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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Summary: You and Eddie finally get some much-needed alone time, and a confrontation at the Hawkins Preschool talent show tests your commitment to each other.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), protected p in v, fingering, oral (m! receiving), lil bit of edging, broken condom, breeding kink, mentions of Eddie's past, bullying, fighting, Jason Carver's mere existence, mostly fluff and smut before the angst of the next two chapters

WC: 9.2k

Chapter 15/20

Divider credit to @saradika Cutie pie Eddie pic credit to @/sunceddie

You wake up to an alarm set a full hour later than it typically is on a Friday morning, and the extra rest has you walking on air. Or maybe this newfound floatiness comes from knowing Eddie will be arriving soon, the two of you playing hooky from work to spend the day together. Your insides ignite with a rebellious fire, like you’re skipping class to smoke cigarettes underneath the bleachers, rather than taking a paid sick day that you’ve rightfully accrued.

Sunlight streams through the window, just a bit brighter than the usual smears of pink and orange that you normally see when you awaken. And while you still have to drag your yet-to-be-caffeinated body out of bed, the walk to the bathroom seems slightly less daunting.

You can’t let Eddie in fast enough when the intercom buzzes thirty minutes later. You were never naïve to the fact that dating a parent would mean having less privacy; what you didn’t know was how strongly you’d crave him.

Your hands are all over him the moment he steps through the door, simultaneously too much and not enough. Fingers lazily drape across the nape of his neck, and you can feel that his hair is already frizzy from the early April rain. Your breath hitches when you catch a glimpse of the burgeoning outline along the seam of his gray sweatpants.

His lips find yours easily, aiming to meet in the middle, but you press on your toes and bring your core to his. Your pajama top is thin; not sheer, but flimsy enough that he can feel the way you react to the chill of his leather jacket.

“Hello to you, too,” he murmurs with a laugh, muffled by a kiss that catches him off-guard. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast first, but—”

You shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bedroom. “Sex first, food later.”

“Yes ma’am.” He uses his free hand to apply a quick smack to your ass, mesmerized at the way the supple flesh ripples underneath the flannel pants. Jesus, you’ve got him half-hard and you’re still in your pajamas.

He sits on the side of the bed, and you climb to straddle him, your inner thighs nudging his outer. “Been thinking about you,” you say, tugging his earlobe between your teeth.

Eddie pulls you even closer, one hand snaking up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s still cold from the rain and early morning frost, and his touch has your nipple pebbling. “What about me?”

“Well,” you trill, starting to slowly grind against the tented fabric of his pants. He exhales, a shiver of anticipation coursing through his veins. “I believe I promised my rockstar a reward for his amazing gig.” Your thoughts flit back to the night of Will’s party, when you’d snuck backstage and gotten a glimpse of him, his body pulsating with nerves that had almost immediately quelled at your touch. Another sensation had swept over him then, but that was an entirely different type of flutter.

Eddie nudges his nose against yours, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Your rockstar?” He adores the phrasing. Yours. Belonging to you. And you belong to him; he won’t ever allow you to forget it. “What kind of reward did my favorite groupie have in mind?”

You slide off of him, giggling at the pout he gives you as your body loses contact with his. “Patience, Rockstar,” you warn him, though it’s difficult to contain yourself when you’re salivating just being eye-level with his erection. Your fingers dig into his waistband, and for the second time today, you’re glad for his choice of clothing. You don’t think you could handle buttons and zippers and belt buckles. Not today.

He hisses when your palm brushes along his hardened length, stiffening even while covered by his boxer briefs. A small wet patch marks his tip, leaking precum, and you press a chaste kiss to it. Almost instantly, you feel the tendrils of his thigh hair against your bare arms as his legs reflexively snap shut like a Venus flytrap catching its prey.

“Too much?” you mumble against his happy trail. While you relish in the thought of overstimulating him, you want to keep him on edge as long as you can.

Eddie shakes his head, curls scratching against his shoulders. “Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. ‘Cause you were using your hands, but then I felt your…never mind, I’m gonna shut up now.” He settles back into the mattress and eagerly awaits your next move.

You don’t make him wait long, lips drawn to his shaft with a magnetic force. You only stop to shimmy his underwear down his legs, tossing them to the corner of the room. His cock is flush against his tummy; you catch yourself staring at the dusting of wispy curls that trail from his upper groin down to his heavy sack.

Your dominant hand wraps around the base while the other leans on his thigh for balance. You lean in and spit, letting your saliva dribble down his length before flattening your tongue to lick up the pearly bead forming at the tip. Eddie’s abdominal muscles contract and his fists clench, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful woman on her knees for him.

He lets out a soft moan as you hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth. A string of syllables that barely resemble words escapes him. “Mmm, yes, oh, sh–fucking hell–thas’ it…” He twists the bedsheets between his fingers, inhaling sharply as your tongue glides up and down his cock. “S’pretty, fuck, gorgeous girl.” He watches intently, staving off blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment of him disappearing between your lips.

He’d once thought that he could never want more than sloppy post-gig hook-ups in dive bar bathrooms with girls whose names he’d never learned, though he wouldn’t have made an effort to remember them anyway. Girls who had only offered their mouths so they could lay claim to his body; the opportunity to brag that they’d blown Eddie Munson before he got famous.

That was before you, before you’d shown him the intoxicating mixture of longing and belonging, of lust and…

You continue drawing him closer and closer to his orgasm, nose grazing his thatch of pubic hair. His hips buck slightly, but your mouth is so full of him that it threatens to evoke your gag reflex.

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Eddie blurts out, unfurling a hand from the sheets to cup your cheek. He pulls out, allowing you to take a deep breath.

You shake your head. “I liked it,” you tease with a wicked grin, wasting no time assuming your previous position.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie throws his head back. “You like gagging on my dick? Fucking hell, babe.”

“Mhm.” The gentle vibration has him twitching, and you know he can’t last much longer. You bring your attention to his tip, sucking and giving soft kitten licks while your hand takes care of the rest of his length. He’s so painfully hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed that way long after finishing.

“Jus’…just like that. Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groans, silently calling upon every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his pelvis still so he doesn’t disturb the beautiful rhythm you’ve found. “Gonna cum…shit, baby, if you don’t want it in your mouth, you gotta stop now.”

But you do want it in your mouth, so you don’t stop, feeling warm ropes adorning your tongue just seconds later. He’s panting, chest heaving as though he was the one putting in the effort, but he still notices the way you swallow his thick load without missing a beat.

“Did you just…oh, my God. You’re perfect.” He throws his hands up in mock defeat. “I can’t…nothing I do will ever compare to you, I swear.” He motions for you to lay down next to him, and immediately climbs on top of you, the sweat from his chest transferring to your shirt. “Off,” he mumbles, pulling it over your head before you get the chance to do it yourself.

His lips swoop down to your left breast, tongue flickering over the nipple, and his dominant hand travels into your panties and expertly finds your clit. You let out a tiny whimper, barely audible over Eddie’s own grunts, finding pleasure in making you feel good.

“This body,” he mumbles, mouth still attached to your chest, “has me in a goddamn chokehold. It’s all I think about.” That isn’t quite true; he certainly spends plenty of time daydreaming of you, though it isn’t always in such compromising positions. Sometimes, you’re sleeping next to him in bed as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. Other times, he’ll be cooking dinner and picture you passing him the salt or handing him a serving spoon to dish out whatever noodle-based concoction he’s conjured up. Whatever he’s doing, he imagines you by his side.

“Can you kiss me?” Your request is timid but dripping with need.

Eddie nods, bringing himself to eye level with you and closing the gap between your faces. You taste of minty toothpaste and of him, and he curses himself for diving in headfirst without remembering to kiss you. “M sorry,” he apologizes for the second time that morning, and you forgive him with a soft bite to his lower lip.

Your arms rest on his shoulders and your legs wrap around his calf muscles, desperate to remain as close as possible at all times. No, you can’t stay like this forever, so you’ve got to make it count. “Need you inside me, Eddie.” Your voice nearly cracks, tears pricking at your lash line as the craving for him grows stronger. “Please.”

Eddie musters up a terse laugh. “Sweetheart, I just came, like, five minutes ago. You gotta give me a second to bounce back.” He lowers himself so he can whisper in your ear, “let me take care of you while we wait, hm?”

As soon as you nod, he’s yanking down your pajama pants and panties in one fluid motion. You can’t miss the way his eyes light up once you’re fully on display for him, taking in every centimeter of your body like his existence depends upon it. He starts to shimmy his way down, but your murmured “mm-mm” captures his attention.

“Still want you kissing me,” you say, gazing adoringly into his deep brown eyes. “Maybe you could just use your fingers?”

His instinct is to protest; he’s been desperate to taste you again ever since his tongue last touched the most intimate part of you, but he can’t deny you what you want. He’ll do just about anything to keep a smile on your face.

Without further hesitation, Eddie’s lips are on yours. He braces himself on his elbows as his hands cradle your cheeks. You can feel the heat of his cock, still spent and flaccid, against the top of your thigh. He shifts slightly so he can press one thick finger into your pussy, dragging in and out so deliciously that you barely notice his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you moan.

“Y’like that?” It’s a gratuitous question; he can feel how much you like it in the way you’re clenching around him. “Gonna make my girl feel s’good.”

“Call me your girl again,” you whine, punctuating the plea with a gentle buck of your hips.

Eddie grins, ducking his head where your neck meets your collarbone and sucking lightly. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to mark you. He studies the moisture left behind by his lips and wishes it was the exquisite shades of blue and indigo that form when someone’s been claimed.

He slides a second finger inside you. “My sweet girl,” he coos, just a hint of patronization laced within his deep voice, “you like being mine? Belonging to me?”

Your stomach flips at his words; a gnawing hunger for Eddie Munson. “Love it. I…I love being your girl.” You allow your mind to clear, absorbing his gaze, his touch, his skin. The graceful arch of your back beckons him to move faster, tongue peeking from between his plush lips as he concentrates on your orgasm.

Each stroke within you inches you closer to euphoria. Eddie’s thumb is pressed to your clit, cementing his determination to tip you over the edge. He hits all the right spots, committing them to memory; his own personal pathway to the heavens.

It’s your turn to grab onto the bed sheets like a lifeline as pleasure surges through you. Your lips coat his in a warm layer of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” the praise a victory chant to him. He waits until your eyelids flutter back open and your breathing steadies before taking his fingers from your center and into his mouth, licking your release off of his skin like a delicacy.

Your body may be splayed out on the bed, but your mind is adrift; its only focus is the float down from the high Eddie’s brought you to. If it weren’t for the throbbing reminder pressed to your leg, you might float right into the atmosphere.

You summon the willpower to prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as he fists himself to temporarily ease the ache.

“Why’re you doing that when ‘m right here?” you mumble, wetting your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. You can only hope that there’s some semblance of a smile in your intoxicated expression. “Unless you…prefer your hand?”

“Fuck, no,” he grumbles, curls dancing along his shoulder blades as he loosens his grasp to dig through your top drawer. He shoves aside stray prescription bottles and various knickknacks that you’ve been meaning to go through until he finds what he’s been looking for.

He snatches up the teal box and practically tears the cardboard in half trying to open it. The snake of foil packets tumbles out and he scrambles for them, but you’re faster.

Wordlessly, you rip off one packet and carefully tear off the top. Eddie hisses as you roll the condom down his hardened length, more than ready to be inside you.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, pressing your palms to his soft pecs. “‘S that okay?”

“Is that—baby, if I ever say no to that offer, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” he laughs, already laying back on the bed. His hair splays across the pillow, brown curls swirling atop the cotton pillowcase like Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

Eddie inhales sharply as you sit above him, sheathed cock pressed to your heat in anticipation. He reaches out and grabs your breasts, one in each hand, kneading them in his palms. His thumbs brush over your nipples, gauging your reaction before giving them a small pinch.

Your moan, coupled with the way you grind against him, confirms your satisfaction, but he still asks, “Y’like when I do that?”

You offer him a little smirk, cocking your brow as you cheekily reply, “You tell me.”

He doesn’t have time to respond before you lift yourself and gradually sink down onto him, soaking in every moment of the delectable stretch. Bracing yourself on his chest, you feel him bottom out so he’s filling you entirely.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His hands move from your chest to your hips as he helps you adjust to the newfound fullness. “So tight. Feels‘mazing.”

“Just wanna take care of you, Eds. You’re so good to me; I wanna be good to you.” You bounce up and down, moving your hips so no part of your walls remains untouched by him.

He’s mesmerized at the jiggle of your flesh as it connects with his, momentarily rendering him speechless before he regains some composure. “You are. You’re so, so good for me. Can never get enough of my girl.”

You clench around him at the title ‘my girl’, earning you a smack to your ass. The sting makes you whimper, and he swiftly delivers another.

“You’re gonna make me cum too soon,” he huffs, blown-out pupils drifting from your eyes to where your bodies are joined.

You pause your movements to lean down, allowing him impossibly deep within you. “If it’s too much,” you murmur into his ear, hoping your edge-teetering tremble is hidden enough to effectively tease him, “maybe I should just…stop.” You slide your hips forward until only his tip breaches your hole.

Eddie’s jaw drops in complete disbelief. “You…you can’t fuckin’ do that to me.” You expect him to push the rest of his cock inside you and thrust until he’s completely spent, so you’re caught off-guard when he pulls out entirely. “All fours. Now.” He emphasizes his request with another spank, this one harder than the rest.

You oblige, palms pressed into the mattress and toes curled as you await him. He taps his shaft against your bottom once, twice, three times, and then plunges into your warmth.

“Ah—fuck—Eddie!” you cry, feeling the telltale twitch that informs you he’s close. Really fucking close. And then another sensation—a soft pop.

He realizes what it is before you do. “Fuckin’ condom broke!” he grumbles, pulling out again—even more begrudgingly than before—and tossing the split rubber to the floor. He opens a new one and rolls it on with lightning speed, eager to be enveloped in you once again.

“Wish we didn’t have to use those,” you mumble, willing yourself to stay steady despite the push from his pistoning hips. “Be so much easier without them.”

Picturing you taking him raw—you wanting to take him raw—is the last straw. “Yeah? You wanna feel all of me, baby?” he growls, nearly inaudible over the sound of his pelvis colliding with your ass. “Want me blowing my load so fuckin’ deep inside you?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, feeling that delicate wave approaching the shoreline, desperate to crest. “That’s exactly what I want, Eddie.”

“Keep saying my name,” he orders, wrapping one arm around you so his middle finger lays on your clit. Every part he touches makes you weaker for him, scavenging for the relief of release.

“Eddie, feels s’good,” you moan, legs threatening to crumple beneath you. “No one makes me feel like this ‘cept you, fuck, Eddie!”

You finish around him, squeezing him until he’s spilling into the condom with a primal groan of your name. He stays draped over you for a beat before flopping back onto the bed.

“You are…” he turns to you and grins as he searches for the right word, “spectacular.” He gingerly removes the barrier from his dick, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the trash can next to your nightstand. “C’mere.”

You lay on his chest, the sweat cooling as it hits your cheek. “Did you work up an appetite?” you tease, kissing just below his tattoo of a demonic head, “I can grab us some cereal, or we might have some frozen Eggos I could throw in the toaster.”

Eddie smiles so wide it threatens to escape the confines of his cheeks. “Sex and breakfast? You spoil me, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well; we need energy to power us through round two.” You scoot upwards to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the salt of his perspiration tangy on your lips. “Give me a few minutes, okay? Do you like syrup on your waffles?”

“And butter?” he asks with a hopeful smile, peering at you through long eyelashes that would have had you darting to Bradley’s Big Buy if you didn’t already have a stick of Land O’ Lakes in the fridge.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you say, giving his bare thigh a small tap. “Would you also care for some freshly-squeezed orange juice? I can have the chef whip some up right away.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, slowly pushing himself up so he can help you in the kitchen. It dawns on him that he hasn’t felt this kind of peace after sex before; his mind has always been clouded with fears of getting too attached, of saying the wrong thing, of deluding someone into thinking he’s enough.

“God, I love you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and he freezes in place, one leg through his underwear. “Fuck, I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, noting the red tinge forming on the tips of his ears. “I’d say that to anyone who offered me breakfast foods, too.” You give him room to accept the out, to brush off his confession as a slip of the tongue. There’s no use in awarding merit to an accidental comment, regardless of what your skipped heartbeat tells you.

He considers it, every synapse and neuron firing at warpspeed. Maybe he could convince himself that it was an accident if it was the first time he’d felt this, the way your sunshine radiates through him and warms him from within. But that was far from the truth.

“No,” he finds himself saying, grasping onto every morsel of confidence he can find, “it’s not because of the food. I love you.”

Your voice catches in your throat. You want to believe that he’s reciprocating your feelings, but something nags at you. “Are you sure it’s not because we just had sex? Because sometimes that—”

“No,” Eddie repeats himself, unfolding the waistband of his boxer briefs and walking to you. “Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” He takes a deep breath and holds your hands as he gazes into your eyes. “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips.

“I love you, too, Eddie.”

Just five words, six syllables, and he’s a goner. Seriousness melts into a sappy smile as he cradles your cheeks and presses the tip of his nose to yours. “Holy shit, we’re in love.”

You kiss him, tongue nudging his as your torsos meld together. If your stomach wasn’t gnawing for something to eat, you’d start round two right then and there.

