#reminding myself that at least I’m not in high school

[voiceshearingyouloud]

I used to think ‘I got over my grief about being disabled a long time ago, I’m past it now’ well, no I wasn’t. Turns out having to take two semesters out of uni will poke all those old ‘I’m a failure’, ‘it’s my fault’, ‘I’ll never be able to study again’ buttons 🙃

[liketolaugh-writes]

Bruce looking past the fact that (recently adopted) Danny is a powerhouse and recognizing that he has other skills also. <3

Danny is a STEM kid and just as brilliant as his sister, you cannot convince me otherwise

Danny gave Bruce the handwritten list of powers in the morning. Bruce stared at it over his cup of coffee, then gave Danny a flat, somewhat disbelieving look. Danny shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” he said, perching on one of the stools. “I can point out the ones I don’t use if you just want to work on the ones I do. At least I have an idea of what needs improving with those.” Alfred gave him a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon and French toast, and Danny smiled at him. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“We’ll have to prioritize your training,” Bruce allowed after a moment, frowning down at the paper. Dick leaned over to look and whistled. “But all of these will be addressed eventually. You should have at least a moderate grasp of every tool at your disposal.” He looked up. “You intended to work in the lab today, correct?”

Danny nodded, playing with a strip of bacon. “I’ll probably spend most of today making a big batch of phaseproof coating,” he said. “Then I can experiment with mixing it with paint and maybe coat some of your spare weapons in it? That should work for the bo staff and escrima sticks, maybe a set of brass knuckles. But I’ll need to make a different solution for the edged weapons.” His mind wandered, thinking of how he could adapt what he knew of the Bats’ gear to work against ghosts.

“Who’re the brass knuckles for?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow at Danny. Danny flushed and shrugged.

“Batman,” he said. “You don’t really use a weapon, right?” Bruce grunted. “But phaseproof cloth isn’t something my parents ever really figured out. I can work on it, maybe, but I thought brass knuckles would be an okay compromise for now.”

“Hn.”

“Good thinking,” Dick praised with a smile. “It’ll be easy to add to the utility belt too. Should we ghostproof my main set or a spare?”

“The main, I think, if you’re okay with it,” Danny said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “You probably won’t even notice. But the edged weapons should all be spares. Ecto-treated metal tends to glow.”

“Not great for stealth,” Dick nodded. “Whatever you think is best, baby spook. We have the resources.”

“You’re hyper-specialized,” Bruce noted without inflection, sipping from his coffee. Danny winced.

“Sorry,” he muttered. It was easy to forget that all this was pretty useless outside of Amity Park. Bruce shook his head.

“It’s not a problem. But we’ll need to diversify your skillset. Your talent for chemistry and engineering should expand beyond ectoscience alone.” He studied Danny contemplatively. “Higher education might be beneficial, perhaps a PhD.”

Danny’s eyes went wide. “What? I’m barely passing high school!”

“I had Casper High send over your transcripts,” Bruce said. Danny flinched. “You had a B+ average in middle school, with a particular bent for math and science. You also participated in several advanced extracurriculars, including a junior astronaut program, space camp, and competitive robotics. Further, you clearly have a comprehensive understanding of your parents’ work, which eludes both the Justice League engineers and JL Dark. You had these talents prior to acquiring your powers, and it would be a waste to discard them in favor of your raw combat ability.”

Danny stared at Bruce, open-mouthed and speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d considered even the possibility that he could have a future outside of his hero career.

“…Do you think I could do that and be a superhero?” he managed after a minute, quieter than he’d meant to.

Bruce nodded sharply. “Most Justice League heroes maintain a career outside of heroics,” he reminded Danny, without even sounding like he thought Danny was an idiot for asking. “Aside from myself, there is also a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist, a museum curator, a forensic scientist, and a fighter pilot.”

Danny had known that on some level, but it had always seemed unreal. Practically a myth. “When am I going back to school?” he asked, hardly able to believe that he was suddenly looking forward to it.

“At the beginning of next semester,” Bruce said. “Your parents’ trial should be completed by then. I assume you don’t want to be announced publicly until that happens.” Danny shook his head fervently. “You may need to complete some make-up classes online, but we can discuss that next week.”

“Thanks,” Danny said sincerely. He was talking about a lot more than his re-enrollment.

[gghostwriter]

could you do spencer x fem!reader where he proposes in the middle of chasing an unsub?

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Established relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k A/N: slowly finishing up on the remaining requests on my inbox. It’s taking me quite some time as I’m a mood writer so there’s days where I’m purely focused on my ideas then theres days where i’m motivated to finish the requests and theres days where i have no will to write a single word at all. Found myself rambling and immensly enjoying where the idea was going so hopefully this lives up to your expectation, no matter how late or unedited this is. Enjoy! Main masterlist

Curveball. // Spencer Reid

This wasn’t how Spencer planned it. Not at all.

By nature, he was a stickler to rules and organization. Having created a mind map on the trajectory of his life from the very first time he realized how different he was from the rest. Graduate early in high school, check. Get multiple BA and PhD degrees, multiple checks. Join the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico, big check. Everything was planned out. No matter how big or small.

Or at least it was, up until you strolled into the bullpen with your sensible heeled boots, crisp button downs, and tailor fitted slacks. A new recruit directly slotted by David Rossi, just like how Jason Gideon pulled rank to get him in the BAU. The stark difference was you weren’t as green as he was back then, fresh from the academy. With your credentials considered one of the best and with beaming approval from the BAU’s co-founder, David Rossi, and former member, Katie Cole of CACU, you were an immediate shoe in for the position—joining the team’s dynamic quite effortlessly and with ease.

Meeting you and falling helplessly in love with you by the end of your 6-month stay in the team was never written in Spencer’s books. He never thought once that he would find, as cliche as it sounded, a forever companion beyond the platonic relationships built within the team. He, in all of his intellect, also never thought you’d end up viewing him the same way but you did. He was so glad you did. Any disruption it caused to his mind map was a change he wholeheartedly welcomed as long as he got to come home with you wrapped in his arms.

But at the following moments, Spencer was re-considering his standpoint on the thrown curveballs that come his way all from being devotedly enamored with you.

“Spencer Reid!” you stomped your foot on the carpeted floor of the shared hotel room to gain his attention. “Did you suggest to Hotch that I be on geographical profile duty with you rather than being out with my usual partner Morgan?”

“What? No—no! Why would you think that, princess?”

With your arms crossed on your chest, hip cocked to one side, and analytical eyes cataloguing his every fidget, he knew his lie was done for.

You scoffed. “Oh I don’t know, besides from the fact you can’t look me in the eye, what else is there?” You took a minute to pause for dramatization. “Oh I know, is it because I bear a striking resemblance to all the victims? Or is it because of what happened during the last case?”

He scrunched his nose, giving himself away. “You got shot without me there, of course I got worried! What if—what if you weren’t wearing your kevlar vest or what if the unsub aimed higher, making sure to land a critical hit?” His form slumped down on the bed. “I can’t bear the thought of you in danger while I’m not around to protect you.”

“Spence, our job comes with a risk and I’m good at my job—”

“I know you are. I’ve seen you in target practice and tackle unsubs bigger than you but it also comes with the boyfriend territory that I worry whenever you’re away.”

You sighed, sitting beside him and taking his hand into yours. The difference in size was a sharp reminder on how petite and delicate you are in Spencer’s eyes. “And I get that too when we’re on duty and apart but you know what gets me by?” He shook his head, doe eyes peering into yours with such adoration. “Trust. I trust you to always come back to me, safe. In turn, I need you to trust me to do my job and take extra pre-caution with every decision I do in the field. Can you do that for me, sweet boy?”

He slowly nodded his head. “I—I can do that.”

“Next time, let’s also communicate any small or big concerns, okay Spence? I’d rather not feel lost and confused the next time a problem arises.”

“As long as you promise the same to me.”

You smiled before nodding your head in return. “Of course.”

He leaned in. Kissing those pouty lips that had been calling for him like a siren ever since the disagreement ensued.

———

“Alright,” Hotch’s no-nonsense voice called everyone’s attention. “The group of unsubs are currently holding two civilian hostages inside this very building. Morgan, Y/N, and Prentiss, you take the left entrance. Reid and Rossi, you’re with me at the right entrance.” Numerous affirmatives were echoed. “They’re armed and have proven themselves capable of killing. Vests tight and keep vigilant.”

Footsteps dispersed for preparation but before you could escape from Spencer’s line of sight, he pulled you close, adjusting your vest and making sure it was strapped tight around your chest.

“Be careful out there.”

A small smile graced your face before quickly disappearing from the thick tension all around the vicinity. “Always am. You too.”

“I mean it, princess. I need you back in one piece so I can marry you.”

You sucked in a breath. “W-what?”

“This wasn’t how I planned it but—” Hotch’s voice interrupted his ramblings. Reid. He turned and nodded once before returning his gaze back to your gobsmacked face. “—you did say to communicate right away so I love you and I want to marry you—” he squeezed your clammy hand into his. “—will you say yes?”

Reid. Another commanding voice coming from the unit chief.

Spencer smiled then before beginning his steps back to his position. It felt exhilarating to finally be the one throwing the curveball at you, no wonder you found joy in it—no matter how unconscious you were doing it. “I’ll hear your answer after, okay?”

“Oh, we’re so talking about this later.” you narrowed your eyes in return, taking steps to your opposite position. “Yes, Reid. See you later.”

Spencer looked down at his muddied sneakers, eyes gleaming from mirth and soul flying high unbound before taking a deep breath, schooling everything away and focusing all of him to catching these group of unsubs.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad not having everything go according to plan. After all, didn’t they usually say that the best things usually come when he’d least expect it? And you were the perfect definition of that phrase. His own beautiful disruptor and he wouldn’t have you in any other way.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[eddiernunson]

"Do You Want One?" | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: your cousin shows you around Hawkins High for your first day, and is surprised to say the least when her sweet cousin hooks onto Eddie Munson. Just seeing him brings a swoop to your stomach you've never quite felt before, and become desperate for more of him.

Warnings: late bloomer!reader, virgin!reader, mentions never having experienced lust of the sort or really understanding what it is, corruption!kink, little praise, taking of virginity, slight perv!eddie

Authors' note: I, myself didn't feel any sort of sexual attraction or lust until i was 15/16. I tried to write the reader innocent without being infantilized. Also, these photos are for aesthetics only, not much of the reader is described, except for height. Also, my editor pulled through, despite her busy schedule, thanks @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you! This is a birthday present to @bebe07011, always one of the first to read <3

Word Count: 9k

The subtle, yet annoying ring of your alarm yanks you out of your sleep, a sleep that took hours to settle into after anxious tossing and turning. A yawn overtakes your body as you sit up, looking around sleepily at the boxes that contain the contents of your room. You whine as the stars overflow your vision from the rubbing of your eye.

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, tasting the mint of your mouthwash when your mom pushes a bagel into your hand. Most of the kitchen is still in boxes, just a few appliances on the unnaturally bare counters. “Hey, Aunt Karen just called and said Nancy will be here any minute.” She offers, and a part of you feels for the bags under her eyes.

“Thanks.” You say, garbled with a piece of bagel in your mouth.

“Oh, and Mike is being a little testy, so he probably won’t move from the front seat for you.” She laughs, shaking her head.

You shrug, not caring. “I’ve been in the backseat for this long.”

Two honks out the front announce their arrival, and you ignore the anxious reminders she hurriedly spits out as you grab your backpack by the front door, already filled with school supplies from Texas. You shout an I love you to her as the Wheelers’ Station Wagon comes into your sight from the swung open door, finally out of her worried clutches that you’ve been in from the last week straight.

True to Aunt Karen’s word, Mike gave a defiant look when Nancy demanded he get out the front seat. Again, you didn’t care. “Sorry Mike has a ruler up his ass.” Nancy apologizes, her smirk reaching your own in the rearview.

You roll your eyes, a signal that it really doesn’t matter to you.

Hawkins, miniscule in comparison to that of your old home, Houston, passes by in the windows and you huff a sigh out at how much smaller your world has gotten. Your town, your school…you wish you could go back and give a reality check to the girl who patronized Nancy for it on the phone.

As promised, Nancy shows you to the front office and your first few classes. Being the new girl in the middle of a semester is absolute bullshit, but at least it wasn’t Forks, Washington levels of bullshit. That level of attention would’ve had you crawling under a bridge. Thank God only one teacher asked you to introduce yourself to the class. The rest of them couldn’t even be bothered.

Nancy sits alone at lunch, a notepad in her hand next to a near empty lunch tray. One thing you notice is that this school is much more categorized than yours was. It felt straight out of a high school dramedy, one you would criticize for being cliché.

Oh. Maybe it does some have truth to it.

“Hey loner.” You greet her, your butt hitting the hard plastic chair.

“I’m not a loner.” She huffs, hand moving absentmindedly as she writes. “My news team is getting this week’s paper done, we usually get it done during lunch.”

You roll your eyes, having noted the empty space on her tray. “You work too hard.”

“Nope. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.” She answers, her signature side smirk on her face. Sometimes, only sometimes, Nancy doesn’t really have a serious bone in her body.

You gesture to the cafeteria, opening your fruit cup. “So, tell me about your very categorized cafeteria.”

She laughs, pausing in the middle of the sentence she’s writing. “So. There’s the jocks/cheerleaders, the nerds, the band nerds, drama nerds, science nerds—"

“Those are different from the regular nerds?” You ask, eyebrow quirked.

“Yes.” She deadpans. “Those are the kids without a clique,” she points, a bunch of kids not interacting, shyly nibbling at their lunches. “And finally, where my brother sits. Hellfire.”

It felt dramatic, but the table definitely earned their last but not least position. They stand out from the crowd, not seeming to care about fitting in like everyone else so desperately does. From the looks of it, individually, none of them would fit in the crowd. As a group, they stick out like a sore thumb. They don’t even care.

Nancy seems to be speaking, but she fades into the background. While you tricked yourself into believing you were observing the table, it occurs to you your eyes are fixated on the head of it, your heart beating out of your chest as you stare at him.

Him.

“Who’s he?” You interrupt Nancy, watching as his long frizzy hair curtain over his face. You didn’t even know someone in real life could be this good looking, you were sure it was reserved for celebrities in magazines.

Nancy switches her glance back and forth between your slack jaw and wide eyes and him. “That’s Eddie Munson.” She answers, her voice calculated. “The dork that I complained about Mike copying, remember?”

Your tongue reaches out to lick your lips, staring at him distractedly. A hot feeling in the swell of your gut overwhelms your senses. “You described a wet-rat loser.”

Nancy huffs in abrupt laughter. “That’s cause he is!”

“Him?” You ask, this hot feeling starting to radiate. You notice it’s especially hot in your crotch, a sort of…want you’ve never felt before. You’ve never craved for anyone this badly.

Nancy laughs in disbelief, surprised to say the least that her sweet cousin is openly drooling over Eddie The Freak Munson of all people. “I can put in a good word, if you want.” She teases, smirking at the way your eyes widen in panic.

“No, no, please don’t.” You insist, your eyes finally flickering back to her.

“Fine, you can drool from afar.” She muses. “Oh, lunch’ll be over in a handful of minutes. What’s your next class?”

“History.” You answer, viewing your crumpled schedule. God, not another boring lecture.

Nancy bites her lip, something she’s clearly not willing to share with the class. You don’t ask, still trying to catch your breath.

She walks you across the school to the classroom littered with historical figures and maps. She salutes you, telling you she’ll see you in AP Calculus right after this one. The look on her face never leaves it, she’s always got a secret right under the surface, but this one seemed more entertaining than the rest.

When you enter the classroom, the teacher tells you there’s assigned seats in this one and lucky for you, there’s one seat left. She directs you to the far-left corner, signalling to the one on the right. You shyly ignore the looks on your new classmates faces, all of them observing the face of the new kid who started so late in the year.

New faces are always hard to ignore, it’s just human nature to stare. Still, your stage fright is present in the forefront of your mind.

Your teacher starts the lecture by introducing you as a new kid, offering a wave to everyone that turns their head to look at you. Why can’t teachers just learn to be normal?

Your head is turned down, leaning on your elbow as she starts to explain a concept you’ve already learned last year. Are they sure they put you in a grade 12 class? At least this will be easier than most. Suddenly the heavy door opens, and your heart stutters as the man who’s taken over your every thought stumbles into the room ten minutes late.

“Mr. Munson! How nice of you to join us!” She greets, her scowl indicating that it’s anything but.

“You are so welcome, Miss. Greyson.” Eddie answers, his voice dripping in a tenor tone that sends a shiver down your spine. Not a lick of sarcasm comes from him, answering as if she was genuine.

She sighs, closing her eyes in exasperation. “Just go have a seat.”

Something in you suddenly realizes that the only available seat is right next to yours. A thrill takes over you, biting your lip excitedly as he struts as if he has all the time in the world.

After a brief stint on the projector, Miss. Greyson instructs the class to open their textbooks and answer questions on the following pages. “You may work in pairs.” She answers the many raised hands, and the room is filled by the harsh sound of desks groaning against the floor.

You get up from your desk, leaning into the teacher as she gathers the laminated sheets she had just used for the lesson. “I don’t have a textbook, yet.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She replies, dropping her pile to shuffle off to her desk. “I completely forgot, in all the excitement.” She hands you the textbook that looks about fifteen years old, the spine cracked to oblivion. She leans in as you grab it, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry about the placement of your desk, just ignore him. There was no one I hated in this classroom enough to place next to him.”

You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow, perplexed at her open disdain for him. It reminded you of the tone of voice Nancy had over the phone, wondering if the whole school was really this open about it. “I’ll live.” You answer, and she winks like you two share a secret.

Your textbook lands harshly on the desk, opening it to the page indicated in white chalk written on the blackboard. God, the reading is four pages, and the questions are a paragraph each. This much reading on the downfall of Mycenae? A jarring noise to your left surprises you, looking up to face his desk come closer and closer.

He leans over, a smile on his face that sends a thrill right through you. “So, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

He talks low, you spend the time hoping he doesn’t notice the goosebumps that trails over your skin. “Uh, I just started today.” You beg yourself to seem normal, to look him in the eyes like a decent conversationalist. You can’t bring yourself to, no matter how hard you try. Somehow you know when you finally look in those eyes of his, you’ll be too mesmerized to look away.

The printed words on the page make no sense, just a blur of boring text in black and white.

He leans back in his chair; you can feel his eyes planted on you. “Ah, makes sense. I would’ve remembered seeing your pretty face around.”

Oh my god he just called me pretty. Surely, he’s lying? Being in his line of sight and being considered good looking enough to him for him to even glance at was never in your wildest imagination, picturing him glazing right over you. Just a bug on the windshield. You gulp, pretending to be infatuated with the page in front of you instead of the man next to you.

“You shy?” He asks. In the corner of your eye, you see him leaning onto his elbow, his eyes staring a hole in your head.

