloated.

"Oh, come on, y/n lighten up. It's not like we're kids. We're grown adults."

Noah rubbed your arm, running a finger down your cheek, but instantly noticing your sadness.

"Hey, what is it? Come on, tell me. I don't like seeing you upset."

One look at Noah and those sweet, sympathetic eyes of his convinced you.

"Okay, fine, but promise me, please, that you won't think differently of me when I tell you."

Noah grinned but silently nodded.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a minute to process where to start.

"Okay, so you've had sex before, and so have I. Have you ever, you know," you trailed off to stare at your fingers.

"Have I ever what?" Noah asked, confused.

You ran your hands down your face, frustrated.

"Fuck it. Have you ever made a girl cum just from going down on her?"

You could feel the heat wash over your cheeks, as you watched Noah's eyes widen in surprise.

"Wow! That is not at all where I saw this conversation going," he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"See, I knew it! I shouldn't have said anything." You jumped up off the couch, ready to run and hide from the embarrassment.

"No, no, no, wait," Noah jumped up after you, grabbing you by the arm.

"It's not like that. That's not what I meant."

You refused to look up at him because of your embarrassment.

"I just meant that, well sex has never been a topic of conversation for us. I never thought you'd be coming to me for advice. That's all."

You raised your eyes, meeting Noah's. They were soft and full of sweetness, promising he was trying to be gentle with you.

"But yes," he answered quietly. "I have made a girl cum just by going down on her."

The air around you two suddenly shifted, the dynamic going from calm and collective to hot and a little nerve-wracking. You cleared your throat, swallowing hard when Noah moved closer to you in a way that he'd never had before.

"And I love it. I'm gonna be honest with you because you're my best friend, y/n.”

You looked up at him finally, noticing how dark his eyes had suddenly gotten.

"Honest? About what?"

Noah smiled gently.

"I love eating a girl out."

It was your turn for your eyes to widen now.

"That was a little too much information, Noah," you huffed a light laugh.

"You asked."

"Yes, I did. Anyway," you continued, taking a step back to create some space between the two of you.

The dampness between your thighs and the tight clenching of your sex made your heart start to race. Your panties were soaked, something that had never happened around Noah before. But because of the topic of conversation and the way he was looking at you, something between the two of you had quickly changed.

Noah was hot as fuck and everything about him drove you crazy, sexually. But he was your best friend and you were his. There was no way he felt the same about you.

"Okay, so, anyway, was it difficult for you? Getting her to cum?"

Your voice was shaky, giving away just how nervous you were to be having this conversation with Noah.

"No, it wasn't. When you know what you're doing, it's quite easy, actually. You just have to find that right spot on her pussy, right between her clit and her entrance; rub that while using a mix of your tongue and finger, and bam, you have her."

Noah smirked, arching a sly brow and watching the way you responded to his words. Your body was tense, and your palms were sweating. What the fuck was happening to you. It was just Noah.

"Why are you asking me this, y/n?" Noah narrowed his eyes.

"I um, I," you were nervous as fuck. Noah had somehow gotten under your skin with his teaching and all you could think about was his tongue and long, tattooed finger doing the same thing to you.

"I've never finished when a guy has gone down on me, and I, shit... I don't know if it's me or them."

You let out a long breath.

"Wait, what? Are you being serious?"

You nodded.

Noah's face went deadpanned, blinking a few times.

"Soooo, you've had sex before, just the clown you slept with never made sure you finished before him?"

You nodded again, unable to look Noah in the eyes.

"Fuck, y/n. That's heavy. How is that even possible?"

You shrugged.

"It has to be a them issue, not you."

You raised your head, checking to see if Noah was joking. But he wasn't smiling; he was serious.

"Why? What makes you think it's their fault and not mine. What if I'm the problem?"

"Wow, okay," Noah said, taking you by the shoulders. "You are definitely not the problem, y/n, trust me. It is a hell of a lot harder for a girl to have an orgasm than it is for a guy, oka? Plus, you're beautiful. Any guy that’s with you should want to make you happy first.”

You were so consumed with embarrassment that you didn't notice how close Noah was. He was only a few inches away from where you could smell his cologne mixed with the warmth of his body heat. You sucked in a breath as he cupped your face, bringing you closer together.

"How can you be so sure, Noah?" Your voice barely above a whisper. "Unless you're willing to test that theory, I've got nothing else to base your claims on."

Noah's lips were just a few inches from yours.

"Then let's find out."

"What?"

"Let me test my theory. Let me go down on you. I know I can make you cum."

You felt the light brush of his lips against yours as you took slow shallow breaths.

"Noah, I can't. If we do that,"

"Then we can't go back to how things are the way they are between us right now?"

"Exactly," you told him.

"Good, cause I don't want them to. I want more," he confesses. “I want more of us, not just as friends, but together.

A small smile spread over your face. “Me too.”

"Then let’s find out. Let me make you cum the way you deserve to."

Your best friend, the one who had been there for you through two break-ups and the death of your cat, gently laid his lips on yours. At first, it shocked you, knocking you back a little from the sheer force of his greediness, but the moment Noah pulled away, leaning back to look at you, you knew that you didn't want to be "just friends with him anymore".

"Okay."

A lopsided grin swept quickly over Noah's mouth before he carefully led you back over to the couch.

"Sit," he ordered, and you did, looking up at him.

You didn't know what to do with your hands or how you should keep your legs. The once neutral feelings and normalcy were no longer between you and him, replaced only by fear of what to expect running through your nervous system.

Noah removed his shirt before dropping to his knees. Yeah, you've seen him shirtless before, but the circumstances were completely different. This time, it was because he wanted to fuck you, not because he was hot.

"First, you need to relax, okay? You won't be able to reach your climax if you're anxious and tense, okay?"

You nodded.

Noah leaned over and kissed you again, making your insides flutter. As he looked down, you watched his eyes trail over your lower body, slightly licking his lips.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this y/n."

Your forehead puckered.

"Really?"

"Hmm, really," Noah confessed, giving you a confident smile.

His fingers found the waistband of your leggings, and he slowly slipped them under."

"Can I?"

His respect for you made you grin.

" Yeah, you can," laughing lightly.

Like a kid on his birthday, Noah slipped your leggings down as you raised your bottom so he could slide them all the way off. He stared at your middle, eyes darting everywhere.

"Secondly, one way to stimulate yourself is to watch."

"Watch," you lightly croaked, swallowing and licking your dry lips.

"Uh-huh, watch. Watch as I eat you out," Noah confidently smiled at you.

"Watch as Ienjoy the taste of you, how I dive between your folds and licks every part of you. Watch as I slide a finger or two up inside you, trying to tear down your inner walls."

Pulling you closer to the edge of the couch, Noah ran his hands slowly up your thighs, leaning down to kiss them. The feeling made you gasp, and you felt his warm breath spill over your skin from his chuckle.

"Has anyone kissed your thighs before?"

"No."

"Shame on them. Such pretty thighs. I'm glad I'm the first, though."

His touch aroused every feeling for him you had suppressed all this time. Your skin prickled, sending shockwaves of a tingling sensation straight to your pussy. You were so wet, the dampness in your underwear proof of how much Noah was turning you on.

Parting your thighs, Noah sunk down and ran his tongue over the skin of your inner thigh. Your body twitched, hands digging into the couch cushion.

"Mmm, your skin is so soft and warm, baby," he praised.

Looking up at you, Noah paused.

"You good?"

You nodded, but really, you weren't. You were wound up so tight, your pussy so stimulated, that you were on the brink of tears.

"Tell me if you're not, promise?"

"Promise." Your jaw was clenched out of pure desperation to feel Noah go further.

Hooking his fingers around your panties, Noah looked up once more and your eyes locked as he slid your panties off. You quickly closed your legs so he couldn't see.

"Relax," Noah said gently, kissing your knees. "We can stop if you want to."

"No, don't stop. I just, it's just weird to know that after all of this time together as friends, we're actually doing this."

" Y/N, we're still going to be friends. Just with benefits and more."

You nodded, relaxing your legs.

Noah parted them, sighing a low "fuck" as his eyes beheld your treasure.

Your pussy was thriving. It was the perfect shade of pink, glistening with your pre-cum that Noah could wait to taste.

"Oh god," he groaned, pulling you all the way to the edge of the couch.

"Thirdly, you have to help me make you cum too."

"How?"

Noah couldn't take his eyes off your pussy. If you didn't know any better, you'd swear he was drooling. You cupped his face, lifting it so you could look at him.

"How do I help you, Noah?"

"Your hands," he stammered, "use them. And your thighs. Please, fucking use your thighs to hold me against you when you do cum."

You were so fucking turned on you didn't even think of how wrong this all was, what Noah was about to do. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered, not even the others who had failed in fully fulfilling you. You knew Noah would.

His fingers lightly touched you, like the feeling of a feather. You sucked in a breath, holding it as you kept your eyes on what he was doing. Taking his thumb, Noah found the spot right around your clit area and applied the right amount of pressure, slowly creating circles causing your entire body to ignite.

"Right there?"

"Mmmhmm, yeah, right there," I gasped.

The tip of his tongue protruded through his lips as Noah gently worked your clit, but pulled away after a few seconds. He trailed his fingers through your folds, smearing your wetness, that he caused, all over you, before easing one finger, knuckle deep, inside your entrance. You rutted against him a little, pulling a nice little chuckle from him.

"Noah," you gasped, throwing your head back from the stimulation he was showing your sex.

"Oh fuck yeah, y/n, it was defiantly a them problem. Look at you baby, look how fucking wet you are for me."

Noah pulled his finger out and showed you how wet his finger was. It glistened with your juice. Noah slipped the finger in his mouth, making you whimper.

"God, you taste so sweet." He looked at you, watching him lick you off his finger, lighting the fire deep in your abdomen.

"You like watching me, don't you? It gives you those right kinds of feelings right here, doesn't it?" Noah slipped not one but two fingers inside you, causing you to sit up. The new angle allowed him to go further in you.

"Fuck, Noah," your cry turning into a moan.

"Oh god yeah, there's your spot."

"Noah," you whine, your fingernails digging into his bare shoulders.

"Yeah baby?"

"Make me cum for you," you pleaded, watching the look of pure lust rush over his dark eyes.

Noah lifted your legs, causing you to lean back on the heels of your hands, throwing each one on his shoulders and spreading you open like his favorite book. He locked his arms around them, which allowed his fingers to work the top part of your pussy while his mouth took care of the bottom.

Without a word, he pulled your folds back and ran his tongue up your slit then back down groaning in praise as he did. The penetrating feeling of your best friend's mouth on you was a feeling you never, ever thought you wanted let alone needed.

"Oh, Noah," letting out a long, low moan as you watched his head move between your legs that were already trembling as every muscle in your body tightened.

"Jesus, baby you taste so fucking good. Fuck! So sweet and juicy" he cursed, diving back into you. His tongue entered you, probing your entrance over and over and lapping up your juices mixed with his spit, swallowing all of it.

"Fuck Noah, oh shit, don't stop, please," you whined grinding yourself against his mouth.

"That's it, baby girl, just like that. Work your sweet cunt on my tongue."

You brought one of your hands to his head, running it through his long hair, sighing at the feeling of it slipping through your fingers. Noah moaned against your pussy. The feeling he was putting you through was insatiable, completely indescribable. You couldn't speak anymore, just moan and whine the more he bit and sucked or licked and probed. Gripping his hair and tugging on it, you gasped, panting at the unfamiliar feeling coursing through you.

"You're so close, baby I can feel it, here," Noah rasped, laying his hand on your abdomen. "You're really tight."

"I know I am, I can feel it. Noah, please don't fucking stop," you begged him through a needy whine.

Noah's eyes stared at you darkly. He was loving the way he had you like puddy, in the palm of his hand. "Don't take your eyes off me."

"Okay," you whimpered.

Noah dived back into you, working your pussy thoroughly in and out. Your thighs shook as his tongue alternated between thrusting into you opening and messaging you clit, adding two fingers to the desperate need that kept building and building.

"Oh god Noah," you whined, panting desperately. "Oh god, don't stop. Fuck, baby, I'm almost there," you cried, gripping his hair and tightening you thighs around his face like he wanted

He ate you faster, fucked you harder, until your climax hit you hard, crashing into you like a tidal wave. You screamed his name, moaning as your inner walls clamped down on his fingers and he licked and sucked your bud. Without any shame, you rode his face, giving in to the sinful pleasure of the way his tongue forced you orgasm to spiral on.

"Fuck me, Noah," you exhaled breathlessly, when he pulled away.

"Can I?"

Your eyes widened, but you knew you wanted him to.

"Yes."

Noah stood up, pulling his joggers and boxers completely off and revealing his prized secret. Even though you were still dizzy and mind fucked from you first orgasm ever, you were still able to appreciate the size and length of Noah's dick. It was prettier than you imagined.

Without a word, Noah pulled you up and spun you around forcing you to bend over. Bracing yourself against the back of the couch, you felt the now familiar feeling of your arousal building up again.

"I know this isn't romantic, fucking you like this for the first time, but every time I've gotten myself off just from thinking about you, it's always been from me fucking you from behind. Are you okay with this."

You nodded quickly, looking over your shoulder.

"Yes, please, just fuck me, Noah."

And on that note, Noah grabbed your hips and slammed his cock up inside you, making you scream a string of choice words. He fucked you hard and fast, the only sound being your moans and skin slapping against skin.

"Fuck! You cunt it so fucking tight around my cock, y/n," he growled. "I wanna fuck you like this every day. Goddamn it!" It only took Noah a few more hard thrusts before the tension snapped in him and he managed to shove your shirt up before pulling out and coming all over your lower back.

"Holy fuck!"

Noah leaned over to you, completely out of breath. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you up and into his chest soaked with sweat. Together, you collapsed on the couch, tangling yourselves up in each other.

"I really need to shower," Noah said.

"Me too. I'm a little sticky."

Noah looked at you raising his eyebrows, that same gleam in his eyes from before.

"Round 2?"

"In the shower?"

Noah pulled you up.

"Absolutely. Shower sex is my favorite."

He shot you a cocky wink, grinning like the devil before lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fan fiction #bad omens band #bad omens cult #bad omens

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sturniozo · 9 months ago

Text

Our Lips Are Sealed V

Masterlist

“Call me Daddy one more time, Y/N, I fucking dare you.” Chris says over the phone.

I let out a laugh and roll on my side over the bed. “But you’re pretending to be my dad to help me.” I say.

“Do you actually call your dad daddy?” Chris asks.

I laugh again. “It’s possible.”

“I think you’re just trying to mess with me.” He states.

“It’s possible.” I say again.

Chris laughs. “Just try to be serious about this.” He says.

“Okay okay.” I say as I sit back up. “Daddy, I need to talk to you-“

“God damnit, Y/N.” Chris says which causes me to laugh again.

“What? I’m just trying to practice telling my daddy.” I shrug.

“Y/N, I can’t help you if you’re gonna keep doing that.” Chris groans. “Please be serious.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Chris says.

“I don’t know how to start.”

“If you didn’t spend the last hour messing around and joking with me, we’d have gotten somewhere by now.” Chris says.

I bite my lip. “I’m sorry.” I mumble.

Chris sighs. “No, it- I didn’t mean it like that. Let’s just start from the beginning.”

“Okay.” I take a breath.

“Hey dad…” I say as I pick at the chow mein noodles in my plastic box.

“Hm?” My dad hums in response, not looking up from his food.

“I thought about what I wanted to say.” I start. I take a breath and set down my fork, remembering what Chris and I had practiced.

“Well, what is it?” My dad asks.

“Well, my birthdays in 2 days so… I’ll be 18 then.”

“You wanted to tell me something I already knew?” My dad says, still not looking up from his meal.

“No, I- I just. Well I’ve graduated from school, and I’ll be an adult and I’ll have a job and-“

“This is still all things I already know. What’s the point of the conversation?” My dad asks.

I take a breath. “I’m not gonna be spending the weekends here anymore.” I say, looking down at the table.

My dad’s silent for a moment before asking, “After you find a job?”

I shake my head. “After I turn 18.”

My dad stays silent. He takes a bite of his own noodles and leans back in his seat. I stare at him intensely, waiting for his answer. My palms start to feel sweaty and my heart races.

“Okay.” My dad says.

“What?” I breathe out, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Okay. You don’t want to be here that’s fine. You don’t have to come here. I can take you home right now if you want.”

“No, dad that’s not what I meant. I-“

“You don’t want to be here. You’d rather be with your mother.”

“Dad-“

“I get it.”

“Dad please-“

“I don’t want you here either.”

My breath stops for a moment. I close my mouth and stare back down at my plastic box of chow mein noodles.

“You’re a lot- you’re just.” My dad sighs. “You’re nothing like I thought having a daughter would be.”

I stay silent. My food starts to look disgusting to me. My dad says nothing, starting to pick at the vegetables in his own noodles.

I get up from the table and walk away, down the hall and to my bedroom. I close the door behind me and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes.

I lay in my bed for what feels like hours when I feel my phone buzz under my pillow. I reach my hand under and grab my phone, staring at the notification from Chris.

Chris 💩💕

How’d it go?

I don’t answer, not even opening the message. I just slide my phone back under my pillow. I roll over to the other side, facing the wall and clutching my blanket over my body.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes my phone is buzzing in the same rhythm as before, and the sun had already set, leaving my room dark. I groggily sit up and take my phone out from under my pillow. 2 am. 14 messages from Chris, 36 messages from Nate, 4 missed calls from Nate, and Chris currently calling.

I lean my head against the wall and answer the call. “Hey.” I say.

“What’s wrong, what happened? Your brother’s freaking out you haven answered for hours.” Chris says.

“I fell asleep.”

“How’d it go with your dad?” Chris asks.

“Fine. I told him I’m not coming back and he was fine with it.”

“Just like that? He’s fine with it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s surprising.” Chris says.

I laugh. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

“So you’re coming back Sunday night?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“You should probably call Nate, he’s been freaking out.” Chris says.

“Jesus, I just fell asleep.”

“Yeah, but you almost never sleep at your dad’s house.” Chris says while laughing.

It’s true. This place gives me the creeps. The carpet, the walls, the bed. I just can’t seem to ever sleep here. “I was tired.” I tell Chris.

“Okay, well tell Nate that. I’ll see you Sunday.” Chris says.

“See you Sunday.” I say and hang up. I immediately go to call Nate, who picks up before the first ring is finished.

“Y/N, are you good?” Nate asks. “Why’s it take you so long to answer? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I told my dad I want going to be spending the weekend with him anymore.” I tell Nate.

“And? What did he say?” Nate asks eagerly.

I take a breath. “He doesn’t want me to come back either.”

Nate sighs. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

I shake my head. “He told me himself.”

“Those words?”

“Those words.” I say softly.

Nate pauses on the other side of the call. There’s nothing but silence from both ends for what feels like hours. Then he says, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t want to be here anyways.” I say back.

“I know, but I also know you’re not happy with this.”

I sigh. “I should have said it differently. I should have asked him what he felt before I said anything.”

“It’s not you, Y/n.” Nate says.

“I have a hard time believing that.” I say back. It’s always me. Every failed relationship with anybody I’ve ever known had been my fault. I didn’t communicate well, I didn’t understand, I didn’t get it.

“When are you coming home?” Nate asks.

“I’m not sure.” I respond. “Dad said he’d take me back today if I wanted, but that was at dinner.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I’ll just go home Sunday night. I don’t want to bring anything else up to dad.”