Throwing on just a shirt and panties, you lead him into the kitchen before either of you can crawl back into bed. His hands never leave your body, snaking around your waist as you rifle through the freezer for the familiar yellow box. His head rests on your shoulder as you drop the waffles into the toaster and press the lever down.

“Eds?”

“Yes, my love?” he murmurs, pecking a soft kiss behind your ear. You both could have sworn that there was nothing better than him calling you ‘my girl,’ but you’re unashamed to stand corrected.

“Could you make yourself useful and grab some plates? Maybe get the syrup or butter?” you tease, noting the dramatic pout developing on his face. “What?”

“I’m keepin’ you warm,” he protests, sliding his hands over the cotton fabric of your faded t-shirt and grabbing your breasts. “And you’re not wearing a bra, so I gotta hold ‘em for you.”

He eventually obliges, setting two Chinette plates on the countertop and padding over to the refrigerator. He plucks the condiments from the side door and places them in the center of the table.

“Cups, too,” you remind him with a cheeky grin, pointing to a cabinet to your right. “No drinking out of the carton in my house.”

“Bossy this morning, aren’t we?”

The toaster chimes a charismatic ding! as the waffles jump out of their slots, and you carefully drop both onto one plate. “Here ya go,” you chirp, extending your arm so he can take his breakfast.

“Where’s yours?” His brows pinch together in confusion, a sly smile stretching his lips. “Don’t tell me I didn’t make you work up more of an appetite back there. Shit, shoulda had you ride me longer–”

Your hip collides with his in a purposeful shove. “I’m getting mine ready now. Go sit and eat, you horndog.”

Eddie drops the plate on the counter so quickly that the Eggos nearly fly off, pulling you from behind for a hug that squeezes all the air from your lungs. You squeal as he bites your neck and barks into it, solidifying that he has indeed earned the new nickname you’ve bestowed upon him.

He takes one of his waffles and places it on your empty plate. “We can eat together.”

You grab the orange juice from the fridge, giving the carton a shake before pouring the contents between the two glasses. It’s not until you sit down that you remember: “Oh, shit—utensils.” You start to get back up, but Eddie puts a hand out in a silent bid for you to stay seated, shuffling back to the kitchen. The drawer rattles as he pulls with just a bit too much strength, and he comes back with two knives and a single fork.

“You only got one—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t need it.” With that, he cuts off a hunk of butter and slathers it on top of his waffle, knife scraping against the little squares. He slathers every square inch in syrup, folds the waffle in half, and takes an exaggeratedly large bite.

“Eddie Munson!” you lightly chastise, still in shock at what you’ve witnessed. “Did you just eat that like a taco?”

“Sí, señorita.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with a barbarian.” You reach for the bottle of Aunt Jemima and drizzle the sticky-sweetness onto your waffle. “What else is going on with you?” you ask, cutting the food into strips and spearing it with your fork. “Work’s good?”

“Work’s great, actually.” He starts to bring the waffle to his mouth but pauses just before taking a bite. Syrup drops onto the plate with a plop. “I almost forgot to tell you! The regional manager asked me to go to this thrift market in Indianapolis in a few weeks—all on the company’s dime—and try to snag some vintage records.”

“Eds, that’s amazing!” You leap up from your chair and lean in to kiss his syrupy lips.

He licks a smudge of butter from the side of his thumb. “Oh, but that’s not even the best part,” Eddie grins triumphantly. “The market just so happens to fall during spring break, and I was hoping you could join us?” His bare foot nudges yours under the table. “That is, if you think you can survive an entire weekend running after Harris?”

Your jaw drops in mock-offense. “One of us chases after children–plural–every day. Besides,” you add, taking a swig of juice, “Harris isn’t the one I’m worried about.” You gesture at his partially-demolished breakfast. “At least when he eats like this, he has the excuse of being a child.”

His reply is a flick of his left middle finger, his right hand busy jamming the remaining waffle-taco into his mouth. “And yet,” he retorts with his mouth full, “you can’t seem to get enough.”

He’s got you there: all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you now, the corners of his chocolate-brown eyes crinkling as he stands. You allow your eyes to roam his body; not with lust, but adoration. Love.

Your cheek yearns to be pressed to his chest, your hand resting where the soft pudge of his tummy barely rolls over the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Your legs crave the connection of intertwining with his. You need his arms, biceps strong from lugging around music equipment and holding his son, wrapped around your torso and keeping you impossibly close. Keeping you safe.

You want to spend hours asking about the stories behind the tattoos that adorn his chest, whether meaningful or the result of sheer boredom. You want to curl up on the sofa and put on a movie, absorbing none of it as you spend the entire duration lost in his lips.

The brush of his thumb against your knuckles stirs you from your roaming thoughts.

“Can I ask you something?”

Eddie sits up a bit straighter, hand never leaving yours. “Shoot.”

“Is it…” you fumble for the right words, “why are you like this now?”

“I’m sorry?” His brows knit together in obvious confusion. “Why am I like…what?”

“This,” you repeat, gesticulating at the man before you, warm and tender and completely unlike the stranger you’d hooked up with nearly eight months ago. “Why is the guy who once kicked me out of his apartment currently having breakfast with me half-naked and inviting me on a trip with his son?” Your tone is inquisitive, curious, and Eddie heaves a silent sigh of relief when he doesn’t detect a hint of judgment.

He doesn’t answer your question outright; instead, he poses his own: “Do you not believe that I love you?” He bites his lower lip, mind churning with the early memories you’d made together, the ones he wishes he could lock away and never remember.

Your heart lurches at your accidental implication. “I do! Shit, Eddie, I know you love me. And I love you, too.” You pause to lift his hand to your mouth, leaving the gentlest of kisses along his fuzzy knuckles. “I guess I just wanna know why you even let yourself love me. Why you didn’t stick to the Cat-and-Mouse. Why…why you chose me.”

He exhales, an incredulous huff of laughter passing through his lips. “You wanna know why I started only having one-night stands? Or why I stopped?”

“Both?” you try.

“So, um,” his eyes look everywhere but at you, “I never really got attention until I moved to Chicago and started playing with that band. All of a sudden, women wanna sleep with me, and I don’t have to, like, beg them.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But they didn’t really want to fuck Eddie Munson; they just wanted to fuck the lead singer and guitarist of Hard Knox. Didn’t matter if it was me or some other random guy.

“One night, I’m…y’know…with this one girl, and I asked her to say my name.” His cheeks tinge red and he swallows hard. “And she looks at me with these wide eyes, and I realized she didn’t even fucking know it.”

“Did you know hers?” The question comes out before you can stop it, but you already know the answer.

He rubs his eyes with his whole palm. “After that, I realized that the only difference between the Eddie who got laid and the Eddie who didn’t was that no one I slept with really knew me. And if they ever figured out that I’m just this big ol’ nerd who spent high school playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’d…” He flexes his hands to make a poof! motion. “So I decided not to let them get to know me.”

“But then…”

“But then,” he acquiesces, “you show up at the bar, looking like a goddamn dream, and I put up that cocky lead singer persona on instinct. Because that’s the only version of me that women ever wanted to be with.” He sighs. “And then I let my guard down, ask you to spend the night, and I’m thinking, ‘I gotta get her outta here before she sees who I really am. Before she sees that I’m not a rockstar; I’m just a mediocre dad who sells weed to scrape by.’”

You move so quickly that you practically knock over your chair, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around the top of his chest. Your chin rests on his scalp, and he can feel the vibration in your throat as you murmur, “nothing about you is mediocre, Eddie Munson.”

He lays his head on your forearm, kissing it softly before lacing his fingers with yours. “Sometimes, I think I’m just buying time until you get sick of me.”

You shift your position so your lips can brush the side of his neck. “I didn’t fall for the guy on stage that night. I mean, yeah, you looked incredibly hot,” you tease and nip at his collarbone, “but I’m in love with Eddie Munson: the man who gets excited when his son reads a new word, who teases me for liking olives on my pizza, who knows the lyrics to every song ever made–including the ones he claims to hate.”

“Well, Eddie Munson–the real Eddie Munson–is so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.” He turns so he’s facing you, strong hands on your hips as he gazes up with starry eyes.

You cradle his cheeks, stooping down so your noses touch. “You deserve to be loved.”

“Yeah.” The word is more breath than sound. “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to believe that.”

The remainder of your day is spent having copious amounts of sex; Eddie had insisted on ‘making up for lost time,’ taking breaks only for a quick lunch and a shower.

“Come with me to pick up Harris,” Eddie says as he wraps the bath towel around his waist. Water drips from the ends of his curls down to the dimples on his lower back. “We’re going to Jeff and Viv’s after so he can meet Baby Ettie.”

You raise your eyebrows in amusement, bending over to dry your legs. “I took a sick day today,” you remind him. “I can’t just show up there in your car, like, ‘nothing to see here!’”

“I’ll park far away,” he says with a shrug. “No biggie.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I mean, I could tell Harris that Ms. Sweetheart was supposed to be with us, but she said no—”

You swat at his chest and he pulls back, feigning pain. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

That’s how you ended up hunched over in the passenger seat of Eddie’s sedan, hiding from any passersby who could potentially recognize you. It only takes a few minutes before you hear the sound of Harris’s little voice, chewing his dad’s ear off about his day at school.

“...and then me an’ Charlie traded me snacks, an’ no one even sawed us!” He’s cackling like it’s the funniest joke. “He had my pretzels and I had his gummies, and it was so silly!”

“Gummies, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue, “well, that explains the sugar rush.” Their voices get louder as they approach the car. “By the way, Har Bear, I have a surprise for you.”

As he says it, Harris opens the back door and hops into the car, eyes widening when he sees you sitting up front. “Ms. Sweetheart!” he exclaims, bouncing into his booster seat with pure exhilaration. “What are you doing in Daddy’s car?”

“I figured I could see Baby Ettie with you guys,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, a stark contrast to the little boy practically vibrating from excitement, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, yes, YES!” Harris shouts, his words aimed directly in Eddie’s ear as he tries buckling his son’s seatbelt.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters, wincing as he massages the opening of his ear canal with his forefinger. “Take it down a notch, little man.” He fumbles with the belt until he hears the familiar click. He dons a deep voice to announce, “Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” and Harris draws his limbs inwards with a giggle while Eddie closes his door.

“Daddy? Can we listen to music?”

“Mhm.” Eddie reaches for the radio dial, then stops. “Should we let Ms. Sweetheart choose the tape? Since she’s our special guest?” He shoots you a grin that sends a flip-flopping sensation behind your ribs.

Harris taps his finger to his chin in contemplation. “Hmm…okay! Can she pick Metallica?”

“Not quite sure that’s how it works…” Eddie scrunches up his face and scratches at his jawline.

You turn around to face the boy, whose curly hair is now identically frizzy to his father’s. “Actually, Metallica sounds great to me,” you say, adding a thumbs-up for good measure.

“Metallica it is!” Eddie pops in the cassette, the mechanical wheels whirring for a moment before Fight Fire with Fire blares through the speakers. He rests his palm on the back of your seat as he backs out of the spot, tongue poking from his lips in concentration.

Harris alternates between headbanging to the music and babbling about school throughout the drive to Jeff and Viv’s. His energy seems endless as he hops out of the car and races to their front door.

“Har, remember,” Eddie calls out, “we have to be calm and gentle around the baby. Don’t wanna scare her.”

Harris nods as Jeff opens the door. “Mini Munson!” He gives a tired smile, stifling a yawn. “Ready to meet your new cousin?” He chuckles when Harris jumps up and down and squeals. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go ‘head and sit on the couch, kiddo.”

Harris follows Jeff’s instructions, and you and Eddie trail close behind him. Jess and Robin are also there; the latter woman is currently holding Ettie, lightly rocking the newborn in her arms.

“Do you wanna hold her?” she asks Harris, who looks to you and his dad in a silent plea for permission.

“Up to you, Har,” Eddie says with an encouraging smile. “We’ll help you, if you want.”

Harris nods, shuffling so his back is pressed up against the sofa. He squirms anxiously, kicking his feet as he waits for you and his dad to join him.

Eddie sits on his right side, and you take the empty space to his left. “I’ll help you hold her head,” you promise him. “You can hold your arms out like this,” you demonstrate, resting your forearms on your lap with your palms facing the ceiling, and Harris mimics your actions. “There ya go.”

Robin carefully walks over and places Ettie in Harris’s outstretched arms, ensuring that you’re supporting the baby’s head before she fully lets go. For a few moments, Harris just stares at the little girl, seemingly unsure how to react. Finally, he softly murmurs, “she’s so little!”

“Sure is,” Eddie laughs, poking at one of her tiny toes in amazement. “Would you believe that you were even more little when you were a baby?” His grin deepens when Harris’s jaw drops in disbelief. “It’s true! You were the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.” As he says it, a lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it before anyone notices the catch in his voice. You don’t need to hear it, though, and you use your free hand to discreetly rub his back in silent reassurance.

Harris purses his lips as he stares at his new cousin, clearly unaffected by the anecdote. “Does she do any tricks?”

His question has the entire group stifling laughter, and Eddie turns pink with embarrassment as he quickly explains, “she’s not a dog, buddy. And she was only born a few weeks ago, so she pretty much just eats, sleeps, and poops.”

“Ew,” Harris’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the last activity, though you’re willing to bet a large sum of money that he’s made at least one poop-related joke today. “So when can I teach her how to play Legos?”

“Not for a while,” Viv admits with a kind chuckle, “but when she’s ready, I promise that we’ll let her big cousin Harris show her how it’s done.”

Her answer placates him, at least temporarily, and he cautiously brushes his forefinger against Ettie’s scalp, smoothing down her wisps of hair. You take the moment to glance over at Eddie, only to find him looking right at you.

Hi, he mouths, though there’s so much more he wishes to say. When Harris was Ettie’s age, Eddie was exhausted, overwhelmed, constantly on the brink of breaking down. He’d sworn to himself and anyone else who would listen that he’d never go through the newborn stage again, but he’s mesmerized by the sight of you and Harris cuddling a baby. He wants this, he wants this with you, sleepless nights and spit-up stained clothes no longer strong enough deterrents.

Hi, you mouth back, suppressing words that ache to spill from your lips. Your pulse quickens at the way Eddie watches his son, not with scrutiny, but with admiration and awe, as though he can’t believe he’d created such a wonderful little human. Teaching children never translated over to a desire for motherhood, but you can suddenly picture yourself helping Harris hold your baby, a baby that symbolizes the love between you and Eddie.

“They look like a little family.” Robin’s attempted whisper grabs your attention; a brief scan of the room shows that everyone else is looking at her, too. Her cheeks flush a deep red and she mutters, “sorry,” swooping in to scoop Ettie into her arms.

An awkward silence hangs in the air until Jess clears her throat. “How was work today?” she asks you, and though you don’t have an actual answer to the question, you’re grateful for the subject change.

“I took the day off,” you reply nonchalantly. “Wanted to catch up on rest, y’know…” You trail off, hoping your non-answer suffices.

“What about you, Ed?” Jeff tries.

“Oh, uh,” Eddie stammers, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I also took the day off.”

Jeff’s gaze flits between the two of you until he finally manages an elongated, “…cool.”

Luckily, Harris is oblivious to the adults’ conversation. “Uncle Jeff, are you coming to my talent show next week?”

“Talent show?” Jeff glances at Eddie with an amused smirk.

“Uh, yeah, ‘s this parent-kid thing at his school,” Eddie hurriedly explains, trying not to trip over his words. He’s still stuck on what he’s implied by admitting that he’d also called out of work. “I didn’t know how busy you’d be with Ettie—”

Viv smiles. “I think he can sneak out for an hour to see his favorite nephew.”

“Robs and I can help out here if you need,” Jess offers to her sister, “as long as Jeff brings the camcorder so we have video evidence of this performance.”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie shuts the idea down immediately, but his protest is drowned out by the sound of Harris cheering.

“Daddy and I are gonna—”

Eddie claps a ringed hand over his son’s mouth. “It’s a surprise.” He looks at you for a moment, bashfulness infiltrating his expression with a timid smile and downcast eyes, and you realize that the surprise is for you.

Harris wriggles out of Eddie’s grasp with a discontented sigh, sliding off the couch and onto thr floor. “I didn’t tell Ms. Sweetheart,” he protests, and Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers any remaining patience.

Ettie puckers up her face and lets out a wail that seems far too big for her teeny body, but it serves as the perfect reason to leave. You hug everyone goodbye and give the cranky baby’s feet a gentle tickle before you head out the door. Harris gallops ahead, giving Eddie the opportunity to guide you with a soft press of his hand to the small of your back. Before he's fully outside, he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin.

“My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.”

“Jesus, you sound like Harris.”

Spending time at Hawkins Preschool outside of contracted work hours would normally be a scenario straight out of a nightmare. This afternoon; however, you’re here to see the most adorable little boy and his handsome dad perform some sort of mystery talent, which makes it all worthwhile.

The cafeteria has been transformed into an auditorium of sorts, with neat lines of metal folding chairs replacing the long tables that typically fill the space. An area at the front of the room has been sectioned off for the performances, and the entire place is abuzz with excitement about the adorableness that is about to ensue.

You spot Jeff and Wayne sitting in the third row from the back and you give them a little wave, bounding over to take the empty seat to Jeff’s left. The smile on your lips quickly transforms into a frown when you see him shake his head, placing his palm on the chair.