Finally, you tear your glance off the textbook and onto him. God were you right about his eyes. How can a pair of brown eyes be so captivating? They’re a perfect chocolate brown, his mouth in a lopsided expression that sucks the air out of your lungs. “A little.” You admit, distracted by the sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk.

His limber fingers are dressed in chunky silver rings, the sight of his hands moving distractedly suddenly sends the heat you felt in your stomach earlier into a frenzy, the pull strong and overwhelming. “I can work with that.” A shy smile lands on your face, clenching your teeth as a method of resisting the urge to smile ear to ear. “Can I get a name?”

You tell him and hearing it from his lips is a vice and a half. “And you’re Eddie.” You say before he can introduce himself.

“So, my reputation precedes me.” He laughs, crossing his arms. “Or am I exactly like they said?”

You shrug. “Not exactly.”

His shoulders indicate a silent huff of laughter. “Care to expand on that?”

You shrug again. “You’re just…different.”

The look on his face indicates this answer isn’t good enough, but he doesn’t care to ask you to expand any further. As you work on your homework, finally settling your heartbeat and breathing rate, he writes in a notebook littered with graffiti. His left foot rests on the edge of his desk, the book resting on his thigh as he writes with the dull pencil.

He’s not doing any homework, but he’s at least letting you work on yours. The bell finally rings, dismissing you from your class and the room fills with chatter as everyone packs their bags. “You know where your next class is?”

You shake your head; having told Nancy you could work it out on your own. “Uh, no. It’s AP Calculus with Mr. Warner.”

“Mr. Warner.” He muses, his notebook in one hand and carrying a small metal tin. “Here, I’ll walk you.”

You pause, gulping as your bag rests on one shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.” You insist, suddenly realizing he’s about a whole head taller than you.

He smiles, his gaze making you feel…hot. “I didn’t ask, sweetheart.”

The way you gulp, your wide eyes darting back and forth between his, your teeth biting on your bottom lip nervously, Eddie was startled at the physical reaction and it was all going straight to his dick. The urge to shove his thumb between your pretty, plump lips is overwhelming, to say the least.

“Oh.” You answer, fingernails digging into the strap of your backpack. “Then lead the way.”

Eddie shakes his head, starting down the hallway to the other end of the school. As soon as he reaches the classroom, he turns around, leaning against the locker on his arm, neck hunching over you. Oh god, he’s gorgeous. “Will you let me take you out on a date, tonight?”

Every bone in your body wants to say yes, fingers just itching to reach out and touch his lithe hips. “My mom won’t let me go out on a Monday.”

So, that was not a No. “I would’ve asked for Friday, but I can’t wait that long.”

His admission drives you crazy, that heat ever present. Things like this just don’t happen. “Neither can I.” You admit, feeling scared of the rush that overwhelms you, yet scared of the idea of it never happening. You think quickly, biting your lip. “Think you can pick me up from my cousin’s house?”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans against the locker. “Who’s your cousin?"

“Nancy Wheeler.”

His eyes bug out of the sockets, sighing in disbelief. “You’re cousins with Wheeler?” You nod, wondering if there’s any unspoken animosity between them. “I’ve dropped her kid brother off a few times, I know where she lives. You gonna tell your mom where you’re heading out for the night?”

You shake your head, sure he knows the answer, already.

Eddie huffs, hoping the crotch of his pants won’t give him away. “You ever snuck out before?”

“No.” You answer, looking up as the bell rings. “But I’m sure I can manage.”

You can’t place the expression on his face, somewhere between bewildered and amused.

For the record, it’s pure lust, having just met you and he’s already accidentally convincing you to sneak out for him. He wants you to, wondering if one day you’ll go so far to skip class to have fun with him under the bleachers.

His eyes leer down your body, watching as your skirt dances across your bare thighs while your feet can’t stay in place. He plays with his fingers absentmindedly, just barely resisting the urge to move them past the barrier and watch your face melt in pleasure.

“What time?” Eddie asks, eyes flickering up to your sweet face.

You think about it, knowing you’ll need time to grab at least a dress and get ready at the Wheelers’. “7:30.”

Eddie laughs, turning away from you and back down the hall to where you presumed his class was. “Pick you up at 7.”

“I-I said 7:30!”

“I’ll honk twice!” He answers, hand in his pocket like he didn’t just glue you into place.

The echo of his voice suddenly reminds you the halls are empty, only a few feet away from Mr. Warners classroom. You know more than anyone that AP Calculus students just aren’t late. Maybe he’ll give you grace on your first day.

You ignore the way every set of eyes switch to you, looking around the room for an empty seat. Luckily, Nance has saved one right next to you. “Hi, sorry. Couldn’t find it.”

“That’s alright, take this and have a seat right next to Miss.Wheeler, there.” He offers, gesturing to your cousin.

When the lecture ends and he assigns homework, she gets right to the point. “So, how was History?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “You knew he’d be there.” You accuse, her grin affirming your assumption completely. “A warning would’ve been nice.”

“Not like you had to speak to him.” Nancy sighs, opening her textbook to the page indicated.

You stare at her pointedly, opening your book to a random page. “I sat next to him.”

Nancy instinctively knows something is up, seeing something was on your mind. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You’ve barely given me a chance.” You comment sarcastically, looking over at her expectant face. “He…he asked me out.”

To say Nancy is surprised at this development would be simply, an understatement. “I’m sorry?”

You grin, finally letting that smile you’ve been hiding take over. “He’s picking me up at 7.”

“Like your mom will let you go out on a weekday.” She squints, knowing your mom’s tendencies to make you prioritize school over anything else.

“…which is why I need you to cover for me.” You hesitate, grinning shyly when she gives you a look of utter disbelief.

“Seriously?” You nod, pleading with her silently. “Fine. But you owe me big.”

You promise to make it up to her.

When the bell rings signifying the end of the day, your heart beats rapidly as the time for your date comes closer and closer. Nancy said she wouldn’t be able to help with your conundrum of the fact that you’ll need a dress and a way to get from your house to Nancy’s.

As you sit next to her while she writes a rough copy of an article wondering who you could possibly get to drive you. You might be shit out of luck. Like an angel, a freckled redhead appears out of nowhere. “Nance, is that the cousin?” She asks, sitting right across from you.

From the look on Nancy’s face, you’re unsure how close they actually are. “Yep.”

“Cool! I’m Robin, over-sharer, anxiety ridden, fast talker. Nice to meet ya.”

You take her extended hands, sort of hypnotized by her warm green eyes. “You too.”

“Hey, Steve busy?” Nancy asks, a million thoughts behind her head.

“Probably not.” Robin offers, getting up from the table. “Why?”

“Oh, she needs a ride.”

Robin eyes you, a smirk landing on her face. “I can convince him.” She side eyes, gesturing for you to follow.

You follow her around the school to the front where you face a handsome lanky dude sitting impatiently as he waits for his friend. When he turns the window down to ask who you are, you realize he’s not just handsome, he’s hot. God, you’ll have to reprimand Nancy for leaving that detail out. “What’s with the guest?”

“She’s Nance’s cousin. She needs a ride, would you mind?”

“What am I, a chauffeur?” Steve asks, face shifting into a deep scowl.

You stop Robin from responding, having an immediate comeback. “I had to listen to my cousin bitch about you for hours. Hours. I think I deserve a little compensation for my time, don’t you?”

Steve smirks, looking from under the hair falling into his face. “Whatever, get in.”

“Where you need a ride to?” He asks as you get into his backseat.

“My house.” You pause, hesitating to say the second location. “Then Nancy’s house.”

Steve squints suspiciously at you in his rear view. “Why two locations?”

“So my date can pick me up tonight.” You admit, glancing out the window shyly.

Robin turns in her seat, jaw dropping open. “Isn’t this your first day?”

You shrug, biting back a smile. “So?”

“Oh shit.” She glances to Steve and back to you. “Who? Do we know him?”

“Um, probably.”

“We know him.” Robin states.

“Turn here, third house on the left…” you tell him, getting out of his car as soon as it stops.

When you get inside your house, you explain to your mom you are way further behind on school than you thought you were and will need some time to get caught up. She asks how late you’ll be, and when you say midnight, she doesn’t even hesitate to let you go.

Thank god you don’t lie, because this should not be this easy. Your hands ruffle through the box of dresses by your bed, grabbing at a few you know look good on you. They’re stuffed into your backpack, cursing yourself for not unpacking your makeup earlier. Hopefully Nancy will be nice enough to lend you some. (You doubt it.)

You rush a love you out to your mom and back into Steve’s back seat, out of breath from running up and down the stairs so damn fast. God, the things you were doing for your goddamn date.

Nancy only lives down a few blocks from you, thus the easy carpool your moms figured out until you get your car. God, in Houston you could’ve just taken a METRORail, you didn’t need a damn car. You thank Steve profusely, thankful for his saving grace.

You would rather tell every member of Hawkins Senior class personally a fun fact about you than go out with Eddie in the same thing you wore to school. You’re shy, not pathetic.

“You don’t owe him anything if you tell us who asked you out.” She calls out of her open window, face full amusement. “C’mon!”

You wait as they pull forward, Steve shaking his head at his best friend’s shenanigans. “It’s Eddie Munson!” You shout, laughing as she shouts a what in utter disbelief.

You wave as they take off, thinking you and her could actually be great friends. She has the kind of spunk you look for in a friend, the same spunk you’ve witnessed in your cousin. A large part of you wonders why they’re not friends.

When your Aunt Karen wonders why she wasn’t alerted, you give the disclaimer you’re just there to catch up on the schoolwork. Your Uncle Ted insinuates Houston must be so far behind Hawkins, and you grit a smile in response, an indent on the tip of your tongue from your teeth. Most of your lessons from the school day you had learned last year, already earning top marks on those questions. The only class that was remotely hard was calculus.

It was borderline hilarious.

You run up the stairs, stomach in knots.                                                                         

Nancy is nice enough to let you use her makeup, grinning up at you with amusement as you ruffle through the dresses you so hurriedly packed. She gives a definite yes to a dress you knew stands out but worry at the way it just brushes against your thigh, and the neckline dives deeper than what you’re used to.

When it cascades down your body, the look in her stark green eyes tells you everything you need to know. This was the dress. Nancy is kind enough to do your hair, talking quietly with you as she curls your hair.

The half hour leading up to 7 has you lying on her bed, freaking out. She does the homework you’re supposed to be doing, answering your questions vaguely. She tries to make you feel better, grinning cheekily as she never imagined her sweet cousin going on date with Hawkin’s resident metal head.

When two honks occur down the street, you sit up starkly at the sound, biting your lip as you glance to her. “Go. I’ll distract my parents.”

She does, asking them for faux advice in the living room as you sneak past them to the front door, closing it with the most care you could muster. When you don’t hear any commotions, that gives you the go ahead to run down the street to the large van that sticks out, headlights on as it sits idly.

You peer up at him through the passenger window, waving as he unlocks it for you. The lopsided smile on his face starts that heat up again, like he turns on burners all over your body at will. The door shuts behind you, and you smile up at him shyly when he turns down the music.

“You look…wow.” He compliments you, watching the way your eyes look up at him, that beautiful shine.

You assess his outfit, a leather jacket worn with a graphic t-shirt and jeans with rips at the knee. He looked casual, but damn fine regardless. Him losing his metal accessories and devil-may-care look probably would’ve disappointed you, anyway. “So do you.” You offer back, taking in the way he looks as he starts his van and pulls out.

“Thanks.” He winks, turning at a traffic intersection. “So, there are several places we can go, the movies, Hal’s Diner, Benny’s Burgers, bowling alley, the Drive In, up to you, sweetheart.” He insists, driving his van around the small town.

The only thing you want at the current moment is to be in close quarters with him, with the need to kiss him crazy, a need you’ve experienced far too much this quickly. There’s only one thing that allows that. “Drive in.” You decide, the prospect of those same close quarters sending a thrill down your spine.

Eddie signals left, the drive-in location the opposite way from where he’s been driving. “Sounds good, love.”

Eddie doesn’t ignore the way you subtly avoid eye contact from him, shyly looking at your near bare thighs. By the way, were you trying to get a rise out of him with this wonderfully slinky dress you’re wearing? The moment you crawled into his van he was overthrown by your sweet perfume and the way your dress smooths over your gorgeous curves. It’s too hard, impossibly hard, to resist leaning in for your sweet scent, to nuzzle his nose in your neck. The idea that you don’t want to leave the intimacy of the van any more than he does is enough to bring the urge to readjust the crotch of his jeans.

By the time he pulls up into the far corner of the lot, turning on his radio so it connects with the movie mid-beginning credit scene, you take in the sparce parking lot, only a few vehicles spread apart sporadically. Well, you wanted intimate. You wanted close, now you've got it. His freshly showered self with the mix of his cologne just adding fuel to the ever-increasing fire.

This fire suddenly sends the need to squeeze your legs together, not completely understanding the feeling, but there’s an inkling. An instinct that on some level you know what it is, but no one ever warned you it could be this intense.

The first act of the movie is shared by you and Eddie laughing at the same jokes together, grabbing candy from his hands when he offers it. You sip on a straw in a glass coke bottle, if only to calm the nerves combined with heat that has completely overshadowed any sense you seem to have. Eddie leans back comfortably in his fabric covered seat, a hand landing on your bare thigh.

Oh, that turned up the heat several notches. It starts to become clearer that this heat is what can now be more clearly defined as a want. A want for…more of his hands, further up, him, close to you. Closer.

As your thighs tense and clench under his touch, Eddie can’t hold back any more like he planned. His other hand is tucked under your chin, lifting your big eyes to look up at his. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, your mouth parting as you look up at him with stars in your eyes. “Can I?”

Your eyebrows furrow, breath stuttering as you peer up at him. You nod your head, glancing at his shiny pink lips. Every inch of air is tugged from your lungs as he leans forward, lips open as he places them on yours.

Eddie had every intention of kissing you delicately, the way he knows you deserve to be kissed, gently and patiently. As soon as the whimper leaves your throat and vibrates into his mouth, he forgets his good intentions. The kiss turns dirty, fast, the pressure of his spread hand increasing in the best fucking way, making your body fold involuntarily towards him.

Just when you’re enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours, mewling pathetically against his lips, Eddie starts to kiss down your throat. You sigh, leaning back as that heat finally gains a resolve. Oh, god you're horny. Is that what that is? No wonder teenage boys are such perverts.

The combination of teeth and tongue is everything you needed and more; every muscle feeling like jelly as his lips and hands work like magic over you. Eddie licks a strip up to your ear, a startled and blissful moan filling up the car. He skips right past the pleasantries, past any inclination that you were anything other than wild for eachother. “You ever touch yourself, sweetheart?”

Only God knows why, but the dirty sentence just makes you hungrier for him, more eager. However, the answer to that jarring question is an honest and stuttered, “No.”

 Eddie separates from you, giving you a look, you can’t quite place. “Wait, really?” You confirm it, breathing heavily, gasping as his eyes visibly darken. “So, you’ve never cum before?”

The sentence makes your eyes widen, gulping at that gorgeous face of his. You think you know what he means, but you still need clarification.

“Orgasm, princess. Have you ever had an orgasm?” He asks, a hand placed on your cheek as he watches your reaction.

Oh. That’s what you thought. That’s an absolute and definitive, “No.”

His fingers increase their pressure, a reflex of from his reaction. God, you’re more innocent than he even knew. The idea of even teaching you what it means to get off sends a swoop through his gut, picturing you looking at him with those wide eyes as he corrupts you.

God, does he want to corrupt you. He wants to corrupt every inch of you, turn you into someone who begs him to skip class so you can guzzle on his cock. The way you stare up at him waiting for a response, eyes glazed over as you wait for him to continue kissing you, as if you don’t even remember you’re at a drive in to begin with.

His cock has never hurt so much from the blood pulsing through it, probably an angry red at this point.

“Can I give you one?” He asks, thumb starting to rub on your bottom lip again.

“An-an orgasm?” You stutter, voice squeaking through the question. He’s gorgeous, the way he stares down at you, those same chocolate brown eyes making that heat pool. Despite the fear, the arousal is greater. “Uh, sure.”

He smirks, watching your eyes dart back and forth nervously. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You confirm, pulling him for the kiss you so desperately crave. You weren’t sure how it happens, your hands having a damn mind of their own. Despite him pulling away, he slips back into the kiss easily, the hand on your thigh and hand on your face making you feel dizzy.

You’ve had kisses before, but you knew you were missing something in them. At last, you’ve found it, desperately clinging onto his kiss. God, he’s good at making you turn into mush, relaxing into his seats almost completely.

His hand inches up your thigh, waiting for you to protest. Your breath hitches as he gets closer and closer. “I'm gonna make you feel so good.” He promises, his hot breath turning you into a liquid. Finally, his hand lands on the cotton of your underwear, his strokes tugging mewls into his open mouth. “Shit, you’re soaked, baby. You even know how much you want me? Probably confusing, hmm?”

He puts pressure at the top, rubbing small circles and it feels like fire is set to your center, gasping as your concentration falls apart. His fingers feel good, in a way you didn’t think was possible. Words in your mind echo the thought of how damn good he feels, mouth attempting to tell him, but nothing comes out but wanton gasps.

Eddie watches you wither in his chair, legs opening for him. Sure, giving you an orgasm is a fierce turn on, but knowing you’ve never experienced any type of pleasure or want is sent straight to his cock. He remembers learning how good it felt to start rubbing his cock when it got hard, how often he started doing it when he realized it led to something.

All he wants to do is turn you into a pervert, one orgasm at a time.

That same warmth that’s made home in your gut starts to build, your thighs tensing up when it occurs to you what its building to. “Fuck.” You gasp, Eddie humming at the swear that leaves your lips. “Close, and I haven’t even really touched you, hmm?” He muses, lips starting to add a second sensation on your neck with his hot and wet tongue.

He pushes your underwear aside, fingers finally making direct contact with the wet slick of your folds. “Eddie.” You gasp. The skin on skin makes your head spin, clutching onto his leather jacket with desire. The pleasure jumps up thirty notches, that build reaching an all-time high. Nothing has ever felt better, never so fantastic. Again, now you understand why teenagers are such perverts.

“Let me see you cum, I can feel it coming, baby.” He whispers, licking his lips.

He slides a finger deep in you, the sudden intrusion alien but welcome. On the edge, you become even more completely desperate for him. How was his finger even better? How was that possible? The feat thrills you, happily and willingly giving into everything he gives you. “Damn. Baby. You look so fucking good, think you can cum for me?”

His fingers hook within you, and it pushes you over the edge you’ve been staring down, stars invading your vision, the heat you’ve felt everywhere, all at once. Your tight entrance pulses around his fingers, twitching, not aware of the loud, whiny moans that Eddie’s sure the concession stand less than twenty feet away can hear, but he’s proud of it, grinning maniacally at his hard work.

He guides you through it, thrusting his fingers as he watches you come apart under his touch. When you stop shaking, his hand rubs your pussy gently, admiring the slick that is now pooled down your thighs and even onto his chair. He smirks, catching your eye when they finally open to face him. “How’re you doing, love?”