I hear Nate’s breath on the other end of the call. “Okay.” He says. “Do you want me to stay in call with you or are you going to sleep?” He asks.

“I think I’m just gonna go to sleep.” I tell him.

“Okay. Goodnight, kiddo.” He says.

“Goodnight Nate.” I say. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He says back before hanging up.

Once the call drops, I immediately go to the contact I’ve hesitated to call so many times. The call picks up almost immediately.

“Hey.” Chris says. “What’s up? Did you talk to Nate?”

“Yeah I did.” I tell him.

“Is everything all right?” Chris asks.

“Yeah.” I say softly. “Can you… can you stay on call with me through the night?” I ask.

Just from the sound of his voice I knew he was smiling. His pretty smile that makes me melt every time I see it. “Of course.”

TAGS: @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @urfavpouge @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @dwalk41202 @stvrnise @iloveneilperry @luvmxtt @blueeyedbesson @iloveurgf @mattswifr @that-chris-girl01 @sturniolho

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faithisyours · 6 months ago

Text

Something to Tell

Azriel x Ace Fem!reader

Summary: You and Azriel are recently mated. You decide to take things slow, but you have something personal to tell Az.

Warnings: coming out, fluff

Word Count: 965

A/N: Sup y’all. Sorry I’ve been absent, a lot of shit happened. Anyways, I really just wrote this one for me. I think the topic of asexuality is really left out of this book series and fandom, understandably so, but I think it would be an interesting subject to discuss, so I’m here to fulfill my own wishes. Given the lore and rules around mates, I don't even know if this could be considered a thing, but I’m gonna try my hardest to make it a thing for my ace baddies out there. IDK if I’m gonna make this a series or not (probably won’t), but maybe see how people like it before making decisions. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to tell me. As always, minors gtfo. Adults, you enjoy!

You’re just finishing up bottling an allergy tonic for your neighbor’s son when the door to your apothecary opens, the bell above ringing out. You know exactly who it is, and you are simultaneously filled with dread and relief. Azriel, your freshly bonded mate, walks into the back room where you are working, his big Illarian boots creaking the floorboards wherever he steps. When you look up to greet him he gives you a soft smile, a smile you return.

You’ve known Azriel for a little over a year now, ever since Mor begged him to come pick up her sleeping tonic from you because she had been busy. But the bond haden’t snapped for either of you until roughly a month ago, when you were out drinking at Rita’s with the inner circle, per Nesta’s invite. Over the years you had grown close with the inner circle, specifically Mor and Nesta. What had started out as small talk when they came to pick up a tonic had blossomed into a beautiful friendship.

But the last thing in the world you had wanted to happen was to form a bond with someone, especially someone as good and sweet and caring as Azriel. Sure, he is beautiful, you of all people can see that, but the physical attraction stops there, like it always does. Emotionally you two are very compatible, sharing similar interests in books, music, and dancing. After the bond had snapped you both decided to take things slowly, moreso for your sake than his. Every day you grow more and more in love with him; you’re just terrified to see the disappointment and confusion in his eyes after you tell him you’re ace.

“Almost ready to go, Love?” Azriel asks, his eyes following the skilled movements of your hands.

“Almost done,” you respond, screwing the cap and writing the label onto the bottle quickly. You buss your wok table, putting away ingredients and empty bottles. You look over everything twice more, checking for anything out of place, but also as a means to stall. You are dreading this conversation.

“Looks good, Love. Want me to grab your coat?” You turn to him, a small smile on your lips, and grab his hand, gently cradling it in yours.

“Actually… Can I talk to you for a minute before we leave? I need to tell you something.”

“Ya, of course,” he squeezes your hand gently, reassuringly. “What’s up?” You take a deep breath and guide him to sit in one of the chairs at your work table, then pull one towards yourself so you're sitting in front of him. You take both his hands in yours. You don’t make eye contact but instead stare at your hands intertwined.

“There’s something I need to tell you about myself and I need you to listen and let me explain before you say anything,” you look up to see him nodding, a look of concern and confusion on his face. The knot in your stomach is twisting. Your anxiety is through the roof, but you take a deep, albeit shaky, breath to steady yourself.

“Okay. I don’t really know how to go about saying this so I’m just gonna say it. I’m asexual, which means I form little to no sexual attraction, in my case none at all, to anyone. Which means the likelihood of me wanting to have sex with you is basically zero. I know it’s kind of a thing for mates to do it all the time, and so I thought since I am the way I am that I would never form a bond with anyone, but I guess I was wrong. And I know you're probably thinking, “well, didn’t the bond snapping make you feel anything like that?” and the answer would be no. Umm…I guess I just want to add and say that I’m not broken, and that life will be a little different with me, and that I know my boundaries, but I’m also willing to try things with you because I love you and trust you… And this doesn’t mean I don't find you attractive, because I do, I think you're really pretty, but it's more in a ‘I want to paint you’ sort of way instead of an ‘I want to fuck you’ sort of way. And I’m rambling so I’m going to stop now.”

Your leg is bouncing up and down, gaze still glued to your entwined hand. A beat of silence passes, and then he squeezes your hands, which in turn makes you look up at him. His eyes are full of understanding and love, emotions you were not expecting to see. You exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling some of your anxiety fade away.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes at him, the last of your anxiety washing away. He stands and pulls you up to do the same. He releases one of your hands, using his to brush a rouge strand of hair behind your ear, then pulls you into a tight embrace. You’re taken off guard, but you melt into him, breathing in his crisp, piny scent.

“Thank you for telling me,” he squeezes you tighter. “And I know you said life will be different with you and I want to let you know I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you, and I know we can work through any problems we may face. You are perfect. Cauldron boil me if I ever so much as think to change a single thing about you.”

And with that, he releases you from his embrace, you wipe the few tears that had welled at his words, and you go home.

#acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #ace pride #fluff #acotar fic #azriel shadowsinger #fanfiction

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋♡𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 [Intro]

"I dont care how many names you've screamed in the past; tonight, you're screaming mine."

Or alternatively: you're moving away in a week, and that gives Jungkook seven days to try and make you stay instead.

Tags/Warnings: Fuckboy!Jungkook, Fuckgirl!Reader, Angst, Misunderstandings, Friends/Enemies to lovers, Very suggestive, adult, hurt and comfort, smut, did I mention angst? It's worth it in the end tho promise

Length: didn't count I wrote this while watching anime oops

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Hello boo haha

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

There's not much you can really say about him that's not just absolutely confusing.

Well- maybe you also kind of are at fault for making things so confusing in the first place, because down the line, everything about this mess is kind of your own fault.

Jungkook knows you as loud, happy, sexy and open-minded. You dress like a barbie, you laugh without trying to appear a certain way, and you know when to act dumb to get your way. He also knows you as sexually adventurous, active, and open for everything if it fits within your own personal boundaries. He himself considers himself a hedonist after all- he chases the purest forms of pleasure, be it sexual or platonic. It's a little cute how he can find a certain sense of fullfillment and happiness from just being hugged or talked to- though you know that he's also very aware of his own charms, and knows when to weaponize them.

He takes good care of himself- something you don't see often to this extend in guys his age. They typically aren't at that stage yet where they realize that their body is something to be cared for to keep it healthy for a long time- and if they do care about their body, they end up almost obsessed with it, never thinking about anything else, suddenly only looking at everything from a purely aesthetic perspective.

He's odd. But in a certain way, he's exactly what you knew you'd end up crushing on. Hard.

And that's the problem. He really, Really wants to hook up with you.

Now that's good, right? Who would say no to their crush asking to fuck them- it's a jackpot, really, is it not? He's also very obvious with his interest beyond just sex as well- he constantly flirts, invites you to his place, or visits yours. He pays for any food you both get together, he visits the movie theater with you, holds your hand in a cheesy way just to make you blush, calls you baby, darling, princess and so much more. So what's the fucking issue?

The issue is that you're an absolute fraud.

You never have wild dates or exciting sex. You never actually experienced most of the stories you've made him believe, and you most certainly aren't more experienced than him. In fact-

you've never had sex. At all.

You're a virgin.

And Jungkook thinks you're an experienced sex-goddess. Because that's what you want him to believe. That's what you made him believe.

It really started with simple white lies- whenever your apartment was cluttered to the point that it made you embarrassed to invite him in, you'd just hiss out the door that you had someone over. Then it evolved into trying to impress him with made up experiences, just to fall into conversation with him.

And suddenly, it all got out of control.

Now you've created a whole entire persona that isn't actually real at all- and it seems like that'll ruin all your chances with him for good. Though, if you think about it, you have to admit, that if he fell for your made-up-character,

did he even fall for you at all?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I mean that's cool and all but-" Jungkook says as he walks next to you, hands in his pockets. "-how're you gonna travel every day from Seoul to Busan? That's two and a half hours with KTX." He mumbles, looking out for you by gently pushing you closer by your shoulder to make way for a bike riding past you.

You hate how domestic it feels. Like he's your boyfriend or something.

"Uhm yeah well-" you mumble, looking down at the tips of your babypink heels. "-that's why I'm moving. To Busan." You admit, and it's silent for a moment while you both walk around the park together.

You're not sure what he's thinking. Is he giving up? Sure, that would hurt, but it's also for the best. In busan you can start over, away from all the lies you've made up here-

"How can I make you stay?" He asks suddenly, and you re not sure if you've heard him correctly.

"What?" You ask because of that, and he shrugs.

"How can I make you stay?" He repeats. " I can't leave Seoul because of my job and all- but I know that you've got the option to stay here instead of being transferred to Busan." He explains. "I'm not sure why you want to leave, and it's none of my business- so instead I wanna know what I can do to make you stay instead."

"Why would I stay?" You just answer, hands behind your back as you jump a bit with every step next to him, trying to mask your nervousness with your usual childish acting. "You can just fuck someone else and forget about me." You laugh, when his hand reaches out to hold onto your bra strap, keeping you still as you stop walking. "Hey-!" You bark, until you see his face.

"I don't wanna forget about you." He tells you. "And I don't just want to fuck you either." He denies, looking at you now in a more serious manner.

"Well you're gonna have to." You shrug, crossing your arms.

"How long?" He asks suddenly, a challenging glint in his gaze as he crosses his arms as well, muscles in his arms defined as the fabric of the sleeves of his black T-Shirt stretch around his biceps.

"How long what?" You bite back equally as petty in tone.

"How long until you move?" He asks, chin up as he watches down towards you.

"A week-" you start, and he suddenly smirks impishly, before he reaches out to playfully tap underneath your chin, the gesture catching you off guard.

"That's enough time." He chirps happily, starting to walk again, a newfound confidence in his step.

"Enough time for what?" You wonder as you call after him, turning around to look at him.

"Enough time to make you stay." He boldly exclaims back-

Leaving you with an odd feeling in your stomach.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine

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joeys-babe · 1 year ago

Text

Joey B Imagines: Don’t Be Embarrassed

————————————————————————

summary: after a sex marathon with your husband joe the previous night, you head downstairs for breakfast and have a seriously awkward interaction with his parents.

(this is a tiny part 2 to - part one)

warnings: talks about sex, no actual smut

pairing: joe burrow x reader

————————————————————————

(y/n's pov)

when my alarm went off at 8, i immediately hit snooze.

i wanted to go back to sleep but remembered the plane that joe and i were going to have to catch in just a couple hours, so i slipped out of bed.

joe was still dead asleep, looking incredibly peaceful.. so i left him alone.

the first thing i did was get dressed in my traveling outfit, and putting my hair in a messy bun before i made my way downstairs.

"mommy!!" - savanna jumped off the couch and came flying towards you

"good morning sweetie, how'd you sleep?" - you picked her up and put her on your hip

"good, i had good dream." - savanna

"what was your dream about?" - you

"dada bought me puppy!" - savanna

"he did?? what did you name your puppy?" - you

"uh, i dont remember.." - savanna

"oh you don't remember.. okay. what would you name your puppy if you got one?" - you

"marr!" - savanna

"oh my gosh, you'd name it after ja'marr??" - you

"yup. put me down? i want to play with my barbies!" - savanna

"yes, of course." - you sat her down

i watched sam run up the stairs to her room before i walked into the kitchen. robin was cooking and jimmy was drinking coffee while sitting at the island.

when i walked over to the fridge to grab a water i noticed both of them giving me weird looks.

"what?" - you laughed nervously

"did you sleep good last night?" - robin smiled

"yeah actually, i didn't even hear you guys come in. i was dead asleep." - you

liar.

"mhm." - robin looked at jimmy for a second then turned back to you

this interaction was really weird so i was more than thankful when i saw joe walking downstairs and into the kitchen.

"morning guys" - joe smiled

"morning, joey!" - robin gave joe the same weird look

"what's that look?" - joe laughed

"nothing." - robin grinned

joe looked at me confused but i returned the look of pure confusion.

"did you sleep good?" - joe asked, trying to start conversation and end the silence

"mhm." - you pulled him into a hug

joe kissed my head, as i laid against his chest. robin and jimmy were still looking at us with weird smiles on their faces so we quickly pulled away from each other.

"what time did you two end up going to bed last night?" - jimmy

"uh, i don't really know. i was asleep before you guys got here. do you know?" - joe

"uh, nope." - you

"that's kinda weird because we heard quite the commotion last night" - robin

both joe and i tensed up, not knowing what to do.

"you guys know the guest room is right under the master bedroom, right?" - jimmy

"oh god." - joe sighed

"so you guys.." - you

"heard y'all? yup. coulda gone my whole life without hearing that." - jimmy

"oh my god." - you covered your face with your hands

"it's fine though, don't be embarrassed. it's not like we didn't know you guys engage in that.. activity. i mean you guys have a kid so we kinda knew.." - robin

"yeah you guys are married adults, don't be embarrassed. but, joe honey you sound like a cat dying.” - jimmy

"i don't think i sound that bad..." - joe mumbled

"he’s overreacting, joe. after i heard it though, and well realized what i was hearing i put my noice cancelling headphones on.” - robin

"all i had were pillows to put over my ears, thank god i was super tired and fell asleep quickly. i’d probably end up sleeping in the car.” - jimmy

"but really, don't be embarrassed. you guys are young and having fun." - robin

"okay, sorry about that though." - you

"it's fine." - robin smiled

"yeah guys, it's all good, i'm only slightly traumatized." - jimmy

"jim." - robin rolled her eyes

"as much as i'm loving this conversation about our sex life.. i'm gonna grab some toast and finish packing." - joe

"i'll be up there in a second!" - you told joe as he grabbed a plate of toast and started walking back upstairs

thank god that joe’s parents love me, plus i’ve already got the ring on my finger so there’s no getting rid of me.

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authors note: small little part two as a goodnight!!

hope you enjoyed! ❤️

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow series

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intheholler · 4 months ago

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Do you have any tips for being more comfortable using your natural accent in front of people? I was bullied for it as a kid and scrubbed my accent away through teenhood. As an adult, I feel like I still have to put on a neutral accent so people at work won't judge me. I told one of my old bosses that I was from Appalachia and he went on about how he'd seen do many documentaries on Appalachia and what good people we were, but also added that "Wow! I never would have known. You don't have an accent at all. You're so well-spoken!" and it felt bad. I think he had good intentions, but it made me feel like a zoo animal. I always see comments on other Appalachian folks' posts about their accents too, and there's always a handful of jerks who have to say something about their intelligence or make an incest or drug addict "joke".

It all hurts a lot and makes me self-conscious, but I don't want to be this way around my friends. Do you know how I can stop letting peoples' ignorance and classism get to me? Worrying about how I pronounce words or if I'm using region-specific slang all the time is so exhausting.

hi there <3 this is a topic near n dear to my heart because i spent so much of my life trying to avoid sounding appalachian, and the last few years of it desperate to sound so aggressively appalachian that yankees can't understand me, lmao.

that is all to say: this is gonna be long as usual.

first: class solidarity, family <3 this stuff really sucks.

what inspired me to push past the discomfort of using my natural accent after a lifetime of getting rid of it was actually along the lines of what you mentioned: people being shocked that i could be from appalachia, and be articulate at the same time. there are so many nasty, hurtful implications there.

i hate to say it, but there's no easy answer to this.

something in me just… snapped one day about ten years back. i started to look inward, and i discovered this overwhelming pride and passion and love for my home that i had denied myself my whole life, out of fear over how it made me look.

i started doing the self-work and digging deeper into that. it wasn't comfortable, but once i embraced appalachia, i wanted to defend her. the best way to do that for me was to be loud. my pride in where im from outweighed the rest.

maybe you should start there, too. look inward, break down your own subconscious biases about yourself and about our home. find out why you have been made to think this way.

work on loving the appalachian parts of yourself. GET. FUCKING. ANGRY. at those who poisoned your mind with this shit, and use that fury to work on dismantling the beliefs they imposed upon you.

because why shouldn't we talk like our mamas just because some asshole thinks its funny? why should we give up ties to our community and culture, just to be respected? why should every blessed conversation be emotionally and physically taxing just to make a classist more comfortable?

it isn't my shame to carry, and it isn't yours. it is their shame, and their self-work to do. it is not our responsibility to coddle their ignorance. that is on them.

now, when someone hears me talk, it causes a sort of dissonance that they then have to wrestle with. it shifts the discomfort and emotional labor away from me, and puts it on to them instead.

every time i speak proudly, they have to confront themselves and their biases, and how it harms someone that they respect--you.

and if they aren't the kind of person empathetic enough to do that, literally who gives a shit what someone like that thinks about you.

turn those 'jokes' they make about it right back on them:

why is drug addiction funny? why is incest and sexual assault of children funny? why are underfunded schools and a failure to give children across the nation a fair and equal education something to laugh about?

framing it in my mind that i was taking back control in conversations this way helped me speak more comfortably. it made me feel empowered.

i think of it like this: by speaking in my dialect and embodying positive and "unexpected" traits from the region (leftist politics, anti-racism, things like that), i reclaim my power. i use that power to slowly shift the opinions of appalachia with the people i interact with.

it was scary, and it's still scary. but by making a conscious decision every day to speak in our dialect and be courageous even when it's hard, we are reclaiming the parts of ourselves that they took from us. we are bettering the image of the region we love so dearly.

it is INCREDIBLY empowering now to settle into my accent. but it took a LOT of self-work, courage and self-respect to be able to do it.

it ain't easy. i do still struggle with it; i catch myself code switching all the time. i don't think you or me or any of us trying to reclaim our accents will ever fully escape the weight of the classism that dictated our manner of speaking for a huge chunk of our lives, unfortunately.

but if you do that difficult work, it is so, so liberating, family.

you can do it. talk to yourself when you're home alone. let the accent get comfortable again on your tongue. start there, then let that beautiful dialect out for the world to hear <3

#yall come back now queue hear?#appalachian dialect #classism #appalachia #appalachian #tw drug addiction #cw drug addiction #cw incest #tw incest #asks

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polyklok · 10 months ago

Note

Omg omg i love your writing!!! No words can describe how much I love it!

Imagine muderface with a s/o or crush that says the weirdest stuff, like some stuff that they have been through. It is so random! Like those tik toks that say "the Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do is die" in the most randomest of situations.

Like imagine just chilling out doing nothing and y/n looks over at muderface and says "would a zombie apocalypse be a formal event? Like your buried in your best clothes?"

It woukd very so cool if you could write something for this but if you don't want to that's cool!

Just wanted to share my thoughts. No one I know watches Metalocalypse.

Thank you!!!

Have a wonderful day or night!!