“I’m under strict orders to make sure you sit in the front row,” he says with a knowing smirk. He shoos you away, and you begrudgingly turn from their familiar faces, but not before catching a twinkle in Wayne’s eyes.

Soon after you find a seat close to the makeshift stage, Principal Sinclair steps up to the microphone.

“Welcome, friends and family, to our annual talent show fundraiser!” There’s a polite smattering of applause before she speaks again. “Our students—and their parents—have quite a show for you all. First up is Miss Abigail Carver and her mom, Chrissy, who will be performing a cheer routine!”

You clap as Abby and Chrissy step out, green and yellow pom-poms in hand. Your student recognizes you immediately, running over to give you a quick hug that elicits a resounding aww from the audience members. She rushes back to her spot as she and her mother cheer on the Hawkins Tigers in unison.

Next is another student of yours, Joshua Harrington. His dad hoists a Fisher Price basketball hoop and places it on the ground so the two of them can show off their “slam dunks.”

After a few more students from other classes, it’s finally the moment you’ve been waiting for.

“Please welcome Harris Munson and his dad, Eddie, who will be singing a song!”

No sooner do you call out, “Yay, Harris!” do you hear it:

“Freak.”

It’s low enough that no one else catches it; you probably wouldn’t have, either, if the culprit wasn’t sitting directly behind you. You turn around to see Jason Carver, camcorder by his side, poorly stifling a snicker.

Your hands clench, balled into fists, so tight that you feel your fingernails digging into your palms. It’s too tempting to smash his camera—no, smash his stupid face—but you inhale and then exhale for three seconds apiece. Today is about Harris and Eddie, and no overgrown bully is going to ruin that.

Still, you have to bite back a smile at the thought of Jason sporting a black eye, courtesy of the Freak’s girlfriend herself.

When Harris and Eddie take to the performance space, your anger evaporates and your heart becomes heavy with emotion. Harris is front and center, body slightly turned as he watches his dad get settled on a wooden stool and gives his acoustic guitar a tune. The boy dons a black suit that’s a size too big for him, his hands barely peeking out of the sleeves. He’s got on a tie that has to have been borrowed from an adult; you can’t imagine Eddie or Wayne wearing one, so maybe Jeff loaned it. The best part is the fedora that rests atop his messy mop of curls.

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart!” he says with a grin so wide it likely hurts his cheeks, letting out a shriek of delight when you wave. “This song is for you!”

Eddie murmurs a soft, “two, three, four,” and strums a melody that immediately has your eyes welling with tears.

“You make me feel so young,” Harris croons, mouth right up to the mic, “you make me feel so spring has sprung!”

To anyone else, it seems like a silly play on the fact that he is, in fact, young. You know it’s so much more.

“And every time I see you grin, I’m such a happy individual!”

He’s singing Frank Sinatra. He’s dressed as Frank Sinatra. And you know it had to be Eddie’s idea, considering Harris’s musical repertoire teeters between Raffi and Metallica.

He skips a few verses, and when he does, Eddie locks eyes with you and offers a tiny close-mouthed smile.

“And even when I’m old and gray I’m gonna feel the way I do today ‘Cause you make me feel so young!”

You choke down the sob that threatens to escape as they circle back to the chorus. The memory of Grandma’s final Thanksgiving, consisting of singing along to Fly Me to the Moon and sharing store-brand Oreos, soars around your mind. The way she had so easily slipped back into her old self, if only for a moment. The way Eddie had held you and kissed your scalp, protecting you from a force no one could see but everyone could feel.

“You make me feel so young You make me feel so young Ooh, you make me feel so young!”

The song ends and you leap to your feet, cheering just as loudly as you did the other night at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin. You swipe at a stray tear and force yourself to look at your boyfriend, so effortlessly beautiful in a black t-shirt and jeans.

Thank you, you mouth.

I love you, comes his silent reply.

You gaze into each other’s eyes for another beat before you feel a thud against your legs. Harris stands right before you, ignoring the way all of the other kids proceeded out the door after their performances.

“Are those happy tears?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern as he notices your stained cheeks. When you nod, still too overcome with emotion to speak aloud, his face splits into a grin. “Good.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug that nearly has you toppling over, and you rest your hand on his upper back to steady yourself.

“Easy, Har Bear,” Eddie’s voice is strong but tender, and your entire body relaxes in his presence. You want to pull him in by his belt loops and kiss him, running your fingers through his curls until you’re both smiling too hard to continue. If only you weren’t at your place of work, if only all eyes weren’t on you, if only–

“Looks like the Freak’s got a crush.”

A smattering of the audience members laugh at this, no one more so than the instigator himself. You whirl around reflexively, eyes narrowing at the smug blonde man behind you. Eddie takes a small step forward, quietly telling Harris to go back with his friends as he zeroes in on his longtime nemesis.

He’s going to hit him, you realize, noting the subtle clench of his jaw and twitch of his flexing bicep. I have to stop him before he does something he regrets.

Eddie’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jason’s collar and pulling him in with a jolt. There’s a soft gasp from the crowd followed by silence as everyone waits for Eddie’s next move. You can hear the scraping of metal chairs on the ground as Wayne and Jeff scramble to mitigate the situation before it can escalate further.

To your surprise–and relief–Eddie doesn’t throw any punches; instead, he grits his teeth and hisses, low enough so only you and Jason can hear:

“Don’t ever talk about her again.”

He lets go with a small shove, and Jason stumbles back just as Principal Sinclair arrives to break it up. While time came to a screeching halt, the whole interaction spanned fewer than ten seconds.

Wayne and Jeff reach him first, guiding him out of the cafeteria. The older man keeps his eyes on his nephew, but Jeff shoots Jason a steely glare, insinuating that Jason had better heed Eddie’s warning if he wants to live to see his daughter go to kindergarten. You follow behind and attempt to keep your composure.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes as soon as the four of you are alone. “I shouldn’t have…I just fuckin’ hate that guy.” His eyes dance with anxiety, not sure whether to look at you, his friend, his uncle, or the ground.

You take his hands in yours, imploring him to focus on you as you reach up to brush his curls off of his face. “It’s okay–”

Eddie shakes his head. “I ruined everything. This was supposed to be about Harris, and about making you happy…” He takes a step back, rubbing his eyes with a low, exasperated, “fuck!”

“Baby–”

“I’m gonna get Harris,” Eddie starts to walk away, speaking to himself as though you hadn’t said a word, but he stops in his tracks when Wayne puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to your girl,” he says simply, motioning for Jeff to come fetch Harris with him.

Eddie doesn’t dare protest, trudging back to face you. He’d fucked up royally, and he knew it. What was he thinking, putting his hands on Jason Carver in the middle of a goddamn preschool talent show?

“Eddie,” you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze, “it’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish he didn’t get under your skin like that.” You rub your thumb along his forefinger. “He’s not worth it, I promise.”

“I just…” Eddie mumbles, thoughts too scrambled to find the words he needs. He heaves a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have done it here.”

You can’t really argue with that; out of all of the places Eddie could fight Jason, your job wasn’t your favorite option.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You press onto your toes to whisper in his ear. “I almost did the same thing earlier today.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you confirm, nudging the toe of your shoe against his scuffed sneaker. “And I have a feeling most people in this town would agree with me.” The notion makes Eddie smile, and you continue. “Let me take you and Ol’ Brown Eyes out for ice cream to celebrate your amazing performance. Please?” You throw a puppy-dog look his way, though he needs little convincing.

Still, a nagging thought tugs at him that he has to resolve before can allow himself to relax. “There might be people there. People we know.” People like Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, he silently adds. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can just grab a half-gallon from Bradley’s and bring it home.”

You shake your head, effectively turning down his offer. “I’m taking my boyfriend and his adorable son to Scoops Ahoy, and the three of us are gonna split a fudge sundae,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Are you sure you’re okay with people knowing about us? Being branded ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’? Hearing people gossip about whatever the Hawkins rumor mill has churned out?

The sensation of your lips on his tempers the overworked gear shifts in his brain. When you pull back, you’re smiling at him.

“Positive.”

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lefteagleblizzard · 5 months ago

Text

𝔚𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: Many weeks have passed since your relationship with Mike began. Every chance you got, every break from studying, you spent with the Schmidt siblings, especially on weekends. Today, in particular, the three of you spent the whole day together, which ended with Abby falling asleep in the middle of a board game she insisted on playing despite the late hour. In the process of cleaning everything up, you and Mike start asking each other some questions to get to know each other better. The situation escalated from there.

Warnings: Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Mike can speak Spanish, translation to everything at the end (y’all, every time I watch that video on YouTube of Josh answering the web’s most searched question about him and he starts speaking in Spanish... 🥵) Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Table sex. Reader being called “good boy”. Handjob (M receiving). Rimming (R receiving). Anal sex.

Words count: 4500

Part 1-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The weekend had arrived, bringing with it a much-needed break from college lectures and a chance to spend time with Mike Schmidt and his younger sister, Abby. The three of you had spent the day immersed in simple pleasures: watching Abby's favorite movies, preparing meals together, and even an impromptu dance party in the living room, which left Abby giggling uncontrollably.

As night fell, Abby suggested playing a board game. It was a game designed for children, colorful and straightforward, but its appeal lay more in Abby's enthusiasm than in the gameplay itself.

Mike sat back on the couch, his eyes softening as he watched you and Abby playfully argue over the rules of the board game she insisted on playing. His feelings for you had grown quickly over the past few weeks, and he often found himself marveling at how easily you fit into his life. It was a feeling that both comforted and surprised him-this natural blending of your world with his.

Mike's gaze lingered on you, noticing how you engaged with Abb, your smile genuine and warm, It was moments like these that made him realize just how much you meant to him. The thought of spending nights like this more often, with you by his side, filled him with a profound sense of happiness.

Abby seemed to relish the sight of you and Mike together, often teasing you both with exaggerated gestures of affection.

Whenever you leaned in to kiss Mike or wrap an arm around him, Abby would dramatically roil her eyes, feigning disgust in a way that only a precocious child could. "Ew, you guys are so gross" she'd declare, her face scrunched up, though the playful twinkle in her eye gave her away.

Mike enjoyed playing along with Abby's antics.

He would sometimes pause mid-kiss, turning to her with mock seriousness, "You're just jealous because he can’t resist my charm."

Abby would respond with an exaggerated gag, making you both laugh. "Ugh, please, spare me!" she'd cry, pretending to shield her eyes.

Abby's competitive spirit shone through as she took an early lead, her laughter infectious as she watched the two of you struggle to catch up.

Despite the game's child-like simplicity, you and Mike indulged her, enjoying the shared moments of joy and the occasional eye roll when she pulled off a particularly clever move.

Eventually, the day's excitement took its toll on Abby, and she gradually succumbed to sleep, leaning against Mike's side. Her soft snores were a testament to the fun filled day, and you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

He gently shifted her into his arms, carefully carrying her to her bedroom. The sight of Mike's gentle care warmed your heart, showcasing a side of him that made you admire him even more.

Once Abby was safely tucked into bed, Mike returned to the living room, with a soft sigh, he bent down and kissed you, his lips brushing against yours with affectionate warmth.

"She's out like a light," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

With the game almost cleared away, you caught the hint of reluctance in his demeanor, as if he was fighting the urge to suggest calling it a night. He wanted to savor this rare moment of togetherness, not wanting to seem like the boring type who couldn't keep up.

"Hey," you started, your voice light as you gathered some puzzle pieces into a box, "how about we play a little game while we clean up?"

Mike looked at you, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "A game? Haven't we had enough of those for one night?" he asked, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of fatigue.

He had been running on the relentless schedule of work and caring for Abby, and the idea of simply wrapping you in his arms and falling asleep was incredibly appealing.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued tidying up. "Not that kind of game. I was thinking more of a question game—just you and me. We ask each other questions to get to know each other better. Nothing too serious, just...fun."

Mike hesitated, his instinctive walls coming up. You could see the reluctance in his eyes. He wasn't one to open up easily, even to someone he was dating. The thought of revealing too much too soon probably made him uneasy. But he also didn't want to seem boring or unwilling to engage with you, especially after the perfect day you had spent together. He sighed softly, then gave a small nod, agreeing to your proposal.

"Alright," he said, his voice quiet but warm, "but you go first."

You grinned, pleased that he was willing to play along. You folded up a blanket that had been tossed over the couch.

He sat on the couch and leaned back, stretching his arms with a yawn before picking up some toys scattered there that Abby has hidden in the morning.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?"

Mike paused, thinking it over as he picked up the scattered game pieces from the floor. He was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know," he finally admitted, "I've never really thought about it. I guess.. maybe somewhere quiet. A place where Abby could be happy, where she could run around safely and just be a kid without any worries. Maybe a small town by the coast. She loves the water

You smiled at his answer, not surprised that even his hypothetical dreams were centered around Abby's happiness. "That sounds nice," you said softly, picturing the scene in your mind.

"My turn," Mike said, turning to you as he finished stacking the board games. "What about you? What's something you've always wanted to do but never had the chance to"

The question caught you off guard. You hadn't expected Mike to be so direct, but it was a good kind of surprise. You thought about it for a moment before answering. "I've always wanted to go on a road trip across the country," you admitted. "Just pack up and drive, see where the road takes me. No plans, no schedules, just freedom"

Mike nodded, seeming to understand the appeal. "Your turn, champ," he said, getting comfortable on the couch while he handed you this bag where all of Abby’s toys were.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay alert with a tired smile.

Mike’s head was resting on one of his hands, his eyes half-closed in a relaxed state as he waited for your question.

To break the tension, or perhaps to prolong it, you quickly thought of another question to ask.

"Say something to me in Spanish."

Mike blinked, clearly surprised by the request. You had heard him mumbling to himself in Spanish once before, early one morning when he thought he was alone in the kitchen. You hadn't understood what he had said, but the sound of the language rolling off his tongue had been intoxicating. You had been craving to hear him speak in Spanish again ever since.

Mike raised an eyebrow at your request, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. A small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Your cheeks were already flushing with anticipation.

He studied you for a moment, clearly amused by your request. Without further hesitation, he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he spoke in fluid, flawless Spanish.

"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto," he said, the words flowing effortlessly from his lips

The way he said it, with such ease and confidence, sent a shiver down your spine. There was something undeniably hot about hearing him speak in a language you didn't fully understand, the foreign syllables carrying an air of mystery and allure.

"What... what did you just say?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike rubbed his eyes, clearly tired but still amused by your curiosity.

“It’s a secret,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “But maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll whisper it to you again...sometime.”

Grinning, you gave a nod and smoothly took the bag from his hands. With a swift motion, you began collecting the scattered toys and papers, turning the cleanup into a playful dance.

You could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he pondered a question to satisfy his curiosity. A slow smile crept across his face, transforming into a sly grin. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Before we got together, what’s one dirty thought you had about me?”

A rush of heat surged to your cheeks, and you instinctively placed your head on the table, shoulders shaking with a mix of laughter and embarrassment while you held tightly the bag. "Why did I invent these rules?" you groaned, half in regret and half in amusement.

Mike chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. His eyes went to esaminate the rest of the room, satisfied in seeing that there was almost nothing left. "Come on, you can't back out now. Rules are rules."

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head, your cheeks still burning. "Fine," you said, your voice tinged with shyness. "There was this one time... you were fixing something around the house in a tank top. I don’t really remember what you were fixing, I wasn’t paying attention to that, you know? I was just watching you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about— hmph..." You paused, your voice trailing off as you hesitated.

Mike leaned in, clearly eager to hear more. "Thinking what?" he prompted, his tone encouraging.

You laughed nervously, finally relenting. "i kept making scenarios in my head of you pulling me close and kissing me. And more..."

The tension between you was almost palpable, a charged current that seemed to pulse through the room.

“For the record, I knew you were staring." He whispered softly at you before turning his back at you to pick up some shredded paper from the ground

You smiled softly at him, happy to know that the attraction you felt for him was mutual.

This game you started will end soon.

After moving around to pick up toys and scattered pieces of paper, you started to feel the heat creeping up your neck. You had been so focused on the game and the conversation that you hadn't noticed how warm it had gotten. Tentatively, and feeling a little self-conscious, you decided to take off your shirt to cool down.

You hesitated for a moment before you slowly pulled off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. You felt a little shy, your skin tingling with a mix of nerves and excitement as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

When you finally looked up, you saw Mike staring at you in awe, his gaze fixed on your chest. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, and you suddenly felt very self-aware.

He caught your eye and winked, a gesture that sent your heart racing. In a fit of playful defiance, you grabbed your shirt and threw it at him, your cheeks burning under his gaze.

Mike raised an arm to shield himself from the attack, laughing quietly as the shirt hit him squarely in the chest. His grin widened, clearly amused by your reaction. "Hey, no fair! Can't blame a guy for appreciating the view.” He protested, but the grin on his face told you he was anything but annoyed.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling both shy and bold at the same time.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, the room was clean, and there was nothing left to distract you from the simmering tension between you. You turned to Mike, a sudden idea popping into your mind-a bold request that you weren't sure you had the courage to voice, but the thought of his hands on you was too tempting to resist.

"Hey," you began, your voice a little hesitant, "how about a reward for all that cleaning?"