You forget to be shy in your smile, grinning maniacally as you grab him, yanking him in for a hot, wet kiss. It’s even dirtier than before, attempting to show him how grateful you feel for his magical fingers. “That was…so…good.” You mumble, smiling wider when you can feel him do the same.

“Feels good, hmm?” He asks, his fingers still stroking you gently.

“Jesus.” You answer, thighs convulsing involuntarily.

Eddie chuckles, amused that it takes you cumming to cum out of your shell. “You’re pretty like this, you know?” You roll your eyes, and he can feel the dismissal of his compliment. “Can I eat you out, baby?” It shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but it is. You barely know any of this terminology, and he can feel you tense up below him, your once liquid limbs turning to steel. “You have no idea what that means, do you, baby?”

You shake your head, gulping in the embarrassment.

“That’s ok. Of course, I don’t mind helping you.” Eddie doesn’t mind. When he says that he’s under exaggerating, not showing an ounce of his true feelings. How much does it take for you to squirm under his dirty words? How much patience does he have before he begs you to let him shove his hardened cock down your throat. How long will it be until you’re riding him like a porn star? If he was even slightly sleezier, he’d bet on it with someone. “I’d make that pretty pussy feel even better with my tongue.”

Oh. That sounds miles better than anything your brain could’ve come up with. You bite your lip, staring up at him with pure want. “You’d do that?”

“If you’re willing to come into the back with me.” He muses, nodding his head to his elongated trunk. You turn your head, facing a fleece blanket placed on the floor of the van with a few pillows. Did he do this for you, or is it always this nice?

Eddie doesn’t think you can get any cuter, but when you nod excitedly, starting to crawl into the back before he can say anything, he’s proven dead wrong. He’s never been so happy to be wrong. As you crawl, he watches your ass, your underwear still pulled to the side as the shine on your folds is still visible in the light of the movie.

He smiles, crawling as soon as you land awkwardly on the floor of the van. You sit cross legged waiting for him, one spaghetti strap fallen off your shoulder as you bite your lip anxiously. It doesn’t help Eddie that the strap on your shoulder starts to reveal a breast, just peeking at the top of the nipple. He’s barely seen you, just at the tip of the iceberg of touching you, and he’s about to pop from the anticipation.

How are you doing this to him so easily?

Eddie leans in for a kiss, something as soft as he wanted to give you the moment he saw you sitting in the desk next to his, but his hormones got the worst of him. He kisses each bare shoulder, admiring the way you relax into it.  His long fingers reach to the already fallen strap, fingers brushing as he tugs it down further, fully exposing the partially exposed tit. Your heart races, loud, too loud, in your temple and you wonder if he can hear it.

Eddie can’t, as heartbeats are usually inaudible to the naked ear. He can hear, however, the way those sweet breaths get louder, faster, and even more utterly pathetic for him. Eddie feels a goal take over his mind like a parasite, one he welcomes with a bed made. He plans to make you moan and whine louder so that everyone within ten miles can hear how good you feel, what a good whore you are—he’s getting ahead of himself.

Right now, he focuses on making you feel comfortable, helping you become at ease so you will never be self-conscious with him, never afraid of being too loud, or too eager. He can’t imagine ever thinking otherwise with you. He thought he knew the definition of impossible, but now he knows he had no clue.

Every sensible, distinguishable thought has left your brain, too focused on how good his tongue and teeth feel as he expertly works on your beaded nipple. His brain is going a million miles per hour, yours left behind in the middle of a desert. His hand guides the other strap down your shoulder, fully exposing your chest, the soft material falling so it sits wrapped around your hips.

Teeth scrape against the curve of your breast, as if his tongue is attempting to taste every inch, every centimetre of it. One hand smoothing the skin just below them. Wet kisses trail down your torso, tongue dipping into your navel, the sweet swell of your stomach, his dull nails digging into your soft flesh, the pain adding to the beauty of the mixed sensations.

Your pussy is raging in fire, shouting for the same attention he had been so generous at providing. He feels your thighs tensing, attempting to provide friction for yourself where you need it the most. “Does it hurt, baby?” He asks, mouth now at the base of your neck. “Does that sweet pussy hurt for it?” You nod, rubbing your thighs like a damn cricket. “Oh, I know, I’ll make it all feel better, don’t you worry.”

He admires your face, the way your eyes are closed with the muscles beautifully crumpled up.

“Lie down for me, and I’ll eat that fucking pretty pussy.” Without hesitation, you lay down, shifting your body so you can lie comfortably on the floor of the van.

When you do, his hands tug at the fabric around your waist, not pulling it off you, just clutching it like a vice. They slink under it, fingers tight on the waistband on your panties as he pulls them down your legs. As they leave your feet, pulling them around your heels, Eddie stares at the drenched middle, fingers playing with the thick slick that had gathered. Eddie seems to have a talent for stealing the air from your lungs, doing so as you watch him taste them. “Taste so fucking good, sweets.” He makes a show of placing them into his back pocket, shooting a wink when you give him a questioning look.

He adjusts himself onto his forearms, both hands landing on the top of your thighs as his head dives in between them. Your thigh muscles tense in his hold, begging him for mercy, any kind. “Eddie…please…I need…I need—”

He chuckles, bending over your wanton body. “I love how you say my name, but I’m gonna make you scream it.” He mutters, the scent of your arousal making his vision fizzle.

Finally, finally, his tongue touches you, relishing in the immediate whine that leaves your lips. He hums against you, enjoying the way your legs move restlessly. The first touches are so delicate, your heels digging in his (still) clothed back and grinding your hips to force more contact. “That’s a girl, take what you want from me.” He praises you, hand stroking your thigh gently.

The simple instruction drives your hips to grind more, Eddie’s tongue licking up your slick folds harder in response. At this point, fire isn’t a hot enough word to describe the heat in your pussy. Eddie starts to focus on your clit, his ears suddenly muffled by your thighs abruptly closing on his head. He starts a rhythm, switching back and forth, listening to how your sweet whines answer him.

Any thoughts occurring in your head are long gone, all out of your mouth before your brain even knows you’re thinking it. You wonder how you didn’t think of this, ‘how the first thing you thought when you saw Eddie not how good he would look between your legs’?

Answer: the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life. (Spoiler, there will be better things.)

Eddie is more than happy to play with you, to listen how you react to every touch he provides. So far, his favourite sound is when his tongue enters your sopping hole, fucking it gloriously. It was the first truly uninhibited sound he managed to pull from you. Every decision he made for you was purposeful, doing his damn best to send you over the edge again. He wonders how willing he is to put off his own pleasure for the sake of yours.

Honestly, to hear you come apart repeatedly is 1000% worth it to him, even if he has to rut against the floor of the van.

“Cl-close, Eddie.” You tell him, that sudden ending sneaking up on you. “So, so, so, so, good!”

Eddie takes your admission with pride, and as the stars invade your vision, your every limb tensing as you cum, he keeps going.

In your post orgasm haze, the over sensitivity of your pussy is overwhelming. However, his continuing and relentless mouth feels so good you relish in it, absolutely sure your legs will be sore from the constant convulsing. You whimper through a hushed and delayed swear, your hands weaving through his curls and tugging on his scalp.

His thumb meets your clit, rubbing feverishly and driving another orgasm out of you faster than you ever expected. His name is music to his ears as you shout it when the orgasm takes over you. “Fuck, Eddie, mouth feels…ah!”

His brown eyes open, nose nuzzling your clit as he stares at you through those darkened eyes. His tongue licks a long stripe, chin resting the mound of your pubic bone. “Think you can handle a few more?”

Your chest heaves, struggling to catch your breath as you lift your head up to face him.  Your head feels like a weight, too heavy on your neck. Your mouth opens to answer him, but the weight of your head wins, landing back on the van.

Eddie works your clit again, watching your breasts move up and down as you struggle to catch your breath. “Maybe not that many more, hmm? Maybe just one?” …if he’s strong enough to hold back from giving you two.

Stopping at this point would give you a break you need, but at the same time you can’t bear to, Eddie’s tongue acting as a siren’s song. You’re hypnotized by him. “More, please. Please keep going.”

“I love hearing your voice beg for me. Your whimpers are the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life, sweets.”

Eddie dives in again, your choked whimpers telling any near neighbors that you simply don’t remember they exist. They’re not important enough to care about anymore.

As much as you are sensitive to every single touch, even over-stimulated, you welcome the next three orgasms he gives you. At the end of your third, or sixth, orgasm, Eddie rests his chin on your mound again, staring up at you as you recollect yourself. He’s patient, watching the light making its way back into your eyes.

Eddie nearly asks you a question, when your hand reaches out to grab him by his leather collar. He lets out a yelp of surprise, his fully clothed form an odd juxtaposition against your completely naked one. Well, save for the dress still on your waist. Your lips meet, tongues gliding against each other beautifully, and you taste yourself in his mouth. Even with your brain as foggy as it is, your body feeling as weak as it does, the number one thing you can focus on is getting those clothes off him.

Your hands fidget on the harsh leather collar, forcing it off his back. “Take it off,” you tell him, Eddie grinning cheekily in response. As soon as his jacket is off, you feel the graphic shirt start to come off with it. The reveal of his patched treasure trail, his bare skin against yours a marvel of sensations. You become impatient, attempting to hurry the process of taking his shirt off.

A symphony of laughter leaves his lips as his shirt finally is tossed off to the side, watching your eyes marvel at his tattoo littered chest. Your tits pressed against him pulls a groan from his lips, a sound that drives your legs to tug his tented jeans down against your bare pussy. If you thought his tongue felt good, it’s nothing compared to his hips against yours.

His voice is strained, dripping in husk. “Sh-shit, doll. I-I need you. Need to feel that virgin pussy wrapped around my cock. Need it so bad, please.”

Eddie begging like this being such a turn on is a surprise, to say the least. And from the pleasure he gave you, you’re willing him to do whatever he wants to you.

Whatever. He wants.

“Really? You want me?” You ask, whining as he ruts again.

“Desperately.”

Your hand moves down to the button of his jeans, undoing it with shaky hands and even shakier breathing. “You gonna take my virginity, Eddie?”

Somehow you knew this would make him crazy. You enjoyed it, enjoyed the crazy, adored his moan in approval. “I’m gonna take you, baby.” He grunts, starting to move his jeans down his ass, legs, taking his briefs with them.

He’s quick about it, tongue against your skin as he grabs the dress around your waist and slowly drags it down your legs, tongue dragging down along with it. Slyly, he holds a condom from his pants pockets between two fingers. “You ready?”

You bite your lip, making the bottom lip swell from the constant fidgeting. “I’m on birth control…” you admit, only on it to regulate a heavy flow.

He makes a show of tossing the condom over his shoulder, grinning at his crazy eyes. “Well, shit, darling.” He leans in, feeling the size of him as it brushes against your hip. He’s big, right? “Before I enter that pussy, I need you to do me a favour.”

“Hmm?” You ask, the only thing in your mind is how good his bulge felt when it rutted up against your heat. If that felt that good? Sex with Eddie…your mind goes dizzy from the need.

Eddie takes your hand resting by your head, wrapping it around his hardened length. The moan that leaves his lips is deep and rough. Your unsure fingers allow him to assist you, getting a hold of the rhythm. When you do, he lets you take over, face falling in your neck when your grip tightens. “Okay, I can’t take it any longer.” He whispers, gentle, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Here, help me, will you?”

You don’t ask, only because you don’t have the chance to, when his hips help you brush the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You tease the two of you simultaneously, brushing it numerous times, both of you gasping in harmony. “Oh, you little tease.”

His hand replaces yours, whining as the head finally, finally brushes into your entrance. “Eddie.” You whisper, clinging onto him desperately. “S-so, so, so full.”

“Yeah?” He asks, both winded by the feel of you and by the blissed look on your face. Maybe if he kisses the middle of your eyebrow enough, he can settle every wrinkle you demonstrate from the pain beautifully mixed with pleasure. “Look at you, so drunk on it, did you ever think a cock could make you feel this good? Ever think how much you could want to be fucked so desperately?”

You shake your head, drunk on his words, drunk on his cock. “More, please.”

“Think you can take it?”

You whine impatiently, legs attempting to pull him in harder. “Eddie.”

He smiles as you fall into his trap, pushing in more than he knows he should. He can’t help it, the smile that takes over your face is the perfect reward. “I thought you were shy?”

You roll your eyes, knowing when someone is this close to you, has seen this much of you, there is barely any time to be shy. “Shut up.”

He listens, kissing you deeply as his hips start to move. Your hand weaves itself into his hair, whimpering into his ear as he hits, deeper, harder.

You can’t fully understand the sounds coming out of his mouth, the once coherent, cocky sentences turn into mumbled groans, and it’s refreshing to know he seems to want you as you did him, craved for you the same way. A string of words on repeat come from your mouth, just his name.

The only thing you seem to be able to think of is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, EddieEddieEddieEddie…

“God, your tight pussy, I’m gonna cum soon…” At least, that’s what you think he says. “Gonna fill you up…” You tighten around him, enjoying the prospect of it. “Gonna see it dripping out of you.”

He doesn’t know how it’s possible you tighten around him more.

“God, you take me so well, it’s like you were made for me, made for my cock.”

Head? Empty. Cunt? Full.

Him? Perfect.

“Fill me up, please.”

“Listen to those dirty little words, gonna turn you into a filthy whore.” He whispers, whining together with you in bliss as his hips rut a final, harsh, jagged time.

Time seems to be endless, as he whispers in your ear, hands on his broad back when he settles, keeping his cock warm. Time is so endless; you don’t even notice the movie turning off and the subtle turnover of engines and wheels driving off past the van.

It takes a poor teenage employee to knock on the van doors, politely asking if you could leave because the drive-in is closed, and they need to lock the gate.

To say the way you avoid their eyes after hurriedly putting your dress back on turns Eddie on would be an understatement.

To say when you waltz with him hand in hand down the hallways the next day turns into a sideshow, would be an even bigger understatement.

You sit on his lap during lunch, curious to the reaction of the other boys sitting with him. When Eddie slips his hand under your skirt and plays with your clothed cunt, he knows he’s just starting to corrupt you as you attempt to seem normal.

He’s just getting started.

-

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[eddie-stinks-munson]

Can't Keep My Eyes Off Of You- Eddie Munson

Prompt: “Being unable to keep their eyes off of them”  Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 723 There are some femme characteristics but readers gender isn't otherwise specified, no y/n I told myself I'd write at least one fic before my vacation was over, this is it ---

Eddie Munson was a lot of things, but a star student wasn’t one of them. School was a drag, and he could scarcely find a reason to tune into whatever bullshit the teachers were spouting that day. 

Mrs. Clicks class was the most insufferable by far. The high pitch of her voice was grating, and she was constantly droning on about how “America is the greatest country by far.” 

“Sorry I’m late,” came a voice from the back of the class, in a tone that said they weren’t the least bit sorry, “I overslept.”

Eddie, who had been told time and again that subtly wasn’t his strong suit, whipped his head around. He’d know that voice anywhere, rough around the edges with a hidden softness in the center. That voice filled his dreams, both day and night. 

His eyes met yours, and there you stood, in the back of the classroom. A vision of complete and utter perfection. Black makeup smeared bored eyes, and a grin of cherry red lipstick. 

“Good of you to join us. Take your seat before you further interrupt my lesson.” Mrs. Click responded, with a timbre of disdain she reserved only for a special few students. 

You rolled your eyes and gave a half hearted, sarcastic salute before making your way to your desk. It was one row in front of Eddie, and just to his right. He sighed heavily as you sat down, paying attention was hard enough before. But now with you sitting right there, he found it impossible to even try and look at the board. 

Class was half over and Eddie spent the grand majority of that time either counting the droplets of rain racing down the window, or watching the way your face scrunched up in disgust anytime Mrs. Click voiced an outdated, and flat out incorrect opinion. 

At one point, she’d said something so absurd you turned around and looked at Eddie. Brows furrowed dramatically, as if to say, “can you fuckin believe her?” 

Eddie just rolled his eyes and shook his head. If he was being honest, he hadn’t even heard what Click said. He was too busy watching the way your cutoff Dead Kennedy’s t-shirt rode up when you stretched. 

Any time Eddie tried to look at anything else, you did something to bring his attention back to you. He was half convinced you were doing it on purpose at this point. Like the way you moved your sleep disheveled hair to the side, showing off the curve of your neck/ It was such unmitigated perfection. There was no way it wasn’t a calculated attempt on your part to distract him. 

You were fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, and Eddie was absently mirroring you when the bell ripped him from his reverie. When you got up from your desk, you looked at Eddie and smiled. 

He was so excited when you started walking towards him instead of the door he had to remind himself to breathe. By the time you got to him, his heart was hammering so loudly in his ears he stupidly worried he wouldn’t be able to hear what you were saying to him. 

“I can feel you staring, you know.” You said, trying but very clearly failing to suppress a smile. 

“Sorry, Sweetheart,” Eddie replied, more sheepishly than he intended, rubbing the back of his neck, hoping against hope that it would keep the blush he felt creeping up at bay. “Subtly isn’t my strong suit.” 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you mused, playfully pushing his shoulder. 

“It’s a hard burden to bear, but someone’s gotta do it,” he said, as his face heated up like a goddamn furnace. He was red as the devil, and he knew it. 

“Shut up,” you laughed, then looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Want to skip second period? We can smoke in the woods, I’ll buy.” 

Eddie gently grabbed both sides of your face, looked you deeply in the eyes as his heart settled in his throat, and earnestly said, “If I EVER say no to that, I’m going to need you to kill me. Because I’ve obviously been replaced by a doppelgänger, and the real me is long dead and turning in his grave.”

[yuwuta]

Wow I have been nonstop thinking about tennis king yuuta and his little baby boy I’m going to kill you (affectionate) - @yuutito

teeheeeeeeeee….. here’s some more, aleks :’) enjoy :))))))

“Everybody thinks he looks like me, but I don’t see it that way. Maybe it’s because every time I look at him, I see my wife and I’m reminded of her […] I’m a little biased so I see her in everything.” 

You find yourself with tears welling in your eyes the more you read into Yuuta’s latest magazine interview. Between his sweet quotes and the pictures of him with your son, it’s taking everything in you not to burst into full-blown tears. 

Your boys look so handsome. You and Yuuta shared your concerns with publicizing your child at such a young age, but you two came to the conclusion that you’d rather have the control in the narrative than to let private family pictures be leaked uncontrollably. As another point of reassurance, Yuuta’s career provided him with just enough lime-light to be a household name without the crazy fame and criticism that came along being a true celebrity. Besides—Yuuta talked enough about you and your son in press conferences and interviews that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. 

The article wasn’t entirely about you, or your family—or at least, you’re sure it wasn’t intended to be; you knew your husband had a knack for rambling about his loved ones, even where work was concerned. As you continue to read, you find a segment where the author compared Yuuta’s current statements with something similar he’d said about you twelve years ago—at the very start of his professional career: “If I owe this [winning Gold] to anybody, it’s my girlfriend. She’s always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. I wouldn’t have qualified or even thought to qualify if it weren’t for her.” 