(I didn't really check my grammar or spelling that well, I am sorry)

Murderface with an S/O that says ~random~ things!

“The color is actually named after the fruit.”

You baffle him daily. He never asked to be spoonfed random trivia, shower thoughts, or absurd hypothetical questions. And yet, here he was, eating it all up.

When William was first met with your verbal hijinks, he was just so, so confused. Why did you know this? Why were you telling him this?

“What?”

“Orange. Like, people just described the color as yellow-red or something before the orange fruit was spread around Europe and they got a new word for it. The color is named after the fruit.”

“…Okay???”

For a while, he thought you were trying to give him clues about something. He was just extremely suspicious of you. Like, surely there had to be a reason behind it, right? Well, no, and he soon just found it was a quirk of yours.

He was always told to shut up whenever he tried to pipe in or had an interesting fact to share, so you defying one of the fundamental rules of his life is a bit jarring.

As he grows closer and more comfortable to you, he gets used to your pondering and even begins to consider them. Maybe you have a point?

“What’s the minimum amount of ducks do you think it would take to fully kill an adult rhino?”

“I don’t fuchkin’ know. Probably a schit ton.”

“I bet, like, five. They’d just swarm him.”

“You are scho wrong. He’d schtomp them all to a pashte.”

Well now he’s gonna stay awake all night thinking about it. He can’t decide if you’re the stupidest person he’s ever met or the smartest. Either way, he gets a little flustered when facing the seemingly infinite expanse of your mind.

After a while, he begins to pick up your habit. In his own Murderface-way, of course. He had a pretty obvious interest in things like car mechanics and war history, but now he’s more willing to share all of what he knows with you. He’s really excited that someone finally seems interested in what he has to say, no matter how meaningless it is.

And once that door is open, he becomes more willing to open up on a deeper level. Even though he’s a dumbass, he does have a depth of intelligence, even if he isn’t great at articulating it. Be patient and you’ll get some fascinating conversation from him.

“Even if there isch a God…like, what the fuck, man?! You juscht gonna leave us all down here to suffer and schit? I might as well ignore you juscht to schpite you! What a dick move.”

William never realized how valuable it was to him just to be listened to. Simply talking to you slowly becomes one of the better parts of his day, everyday.

It takes a lot for Murderface to love and it takes even more to love him back. But the effort is well worth it with these types of riveting discussions;

“You have to fight a bug that’s 100 times its original size and you get one weapon from the medieval era. What is your bug and what’s your weapon?”

“Easchy. Butterfly, Croschbow. One arrow for each wing. Instant win.”

#polyklok is real #metalocalypse #dethklok #dethklok headcanon #metalocaypse headcanon #william murderface #metalocalypse x reader #request filled #metalocalypse murderface #murderface x reader #william murderface x reader #i love you murderface but writing your speech is murder

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thezombieprostitute · 8 months ago

Text

Changing Minds - Part 8

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Mild violence and mentions of blood. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU.

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

The day of the Tea Party you hold Nick’s hand as much as you can in the car. While it’s impossible to really have a plan for what’s going to happen, you’ve talked through some plans for what to do if things go bad. Nick made sure you memorized the directions to the nearby Cairo Hotel and to ask for the manager, Jonathan Pine. As a fail-safe Nick had reserved a room under both of your names.

Nick parks the car but stops you from getting out. He gently holds your chin and, eyes full of worry, he pleads, “promise me, if anything happens, you’ll get out. Don’t stop or try to help me. You just get the hell out of there.”

“It wouldn’t look good if your girlfriend just bolted,” you argue.

“If things go south there’s gonna be a lot of chaos and a lot of things could go bad,” he asserts. “You run to the hotel. I’ll do better if I know you’re safe. Please.”

“I can’t promise that, Nick,” you object. “Believe it or not, I do actually care about you and don’t want you killed because I decided to provoke him.” Nick’s eyes widen at your confession so you continue, “it’s not romantic care. Not right now. But we’ve been friendly for so long, I can’t say it wouldn’t hurt to lose you.”

“Thank you for that,” he whispers. “But I can’t let you go to this party unless you promise me you’ll take care of yourself first.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce. “But I get to decide what taking care of myself first looks like.”

“I suppose that’ll have to do,” he smiles softly. “You can be so delightfully stubborn.”

Part of you wants to believe he is interested in being more than just friends. That his words are heartfelt compliments. You brush those thoughts away and mumble, “let’s just get this over with.”

You’re a little disappointed that the rooftop garden is so much a garden as it is a rooftop lawn. There aren’t any plants aside from grass and some plain green bushes that have been trimmed into neat, orderly box shapes. The only color is provided by the pink tablecloths that adorn the few designated eating areas. It makes you wonder if your dress is out of place and too colorful for the occasion.

There were other people already in attendance. A small group of young ladies posing for their phones, smiling and laughing. A few gentlemen who were clearly dragged along by the young ladies, sitting and grumpily staring at their phones, occasionally discussing whatever it is rich young people discuss. And Clark Kent, directing the catering staff and telling the bartender to not let his nephew have more than two drinks.

Being the polite guests that you are, you and Nick make sure to tell Clark that you’ve arrived. He plasters on his best fake smile to greet you, not even bothering to look at Nick.

“Ah, sweet Lady, you brighten this party with your presence,” he schmoozes, taking your hand to kiss it. “Sincerely, I feel out of place with all of these young ones. It’s nice to have someone mature to have a conversation with.”

“Yes, Nick and I do seem to be the only adults on the guest list,” you comment. “Are you hosting this for someone else?”

Clark sighs, “my nephew is trying to impress his girlfriend. Apparently she’s trying to make it big on Instagram, or whatever. He’s hoping attending a party hosted by Clark Kent will be good for her profile and, thus, good for him.”

“Ah,” you smile. “Kids in love are so adorable.”

Clark scoffs, “it isn’t ‘love’ it’s just horny college boy stuff.”

“Oh,” your smile falls. “He told you as such?”

“No, but I remember being that age,” he retorts. “All that’s on his mind is getting laid.”

“I remember being that age as well,” Nick interrupts. “And I remember thinking it was love.”

“And clearly it wasn’t,” Clark rebutted. “Or else you wouldn’t be here with this lovely Lady today.”

“Not all love can be true love,” Nick countered. “But it can still be real. You take the lessons you learn from that love and apply them to the next, in an effort to keep it.” He looks at you, eyes soft, yet steely with determination. “Maybe it’ll even become a true love with time and work.”

“Agree to disagree, I suppose,” Clark rolls his eyes as he smiles. “I’ll believe in love when it actually happens.”

“Given how things worked out for us, I’m inclined to agree with Nick,” you banter. “Sometimes life makes us too cynical, too hard on ourselves, to see real love. I think it’s why I adore when younger people are in love. It’s so cute and pure. But, this is clearly something we’re not all going to agree on so how about we just enjoy the food, drink and company?”

Nick kisses the back of your hand, “my Lady is so very wise.”

“Agreed,” Clark hums. “Feel free to partake of any of the food and drink that interest you. And do let me know how you like it. I need to make sure to leave feedback for the caterer.”

About an hour into the party you find yourself enjoying the company of the younger folk. They’re a lot like the young people you work with and you almost feel like “the cool aunt” with how willing they are to open up to you, how they light up when you ask more about their ideals and dreams. Nick stays with you and follows your lead. He hasn’t seen you so relaxed and happy in a while and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you that way.

He also keeps an eye on Clark, who is sulking near the bar. You’d clearly been invited to keep him company but you’re enjoying the company of everyone else. Nick’s lost track of the number of refills Clark’s gotten on his drink but it’s definitely been enough to start affecting him. The casual observer might be fooled but Nick notices the slight tells of Clark being buzzed, closing in on drunk.

To be honest, though, a drunk Clark Kent isn’t Nick’s primary concern; it’s the Instagram girl constantly taking photos and videos. Nick doesn’t care much for putting his face out in public but the young lady is insistent on getting everyone in view. He’s grateful when you comment about him being painfully camera shy and go out of your way to block his face when you can.

At least until the Instagram girl tells all of her followers how much fun you are. When that pronouncement comes out everyone hears Clark shout, “she’s supposed to be talking with me! Not you young idiots!” He comes storming over to you and Nick immediately jumps in his way, hands out in a calming, placating manner.

“Mr. Kent,” Nick entreats, “you’ve had a lot to drink today. Please take a breath and consider what–” He’s interrupted by a punch to the face.

“NICK!” You immediately run to him to see if he’s okay.

Your scream seems to pierce Clark’s drunken state and he shakes his head trying to clear it. That’s when he sees the phone is still out. Still live-streaming. He looks over to you and Nick and closes the distance to punch Nick again, this time putting him on the ground.

“You did this on purpose,” Clark shouts. “You set me up for ruin with your schemes and plots!”

“Mr. Kent,” you scold, “we are your guests. You invited us here and we’ve been nothing but polite.”

“You should leave,” Clark snarls. You take a step back, startled by the rage in his face.

Nick is up and grabs your shoulder, pulling you behind him. “He’s right, we should leave.” He keeps between you and Clark as you head towards the stairs to get to the elevator. Once inside you see the blood draining from Nick’s nose and get some things from your purse to try to clean him up. As much as he wants to enjoy your caring touch, he has to keep alert. Especially when the “express” elevator stops early.

The door opens and a small group of burly men gesture for you to step out with them. Nick looks at you and whispers, “remember the plan.” You nod and Nick throws himself at the small posse.

You hit the “Close Doors” button and stay out of sight until the doors close. You stay in that spot until the doors open at the lobby and you rush out. Your entire system is on high alert but you have to pretend to be calm as you walk through the lobby. You don’t want to draw attention. Silently you thank Nick for making you memorize the path to the hotel as it becomes the mantra for your brain, keeping you from panicking.

The Cairo Hotel lobby is immaculate and you do feel a little safer just for being there. You approach the front desk and shakily ask to see Jonathan Pine, the Manager. The woman behind the desk gives you a once over but goes to get him. You keep looking to the hotel entrance, hoping to see Nick, afraid to see Clark. You’re certain Nick is strong and capable; Teach said he’s one of their best security people. It’s why he was called in to protect a witness. You’re still very scared for him, though.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a polite cough from behind the desk. A tall, lean man with blondish brown hair and blue eyes is smiling politely, “you asked for me?”

“Y–yes,” you start, “I was told by Nick Fowler to come and ask for you?”

Mr. Pine’s eyes flicker with recognition at the name, “ah, yes. Mr. Fowler speaks highly of you. Please come with me so we can get you taken care of.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As he begins to lead you away you hear your name being shouted from the hotel entrance. You’re not sure if he followed you or if this place just made sense, but it’s clear Clark is very angry with you.

“You owe me an apology and an explanation,” he shouts as he storms towards you.

Mr. Pine steps in front of you and calmly tells Clark that he needs to leave. “I will not have a disturbance at my hotel, Mr. Kent. I will especially not tolerate any violence or threats of violence against one of my guests.”

“She’s not a guest,” Clark spits. “She can’t afford a place like this! I’ve seen her pay statements! She’d be lucky to be able to afford a half hour here!”

“She is a registered guest at this hotel, Mr. Kent, and I will not let you threaten her.”

“This is bullshit! I’ve done nothing but be kind to her and she’s ruined my reputation!”

“Your quarrel, legitimate or otherwise, has no bearing here, Mr. Kent. She is a guest, she is under my protection.”

“Oh fuck you,” Clark snaps before throwing a punch at Mr. Pine. Mr. Pine easily dodges, grabs Clark’s arm and maneuvers him into a wristlock, causing Clark to let out a bark of pain.

“Miranda,” Mr. Pine addresses the hotel clerk. “Please escort the Lady to the Cleopatra Suite while I call the police.”

Miranda nods and gestures for you to follow her.

+++++++++

You spend the next hour pacing the hotel room you were brought to. It’s a smaller, windowless suite that makes you think it’s specifically set aside for emergencies. There’s a mini-bar but you have no stomach for food or drink. You’re all nerves and keep pacing as much as you can. You wish Nick were here. It wouldn’t be enough for someone to tell you he’s okay, you need to actually see him, feel him, know he’s still alive.

The past few weeks have been a tumultuous mess and Nick quickly became your safety net, your safe haven, your reliable partner. You’d started craving his reassuring touch, his comforting whispers in your ear. You swear to yourself that if Nick makes it through this you’re gonna tell him about your feelings. About how you want it to be real. Hopefully he’ll let you down gently.

A tone from your phone gets you to stop pacing. You find a text from Nick, “about to knock on the door.” Sure enough, there’s a knock. You still make sure to check that it’s him through the peephole, just to be safe. You almost start crying when you see him on the other side of the door.

Flinging the door open you pull Nick inside with you, slam the door shut and pull him in for a kiss. Initially thrown off, he softens into the kiss and holds you tight. When you pull away for a breath you whisper, “you’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay. Didn’t realize how much I needed you to be okay.”

“Yeah, sweet Lady, I’m okay,” he assures.

When you pull away again you gasp at how beaten up he looks. He quickly tells you he’s had worse, that he’ll be okay in a few days, but you barely hear him.

“Have you seen a doctor? Nick, you might have a concussion, or broken bones, or something worse!”

“I needed to make sure you were okay first,” he confesses as he kisses you again. “Couldn’t stand the thought of you being caught.” Another kiss. “Needed to hold you again, just to be sure.” You welcome the kisses and return them with a fervor that encourages Nick to keep going. “Couldn’t go to a doctor until I heard your voice again.”

“I felt the same,” you admit between kisses. “I never want to go through that again. I need you, Nick.”

“Need me?” He gently pulls away from you, eyes searching your face.

“Yes, Nick,” you breathe. “I’ve always felt safe with you, enjoyed your company and the past few weeks have just cemented that. I want you around. I need your touch, your comforting words and presence. Please.”

“I’ll happily be yours,” he affirms. “And if I wasn’t worried about getting blood on your gorgeous body I’d take you here and now.”

You can’t hold back a small moan at the thought of Nick’s expert lips on other parts of your body and he smiles before wincing at the pain it causes in his split lip. That elicits a small chuckle from you, “we really should get you to a hospital, Nick.”

“Will you hold my hand while they patch me up,” he asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m not a fan of hospitals and could use the comfort of your touch to help keep me calm.”

“Gladly, Nick.”

He kisses the back of your hand, “thank you, my gracious Lady.”

Part 7 -- Epilogue

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#nick fowler x reader #mafia!nick fowler x reader #dark!clark kent #mob au #nick fowler #mob!nick fowler #nick fowler x female reader

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ramirezmindset · 2 months ago

Text

ғᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ.

ʙʀᴀᴅʟᴇʏ ʙʀᴀᴅsʜᴀᴡ x ғᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ.

→ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: as the daughter of pete 'maverick' mitchell, there were certain expectations people had of you, all of which you were determined to defy. however, after a hellbent summer leave of love, loss and heartbreak, you discover you're more like your father than you would've ever imagined.

→ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: angst central, reader being a dick, rooster being a dick, mav being a dick, everyone being a dick, break-ups, seggsual innuendos, loss of relationships/persons, platonic male/female friendships, romantic male/female relationships, adult language ↳wc: 2974

FATED TO PRETEND: INTRO & MASTERLIST

Your phone rang on the desk opposite you for the third time. It was a cold day where you were stationed, freezing even, and you were fairly sure that even if you did want to answer that call, your phone would be stuck to the mahogany due to the sub-zero European temperature in your small office.

You already know what he'd say, you could already feel the words penetrating your ears. You didn't want to hear them, couldn't bring yourself to hear them. Maybe if you ignored the phone some more, he would give up and call the next best thing. The phone stopped ringing, and you were granted with a few moments silence. You leant back on the chair, folding your arms over your chest and releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

The wind battered against the flexible glass of the window. You could just make out the faint outline of people on the airstrip, running around and laughing at each other. The pilots down there were fresh, spring-chickens who were so excited for what the future of this career holds. It was your job to keep their excitement palpable, not to tell them the truth, that in sixth months when dicking about is over, they would wish they never joined the Navy in the first place.

The phone rang again. Groaning, you braced your elbows on the desk and stared at the name on the screen.

Dad.

You bit the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit you got from your mother. You didn't even realise you had reached for the phone until it was against you ear and your father's voice filled the room.

"God, Y/N! I thought you were dead!" Pete Mitchell said that every time you answered his phone calls. It was routine, almost, you would ignore his first few calls before finally picking up, and he would panic and berate you and you would (insincerely) apologise before letting him say whatever it is he needs to say, and that would be it. He wouldn't call again for three months and then the cycle repeats itself, like a snake eating it's own tail.

"What is it?" You cut to the chase.

"Look, Y/N, you know what I'm gonna say. And I'd rather it be me say it than Admiral Simpson" You sigh down the phone, you could picture your fathers face in your head. Eyebrows furrowed, free hand on hip as he looks down at the ground and back up. Right now, he'd be glancing around the room, trying to make himself look busy to any suspecting on-lookers. "Don't make this hard for me"

"Do I have to?" You ask, biting the skin on your thumb. "Like, is there actually nobody else?"

"You know you have to. Don't pretend you're busy and hang up the phone so you can avoid the conversation, I've already called Ant and he said you were just sat in your office farting about with paperwork" You take a mental note to berate your best friend as soon as this call is over. "Y/N, this is your job. I know you'd rather hide away in some dark corner and teach some morons how to stop and start a plane, but you're better than that. You know it, I know it, Cyclone knows it, and the Navy knows it. That's why we need you here."

"Well, what's in it for me?"

"Bragging rights, I don't know. I don't even know why I'm here, dovey." You close your eyes and sigh at your fathers childhood nickname for you. Your relationship had always been strained, your mother doing everything in her power when you were a child to stop Pete from seeing you. She thought he was dangerous, irresponsible, which are both true, but that never stopped him from showing up at your front door demanding to see his daughter. You were always a daddy's girl, but his unreliability slowly ate away at whatever relationship the two of you shared, him preferring to give all the fatherly love he had in him to his late best friends son, Bradley, who, you had heard, couldn't really stand him either, especially in more recent years.

You felt bad for the guy, you really did, but he did it to himself.

"You don't have a choice here, babe, you either do whatever this is we have to do or you're permanently grounded. I'm on the same terms as you, you know how Cyclone feels about me. We're on the same team"

"I guess" You murmur just as a knock on the door comes. Ant pokes his head round, biting his lip nervously as you hold up a finger, a silent plea for him to give you a minute. "Fine, I'll do it. But if anyone asks, I did this of my own free will and my father did not have to call me begging. That's embarrassing for you"

Pete chuckled down the phone, bidding you a goodbye as you put the phone on your desk and rested your head in the palms of your hands.

"If it's any consolation, I've been called back too" Ant says, snapping you out of your trance. He's behind you now, massaging your shoulders. He's tense too, you can feel it in his movements. "Someone else has been called back as well, I bet Mav didn't mention that on the phone"

"He didn't need to" You reply, craning your neck to look up at him. Ant and you had met years ago when you were both stationed somewhere sunny, neither of you cared enough to remember where. You were both Top Gun graduates, and he was your new back seater after your last guy had a panic attack in the air and quit, much like a story your dad told you about someone he knew years ago.

The two of you regularly joked that you were twin flames, he was a brother from another mother, Sonic and Tails, Femme and Fatale. You could read each other like a book, and he was the first person to not have any expectations of you or your skills in the cockpit after realising who your father was.

Ant smiled lovingly down at you, leaning slightly down to wrap his forearms around you in a hug. You reached up to hold his wrist, leaning back slightly, welcoming the embrace.