Mike looked at you, intrigued. "What kind of reward are we talking about?" he asked as he leaned in slightly.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as you worked up the nerve to ask. "A massage," you finally said, your voice almost a whisper. "On my back. I could use one after all that moving around."

He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Sure," he agreed, his voice low and velvety. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up as he asked, "Where would it be more comfortable for you?"

Without overthinking it, you moved closer to him and, in a swift motion, settled yourself onto his lap, your back facing him. He let out a surprised huff, followed by a low grunt as he adjusted to your weight.

"Easy there," he murmured, clearly taken off guard by your boldness. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your hips. "You're getting a little too good at this teasing thing."

"Everything okay, old man?" you teased, laughter bubbling up inside you.

"You're lucky I like you," he shot back, grinning as his hands settled on your back.

Settling into Mike's lap, you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with a warmth that spread from your cheeks down to your toes.

You could sense Mike adjusting slightly, finding the right balance to support you as his hands settled onto your shoulders. The touch was gentle at first, exploratory, as if he was reacquainting himself with every curve and line of your back. His fingers pressed into the muscles at the base of your neck, drawing out a sigh from you that was part relief, part pleasure.

"You've got a lot of tension here," Mike murmured, his voice low and intimate, the kind of tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I blame you for that," you teased, your own voice barely above a whisper.

His hands moved with practiced ease, kneading the knots and tightness with a care that was both soothing and intoxicating. Each stroke of his fingers felt deliberate, a careful balance between pressure and gentleness that sent warmth spreading through your body. You couldn't help but lean back slightly, closer against him, feeling the heat of his body seep into yours.

"Comfortable?" Mike asked, his breath warm against your ear.

"Very," you replied, the word coming out more like a contented sigh. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access, the gesture both an invitation and an acknowledgment of trust.

His hands traveled lower, fingers tracing the contours of your spine with a touch that was both firm and featherlight. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips.

Mike's fingers splayed across your lower back, his thumbs working in tandem to soothe the tension from the long day. You could feel the strength in his hands, the surety of his touch, and it made you acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies.

"You're really good at this," you murmured, the words slipping out between soft sighs of pleasure.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. "I used to give Abby back rubs when she couldn't sleep.” he replied, his voice a deep rumble that resonated in your chest.

You couldn't help but shift slightly, pressing back against him, the motion eliciting a low hum of approval from him that sent your heart racing.

"You're making this very difficult for me to concentrate."

You smiled, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. "Who said I wanted you to concentrate?"

He laughed softly, a sound that wrapped around you like a favorite blanket, comforting and familiar.

You could feel your heart beating a little faster, your breath coming a little shorter, as if every cell in your body was attuned to the anticipation building between you.

Mike shifted beneath you, adjusting his position slightly, and the movement brought you even closer together, your bodies aligning in a way that was both natural and exhilarating.

You felt a surge of courage that prompted you to turn slightly, shifting so that you could see his face more clearly.

Mike met your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that mirrored your own. There was a moment of silence before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was filled with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and when you opened up to him, the kiss deepened into something raw and primal.

But it was the way he moaned against your mouth that sent a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins, the sound low and rough, vibrating through your very core. The moan was muffled, almost swallowed by the intensity of the kiss, but it resonated in the pit of your stomach, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward.

And then he rotated your head slightly, his hand gripping your chin as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled with the effort to maintain control, and it was intoxicating, the knowledge that he was holding back for you.

His hands slid down to your waist, and he pulled you even closer, your chest flush against his as he guided your movements with ease. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He broke the kiss only to whisper against your lips, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "My good boy," he breathed, his words a caress that resonated deep within you, leaving you yearning for more.

Mike's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure.

As he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin, he whispered with a husky tenderness that made your heart flutter, "Such a good boy for me.”

His mouth found its way to your neck, pressing kisses.

"Mike...”. you whispered, your voice a breathy plea, filled with a need that you couldn't quite put into words. "Speak to me... in Spanish... please."

The request hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you wondered if he would oblige. But then, his lips were at your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he began to speak, the words flowing from his mouth in a rich, rolling cadence that made your heart skip a beat.

"Eres mi chico bueno," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with a intensity that made your knees weak. "Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío."

You didn't need to understand every word to know what he was saying, the intent was clear in the way his voice caressed each syllable, his tone heavy with adoration.

His hand slid up your back, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he bent down to press a kiss to your shoulder, the gesture so tender, so filled with reverence that it made your chest tighten with emotion. You could feel the way his body trembled against yours, the effort to maintain control evident in every movement, every breath.

But it was the way he continued to speak, his voice low and breathy, that sent shivers down your spine, the words a mixture of praise and profanity that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

"Me vuelves loco," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto."

"Mi chico perfecto," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a depth of feeling that made your chest tighten with emotion, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessive hunger that made your knees weak.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself drowning in the sensation, your body pressing against his in a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of him.

"Eres mío," he murmured, his words a promise, a vow that resonated deep within you. "Solo mío."

The declaration sent a thrill of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, the sound quickly muffled by his kiss. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one, to erase the space that dared to separate you.

And as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and bites along the sensitive skin there, you felt the world around you fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of pure, unbridled passion.

Mike shifted, rising from the chair with you in his arms and he carried you to the table with a grace that left you breathless.

The cool surface met your skin as he bent you over the table, a contrast that heightened the warmth of his body pressing against you. His hands roamed with a newfound urgency.

His lips followed the path his hands had charted, pressing kisses that were both gentle and insistent.

You couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, a sound of pure pleasure that echoed in the quiet room. Mike responded with a deep, resonant grunt, a primal sound that spoke of his own rising desire.

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a playful reprimand. But his own breath was ragged.

Mike's hands found yours, interlocking your fingers as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back in a gesture that spoke of unity and devotion. His breath was warm against your ear, his whispered words a balm that soothed and ignited in equal measure.

His hand finds the front of your sweats, breaking your train of thought, and he smiles when you gasp softly.

"You're hard."

"Have been for a while," is all you say, face hot.

He just nods before kissing you again, hand rubbing against your bulge with his other one still on your rear.

His hands make haste with the strings of your sweatpants, loosening it just enough to reach in and grab your hard cock, releasing it from the confines of the fabric with a satisfied look. He rubs you softly, thumb placing just beneath the head, soaking in your noises.

He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. It’s rather unfortunate that he must silence your pretty sounds but the vibration of your moans against his mouth makes up for the loss.

Mike was always this way - the pleasurer, rather than the pleased. Trust that he was always happily pleased with his time with you, with your reactions and moans, asking for more, but in general, he just wasn't the type to seek out his own gratification before giving you yours. Part of it riled you up inside, part of it made your heart yearn for him all the more.

He strokes you and you curl into him. It’s as though his fingers are laced with poison. And yet, his lips somehow carry the antidote.

Mike positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans. The sight alone has you begging whatever gods may be for some kind of release, not that you’d ever repent for your sinful thoughts when it came to this man. Even if it meant going to something resembling Heaven. You’ve already experienced such a reality and he was right in front of you, rubbing his hardening self against you with no remorse or embarrassment.

Your hands reach down to finally feel him, the way he twitches against your touch, the way he groans just above you.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction, and you chuckle before giving it to him. You buckle his belt and take him out of his jeans and boxers and revel at the sight.

He reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you, "Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así."

You whine at the praise, face heating up even more - you didn't know that was even possible.

"I, I want-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours.

Mike kisses you again, understanding you regardless, and chuckles as he lets go of the both of you to help you shimmy off your pants completely.

His fingers find again the curves of your ass and he grins widely, groaning at the sight. The flat surface of his tongue laps up your hole, sopping up the area to make it easier for his thumb. He pushes the digit into your enclosure, slow yet eager.

"Mike," you sigh, eyes shut as you focus desperately on his touch.

Your hands clenched into fists on the cold table.

His tongue finally - thankfully - pushes past the precipice, your hips rising at the feeling. Already, your dick twitches in ecstasy, wanting more, wanting release. You can feel the way his facial hair curls upwards against you.

He spits once at your hole as he pulls away, his chin slick from his preparations. Two fingers pass easily through and leave you to crumble beneath him, scissoring them apart to make room for one more, rolling your head against the table, thrashing about as if you were being tortured.

He positions himself at your entrance. "Ready?"

You nod with furrowed brows and god, when he pushes the tip slowly past your rim, you swear you could die.

He pushes in steadily, slow but never faltering. He stretches you so well. You groan, a mix of pain and satisfaction flooding your senses. He holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the curves to soothe you as he seeks pleasure of his own deep within you.

You feel his dick twitch against your walls. He rolls his hips, aiming for that spot that drives you to madness. The angle allows this easily, your mind going blank as you become solely aware of the feeling of him entering and exiting your hole. He finds his rhythm, keeping his hands on you as he guides himself in and out, loving the way your ass looks as it ripples with every thrust. He moves his hand from your stomach down to your dick, holding it against the skin of his palm, fingers wrapping around you.

He strokes you at a pace mimicking his own movements, and your brain begins to steam, overcome with heat and desire.

"Shit," you grit, finally opening your eyes.

Your hips buck upward and his thumb shifts against your head as a result, sending you over the edge, spilling over his hand and onto your stomach.

Mike groans at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, pace quickening as he longs to join you in your ecstasy before thrusting a final time, moaning low as he spills.

Warmth spreads over you as he keeps himself slotted within. His hand rests on your stomach.

"You good?" He asks with a soft and reassuring cadence, leaning over to kiss your collarbone as his hands rub up and down your sides.

You nod, satisfied. He chuckles softly at your expression, taking it in affectionately.

As you turned to face him, you saw the exhaustion etched on his face, and your heart softened. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, his eyelids heavy as he tried to keep his gaze focused on you.

"Mike," you whispered, reaching up to gently caress his face, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. "You look like you're about to pass out."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he let out a deep, tired sigh. "I'm so tired," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for the man before you. "Let’s get cleaned up real quickly," you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Mike's eyes opened slightly, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "You're too good to me," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

You shook your head, your smile widening as you helped him to his feet. "No, Mike. We're good for each other."

Later on, as you curled up together in bed, Mike's arms wrapped securely around you, his breath warm against your neck, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, with love and trust as foundation.

As Mike drifted off to sleep, his body relaxed against yours, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, feeling utterly content.

Note: I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who read the first part of this. Your support and kind words mean the world to me and have truly inspired me to continue writing.

I hope you enjoy this second part just as much as the first. Your feedback and encouragement are incredibly motivating, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this continuation of the story.

Thank you once again for all the love and support!

Translation for all the words in Spanish (done with the help of my brother so blame him for any errors)

-"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto"= "You are a beautiful and perfect boy"

-"Eres mi chico bueno" = "You're my good boy"

-"Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío." = "My precious, the most beautiful I've ever seen. You're mine."

-"Me vuelves loco" = "You drive me crazy"

-"No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto." = "I can't... resist you. You are so perfect, so damn perfect."

-"Mi chico perfecto" = "My perfect boy"

-"Eres mío" = "You're mine"

-"Solo mío" = "Only mine"

-"Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así." = “You're so fucking handsome like that."

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withwritersblock · 8 months ago

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Think Later

~think later by Tate McRae~

Author's Note: Requested! I love this song so mf much Summary: Jack and Luke's sister is in town to visit when she finds a different Devil's player more interesting Warnings: implied smut, a very brief mention of toxic relationships Word Count: 1,585 Nico Hischer vs. Hughes fm!reader

Jack pulled his gear from his shoulders, letting out a huff of air. The team had beaten the Bruins in a 4-2 win. Where he scored two goals. He was excited to get out of the locker room because his older sister was in town. Her flight landed an hour before the game started, she barely had to time to go to Jack’s apartment and drop her bag off.

“You guys going to Jerry’s?” Nico asked. It was bar and restaurant that the team liked to go to after they won games. Or even after horrible losses. Jack shot a look towards Luke across the room. Luke took a deep breath.

“Our sister is in town, she might want to just go home,” Jack offered. Nico perked upward, a smirk toyed to his lips.

It was safe to say, he has crushed on Y/N since the first time he met her. It was during Jack’s rookie season, she stayed with Jack for a few weeks. Jack was struggling emotionally for a lot of his rookie year, and having his older sister in town was simply enough to help him get through it.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jack pointed towards Nico. The locker room was pretty empty at this point, most of the guys had showered and left already. Luke furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he whipped his head around.

“I wasn’t-” Nico started but Luke interrupted.

“She just got out of a relationship,” Luke let out as he walked towards Nico.

“I said I wasn’t thinking about it,” Nico defended as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m gonna hit the showers,” Nico continued as he had a small smirk on his lips.

It took another twenty minutes before both Jack and Luke left the locker room to see their older sister Y/N waiting for them. Luke smiled widely as he quickly made his way towards her. She gladly opened her arms for her youngest brother.

She was technically the oldest. She was older than Quinn by twelve minutes. A fact she constantly reminded Quinn of. She was the only Hughes kid that lacked any interest in hockey, other than her brothers playing. She was a theatre kid, which was a complete one-eighty to what her parents childhoods were like. Her brothers were always more than supported.

She felt teary-eyed as she engulfed her younger brother in a tight hug. This was the first time she saw Luke play in person in the Devils jersey. Her ex-boyfriend was a really difficult guy and wouldn’t let her travel on her own. He never wanted to spend the money to travel, so she never went to see the games. She was tightly wrapped her arms around his neck tightly.

“Good job, Lukey Boy,” she let out as she pulled away meeting his eye. He smiled softly as he blinked away his own tears in his eye. She moved away from Luke towards Jack. “What a game, J,” she mumbled as she hugged him tightly.

“Thanks, how are you feeling? Up for Jerry’s?” he said as he pulled away, his eyes slightly teary. She nodded dramatically.

“Oh god, my rich brothers buying me drinks all night? How could I say no?” she asked as she stared walking towards the parking garage, blindly hoping they’d show her where Luke’s car was.

They stepped into Jerry’s to see the entire bar was the team and their partners. The three of them walked towards the bar. Nico was sitting alone, nursing a beer as he kept his gaze on the TV screen replaying their game. It was in the middle of the first period. Jack patted on his shoulder, pulling his attention towards him.

“Nico, you remember our sister, Y/N!” he let out loudly, over the noise of the bar. Nico met Jack’s eye for a second before he turned his gaze towards Y/N. Her eyes widened slightly as she met his gaze. The smirk on her lips quickly went away as fast as it appeared. Jack gave him a visual warning, a small head shake. “I’m gonna get us drinks, Lukey what do you want?” Jack shifted his attention towards Luke.

“Nico, it’s nice to meet you again,” she offered as she stood beside him, close enough their arms could touch at any moment. He turned his gaze towards her, his heart beating hard against his chest.

“You too, Y/N,” he licked his lip as he shifted his gaze towards Jack and Luke behind her.

“What do you want?” Jack asked smacking his hand against her back. She jolted suddenly, looking towards the bartender.

“Tequila soda extra lime, please,” she expressed. The bartender nodded as he began to work.

“Are you sure? Tequila may not-”

“Jack,” she scolded. He nodded reluctantly as he leaned against the bartop. Over his entire life, he knew to never argue with his older sister. She was feisty and could easily ruin him. She turned her gaze back towards Nico.

He never once looked away from her features. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t breath as she was so stunning. She knew it too. The second she met Nico’s gaze, she pursed her lips forward. She tried to not smile.

“Bold choice,” Nico muttered as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. They were glossed with a red color. She shrugged slightly.

“Boring choice,” she pointed towards the beer in his hand. Nico dropped his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Trying to act all tough in front of your teammates?”

“I don’t need to try, I am,” he never wavered eye contact as he brought his beer towards his lips. He took a small sip.

The bartender slid the tequila soda towards her. She smiled politely towards the bartender as she brought the glass towards her lips. Taking a sip, it tasted perfect.

“At least my drink has flavor,” she mumbled as she took another sip. Jack and Luke got their beers and were long gone, didn’t want to stay to witness Nico hit on their sister. Or even worse, their sister play along.

“It has flavor,” he defended, taking a sip of the beer. Cringing at the taste, her eyes widened as she chuckled. He smiled, “Didn’t say good flavor,”

She leaned towards him, sliding her glass over, “Go ahead, try it,” she expressed. He clenched his jaw as he reluctantly placed his beer down. He hesitantly took a hold of the short glass. “Come on it’s so good,” she offered as she delicately rested her hand onto his forearm. He smirked towards her as he took a small sip. He quickly pulled his face away, his face scrunch together.

“Oh that’s awful,” he barely got out.

“Oh come on!” she groaned out as she pulled the glass towards her, “You’re joking,” she let out. He shook his head, quickly pulling beer towards his lips.

“No, that was horrible,”

It had been an hour since she showed up to the bar, and it was pretty obvious that her and Nico were into one another. Jack would show up between them every so often, trying to shut down whatever was happening but it wasn’t working.

“You know, I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” Nico let out as he tilted his head to the side. He scraped at the label of his beer bottle. She squinted her eyes slightly.

“Why’s that?” she pulled her lip gloss from her front pocket and slowly started applying it to her lips.

“Jack doesn’t want me involved with you,” he let out. She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“He can’t control who I talk to, or who I get involved with,” she explained confidently. She shoved her lip gloss back into her pocket as she hopped off the stool. She seductively ran her hand across his arm, slowly gripping his bicep.

“I live across the street,” he mumbled as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. She nodded as she slowly ran her hand down his arm again, interlocking her fingers with his.