It feels like you and Yuuta were just two kids in love back then. You didn’t think it could be more than that—you didn’t think you could love Yuuta more than you did all those years ago, but somewhere along the way just being in love wasn’t enough to describe it; Yuuta became your partner, someone you loved fundamentally, but also because you couldn’t stand to see yourself without him. And just when you thought you couldn’t love anyone nearly as much as you love him, you turn the page to a picture of your husband and son peeping through the holes of a racket and your heart feels full. 

When you scan the image more closely, you realize that it isn’t just any racket—it’s an old one, one you’d given to Yuuta as a gift probably back in high-school. You had no idea he’d kept it, but you suppose you shouldn’t be all that surprised; Yuuta is nothing if not sentimental. 

“Ah, there she is~” Yuuta’s voice cuts through your thoughts. When you turn, you see him, with your baby boy on his hip, sliding the back porch door closed. 

Both boys approach you with a smile on your face, and you set the magazine aside to sit up in the lounge chair to greet them. Yuuta presses a kiss to your forehead, then your lips before you do the same to your son. Immediately after, he reaches his arms out for you, and Yuuta chuckles, “You wanna be with your mama? Can’t blame you, I missed her, too.” 

He hands the baby off to you, and takes a seat on the other end of the chair, reaching over to coo at his son as you smother his face in kisses. 

“How was the farmer’s market?” you question, letting the baby settle into your lap. 

“Good, he picked out some very bright peppers, and we got some more strawberries, know you’ve been craving them,” Yuuta smiles, reaching over to pat your son’s head, when the closed magazine catches his eye, and he reaches for it, quickly flipping through, “Ah—I guess that interview’s out. He’s grown so much, even though it was only a few months ago.” 

You find the blush on his cheeks beyond endearing. Yuuta always finds room to be bashful no matter how many times he’s waxed poetic about his love for you, or his family—his cheeks always stain pink like the first day you met him. 

“It’s sweet. You’re sweet,” you smile, sparing a hand to run through Yuuta’s hair, charmed by the way he leans into your touch, “I didn’t know you still had that racket.” 

“Of course, I keep everything you give me,” he says, earnestly. He closes the magazine and scoots a little closer, taking advantage of the proximity and of your touch to lay his head on your shoulder, “Did you… read all of it?” 

“Almost, but no, why?” you question, with a light-hearted grin, “Did you say something that would lead the world to believe you’re somehow even more in love with me? Because you might already be past the threshold, dear.” 

Yuuta hums. He reaches to take you son out of your lap and carefully shifts himself to that he’s laying down, his head on your lap, and the baby in his arms, happily giggling and cooing as Yuuta holds him up. He lowers and raises him back and forth a few times, nuzzling their noses together when their faces are close, before sitting him up on his chest.

Then he tilts his head up to look at you, wide, love-filled eyes blinking slowly before he says, “Maybe… depends on if me saying I want more kids is past the threshold or not.” 

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 43

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 8k

TW: Violence

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Wednesday, February 3rd; 7:30 PM - Cafeteria

What a strange day I’ve just had. I expected it to be the worst day of my life, but in the end, it wasn’t so bad. It was even better than yesterday. It seems like starting the day in Lucy’s arms was what I needed to regain my energy. To think I had promised myself to stay away from her so I wouldn’t suffer from my feelings... However, last night was a necessity for my mental well-being after what happened with Korbin. I wouldn’t have slept without her. I wouldn’t have passed my economics and management exams without her help either. I have to admit it: she saved my skin again, and all in just one evening. Her study sessions are more effective than Alessia’s, even though I wish that wasn’t the case. I enjoyed studying with Alessia. It had become our thing, but it was also nice to reconnect with Lucy.

Today, since our interaction, was the first day we had a conversation. I thanked her this morning for letting me sleep with her when she didn’t have to. To my surprise, she didn’t even ask for reasons, even though I’m sure she was itching to know. She noticed my state yesterday, and I’m sure she had questions. Maybe she’s sticking to her promise not to interfere in my life anymore. Either way, whatever the reasons, I’m grateful to her. I wouldn’t have been able to give her the answers she was looking for.

On top of that, she seemed different. She was kinder. It was as if yesterday had given her hope that I’d talk to her again. Maybe she has reasons to believe so... I mean, I realized that ignoring her wasn’t the best idea, even if it was necessary to stop resenting her as much. Talking to her again after this break reminded me why I like her, and even if she doesn’t offer the kind of relationship I want, I’ve missed having her around.

Aside from that, my day was rather peaceful, against all expectations. My tormentors decided to leave me alone today. At least, that was the case until now. I’m caught off guard when Korbin sits next to me while I’m quietly talking with my friends. I have to admit she has even more guts than I thought. Her friends aren’t as bold as she is. Her threats scared me so much that I made sure to stay with people all day. That seemed to have kept her friends at bay, but that doesn’t seem to be the case for Korbin right now. She dares to come to me even though I’m surrounded by my friends.

“So, Batlle, avoiding me today?”

“Not at all.”

I’m a terrible liar. It’s true that except for class, we haven’t seen each other. It’s not like I’m going to follow her around either.

“My threats yesterday worked, huh?”

“Shut up, will you.”

I would’ve liked to glare at her, but I barely managed to get that little phrase out. A million shivers run through my body just remembering the position I found myself in under her hands. No one around me knows what happened, so now isn’t the time for them to find out.

“Don’t get all high and mighty with me, little bitch.”

��Seriously, who do you think you are, Korbin? Leave her alone, or I’ll go get Bronze!” Alexia threatens.

“Oh no, you won’t. Right, Ona?”

I grit my teeth in response to Alexia’s pleading eyes. No, she’s right. I can’t do that if I want to avoid something worse than yesterday. I see curiosity in my roommate’s eyes, but I stay silent. I have to keep my cool. Lucy promised me yesterday that she would handle Korbin and then stop interfering in my life. According to her, this is too serious a matter for her to ignore. She also advised me not to fall into their provocations. It’s best to keep a clean image in front of Wiegman if it comes to that. Korbin laughs and pats my head as if I were a dog. My jaw tightens, and I close my eyes. Just a little more patience.

“You catch on quickly, it seems.”

“Shut up.”

“Is that all you can say?” she smiles.

“What do you want from me, seriously?” I snap. “I didn’t even know you before we were in the same class!”

“Oh, is the little one getting angry? I’m just taking away the advantages you’ve been given, bitch.”

“Enough,” Alba says, banging on the table. “Get away from our table.”

“Definitely not. Don’t interfere! This is between the princess and me.”

“Let’s settle this now, then.”

“Oh really? Is that what you want?” she asks me.

“Yeah, it’s what I want.”

“Ona...” Ale warns me.

“No, this situation is getting ridiculous. Tell me what you have against me or what you want me to do so we can be done with it. I’ll do it if it means you’ll leave me alone.”

“Stay away from Bronze.”

Her answer surprises me so much that I’m at a loss for words. So there is a connection to Lucy, just as I suspected. Her request makes me laugh, given its absurdity and our situation. I haven’t been more distant from Lucy than I have in recent weeks.

“What’s so funny?”

“She’s my supervisor, you idiot! If anyone needs to be told to stay away, it’s not me. It’s not like I’m chasing after her!”

Okay, that’s not entirely true, but Korbin doesn’t know that. Since yesterday’s incident, I’ve decided to work on our friendship again. Alexia was right when she said I was being ridiculous by ignoring her like that. However, this distance has allowed me to be less angry at her. It was a necessary evil.

“As if I’d believe you! You managed to break through her impassable wall. What’s your secret? Are you sleeping with her?”

“Excuse me?” I ask, stunned. “Are you out of your mind? What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re a lesbian; there’s definitely a connection.”

“Go to hell!”

“Everyone’s noticed how close you are,” she continues to push. “What’s your secret? Are you hitting on her? Is she in your bed?” she insists.

How can she even think that? It’s not like we’re holding hands in the hallways. Lucy has always behaved professionally here. She even tends to reprimand me when I get too friendly.

“You’re delusional. Don’t you have anything better to do than make up such ridiculous assumptions?”

“Oh! The little daddy’s princess can stand up for herself after all.”

“You... You know nothing about my life,” I spit.

“Oh... Did I hit a nerve?” she asks in a sickly sweet voice. “Does your precious daddy know you’re a slut? Oops... Anyway, he can’t be too proud of you if you’re here.”

Rage overtakes me to the point where my knuckles turn white as I clench my fists. I’ve always been reactive when someone mentions my father. Lucy made me promise to stay calm in front of Korbin, but I won’t be able to keep that promise if she keeps going like this. I close my eyes, searching for an idea that could make her react as strongly as I am. I open my eyes when the truth dawns on me.

“You’re jealous of my relationship with Bronze...” I murmur.

Her eyebrows furrow. I’m almost certain this is the reason for her behavior toward me. Her reaction intrigues me. According to my sources, she was Lucy’s student before I was. I continue with much more confidence.

“It must really bother you that the new girl who came in the middle of the year got all of Bronze’s attention at your expense. Still, it’s understandable that you’re jealous if you have a thing for her. It looks like she’s had time to figure out who she prefers to focus on.”

I smile, seeing the effect my words have on her. It seems I’ve hit a nerve too. I was expecting any verbal retort, but definitely not the punch she lands on my face. The blow is so strong that I fall off my chair. I don’t even have time to get up before she jumps on me. The shock is so intense that I can’t block her next blows, which she delivers between my face and stomach. My rage was nothing compared to hers, which she’s now unleashing on me. She doesn’t give me a moment to retaliate or push her away. I wouldn’t have been able to do it anyway. Many memories flash through my mind as if I’m reliving them. In a way, I am. Everything happens so quickly, yet it feels like time has stopped. I’m in another world. I can barely hear my friends shouting or see the circle of students forming around us. When my survival instinct finally kicks in, and my body starts moving, I realize I have no chance of escaping. The only thing I feel is her weight on me and her limbs pinning mine. But her weight suddenly disappears, and the scene unfolding in front of me petrifies me. Korbin reacts like a madwoman, fresh out of a psychiatric ward, in Bright’s strong arms. It’s like she really wanted to kill me. Someone places a hand on my shoulder the next second, but my first instinct is to shake them off violently. No one should touch me. Not now. I crawl backward to get as far away as possible from my attacker and the person I realize is White.

“Ona, get back here right now!” she scolds.

She tries to touch me again but my fear and anxiety take over, and I involuntarily stop her in a violent way. I’m lost. All I know is that I need to leave this place. I was about to get up, but a presence behind me discourages me. I was about to pull away again, but arms anticipating me wrap around me and hold me tightly against a chest.

“Shh, calm down,” she whispers to me. “It’s just me, Lucy. Calm down, I’m here now.”

My trembling, which had been constant until now, stops instantly. It’s Lucy. She’s here, holding me close. Her grip tightens even more, as if to confirm her reassuring words. My labored breathing worsens as a sob escapes me. She was finally here.

“I’m so sorry…” she murmurs. “I wasn’t here anymore, or I would’ve intervened sooner. She won’t touch you again. I promise.”

In my state of shock and with my throat tight, all I can do is nod. We stay like that for a while, with her rocking me to calm me, until Ingrid crouches in front of me. Her presence makes me retreat toward Lucy. I turn my head against Lucy’s chest, whimpering as Ingrid reaches out a hand. I still don’t want anyone to touch me.

“Let it be. I’ll take care of her,” Lucy says to her. “You deal with the other one. Get her out of here as quickly as possible.”

“Alright,” Ingrid sighs. “I hope everything will be okay with you.”

I can hear her footsteps as she leaves. Right after, Lucy gently forces me to lift my head to assess my face for the first time.

“It doesn’t look good,” she grimaces. “Can you stand up?”

I nod softly. She stands up first and then helps me by lifting me under my arms. I whimper in pain. The cafeteria has become a real mess. Teachers and instructors are trying to get overly curious students to sit down again, while others are dealing with Korbin, who is still struggling. Lucy guides me toward the exit, keeping her arm around my waist to support me. I keep my head down as we walk outside, only raising it when she takes out her keyring. I realize then that we’re in front of the classroom building. The hall lights turn on automatically as we pass through. Without a word, we continue, the only sound being our footsteps echoing in the corridor. We stop in front of a door labeled “Infirmary” on a sign. She also opens this door with a key before letting me enter first. It’s the first time I’ve been here. I wasn’t even aware that there was an infirmary in this building. I walk blindly in the dark room until Lucy switches on the light. I feel ridiculous when she sees me with my hands outstretched, searching for my way. She smiles but says nothing.

“Sit down on the bed.”

Instead of listening, I remain in place as she moves toward the cabinet with the medical tools.

“Ona?” she calls out when she sees that I’m not moving.

“N-no.”

“I need to examine you.”

I back up until I hit the wall as she approaches me. I shake my head and close my eyes. It’s beyond my strength to let her examine me.

“D-don’t touch me… Please.”

Her eyes express sadness at my rejection. I want to tell her it’s not against her, but nothing else comes out of my mouth. The survival instinct hasn’t left. My body and mind reject all contact, whether I want it or not. I hold my arms tightly against myself and avoid her gaze.

“Has anyone hurt you before, Ona…?”

I quickly lift my head to observe her in fear. Her voice was full of doubt, and seeing her now, she must be dreading my answer. I’m dreading it too. Am I ready to talk to her about it now? After everything we’ve been through these past weeks? No. Of course not. I would have preferred to disappear through a trapdoor rather than face this conversation. It’s just impossible for me to talk about this, even if it’s Lucy.

“You know, I never stopped trying to find out what was eating at you so much—”

“Please…” I interrupt her with a trembling voice. “Don’t insist.”

“Answer me…” she continues. “I need to know. Has anyone ever raised a hand against you?”

My fearful gestures betray me as she takes another step forward. How could she understand without me telling her? No one had ever discovered it before. My tears surface again. When I meet her eyes, I know she has won, and I won’t be able to hold back any longer.

“Don’t make me say it…” I admit in half-words.

I’ve never seen Lucy look at me with so much sadness as she does now. She, who had always managed to keep her pity for me in check, has just lost her last barriers. She takes one step closer, then another. She gives me time to push her away, but I no longer have the strength. Not after admitting my worst secret to her.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore. Do you hear me?” she murmurs as she cautiously places her hands on my shoulders.

I shake my head, fighting mentally against myself. This experience has left me so fearful and lacking in confidence.

“I-I��� It was so hard, Luce.”

I can’t even say what I’m talking about. So many things have been hard. My past, my return to life, my beginnings here, these new obstacles, but also our distance. I’ve reached my limit. All I need right now are her arms. That’s why I close the last small gap between us without thinking any longer. It didn’t take long for me to collapse into her arms without restraint and without feeling any shame.

“I-I’m sorry,” I say in a broken voice. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done.”

“Shh, it’s over,” she says, stroking my hair. “You have nothing to blame yourself for… Feli, Korbin, and no one else will reach you anymore. I promise you.”

She kisses my forehead while holding me tightly when she feels me clinging to her. No one had yet discovered what I was hiding. I was ashamed and fearful of what Feli had put me through during our year-long journey. The fact that she said it out loud shocked me. I didn’t expect her to figure it out on her own, even though the fight with Korbin gave her a clue. The images of Feli losing it because of her past and the drugs haunt my mind all the time, every night, without me being able to get rid of them. My brain keeps reminding me of them over and over. I was her girlfriend, but more importantly, I was the person she took her anger out on. I couldn’t do anything to change her, even though I tried relentlessly. I was just there to endure her moods. When Lucy notices that I’ve calmed down a bit, she guides me to the medical bed in the middle of the room. I manage to sit down with her help. I can’t face her now that she knows all my secrets. My fingers nervously play together.

“Look at me, please.”

Her voice is just a whisper. I feel so small in front of her. When I meet her eyes, I realize how close we are. She managed to slip between my legs without me noticing. I take a moment to admire the beauty of her face that I’ve missed so much, lingering on her lips that I’ve never desired as much as I do now. I hadn’t felt this urge since Feli. My stomach is churning just imagining what I might feel. Actually, no. My stomach is churning because I just leaned in close enough to brush against her lips. I quickly pull back, realizing the situation. Lucy, however, hasn’t moved an inch. She was looking at me intensely.

“I-I shouldn’t have,” I stammer in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, really, I didn’t mea—”

“Shh, just be quiet,” she interrupts, letting her fingers run through my hair.

Her fingers stop at my neck, gripping it delicately, taking my breath away. What was she doing? The answer comes quickly as she continues to watch me while moving closer. I close my eyes when I feel her warm lips press against mine. This sensation is nothing like the one I just felt. It’s much more powerful. It took me a moment to react, to understand what was really happening. Once I gathered myself, I responded eagerly to this sweet kiss, tinged with a metallic taste. Out of breath, she slowly pulls back to cradle my face. Her eyes observe the corner of my mouth where her finger lightly caresses a spot where I discover there’s a cut.

“Did I hurt you?” she murmurs.

Her question catches me off guard, given the situation. She seemed very serious, though. I chuckle, gently pulling on her jacket to bring her closer to me.

“I’m serious,” she frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, idiot…”

I feel much better. Well… if you can call it that. She smiles when I dare to put my arms around her neck. I needed to feel her against me. I missed her. As if she understood the message, she presses herself against me, but she loses her smile.

“Ona…” she begins, far too seriously. “I’m sorry. I should never have pushed you away…”

“Don’t leave me again,” I simply murmur.

No matter the reasons she had for pushing me away, all I want now is for her to stay. She pulls back just enough for me to lose contact with her body, making me groan in frustration.

- "No," I say, holding onto her. "Come back."

She hesitates for a moment before returning. Actions speak so much louder than words. I smile shyly before kissing her again. She stays, responding perfectly to this new kiss, even softer and more tender than the last. My wounds may hurt, but I wouldn’t pull away for anything in the world. Instead, I cling desperately to her sweater, fearing that this might just be a dream or that she might pull away again. Lucy takes the initiative, gently cupping my cheek with her hand. We barely take a breath before diving back into another kiss, this one even more intense and charged with emotion. It was rough, intense, as if it was the most anticipated thing we’d both been waiting for. Our bubble bursts when a whimper of pain escapes me and Lucy pulls away. I quickly understand her intention to check on me, but I don’t give her the chance. I’d rather hold her tightly, burying my head in her neck. My message seems understood because she doesn’t push me away. She just lets out a small sigh and rests her chin on my head.

- "Don’t leave me again," I repeat like a desperate plea.

- "I promise, Princess. I won’t leave again."

She wraps her arms around me to accompany her words. She gives me back the breath of air I’d lost. I missed everything about her—her arms, her hair, her scent... Alexia, Mapi, and everyone who knew were right. I should never have stayed away. I should have convinced her to change her mind much sooner. I feel lost without her. She slowly pulls away, making me react immediately.