"It'll be fine" He murmured, pressing a quick and friendly kiss to your temple before releasing his hold on you. "We're only there for three weeks, it'll be over before you know it, and we'll be back in this shithole teaching these men how to make fire"

You chuckled, nodding along slowly.

"I better pack a bag" You say, pushing yourself out of the chair. "When Top Gun calls, I better come a-running"

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The air is thick and the sun is hot, a sharp contrast to your last location. Ant walks slightly ahead of you, abandoning your duffel bags in the trunk of his car and pushing his sunglasses up his nose. The sound of the waves crashing nearby was somewhat calming in comparison to the pounding in your head. Despite the somewhat idyllic scenery, you would rather be anywhere but here.

Your jeans were sticking to your legs as you felt a bead of sweat roll down your back. You couldn't tell whether it was from nerves or from the blistering heat, either way, you'd rather be somewhere with air conditioning.

"Mav said he'd be in there" Ant says, pointing ahead of him at a beachside bar. The sign read 'The Hard Deck', with small LED planes flying around the slogan, lighting the sand around it blue. Of course your dad would be here, probably scoping out some poor fresh-meat naval aviators to scare the daylights out of.

"Stop talking to my dad" You roll your eyes and walk ahead towards the entrance of the bar as soon as you felt a cool breeze coming from the general vicinity.

"Hey! Maybe if you spoke to him more, I wouldn't have to be the middleman!" Ant hollers from behind you, picking up his pace to catch up with you.

Your dog tags smacked against your chest as you stepped up towards the bar, scouting the room out for any sign of your father. He was on the other side of the bar, tormenting the bartender most likely. Ant waved at him from behind you, gaining his attention as he nodded for the two of you to join him at the other side of the bar.

"Sonic" He nods at Ant. "Dovey" He opens his arms for a hug, a rare sight, and even though every neuron in your brain was screaming at you to leave him standing there with open arms like some sort of theme park attraction, you just couldn't resist a hug from your dad. In his arms, you felt like a little girl again, who's dad didn't hurt her, who's dad didn't run off, who's dad didn't introduce her to the first and only boy to ever break her heart.

"Hi, dad" You say, hugging him round the middle tightly as his hand rubbed your back.

"I got you two a drink" He replies, pulling away from the embrace and sliding two glasses towards you. Ant picks his up, chugging the concoction immediately and scuttling off down the bar, no doubt on purpose. He does this every time, makes some sort of excuse to leave you and your father alone together so he doesn't 1) witness the awkwardness of the interaction, and 2) be caught in the crossfire of the inevitable argument the two of you end up having.

"We don't have to do this, dad" You say, guzzling your own drink before slamming it back down on the bar. Malt whiskey, at least he remembered your drink of choice. "We don't have to attempt to mend whatever this relationship is just because we're working together, because in three weeks I'm gonna be back in Bosnia or wherever it was I was booted off to, and we won't talk for months and it'll just start all over again"

"I'm glad we're on track" He smiled at you, resting a hand on your shoulder, thumping it in a friendly manor. "I'll see you tomorrow, kid" And with that, your father was walking down the bar towards the bartender as you turned around to find Ant at the pool table, with some more aviators in their khaki's.

He nods his head for you to join, but you shake your head and turn back around, leaning your elbows on the bar, losing yourself in your thoughts.

The last time you were at Top Gun, this bar had been less than pretty. It was grotty, sticky floors and all. The jukebox would play the same fragmented verse of some random 80s ballad on repeat, and the place always had an almost fusty smell from years of beer and other spirits being spilt on the floor and bar. The bartender's were just as unrecognisable, and, looking over at your father, you wouldn't be surprised if he had some sort of history with the woman leaning over to ring the bell that sat happily above you.

You chuckled to yourself as a couple men in khaki's hauled your dad out and onto the sand, he probably deserved it. Just as you were about to join Ant, the bartender turned to you.

"Y/N, right?" She smiled at you. You blinked at her and nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "I'm Penny, Pete and I are old friends" She pushed another glass of malt whiskey towards you.

"It's on the house" She continued. "He never stops talking about you" Her eyebrows furrowed, as if waiting for your reaction, but all you did was lift the glass to your lips and raise an eyebrow back.

"Surprising" You reply, putting the glass down. "I never talk about him"

"He said you'd say something like that" You both chuckled. Penny had a comforting aura about her, something motherly and warm. You wondered what someone like her saw in someone like your father. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're dad is a good guy deep down. Took me a while to believe it too. Just- I know you're gonna be working together for the next few weeks, so try not to let the fact that he's sometimes a dick get in the way of whatever it is that you need to do. From what I've heard, you're a fantastic pilot, Mav has some competition"

You smile at her, grateful for her words of wisdom, but just as you open your mouth to reply, the door to the bar swings open and the sounds of cheers from the aviators behind you fill the room.

Suddenly, Ant is behind you, resting his hands either side of you on the bar so you're back is flush with his chest, creating a human shield of some sorts.

"OK, don't look" He says, staring dead ahead. "But Bradley just walked in" Your eyes went wide as Penny pursed her lips and walked off to the other patrons, leaving you pushed up against the bar nursing a drink. "He has a-" Ant cuts himself off, furrowing his eyebrows. "He has a pornstache?"

"What?" You reply, ducking under his arm to escape his embrace before he could stop you.

Immediately, your eyes were attached to the tallest man in the bar, you wouldn't have missed him even if you were blindfolded. He was more muscular than the last time you saw him, and his hair was slightly golden, like it always was when he spent too much time in the sun, telling you he had been here for a while. Those stupid aviator glasses were still plastered to his face, like they had been for the last decade, and he was still sporting Hawaiian shirts like they were going out of fashion. His clothes hugged him deliciously, and you're suddenly reminded of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

Ant was right, he had grown a pornstache, and you hated to admit it, but you don't think you had ever seen him look so good. It had been five years since you saw him last, five years since your relationship had ended. Your father had introduced you two at some Navy event just after you had graduated from Top Gun. You knew who he was, of course, you had seen photos of him hung around your dad's apartment, you were fairly sure Pete had more pictures of him than he did you.

He smiled at you, with that stupid fucking smile, and immediately you were a goner. He introduced himself, offering you a glass of champagne and a seat at the table next to him, and for four months after that you were inseparable. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, and he looked at you like he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. He was the first, and only man, you had loved fully, with every little bit of your heart and soul, so much so that he was the first face to appear in your head when you woke up, and the last face you pictured before you fell asleep.

You hadn't seen him since he broke your heart half a decade ago, leaving you a shell of yourself for no apparent reason other than the fact that he 'couldn't make it work.' To this day, you don't know what 'it' is, what 'it' he was referring to, you can only imagine he was talking about long distance, your jobs constantly forcing you to be apart, but the years of maturing and growth made you see the bigger picture. He just didn't want you anymore. He had had his fun, he had dicked about with Pete Mitchell's daughter, became a naval celebrity, and then fucked off when the novelty of you had worn off.

"Earth to Y/N!" Ant bellowed, waving his hand in your face. You were snapped out of your trance. "I said do you wanna leave?"

You shook your head, nervously fiddling with the dog tags around your neck. "No, it's ok. Just- we'll avoid him" Ant nodded, passing you the drink you had abandoned haphazardly on the bar. You drank the rest of its contents, watching Bradley like a hawk.

Ant scoffed next to you, he knew what you meant by 'avoiding' him, you would sit at the bar, keeping your distance but your eyes locked on him until he noticed you. And when he would notice you, you would crap yourself and leave and then cry yourself to sleep as Ant would nurse you when you dry heaved from sobbing. He had been here one too many times before, Bradley's name has to merely come up in conversation for you to spiral.

"Sonic, I'm serious" You say, turning your back to Bradley and leaning on the bar once again. "Me and you are gonna have fun, and then we're gonna go back to the apartment and order a pizza and then go to bed. I'm not letting some man get me down-"

You're cut off by the sound of the piano behind you, and you don't even need to turn around to know that it's Bradley's fingers expertly playing the keys, and you don't even need to turn around to know that your dad is probably pressed up against the window paying more attention to the guy at the piano than his daughter who's drinking her own sorrows at the bar.

Ant sighed. "If you say so."

#top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #pete mitchell #tom cruise #miles teller #maverick

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lovingseventeen · 2 years ago

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my random thought just suddenly wondering how it feels to have seventeen as your older brother 🥺 personally, i think seungcheol, jeonghan, woozi, hoshi, eisa and vernon radiates big bro energy jsjdhdhshsjs btw i love your writings 😻

svt as older brothers

a/n: this is totally independent from the members and their siblings irl/where they are in their actual sibling lineages lol

seungcheol:

✰ literally an additional guardian

✰ when you come home late he’s in the living room like “where were you” -_-

✰ little tough, but he’s also the person you trust the most

jeonghan:

✰ always always teases you

✰ but still manages to be sweet in the end

✰ if he annoys you too much he'll try to make it up to you by giving you a small gift

✰ sometimes it’s a bag of your favorite chips or maybe it’s a new pack of nice pens because he knows you like them

joshua:

✰ easy going and doesn’t really bother you

✰ also quite responsible so you can rely on him to help you with homework or general responsibilities

✰ although he will (lovingly) post a very cringe (in his opinion, cute) picture of you from your childhood for your birthday greetings

✰ i can’t believe y/n is so grown now, i might just cry 🥰✨🫶 *used ironically*

jun:

✰ unspoken understanding type of close

✰ he’s pretty responsible too but it’s disguised with how weird he is LMAO

✰ will make a controversial snack and always ask if you want some ???

✰ the best bro to watch stupid comedies with

hoshi:

✰ the kind of sibling that you'd bicker with a lot because of the tiger agenda and general small annoying instances

✰ the kind of menace in the sense that he’ll ruffle and mess up your hair or hang out in your room for no reason

✰ but he's also simultaneously your number one defender

✰ someone's interested in you? ohoho get ready to face the older brother interrogation

✰ expect to not be able to easily flirt with anyone, he's gonna ruin it

✰ “oh is this the guy you were giggling about last night-” right before you push him out of your conversation

✰ your s/o broke your heart? NOBODY give him their location

wonwoo:

✰ the perfect sibling to participate in parallel play LMAOO

✰ the two of you are in the same room doing completely different things and honestly, it’s a comfort

✰ the kind to send you a meme instead of just showing it to you on his phone even if you’re on the same couch

woozi:

✰ also a very responsible big bro

✰ i feel like he’d be the best to go to for any advice

✰ maybe more on the serious side but he’s always welcoming to you and sincerely listens

dokyeom:

✰ honestly the kind of sibling that will definitely do stupid shit with you

✰ the kind of brother you’d make a tiktok about bc he’s doing something equally funny and weird

✰ quite literally the most entertaining family member during karaoke sessions on holidays bc he has the voice of an angel but also the energy of a thousand suns when he feels like it

✰ even if you guys ever jokingly bicker i can't imagine him ever really getting mean so y'all don't really argue

mingyu:

✰ always prepares extra food for you

✰ if he gets up earlier than everyone and has to make breakfast for himself, best believe he's making more than one serving so you have something when you wake up too

minghao:

✰ still slightly babies you even if you’re grown

✰ in his mind you’re still his baby sibling and that he has to take care of you regardless of your age

✰ even as adults he might text you on a day that it’s raining and ask “did you bring an umbrella with you to work today?”

✰ puts in the effort for a chance to hang out with you when he can 🥺

seungkwan:

✰ why is arguing with him so funny LMAOAO

✰ go into his room to knock something small over and leave without saying anything and he's ready to throw hands

✰ will jokingly fight you but immediately apologize if he accidentally hits you too hard or he thinks he might’ve hurt you

✰ “what. is. your. problem- oh shit i’m sorry i didn’t mean that-”

vernon:

✰ the chillest older brother omg

✰ reliable in the sense that he'd probably accompany you in your shenanigans - literally goes with the flow

✰ you don't have someone to go with you to this late concert? sure he'll tell your parents he'll go with you

✰ “you wanna go see this band with me?” you ask, showing a poster on your phone

✰ “sure?”

✰ you need someone to drive you somewhere? yeah he can spare an hour, just text him when you need him to pick you up

dino:

✰ also another fun sibling to argue with

✰ it’s fun to tease him by saying he’s your little brother even when he literally isn’t

✰ “y/n i’m literally *insert the exact number of days he was born before you* days older than you”

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marve2014 · 2 years ago

Text

No Time Like the Present

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Part Four

Summary: Y/N meets Thing.

Warnings: Minor mention of violence, bullying.

Minors DNI

Word Count:2.9K

Authors Note: All characters aged up to 18. This is where the story diverges from the actual story line.

Outreach day was one day a year that the students of Nevermore coexisted with the kids of Jericho in order to "strengthen the bonds” between the two groups; At least that’s the spiel the mayor keeps giving all the businesses so they’ll let Nevermore students work in their shops. Tyler and I spent the morning talking about Wednesday and I’s not official, official first date while we waited for our Nevermore kid to show up. We were assigned the one and only Xavier Thorpe; the same one who hates Tyler and honestly makes me uncomfortable with how he looks at me and Wednesday. Making my iced coffee before people start trickling in, Xavier comes walking in.

“Hello Xavier, how are you today?” you ask, trying to make polite conversation.

“I’m good y/n, how are you feeling after last night?” he smirks as he grabs an apron and makes his way behind the counter.

“If you must know, I had an amazing time. First dates are never really what you expect them to be, are they?” Smiling as you remember the feeling of Wednesday's hand in yours..

“First date? With who?” you can see the confusion flash across his face and can’t help but chuckle.

“With Wednesday of course. She was the one who demanded it was a date”. You decide to embellish the story just a little bit to make him even more uncomfortable

“Wait, you and Wednesday?!? ‘“ he asks clearly shocked at the information you just provided.

“Yes, me and Wednesday. Is that a problem?' you question coldly.

“No, no, no problem at all. Just a little confused. I thought I was more her type.” He confesses as he starts wiping down the counter “guess she wasn’t playing hard to get, huh? Oh crap. And when I flirted with you before! Jesus I’m on idiot”

"Oblivious, yes, an idiot, eh, harsh words” you defend and give him a smile.

Tyler walks out of the breakroom and notices you and Xavier talking, you look over to him and he sends you a look that you know can lead to nothing good.

“I will be right back Xavier, it seems I am being summoned by that doofus over there” you laugh, walking towards Tyler as he pulls you into a hug when you reach him.

"Wednesday is at pilgrim world, wearing the costume and everything, we have no customers and Xavier can handle the few that come in.” Tyler rushes out all in one breath.

“On my goodness, yes! Lets go! I’m so gonna use this to blackmail her. Xavier? We’ll be back in 10 minutes hold down the fort.”

“Aye, aye captain.” he mock salutes you as you and Tyler make your way to pilgrim word. Looking through the crowd trying to find Wednesday, you notice a smaller kid surrounded by 3 older boys – all dressed up like pilgrims. You leave Tyler and make your way over and see the smaller boy struggling as one of the older ones is trying to force him into a wooden contraption.

“HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” You run over and all of them stare at you.

“Go away, this doesn’t have anything to do with you, outcast lover.” The ring leader says as he tries to get the small boy to stop squirming. You look around trying to find an adult as you feel someone walk directly next to you.

“Howdy Pilgrims.” You look and see Wednesday staring at the situation with a cold decisive look in her eyes. “ I suggest you let Eugene go”. Wednesday rests her arm on the top of the wooden stock preventing it from closing on him.

“What do you want to end up in the stocks too?” The ring leader asks as you pull the kid Wednesday called Eugene from the wooden stock and put your arm around his shoulder to comfort him.

“If I recall, we did this dance before and it didn’t end up well for you.” Wednesday smugly states as the larger boy makes a move to grab her. You stay with Eugene and Wednesday ends up tossing the kid to the floor and breaks his finger; all of the Jericho boys flee and you and Wednesday tend to Eugene. You're cleaning his uniform when Wednesday walks over and takes in the both of you smiling and laughing despite what just happened.

“Why do I always find you in trouble?” Wednesday asks while you finish cleaning up Eugene.

“Well I couldn’t let them just be mean to Eugene. It would be like hurting a puppy!” You laugh and stare at Wednesday noticing how beautiful she looks.

“You are absolutely gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?” You ask and can tell Wednesday is starting to blush.

“I assume you two know each other?” Eugene interrupts.

“Yes Eugene, this is y/n. She’s a normie. But she’s MY normie.” Wednesday declares ready to defend you if Eugene were to say something cross. You can feel your cheeks heating up at her casualness of mentioning you two being an item, unable to hide your smile you grab Wednesdays hand in yours.

“Well Eugene, it was a pleasure meeting you but I need to borrow Wednesday here.” You smile and lead both you and Wednesday back to the Weathervane walking in, still hand and hand with each other you make Wednesday sit at the table closest to the cash register you leave her there while you make her, her usual all the while Xavier is staring at you both mouth gaped open,with how easily she is letting you order her around; something he imaged should not even be possible with how strong willed the Wednesday Addams he knows is. Xavier makes his way over to the table you sat Wednesday at and smugly looks her up and down.

“Never thought I would see Wednesday Addams act so domestic.”

“Xavier, I’m going to stay this once and only once, if you value your life you’re going to keep your mouth shut and not mention what’s seen here today to anyone at Nevermore.”

“Ill keep that in mind.” He smiles and makes a move to sit across from Wednesday.

“Xavier, if I’m not mistaken, you’re supposed to actually work; not harass customers. Go wipe something down.” You glare and make sure he’s away from Wednesday before she can threaten him anymore. Finishing up her drink, you walk over and take where Xavier was going to sit. You look Wednesday in the eyes “I am taking you somewhere tonight, be at the gates of the school at 9:00p.m. Okay? And dress warm. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Fine, but I need to talk to Tyler, has he made it back yet?” She questions.

“No clue, let me check the back. One minute”. You run to the back break room and see Tyler sitting in one of the chairs drinking an energy drink and playing some game on his phone.

“Wednesday needs you, please and thank youuuu.” You smile and wait for him to follow.

“The peasant you were seeking ma’am.” You motion to tyler.

“How can I be of service?” Tyler jokes as Wednesday pulls out a map she got from Pilgrim World.

“I need to know where on this map is the old pilgrims meeting house from the 1600s.”

Tyler looks down at the map confused and then points to a secluded area.

“There, but its kind of sketchy, Squatters and meth heads use it as a crash pad. My dad has to clear it out every few weeks. Why are you looking for it?”

“No reason.” Wednesday coldly states as she looks from Tyler to you.

“Becoming obsessed with the monster in the woods, are we?” Tyler jokes.

“Okayyyy, and that’s enough interaction between the two of you. Wednesday here has to go play her cello and then she has a date to get ready for” you usher Tyler away and pull Wednesday in for a hug. You feel her stiffen and then immediately relax into your arms. “I will see you later, Lovely. Okay?” You kiss her cheek and send her on her way.

Feeling the stares from both Tyler and Xavier, you ignore both of them and make yourself a coffee before the lunch rush comes in.

The rest of the shift goes by without a hitch, Xavier staying away from Tyler, and everyone staying away from you until it was time to close. You and Tyler head to your house so you can get ready for your date.

“So what exactly did you plan for your date?” Tyler asks as he starts rummaging through the fridge looking for a snack.