“I just got out of a bad relationship,” she explained, meeting his gaze, “Bad in more ways than one,” she let out. Hoping he caught on. He nodded as he cleared his throat.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he stood up from his stool, guiding her towards the bar exit. Y/N’s met Luke’s gaze from across the bar.

He tried to hold in his laughter as he watched Nico drag Y/N out of the bar. Luke smacked his hand against Jack’s arm. Jack and Dawson both shifted their gaze towards Luke. “Caps hooking up with our sister,” he let out, subtly pointing towards Y/N stepping out of the bar. He started laughing. Dawson tried to keep his laughter inside as he saw Jack’s angry expression.

“That motherfuc-”

Nico continued guiding Y/N across the street towards his apartment complex. They stepped into the lobby, he nodded towards the receptionist as he walked towards the elevator. He pressed the up button multiple times.

“Think once is enough,” she whispered. He rolled his eyes playfully as the doors opened. He took a hold of her waist, pulling her inside.

“Once is never enough,” he muttered as he pressed the button to his floor. He quickly guided her towards the back of the elevator, devouring her lips in the process.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled against his lips as she ran her fingers through the ends of his hair.

#nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagines #nico hischier #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #nj devils #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils

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silkval · 1 year ago

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♞】 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴- 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 Ⅱ

how much do the genshin boys crave your attention, and whats their style?

★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★

♢】 scale of neediness

》 patience ★★★☆☆

》 intensity ★★★★☆

》 frequency ★★☆☆☆

》 touchiness ★★★★☆

》 publicity ★☆☆☆☆

oh, xiao, what a gorgeous little pet he is. quiet, obedient, loyal as a dog- and as protective as one, too. just the perfect darling who was at your beck and call at every moment, quite literally- need some company? a pretty face to look at? a sopping hole to fuck? He would be at your feet instantly, albeit a little red-faced and stuttery, despite how many times this very scenario had previously occurred. It was clear that he was absolutely smitten with you, always ready to fulfil your every desire and be by your side.

the poor boy couldn't even spend more than a week without your presence, constantly seeking reassurance and attention. It was both endearing and slightly suffocating- not that you minded, though. it was certainly quite the sight to see when your darling xiao would appear before you could even finish calling his name, already staring up at you with those gorgeous, gilded eyes- pupils wide as he’d cock his head, staring at you expectantly as his hands went to find purchase in yours- waiting to be order on his knees or to bend over a table- anything, for you.

…but oh, when you nonchalantly mentioned that you'd be away on a business trip for a few days in inazuma? oh. oh… he could handle that, couldn't he? he’d be a good boy, he promised- so with that, the conversation was over and done with, whisked away by the night of pleasure that followed suit.

until it had been a few days since your departure- and xiao was losing it.

As the days passed, Xiao's longing for your return grew more intense. Every moment without you felt like an eternity, and his touchiness increased as he yearned for your presence. His patience, once a strong suit, was tested as he anxiously awaited your arrival. The publicity of his desires once kept between the two of you, began to wane and seep into his every move as his desperation for your attention grew.

tsk, the poor thing- it only took three days for xiao's stoic facade to crumble. He was aching for your touch, your voice, your very presence. he thought he'd be able to bare it; hell, he had spent centuries with no company but the depths of his thoughts before. but now that he had you? it had barely been the first day since you had left and he had already started counting down the hours.

…but that didn't last long.

day 4. and the poor thing just couldn't handle it. he had been desperately grasping onto one of your favourite scarves that you had left behind for him, the soft fabric pressed flush against the pinked tip of his nose as a restless pout graced his lithe features- where he had been positioned for the last… 10 hours. trying to get some damn sleep. but how could he, without your presence? it was too, too much. within the blink of an eye, xiao appeared in front of you- unprompted. right in the middle of your bed with the mere whisp of smoke, resulting in a very… confused reaction on your behalf.

but of course, that didn't last long- you could barely let out a questioning hum before your darlings hands had already found their way against your skin, the smaller male gasping at the mere contact, yet not wasting a second before pulling his frame directly to yours as if you were a magnet- before whisking you both away, leaving only a swirl of smoke in your path as you now reappeared in your shared bedroom- that was… quite the mess.

from the nest-like flurry of blankets and your clothes strewn in some strange order on your bed to the box of tissues half used and scattered around- some dampened with tears, others dripping with slick- it was clear xiao had certainly got a little desperate.

…even more so, when you were interrupted by xiao swiftly tugging your body against his, both of you tumbling down against the plush of your bed- but before you could react, the needy little thing was already writing beneath you, soft pants and strained whines a dangerous combination with that look of his… oh, just how could you deny him?

“aww, looks like someone missed me quite a bit, hm, princess? go on, then- be a darling and spread your legs for me, yeah?”

#【writings #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #sub xiao #genshin impact #dom reader #sub character #genshin x reader #sub genshin impact #top reader

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willowed-wisp · 1 month ago

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gaz as a dad (part two) [ kyle garrick ]

part one |

- Puts on a brave face to you and he’s leaving for deployment but you know he’s dying on the inside- running the statistics through his head of his chances of survival

- Your daughter’s first word was in facts, “Dada”, she’s such a daddy’s girl.

- It’s hell for you when he’s away having a one year old who doesn’t know where her dad is, playing old videos of him to keep her sane

- All the while you were pregnant with your little girl. Kyle misses kissing your stomach every hour of the day, even when you weren’t pregnant he’ll do it

- You’re about 4-5 months along when he leaves.

- Kyle has two older sisters (he’s the baby of the family) and they treat you like their own blood in the best way possible

- They are taking you out baby shopping while he’s away, they’re staying over to spend time with your daughter

- Don’t get started with Kyle’s mum, she may be the in-law ever. Kyle’s dad left and never came back when he was young

- Everyday is a party to them, they’re so joyous and you see why Kyle is so well adjusted and a proper gentleman

- They live just around the corner and you go round every other night for dinner with your little girl and little bump

- They sympathise with you when Kyle is away, his mother didn’t understand why he enlisted into the army to begin with but over the years she saw the glint in his eye

- Like you had- he lived to fight the shadow wars… though he preferred to spend time with his family in more recent times

- After having a child, his relationship with his family, his mother especially, healed.

- He’s low-key jealous that his sisters steal you away and spend more time with you than he gets to

- But he’s so glad you get along with them- they can be picky and have never liked anyone brought home before

- Kyle returns when you are about to pop, 8 months pregnant and he doesn’t know when he’s getting redeployed

- No matter how many times it would happen, Kyle isn’t sure he’d ever remain composed in the delivery room.

- But what had remained the same with your birthing is that he feels so still and grounded when holding his children in his arms

- Your eldest is a mini him and your youngest is a mini you

- He’s sent back out four months later, but for a shorter time period.

- When he comes back, you’re not okay… he found you crying in the shower away from your kids in the middle of the night

- “Please don’t leave us…” He must be the most understanding partner, he battles demons in his head everyday but it hits different when it’s the love of his life, mother of his children who is suffering outwardly

- Sobbing in his clothed arms

- He had read about post-partum depression and he is an actual angel when it comes to dealing with it

- He takes on more tasks so you can have your own space but always curls up around you on the sofa

- Your eldest girl attempts to climb up and Kyle helps her

- Is so good with kids dealing with his nieces and nephews

- Grew up in a house full of women, that’s why he’s so endearing and thoughtful about you

- Kyle was so nervous to ask his Captain such a bold question, Price had seen photos of your daughters so he knew they existed

- He also lived not too far from your house so he came over and got into a wrestling match that your eldest won (definitely let her win lol)

- “Sir, since we’re speaking casually… Y/N and I were wondering if you were wanted to be the godfather to the girls…”

- John had never been asked that before and hold back the tears welling. A hand on Kyle’s shoulder, a nod, “Of course I will, Sergeant.”

- His sisters are the godmothers and maybe someone close to you as the other godfather

- About three years into the relationship when your eldest daughter is about 2 and the youngest is nearly 1, you tie the knot.

- Nothing too extravagant, he didn’t like being centre of attention…

- Only the closest people there: his mum, sisters, Simon, Johnny, Price and your closest family you’re in contact with

- You may or not be pregnant with bubba no. 3…

- Spoilers! Baby boy on the way

————

cod m.list | request guidelines | gaz m.list

#gaz garrick x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz x you #gaz x y/n #kyle gaz x reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #dad!gaz #cod modern warfare #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw x reader #cod mwii #price cod #call of duty

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mjolnirswriststrap · 9 months ago

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SCARED

Neighbor!Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Word Count: 2,519 ⭐️Masterlist⭐️

Summary: I loosely based this off of a real life event of mine, so if things don’t make sense, ask God 🤣🤣

Warnings: Agegap, neighbor!bucky, adultery, 18+ not quite smut but I don’t want childen reading anything I write 🤷🏻‍♀️ suggestive or not.

Spending the summer with your aunt wasnt something you planned for when school ended. It meant church every Sunday, and Wednesday night. It meant no wifi and being stranded in a strange town on the border of Georgia and Alabama.

You’d never been to Georgia and the possibility of driving to Florida to go to the beach was enough to convince you 5 weeks wasn’t that long. The 10 hour drive there lasted longer than the summer escape.

The first few weeks were exactly what you expected. Church, shopping, eating your aunts famous fried chicken livers, talking on the porch late into the night. On the third Sunday, after church, she informs you that you’re taking a trip to Alabama. Her grandson is coming to spend the week. You both needed to go pick him up from her daughter.

It took 4 hours to get there, napping made it feel like 30 minutes. Your aunt pulled up to a trailer park, and you scan your surroundings. You were even further in the middle of nowhere, then what you were at your aunts house. You always wanted to know the way out. But here, a 2 mile dirt road separates you from the highway you turned off of. You take notice of the neighbors, one had a pool out front, some older ladies floating on pool noodles waved at your aunt, they must know her. The neighbors on the other side of your cousins house weren’t so inviting.

You saw a toddler sitting in the dirt crying. Watching up at his parents flinging spit in each others faces. You avert your gaze when the man flicks his eyes over to you. You know men like that, they’re terrifying and unpredictable. He could walk over to you and start on you just for glancing in his direction. Your aunt ushers you into her daughters house, not wanting you to see the altercation.

You hadn’t seen your cousin since you were a little girl. Now she has a little boy. It was weird. Your family was so large, it was impossible to keep up with everyone. You had many cousins you hadn’t seen since Christmas of ‘06. After a ham sandwich and barbecue chips you were ready to leave, it was more boring here, and your cousin even had cable. You aunt must’ve noticed your boredom, offering a swim in her friends pool out front.

“But I didn’t bring a bathing suit?” You say grinning, knowing you’d go naked if it meant you could swim. “Just wear your bra and I’ll go ask the neighbor if she has some shorts that will fit you.” Your aunt says, swinging open the screen door. You nod your head, quickly braiding your hair to keep it out of your face. You almost lose your spot, twisting knots into your hair when the blonde woman from next door walks in, smiling. “Hey, your aunt said you needed some shorts?”.

You hop up from the couch. “Yes, thank you, I don’t know if we’re even close to the same size but what can it hurt to try?” You give her a soft smile. She looked like a wounded animal. She was way too nice to be getting yelled at like that. You wonder what set him off. But you know better than to ask. “Tanya, your kids crying.” You both look behind her to the open door. The dark haired man was standing there, looking thoroughly disgusted. When his eyes find you again, you have nowhere to hide. “Your aunt says you guys are staying the night.” He informs you, walking away. You furrow your eyebrows, why wouldn’t your aunt tell you that herself?

“She did, James needs a ride into town tomorrow and your aunt couldn’t say no.” She gives you a tight lipped smile. She knows a young girl would rather be spending her summer somewhere else. Once you squeezed into the shorts, you bolted to the pool, with a quick introduction to Sherry and Barb, sisters who owned the park. They were nice, asked you questions and treated you like family. Your aunt must really know them, you had no clue how.

Tanya and your aunt walked across the grass and climbed into the pool. Tanya tightly held onto a bottle of Budweiser, letting you know the night was already starting. You dunk your head, wanting to wash away the sweat from your forehead. When you resurface you see James stomping towards the pool, his shirt missing and motor oil smeared on his chest. “Drinking beer but not watching your kid I wish I could be surprised.” That’s when you notice a little boy in his hands, floaties tightly wrapped around his arms and body. He snatched the brown bottle from her hands, tossing the boy into the pool. “I got shit to do.” He walked away, finishing the beer and throwing the empty bottle to the ground.

After two more hours in the pool, your cousin came out looking for your aunt, leaving you alone with the Tanya and the baby. “Are you happy?” You finally ask, only because you’re truly alone with her. Her eyes well with tears, she shakes her head no. You move across the pool grabbing the boy you’d become acquainted with. You pulled yourself out of the water, not bothering to dry off, but you wrapped the boy in a towel. The sun was setting and it wasn’t warm enough for him to be out here wet. “I’ll be right back.” You give her a firm nod, carrying him in the direction of her house. She just watched helplessly as you turn the corner out of site.

Your heart started beating faster as you walked up to the trailer, knocking on the door. You try to think of what to say as you wait for him to open the door. You hear cursing from the other side before it’s swung open. He stands there for a minute, holding the door open before you realize he’s inviting you in. You step up, still holding onto the toddler. You don’t move from the doormat, afraid of tracking water through the house. “You can lay him down on the couch.” He says, pointing toward the corner of the room. You nod, padding your feet across the cold linoleum. You didn’t even notice the boy fell asleep in your arms, swimming always tuckers out kids. You straighten your back when you feel water droplets sliding down the inside of your thigh, pooling water at your feet.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even dry off before bringing him.” You look at the ground, wondering how you could fix the wet footprints that painted his floor. “I’m not.” He says but you barely catch it. “Huh?” You ask.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s just water honey.” You look up at him, not believing his sincerity. His blue eyes are piercing into yours. “Okay, well I better get back to the pool.” He watches you as you walk out of the door, he doesn’t make room for you to slip past him, causing you to turn your body towards him, he smelled good, you don’t know how. He was covered in black dirt from under the car, and sweat. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt and his tanned skin was so smooth, save for the happy trail growing up his stomach.

He was a lot older than you, more than 15 years, you’d guess. But you couldn’t tell standing this close to him. Your brain forces you out of the door. If you stood there in the tension for a second longer you don’t know what stupid thing would come out of your mouth. When you got back to the pool everyone had rejoined Tanya, even your aunt and cousin were drinking. You escape to your cousins house, changing back into your leggings and putting on your t-shirt. You check on your baby cousin, he’s sleeping in his room, not a worry in the world. You take the chance to spend a minute alone and turn on the tv.

You don’t even care to change the channel, SpongeBob played, lulling you to sleep. You’re awoken by your aunt, handing you the neighbor boy. “Will you watch him for a minute?” You just nod, and she’s out of the house. You peak through the curtain to see blue lights out front. Why are the cops here? You rock the boy to sleep, laying him down beside your cousin in his bed. When you walk outside everyone’s gone. The cops, your aunt, the neighbors. “What the hell.” You say out loud. You go knock on Sherrys door, hoping your aunt was there. But no one answered. Walking across the grass field someone caught your attention. It’s James, yelling at his trailer. “You don’t love me anyways, bitch.” He throws another beer bottle, this one smashes against the siding of the house. “I should’ve never fucked you and let you have my kid.” You stop in your tracks when he turns around, obviously drunk. “Hey.” He says, slowly walking towards you. “Are you okay?” You ask naïve as ever.

“I’m a good person, right?” He asks. You don’t know what to say, not wanting to tip him off that you were shitting your pants right now.

“Yes, you seem like a really good dad.” You’re trying to deescalate. “I am.” His voice is a little louder than it should be. “I don’t doubt it.” You’re still standing in the same spot, too afraid to move. “You’re nice.” He says, smiling widely. You give him one back, he hadn’t done anything to you yet, you weren’t going to give him a reason to.

It was no secret that you were nervous. Your breathing was fast and your eyes kept darting past him. “You don’t have to be scared. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He throws his hands in the air. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He says, stepping closer to you again. “Everyone hurts me. Treats me like I’m not worth anything.” He lets his head hang, and you start to feel guilt building inside of you, this man just needed someone to lean on. “I’m not worthless, right?” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes. You know he’s drunk, but this pain was real.

“You’re worth more than you know.” It was cliche, but a true blanket statement, no one knows their true worth. “Thank you.” He says, wiping his eyes. “I just need someone to hold me for once.” You felt that, you knew exactly what he meant. “Wanna hug?” You offer, knowing that sometimes that’s all people need, church the last three weeks had taught you that. Sometimes a smile and a handshake is all the human contact people get all week.

He just looks at you, expecting you to close the gap between you. So you do, you walk towards him, fear in the form of sweat, still dripping from you. You give him a warm smile as you lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his middle. His hands quickly found your hips, pulling you even closer to him. He squeezed you tightly, and you swear you hear him smell your hair. You try to pull away after an awkward silence falls over the two of you, but he won’t let you go.

“I’m sorry you’re going through stuff man, I am.” You say, patting his shoulder to tell him to let go. You feel his body go rigid against yours so you think he’s crying again. Drunk tears are never ending. “It’s okay.” You wrap your arms around him again, rubbing up and down his bare back. You try to pull away again, this time saying something “Don’t want Tanya to come out here and catch you hugging a stranger, probably best we let go now.”