- "Hey, I just said I wouldn’t leave again," she giggles. "I just want to examine you and take care of your injuries before they get worse. You’re starting to get quite a shiner," she says, stroking my cheek.

- "I must look awful," I mumble.

- "You’ll always be cute in my eyes."

I blush at her compliment. She kisses my forehead before turning to the shelves. I miss her presence immediately, even though she’s right in front of me, rummaging through the cupboards. It gives me a perfect view of her back and her perfectly sculpted figure. I’m still struggling to process what just happened. My fingers unconsciously trace my lips, where I still feel her presence.

- "Don’t touch."

I jump in surprise when I see her giving me a stern look.

- "Sorry."

- "Hmm. I prefer that."

She returns to what she was doing, satisfied that I’m following her order.

- "What’s going to happen to Korbin because of all this...?" I ask.

- "I’ll make sure she’s expelled."

- "Expelled?!" I repeat, shocked.

- "It’s what she deserves. If I can’t manage that, I’ll make sure she never comes near you again."

- "And what about me...?" I ask, fearfully.

- "You didn’t do anything. You didn’t even touch her, so you’re not at risk of expulsion. Wiegman knows all the efforts you’ve made from the beginning and what you’ve been through these past two weeks. I told her about it this morning."

So she went to see her. She told me she would take action, and given the situation, I’m relieved she did.

- "Who told you? Alexia?"

- "Alexia?" she giggles. "No. But I realized she knew something when I saw her yesterday. She was nervous and wanted me to find you as soon as possible."

- "Then who told you...?"

- "Your management professor. He came to talk to me because he was worried about you and what was happening in class."

- "Oh... Really?" I ask, surprised.

- "Hmm. It must have been an excuse to come and talk to me... I used him to find out what I wanted to know about you, since you weren’t talking to me."

I bite my lip. I guess I was right to be suspicious of my professor. I had noticed how he looked at her... I wasn’t so crazy after all.

- "Men still don’t interest me, Ona."

I find her leaning against the furniture, raising an eyebrow. My teeth immediately release my lip, and I blush at being caught red-handed. I know she’s not interested, but I can’t help it. I’m bi, and that man is far from unattractive. Lucy comes back to start examining my face. I whimper and clutch the bed sheets as she begins to treat me. It’s very painful, even though her touch is gentle.

- "Korbin... She... Well, she was jealous of our relationship," I admit.

- "Really?" she asks, without taking her eyes off what she’s doing.

- "She thought we were together or sleeping together... I don’t really know. Do you think... She’d be capable of telling Wiegman to defend herself?"

She gently caresses my cheek, smiling at me.

- "You don’t need to worry. Korbin is far from having a perfect record. And Wiegman trusts me. She wouldn’t have allowed me to have you in my room twice if that weren’t the case."

- "You rejected me... I have a right to be worried."

- "I was just an idiot."

- "For once, you admit it..."

- "Hey, that’s enough," she smiles.

As if to silence me, she places an ice pack on my left cheek, making me groan from the unexpected pain.

- "Hold this, please. I’m not done."

I hold it in place as she turns her back to me again. I haven’t had the chance to see myself, but I must not look great. Sometimes I wonder how I lived without Lucy. She’s everything to me. I watch her for a moment before sighing.

- "Where do we stand now...?" I ask softly, biting my lip again.

- "Well..." she starts, then frowns when she sees me. "Stop biting your lip," she scolds me. "This is the third time you’ve done it, and it’s already split. You don’t need to make it worse!"

I immediately release the grip of my teeth. She sighs, quickly applying a compress to my lip. It stings from the antiseptic, confirming that it’s indeed already split open. She keeps pressing it for a moment, occasionally checking it before looking back into my eyes. Hers are so intense...

- "I know I made a mistake, Ona... It was probably the most cowardly and ridiculous choice I’ve ever made, but... But know that I’m ready to consider you as my girlfriend if you can give me a second chance after what I did to you..."

Her response catches me off guard. I expected some cliché lines like "we should take our time" or "I’m not ready for an official relationship." I must forget that this is Lucy Bronze in front of me. She’s not a coward, even after this incident, and she’s ready to prove it by agreeing to move forward.

- "But before that..." she interrupts my thoughts. "You need to know why I pushed you away the first time."

- "Luce... You don’t have to..."

- "Yes, I do. I want us to start on a healthy foundation, and for that, we need to talk."

- "Alright..." I resign.

In reality, I don’t know if I’m ready to hear what she has to say. Who knows what her reasons for rejection might be, but she’s right. If we want this to work, we need to be honest with each other from the beginning.

- "I was afraid I wouldn’t be enough," she says, dropping it like a bomb and catching me off guard.

- "Wh-"

- "Let me finish," she interrupts me, and I stop immediately. "Before meeting Kiera and coming here to Manchester, I was far from being the confident girl I am now. I was actually quite the opposite. You see, I was like that nerdy girl with glasses who hides behind her hair..."

- "I don’t believe you," I interrupt.

"But it’s true," she giggles, shaking her head. "Kiera transformed me. She made me realize the potential I had and brought out a confidence in me that I didn’t know existed. I loved her. No matter how stupid she could be for doing drugs, I really loved her for the way she made me feel wonderful in her eyes. Losing her shook me deeply. »

“No wonder…” I murmur, gently caressing her.

Even though I don’t understand why she’s bringing up Kiera now, I know these revelations are very personal for her. I owe it to her to listen carefully. She takes a deep breath before continuing.

“Working here right after she died, handling difficult cases like hers, really strengthened me mentally. It was enriching and very… healing. Helping others who were struggling became important to me.”

I nod. That makes sense. I can’t even imagine how she must have felt after losing her. She must have blamed herself a lot. If I were in her shoes, I would have too, thinking I could have done so much more to save her.

“Wiegman knew about Kiera. I specifically asked her never to let me personally handle a student with a history of drug abuse, for fear of becoming too emotionally involved.”

“How did it—”

“You were the first,” she interrupts. “You were the first one I had to take care of, and I was really surprised when I found out.”

“I remember you were… You were really upset when I came back in withdrawal, and now I understand why. But Wiegman knew.”

“I know. I got mad at her about it. She apologized and explained that she really wanted me to be the one to take care of you. She thought I’d never find out, since you weren’t supposed to relapse.”

“Why did you keep me under your care then?”

“Because I didn’t want to upset you by handing you over to Ingrid. She never would have known how to manage you like I did, and to be honest, I was already very attached to you. I didn’t want to abandon you.”

My stomach warms at this revelation. My first relapse was months ago.

“It was a risk, but I knew we were already connected, and I couldn’t bear to leave you. You were starting to trust me, and you kept progressing, clinging to our relationship. I took ten steps back at that moment because I kept comparing you to Kiera at first. I was afraid you’d be like her, that you’d relapse at the first opportunity. But I quickly realized that wasn’t the case.”

I was about to respond, but her last words stop me.

“You were struggling, but you wanted to fight. That wasn’t the case with Kiera. You never stopped holding on to me like a lifeline to pull you out of it. Your determination awakened something in me, and it’s what made our relationship so powerful.”

Lucy’s eyes shine slightly now. I never realized how complicated our relationship must have been for her. I have so many traits similar to the one person who ignited the flame inside her. How could I have competed with her if she were still around?

“You see me the way she did, Ona. You think I’m this strong and perfect person, but what you don’t understand is that it’s you who makes me that way…”

Her words throw me off balance. Maybe I could have competed with her after all. The way she phrases it, she puts me on equal footing with Kiera…

“Our relationship intensified so much in the past few weeks. We opened up to each other, and it brought us even closer, more intimately. I noticed you were seeking more affection, but I didn’t expect you to want something more after everything you’d been through. I-I just panicked. I was scared. Scared I wouldn’t be enough, scared I’d ruin everything once you discovered who I really am, scared I wouldn’t be able to satisfy you. I mean, I’ve come out of my shell more thanks to Kiera, but that wasn’t always the case. We’re so different and—”

“Hey, that’s enough,” I murmur, grabbing her face. “Calm down, okay? Breathe.”

She’s been talking so fast that she hasn’t even taken a breath. We lock eyes, and now that I can, I see the fear in them. It’s like she’s expecting me to back out now that she’s laid everything bare. I smile gently, brushing her cheeks with my thumbs before speaking again.

“If there’s one thing I love, it’s our differences, Lucy. From the beginning, you made it clear that you hate parties, and I never held that against you. I’ve even cut back on my own outings since you showed me your world.”

“I don’t want to change you,” she whispers.

“You’re not changing me, Luce. You’re making me better. You’re so caring with me that I want to be better for you, to prove that I deserve your attention. And if my way of being with you makes you feel strong, then our relationship is even more special than I imagined because we’re helping each other.”

“You’re mad at me for keeping quiet, aren’t you? I wanted to make things right, you know, but when you told me I’d abandoned you the other day, I just felt like I’d ruined everything. I hadn’t felt that miserable in a long time. I thought I’d lost your trust.”

I take a deep breath, realizing the misunderstanding that arose between us from a few simple words. I was harsh that day, but I had so much on my mind. I realize now how much easier things could have been.

“That’s not the case,” I murmur. “I wouldn’t be sitting here with you otherwise. I-I was disappointed and really angry, sure, but I definitely haven’t lost trust in you. I-I don’t think I ever could unless you did something truly unforgivable. I know you’re not perfect, and you’re allowed to doubt or make mistakes, just like everyone else.”

She sighs with relief. Still, her eyes reflect fear mixed with some fresh tears.

“You know, I talk a lot about Kiera because she was such a big part of my life, but she never made me feel as much as you do. I feel good by your side, and you make me so much more jealous and protective.”

“I’ve never been very jealous before you either,” I chuckle. “I got jealous when my management professor looked at you a little too much.”

“What?” she says, eyes wide with surprise. “You should have known that—”

“I know, it’s just that, I also thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I felt like you could be interested in anyone but me.”

“Oh, Ona…” she murmurs. “You really underestimate yourself.”

“So do you… I’m not afraid you’ll make a mistake one day or that you won’t put enough effort in, you know… You already do so much for me.”

Her eyes soften. She’s such a strong woman. If I were in her shoes, I’d have broken down in tears by now. She must have gone through terrible things to be able to hold back in a moment like this. Or maybe I’m just that weak.

“It seems we’re just two broken people who were afraid to rebuild together…”

“You have no idea how true that is… I was so terrified when I realized I had feelings for you… I-I was so scared you’d reject me. And also, I was always so intimidated by you.”

“Ona,” she chuckles.

“What? It’s true! You don’t even realize the presence you have. But at the same time, you always had this little something that helped me feel better… You managed to open me up like no one else ever could, Luce… If my friends hadn’t been there to open my eyes, I would have never realized that I had feelings for you. I was in denial, but now I know that this is just the beginning and that they’ll only grow because y-you’re essential to me, Lucy… And the thought that I might have ruined our relationship was unbearable and—”

“Shh, stop,” she interrupts before I break down. “You didn’t ruin anything, you hear me? It was me, but it’s over now. Isn’t it?”

I nod, trying to return the smile she gives me. It doesn’t last long, though, as I feel the pain contorting my face. Lucy laughs, understanding my discomfort. She kisses my forehead again, a spontaneous gesture that sends little butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

“Sorry to interrupt this confession moment, but I think I need to keep treating my girlfriend before she starts screaming in pain.”

“Oh my God. I think I could get used to that new title…”

“Don’t get too used to it just yet. You’ll still be my student here,” she says, playfully tapping my nose. “Now, put the ice pack back. Your cheek is swelling up again.”

I follow her instructions without protest. The atmosphere has changed. It’s much warmer and more relaxed now that we’ve finally been able to get everything off our chests.

“I’m just going to take care of your brow, and then we should be good,” she tells me. “Did she hit you anywhere else?”

She asks as she turns back to search for more bandages. I press gently on my stomach to see if it’s as painful as my face and grimace as I realize it is. She had already attacked me here yesterday, so I should have known it would hurt.

- "In my stomach," I admitted when she came back to me. "But I can take care of it myself."

- "No, I want to do it if you'll let me."

- "Okay," I murmured.

- "You'll take another painkiller and lie down so I can apply some cream."

She finished with my brow before discarding all the bloodied compresses she had used. It made me realize just how bruised I must look. At that moment, someone knocked on the door and entered without waiting for permission. I expected to see Ingrid or another instructor, but instead, I saw Wiegman. I was relieved that Lucy wasn’t standing next to me at that moment. She had a strange expression on her face when she saw me. I'm sure Lucy is trying to downplay how bad it looks.

- "I heard what happened," she began. "How are you feeling, Ona?"

- "Like someone who just got beaten up," I joked. "But I'm okay, I'm being well taken care of."

- "I can see that," she smiled.

Just then, Lucy returned with a glass of water and the pill she had promised. I swallowed it under their watchful eyes.

- "Thank you for taking care of her," Wiegman said to Lucy.

- "It's my job," she replied.

- "I came to see how you were doing, but also to ask you to come to my office tomorrow morning at 8:30," she informed me.

- "Am I in trouble...?"

- "It's just the protocol we have to follow," he clarified. "Will you accompany her?" she asked Lucy. "I'd also like you to be present."

- "No problem, I'll go with her."

- "Good, I'll leave you now since you're in good hands."

- "There are better hands, but I'll manage," I joked.

Wiegman laughed, but Lucy didn't find it as amusing.She wished us a good night before leaving. Lucy stared at the door as if to make sure she was really gone before she playfully swatted my arm.

- "Ouch! Hitting an injured person, really?"

- "There are better hands, really?" she scolded me, pretending to be upset.

- "What? I had to joke about it," I laughed. "My only defense mechanism is humor!"

- "I should just let you fend for yourself then," she pouted.

- "Oh Luce," I giggled.

I always thought I was the more sensitive one between us, but here I was discovering a new side of Lucy. I took advantage of the fact that she had her back turned to step off the bed and hug her from behind. I rested my head on her shoulder to see what she was doing.

- "I don't want to do this alone," I whispered. "I couldn't have asked for a better personal nurse..."

- "Hmm... I just wanted to hear you say it."

I chuckled and kissed her cheek. She turned around when she finally found the cream she was looking for.

- "Lie down on the bed and lift your shirt so I can take care of your stomach."

- "Can I get a kiss to prove I'm forgiven first?" I bargained.

- "You'll get one if you behave," she raised an eyebrow.

- "Blackmail."

- "Deal."

- "Alright, if you say so..."

Knowing I wouldn't get anything until I did, I lay back down on the bed. She lifted my shirt herself up to my chest. I winced when I saw the bruises already forming on my stomach, adding to the ones from yesterday. Lucy sighed audibly.

- "She really didn't hold back."

- "I couldn’t defend myself," I admitted timidly.

- "Hey, it's understandable after what you've been through. It's not such a bad thing; it saved you from more trouble."

I nodded and stared at the ceiling as Lucy began to apply the cream to the bruises. Her expert fingers relaxed me to the point where I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation.

- "Are these marks from Feli?"

I slowly opened my eyes when I felt her fingers touch certain spots on my stomach, where there were small, permanent scars. I knew she had noticed them the day she helped me shower during my withdrawal. She had made a strange face when she saw my body but never commented on it. I wish those scars had left no trace, but they are part of my story now.

- "Yeah..." I admitted.

- "Did she... Did she also abuse you?"

Her question was full of hesitation. My body tensed involuntarily at the thought. I could see the fear in her eyes. I immediately reassured her by shaking my head.

- "No," I said, making her sigh with relief. "Thank God, no. She would have completely destroyed me if she had done something like that... But I think she could have if I had stayed longer. I had stopped sleeping with her, and she was becoming more and more violent towards the end. She didn’t realize what she was doing anymore..."

- "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

- "It’s in the past now."

A silence settled between us before I asked a question of my own.

- "What really made you change your mind about us...?"

- "A lot of things," she murmured. "Your reaction, your obliviousness, my feelings, but also the threats from your best friend," she laughed.

- "You two texted?" I asked, surprised.

- "A little," she admitted, making me smile at the thought.

- "Remind me to thank her then... I haven't really had the chance to talk to her these past few days, and the last things I said to her weren’t exactly nice. She must be mad at me."

- "She knows it’s my fault you didn’t write to her. As for your bad behavior, I don't think she'll hold it against you. She cares about you a lot, and I can see why you care so much about her too."

Lucy is wrong about one thing. Mapi won’t hold it against me, but she’ll definitely get her revenge. I'll have to make it up to her to avoid that. I sat up and adjusted my sweater when Lucy told me she was done. I handed back the ice pack I’d been holding. Seeing the state I was in, Lucy decided to apply a bit of cream to my cheek as well. The contrast between her warm fingers and the painful cold of my cheek was sharp. She gently spread the cream over the affected areas, then closed the tube. She washed her hands and put away the last things she had taken out to treat me.

- "Do you think I'll get my weekend pass?"

- "We'll see tomorrow. Let's go back to our room; it's getting late."

She grabbed a box of bandages and kept the cream before turning off all the lights. The cold hit me full force when we stepped outside. I realized then that we didn’t have our jackets.

- "Damn... Our stuff."

- "Ingrid took care of it. She texted me to say she brought it to my room. Come on, hurry up. It's cold!"

I hurried as fast as I could, agreeing with her. It was cold, and I didn’t want to risk getting sick again. I'd had enough of that! We crossed the campus to reach her dorm on the opposite side. The first thing I did upon entering her room was check the time. It was nine o'clock. Lucy, on the other hand, preferred to kick off her shoes and sprawl out on her big bed.

- "I'm going to take a shower."

- "No," she groaned. "Do it tomorrow morning, or the cream I just put on will be useless."

"Fine... I'll just change, then. »

She groaned in response. I chuckled and locked myself in the bathroom with my nightclothes. I was about to take off my shirt when I caught sight of my face in the mirror. My mouth fell open as I realized the extent of the damage. A black eye was forming on my left eye, and my eyebrow was completely busted. Not to mention my lip, which had also taken a hit. I rushed out of the bathroom, pointing at my face. My sudden entrance made Lucy turn around, unconcerned that she was only wearing her bra. I would have certainly enjoyed the sight if I hadn't come out to complain.

- "There is no way I'm going out like this in the next few days!" I exclaimed.

- "You don't have a choice," she teased.

She turned her back to me and continued getting dressed without being bothered by my presence. She came back towards me once she had her pajama tank top on.

- "Seriously," I groaned. "Have you seen my face?"

- "Mm-hmm," she replied with amusement. "It's not like these are permanent. You'll be fine in a few days."

- "Ugh. I hate her," I grumbled before retreating back to the bathroom.

I slammed the door, and Lucy's laughter followed. I quickly changed, and then Lucy joined me so we could remove our makeup and brush our teeth.

- "Wait, I want to put a bandage on your eyebrow. I’m worried it might start bleeding again because of the cut."

- "Do what you have to do," I mumbled.

- "Don’t be like that," she giggled.

- "I didn't expect this much damage," I sighed.

- "That’s what happens when you play the rebel."