“A dinner picnic. You can eat anything in that fridge but so help me if you touch the cheese. It’s for tonight.” You yell as you make your way up the stairs. Looking through your clothes, you decide on jeans and a sweater so that you will be warm in the cold night air. Walking back down stairs you get a picnic basket from the Hall closet and bring it into the kitchen. Getting some fancy bread, crackers, fruit and cheese you start loading it all up as Tyler sits there watching eating some form of food in an old takeout container.

“Do you think shell like this?” You nervously ask, placing some drinks into the basket.

“I think she would literally let you sit there and just stare at her and she would have a good time. I mean you got kidnapped and she classified it as a date.”

“You’re not wrong. Okay, foods packed, Im ready. You can stay if you want. My mom will be home in like an hour; you know she loves feeding you. I’m out.” You hug Tyler, leaving him in the house as you make your way to the gates of Nevermore. Pulling near the gates, you see Wednesday and you put the car in park and hop out. Grabbing the black roses you hid in the backseat, you make your way over to her and pull the passenger door open for her.

“I know you love black flowers, and these are a lot easier to find than black dahlias. I hope you like them.” You smile as you close her door and get in the drivers side.

“Thank you for the flowers, not everyone can appreciate a dead flower. But I do.”

“Kay, so I promise im not bringing you to our next location to murder you. I feel like you could take me down and kill me faster than I could kill you, however, It is a spooky place, but that’s your vibe, and I want you to be comfortable.” You explain nervously as you start driving toward your destination.

Pulling into an old cemetery you see a small smile at the corners of Wednesday’s lips.

‘’This is an acceptable location for the date.” Wednesday tries to not seem excited.

You get the blanket and pillows while Wednesday grabs the picnic basket and you make your way to the back of the cemetery. Placing everything down, you and Wednesday begin to eat the snacks you prepared.

“Can I ask something without you getting offended?” You cautiously ask Wednesday, making her put down her crackers.

“I suppose that’s okay. Go ahead.” She responds.

“What makes me different? Everyone else gets this cold version of you, but I seem to get a softer side.” You grab her hand and start drawing small circles on the back of her knuckles.

“I don’t know what you mean. I treat you the same exact way I treat everyone else.” She argues but keeps her hand held within yours.

“Oh really? So if anyone else held your hand, you’d be fine? Or if anyone else did this?” You lean forward and gently cup the side of Wednesday’s face and bring your lips to hers. You can feel her resist the kiss and you start to pull back thinking you made a huge mistake. As a wave of embarrassment begins to wash over you, you feel Wednesday's hands on each side of your head, tangling her hands in your hair, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss; neither of you stopping until you need to come up for air. You look over at Wednesday's flushed state and start to giggle.

“So you would let anyone else do that? I have to say, if this is gonna work, I’m gonna need that to not happen.”

“If anyone else did that to me I would gouge their eyes out and deliver them to you on a bed of roses. Only you get to do that to me, there are a lot of things you make me feel that I can not explain. It should repel me, disgust me, but one look at your smile and I now understand why the sun dies for the moon each night. Before you, I was destined to live a lonely existence. But the mere thought of never seeing you again brings me a pain that for once, I do not enjoy. I am learning that there is more to life than solitude and just living to eventually die.” Leaning over Wednesday takes the initiative to lay herself slotted between your legs, her back to your chest as she brings your hands to hold hers as they rest on her stomach. Too shocked to say anything you just squeeze Wednesday further into your arms and rest your head on top of hers. You both enjoy each others company while staring at the stars and continuing to eat the snacks you packed.

“So what are your parents like?” You ask. “I saw their photo in that weird library we went to.”

“My parents have always loved each other more than life itself. Growing up with them was sickening; always having to see how much they loved each other. I also have a brother, his name is Pugsley. He’s defenseless at best, he’s the reason I got sent here. There were kids at school bullying him; they tied him up and shoved him in a locker. I don’t like when people mess with the people that I care about if you haven’t noticed. Eugene reminds me a lot of Pugsley, minus the urge to strangle him constantly.”

Wednesday gets a faraway look in her eyes as she talks more about her family, her Uncle Fester, Thing.

“Wait wait wait! So he’s actually just a hand? Like just the hand, no arm, no body and he’s able to communicate and move?” You ask excitedly, wanting to meet him immediately.

“It’s one of the great Addams Family mysteries. He’s over there by that headstone if you want to meet him. He was with us in the library as well. You’re kind of unobservant.” Wednesday laughs and snaps her fingers calling Thing over.

“Thing, this is y/n, y/n this is Thing.” Wednesday introduces.

You squeal with excitement. “Ohhhh my god. Can i pick him up? He’s so cute!”

Thing tilts his nub of a wrist and confusingly looked at Wednesday.

“Go ahead, she wants you to.” Wednesday reassures him. Thing walks on his fingers over to you and climbs up your leg making his was to your outstretched hand. You begin to coo and pet his palm.

“I love him, I want to take him home. He’s like a little bunny rabbit that you don’t need to feed or water.” That comment gets you flicked in the hand by Thing and you look down at him scoldingly. “Heyy. I was calling you cute, don’t make me put you in the car.” You threaten and nuzzle his palm into your hands using it they way you would rub a dogs stomach.

“He may act like he hates it, but he actually loves the attention. He’s like a dog.” Wednesday explains as she makes him get down on her shoulder so she can take your hands in hers again.

As you both continue to lay there you start to hear a rustling in the woods behind you. Looking over, Thing has left, already going to investigate. Grabbing Wednesdays hand with worry you pull the both of you to your feet and start packing all of the remaining food, blankets and pillows and rush to the car.

“We need to go back and get Thing.” You breathlessly tell Wednesday.

“Thing will be fine, its what he’s made for.” Wednesday calmly states.

“Wednesday, you said he was family. I don’t know if you’ve watched Lilo and Stitch, but no one gets left behind.” You yell, making your way back to where you were seated in the cemetery to attempt to locate Thing with Wednesday trailing behind you. Trying to remain calm you slowly make your way into the opening of the woods and are immediately met with what sounded like loud footsteps. Grabbing Wednesday and turning around to run you both stop in your tracks as you’re assaulted by the light of a bright flashlight being shone directly in your eyes.

Taglist: @athenablack1959 @lovelyy-moonlight @wednesdayiswoe @@deadpool-in-a-snood @lixeira @laurenmusic17 @antilost @donnabenevientosbitch @greygsworld @yukiunoo @dumb-ass2 @futurepiratekingfluffy @cupiocalamity @ladey

#wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday season 1 #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams x y/n #Wednesday Addams fanfiction #Part Four #Series #No time like the present #Wednesday Addams Story #Wednesday x female!reader

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dixonsgirl93 · 1 year ago

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Opposites and Opportunities (Sfw)

Merle x ace fem!reader

:Request from anon:

A/N: I've stated before that I personally am not ace, nor do I know anyone who is. I hope I did this enough justice. Feedback would be appreciated so I can improve. Thank you and enjoy!

"Listen, Merle. You're wasting your efforts on me. I'm not interested." You turn to fully face him now. "And it's not because of your charmingly brash personality or your wickedly handsome face. That sort of thing just doesn't interest me." You turn away again.

"Doesn't interest you, huh? What? Having a good time is not something you like?" Merle called after you from the stairs.

You sigh and face him again. "Sex. I mean sex. I've never cared for it. All right?" You feel yourself go red in the face and then silently berate yourself. So what if you didn't like the idea of sex? It's nothing to be ashamed about, you remind yourself.

"Maybe you just haven't met the right guy yet!" He continued and you resigned yourself to the fact he was really not gonna let this go.

"People always say that. As if sex is so important to be having in your adult life. Maybe I don't want to find the right man. Maybe for the last few years I've tried to like the idea because everyone around me and the media has told me I should? I've only recently come to terms with who I am and no one...no one...is going to change me."

Merle held up his hands (metal and normal) in surrender and smirked. "I didn't mean any harm, babygirl. I can't say I understand though." He rested his arms on the pole in front of him again and looked down at you.

"You don't have to understand it, just respect it." You walk away, back to your cell.

Later that day Merle finds you outside and approaches you.

"Hey. Mind if I join yer?" He asks. You motion for him to sit and does and looks out at the darkness. "Do you think it's more or less scary when you can't see 'em out there?" He nods towards the fences.

You follow his gaze and think about it. "Depends which side of the fence you're on." You reply.

Merle chuckles. "Good answer." He pauses. "So anyway, about our conversation earlier, about you not liking sex...uh, why not? I mean, have you always felt that way?" You see genuine curiosity in his eyes and it surprises you. He actually wants to learn.

You look down at the table and frown, thinking about how to phrase your answer. "I can't really explain it, it just...doesn't appeal to me. It seems kinda gross, honestly. Sharing so many bodily fluids." You make a face at the thought.

Merle watches your reaction. "So...you're a germaphobe? Is that it? God help you in this mess. Walker fluids are worse, honey." He laughs to himself, again looking out at the fence. It was too dark to see anything and you wondered how many walkers were standing just out of reach.

You can’t help but smile at his answer. “Well, that is true. It’s not just the germs though, the whole act of…” You gesture wildly with your hands. “…of sex, that I don’t like.”

Merle watched you try to explain and looked away again. “I still don’t get it. Maybe I’m just too horny to.” He chuckles and shrugs. “But hey, you do you, I guess.”

“Thanks.” You say and place a hand on his metal arm. “I underestimated you. I didn’t think you’d…be so understanding. I especially didn’t think you’d be so curious about it.” You say, looking in the distance.

There’s a short pause. “Gotta be honest, I thought you were lying at first to get me off ya back. I’d get it. I can be a lot for some folk.”

You look at him for a moment but say nothing. What could you say to that? It was true and it felt like he was opening up to you. You knew it must be a rare thing too, knowing the kind of person he was, or at least, who he showed the world he was.

“I still…” You begin to say and then pause, wondering if it was a good idea to divulge this information. “I still feel romantic attraction.” You admit.

“Oh yeah? That’s where I fail. Don’t think I can do that mushy crap.”

“To quote you earlier 'maybe you just haven't met the right person'." You look at him knowingly, with a smirk. Merle turns to you laughs.

"Hell, maybe you're right." He admits. "Even less of a chance to find her now though, don't ya think?" His expression turned sombre for just a moment.

"True." There's a long moment of silence again, just sitting in each other's company, letting the weight of the moment sink in. "Maybe there's still a chance. I mean, we're not dead yet." You smiled encouragingly at him but you couldn't quite feel the hope for a future like that in your heart.

Merle just chuckled and stood up. "Anyway, thanks for the chat, Y/N. Have a good night." He winked and walked back inside.

#merle dixon #twd #the walking dead #merle dixon x reader #merle dixon x you #merle dixon imagine #ace reader #ace #asexual #merle dixon x yn

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yippee-boi09 · 2 months ago

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Quirky Quinn

“Thank you so much, missy. I'm so glad you took up the offer…” Mrs. Baker says through the phone that she was their neighbor across the street, and Quinn needed a job for the week.

“No pr-problem, ma'am… annnny time…” Quinn says dejectedly

“...just ma-make sure the payment c-can come through after you come back, I apologize if I thound demanding in any way, it's just-”

“Oh no, it's fine, deary! I know how tough it is in your situation and I promise I'll pay you a very hefty sum!” Mrs. Baker interrupts, true to her words as usual. After further conversation and scheduling, Quinn hung up only for their younger brother, Johnathan, to run into the room with some scrabble on a word search that Quinn printed for him while they were on a phone call.

“Sissy! Sissy! Look! I did the word search!” He chirped excitedly while proudly holding up the scribbled word search, no actual word searching having been actually done. “Wow bubba… that's really great! You found all the words…” Quinn says with a tired tone, like some exhausted parent would to a kid after a long day of work. Only for an angry 13 year old named Sarah to come down with half finished half assed emo makeup, “Can you guys quiet down? You're ruining my brooding time… I swear I'm gonna kill you all one day…” the angsty teen says with malice and agitation, not wanting ever to admit that she was a little adored by the fact that her siblings were having such a wholesome moment.

“But sissa… why? We you're family!” Johnathan pleaded with puppy eyes so that Sarah couldn't muster up anymore empty death threats and walked out while scoffing to hide her hesitation. “Don't worry, bubba, she’s just… 13… you know how they get…” Quinn says while putting their hand on his shoulder “Well… I promise to always love you no matter what! Even when I'm 13!” Johnathan says with a big smile on his face before he hugs Quinn tightly. They pat his back affectionately.

“Hehe, sure bu-bubba… hey how a-about we go-go get some dinner? Mac n cheese sounds good t-to you? Maybe some tater tots to go w-with such a fine cuisine?” Quinn asks tiredly with a hint of playfulness to try and keep the mood light for the little boy. “Mac n cheese n tater tots!? YEAH! I'D LOVE THAT SISSY!” Johnathan cheers, throwing his arms in the air as Quinn ruffles his hair affectionately before Johnathan runs off to the living room to wait for dinner. Quinn walks upstairs and knocks on Sarah's door, “Go away” is the first response before they can even speak. “Hey, S-Sarah… I'm go-gonna make thome dinner… Do you want anyth’ng…? I could heat you up some hot dogs in a dog with ketchup…” Quinn offers, a nostalgic and warm tone in her voice as she refers to the Hot Dog Slic'r Sarah used to looove eating out of as a kid.

“What? No! That's too stupid for me. Go away!” Sarah repeats her teen phase phrase once more through the door.

“Okay… just let me know if you wanna let me in…” Quinn says the last part quietly enough for Sarah not to hear before walking downstairs to prepare dinner for Johnathan… not before they catch a glimpse of what he's playing on the Xbox, of course. “Hey bu-bubba, turn that off…” They say, taking the controller and exiting out of the game, causing the young boy to protest. “HEY!! Daddy gave me that game…” Johnathan protested as Quinn took the game out of the disc tray to see he was playing Fallout… God damnit… Quinn's gonna need to talk to Dad later tonight.

“Thorry bubba, but this game isn't a very good g-game…” “Is it a naughty game like the Auto Theft game?” Johnathan questioned innocently, referring to the time Dad gave him a copy of GTA… he got an earful that day… “Yes, Bubba, it's a naughty game… it’th only for the adults.” Quinn says tiredly. It's obvious that they're pissed with the game selection that was given this time.

It was common for this cycle to happen, where Johnathan begins asking for attention from Dad, Dad get’s aggravated and hands him a random game or thing so he can leave. At first it started out with a doll that to this day, Johnathan still keeps and snuggles with, and now it’s stuff like Fallout and GTA and even fucking Borderlands… okay maybe Borderlands isn’t exactly bad but it’s not meant for toddlers. “Look, I'll geeet you a n-new game thometime thoon, okay? I promise it'll be-be a good game…”

“You say that every time, sissy… when am I gonna get the new Sonic game?” Johnathan peeped with a pouty lip and big eyes, melting Quinn's heart internally and making them feel a little bad for not getting enough money to do so because of college. “I-I know bubba, a-and I'm so-sorry… I-I promithe I'll get you the m-m-money… in the meantime… wanna make me a drawing?” Quinn offers, brightening the little boy's face very quickly. “Do I!? HECK YEAH!” He shouted as he got up and pulled out the art box and got right to work immediately. Leaving Quinn to go cook dinner peacefully without the worry of their little brother being exposed to virtual strip clubs, which boosted the flavor of dinner! The tater tots had Johnny seasoning with ketchup on the side, and the Mac n cheese had hotdogs in them. How elegant!

“Bubba! Dinner!” They called out to the living room, setting the dinner table for him as he ran in. “Woah, bubba, thlow down… wh-what’s got you excited?” Quinn asks, holding an excited and energetic Johnathan by the shoulders. “Look! Sissy! I made you a drawing! Do you like it?” He asks, holding up a cute drawing of the three together, Sarah wearing her emo clothes and a >:( face, Johnathan smiling widely with a big :D, Quinn has a soft smile and drawn bags under their eyes and their father lies in the far right without a face… “He-Hey bubba, why doethnnn’t Daddy h-have a fathe?” Quinn asks, a little concerned. “Because we don't see Daddy often, so I couldn't give him a face…” the little boy says with a sad look on his face. “Aww, bubba, don't worry…wh-why don't you go eat your dinner, and I-I'll tuck you into b-bed and read y-you a bedtime story…” Quinn says, folding the picture and tucking it into their pocket as Johnathan sits at the table and eats dinner happily.

Quinn is sitting in the kitchen… alone… they've tucked Johnathan into bed, and Sarah's already asleep, so now Quinn waits to… discuss matters with Dad. “Being alone is weird…” Quinn thought to themself silently, a pit in their stomach from the silence, and they drank their monster.

Not from the monster or the lack of food… but from… another feeling… a sense of power? Maybe. A time to think? No. The time for their mind to run with… thoughts? Yes. Absolutely. Their mind was running with questions… “Why are we here” “Why do we still care?” “What are you gonna do after you graduate?” “What purpose will you have after this?”

These thoughts buzzed through their mind, setting down their energy drink. They sit by the sink, arms spread and sitting by the side edges of the sink while staring out the window and out into the forest… their heart pounding but deathly still at the same time and a shaky, dizzy feeling taking over… the thoughts buzz louder. “Why won't he talk to you” “Why does he ignore you?” “How come he started ignoring you after it happened?” Quinn holds up a knife from the knife stand near the sink, looking into the reflection “What are you going to do about ⍓⌾⍓?” Their thoughts are cut off by the front door opening and closing, the shuffling of keys and a groan… Dad’s home… Quinn takes a deep breath, puts the knife away, takes a swig of their Monster and walks into the living room.

“Oh… hello Quinn…” Dad says, a little surprised but too tired to express it more than a slight eyelid lift.

“Hey Dad…” Quinn says awkwardly. Talking to Dad is like meeting with an office job boss because you need a raise. “Whatcha need, kiddo? You usually don't stay up this late…” he points out, breaking Quinn out of their racing thoughts. “Oh. Ahem… D-Dad… Di-Did you give Johnathan a-a-a copy of F-Fallout?” They question his choice of entertainment for the young boy. “Oh? Is that what I gave him? How was it? Did he have fun?” he pulls out of his lips like it were another breath of air, using the same excuse to avoid the issue at hand. “D-Dad…” Quinn takes a step closer to where Dad is sitting. “...Johnathan is 6 yearth old… 6 ye-yearth old. You gave hi-him a g-g-game about nuclear war!” Quinn had heard of Fallout and how good the game is, but they never bothered to do more research after hearing all the dark humor from it… it always bothered Quinn, laughing at a joke about death…

“Yeah…? And…?” Dad questions, breaking Quinn from thought once more before they speak up. “6 y-y-year olds aren't thuppothed t-to be playing ga-games about nuclear war… and that o-other time you g-gave him GTA-” “DON’T… get me started�� I know GTA was the limit but don't use it as some iron fist over what I give to Jimmy…” Dad yells before stopping himself and lowering his tone. “It'th… Johnathan…” Quinn corrects him. This had been going on for a while now.

“Johnathan… right… sorry…”

“Don't apologize. I know you work hard to put food on the table but I'm the one preparing it… I put en-enough time in taking c-c-care of the two and I'd really prefer iiiiit if you didn't give him games m-meant for adult-th… or ignore him… then you wo-wo-wouldn't “accidentally” give him inappropriate games.” They explain intently, trying to explain why it's improper and a little aggravating to have to watch over the kid's shoulder every two seconds out of fear that he'll end up seeing porn or something.