His silence was a thousand words. Then he spoke, “You can’t do that.” He says lowly. You pull away and try to look at his face. “What are you talking about?” You ask, fear filling you again. He looks into your eyes, letting one of his hands slide down to the curve of your ass. You instantly put your hands on his chest and try to push him away. “You can’t be sweet to me and expect me not to like it.” His voice was different now, desperate. He presses his face into your neck, sloppily kissing up to your jaw.

Your heart is beating out of your chest now, and you stop fighting, not wanting to anger him. “You don’t want to cheat on your wife, you’re just drunk.” You try to break through to him. “You don’t know me.” He says, pulling you towards the back yard. “No I don’t, but you seem like a good man, don’t let a drunken mistake ruin what you’ve built for yourself.” You keep trying to persuade him.

“I wasn’t drunk earlier, when I watched you bend over in my living room, dripping wet. I wanted you then, just didn’t say anything.” He says, pressing you against your cousins house. He breathes in your face, and you smell more than beer on his breath, whiskey was pungently invading your nose. “So what? You like me or something?” You ask, confused on where this was going.

“Something like that.” He says, pressing his lips to yours. You’re shocked, you thought you were gonna be able to talk your way out of it. “This isn’t right.” You stop the kiss, nodding towards his trailer. You look between his eyes and try to find some common sense. “Then why does it feel right?” He grabs your hand, forcing you to cup the hard mass in his pants.

You gasp, you’d never felt one before, your virginity not up for debate, you’d never even had a boyfriend. “See, you like it too.” It’s like he’s trying to convince you. You look between him and the houses, searching for a witness. When you couldn’t find a soul, you stop fighting all together. He feels your body relax and takes it as permission to pull your leggings down. “Hey!” You say, but you guess it was too loud for his liking because he covers your mouth with his hand, looking you dead in the eye while his fingers push past your panties and dip inside of you. “You like being scared little girl?” He pulls his hand away from you, licking his fingers and tasting you.

Him reading you like a book was also a turn on. You stay silent, telling him everything he needs to know. He twist your body, pressing your face into the plastic. “Maybe you like it rough too, huh?” He slaps your bare ass, rubbing the raised red welt to soothe it.

You whimper, you’re going to let him have his way with you. If this was the only eventful thing that happens this summer, then what the hell. Tanya wasn’t happy and neither was he, who were you to interfere with destiny?

#avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #neighbor!bucky

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago

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Day 4: Authority/Power Difference - Lee Bodecker

Summary: He was the sheriff, happily married and your dad’s boss. So why was he leaning down to kiss you in the middle of his office?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, virgin!reader, coercion, innocence kink, authority kink, age gap, cheating, possessive, oral (f receiving), fingering, manipulation

masterlist 📚

kinktober masterlist😈

AO3 Link

“Hello? Is anybody here? Dad?” you called into the darkened police station, fear beginning to tickle the fine hair on the back of your neck. The door had been unlocked, and your father told you to visit at this time so he could safely drive you home. So where was everyone? Even at this late hour, the receptionist wasn’t here to greet you like usual.

Walking further into the dark building, you finally released the breath you’d been holding as a light shone from the end of the hallway. Your steps were quiet as you approached the office that you had only been into a handful of times, but you assumed that your father was probably waiting in there, considering there were no other signs of life around.

“Dad-... Sheriff?” you were startled to find the Sheriff sitting at his desk, hunched over, leaning closely to the piece of paper he was writing on like he was struggling to see what was there but refusing to wear any glasses. In his other hand was a sweet of some sort, half lifted to his mouth but momentarily paused on route as he heard your innocent call out.

Sheriff Lee Bodecker had always been in your life; he’d started as your father’s best friend, and then, as they moved up the ranks in the police, Lee became the sheriff, and your father was the deputy. It wasn’t a rare occasion to find the two men sitting on the couch, drinking beers and watching the football when you’d arrive home for school.

Lee always felt like a protector for you, especially as he always seemed to look out for you more than your siblings, which only helped to develop your crush on him. It was thoroughly inappropriate and something you’d tried to pray for forgiveness during the Sunday services at church. It soon became something that consumed your very being. He was all you could think about during every waking hour, and you soon found any excuse to see him or spend time with the older man, which was only made worse when the Sheriff’s wife would turn up and reality dawned on you.

This was one of the main motivations to attend College in the next town over from Knockemstiff. It had been hard to adjust but with each day, you thought of the Sheriff less and less but then it would all come cascading back when you saw him in your home on your first day back for the holidays.

“Sugar? What are you doing here? It’s too late for you to wander around all by your lonesome.” Lee’s concerned, husky voice disrupted your thoughts as you awkwardly shifted your weight from one foot to the other in the doorway.

“I thought my Dad would be here. He said he’d drive me home at this time, but I can’t find him.” As you explained your predicament, you crossed your arms, shielding your body before biting your lower lip.

The Sheriff’s eyes seemed to linger on the spot for a second before he placed his pen onto the desk and sat back in his leather chair with a creak. “Ah well, I think that might be my doing. I insisted that everyone leave so they could go and watch football. He must have forgotten that he was taking you home”.

Your shoulders visibly drop at hearing the news, dread sitting heavy in your stomach at the thought of the long walk home that you were able to do. Looking at the ground as you spoke, your feet began to turn your body in the opposite direction, “Thank you for letting me know, Sheriff. I’m sorry for taking up your time. Have a good night”.

“Now, wait just a minute, will you? Where are you going? You can’t surely think of walking home on your lonesome now. Not at this time of night; you don’t know who’ll be watching and waiting in the darkness”. The Sheriff was now standing as you turned back to face him, the fearful feeling now changing to a nervous fluttering at the prospect of being alone with the man you adored most in the world and had been trying to get over.

Your tongue seemed heavy as it rested in your mouth as you could not think of a verbal response, so you simply nodded to his suggestion, stepping back into his dimly lit office. Lee stepped closer, holding his arm towards the smaller leather chair facing his desk. “Come now, Sweet thing, take a seat. I’ll just finish my paperwork and then drive you home”.

Following his instructions, you sat in the chair, your heart seemingly missing a beat as he tucked it in chivalrously. You played nervously with the edge of your sky-blue dress, which you now realised matched the colour of his eyes that hadn’t seemed to leave you since you’d arrived.

You avoided his piercing eyes altogether, deciding instead to look around the familiar room for any changes since you’d last peaked in. This was a wrong decision, though, as your eyes glanced upon a new photo nailed to the wall of him and his wife. You wished the ground would open up so you could fall into a hole, especially as your body warmed in arousal at seeing him and then chilled in shame as his wife. He was very, very married for many years with his high school sweetheart. This is the main reason you would go to confessionals and pray for your sins; they were horrible, nasty thoughts that a good religious girl shouldn’t ever contemplate.

Straightening your posture, your knees pressed together like you were trying to hide your arousal. Even though that wasn’t the sign that Lee would notice, he was more focused on your lower lip, tucked in between your teeth. It was a nervous habit but one that also followed whenever he would casually touch your arm innocently or say a particular pet name that had your eyes averting in an obvious sign of endearment.

“How’s college? I hope you’ve not been missing me too much?” his mouth twitched into a smirk as your eyes flicked to the floor to try and hide your reaction just as he had anticipated.

Swallowing to try and moisten your parched mouth, you sheepishly smiled at his obvious joke, looking up through your lashes in his direction as you tucked your chin into your chest.

“It’s um, it’s going great. I’m really enjoying it. I’m glad it’s not too far away.” Your voice was light and timid as you spoke, now feeling confident enough to watch his reactions. Lee nodded slowly, his expressions neutral but also interested in what you had to say as he locked his fingers together and rested them on his soft stomach.

“You didn’t answer my other question”, he noted, his tone lowering as his head tilted to the side.

Your heart seemed to skip a beat in your chest as you had to look away from his gaze, losing any confidence you had developed. Rubbing your nimble fingers along the hem of your dress by your knees, you casually mumbled, “Yes, I’ve missed you”.

If you’d looked up, you would have seen the shit-eating, knowing grin that now decorated the Sherffi’s face. He loved nothing more than seeing you squirm.

Sitting forward until he was resting his elbows on his desk, he continued to see how far this could go, mainly because Lee missed you, and he needed to be close to his sweet girl. “That’s what I like to hear”, he continued, “Now I’ve heard a lot of rumours of what kids these days get up to whilst at College; you haven’t been getting into any trouble over there, have you?”

Your breath hitched, eyes unblinking with fear. “No”, your lower lip trembled slightly, “I’ve been good”. This was the truth; you hadn’t been in any trouble for the most part, but your most significant failure was that you were easily coerced into things because of your fear of being left out.

Lee’s eyes squinted to show his disbelief, noticing how your body stiffened. “Are you sure about that? So you’ve not been to any party’s?”

Staring a hole into the carpet, you tried to think of a lie or simply say no and have him believe you, but it wasn’t in your personality to lie. “I’ve only been to one, but nothing bad happened”, your voice was hardly audible to the Sherrif as you explained.

“So, you’re telling me nothing bad happened at a college party?” he leaned back in his seat, “You must think I’m stupid or something, Sweetheart”.

Your eyes widened as your head snapped up to him, fingers clenching the dress painfully, “No! I don’t think you’re stupid at all, Sherrif! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that”.

Lee looked away disappointed, and you panicked further, worried that he would tell your father, whom you’d promised to stay out of trouble and not go to parties or hangouts. Waiting with bated breath for him to respond, you watched as he began to think of question after question to find out more, and you had to answer, even if you didn’t want to.

“Who do you go with to these illegal parties?” Lee asked with a raised eyebrow, his hands forming into fists on the desk.

Hating the way he added more manipulation and gaslighting by describing these parties as illegal, you answered, “Friends”.

“Friends, huh? Girlfriends or boyfriends?”

The apples of your cheeks warmed as you looked away once more, “Just friends”.

“So boyfriends”, he deducted from your reaction. “Should I be worried about these boys?”

This question confused you, trying to understand why he should be worried about your male friends.

“Um, only one friend of mine is a boy. He’s called Callum; he’s nice, but then there’s Amy and Chantelle-”

“Callum? Bet he’s only been treating you nicely because he wants one thing: you know all boys that age think the same way, " Lee interrupted your list of friends.

“No, not Callum, he’s only ever been a gentleman to me”.

“Has he kissed you?”

Lee’s question caught you off guard, and once more, you were looking away, body warming but through embarrassment this time as you tried to hide your obvious answer that yes, you and Callum had kissed. The Sherrif tutted at your reaction and slowly stood up from his chair, walking around his desk until he was in front of you, his thick fingers pushing against your chin, forcing your face to look back up at him.

“You know, kissing leads to sinful things; it's not proper to do it with some random nobodies”.

“He’s not a nobody, and it was only once. We haven’t done anything else, I promise, Sherrif.” Your body was beginning to tremble with fear.

“Ah, but even once is not right, especially with those lot in College. I’d hate to think of his dirty hands all over my Sweet Angel. You aren’t meant to be touched by anyone else”, he murmured the last part more to himself as the pad of his thumb grazed over the tip of your chin.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his piercing gaze, the blues of his iris’ looking so deep they almost appeared black. “I’m so sorry, Sherrif, please don’t tell anyone, especially my Daddy, I’m a good girl, I promise”.

As Lee’s thumb brushed your bottom lip, he said, “MY good girl”.

Everything seemed to freeze: your heart, your breaths, the world outside the police station as you wondered, “What?”

Lee lowered his top half, bending over until you could smell the cheap aftershave that he wore and the hint of leather from his jacket that hung on the back of his office chair. “I said, you’re MY good girl, aren’t you?”

Before you could answer, his lips pressed against yours for a couple of seconds before he stood back up, his fingers still holding your chin in place. Your heart resumed beating, but only because it now pounded so loudly in your ears that you were sure he could hear.

“I… I thought you said kissing was sinful” was your only response to his touch. Fixing on that one fact rather than the wrong things like the fact that he was married, the sheriff, your 'father's boss, your father'ss friend and significantly older than you. No, none of those concerns alarmed your conscience because that selfish part of you was reeling with the fact that you were actually living something you’d daydreamed for so long, even though it was thoroughly wrong.

“I’m the Sheriff; nothing I do is sinful, Sweetheart. I’ve paid for my sins, and don’t you remember? You’re my Sweet Pea, aren’t you? You always have been, and always will be”.

For some reason, the possessiveness seemed to remind you of who you were talking to as you stood, moving out of his touch and stepping away, putting some space between the two of you.

“You’re married”, you stated, trying to sound confident to remind him of his promise to his wife, but your voice wobbled.

Lee’s shoulders rolled back as he stepped closer. Instinctively, you stepped back until you were flush against the wall, his arm resting next to your head. “Yeah, I’m married, but my wife does worse. I’ve done enough good deeds for ten lifetimes. I deserve to enjoy something once in a whilst, and there’s nothing I want to do more than enjoy you”.

“I’ll tell my Daddy” you try and threaten him even though you’d been desperate not to have your father be involved in any sort of way, but once more, you were just trying to hold onto that last little string of hope before you sinned.

“What’s this?” Lee asked as he pointed to the star on his shirt.

“Your sheriff badge”.

“Exactly. Sheriffs have more authority than the deputies, isn’t that right, Sugar? In fact, I could arrest your Daddy for whatever I liked, and no one could stop me”.

His dominance and threats were only doing the opposite as his words sparked out the little angel on your shoulder telling you to do the right thing and walk away because, in reality, you wanted to stay. Your silence is answer enough for him as he continues to lean over you.

“Do I make myself clear?” You nod, pressing your lips together as he leans closer, eyes travelling over your body before he decides he wasn't waiting anymore and kisses you again. This was more to show his clear sign of dominance as it was hard, almost hurting with the force as his body pushed yours into the wall.

“Tell me to stop, go one, say the wards, and I’ll drop you home”, he mumbled against your lips, trying to hold back some kind of restraint, but the two of you both knew it was too late as you didn’t tell him to stop.

“Did that boy ever touch you?” he asked, pulling back so that he could see the shake of your head; no, you were still a virgin. Lee looked relieved, “Good, now get on my desk”.

You moved numbly across the room, half in shock and excitement as he moved a few items to give you space to sit on the edge. Lee moved your knees further apart so he could fit his body between yours. Everything was happening so quickly. Your surroundings felt fuzzy and disorientating, hardly being able to get your bearings before the sheriff was on his knees, pushing your skirt up until he's staring at your plain white panties.

Realisation dawned on you then as to what exactly was happening. It wasn’t just a kiss, and he was expecting things that weren’t supposed to be done by unmarried people. You knew what sex was from people talking in College, but you were still a virgin and highly uneducated on the matter, having not even touched yourself yet.

Again, you were internally battling with yourself to push him away, these touches were supposed to be done by your husband, but there was also no one else you trusted more than the Sheriff, even if he was manipulative.

You didn’t stop him as he pulled the edge of your panty aside to stare at your pussy, something that was utterly vulnerable and erotic at the same time. Especially as he released a deep moan that caused his warm breath to wisp across your delicate labia, cooling the moisture that had formed there from just being in the same room as him.

Lee’s tongue pressed against this area, applying enough pressure that he slipped beneath and found the source of the juices. You cringed at the new feeling, not sure how to react, but he held you to the desk by wrapping his big hands around your thighs and hips.

He circled your cunt with the tip of his tongue, teasing the skin and feeling you clench around him, reacting to the touches and then deciding he was done playing. He didn’t penetrate, instead, he was pushing towards your clit, sucking on it harshly and savouring the screaming moan that you couldn’t hold back, your hips jerking wildly to escape the overwhelming feeling, but he held you firmly.

As if on instinct, your hands tried to grip his hair for support, but it was short enough that your fingers just slipped through, so instead, you held onto the edge of the desk until your fingers ached.

Lee’s grip on your hips was sure to leave bruises as he continued to stimulate your bundle of nerves, sucking on it in bursts, sending firey tingles through your abdomen and tips of your thighs. It was hard to explain the feeling of being pleasured and touched in this way, especially by someone who definitely should not have their face pressed between your thighs, but the more he did it, the more you could feel yourself relaxing and allowing him to continue.

The Sheriff ate like a starved man, immediately addicted to your sweet taste, even moving away for a second to compliment, “You taste so much better than her”, he grunted, referring to his wife.

This caused a pathetic whine to come from you as he began to lick repeatedly against your clit, which was when something began to change. It was like your body was tightening, as if something was wrong.

“Wait, Sheriff stop, something is wrong, I.. I can feel something happening to me” he smirked against your pussy, knowing precisely what was happening, but to please you, he pulled away and thrilled at the sound of your whimpers as the feeling faded and realised you shouldn’t have asked him to stop.

However, this was Lee’s plan, to have you right on the edge before moving further. Looking up at you whilst still on his knees, he raised one of his hands to your mouth and offered you his middle finger, ordering you to “Suck”.

You did, finding the motion embarrassing and degrading but making sure to thoroughly suck and wet the digit before he pulled it out.

“This might feel uncomfortable, but I promise, I’ll make you feel good”, Lee explained to your confusion. However, you didn’t care as his face returned to mush into your sensitive area, gently lapping against your clit, circling it until it was throbbing and aching once more. Then you were greeted with intense pressure from your hole as he began to push his middle finger in.