- "As if it was my fault!"

- "I never said that."

She applied the bandage and then kissed me right after. I blushed at this small, tender gesture.

- "Everything okay?" she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I nodded before wrapping my arms around her waist. Lucy responded to my embrace by draping her arms over my shoulders. We stayed like that for a moment, with her gently rocking me. She kissed my forehead before speaking again.

- "We should get to bed. I can keep cuddling you as much as you want there."

- "It’s strange to think you won’t be holding back with me anymore," I giggled.

- "Oh, I still will, but only when it comes to school."

- "Yeah, right," I teased.

- "I'm not joking," she smiled. "I'll still be your superior here, but I’ll be your girlfriend in private."

I had no doubt she meant every word. It’s crazy to think we still have three months left until the end. We headed to her room, where she invited me into her bed. I didn’t hesitate at all tonight.

- "Will you hold me again?" I asked timidly.

- "Of course. Choose your position first, because I have a feeling tonight might be quite painful."

I sighed just thinking about it. I could already feel the stiffness when I moved. I settled on my side, facing her, and realized that the position was surprisingly comfortable. Understanding that I was ready, she turned off the light. I could feel her breath on my face, we were so close.

- "Come here."

I felt her arms wrap around me. I moved closer to her, making sure to keep my bruises from touching her by placing my arms between us. She pulled the blanket up to my neck and held me a little tighter. I smiled when our feet tangled together, and she kissed my forehead.

- "Goodnight, Luce," I murmured into her neck.

- "Goodnight, Princess."

A contented sigh escaped my lips. My place was definitely in her arms. I would have loved to savor our first moment as a couple a bit longer, but sleep overtook me, lulled by the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat.

[writingroom21]

Okay how about this purge AU

Where reader is a pouge and is not living in a secure house.

Rafe is the one purging like the other kooks but had a soft spot for shy pouge reader and lets her stay in his house and threatens her to have sex with her or else he kills her (I mean he's lying but she believes him so they have sex)

Purged

Warnings: 18+, DUBCON, smut, darkish Rafe. Please be advised that reader only has sex with Rafe in fear of her life.

Wc: 3.2K

A/N: Sorry this took me forever to get out. I was contemplating on how I wanted to go about this because this is a new realm of writing for me. Then I felt like everything I was writing sucked.

You know when you say you wish your life was like a movie? The first time that idea ever occurred to you was when you were a kid watching Disney movies. You’ve always wished to be able to run away from your home life. Escape into a world where you could be anything and have the perfect life.

Growing up as a pogue you found it hard to see how the other half lived. You and your friends were barely getting by and then there were the super rich kids. It also didn’t help when the kook and pogue rivalry started to gear up. It felt as if no matter where you went people would always remind you that you are nothing and no one would care if you disappeared. 

Even Though it was hard you tried to not let it bother you. Taking all the insults they threw at you as if they were nothing. Cleaning up your yard after they trashed it without making a peep. The kooks from your year always seemed bothered by you never making a fuss. The other pogues always put up a fight and then there was you. The only one who never showed any hatred from them and never showed weakness even when they tried. 

You were like some rock that they couldn't move. Which only ended up making you a target for their games. Every Halloween a bunch of kooks would make their way to the cut just to egg your house. One time they even put up edited photos of you all around school making you the laughing stock. To say the least they were not happy when you just kept walking with your head high not acknowledging what they did.

Your only escape was dreaming how different your life could be. Comparing your situation to the ones on your tv screen which only had half a screen. You’ve pictured your life in most movies or sitcoms. But you never imagined it as a horror movie.

Today was a normal day like every other day. You had gotten up and rode your bike all the way to work. Since you work at the country club you always have to deal with all of the kooks. Especially since you work the front desk so you are the first thing they see every time they walk in. Today was no different with the snide remarks.

“Look its the whore from the cut. I’m surprised they haven’t given you a job upgrade after fucking all of them.” Some random guy you think you’ve ever seen comments. You just type away at the computer ignoring his irritating voice. He walks up to the desk and tries to talk to you again. “Come one why don’t we go to the back and you show me how you got this job.”

You slowly look up at him and see Rafe Cameron behind him. You watch as he taps the guy's shoulder and gets even more confused about this whole situation. “Yo buddy why don’t you fuck off.” The guy turns around and backs up a little when he sees Rafe walking towards him. “Why do you care?” Rafe gets in his face ready to punch him if he opens his mouth one more time.

“Because I fucking do. I don’t need to explain myself to you. Now run along before I beat the shit out of you.” They guy looks back at you and then scurries off without another word. “You okay?”You stare at him in shock. “Yeah I’m good.” He just nods his head, knocking on the front desk in front of your computer. “Good.” Then he was off to go play golf like he does every Saturday. 

You don’t understand what just happened. He was a kook and he was defending you. Now that you think about it you never really saw him be rude to you. He never made fun of you and you can’t recall him laughing at your expense. The rest of your shift was a haze. All you could think about is why would he tell that guy off. It’s not like the two of you were friends.

By the time you left work it was on the back burner. The wind was blowing in your hair as you pedal through the streets. The breeze was a nice comparison to the heat from the day. You were a few streets away from the country club when your phone started ringing.. The noise was obnoxious like those test alerts they sometimes do. You pull over to the side of the road and pull out your phone.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the new commencement of the purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. All other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m. When the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. May God be with you all."

You stare at your phone as the voice reads the words that scroll through your screen. Laughing you put your phone away thinking it was some dumb joke and keep riding your bike. After only a few pedals a loud siren scares you, making you fall from your bike. You slowly stand up fixing your bike and looking around. Everything seemed normal so it must have been nothing. 

Then there was a scream.

One that you would hear in a horror movie when they are getting murdered. You look around confused as to where the noise came from until you see someone run out of a building holding their shoulder. Just as you were about to ask if they are okay another person runs out with a knife, stabbing the first person until they are laying in a puddle of their blood. Standing there in horror your eyes meet theirs as they look up.

As quickly as you can you get on your bike pedaling as fast as you can. You see people running out of the store with a bunch of things, other people laying on the ground. This honestly doesn’t even feel real to you. It has to be some nightmare you are about to wake up from. You take one hand off the bar to pinch yourself and sure enough this is all real. 

Suddenly a truck is revving behind you, headlights illuminating you on the street. The wheels make a crunching sound as they speed up along the street. Fuck. You have nowhere to go and they keep getting closer. Panicking you dart to the sidewalk trying to get to the trees for cover when you hear your name. Looking over your shoulder you see Rafe leaning to the passenger window trying to get your attention.

Great he defended you earlier just to kill you now.

“Can you just fucking stop for a minute. You need to get in.” Not stopping you go down a dirt road trying to get away only for him to follow. He passes you and stops so you can’t get any further. He gets out of the car and walks towards you. “Please, I just want to get home. You don’t have to do this.” You try to plead with him. Sure you could ride off right now but he would just catch up eventually.

Rafe gives you a look and shakes his head. “I’m not going to kill you or something. The kook from earlier, you know the asshole.” You nod your head at him recalling the guy. “He made a post once the announcement came on. Told everyone to go to your house so they can all kill you. I’m just trying to save you.”

It's hard to believe that he wants to help you. “Why would you help me?” He crosses his arms and takes a step back towards the driver side door. “I maybe an asshole but I’m not a killer. Plus you never once did anything to deserve this.” You were still skeptical until he showed you the post. After another second of thinking you agreed and he’s loading up your bike in the trunk. If he was going to kill you he would have done it by now. Both of you are out of sight of any person and plus there are no laws stopping him. Maybe he is just trying to help you.

You get in the passenger seat and look in the back to see a shirt with red stains on it. Rafe catches your eye sight when he gets in and sees how you scoot closer to the door. It’s the polo shirt he was wearing before you didn’t even notice he wasn’t wearing the same thing. You want to leave but he convinces you otherwise. “I got a bloody nose on the course. Stupid Topper was practicing swinging and I didn’t see.”

It makes sense, you’ve seen it happen plenty of times. Rafe is grateful when he sees you relax. He doesn’t want you to know that the blood is actually Thomas’. After he saw the post he found Thomas going to his car. He used the bat he keeps in the back seat to teach him a lesson and ended up killing him. The last thing Rafe needs is for you to be scared of him when all he wants is to protect you.

When he arrives at his house he is quick to get you inside. Stating that the less people that see you both the better. Plus his house has a great security system so no one will be able to get in.

“Where’s your family?” That’s a great question that he honestly couldn’t care about. The only person he’s worried about is his youngest sister but he already messaged her and she’s staying at her friend's house until it is all over. The house is the one next door so he knows she’s safe. “My dad and Rose are on a business trip. Sarah went with them and Wheezie is good. It’s just us here.” Something about the way he says it sounds reassuring yet the undertones tell a different story. Ignoring it you let him lead you around the house mansion, giving you a tour so you are comfortable. The time keeps ticking as the two of you talk. It feels like the world actually isn’t ending and it’s nice to forget about what is happening outside. Rafe had put on a movie after a while of just sitting. It was a dumb action movie so you weren’t really interested. You were looking around his room.

He said the upper floors would be safest since it gave the two of you more time to get to the safe room. Not that the two of you would need it but just in case. Again it made sense so you went along with it. The room was simple, a TV was across his bed and there were little decorations. It honestly didn’t seem like a bedroom and more like where you put the guests. As you look around Rafe is busy looking at you. 

He’s always like how you kept to yourself. Even when the other kooks gave you shit all you did was take it. Never put up a fight and took it with stride. It reminded him of himself. He’s used to taking crap from his dad and he isn’t allowed to say anything. He admires the fact that you share the quality with him.

When you turn your attention back to the tv you see that Rafe is looking at you. You turn to ask him what’s wrong but he takes you by surprise. He kissed you. It took you a few seconds to realize that he was kissing you. His lips are moving against yours but you are completely still. What the hell is happening? This isn’t real.

You pull away, pushing his shoulders when he tries to chase you. “What are you doing?” Wanting to put some space between you two, you move further away on the bed. Which in hindsight might have been bad since you are now up against the wall. “I’m kissing you. What the hell are you doing?” He grabs your arm, yanking you back next to him. He starts to kiss your shoulder as you try to think of what to do.

He’s kissing your neck and all you want is to get out of here. Pushing him off of you again, you get up from the bed. “What is wrong with you?” You give him a look of disbelief. “What’s wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you?” Rafe gets up from the bed and blocks the door as you try to leave. “Why are you doing this? I thought you wanted to help me. I don’t want this.”

Rafe is starting to get angry now. Why are you fighting this? “What are you even talking about?” He’s messing with your brain right now. There’s no way he can be serious. “Why fight this? We are so alike and we should be together.” Wow he really is serious. You knew he was crazy from what you’ve seen and what others told you but you never believed them.

“Are you fucking crazy? We don’t belong together. I don’t know where you got that idea when this is like the first time we even talked or hung out. Plus the only reason why I’m here is because of the stupid purge thing.” You’re panicking. He’s still blocking your way out and he has this look in his eyes. If you had to pinpoint it the look would be sad maybe desperation. But you knew better, that wasn’t it.

“Fine if that’s how you feel then you can leave.” He’s bluffing, the rejection hurts but he wouldn’t hurt you. You don’t make a move to leave so he goes over to drag you out of the room. He just wants you to leave him alone and just stay in one of the guest rooms. 

You really start to panic now. He’s throwing you out just because you won’t sleep with him. The grip on your arm is tight so you know he’s mad. Just as he goes to open the door you throw your body onto him, lips smashing against his. He’s confused. You were just fighting him because he kissed you and here you are. He pulls away holding you in his hands. “I’m sorry. Don’t put me out when they want to kill me.”

Oh

You think that he’s going to let them kill you. Wait he can actually work with this. “Why shouldn’t I? There’s nothing in it for me by keeping you safe. I should honestly just offer you up to them.” He’s lying to his teeth. Even if he truly wanted to, there's a part of him that doesn’t want to hurt you. Your eyes start to swell with tears. You’re scared, you don’t want to die and you know out there you will. 

“I’m just scared, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight so I was pushing you away.” He knows you are lying, only saying it to save yourself. A sick part of him doesn’t even care, liking that you are willing to sell yourself for safety. One of his hands cup your cheek, pulling you closer to him. “It’s okay baby. You don’t need to be scared, I’ve got you.” There is a need to be scared. He’s willing to sell you out and he thinks there is nothing to be scared about.

He leans in, bumping his nose with yours before kissing you. You timidly kiss him back, letting him set the pace. As the kiss progresses he gets more aggressive. Slowly he starts to pull you back into the room. His hands are wandering your body and it doesn’t feel right. You wish this stupid purge never started or that he had never found you. Maybe it would have been better if you did go home and they found you.

His kisses start to travel down your neck, his hands making their way under your shirt. You allow him to pull it up, leaving you in just a bra. Rafe takes a moment to admire you, playing with your breasts. He takes you closing your eyes as a sign of pleasure, enjoying the feeling. But in reality you just need to get it over with. “You look so beautiful.” You hum not knowing what to really say. Once again he takes it as you enjoying what he’s doing. 

Before you know it you’re laying down on his bed naked with him on top of you. His fingers are rubbing your clit, circling it as he sucks on one of your nipples. You hate that it actually feels a little good. But you remind yourself that you can’t control how your body reacts. His actions stop causing your eyes to open.

You are greeted with his eyes staring down at you. “I knew you felt it too.” He kissed you, distracting you from the fact he lined himself up. Your mouth gaps open when he pushes himself in. It feels like he is splitting you in two. Giving you just a few moments to adjust he starts to thrust. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into him.

“God, you feel so good.” His head drops to your shoulder. “Doesn’t it feel good?” You nod your head as he kisses your neck, trying to stifle the whimpers threatening to escape. His thrusts are steady, ripping you apart from the inside out. You only got a little glimpse of him but you saw that he was big. Not only that he was girthy too.

It wouldn’t be a shock if he was actually ripping you apart. His right hand right hand finds its way between the both of you. His thumb continues its work from earlier and circles your clit. You squirm around as he keeps using your body. 

He grabs your face so you are looking at him. “It feels good right?” He repeats the question, nuzzling his nose with yours. “So good.” At the confirmation he lets out a moan and rests his head in the crook of your neck. 

You don’t know how long you laid there but soon his hips started to lose their rhythm. His grip on you tightens as he finally cums. He keeps holding you so you wrap your arms around him. You soothe him for some odd reason, running your hand up and down his back.

Rafe starts to feel guilty. He does know that you only slept with him to stay alive. It’s starting to eat at him. He lifts himself up to look at you and caresses your face. When your eyes meet his, he breaks.

“I wouldn’t have hurt you.” You just look at him without saying anything. “You may not believe it but I mean it. I won’t hurt you.”

You somewhat believe him. Maybe he wouldn’t have sent you off to your death but he still hurt you. Yet for some reason you give him what he’s seeking. “I know. It’s okay.”

The purge may have taken a part of you but you know that he’ll live with the guilt.

[solarmorrigan]

“That’s it?” Steve asks. “You’re not going to go to prom because you don’t know how to dance?”

“I’m uncoordinated enough! I don’t need to be out there making even more of an idiot of myself in some floofy dress,” Robin insists.

“Rob, no one at prom knows how to dance. Everyone kind of looks like an idiot, that’s half the point,” Steve says.

“Oh yeah, Steve, you’re really selling me on the experience,” Robin drawls.

“No, listen, I’m not done,” Steve says, giving her a nudge. “The other half of the point is just… going and having the memories, y’know? You get to dress up and take the dumb picture with your date, and avoid the punch because someone probably spiked it, and you get to dance and be close to someone and just, like, be carefree for a night.”

Robin says nothing. She doesn’t agree that prom night is paramount to the teen experience, she doesn’t tease the shit out of him for having such stereotypical expectations of a dumb high school dance, she’s just… watching him. She’s turned sideways on the sofa, one leg drawn up to her chest, and she’s looking at him like he’s something between a fascinating puzzle and the saddest thing she’s seen all day, and he knows what she’s thinking.

Steve hadn’t gone to senior prom. He’d been planning to, of course, at the beginning of the year – he’d had Nancy then, and even as early as October, he’d been fantasizing about the flowers he’d bring her and the dinner they’d go to and the way they would sway slowly to whatever shitty songs the DJ put on. But by the time spring had rolled around, he not only hadn’t had Nancy, he hadn’t really had any friends in school at all—not real ones—and so he hadn’t seen the point in attending.

He'd gone to a movie with Dustin that night, instead (he’s at least eighty percent certain the little shit had set it up as some kind of pity outing, since he’d known Steve wasn’t going to prom, but it had been kind of nice that someone had cared enough to even try). It hadn’t been bad, but it hadn’t been exactly what he’d wanted.

Stiffly, Steve glances away from Robin and shrugs. “Or whatever. That’s what it’s like in the movies, right?”

Robin opens her mouth, but her eyes are still soft, and suddenly Steve doesn’t want to hear what she has to say. Instead, he levers himself up off the couch and turns to her, holding out a hand.

“C’mon, I’ll teach you,” he says, cracking a grin. “Then you won’t have an excuse not to go.”

“You… want to teach me how to dance,” Robin asks flatly.

Steve shrugs. “You got anything better to do tonight?”

Raising a sharp brow at Steve, Robin starts to smile, too. “You sure you wanna subject your feet to that?”

“I think I can handle it,” Steve shoots back, and then Robin is up off the couch and helping him push the coffee table out of the way.

They rifle through Steve’s collection of tapes until they find something he deems just the right tempo, pop the cassette in, and stand in the middle of the living room.

“Okay, give me your hand,” Steve says, taking her right hand in his left, “and your other goes on my shoulder.”

Robin does as he says, glancing dubiously down at her feet as Steve places his hand on her waist. “I’m not actually sure this is a good idea,” she says with a grimace. “I might be unteachable.”

“We haven’t even started yet,” Steve reminds her. “Seriously, relax, this is super easy. It’s just a box step waltz.”

Despite her uncertainty, Robin can’t help but smirk at him. “A waltz, huh?” she teases. “Did your parents make you take fancy-pants, rich kid dance lessons when you were younger, or something?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “No. My mom taught me,” he says, and then rushes on before Robin has anything to say about that. “So you’re gonna start by stepping back with your right foot when I step forward, alright?”

Brows furrowed, Robin nods and looks down at her feet again, and Steve squeezes her waist gently to get her attention.

“Look up at me, not at your feet. It’ll be easier, I promise.”

“How am I going to know what my feet are doing if I’m not looking at them?”

“You’re attached to them, Robin.”

“That’s debatable.”

Steve tries not to laugh. He really does. “Okay, you’re in marching band, right? This cannot be harder than following whatever steps that involves while also playing an instrument.”

“This is different!” Robin insists. “I can’t step on the French horn’s feet! The French horn isn’t gonna judge me if I fuck up! Like, the worst that’ll happen in marching band is that the drum major will yell at you, and the drum major is always yelling, so it doesn’t even make a difference anymore, and–”

“Hey,” Steve cuts in, squeezing Robin’s hand this time. “I’m not going to judge you if you fuck up, okay? I am literally the last person qualified to do that.”