“Okay. Fine… I won't give him any more inappropriate games… Plus, I have plans next Wednesday… go- “Get you a beer? Already on it…” Quinn says before he can finish, grabbing him a beer and cracking it open for it, knowing that when he wants a beer, he has plans… usually the good kind… it's a good sign!

“We have a dinner party planned for next Wednesday, I want smoked salmon, mashed potatoes, and boiled carrots…” He explains after taking a swig of the beer. “Sweet, next Wednesday… any thpecific occasion? Is anyone coming over?” Quinn asks while writing down the plans on the fridge, Dad takes another swig of beer before answering.

“҉A҉҉n҉҉d҉҉r҉҉e҉҉a҉ will be coming over…” The name froze Quinn in place as their blood ran cold at the name.

“...what… did… you say…?” Quinn forced out with a voice shaking from rage and fear. “...҉A҉҉n҉҉d҉҉r҉҉e҉҉a҉… Y'know… your-”

“I know who she is… why are you bringing her here?” They asked with malice in their tone, it’s increasingly obvious that Quinn is infuriated with Dad now… “Well… there’s some business and I thought, maybe it’s be nice to talk to her after she-”

“I KNOW WHAT SHE FUCKING DID! That’s why I don’t want her coming near Johnathan or Sarah. I don't care if it's business or family reasons, I don't want her in our fucking house or even knowing where we live.” They explain with a hint of anger but concern in their voice, trying desperately for this to be canceled.

“Look, kiddo, I know it's a lot to take in, but I think it might be healthy! Plus this business opportunity means I might be able to spend more time with the kids!” He groans out, the last part bringing surprise and a hint of… hope? In Quinn’s eyes. This meant they could finally focus on life… they could… live a better life… but in return… it would mean having to deal with ⍓⌾⍓… and… having to talk to her after so long… “....Fine. Next Wednesday, dinner party, smoked salmon, mashed potatoes, and boiled carrots. Don't expect me to be kind to her…” Quinn repeats the plans before walking upstairs angrily, going to bed and staring at the ceiling.

Why the fuck must he behave like this? He’s such a stuck up asshole… always thinking about himself… but this wasn't just for him… this was for them… this was for Johnathan and Sarah and them… maybe… this… won't be so bad…

Quinn always has dreams of memories… nothing changes… no fictional situations… they dream of memories…

“Happy birthday toooo youuuuuuuu~!” The party cheers to Sarah, who blows out her candles and is greeted with applause and smiles from her friends and two family members. Sarah is digging into her precious, sugar pumped cake while Quinn makes sure to wipe off the mess of the toddler Johnathan's face.

“Hey Quinn… when will Dad show up?” Sarah suddenly questions, realizing he hasn't come like be promised. “H-He'll be here soon, thweetie…”

“Huc-huc-huc-He'll be heyear Thoon Thweetie!” One of the kids walks up, mocking Quinn's stutter and lysp.

“Hey, I swear he's gonna come! You'll meet my dad, my sister and I will prove you wrong!” Sarah exclaimed, pointing at the three kids with a pouty lip, staring daggers at the leader of the group, Roy.

“Yeah? And what if he doesn't? Hmm? What happens then?” Roy points out, before there's a knock at the door.

“See? I told you! Dad's here!” Sarah shouts to the party as she bolts to the door, expecting her father to be at the front door with a party hat and gift like some cliche you'd see in a drama. When she opens the door, she only sees the mailman, who hands her a post card from the town a few hours away from here, signed her dad's name… it was just some cheap card for her, not even a $20 bill was attached to it!

“Aww, did Daddy not show up? What is that? He didn't even write to you? Just a signature? So lame!” Roy grabs the post card and dangles it in front of her face while teasing her. The other party members join and begin poking fun at her.

“So lame! I have my Mom and Dad come to my parties!”

“That's so pathetic! He didn't even address it to you! It just says something about safe travels! So stupid!”

“No wonder why her Dad didn't show up! I wouldn't have shown up to her birthday party either if I knew she was such a crybaby!”

The last statement sent Sarah running upstairs, sobbing as she shut her door.

“Everyone but Roy is now required to leave, I need to have a chat with him, and the party is over, and none of you are ever coming back.” Quinn stated, forcing everyone out the door except Roy.

“Is… something the matter, miss?” Roy trembled out of his nervous mouth, the same mouth that spoke words harsh enough to ruin Sarah's special day, and words harsh enough to make Quinn quiver with rage.

“You have… no-no idea. No idea how long it took for Tharah to p-p-plan this out, how hard it’th been having to re-reassure her that Dad would show only to be met with this thing!” Quinn snatched the post card from Roy's hands, holding it up to his face as they cracked their joints.

“I-It was just a joke, miss! It was harmless I swear-”

“HARMLESS!? WH-WHAT ABOUT MA-MA-MAKING FUN OF SARAH ON HER BIRTHDAY B-BECAUTHE HER FATHER DI-DIDN’T SHOW UP ITH ‘H-HARMLETH’ TO YOU!?” they snapped back, interrupting Roy and shoving him back a little.

“I want you to know…” They leaned down to Roy’s level, their arms dangling as they gave Roy a blank, cold, and life threatening stare, “...I want you… to know… to never… EVER… go near Sarah… again… or nobody will ever find you again.”

Quinn opened the door and threw him out as Roy scrambled away before they shut the door.

“yawn… what time is it…?” Quinn yawned out, waking up while getting up from bed, checking the time. “Oh shit we’re gonna be late!” They quickly got up and threw on their vintage 1990's Korn tour shirt from their album, “Follow the leader”, a gray, hoodless coat they always wore with this weird smiley face on it and some baggy cargo pants. They got everyone up and prepared them all for school.

“I'll be fine… Leave me alone, mom.” Sarah mocked Quinn for double checking everything, before they send her and Johnathan to their bus and Quinn quickly runs to their car, fumbling with their keys.

Quinn was able to arrive on campus, on time. Thank god… they managed to make it to their lecture before it began, pulling out their notebook and pen, sitting next to their friend, Rae.

“...took you long enough…” He mumbled, pulling out his snack bag and holding out a baggy of some warm bacon, Quinn took it and devoured it in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah? T-T-Try packing up for school for an angsty teen thithter who ha-hates you and a younger b-b-baby brother who loves you to death and balance th-that with taking care of yourthelf…” Quinn snapped back playfully at him, causing Rae to smirk.

“Typical Quinn… your Dad really needs to get his shit together, hell, convince him to hire a nanny or something…” He suggested, causing Quinn to sigh.

“I told you already, we can't afford it, I-I-I don't wanna leave my thiblings alone with thomeone I barely kn-kn-know, and I want Johnathan and Sarah t-to be able to be around their dad… mainly me… mo-more often.” Quinn grumbled out, they had discussed this with him on numerous occasions and the suggestion was a bit old at this point.

“Dude, if you ever need a break, just hit me up, I'm always down to help you out. You deserve a break every now and again, you stress yourself out over literally everything. College, jobs, family, hell I can barely balance two of those and I still manage to take care of myself…” Rae lists off all of Quinn's responsibilities, a smirk ever so present on his face as he pulls put a family sized bag of chips and eats them.

“...I swear you're gonna put yourself in a coma one of these days…” Quinn sighed, half joking and half aggravated… before they remember something. “Hey I ha-have a d-d-dinner party ne-next Wednthday, you're not invited-”

“Damn…” Rae chuckled, interrupting Quinn and making them giggle a little before continuing

“As I w-wath thaying… I-I have to ho-ho-housit for Mrs. Baker for a f-few days… A-And I was wondering… if y-you could ba-babysit Sarah and Johnathan fo-for tho’the few dayth…?” Quinn asked of Rae politely, this had been the first time in a while that they asked Rae of anything, which made him ecstatic!

“Of course! Anything for you man, you deserve it!” Rae exclaimed quietly, patting them on the back before their teacher walked in, beginning the lecture.

It was time for sculpting, or creative time as their teacher liked to call it… Quinn had been working on a mask, the glue and water drenched paper clinging to the frail wire base with ease. Wasn't the first mask they made and surely won't be the last, lost in memory as they worked peacefully… this was supposed to be their peaceful class. The others were so full of noise it would give them a headache.

But of course, it couldn't have been, the peace interrupted by a unfamiliar voice. Now in front of Quinn was a damn dork, a smug grin on his face, as if he's found an easy target. “What are you l-looking at-t-t?” Quinn hissed, not wanting to have been bothered.

The boy grinned more, gods, could he have been any more stupid? “an idiot with a Thpeethimbediment” he mocked out, a snicker echoing behind his voice.

“Yeah? A-And wh-who would that be…?” Quinn questioned cluelessly, they'd never been able to deal with bullying aside from defending others and Quinn already struggled with taking care of themselves enough.

“You, idiot.” He retorted, but honestly it was pathetically whimpered out. His posture tensing in a defensive way.

“W-What? I-I might h-have a speech i-i-im-impediment but I-I'm no an idiot…” Quinn whispered, feeling self conscious and unintentionally boosting the dick in front of them's ego.

The random boy now supported himself like a cartoonist superhero, his smug smile returning to his face at the “win”.

Quinn goes back to working on their mask, unsure of how to handle this situation, references to heavy metal makeup pulled up on their stood up phone.

The boy looked a bit dejected now by how swiftly he was dismissed and attempted to recover but soon poked the wet mask right under the modeled lips. Purposefully making a semi-permanent mark now just for attention.

“Wha- Hey!! What was that for? You f-fucked up my m-mathk!” Quinn snapped at him, an agitated look on their face that just made the douchbag's day.

He let out a small laugh, “do what? I didn't do anything.”

“B-But… I just watched you! Y-Y-You jutht poked m-my mask!” Quinn countered, confused by the bully's behavior and tone. Thankfully, the teacher noticed after the shout, swiftly ushering the unknown boy out of the class and telling him to go back to his firmly.

“I’m so sorry about that, Quinn. If you want, you can have a restart and some extra time to finish your project since he vandalized it…” the teacher apologized, offering a free restart and extra time to complete the mask.

“Yes pleathe thir… I would ab-absolutely appreciate th-that.” Quinn accepted with a warm smile, still put off by the experience… even though it was minor… it reminded Quinn of something that they didn’t want to think of at all…

Quinn drives home, they’ll have time to finish the mask on Monday, it’s a holiday this Friday and they have babysitting duty on Saturday and Sunday… Monday and Tuesday will be the extra days to finish it. Quinn arrives at the elementary school, picking Johnathan up since Sarah’s school runs longer than both theirs and his.

“How was your day, bubba?” Quinn smiled at him through the rearview mirror as he got in the backseat, bouncy and bubbly as ever.

“Sissy! Sissy! I got an A on my math assignment!” He exclaimed with excitement and joy in his big bright eyes, handing them a math assignment. “Wow bubba, that’s great! Guess where th-this is going?” Quinn questioned teasingly, them and him knowing exactly where it’s going. “THE FRIDGE!” Johathan threw his arms up with a wide grin, giggling and clapping his hands.

Ringalingaling! Ringalingaling!

“Oh- Sorry bubba, one sec, it’s thitha’s school…” Quinn picked up the phone, Johnathan watched as their slight smile went from a reminder of the joy of today to a worrying frown. His little brother instincts kicked in and he questioned profusely as they hung up and began driving.

“Sissy? What’s wrong? Why are you sad?” Johnathan tilted his head, his smile now gone and replaced with concern and curiosity.

“It’s Sarah… s-sheeeee’s in t-trouble…”

They sat down in the principal’s office, next to Sarah, and don’t worry, Quinn left Johnathan in the car with water, snacks, air conditioning, a few fidget toys and their favorite music playing.

“Miss Devore, it has been brought to my attention that your sibling, Sarah Devore, has been causing a ruckus on school grounds.” The principal spoke firmly and mannered, staring daggers at Sarah while Quinn sat there confused, looking back down at Sarah before looking back at the principal.

“Wh-Whaddya mean? H-How i-i-is she cauthing a r-ruckuth?” Quinn asked with concern in her eyes, Sarah had her arms crossed, looking away and not making eye contact with either of them.

“...Today… she got into a very nasty fight… Two kids ended up in the ER and one kid managed to only get a broken wrist and nose.” The principal said calmly, almost with a smirk on her face as if she enjoyed putting down Sarah and giving her the light of the villain.

“S-Sarah? Wh-”

“THEY STARTED IT! IT'S NOT MY FAULT!” Sarah snapped, sitting up and pointing at the principal. “And? You didn't speak up to anyone about it, I assume…?” The principal accuses oder Sarah, her smirk a little more apparent now as Sarah fumes.

“Woah woah! C-Calm down! Thettle down…” Quinn tried to defuse the tension between Sarah and the principal. “Sarah… I understand that y-you might have been acting i-i-in self defense but that's n-no excuse for what you did!” Quinn tells off Sarah, causing the principle to make a smug remark. “That’s right Sarah… what you did was baaaad… tsk tsk tsk… you-”

“I underthtand that Sarah m-messed up but p-p-putting her down is NOT the way to go about things… m-maybe it’s your fault that s-she doesn’t feel safe enough to o-open up to you!” Quinn accuses, Sarah silently and unoticably celebrates her small victory while the principal’s demeanor falters.

“H-How dare you? Do you even know how hard I work on this school? Whipping these hellions into shape everyday…” The principal goes off, agitation apparent in her voice as she speaks.

“I’m not s-sure if I should take the whipping part theriouthly or not but you don’t seem t-to understand… Sarah doesn’t fight or break people’s boned un-unless she- she was either in imminent danger, or s-she reaches her GOD DAMN limit!” They slam their hand on the principal’s desk, almost as if they were slamming facts onto that same desk for the bitch in front of them to see and acknowledge.

“It'th YOUR fault for n-not creating a t-thafe environment for your students… And clearly Sarah didn’t feel safe e-enough twitch to talk to you about i-it!” Quinn shouted while pointing at the principal, looking down at their nameplate, “Karen Shnider” was plastered in bold, gold letters. God damnit, even her name is assholey…

“M-Miss Devore, please calm down-” The principal was cut off once more. “I don't wa-wanna hear it! The m-mere fact that y-you'd punish Sarah f-for something a-as basic as self defense, then do not speak to me “calming down” because I will now gladly take Sarah o-out of school e-early for the day now, thank y-you very much!” Quinn proclaimed, quickly filling out the forms and pulling Sarah out of the school by the wrist two hours early. They quickly load up in the car, Sarah is met in the backseat with a cheese dust covered Johnathan.

“Hi sissa!” He smiles at her, she slumps against the window while Quinn drives the two home.

They unload from the car, Quinn sets up SpongeBob on the TV, and sets down Minecraft by the Xbox in case Johnathan wants to do something else while Quinn and Sarah talk, he knew how to change discs and he loved Minecraft.

“...So you gonna do the “YoU'rE nOt AlOnE” talk or the “YoU aLwAyS hAvE mE tO tAlK tO” talk already?” Sarah asks, obviously bored and aggravated at the idea of having to talk to Quinn seriously.

“...No.” Quinn states bluntly, worry and concern quivering through their voice as they hold back tears. “The talk we're going to have is “you tell me what's going on” so I can understand what I need to do better…”

“...what?” Sarah was a little stunned, her soft side showing slightly through her expression as she relaxes her muscles, uncrossing her arms while standing straight.

“You heard me…” Quinn looked up, their face red from holding back worried sobs “...T-Tell me what's been go-going on. You've shut me out for a year and a h-half, and YOU D-DON'T EVER-EVEN TRY to talk to me anymore… I thought that… ma-maybe you were j-just growing away f-f-from me… that… you just w-wanted some space… but… in t-that I-I never knew what could've g-gotten you in s-such trouble… tell me…” they cry out, putting their hands on Sarah's shoulders and looking her in the eye. All while Sarah darts her eyes away repeatedly.

“...” Sarah stays silent before finally responding. “...They… They've been bullying me for a long time… I kept on getting back at them… the one kid… Roy… he… he was insecure… and… I was strong… so… I started bullying him…”

Sarah managed to choke out, holding back tears and sobs, wanting to just break down in Quinn's arms but too scared to do so. Quinn squeezed their fists until their knuckles were white. Quinn was angry, but they didn't know who.

“Look… I-I'm not mad at you… but… thinthe you got a FULL W-WEEK supension, you're g-grounded for the week, no outings, you're doing chores, AND no TV or devices U-UNTIL I thay otherwithe… d-do you understand?” Quinn stated firmly, getting a grumpy nod from the teenager in front of them before they walked downstairs and found Johnathan innocently building a house on Minecraft.

“Sissy! Look! I builded a house!” Johnathan exclaims while pointing to the screen, showing a quaint, little house.

“Aww… that's so ssssweet!” Quinn says, before a few villagers walk into it, causing Johnathan to pout at the sight

“No!! Bad villagers!” Johnathan shouts as he activates creative mode and lights the village on fire, causing Quinn to shut off the game.

“J-Johnathan… I-I think that'th enough video games for t-the day…” Quinn says, pulling out the toy box and finding a coloring book for Johnathan and some crayons. They walk off to prepare dinner, something a little more clean cut… “Hey Sarah, come downstairs to watch Johnathan while I make din-dinner!” They call down Sarah, for a moment there's no response but as if she suddenly remembered she was grounded she came downstairs and sat down in the living room couch, watching Johnathan begrudgingly.

Quinn couldn't stop thinking about the fire in Minecraft… it gave them… a strange feeling… maybe it was just the anxiety of Johnathan feeling a little inspired to do something irrational because if his video games. They'll limit his play time a little more now. But even still the idea of flames dancing up and down, side to side, was just… so…

“Hey sissy! Look!” Jonathan called over, breaking Quinn out of thought and causing them to run over, they thought that Sarah would either be neglecting her current duty or causing trouble. But instead they came across a very pleasant surprise…

Johnathan was sitting behind Sarah on the couch while she sat on the floor in front of him. Her hair was all braided up with bows and hair ties, almost comically bad and silly, sticking in every which way. “Sissa has pretty hair now!” Johnathan proclaimed, throwing his arms in the air with an expression of victory on his face while Sarah grumbled and pouted in protest.

“Aww, you t-two look tho thweet! Come here, I j-just made dinner for t-the two of y-y-you…” Quinn motioned for the two to follow them to the dining room, they both got up, and you can guess which one was jumping and chanting “Food! Food!” and which one was begrudgingly getting up and following with a pissed expression the way there.

Dinner had passed and it was about 8:55 PM, Quinn was out by the backyard, taking long drags of their cigarette. It was rare that they were able to smoke but when they did it was peaceful for them… usually… now instead it's filled with the soft, stomach emptying dread from being alone and a bored, sorta hopelessness feeling that coursed through their mind and soul. They looked into the forest that they used to play in when they were little. They felt as if they had some sort of missing memory… but they couldn't exactly price together this weird, missing feeling… they decided to stand closer to the forest, leaning against their fence while staring into the dark, moonlit forest… taking another drag and puffing smoke into the air, Quinn thought to themself, what was missing? God I just wanna know what was missing?

Their thoughts are interrupted by loud barking… the neighbor’s dog was being a shithead again. “Shoo! Go! Bad dog!” Quinn said loudly, hoping the damn neighbors weren't too stoned out of their mind to come and get their loud ass dog

They kept on shooing and waving off the dog, but to no avail… hell the neighbors didn't even come out to deal with it… damnit… they really are stoned out of their minds…

Quinn tried to go back to focusing on the woods, letting out another puff of smoke which only caused the damn pomeranian to bark even louder. Each little “Ark!” Louder and more ear piercing than the last…

Quinn finally snaps and kicks the dog, sending it flying across the yard, it whimpered and limped back in it's home while wincing. Quinn felt immense joy at the sight and sound but quickly ran inside, putting out their cigarette butt and running straight to bed…

“What the hell was that? Why did I…?” Quinn questions themself for a moment, exhaustion creeping up on them before they could finish their thought. Drifting into a deep slumber only half covered by their bedsheets.