You’d never been touched there, even by yourself,, so even his one finger was a stretch, but then your whole body was tensing as he seemed to reach a barricade just as he reached his first knuckle.

Lee didn’t stop and pushed through your formed hymen, snapping the thin piece of skin, which caused a sharp stabbing pain to spike through your cunt soon eased to an ache either way, it caused you to scream out and try and pull away. He continued to pleasure your clit, which helped with the pain to ease, and thankfully, he didn’t move his thick finger, just simply kept it inside of you, getting used to its size, but that was enough stimulation to have that tightening feeling to return to your body.

With his one hand, he held you down firmly, listening and watching your reactions as he began to pulse his sucks against your clit until he knew you were on the edge.

For a moment, you contemplated just what was going on; here you were, in the Sheriff’s office, sitting on his desk, looking at a picture of his wife on the wall, ignoring your father’s office just outside of his door as his best friend made you orgasm for the very first time. It was intense and caused your body to flush with heat and tremble as your pussy walls contracted around his finger, the area already sensitive from the recent hymen break, but he didn’t stop until your cries of pleasure turned to exhausted gasps of air.

Your eyes were half-lidded as you continued to shake, sure that your legs were weak and could not support your weight right now. Instead, you watched the Sheriff stand, wiping his middle finger which had streaks of fresh red blood on, onto his black work trousers, but you were too much in a blissful state to truly understand what had happened.

Lee’s chin gleamed from your juices as he licked his lips, standing over you again and asking, “Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you”, you said without a moment's hesitation.

He gave a satisfying nod, “That’s right, and this isn’t going to be the last time we’re alone, do you understand? Now I’ve had a taste of you, I don’t want to stop”.

Shivering at his declaration, your panties were repositioned back to normal, be it a bit more uncomfortable now due to the concoction of fluids that now seeped onto them. Lee held his hand out for you to take, helping to stand on unstable legs as he then gathered his coat from the back of his chair, planning to take you home. There was a small part of you that was sad that he hadn’t decided to take your virginity completely but as you stared at the picture of his wife on the wall, anxiety began to creep into you soul at the mess you’d just managed to get yourself into.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker one shot #sheriff lee bodecker #the devil all the time #tdalt smut #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2023

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vashtijoy · 1 year ago

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why everybody is wrong about the unlock date for akechi's rank 6 (and why it matters)

So It Is Known that Akechi's rank 6 unlocks on 9/3, right? That's the first day he'll show up in Leblanc to go to the bathhouse and tell you about his sad backstory (again). That is his unlock date. R...ight?

Game says no.

This is the function that (usually) tests Akechi's rank 6 time lock, SUB_COOP_TIME_[L]OCK6(). What does it do? It sets a bit, 0x1 831, if we fail the check. Which we will unfailingly do on every single day within a specified date range. And what is that range?

That range is between 4/1 and 8/28.

Read that again. Not 9/2, the day before 9/3. 8/28.

The same 8/28 we all know and love for, uh, some reasons:

That's right. The reason Akechi's confidant is locked until 9/3, the reason he has not one but two "let me tell you about my backstory" events inside of a week, is that one triggers the other.

Akechi shows up at Leblanc on 8/28. He finds a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on—because, remember, we're smack in the middle of Akechi Hate Month:

This kid, who is so desperate for attention and approval that he's become a mass-murderer over it, is now in the middle of a public hate storm. And on 8/28, you listen to him. You make him welcome. You accept him for who he is—at least, for a little part of who he is.

And so he comes back less than a week later. On 9/3.

if he unlocks on 8/29, why 9/3?

Akechi's availability is often quite limited. Between 8/28 and 9/3, he's only available on one day, 8/30—though if you're already at rank 5, you can't do anything with him then.

Why doesn't he come to Leblanc on 8/30?

The Leblanc field (areas in P5 are technically known as fields) calls a very long, very unedifying function called NPC_FLAG_SELECTOR(), to see which NPCs it should load when. In short? It does this by testing the day of the week.

GET_DAYOFWEEK() returns a number between 0 (Sunday) and 6 (Saturday). So, because Akechi will only come to Leblanc if GET_DAYOFWEEK() returns 6, Akechi will only ever come to Leblanc on Saturdays.

And the first Saturday after 8/29? It is, of course, 9/3.

why does this matter?

Does this change anything? In practical terms, no. Akechi is still always going to be inaccessible for rank 6 until 9/3. But does it confirm anything about him? Well, yeah.

Akechi's rank 7 unlock really is on 11/2, the morning he tells you "I was working last night, so I'm tired today"—that time lock terminates on 11/1. His skill checks (Knowledge and Charm) are all exactly what you think. He even has a hidden lock for rank 8 (still called a time lock by the code) which verifies that he's currently a team member and won't let you proceed otherwise; that, too, acts exactly as you'd expect.

It's rank 6 which turns out to have this secret, to truly be as closely connected to 8/28 as it always appeared. Akechi comes to Leblanc in his hour of need, and he finds something—and then, the next day, he wants more.

And so he comes back—the very next evening he can get away to spend time in Yongen-jaya.

(Incidentally, I'm pretty sure Akechi lives in Kichijoji, and this kind of backs that up. It's the sort of super-trendy place he'd make a show of liking, and in fairness, he clearly does like it. He can only come to Yongen on Saturday nights because it's a lot of travel, close to an hour each way in the early evenings. But Kichijoji? He can hang out there far more often—because it's right on his doorstep.)

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2023/12/26)—first posted.

#persona 5 #p5 meta #p5 tech #8/28 #goro akechi

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littlesmartart · 4 months ago

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DRAWTOBER #4 - The Road Less Travelled by copernicusjones

Thanks to Fool Bright's (completely unsolicited) request, Simon is granted permission to attend the funeral of his stepmother—a funeral that happens to be held a twelve hour journey's east of Los Angeles, with none other than Fool Bright as his transporter. Conversation, sleep and an abundance of licorice help to pass the majority of the trip. But when a flash thunderstorm halts Simon and Fulbright short of their destination, the two find themselves spending the night at a roadside motel and caught in the middle of an ordeal every bit as dark and stormy as the weather that brought them there.

so we finished playing dual destinies a few months ago, and as soon as we were done I immediately went and read everything on ao3 I could get my hands on featuring any kind of dynamic between these two. they were just so much fun! I - much like everyone else in the fandom it seems - absolutely fell in love with this author's series. just as much as they don't dumb down Fulbright and actually flesh him out, making him a deeply compelling character, they also don't sugarcoat Blackquill's shit, unafraid to delve into the messy complexity of his trauma without worrying about the need to keep him "likeable" the way it seems a lot of authors do. this particular installment in the main series is a really compelling, complex, well written case fic with a lot of great character moments. I particularly enjoyed the moment towards the climax of the fic, where Fulbright had to remind Blackquill that as intimidating as he is, he is still just a lawyer, and the person with combat training would be the one going in after the armed perp, actually.

#blackbright #simon blackquill #bobby fulbright #ace attorney #drawtober #drawtober 2024

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persevereforahappyending · 1 year ago

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This isn't Your Fault (Anika POV)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Anika’s hands shook, she almost dropped the phone at hearing Tara beg for your life.

Warning: Implied Violence

Word Count: 6.2k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Anika sighed as she locked her phone. She had asked you about the Halloween party in class and you had turned her down. She had been texting you ever since just to double check. Your latest excuse for not going was that your parents were out of town, and you were using the house to yourself to stay up late and play video games. Anika pointed out that was literally no different than any other day and you had left her on read after that.

Anika knew you hated parties, but you only ever saw Mindy when she came to pick Anika up from one of your study sessions or when working on a project, or in your shared class with her. Anika wanted you to spend time with her and Mindy in a normal social setting. You were one of Anika’s best friends and she just wanted you to get to know her girlfriend and other friends properly. She knew Mindy could be suspicious and intense with new people, but she had really worked hard to get her girlfriend to not glare at you and outright accuse you of potential nefarious purposes.

Anika knew when to give up though, she knew you’d never come to the party. So, she decided to just enjoy the night with her girlfriend and then tell you all about it tomorrow. She knew you wouldn’t care but Anika liked to pretend you might regret not coming.

The party had been going great. Anika had a drink in one hand and was sitting in Mindy’s lap. Everything was great until she noticed Frankie trying to pull Tara upstairs. Anika quickly pulled herself away from Mindy before grabbing Chad and point to where Tara was. Anika stood to the side as Chad confronted Frankie, getting in a slight scuffle with him until Sam showed up and tased Frankie. Anika couldn’t even feel bad for Frankie, based on the few stories she heard about the guy, she could confidently say he deserved it.

Anika stayed to the back of the group as Sam and Tara argued. Anika was used to it by this point and knew not to get in the middle of their fighting. She pulled out her phone, shooting you a text to say she had left the party early and she couldn’t wait to tell you about the eventful night. You didn’t respond, so Anika figured you were engulfed by your game, as usual.

Anika was caught off guard when a group of girls called Sam a murderer and one of them threw their drink on Sam. Anika moved quickly along with Mindy and Chad to hold Tara back. Tara might have been angry with her sister but that didn’t matter because the second anyone else so much as looked at Sam wrong, Tara was ready to lunge and beat the person. Mindy might have been the paranoid one, ready to accuse everyone, and Sam might have been the strong intimidating one, but Anika had to admit she was most scared of Tara. The girl could be happy and laughing one moment then in the blink of an eye she could be giving someone a murderous look and ready to beat them with her bare hands if she had to.

Anika followed everyone back to Sam and Tara’s apartment. While Tara stormed off to her room, Mindy dragged Anika over to the couch, bringing her down with her. Anika happily flung her legs over Mindy’s lap, practically sitting on top of her again. The night hadn’t turned out like she wanted to, but it didn’t seem like a totally crappy ending to the night.

Anika looked at her phone again, frowning when she saw you still hadn’t even opened her message. She knew you really got into your gaming and would spend hours upon hours playing, but you usually looked at your phone during a cut scene or a calm part of the game as you liked to say. Anika glanced up occasionally to see if Chad had decided on a channel to watch but she was more focused on texting you again. She didn’t want to seem paranoid, but she just needed you to give her a simple ‘I’m alive’ text and she would be fine for the rest of the night.

“You good T?” Mindy asked, bringing Anika’s attention away from her phone. She looked up to see Tara having entered the room, tear filled eyes and a phone to her ear. Anika quickly swung her legs off Mindy and leaned forward.

“Tara?” Sam asked slowly, as she stood up from her seat. “Who’s on the phone?” Anika had never experienced anything related to Ghostface, but she could hear the worry and concern in Sam’s voice. She could see the underlying fear in Mindy and Chad’s eyes.

Tara’s eyes wandered the room before landing on Sam. Anika could see the tears slowly start to fall from Tara’s eyes when she looked at her sister. Anika had seen Tara mad and annoyed before, usually at Sam. She had also seen her happy when they were all hanging out or when talking about movies with Mindy. Anika had never seen her scared though and it was clear whatever Tara was hearing on the other end of the line had her terrified.

“Y/N?” Tara asked. Anika shot to her feet at hearing your name. “Y/N?” Anika scrunched her brow, she was worried, but she was also curious, she didn’t realize you and Tara knew each other. She saw Chad turn off the TV and she felt Mindy’s presence standing behind her.

Anika was aware you shared a class with Tara, but she figured you’d never talked to her just like how you were with Mindy in the class you shared with her. Anika didn’t think you had ever even spoken to Tara, she thought you only knew of her based on how Anika talked about hanging out with the group. Whenever she came over to your place, she would give you a rundown of what happened between now and the last time she saw you and it usually involved talking about the gang.

“Baby, are you there?” Tara asked again, the concern pouring out of her voice.

Anika’s eyes went wide, apparently you did know Tara, you knew Tara very well. Based on the shock of the others in the room it was clear no one knew about you and Tara’s secret relationship. Anika was going to have to interrogate you about that after whatever was going on was resolved. She knew whatever was going on wasn’t good. She knew your parents were out of town and you were home alone, you also hadn’t answered any of her texts sense she got to the party. Anika wanted to hope so bad that you hadn’t responded to her because you were too busy being on the phone with Tara, but she knew that wasn’t likely.

Anika watched as Tara jumped multiple times from whatever she was hearing on the other end of the phone. Tara even began hyperventilating. As Sam tried to get Tara to calm down and get control of her breathing Anika’s eyes slowly started to fill with tears.

“Don’t hurt them, please,” Tara begged, her voice cracking. This made Anika bring a hand to her mouth, trying to contain a sob, but she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Even though Anika had never experienced a Ghostface attack, she like all the others knew exactly what was going on now.

When Sam turned and looked at them Anika knew Mindy and Chad were ready for whatever she was about to say. She didn’t need to see either of their faces to know. She was sure that despite the fear they were surely feeling they would do anything Sam asked. Anika tried to put on a brave face as well, wiping away a few of the stray tears that still fell.

“We need to move,” Sam said. Everyone started moving. Anika wasn’t sure where they were all trying to go, she just knew they were suddenly bumping into each other and tripping over everything. “Call 911,” she ordered, ignoring all the tripping they were doing.

Chad fumbled with his phone, quickly pulling it out of his pocket. “An address would be helpful,” Chad said as he was dialing 911.

“On it,” Anika said, her voice shaky. She wiped away a few more tears as she pulled out her phone, getting your address.

“Please! She has nothing to do with this!” Tara sobbed. Anika’s hands shook, she almost dropped the phone at hearing Tara beg for your life. She quickly found your address and showed Chad, who quickly read it off to the 911 operator.

“Please,” Tara begged again. She was sobbing and her breathing was becoming more and more erratic. Anika couldn’t even begin to imagine what horrible thing you might be going through that was causing Tara so much stress. Anika saw Sam take off towards Tara’s room, but she was to rattled to notice anything else.

“No!” Tara screamed, shaking Anika out of her own head. Anika wanted to help, she wanted to know what was going on, she needed you to be okay. Sam came running back into the room, straight over to Tara and handing her her inhaler.

Anika watched as Sam tried to take the phone away from Tara and Tara slapped her hand away, keeping it just out of reach. When Sam gripped Tara by the shoulders to force her to look at her Anika saw Tara’s hand form into a fist. Anika thought for a split second that she’d witness Tara deck Sam. Anika knew Tara had one hell of a punch; she also knew Tara tended to start swinging before registering who she was swinging at. Luckily Tara saw it was Sam grabbing her and unclenched her fist.

“We have to go,” Sam told Tara.

“I can’t,” Tara sobbed. “I-I-I-can’t. I-” Tara started stuttering, her breathing becoming worse. Even when Tara would get upset and angry with Sam or with some random stranger saying something negative about her or Sam Anika had never seen Tara so worked up. Anika wasn’t just worried about you; she was worried about Tara. Sam remained calm though, handing Tara her inhaler and helping lift it to her mouth.

“Let’s go,” Sam said again, somehow being the calmest person in the room. “We can’t help here,” she continued, trying to convince Tara to leave with her. “Let’s go.” Tara finally nodded and got to following Sam. Anika pulled out her phone, texting Sam your address. “Chad!” she yelled.

“Already calling 911,” he answered instantly, he had the phone to his ear as he continued talking to the 911 operator.

“Anika-”

“Already texted you her address,” Anika said softly. She was trying to remain calm and not lose her mind until after she knew exactly what was happening to you.

Then next thing Anika knew Sam and Tara were disappearing through the front door, rushing down the steps, headed hopefully to your rescue. Anika gripped her phone tightly as she started sobbing, struggling to catch her breath much like Tara had been.

“Babe,” Mindy said worriedly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she gripped Anika gently by the arm, standing in front of her. “It’s going to be okay. She is going to be okay.” Anika met Mindy’s eyes and didn’t see the confidence she was trying to project.

“You don’t know that,” Anika said, shaking her head. “We have no idea what he’s doing to her,” she sobbed. Mindy instantly pulled her into a hug as she began sobbing into her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“I think the only one that needs to worry is Ghostface,” Chad said. “I mean when Tara gets her hands on him,” he did a couple air punches. “Oof, I wouldn’t want to be him.”

Anika pulled away from Mindy, wiping at her tears as she chuckled at Chad. Despite the circumstances and the unknown Chad had somehow managed to break the tension.

“Who is Y/N, by the way?” Chad asked, smiling awkwardly as he clearly tried to keep the mood light.

Anika started to tear up again. “Hey,” Chad said softly, tapping Anika’s shoulder lightly to get her to look at him. “Tell me about her.” Anika wiped the tears from her eyes again but was reluctant. “Please?” Chad looked at her with the same puppy dog eyes Mindy always used on her. “We won’t know anything until Sam calls. Until then, tell me about her.”

Anika nodded. Mindy wrapped an arm around her waist and led her back over to the couch. Chad took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as he sat on the other side of Anika.

“We met in class,” Anika said, smiling as she thought back to her first time meeting you. “Audio.”

“I thought you hated audio?” Chad questioned.

“Oh, I do,” Anika laughed at the memory. “But it’s required. Even if I don’t need to know editing and mixing audio, it’s beneficial to know how to run audio and the different types of microphones used and everything. I want to work in theater and there’s no do overs and reshoots when there’s a live performance.”

“And that’s another reason film is better,” Mindy commented.

Anika rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing like live theater.” Anika playfully slapped Mindy’s arm. “Maybe you’d understand that if you took me to the theater,” she mumbled the last part.