Robin huffs out a little laugh. “Right. Two of a kind,” she says.

“Exactly.” Steve grins. “Now c’mon, Buckley, I know you’ve got this. On one, back with your right foot.”

Nodding, Robin glances down at her feet, but looks right back up at Steve. “Okay.”

“Okay. One–”

Steve steps forward with his left foot, and Robin immediately steps forward with her right and kicks him in the shin.

“Ow,” Steve says, dry and flat because it hadn’t really hurt.

“Sorry!” Robin ducks her head, laughing nervously.

Steve shakes his head. “Let’s try that again. Back with your right foot.”

“At least I had the right side?”

“Yep, now aim for the right direction, yeah?”

This time, when Steve counts off, Robin’s right foot goes back, and his left follows her.

“Okay, now what?” Robin asks, looking down again.

“Now, you’re gonna bring your left foot–” gently, Steve judges the top of her left foot with his right, “back,” as she begins to slide back, he moves and taps the inside of her ankle, “and to the left. Just like that.”

“No injuries this time,” Robin quips, and Steve smiles.

“Now move your right foot over next to your left.” He nods as Robin gets her feet back together. “Forward with your left foot – good,” he encourages as he steps back to mirror her. “And now forward and to the side with your right. Like you did with your left before, but opposite.”

“Uh.” Robin makes the move slowly, still staring down, but she looks back up at him when she gets her right foot planted. “Like that?”

“Yep. Now left foot over, and–” Steve follows her, bringing them back to the same position they started in, “that’s it!”

Robin blinks at him. “That’s it?”

“Easy, right?” Steve says.

“Yeah.” Robin nods hesitantly. “I think I can handle that.”

“Of course you can,” Steve insists. “Now let’s try it again. Back with your right foot. One–”

Robin steps forward with her right and kicks Steve in the shin.

“Sorry!”

Steve quickly becomes glad they’re both in their socks, or he’d be sporting much more serious bruises by the time they reach the end of the tape. Robin doesn’t have any trouble keeping the order of the steps in mind, but keeps moving in the opposite direction of where she’s supposed to be going, and Steve has been kicked and stepped on more times in the last half hour than he thinks he has been in his entire life.

“This is ridiculous,” Robin groans. “This is the literal definition of women having to do everything backwards and in heels!”

“You’re not wearing heels,” Steve points out.

“I would be at prom,” Robin says. “Why do I have to go backwards?”

“Because you’re following.”

“Well why can’t I lead?”

“Because you don’t even know how to follow!”

“Exactly! I’m starting from scratch either way!” Robin aims pleading eyes up at Steve. “Can’t we just try it in reverse? How much worse at it could I be?”

The thing is, Steve’s only ever led when dancing – he’s never had reason to learn how to do the follow part. But then, he’s already been reversing the steps in his head all night in order to instruct Robin; following couldn’t be that hard, could it?

“Fine,” Steve groans, letting his head hang back for a moment. “Fine. Trade me.”

“Yes! Trade!” Robin pumps her fist once in triumph, and Steve can’t help but laugh.

He lets go of her right hand and instead takes her left before putting his other hand on her shoulder.

“Hand on my waist.” Steve nods to his to his left side, and Robin moves into position. “Right, so you’re gonna step forward with your left this time, okay?”

Robin nods. “Forward with my left. Okay.”

“Okay. One–”

Steve steps back with his right foot. Robin steps back with her left.

They stand there, each half balanced on their back foot, staring at each other, before Robin bursts into laughter. Steve follows suit.

“I– I told you I was unteachable,” Robin giggles once they’ve caught their breath, her forehead resting on Steve’s shoulder.

“Nope, this is a personal challenge now,” Steve insists, still grinning. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a quitter. You’re going to learn to waltz if it kills me.”

“Shouldn’t it be ‘if it kills me’?” Robin draws back to ask.

“My death is looking a lot more likely at this point,” Steve says, and Robin snorts.

“God, you’re so dramatic.”

“Yeah, okay, Miss Unteachable. Ready to try again?”

Robin takes in a breath, wiggles her shoulders, and puts her hands back in position. “Ready.”

“Great. Just remember–”

“Forward with my left foot,” Robin echoes, overlapping Steve’s instruction perfectly.

Steve grins. “Okay, then. One–”

Somehow, Robin makes a better leader than a follower. Once she gets over the initial nerves, she manages the reverse order of steps just fine, even getting confident enough to stop looking at her feet after several sets.

(The fact that Steve has no trouble immediately reversing the steps himself and still instructing Robin receives no comment, though it does receive a brief glare, which gets a smug grin in return.)

They rewind the tape again and keep going. Steve lifts their joined hands to spin Robin around when they hit the second song and she follows with a laugh before insisting that, since she’s leading, she should be the one spinning Steve. He has to duck a little to get under her arm, but they feel the maneuver is quite successful.

Robin offers to try to dip him, but Steve declines, insisting he doesn’t feel like getting dropped on the floor today, earning a pinch at his waist even as Robin laughs.

As the evening wears on, they give up their carefully-held waltz positions and lean in close, until Robin’s head is resting on Steve’s shoulder again, her arms wrapped around his waist, while Steve drapes his arms over her shoulders and leans his head on top of hers.

“This is the kind of slow dancing I would’ve expected from Steve Harrington at prom,” Robin says as they sway in gentle circles to the beat of the music.

Steve hiccups out a little laugh. “Yeah, well, I had to make sure you knew how to do the real thing, first.”

“And?” Robin asks. “Do I pass?”

“I think you’ve got the hang of it,” Steve says. “Now you have no excuse not to go.”

“Steve,” Robin draws back a little, enough to look up at him without pulling away, “who the hell do you think I’m going to be dancing with at prom? It’s not like I can ask– anyone I’d be interested in.”

Steve’s heart sinks a little, the same way it always does when he’s reminded of how fucking unfair the world is to Robin and to other people like her. He shrugs a bit lamely. “You could go with friends?”

“I guess,” Robin says, staring at the front of Steve’s shirt, suddenly lost in thought.

Steve frowns. He doesn’t even remember what had gotten them onto the subject of prom—it’s January, the dance is months away—but what had started out as something fun is starting to make Robin feel bad, and he can’t have that.

“Hey, I didn’t mean–”

“You should go with me,” Robin cuts in, looking back up at him.

“What?”

“To prom,” Robin says. “You should be my big ol’ platonic date.”

“Right,” Steve drawls. “Because going to prom the year after you’ve graduated doesn’t scream that you haven’t moved on from high school at all. Definitely not sad, or anything.”

“Sure,” Robin agrees wryly. “About as un-sad as not going to your senior dance at all.”

Steve cuts a sharp look at Robin, who just smiles at him.

“I mean, I’m just saying: who better to give me the whole prom experience?” Robin shrugs, tone entirely too innocent to be trusted. “If you go with me, we can dress up and get the dumb picture together, and we can avoid the punch, and you can tell me all the gossip I know for a fact you still know about at least half the people there, we can dance… The whole shebang.”

When Steve had been imagining prom night with Nancy the year before, he’d imagined romance. He’d imagined meeting her eyes across the dinner table and sneaking kisses on the dance floor. He’d imagined going back to his place afterwards and making love, spending the rest of the night worshipping Nancy and making sure she knew how beautiful she’d looked and what a wonderful time he’d had with her.

But when he thinks about it now, he thinks about making jokes at dinner with Robin, about standing around in the tinsel-strewn gym and making catty remarks about who’s dressed terribly and whose dancing is even worse. He thinks about them dancing together, still, and maybe they’ll still go back to his place afterwards, where they can watch terrible movies for the rest of the night.

It doesn’t sound at all like what he’d wanted a year ago.

It sounds perfect, now.

“You’ll have to buy the tickets,” Steve finally says, and Robin’s face lights up. “And I expect my corsage to be very fancy.”

Robin laughs. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t be a cheap date, Harrington.”

“We can go Dutch on dinner, if you want,” Steve says.

“How generous,” Robin deadpans, and Steve doesn’t bother to hold back his own grin.

They both know he’s probably going to pay for dinner. He doesn’t mind.

“You’re serious, though?” Robin asks, looking up at him. “You really want to go to prom just to waltz with me?”

“Well, I went to all the trouble of teaching you.” Steve shrugs.

Robin bites her lip around a smile. “Do I get to lead?”

“For the sake of my shins, you’d better,” Steve says, and Robin laughs, leaning back in to cinch her arms around his waist again.

“You are my favorite person, you know that?” she says softly, just audible over music still crooning from the stereo.

“Yeah,” Steve says, pressing his cheek to the top of her head and closing his eyes. “You’re mine, too.”

[Prompt: Slow dancing]

[theauthor-of-the-journals]

Hi mister ford! I have 2 questions

1 if you could talk to your younger self, which age would you choose to talk to and what would tou tell him/you?

2 whos your favorite twin

You have very nice bones i should visit gravittyfalls some day

Hello there! Two questions I appreciate that.

For the first one I think I would talk to my 18 year old self. I held too strong of a grudge with Stan over what happened in high school and I regret that.

I’ve had many years to think about how those events took place and I’ve come to realize it was never really that serious. At least not serious enough for our relationship to waver due to it.

I also wish my younger self at that time tried to talk to our parents and convince them that he didn’t need to be kicked out of the house. I feel as though I could have done something to stop that as well.

For your second question I’m not sure I’d say I have a clear favorite. Yes, Dipper and I are very similar and spend more time together but Mabel has such a bright and interesting personality to where I enjoy spending time with her as well.

Most people assume I favor Dipper and I can understand where that mindset is coming from. He reminds me a lot of myself so I feel as though in a way spending time with him and giving him advice I wish I had at that age is healing me in some aspect.

I also try to spend time with Mabel whenever I get the chance. She is quite spunky so I must admit I don’t always have the energy to keep up with her. But when I do we have a great time together.

Lastly, I am slightly confused on the bone comment. Do you mean I have good bone structure? If not I am wondering if I should be slightly alarmed by that comment.

Gravity Falls is a wonderful place to visit, just be cautious of all the different types of creatures and anomalies we have here and you’ll have a splendid time.

[spooky-holtz]

I Put a Spell on You

Melissa Schemmenti x fem!reader

Genre: fluff (crack if you squint)

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This is the first part in a little series that explores the mug from 'Delicate'. I really wanted to share some little ideas I had about the images that would be on it so stay tuned for some more parts bc I'm already writing them :)

Feedback is very much appreciated!

When the topic of Halloween costumes came up in conversation in the teachers’ lounge during a crisp morning at the beginning of October, you couldn’t help but join in with tales of your own previous looks. The good, the bad, and the ugly are all shared amongst the group when Jacob brings up his outfit from the year prior; one half of a matching Mario and Luigi costume with Zac.  

“You know, I’ve never actually done a couples costume,” you say to nobody in particular, thinking out loud as you stir sugar into your coffee in an effort to make it a little less bland. The conversation stops immediately, and every head turns to look at where you lean with your back against the counter, cradling your steaming mug.  

“Wait, what?!” Janine exclaims, her wide eyes only adding to her outrage. “Never? In your entire life?” 

“I guess, yeah,” you shrug, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. If you had known that every pair of eyes would be focused on your quickly reddening cheeks, you would never have opened your mouth. “I’ve just never been with anyone who was interested in that sort of stuff.”  

The silence in the room is tense. The fact that this group is so shocked at your little revelation is worrying to say the least but at least it shows they care, albeit about the wrong things.  

“Have you at least done a group costume with your friends?” Asks Jacob, his expression of concern and disbelief matching Janine’s comically wide eyes. You pause for a moment, looking up at a stain on the ceiling in a bid to avoid all eye contact as you recall various high school and college parties. Not once can you remember organizing a group costume.  

“Uhhh, nope. I’ve never done it,” you say, feeling brave enough to look back down and at the table directly in front of you. Barbara has turned in her seat to join the conversation, watching the two sides of the room like a tennis match. She’s clearly not as bothered as the rest of the room but happy to be involved, nonetheless. Your gaze shifts to Melissa who is looking over the rim of her cat-eye glasses at you, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed slightly in thought. The intensity of her stare makes you feel more uneasy than the rest of the room combined. You shuffle your feet and pull your eyes away from hers when Janine chirps up again.  

“I actually can’t believe it. I thought you would have been really into all that.” 

“Who says I’m not,” you shoot back. “I just didn’t have anybody that was willing to make themselves look like an idiot with me.”  

All through college you would have killed to enter a party, no matter how shitty the frat house venue was, with the Barbie to your Ken or the Buzz to your Woody on your arm. The memories of entering parties with your friends in ‘sexy cat’ costumes, trailing at the back dressed in a bright white Padme Amidala getup makes you chuckle.  

“Actually, the parties kinda remind me of that scene from Mean Girls, you know?” Most of the group chuckles along and nods in recognition, with only Barbara looking slightly confused. “I guess it was just never meant to be.”  

You push yourself off the counter and move toward the closest table. Pulling a chair out next to Barbara, you can’t help but feel a certain redhead’s gaze boring into the side of your head.  

“I say we change that,” she remarks, her first addition to the entire discussion. “I’ve already got my costume, and it’s pretty hot if I do say so myself, but we can easily make it a couples thing for ya.”  

Barb turns to you, shockingly overjoyed at the idea. Considering she didn’t get involved with Halloween, her enthusiasm at the prospect is unmatched.  

“Now wouldn’t that be lovely?” She gasps, looking between the two of you with an almost knowing glint in her eye. You think for a moment, looking over to meet green eyes and seeing them scrunched slightly as she smirks back at you, knowing that having Barbara on her side ultimately means you lose.  

“That’s really nice of you Mel, but we’re not a couple. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable with whatever talk will happen from certain people,” you almost whisper, trying to keep prying eyes of your co-workers that crane their necks to look over her shoulder from hearing.  One sharp look over her shoulder has them quickly backing down, instantly focusing their attention on the suddenly interesting paperwork that sits in front of each of them. Satisfied, Melissa continues.

“Hun, you really think that bothers me?” She says with a raised eyebrow, leaning forward onto the table, the grading she was doing completely forgotten about. “Please, I’ve had much worse said about me. Besides, having you by my side will only make my costume look better.”  

She punctuates her last statement with another wink and you feel your cheeks heat again, turning a violent shade of red.  

In the last year you’ve spent at Abbott you’ve grown to learn a lot about Melissa’s ‘persuasive’ personality and admittedly had fallen head over heels for her. Who wouldn’t? You’re pretty sure Barbara has caught on to your lovesick puppy act, thankfully leaving the topic alone in conversation. Instead, you get knowing glances from the older woman anytime she catches you and Melissa giggling like school children over a joke in the hallways, or when the redhead makes your coffee just how you like it in the mornings, leaving the steaming brew waiting in front of your seat for your arrival.  

You mull her proposition over, staring into your cooling mug of coffee that sits between your hands on the table. She leans back in her chair, arms folded, and eyebrow raised again as she stares you down. She knows she’s won.  

“Okay, why not?” You sigh, looking up again to meet her gaze. She grins and claps, the laugh lines around her eyes accentuating the wideness of her smile. If you had known agreeing would have made her this happy, there would have been absolutely no hesitation. Seeing her pearly white smile is the highlight of most days for you, the sight instantly improving any bad days you may have. This is no exception.  

In hindsight you probably should have discussed the details of your costume before blindly agreeing to Melissa’s proposal, but there’s no way you could ever turn her down. This idea doesn’t come to you until the morning of Halloween however, as you stand in the hallway outside your classroom trying to psych yourself up for a day pretending to be Melissa Schemmenti’s other half.  

“Mel, I look like an idiot,” you grumble. “How do you get to dress like that, and I’ve ended up looking like Elmo and Kermit the Frog had an illegitimate child?”  

“No no no, you look great, hun,” she reassures you. The way her lips are slightly pursed in a desperate bid to bite back the giggle that’s threatening to escape says otherwise.  

You, on the other hand, are less than impressed at her terrible poker face. Of all the times for her to lose her hard exterior, it had to be now. As much as you want to be mad at her for omitting the extremely-green-lycra part of your Vision to her Wanda costume, her visible excitement and rosy cheeks immediately put a stop to any negativity.  

“I’m serious,” she continues, “besides you don’t look anywhere near as bad as Janine right now. That girl is wearing whole-ass beard.”  

You raise your eyebrows as if to say ‘really?’, not quite believing her frantic excuses.  

“Don’t give me that look. It looks as if she’s rolled around on the floor of a barber shop.”  

You huff through your nose, arms crossing over your chest. You can’t help but look her up and down as she tries her best to reassure you that this look was the best decision for today. There’s no denying that she looks incredible in her Scarlet Witch getup, the tight outfit accentuating her irresistible curves and stunning figure. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her in such a form fitting piece and you really hope this isn’t the last time. You’re so obviously checking her out, but you hope your furrowed brow makes it look as though you’re just deep in frustrated thought.  

Meanwhile, you’re clad in bright green lycra and sickly yellow basketball shorts, all topped off with a matching cape and some alarmingly bright red face-paint. Your hair is tucked inside the hood of the outfit, and you desperately hope that this aids you in going unnoticed and unrecognised, though deep down you know that the assaulting colours will do little to disguise you and give you away as soon as the day begins. There is absolutely no hope of camouflaging in the full halls of Abbott when you look like a walking Crayola pack.  

As you begin to retreat into yourself, the annoyance quickly turning into embarrassment at the situation, Melissa reaches out to touch your arm that is still crossed over your torso.  

“Hey, I’m telling you we look incredible right now. I can guarantee you nobody else will have made this amount of effort with their costume,” you know she’s trying her best to reassure you but you’re past the point of no return. You’re one mean sunburn joke away from taking a dish sponge to your face and changing into something a lot less… weird.  

As you open your mouth to dismiss Melissa’s words, she silences you by reaching out her other hand to flatten the tie of your cape that sits around your neck. Her gloved hand feels impossibly warm through the fabric and you’re sure she’s moved closer to you, the toes of your bright white sneakers almost touching those of her crimson heels. She looks up through her eyelashes at you once she’s satisfied with her work, her hand staying in place and flattening against your sternum. This is the only time you’ll be glad for the paint slathered across your delicate features because you’re sure you’ve turned the exact same shade of red underneath.  

Melissa’s proximity to you is intoxicating. You can almost see every faint freckle that is covered by her makeup, her winged eyeliner impossibly sharp even this close. You’re trapped in this position, but you have no desire to move, desperately hoping she’ll push you back the few steps to trap you against the cold brick wall. You’re positive you’re imagining her eyes flickering from your own down to your scarlet lips, but the sight can’t help but make you imagine what she would look like with her own red lipstick smudged past the edges of her full, inviting lips.  