It wasn't uncommon for Quinn to also NOT have any dreams… maybe faint shapes or sounds… it was practically normal for them to dream of little to nothing at all.

A tall, man. Not too tall… about 6 feet in height… with a grotesque smile permanently on his face… a faint childhood delusion for Quinn… the missing in the forest… “Quinn…” a raspy voice calls from the man, Quinn approaches and notices how burnt he looks, and his lack of eyelids… as he kneels down, they notice that he's holding his hand out, before he can speak again, Quinn is woken up by the sun peering through the window.

They sit Sarah and Johnathan down on the couch, it's Friday, holiday off for school and some jobs… and Quinn was gonna be housesitting for Mrs. Baker for the next few days, staying Friday and Saturday and coming back Saturday evening…

“Alright… Thara… Johnathan… I'm gonna be g-gone for the n-next few days, housesitting for Mrs. Baker. Now, someone I trust very much is going to be watching you…” Quinn explains to the two, causing Sarah to be a little offended…

“Wha- hey! Why can't I just be alone and watch Johnathan for you while you do your stupid job!? I'm 13! Hello??” Sarah demands, Quinn chuckles at her determination and aggravation.

“Because y-you can't twitch even make Mac n cheese without b-b-burning it…” Quinn retorted playfully, causing Sarah to stutter before she slumped back.

Knock knockity knock!

“Ah… that should be him!” Quinn walks over to the door and welcomes Rae inside, bringing him to the living room and introducing him to Johnathan and Sarah

“Everyone, this is R-Rae! Rae, that's Johnathan, and that'ssss Sarah…” Quinn introduces Rae, who's wearing his Invader Zim Gir jacket and holding a bag of things

“Huh… Johnathan and Sarah…” He says, pointing at the two and naming them incorrectly with a smug smile on his face.

“Hey! I'm not Sarah!” Johnathan proclaims, giggling and walking up to him and poking at him. “Oh? Then who are you?” Rae gasps, an obviously fake clueless tone in his voice as he kneels down

“I'm Johnathan, silly!” Johnathan giggles, causing Rae to let out an obviously fake confused noise. “Huh? But I thought she was Johnathan…?” Rae points to Sarah, causing the young boy he's kneeling down to to start giggling madly

“Alright… now Rae, I b-bought sommmme mac n cheese to make for some lunches, Sarah is grounded so she can't go out with her friends n-nor is thee to dithobey you. She'll help out with the chores around here and mak-k-ke sure Johnathan gets a good amount if entertainment.” Quinn explains like a mother worried about sending off their child to college. “Pfft. I'll be fine… we're gonna watch the Invader Zim DVD's I brought with me…” Rae snickers, Johnathan tilts his head.

“What's… Invader Zim…?” This, dear comment alone, causes Rae to let out an exasperated gasp of slightly fake shock.

“Y-YOU'VE NEVER HEARD OF INVADER ZIM? Oh boy! Are we gonna have fun!” Rae noogies Johnathan, Quinn let's out a soft chuckle, kneeling down to hug Johnathan tightly. “I'll see you in a few days, bubba…”

“I'll see you too soon… Sissy…”

“Now, deary, me and my hubby will be going on a delightful cruise… we should be back by Monday afternoon so feel free to leave after feeding the kitties, unless you don't receive a call from us that morning than stay. It means something either happened or we may be running late…” Mrs. Baker explains carefully, Quinn takes the information in while they're handed the keys to the house.

“Yes, Mrs. B-Baker, I promithe I'll take good care of Tiddiewinks and Sn-Snugglebums… they'll get their meds and I-I-I'll do the chores around the home… You'll come back perfectly fine after the t-trip and you won't have to worry about a thing.” Quinn reassures the worried elderly woman as her and her husband load up in the car. Now… they had the house… all to themselves as they explored the place. It was pretty big for two old people and their cats. Three bathrooms, four bedrooms, two whole living rooms on both floors, and, not to mention, the big ass TV and the feeling of being alone…

“Huh… hey bub-” Quinn was about to call out, only to remember that Johnathan is at home, watching some nickelodeon show about aliens and a robot dog with Rae.

Quinn wasn't used to being alone, they've always been with family or spending majority of their time doing something for family… and anytime they were alone there was this… pit that always just eating away from the inside in their stomach, working it’s way around like a parasite trying to make them sick. The feeling never stuck around for long since they’d go to sleep before it could finish itself or they’d end up being occupied by company.

“mroow…” the tabby cat called from behind, Quinn turned around and looked at it, expecting a warmth to bloom in their heart only to be met with a desire for something… they didn’t understand it but Quinn scratched behind the cat’s ears anyway, trying to push the gut eating feeling down as they fixed up the food bowls for the kitties. A white fluffy cat came down, both meowing in tune with the rattling bag of cat food.

As the cats ate happily, anyone but Quinn would awe at the sight… naturally at least… Quinn tried to seem adored by the sight of the cats eating and meowing happily. They couldn't help but stare at the sight, thinking back to that night when they kicked the poor pomeranian hard enough to cause a yelp of pain, the way they sickeningly and oddly enjoyed the sights and sounds of it… Quinn decided that they'd watch TV instead! Yeah!

Quinn plopped themselves on the couch, flicking between channels… eventually they stopped on the local news, watching as the reporters… uh… report stuff… yeah this was kinda boring to be honest… what wasn't boring and had broken the boring feeling, however, was when they began to announce a recent crime. Arson was commuted along with murder just a neighborhood down from where Quinn lived. But that didn't matter, what mattered was the overview sight of the whole crime scene.

Quinn watched the video play on screen, the flames dancing up and down, side to side as they consume the victims home, and before they cut the feed they were able to catch a glimpse of the hacked up, charred corpses within the burning building. Anyone would've grown sick at the sight unless they either had a tough stomach that could handle the worst of sights or they were a twisted, sadistic nutcase…

“Mraaaooowww…” one of the cats called out, Quinn turned to them almost angrily, upset that their sick fantasies were interrupted by this cats need for… God what was it the spoiled bastard even needed? It was fat, plump, and knew nothing of the responsibilities that they had to face on a daily. It just sits around, pissing and shitting and eating and sleeping. Quinn pushed the cat off the couch aggressively, chuckling as it yelps in surprise.

“Aww, doeth the poow k-k-kitty need it meddy weddies? Fine. I'll g-g-get you your d-damn medic-cation…” Quinn said begrudgingly, getting the cats their meds and making sure they're fed the right amount.

Quinn turns the TV off and heads to the room with the biggest bed. Collapsing onto it. Why were they so angry? Why did they sound as if they were threatening a damn cat!? Why did… Quinn think about when they kicked a dog…? The racing thoughts only fueled Quinn's unknown and surprising exhaustion, making them fall into a deep slumber.

“Sissy! Sissy! Look! I found a dandy kitty!” Johnathan called out, holding up a fuzzy dandelion to their face. “Sissy, what did you say to do with dandy kitties?” Johnathan asks Quinn, to which they softly smile.

“You blow the f-fluffy fairies away from the d-d-dandy kittieth and make a wish… then your dreamth'll come t-t-true…” Quinn explains again, causing Johnathan to blow the dandelion’s “fairies” away from the “dandy kitties” and silently make his wish.

Quinn looked up at the sky, the clouds flying by, the warmth of the sun, it's almost distracting enough for Quinn to nearly not notice Johnathan running deep into the forest. They get up and following after him, expecting him to come running back.

Quinn walks through the forest for a few minutes, walking by stranded newspapers… “Woods family… murdered… eldest son… missing…” are the only words they caught from these papers. The newspapers must've flown from the town nearby, since they had been freaking out about this news for the past few days, missing flyers for the oldest son that had disappeared flying by as well from the all the wind that had been rustling the trees.

Quinn felt their head begin to spin, sleep deprivation due to nightmares and and fear from death threats received by… her… no, Quinn shook their head, they didn't wanna think about it… not in the slightest… seeing eyes on the trees, their eyes darting to look only to see them disappear. Hearing voices and turning to see them only for them to quiet down and appear in another direction. After spinning and searching desperately they stop as they stare at the towering man before them.

He smiled. Widely. Almost unnaturally, as he made long, exasperated steps towards them. Their spinning head wasn't able to tell them whether or not it was a figment of their imagination or it was a real threat. Whispers in every direction were the one thing keeping them entranced as the man approached. Suddenly, a chirpy, little voice squeaked behind them.

“Sissy! I missed you!” Johnathan declared while hugging them tightly, Quinn looked to see the man only to find he was gone… who… was he…?

Was he… even real…?

Quinn woke up in bed… an odd memory to dream of… the sun glared in their face as they checked the date, Saturday… they have today, Sunday and half a Monday to get through. They got up and stretched, they walked downstairs and prepared to make breakfast only to remember they don't have their little brother and sister to care for… they don't have their father to worry about… just… them.

They decided to make themselves breakfast for once, over-easy eggs and some crisp, juicy, delectable bacon. They didn't know how to describe it but bacon was probably the best thing ever in their existence (aside from their family), that plus waffles and syrup and a few eggs with a monster energy? God that's the closest to heaven they've felt in years, it feels great to be taking care of themselves for once.

They fed the cats, as usual, and sat down on the couch… now with nothing to do and much more energy than they knew what to do with. They went out to the backyard, seeing the tall fence that the Bakers put in only made Quinn feel even more free of judgment than they had ever felt before. Quinn happily lit a cigarette and took a long drag before sighing as the smoke floated through the crisp, morning air. Who knew housesitting away from your siblings would be so peaceful?

“Mroooww…” the same call echoed from behind, Quinn turned around and scowled at the sight of the tabby behind them. “Oh… thpoiled brat… w-whaddya wannnt…?”

“Mrrp…” it purred, rubbing against their leg repeatedly, only for Quinn to kick it away while giggling. “Hehe… aww… d-d-does kitty want a-a cuddle b-buddy? I d-don’t think tho…” Quinn mocked as they kicked the cat again, this time with the intention of just hearing it hiss and and cry in pain once more… it's only when their phone rings that they stop and put out their cigarette. Once they pick it up they hear a familiar, chirpy voice on the other end with a familiar and goofy chuckling.

“Oh hiiii b-bubba! How are youu…?” they responded, walking inside and almost feeling a bit scared and… sad about kicking the cat. Why now we're they feeling regret for hurting the cat…? Was it because they could've been caught? Was it that they were afraid of what Johnathan would think?

“I'm watching Invader Zim! I love Gir! He's just like me!” Johnathan giggles, Quinn smiles softly at his happy little voice, a warm feeling in their chest as they hear Johnathan ramble on about Invader Zim and waffles and Gir and how awesome he is and how much they relate. All while Quinn listens intently. Now they knew why they suddenly felt bad… they didn't want to hurt the people they loved… they couldn't imagine the idea of Johnathan, poor, sweet innocent Johnathan having to witness such things… not because they felt bad about being caught but… because they had someone they genuinely cared for.

“Hey… Johnathan, I-I-I know it's been a nice talk but I need t-to t-talk to Rae for a bit… just to see how you guyth are holding up without me…” Quinn requests, receiving “awws” and “I don't wanna stop talking yet's” until he begrudgingly says “bye” and hands Rae the phone.

“Heya, can you smell the excitement? I sure can… I hope you can see all the vibrant colors plastered on Johnathan's face…” Rae almost immediately stated, getting a weirded out response from Quinn.

“Rae what the hell d-d-does that even mean? We're on a phone call, not a fathetime… and whaddya m-mean “Vibrant colorth”? D-Did you paint his f-face?” Quinn questioned, almost demandingly as if a Mom just found out their teen son did something they weren't supposed to do.

“Well I gotta go now seeya!” Rae hung up, before calling again and Quinn to pick it up with a soft smile and an eye roll. “Tho… how are they? Is Sarah doing what she's told? Is J-Johnathan behaving? Is he e-eating well? Is-”

“Yeah, yes to all of those questions. Sarah is behaving very well, Johnathan is behaving and eating well, and we're all fine.” Rae retorts with a playfulness in his tone, easing Quinn's anxieties and fears.

“G-Good… I-I’m actually th-thurprithed that Sarah’s b-behaving at all… s-she usually listened t-t-to you…” Quinn explained, hints of skepticism and slight relief in their voice as they spoke.

“Oh Sarah's great! She's friendly, does what she's told, and she's quite talkative as well!” Rae exclaims, Quinn felt a shiver run down their spine and a slight dizziness in their head.

She… never talks to me… anymore… why…?

“What… wait she's being… social with you??” Quinn questioned, disbelief now more than apparent in their quivering voice. It was a slight shake that the optimistic Rae hadn't noticed one bit due to how excited he was to talk about what Sarah told him. It wasn't uncommon for Rae to talk to people and get to know them for only a few minutes and somehow accidentally manage to get said person to spiel about their lives…

“Yeah! She's been telling me all about you and stuff! She's also told me all about how she feels about you as well… I'm not gonna share any details but she's said quite a lot-”

“Wow, that's g-great, I'll t-t-try and call back, theeya.” Quinn cut him off before he could finish, texting to him a short “sorry” to excuse the behavior.

Sorry I hung up, I had stuff to do and I might not respond cuz I'll be busy the next few days

As Quinn hung up the phone, they looked down at the cat in front of them, it meowed as it begged for treats and food and attention. All they could feel was a sense of dread and regret as they remembered how they had kicked the poor animal earlier. “I'm… sorry…” They muttered, squatting down to pet the cat affectionately, why did they enjoy it earlier? Why were they feeling regret?

“Maaaaaooowww..!” The tabby cat meowed behind them, nuzzling up to them cautiously as Quinn teared up… thinking about how Johnathan would like these kitties…

That was it… Johnathan… Quinn realized at that moment that Johnathan was the only thing keeping them together. Sure, he was a little annoying at times and was a full responsibility for them, but the idea of the little boy having to watch Quinn laugh as the cats yelped in pain was enough to let the tears fall. After all these years, seeing Johnathan smile from anything, whether it be treating the kitties right or feeding him his favorite meal (Mac n cheese with tater tots and chopped hot dogs), or even giving him a new video game… his little smile and chirpy voice saying “Thank you sissy!” Was the only thing keeping Quinn together after it happened… after she hurt them…

Quinn stood up and gave the cats a few treats, trying to shover the anger down their own throat as the walked back inside the house. They didn't want to think about her in the slightest, especially since she’ll be coming next Wednesday…

Shit! She's coming next Wednesday! Just four days away! The dinner party, the food they had to prepare, having to let Johnathan and Sarah get near her… there was no other option than letting it happen. No matter the stress or anger they felt, they had to let it happen… even after the last time they saw her…

The white, fluffy cat nuzzled up against their leg from behind, breaking Quinn out of thought, they felt the anger shooting throughout their body. They clenched their fists and and stared at the cat with a death glare. They weren't angry at the cat, but they were angry at their Dad and her… but they held it in… just walking into the bathroom and shutting the door, locking it before keeling over and puking in the toilet.

They got up, vomit dripping from their chin before they stand up and rinse their mouth out, splashing water on their face.

They stood straight and stared into the mirror, seeing a pale reflection of their depressing self. Bags under their eyes, greasy and messy hair, a dead look in their hazel eyes…

“Shower…” Quinn thought aloud, leaving the bathroom and going over to their duffle bag, grabbing some fresh clothes and heading back to the bathroom, turning on the shower and undressing. After the fact, they feel the water.

Warm

They step in, shutting the curtain and grabbing some shampoo, lathering it into their hair before standing under the running water, watching as the soap runs down their body and drips off their legs… letting their mind drift as the bubbles do through the water.

They hated the situation they were stuck in… not just the dinner party next Wednesday, but everything about their life so… heavy. At the helm of every moment, they didn't even get a chance to grow up all because of each and every little thing that they had to look over and take care of. Their childhood ripped away from themselves, all to give to their siblings whatever they could get… all to spoil them with the little money they had. And yet now that she is coming over. She is seeing their siblings. She is prying back into their life once again... Even Quinn subconsciously knew (but refused to acknowledge or even think of) that sooner or later they would snap.

Ah… time to condition their hair…

They carefully brush in the conditioner… why did the old people always have the most soothing scents? They let it sit in for a bit before they scrubbed the product out of their hair, moving onto scrubbing their body.

They shut off the water, stepping out and drying off. They put on their clothes and walked out of the bathroom, heading to the kitchen and grabbing some marshmallows from the pantry and sitting on the couch. They shoveled a few shmallows into their mouth before a noise broke them out of their trance.

“Mroooowww…” the tabby cat meowed, nuzzling against their leg as Quinn mourned their nonexistent childhood. They didn't even notice it until the cat clawed at their leg…

“Mrrp… mrrowp…” it purred before being pulled into a tight, tear filled yet silent hug. It continued to purr while Quinn sat there in constant thought of what there life had come to. They were stuck housesitting for a job… Quinn cleaned and cooked and took care of everyone and everything around them all except themselves.

Sure… they went to college…

They majored in art of any kind…

…

“What am I gonna do once it'th over?” They thought aloud… letting go of the cat as it calmly walked away to munch on some leftover kibble.

“What's g-gonna happen to me once I gr-graduate?” Quinn had begun to speak their mind to nobody and nothing at all. “What am I-I-I even going to do? Huh? What- What job am I going to t-t-t-take? What life am I going to live? What happenth once I-I get a real job? What…” They stopped in place, they didn't even realize they were pacing and they didn't care.

“What do I even want to do for a living?” They spoke aloud… this being, surprisingly, the first time they've even questioned what they wanted… Career-wise that is. What did they even want to be? Sure, they were majoring in art for their degree, they'd been working efficiently on their time in art! They'd loved doing art their whole life, hell, going to college and seeing Rae in class with a family sized bag of snacks to devour in an instant while talking over Quinn happily doing whatever art related tasks they needed/wanted to do was their big escape in life…

But why did they choose that? They could've chosen better routes in life! Hell, if they tried enough, they could be the CEO of some big company later in life! They'd be filthy rich, able to afford proper care for their siblings without struggle, and they'd all be happy…

The same could be said for their art career. Sure, they probably won't become much, but if they do they could afford the same amount (if not more) of comfort in life!

Quinn realized that being a famous or rich or even moderately paid artist wasn't what they wanted in life! They truly didn't know what they wanted because they chose their hobby to major in college rather than thinking of what they wanted to actually do.

It was all because they spent more time worrying and caring for everyone else around them… they spent more time sacrificing for others and getting very little in return. Even when they used this to their advantage so they'd get hired and paid to do these things for others and yet it would all go to their siblings.

Before they knew it, it was dawn… they sat down, realizing how wobbly their legs were and soon after got back up, as if sitting was useless to them in that moment. They put away the bag of marshmallows and filled the cat food bowls, along with the water bowl as well. They stumbled into the master bedroom of the house, nearly tripping over their bag when something shiny caught their attention…

A hunter’s knife, a beautiful thing indeed. It had amazing handle design, along with a freshly sharpened blade and a bird beak to hold it up (if ever hung). Quinn took it and put it back in it's sheathe, hiding it under the pillow they slept on that night. It helped then sleep a little better…

Recent events with being the murders and fires going around is enough to excuse this feeling of safety and… power I guess…

The next few days passed in a flash, the memory almost blurry and nonexistent to Quinn as they awaited on Monday for a call or for the old couple to return… they flicked on the news and they were left with… shock and questions.