“You guys can fight about this later, tell me more about Y/N,” Chad said, waving his hands at the beginnings of the potential argument about film vs theater.

“Anyway,” Anika said, turning back to face Chad. “Y/N is an audio major, which is good because she totally carried me through that class.” Anika started to talk more about how she met you and everything, remembering how different the two of you were but how easily you clicked.

Anika had walked into class, dreading having to learn audio. She was beating herself up for not just choosing a major that only involved theater. Anika didn’t want to act and be on stage, she wanted to run the lighting, set the scene. The best major to learn all that though involved having to know about everything. Anika had to admit lighting and sound went together a lot and she did want to learn how to run the sound along with the lights, she wanted to be involved in everything that helped enhance a live performance, and the things that really made it come alive.

Anika had ended up taking a seat next to you. You had large headphones on as you scribbled in a notebook. Anika wasn’t sure whether you were writing or doodling. The only thing Anika could see was your laptop propped open with some sort of audio editing software pulled up. She knew it was audio related because she was confused as she looked at the various different colored bars and wavy lines. She quietly groaned because she had sat next to someone who clearly knew what they were doing.

As soon as the professor came in you closed all the tabs, quickly shutting your laptop before slipping the headphones off your head, letting them rest around your neck. As the professor started talking and writing things on the board Anika pulled out her own notebook. She was aware of you flipping your notebook to a clean page, but she was too busy squinting at the professor as he quickly talked about microphones. Anika blinked a few times, looking down at her paper, she had the words dynamic, condenser, and ribbon as the three main types of microphones but had nothing else written.

Anika spared a glance to her left and saw you quickly writing in your notebook, your page more than half full. Anika’s eyes widened; she hadn’t seen you look up once, but it seemed like you were getting everything down as the professor said it. Anika looked back up at her professor to see him pulling out a box, pulling out each different type of microphone so everyone could see the differences with their own eyes.

Anika sighed, slumping back into her seat. She tossed her pen down and didn’t even bother trying to catch up on her notes. There was no way she was ever going to pass the class. It was day one and not even a half an hour into her first class and she’d already accepted her failure. The next thing she knew her professor was dismissing class. She shook her head, getting out of her daydream, she looked down to see she still only had three words written down. She glanced your way again, seeing you had moved onto a second page and that was already half full.

You started packing up when you seemed to notice Anika staring at you. When Anika realized you were looking at her, she mumbled, “Sorry.” She let out a defeated sigh before she closed her notebook.

“Would you like to borrow my notes?” You asked.

“Thanks,” Anika said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m not sure it would do much good. I kind of don’t understand a single thing about all of this,” she gestured around the classroom.

You chuckled lightly. “Yeah, if it ain’t your thing, it kind of doesn’t make any sense.” Anika chuckled along with you. “I could help you out, if you want.” You scratched at the back of your head, then began fidgeting with your headphones, you clearly weren’t used to this type of interaction.

“I would love that!” Anika said a little too quickly, making you jump back a little. “Sorry,” she said more quietly. “I would really like that, if you don’t mind of course.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’m just warning you; this is your last chance to backout, it will take many study sessions and many hours to make me even begin to grasp this stuff.”

You chuckled again. “I’ll take my chances. Who knows, when I’m done with you, you’ll be able to pass this class with a C,” you joked.

Anika’s mouth fell open in offense. “Really? We don’t even know each other and you’re already being mean to me?”

You just shrugged. “I mean if you want to take your chances without my help and your notetaking, go for it,” you gestured to her notebook.

“You’re a mean new friend,” Anika grumbled.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m terribly mean. I mean what kind of person would offer to lend their notes and then offer to help out the stranger next to them in class when they don’t even know their name?”

“I truly terrible person,” Anika said seriously but then broke out into a fit of laughter, with you quickly joining in. “I’m Anika,” she held out her hand to you.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, taking her hand. “Do you have another class, or would you like to go over the notes now?”

“Now works, I saw a coffee shop not too far from here.”

The two of you left the classroom, making your way to the coffee shop. You both ordered drinks before picking out a table large enough to open your notebooks. The two of you spent a couple hours there, going over the notes you had taken in class with Anika asking a billion questions. She felt stupid for making you re-explain like the entire class you had both just been in, but you never made her feel stupid for it and happily explained everything to her. You had actually spent so much time talking that you ended up having to rush off to your next class before you were late, but you and Anika promised to meet up after your audio class every week to go over whatever she needed help with.

And that’s how the rest of the semester went. Anika would go to audio and be confused then she would meet you at the coffee shop or in the library and you’d go over things with her again. Anika wasn’t sure what it was about you but the way you explained things to her made her retain them better. When the mid-term and final exam came around you spent every night for weeks over at her dorm helping her study. She wondered when you had time to study for yourself since you seemed so busy tutoring her, but audio seemed to come naturally to you. Every quiz or test you’d taken so far you aced while Anika passed.

Whenever there was a project or paper you had to write for class, you always worked with Anika. The teacher let them choose partners and you still chose Anika. She never knew why because there were other students who clearly had a passion for audio like you and who actually knew their stuff. Whenever you guys worked on something together it felt more like you doing the project, explaining it to Anika, and her just sitting there, getting credit for it. You assured her multiple times you didn’t see it that way.

As you two went through the semester together, you started hanging out more as friends and not just to help Anika pass the class. No matter what the two of you did though, you somehow managed to bring audio into it. You were such a nerd when it came to music and sound design, Anika couldn’t watch a movie without you commenting on the score. She learned that what you really wanted to do was the sound design for videogames, she also learned you didn’t shut up when the topic of your favorite videogame got brought up. She made the mistake of asking you what your favorite game was and ended up listening to you ramble about the music of The Last of Us for over an hour and then you made her listen to the entire soundtrack, then you made her listen to it again, but this time paused it to add your commentary.

Luckily, she was allowed to do the same though. Anika listened to you geek out about soundtracks and videogames while you listened to her about theater, the different plays, the different types of musicals. Whenever there was a new play in town that Anika wanted to see she would take you, since Mindy refused to go with her. Anika was always immersed during the play but after she spent the rest of the night talking about the lighting and how each scene was lit and the emotion that it invoked, if it was a musical then she would add a couple more hours, talking about how each performer sung the song and the music itself and how each song told the story.

“She seems really cool,” Chad said, bringing Anika out of her memories of you. “And you didn’t know about her and Tara?”

Anika shook her head. “Nope,” she answered. “I knew she shared a class with Mindy.”

“Script writing,” Mindy added. “She might be more into audio but she’s not half bad with storytelling in general.”

“And yet you still don’t like her.”

Mindy raised her hands in defense. “Can you blame me? Besides, with how well you get along I’m surprised you two weren’t dating before we met.”

Anika rolled her eyes at that. “She’s just my best friend,” Anika said, with a teasing smile.

“Whatever,” Mindy grumbled, crossing her arms.

“I think Tara has film history with her,” Anika said, turning back to Chad. “I forget who mentioned it first, but I remember them both knowing they had the class together. I didn’t think they knew each other though. Neither ever talked about the other.”

Anika was about to talk more about you when her phone vibrated. She quickly grabbed her phone, aware of Mindy and Chad both pulling out their phones as well. Sam had sent a group text saying you were alive but had been rushed into surgery and she and Tara were in the hospital waiting room. Anika shot off a quick text saying they were on their way. She was on her feet before Mindy and Chad had time to finish reading the text.

“Let’s go!” she snapped, gesturing for them to get up. They quickly got up, rushing to follow her out the door.

When they got to the hospital they ran through the white corridors until they got to the waiting room where they saw Sam and Tara sitting in two of the chairs. Tara had her feet pulled up onto the seat, her arms wrapped around her legs. Sam was sitting next to her, her hand rubbing up and down Tara’s back.

Anika walked over, giving Tara’s hand a comforting squeeze before taking a seat across from her with Mindy right behind her. Anika wanted to say something and ask what happened, she wanted to know how you were doing but she knew it wasn’t the time. All she knew was that you were still alive and that was the most important thing at the moment.

Anika intertwined her hand with Mindy’s and leaned her head on her shoulder. She refused to let her mind go to the worst-case scenario, you were alive, and you were in surgery, you’d be fine. Anika’s mind went through every interaction she had with you again. You had helped her so much in the first audio class that for the fall semester, you guys made your schedules together and signed up for audio 2 together. Anika had only known you for six months, the beginning of summer semester, the same amount of time as she’d known Mindy, but you had become such an integral part of her life, you were her best friend. You needed to live. Even if it was only so Anika could interrogate you about your relationship with Tara, she needed you to live.

After a few hours of waiting Anika had drifted off to sleep. She didn’t wake up until she heard a nurse say your name. She was on her feet and wide awake in an instant. She stood around the nurse with the others, she gripped Mindy’s hand tightly as they waited to hear the news.

“Is she okay?” Tara asked.

“Relation?” the nurse asked, looking up at Tara from her chart.

“She’s, my girlfriend.”

“She’s out of surgery and in a room recovering, you’re welcome to go see her.”

Anika let out a relieved sigh, you really were going to be okay. She loosened her grip on Mindy’s hand, then gave it a grateful squeeze.

“How is she?” Tara whispered.

The nurse sighed, putting down her chart. “She’s alive.” At hearing those words Tara let out a relieved sob. Anika couldn’t help the happy tears that started to fill her eyes. “Her left hand was practically shattered, and she’s got seven broken or cracked ribs.” Anika brought a hand to her mouth; you had endured so much. “It’ll take some time, but she’ll be okay,” she gave a kind smile to Tara then everyone else before walking away.

You were only allowed two visitors and as much as Anika wanted to see you, she knew Tara had to see you more and she knew Tara needed her sister by her side. Anika pulled Tara into a tight hug. She hugged Tara for a second longer, making up for the fact that she couldn’t hug you yet.

When Sam and Tara went to visit you everyone else re-took their seats. Anika grabbed the sandwich that Chad had brought her and took a bite, taking a sip of her juice as well. Anika was fully prepared to sleep in the hospital waiting room, but it wasn’t much long later when Sam came back down. Sam informed them that you looked beat up but okay considering what was done to you and you were still sleeping. She said her and Tara weren’t leaving but she wanted them to go back to the apartment or one of their dorms and rest.

Anika reluctantly let Mindy drag her out of the hospital and back to the apartment. The three of them stood in the apartment for about five minutes before Chad wandered off, filling a bag with spare clothes for the sisters. Anika then dragged Mindy to follow Chad back to the hospital to drop off the clothes. She knew it didn’t take three of them to drop off clothes but with Ghostface running around there was safety in numbers, plus she just wanted to be there in case there was any new information on you, even though she knew Sam would keep them informed.

The three of them decided to stay in the apartment, none of them had a big enough dorm room to fit three people. Besides Ethan was Chad’s roommate and they wanted to keep the people who knew what was going on to a minimum. Anika wasn’t sure where Quinn was during everything, her absence was suspicious, but it wasn’t uncommon. They had all been at a party and Ethan and Quinn both stayed behind. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Quinn to go to a party and come home the next day or even a few days later if she was having a lot of fun with the guy she found.

Chad was snuggled up in the chair, a blanket draped over him while Mindy was curled up on the couch. Anika was sitting on the opposite end of the couch. She couldn’t sleep now that she knew you were alive, she was worried something else was going to happen. She watched a random movie that was playing on the TV with the sound on mute so as to not disturb the twins.

That’s how the next day went as well. Anika was exhausted from the lack of sleep and was getting by by taking quick powernaps. Mindy would flip through the channels to find mindless entertainment to fill the time and Chad would make them food. For breakfast it was simply eggs, for lunch it was chicken nuggets, and for dinner it was pizza. It was also simple food that was just frozen and tossed in the microwave, but Chad was the only one making sure everyone actually ate.

It was late at night again, the twins sleeping in the same position as they were the night before. Anika had a random movie playing on mute, but she wasn’t paying attention to it, she couldn’t even say what genre it was if someone asked. Her phone was sitting on the coffee table when it lit up. She lunged off the couch, grabbing her phone to see that it was a text from Sam, you were awake.

Anika jumped off the couch and was already putting on her shoes. “Get up!” she yelled. She grabbed Chad’s shoes, throwing them at him. He jolted awake, almost tipping the chair. “Y/N is awake, get up!” she said louder, tossing Mindy her shoes as well.

Though the twins were startled awake they both quickly got up, slipping on their shoes. Anika waited at the front door, tapping her foot as she shook her head, slowly watching them get ready. She clicked her phone to look at the time, a whole two minutes had passed since Sam sent that text. “Let’s go!” Anika’s grumpiness seeped into her voice. It got the other two moving though and next thing she knew they were walking out the front door.

They got to the hospital, meeting Sam in the waiting room. She told them once again that you were awake and talking with Tara. They all took seats in the waiting room again, Sam opting to wait with them so she could give you and Tara some privacy. Anika finally slept for the first time in two days, head on Mindy’s shoulder now that she knew you were awake.

In the morning they were all woken up by FBI agent Kirby Reed. She introduced herself to everyone but her and Sam clearly knew each other already. Kirby told them she investigated Ghostface attacks, since she was a survivor of the 2011 killings. Kirby had just got to town, and she heard about the attack, when she heard you were awake, she had come right over, wanting to talk to you. Sam took Kirby to show her to your room.

A few minutes later Sam came back down but she wasn’t alone, she was with Tara who had a determined look in her eye. Anika was actually scared by the look Tara held, it was dark, and it was what she imagined a killer to look like right before they went hunting.

“What’s going on?” Mindy asked.

“We’re going to kill this fucker,” Tara spit out.

Sam rested a gentle hand on Tara’s shoulder, trying to calm her down. “We have a plan.”

“Let’s go,” Chad said, jumping up from his seat.

“No. Just us.”

“Sam, you can’t take on Ghostface alone.”

“I can’t let any of you get hurt again, please stay here.”

While Sam argued with Chad and Mindy about whether they were coming or not Anika watched Tara. Tara didn’t look like she cared one way or another whether others joined them or not, all she wanted was to kill the bastard that hurt her girlfriend. When Tara noticed Anika watching her, her gaze softened and she stepped towards Anika, pulling her away from the others.

“Can I ask a favor?” Tara whispered, looking at Anika with wide eyes.

“Anything,” Anika said instantly.

“Can you stay with Y/N?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. Just keep her distracted and don’t let her come after me.”

Anika let out a small chuckle. “Easier said than done. When she learns you’re not here she’s going to be pissed.”

“I know,” Tara whispered.

“Whatever, you’re going to be the one to deal with her wrath when you get back.”

For the first time in two days Anika saw Tara smile, it was a small smile, but it was a smile. “Happily.”

Anika made her way up to your room, leaving the others to continue arguing. She stood outside as she watched through the window. Agent Reed stood by your bedside as she talked to you. Kirby looked up, meeting Anika’s gaze and a minute later she was walking out of the room. Anika gave her a smile before entering your hospital room.

“Hey,” Anika whispered quietly.

“Hey,” you said, smiling at her before it quickly fell. “What are you doing here? Where’s Tara?”

“Wow, I’ll try not to be offended,” Anika chuckled. She moved to the seat closest to your bed. She was really hoping for a minute before you started questioning her.

“Nika,” you said, looking at her knowingly.

Anika sighed; she wasn’t lucky enough to make it a minute before she had to tell you. “You know where,” she said softly.

Your eyes fearfully darted all around the room before you tried to sit up. Anika quickly jumped up from her seat, resting a hand on your shoulder to push you back down. You instantly groaned, wincing in pain from the moving around.

“I have to stop her,” you said through gritted teeth.

“You know there’s no doing that,” Anika said.

“She could die!” you snapped. Anika jumped at your tone, though she knew you weren’t angry with her.

“She’s done this before,” Anika said. “And she has Sam with her. She also has a pretty strong motive to survive.”

“She better survive Ghostface cause when she gets back, I’m gonna kill her,” you grumbled.

Anika smiled at your words. “Don’t worry, she’s well aware.”

The two of you sat in silence for a minute. Anika watched you but you watched the door. Your eyes hadn’t left the door since Anika told you what Tara was doing. You were waiting for her to come back, and you weren’t going to take your eyes off the door until you saw Tara walking through.

“So,” Anika said, clapping her hands together. “Want to watch The Last of Us?” that got your attention, you slowly turned to give Anika a confused look. “You can tell me all the differences between the show and the game,” Anika tried to bribe. She grabbed a laptop they had brought over with the spare clothes.

“You’re trying to distract me,” you said, glancing at the laptop as Anika went and pulled up the show.

“And it’s working,” Anika smiled as she moved the chair even closer to your bedside.

“No, it’s not,” you grumbled.

“Look, you can either annoy me about all the differences between the show and the game or we can talk about how you’ve secretly been dating Tara.” Anika crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

You grumbled something incoherent before hitting play on the first episode. Anika smiled to herself, leaning back into the chair as she got ready to listen to you ramble. “This doesn’t get you out of telling me about Tara though,” Anika added.

You rolled your eyes, flicking a glare at Anika. As the show started your eyes instantly lit up. “So, right away it’s already different because in the game in opens with…” you started rambling. Anika was silently hoping Tara would be back before you finished all nine episodes.

Taglist: @bigbadsofty07 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #anika kayoko #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #this isn't your fault

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