“A horrific and tragic car crash has taken the media by storm, the local Mr. and Mrs. Baker have passed along with several others who had been caught up in the crash…” a clip from a jam cam plays in correspondence to the reporter. “Local experts say they could’ve seen a deer or some wild animal or that, just maybe, they weren't the best drivers. But nobody really knows for sure as the camera cuts out for a split second and suddenly everyone is caught in a whirlwind of disaster and death-” Quinn shuts off the TV.

“Sigh… i-it'th a g-good thing they pa-pa-payed me in a-advanthe…” They twitched as they sat up, grabbing their duffel bag, their knife, and drove away from the home.

A quick look in the rear view mirror showed Quinn a few cop cars and (presumably) cars of investigators.

“Sissy! Sissy! Look! I made a drawing of Gir! Isn't he so cool?” Johnathan peeped, holding up a drawing of a green robotic zipper dog next to a green alien with wide pink eyes. Quinn chuckled as they pat his head. “My, th-that's a wonderful d-d-drawing! Di-Did you have fun with Rae?”

“I HAD LOT’S OF FUN! I watched Invader Zim with him and sissa was lot's of fun too! We all watched Invader Zim and played games and-” Johnathan went on and on about all the fun they had until eventually Rae walked over with his belongings in a bag.

“Ah! Rae! Don't forget your Invader Zim DVD set-”

“You can keep it for now…” Rae interrupted Johnathan, to which the little boy gasped in joy. “REALLY!?? You'll let me keep it!???” He exclaimed, causing Quinn and Rae to chuckle. “Yeah… for now… I'll come over some other time and take it back though, but I promise I'll find you another full Invader Zim DVD set to keep…” Rae ruffled Jonathan's hair, to which be ran around and jumped while squealing with joy.

Quinn chuckled once again. “Jeez… you're go-good with kids and m-m-making them all excited…” Rae laughed in response to this. “Yeah… like you aren't a charm to them. You wouldn't be able to count the times conversations were driven away from whatever topic and directed to you and how awesome you are.”

The two joked for a bit, catching up with each other before eventually Rae left and Quinn sat down on the couch, causing Johnathan to tug on their shirt sleeve. “Yeah, bubba? What is-is it?” They asked, looking down and opening their eyes to see a soft smile on the little boy's face. “You're tired… go sleep… Sarah can play with me…” He stated bluntly, they looked down at Johnathan and looked over at Sarah walking in with a bowl of cereal. “It's okay… I can handle the gremlin…” She said softly yet with a tinge of “I'm trying to sound like I don't care” in her voice.

Quinn silently agreed and walked over to their room, stumbling away in exhaustion and sadness. They shut the door, shove their stained knife under their pillow and slept once more. Waking up two hours later and stumbling back downstairs.

They sat down on the couch, almost dosing off once again before realizing what Johnathan was watching.

“Local reports say that local law enforcement when first coming to the house found that the house was in a shriveled and unkempt state. Investigators say that their were more than enough signs that there were pets there. But no such animals were found upon arrival or further investigation-” Quinn shut off the TV, causing Johnathan to protest.

“Why did you turn it off. The lady was talking about the home you were at!” Quinn looked away guiltily, answering briefly. “Yeah… Mr. and M-Mrs. Baker… t-they came back and took t-their kitties t-to the cruise!” Quinn lied to his face, causing him to smile and agree.

“Wow! They must be having lots of fun now!” He giggled as he turned the TV back on and put on Invader Zim. Quinn stood up and walked away, guilt rummaging through the back of their mind as they entered the kitchen. They were prepared to make dinner but we're surprised to find Sarah making pimento cheese chicken bake for dinner.

“Oh hey! Rae taught me a buncha dinner recipes, so I can handle dinner for tonight and the next few nights! I heard there's gonna be a dinner party this Wednesday and-”

“Who told you that?”

Quinn looked up with slightly lifted eyes, almost scared and demanding tone in their voice. To which Sarah looked back with a raised brow. “The… family group chat…?” She stated, to which Quinn facepalmed. “Of course… I forgot there's a group chat…” Quinn thought to themselves, remembering the fact that the family had a group chat between them, Dad and Sarah.

“Who's coming over again?” Johnathan asked, walking into the kitchen to join Quinn and Sarah's conversation. To which Sarah answered that before Quinn could speak up.

“Someone named A҉҉n҉҉d҉҉r҉҉e҉҉a҉ or something… I think she's our-”

“She's nobody important. It's just business.” Quinn stated bluntly, the answer enough to convince Johnathan to go back to minding his own business. They breathed a sigh if relief when Johnathan left the room. And Sarah only seemed confused at Quinn's eagerness to ignore the upcoming event.

“Don't. Even… thpeak about it… ju-just… i-if you c-c-can go to the grothery th’tore on T-Tuesday for me, I-I'll drive you there bu-but… if you do it f-for me I-I'll let you ask me a f-few things about… her.” Quinn stopped Sarah before she could speak up, offering a deal that Sarah accepted gratefully.

Before Quinn could make it up the stairs, Sarah walks over. “Y-You don't wanna join dinner? I've been practicing cooking!” She called out to her sibling, only receiving a shake of the head, Quinn stops again when they hear Johnathan giggling and walking up to Quinn with his usual chirpy and squeaky voice.

“Sissy! Are you coming down? The food’s super yummy!” He declared with a smile on his face. Quinn felt their heart warm and changed their mind, turning around and coming downstairs with a smile on their face. “Sure… I'll join…” they chuckle as they sat at the dinner table.

They watched the two giggle and laugh and talk about whatever… a smile on Quinn's face as they occasionally threw in a laugh or a comment… things felt like they were back to normal… things felt like the old times, back when things were a little less tense and they were able to enjoy being together without a care in the world…

Monday came and went… going to college, going home, and with barely anything to care for (since Sarah had started becoming more productive around the house) Quinn simply went to bed a bit early… Tuesday came and was definitely slower than the last day…

They finally finished the mask they were working on, it was molded perfectly for their face and had a ravishing design. Imagine a frown, with droopy makeup resembling bands like KISS and Twiztid (that are just a little more drippy)...

They brought the mask home and hung it on their wall in front of their bed. They later took Sarah to the grocery store and got all of the supplies for the dinner party that would come the next day. They managed to avoid the topic of her on the way home with Quinn putting it off for tomorrow.

They went to bed… shaking in nervousness of what’s to come of tomorrow… she’s gonna be here… and little did Quinn know that this would be the last coherent and real dream that they would ever have again, this would be their last day of normalcy…

“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE HEATHEN!!” She shouted angrily at a young, 6 year old Quinn, chasing them up the stairs with a glowing hot iron rod from the tools by the fireplace. Their father followed behind her, trying to convince her to stop only to relieve a slap to the face that nearly pushed him down the stairs…

Quinn was hiding on the other side of the bed, fearfully hoping that this would all end so they don't have to be stuck here… crying and helpless… all of this had started because Sarah was born… and she wanted to keep her, them, and their father here. But the divorce papers that needed to be signed said otherwise… Quinn was always under the blame for this for whatever reason that… Mother decided was best…

She finally makes her way to the room, looking down at the shivering Quinn in the corner with dagger eyes and the still burning rod clutched in her hand… “Little heathen… you really think you could hide behind your pwetty wittwe bed?” She taunted, walking around the bed, preparing to do the worst.

She swung the rod, missing and only cutting Quinn's right cheek as their father began to struggle with her… Quinn ran out of the room, running to Sarah's crib and pulling her out of their, they ran out of the house and to the police…

Of course… she was only held in jail for about 30 days because they barely even believed that a woman would even hurt their husband and children…

Years had passed, their father worked effortlessly to afford them all they could after they managed to get a restraining order against her after Johnathan was born… to which they had to move away again… Sarah lost most of her friends and began to shut herself away… their father could barely even look at Johnathan considering how he was even conceived…

Quinn woke up from the dream, sitting up and staring up at their hung mask. As if they were looking for answers for how to avoid all of this happening again…

They got out of bed, got dressed in their usual fit, and left to drop off the kids at school. After the fact, they made their way to the campus. Heading to class as per usual. Sitting next to Rae without even greeting him back…

“...You nervous?” He asked, causing Quinn to snap their head up. Looking at Rae with a dead look in their eyes.

“...what?”

“...you heard me… you good…? You don't seem… well.” Rae stated once more, a concerned and sympathetic look in his eyes. Quinn’s eye twitched in response, a scowl spreading across their face, bringing a much darker shade to their eye bags.

“N-N-No. I'm no-not fine, Rae. I-I feel like shit.” They hissed at him, he looked at them with a soft look in his eyes. Like a parent would with a child crying because they broke a glass of milk on the floor on accident.

“H-Hey calm down, I know things have been stressful now-” “Oh y-you care now, d-dontcha? Huh!?” They snapped, not yelling but indeed raising their voice.

“I've been handling my s-s-siblings for God knows how long, stressing over a d-dinner party with her and f-fucking worrying over my life’s future! H-How have you not n-noticed that I'm not o-okay!? I-”

“Hey, calm down. I know it's been rough recently, but please, not right now, you don't need anymore stress.” Rae quiets them down, managing to at least get pure silence for the rest of the day… Rae tried to talk to them after the fact but got a sour response.

“Quiet. Leave me alone. I d-don't wanna talk.”

Quinn made it home. Thinking about how badly they wanted to call Rae and apologize to him… but for some reason they couldn't bring themselves to pick up their phone and make the call.

Sarah and Johnathan were waiting in the living room after Quinn went to grab ahold (and conceal) their knife, they plopped down next to the two on the couch. Their Dad was gonna come home earlier than usual to prepare for the dinner party.

The silence was maddening, Johnathan bounced in his seat, excited to even spend time with them all while Sarah tried to think of ways to start conversations and possibly reconcile with everyone and Quinn desperately hopes some magical minimal kills her off so they don't have to worry about talking or dealing with her.

Why do I want… that to happen to her?

Their thoughts are cut short by a certain Dad walking into the home. “Alrighty, Quinn, get to preparing the salmon!” He tried to say in a cheesy, upbeat tone with finger guns and a shit eating grin on his face. Quinn nods and gets up, hoping to ask Sarah to help before Dad decides otherwise. “Sarah! Could you set up the table and do some decorations? Imma be upstairs preparing my outfit and looks for dinner! And Johnny! Little little Johnny!” He leaned over and booped his little nose, “Why don't you go help Quinn with din din?”

Johnathan happily accepts, Quinn stands there, dumbfounded and a little upset but not vocally protesting (the only protest being their facial expression). They all get up and head to handle their tasks, Sarah eager in decorating the dining room and table, and Johnathan having more fun than anyone in the house helping out with dinner.

“Sissy! Sissy!” Johnathan chirped up, Quinn took a deep breath, not wanting to lose face. They looked down at Johnathan with a strained and haphazard smile. “What's up…?” they croaked out, an exhausted tone in their dry voice. Johnathan smiled and yapped on and on, asking some miscellaneous question… Quinn could barely hear his yapping, as it was all a blur, each word passing by as a fuzzy reminder that they existed in this moment. When the question was finally asked and Johnathan noticed Quinn’s subconscious absence, he repeated their name over and over until the snapped back to realty.

“Hmm? Huh? What was it b-b-bubba?” They requested the repetition of the questions. Johnathan giggled before he asked once more, “How come I haven't ever seen mommy until now?”

…

shit… He found out…

They thought to themself, almost gasping aloud to the question… “U-Um… w-whaddya m-mean…?” They avoided answering, their voice quivering with a slight fear of what could happen… he could turn against them, he could get taken by her, he could-

“I mean like… I've never seen mommy until now… how come…?” He asked innocently, his eyes wide with curiosity and innocence, Quinn can’t help but answer this innocent question… “Sigh… well… there wath a lot of b-bad things that happened… and sh-she-she had to stay away… but I gu-guess she's coming for d-dinner now.” They stated, hoping he'll be sufficed with all these answers. “Now… Can you g-go g-get me the baby carrots, b-b-bubba?” They asked, done getting all the pots and pans out. Johnathan nodded and smiled, grabbing the baby carrots from the fridge. Quinn sighed in relief for a moment, believing that he was done with questions… but he was far from done, his curious little mind wanted to know everything about her.

“What's she like? Is she cool? What did she do?” he shit question after question, a smile still prominent on his face as Quinn was overloaded with information. “I-I-I- uh- uhm-” They put the carrots in the pot with hot water as the stuttered, turning in the stove. “Watch t-the stove for me b-b-bubba… S-S-Sissy needs a b-break…” they muttered as the ran up to their room, collapsing on the ground as they shut the door. They got up and sat down in their bed, pulling out their knife to clean it off… staring into the reflection of the blade as they put away their cloth… once again, they were met with the same thoughts and feelings that disgusted them. The same ones that they felt when they saw the fire from last week on the news, the same one that made them hate themselves because they didn’t want any harm caused to little Johnathan…

They walked downstairs, finding Johnathan watching the carrots intently. “Hey sissy! You were up for a while… I think they're done!” He chirped, Quinn smiled at his eagerness and innocence… ruffling his hair as they go back to fixing up dinner.

It was a long silence before Johnathan nearly forgot Quinn's evasion of the questions he asked earlier. He perked up and began to shoot questions at then again, they couldn't keep up at all… it was all building up into a horrible feeling… a horrible thought…

“Quinn! Hurry up! I'm gonna go get A҉҉n҉҉d҉҉r҉҉e҉҉a҉! Her car's broken down and I expect to come home with a fully prepared dinner…” Their father announced as the front door shut, the sounds of his car pulling away only fueled this anxiety and feeling to the max.

“She's coming! She's coming! Are you excited, sissy!?”

Quinn couldn't hold back anymore. Those words threw them into there very first angry fit… and probably the worst one ever…

Screams, flashes of red and adrenaline ran through the moment, the only thing stopping them is the horrified voice behind them.

“...Jonathan?”

Sarah asked, her eyes wide with surprise, horror, and grief as she stared at the bloody mess before them both. Quinn swung at her from behind, only snapping back to reality as Sarah fell back, lifeless…

Quinn stared at the mess they created in their fit, the horror and agony they just caused… they stared back at… him… and felt tears run down their face…

“You're… dead… It's… my fault…”

They thought aloud, their voice shaky with grief, loss, and pure terror. Tears continued to fall as they stumbled upstairs… they sat in their room, they had lost the two things keeping them going in this world. The only two reasons why they kept themselves alive.

What do I do? What- what's even going to happen now? I'm gonna get caught. I-I can't let that happen… I…

Their thoughts stopped as they looked up, their mask hanging on the wall in front of them… they have nothing to lose now… they have nobody to care for…

…I'll take matters into my own hands… might as well finish the job…

They though as the grabbed the mask and stapped it on their face. It fit like a glove.

Their parents stood no chance of survival against Quinn. Their deaths were quick and meaningless. They lit a cigarette and lifted their mask slightly to soothe their nerves. Before anxiety hit them like a truck.

Shit. What’ll the cops think?

They quickly made their way out back, grabbing a canister of gasoline and trailing it all over the house, out of the house, down the street…

They saw the home that lived next door, a family. A very happy family… they were eating dinner together and laughing it all up… for some twisted reason, it sickened Quinn. “How disgusting…” they muttered as they trailed gasoline around the home as well. Just barely enough made it far away enough to light it up from afar.

They finished their cigarette, staring at the still lit butt before pulling their mask back and throwing the but onto the line of gasloline… both homes broke into flames, and Quinn couldn't help but smile at the beautiful sight… and they couldn't help the maniacal laughter escaping their body. They ran into the forest, tears streaming down their face and laughter filling the silence of this blood curling night.

They managed to find a cabin after so long… it was a cabin the family used to camp at occasionally before Johnathan came along… they found their bunk and passed out for the night.

The next day, they got up and turned on the radio, expecting music to play but only finding news reporters talking about the events that transpired that night.

“-Massive house fire that burned down two homes and killed one family. Experts say the source can be traced back to the Devore's home and no trace of the eldest child can be found. Autopsies will be done to figure out how the Devore family was killed, as their charred bodies were found more mutilated than any old house fire could cause-”

That alone was enough to make them smash the radio to bits. Their paranoia began to show and it was daunting…

That's it… I'm gonna get found… I'm going to jail…

The only thoughts they had were concerned for themselves and themselves alone… for once, not having anyone to care for was dreadful but also relieving…?

What- no!! Hell no!! I just killed my family, for crying out loud! Why… why don't I feel guilty???

What…

Their thoughts transpired as a realization hit them.

…Why did I care…?

It's been a while… a week, at least… since the incident… it's really fuzzy in their head, and the lack of sleep isn't helping with the delusions and voices and dizzyness… what had happened a week prior was barely memorable…

I… killed people… who were my important… but my important… what…? Where's Johnathan? Where's Sarah?

Two weeks… the slept last week but didn't sleep again, their nightmares haunting enough with Johnathan and Sarah appearing as the mutilated corpses they became… chasing them through the forest until they came upon a tall, faceless figure and woke up right after…

Who… was that…? Why… were Johnathan and Sarah… dead…? It was my fault but…

What… did they mean to me…?

Three weeks. They slept again last week but the dream was so cryptic and horrific they could barely remember it…

I hate this… who's the faceless man…? Why is he here? Why is he familiar? Why are the two kids familiar to me?

Oh yeah… they're my siblings…

It had been a full month, they were losing their mind and had barely slept… they don't understand why they're here… they don’t understand why they ended up this way…

I killed someone… lot’s of people, actually… I took their lives but…

Who were they? I know the names “Johnathan” and “Sarah” but… why?

Their thoughts were broken up by the sound of their stomach grumbling… they need to eat again…

They got up and headed to the cooler, only to find no more food… guess it was hunting season…

They stared at the door with anticipation. It had been a whole month since they left and they had no idea what to do… they didn’t understand why they hadn’t been caught yet… they didn’t understand why they hadn’t ran farther yet… but nonetheless, hunger had struck hard enough to push then out the door.

The darkness engulfed Quinn in the night… they walk through the forest quietly, occasionally looking up at the stars through the shadows of the forest trees. And then going back to looking for at least a rabbit…

Snap…

They drew their blade and turned quickly… only finding a boy… he looked to be a few years younger than Quinn at the least, brown messy hair, pale white skin, a muzzle or mask of sorts, orange goggles, and two hatchets in their holsters… one looked a lot older than the other…

“...Y-You’re *neck snap* new… mmhh…” the boy stuttered, approaching Quinn with wide eyes. Quinn took a few steps back and the boy laughed loudly at the action. Before regaining composure…

“Heh… re-relaaax… ch-chiill… *whistle* b-b-birdy!” He twitched and ticked, Quinn tilted their head but felt a strange sense of… connection between them…

“I-I-I should sh-show ya t-to the boss! H-He's g-g-gonna be SUPER excited!” He exclaimed, nodding Quinn to follow along, but they didn't budge…

“What's wr-wrong? Sc-Sc-Scaaaaared?” He teased, only for Quinn to stay still and silent for a few moments before speaking.

“...Name?”

Toby looked up, dumbfounded as he realized he never introduced himself. “Haha! Si-Silly me… N-Name's Toby! Y-You?” He returned, Quinn taking a moment before responding…

“Quinn. Na-Name's Quinn…”

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