The clicking of heels against the tiled floor snaps you out of the moment and she jumps back, putting a good foot of space between you as you both try to recollect yourselves. Ava rounds the corner adorned in a flashy silver getup, her cape billowing behind her as she struts toward you. Her eyes squint when she sees the two of you and her mouth drops slightly as she realises just who is stood next to the Scarlet Witch.  

“Wandavision, wuh-wandavision,” she sings as she nears you. “Goddamn girl, you look less like Vision and more like ‘blind’”  

“Ava,” you groan over her cackle, “I can already feel my students ripping into me for the next 7 hours, i don’t need you getting involved as well.”  

“All I’m saying is you look like Mr. Clean had a bad accident with some ketchup,” another cackle follows as she carries on her way down the hallway, not even giving you chance to process the insult as the sound of her walking away grows faint. You turn slowly to Melissa, not wanting to see her expression of pity. When your eyes meet, all you can see is an impossible softness that rarely comes out in the redhead.  

“I genuinely think you look incredible right now, hun,” she says, her hand reaching out to touch your farm once again. Her thumb begins to rub where it lays, the friction burning an abnormal amount through the layers of fabric that separate your skin. You scoff at her statement, not quite believing that in her world the sunburnt equivalent of Howie Mandel is ‘incredible’. Before you can say a word, she continues. “Nobody has ever been willing to do this for me. You dropped everything to join in and I absolutely love you for it.” Her grin widens as she sees your walls visibly come down at her words, knowing she’s got under your skin and won yet again.  

You can’t help but lose yourself in her eyes at her confession, noticing the smile lines that surround them deepening with her increasing happiness. You would give anything to see those lines deepen like this every single day, especially if it means that you were the cause of it and her good mood.  

A gasp from behind you pulls you away from losing yourself too deeply, both of you snapping your heads to look at the interruption. In front of you stands none other than Barabara Howard dressed as... a bumble bee? Almost as if sensing your confusion at the letters attached to her torso, she jumps in with, “I’m a spelling bee, before you can ask,” you raise your eyebrows and let out a small 'ohhh' before she continues. “And I have no need to ask who you two are, you little marvel cuties! You both look absolutely incredible!” 

You don’t miss the way that Melissa squeezes your arm slightly from where it still sits, resting against your bicep, saying a silent ‘I told you so’.  

“You have to let me take a picture of you so I can show Gerald before the students get here,” she pleads. You’re about to decline the request until you look down to where Melissa stands next to you, only to see her grin impossibly wider than before, practically bouncing with excitement. The sight makes your heart melt in your chest and demolishes any notion of hesitance you had about this costume. Her happiness and enthusiasm are reason enough for all this to be worth it, even if your face will be stained by the bright red makeup for days to come.  

“Alright then, let’s do this,” you sigh, moving away slightly to get into position while Barb pulls her phone out of her own costume, lifting it up to prepare for the barrage of images she is about to assault you with.  

You both stand facing the camera, Melissa with her hands reaching out, almost as if she’s casting a spell. You take the opposite  approach, widening your stance and placing your hands on your hips. Your head is lifted, standing tall and proud to the side of the redhead as you both pose.  

You hear the camera shutter closing each time Barb jabs at her screen with her forefinger, Melissa changing poses slightly with every noise. You can’t help but grin yourself as you look down at her, her excitement for the holiday no doubt going above and beyond that of the literal children you teach.  

Her head turns toward you as the photoshoot continues, catching your loving gaze toward her. She softens her own gaze and smiles back at you as the shutter goes off one last time and you hear a “alright, I think that should be enough pictures” from the eldest woman of your group. The statement causes you to tear your eyes away from Melissa’s and clear your throat, the both of you forgetting the company you had for a brief moment.  

“Uh, yeah, I think so too,” you stutter, caught off guard by the way the irresistible redhead matched your captivated expression. “I think I’m gonna shoot off to get ready for the day – that classroom won’t tidy itself.” Your eyes flit between the two older women as you speak, both of them nodding along and agreeing to do the same with the last few free minutes of the morning before madness inevitably ensues.  

“I’ll see you at recess later hun,’ Mel calls as you turn and wave, making your way down the hallway toward your classroom. “Have a great day!” You can’t help but grin again, feeling as though it hasn’t fallen off your face for the last ten minutes that you’ve spent in the redhead’s company. Your step undeniably has a little more pep than it did earlier, that’s for sure.  

[slut4satoru-blog]

Parent-Teacher Conference—Toji Fushiguro-Zenin. +18 CONTENT MINORS DNI

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

a singledad!Toji fic to fill my empty heart. i’m a slut for toji and i hope you guys are too. making this a 3 part series! please enjoyyyyyyy. 💜

content warnings: f!reader, AFAB, tiny kabedon, height difference, healthy age gap (6 years), trying my best to keep body descriptions to a minimum, hickeys, sex toys, marking, jealousy, slight possessiveness, oral (f!receiving), tiddie sucking <3, fingering, edging, public use of sex toy, pet names, and whatever else might had slipped my mind.

word count: 2.2k

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It’s been a busy 2 weeks with the PT conference being tomorrow. I have 0 time for myself. There’s two places I’m always at, either at school teaching my students or at home grading and preparing student reports. The end of the 10 weeks is always a mess. At least I teach High School, and my kids are so good they help me with the stuff.

There’s always a few students from each class that volunteer to help organize and store papers and that has helped me for sure. Like whenever Nobara, Yuuji and Megumi from my 10th grade class stay after school every Tuesday to help me out. They really are the best and I 100% could not survive without them. Talking about the kids, Megumi is really special. I’ve literally taught him since middle school, and it’s kind of funny because when I first started teaching him he would accidentally call me “mom” sometimes, his cute little face always made me smile. I remember when his mother passed away and I attended the service, it was the first time I saw his dad.

Toji Fushiguro, what a sight to remember. He was one of those people I knew I would never forget about. Year after year, conference after conference Toji and I’s friendship grew closer. Of course, always formal since he is my student’s dad. But there’s always a part of me that dreams of it being more than just that. The way he would slightly touch my hand with his fingers, acting as if nothing happened. Whenever he says “Hello” and puts his hand on my waist as he brings me in for a hug. I swear, one time that man was as hard as a rock and he just acted so normally. His tall, muscular build haunted me in my dreams.

Every single night, I would dream about him ravaging me in different positions. The way he would eat me out, fuck me senseless. I would imagine how he could roughly handle me and just how good he would feel inside of me, leaving me clenching around my fingers as I tried to satiate the need for his cock. However, every single morning I had to remind myself that it would never change. At least that’s what I always thought.

I decided to get up 1 hour earlier and get myself ready. Since today we had no class and I wasn't going to deal with any cooking, I wouldn’t have to wear my go-to chef uniform. Rummaging through my clothes, I decided to wear a simple emerald green and black pants suit, along with some 2 inch closed platforms. Also, I took the opportunity to wear some makeup and style my hair since I rarely got the chance to do so in school.

Once I arrived at the Jujutsu Technical School campus I quickly went up to finish setting up my lab to greet the parents and guardians of my students. For each parent student teacher conference I would have the kids make something for their families so they could snack as they picked up the grades for the quarter and discuss some details with me. They all decided to make some cake pops and they looked adorable. Some are movie themed, others by colors and even by aesthetics. Kids these days, am I right? When I finished everything I decided to sit patiently at my desk and wait for all of the parents to arrive.

Not to my surprise, Toji arrived first. I could sense his presence even with me being against the door. His sultry, silky and sinful voice decided to greet me. “Hey there Ms. _____. It’s been too long since our last encounter.” I turned my seat around to face him, getting startled as he was way closer than I anticipated. His hand went for my arm, sliding one finger over my bare hands. “Hi Sir, it’s a pleasure to see you get here so early. As you know, Gumi’s sweets are at the left corner of the table. You can grab the cake pops he made you and Sumi this time. He worked really hard on them.”

He looked at the table, walked up to it and got his and Tsumiki’s bag and returned to my desk. He shoved the sweets in his pocket and plopped his hands to either side of my desk. Trapping me in to smell his fresh, clean cologne. “I was thinking of doing some experiments. What do you think? Megumi tells me about everything you guys do in this class. And, it gets me thinking. Are you as fun in bed as you are in the classroom? I’m sorry Ms. ____ but I know I’m not the only one that feels this tension.”

He stopped for a second, eyed me up and down. Taking one of his hands and moving it to my chin as he lifted it up to continue his sermon. “I‘ve seen the way you look at me. How your thighs clench whenever I tease you. I’m not blind you know? And you’re not hiding it now either.” He took his eyes off of mine and dragged them across my body. I could feel his intense stare burning through the fabric. Starting a fire in my core that would soon become too hot to control.

“Sir, this isn’t right… Anyone can come up now and see us like this. I work here, I don’t want to risk that for whatever my body feels like. I can deal with it later. This is wrong.” I tried to believe the words that came out of my mouth. We both knew i was lying about it not being right. We were both adults, he was only a few years older than me since he had Megumi at 16. We were only 6 years apart, so it wasn’t inmoral. However, there was something about this being too good to be true. I just couldn’t wrap my head around how things were happening.

“Can we try something? Please? I swear if you say no I won’t bother you after this.” He opened his black suitcase that he always brought to store all the papers us teachers would bring to the parents. Once it was open, he pulled out a weirdly shaped pink toy. I’ve seen this before, it’s called a love sense. He saw the way my eyes lit up to the toy and asked. “I figure you’re familiar with this, right? I promise I’ll behave if you’re a good girl.”

I stood up and walked up to the door. Looking at the empty hallways since the pt conference was 30 minutes away. “Am i really about to do this…?” I whispered to myself as I closed my lab’s room and locked it. I went to Toji, sat on top of my desk and responded. “I’ll allow this… experiment. But you have to promise not to go too far. This is my job, and I’m not willing to lose it because I moaned while talking about bread.” He laughed at my remarks and sighed beautifully, standing between my legs and wrapping me in his arms. I could feel his cinnamony breath near my lips as he spoke. “Don’t worry darling, this thing is nothing compared to what I want to do to you. Consider this preparation for what comes next.”

Without saying more, he leaned in to kiss me almost as if he was afraid of ruining whatever it is that we had these past years. His hands diligently went under my satin shirt, taking it out of the pants to grope my tits. “They’re so soft, I could drown here.” He whispered in your ears as he lifted the shirt up completely to suck on them, leaving cute little markings all along them. “Just wait till you see my ass.” I playfully dared him, ruffling one of my hands through his soft, black hair as i left one of my hands on the desk for support. Throwing my head back as he sucked my nipples with such expertise. It really felt like he was french kissing me there.

“Oh, please don’t stop. This feels so good.” I whined at him as I started feeling new sensations, I had never before felt so sensitive on my breasts. Maybe because of my lack of sex partners. It had been such a bad experience with none of my other flings getting me to orgasm. So frustrating I ended up stopping all together. I could feel his grin across my nipple as he slowly popped it as he let it go. “Time to see that ass babe, can’t wait any longer.”

He flipped me skillfully, carefully pulling down my pants & lingerie that I wore that day. “All wet for me baby? So nice and plump; you keep wrapping me up in your little finger, huh?” He took one of his hands and teasingly slid it across my slit. I shuddered; his cold, big fingers clashing against my hot plump core. He started to play with my arousal, slipping it up and down. Occasionally grazing above my clit as to piss me off. “Toji, please. We have 15 minutes until the parents arrive. Just fuck me already.”

“Fuck you? Oh no baby girl, you’ve got it all wrong. You see…” He stopped talking for a second, and I groaned when I felt his mouth on my clit. Skillfully eating me out like he had 1,000 years of experience. “My plan isn’t to fuck you now.” He planted another kiss on my cunt, tongue skimming all through my folds. “We‘ll talk about that later. ‘Kay sweetheart?”. With that he stopped, removing himself from my needy core and slipped the toy inside of me, filling me up instantly as a moan slipped through my teeth.

“Remember, this is connected to my phone. You better act nice if you want me to be nice.” He grinned like a man-whore and I enjoyed every single of it. He licked my thighs to “clean-up after himself” and then wiped it dry with some tissue I had laying around. After that, he walked to the chair in the back and waited for the classroom/lab to fill up with more parents.

“Hello, thank you all for attending today’s PT Conference. I’m Ms. _____ and as you all probably know by now, I’m your kid’s Culinary Arts elective course teacher….” I roughly explained the next 2 big projects the kids had to make. And how the Culinary Arts elective course was partnering up with the Science program to form a “Food Science” exhibition for the upcoming science fair. It was all going good. Actually, too good. I would eye up Toji every now and then but he was never looking at me, just looking at his phone. Mysteriously the vibrator was off for all of my speech. I was kind of glad, I didn't want to trip on my words or embarrass myself. However, things started to take a turn when parents started to ask to see me after class.

When Mr. Nanami, Yuuji’s foster dad, asked to see me after class. That was the moment I felt the vibration instantly turn on. It was slow, steady motions that started to relieve the tension I had going on. I said my goodbyes to all the parents, and when my lab was almost empty, since Toji refused to leave, Mr. Nanami went up to me. “Hey Ms.____ I was wondering if i could ask you something about Yuuji’s grades. You see, he’s having some trouble with math and since I know this course involves a lot of that i was wondering if you would be willing to tutor him. I would be paying, of course. It could be over at our home or we could meet up at some place of your choosing.”

I gave him a tiny smile, he was always so observant over Yuuji. “Of course! We can work something out. He always works my math out easily, I imagine it’s because I try my best to break everything down before giving it to them. Thanks for your concern on Yuuji. He’s a bright kid, he’s in good hands.” I put my hand on top of his to give him security, and in that instant I felt how the vibrator just jumped in velocity. It was hard, inconsistent and just random and all over the place. I contained myself from yelping and decided to shift in my seat instead. When I looked over at Toji there he was, man-spreading in all of his glory swiping his phone in different directions as he looked intensely at how my hand rested in top of Nanami’s.

Nanami ended the conversation shortly, handing me his business card that contained his contact information so we could set up the meetings and left quickly, not forgetting to wave at Toji at the end of the room. Toji stood up, and waved him a tiny goodbye as he walked towards me. Long, slow steps making small clacks across the marbled floor. He looked at his phone once more and swiped up, leaving the vibrator at the highest speed as I tried to shush the moans that escaped my mouth. Eventually giving in as i sat in my comfy chair.

“I told you I would behave if you were a good girl. But you just had to make me jealous, didn’t you?”

Masterlist

part 2, part 3

[gracieheartspedro]

I Can See You

fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

Hi friends! It's been awhile (:

I am back to writing! This time, I'm planning on having many parts to this story. It's a DBF Joel Miller story, which I love to read, which means I had to write it, right?

I wrote this with no Y/N, instead each character gives her a nickname/pet name.

So here's Part 1, I really hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: DBF! Joel, age gap-ish (reader is 25, Joel is 39), eventual smut, joel being a little bit of a perv, reader not having a filter, alcohol consumption

“Mornin’,” His Southern accent was even deeper than usual. My head peaks up from behind my computer, noticing his very tired eyes. The bags under his eyes still somehow did him justice. 

“Mornin’ Joel,” I mutter before taking a sip of my coffee. I watch as he finds his way towards my bosses office. He was only my boss at work, but at home he was just Dad. 

I watch his ass move in his jeans, shamelessly. 

Finding your coworker hot is one thing, it’s another when it’s also your dad’s friend and he was about 20 years older than you. 

I’ve thought Joel Miller was quite the looker since I was about 18. I had just started working for my dad. I was mainly just scheduling and doing work orders. Joel took me out to a work site one day, on my father’s request. He wanted me to get know some of the people who would be scheduling work from us. I got to sit around with the property manager of an apartment complex in a tight black dress in the dead of summer, watching guys replace windows. While outside that day, Joel worked alongside some of the laborers, his tanned skin and shaggy dark hair glistening with sweat. Something about him doing manual labor turned me on. Something awoke in me that day, and ever since then, I thirst over him in silence. 

I catch myself looking a bit too long, quickly averting my eyes to my computer screen. I act like I am typing something, glancing over to Joel and my dad walking out of his office together. They are discussing another project that Joel was overseeing that would keep him very busy in the upcoming months. 

“My girl here will be starting back at college in the fall, so she will only be part time for awhile,” My dad says, drawing attention to me. 

“Oh really, where ya going?” 

I blank out completely for a moment.

“UT Austin,” I finally answer.

“Smart girl, you living on campus?”

“Nope, just getting my master’s in Engineering so living from home makes the most sense.”

Joel shakes his head, “Master’s. Didn’t you just graduate high school?”

“I’m 25, Joel.”

His eyes scan me for a moment, realizing I’m much older than he remembers. 

“Ha,” He grumbles, “Time flies huh, Steve?”

“Sure does, you just wait for that Sarah of yours is off to college,” My dad laughs, slapping Joel’s shoulder. I wince, realizing again he has a young daughter. It wasn’t ideal, to say the least. 

“We got about 5 years on that,” Joel says, his eyes returning to mine, “Well it’ll be nice havin’ you around during our busy season.”

“Happy to help,” I reply, not really meaning it. 

“Hey, Joel, you and Sarah making an appearance at our BBQ this weekend? We invited the whole neighborhood and I can’t remember if you told me you’d be there.”

His eyes are still on me, “Yeah, I’ll be there,” his eyes return to my dad’s, “Just me and Tommy though, Sarah is goin’ over to a friend’s house.”

“Can’t wait!” My dad cheers, “Baby girl, can you make sure my schedule is cleared Friday evening so I don’t have to worry about when I can get the meat?”

“Of course, dad,” I grit my teeth, “I’m on it.”

-

“Hey baby girl, can you go grab me some extra plates?” 

My dad was over the top with his BBQs to say the very least. The whole neighborhood was in on it. Steaks, burgers, hot dogs, chicken, the whole thing. I spent all morning getting the huge backyard and cabana ready for all our visitors. We usually had someone come over to do all the setting up, but Dad made sure to remind me that I was living rent free and being paid on his payroll, so setting up was the least I could do. 

People littered the pool and backyard. I weave between people, giving smiles and welcomes where I could.

I walk in to the kitchen, the cold AC air hitting my bare arms. Luckily, I was wearing shorts over my bikini shorts, or else the goose bumps would be up and down my legs, too. I begin searching the cabinets for the large serving plates you always used for big gatherings. Leaning down, my triangle bikini top almost lets my boobs loose. I sit up straight, messing with the knots on my back. I knew tightening it could only help so much.

“Need help?” I almost jump out of my skin. I turn quickly, spotting Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with me.

“Shit, you fucking scared me,” I breathe loudly, patting my chest to make my heart stop racing, “I think I can get it.”

“Mhm,” He sticks a tooth pick between his teeth, “Lemme help, girl.”

God he was so fine. I hated myself for having a crush on him. But the domestic and simple gray t-shirt that hugged his arms so well and the blue jeans? I simply could not resist staring. 

No chance in hell. But I got to look at him every day and imagine it. 

I turn on my heels, holding the ties out to him so he could tie them. 

“I need them tighter,” I mutter, “Don’t want these puppies falling out in front of the Adlers.”

“Don’t want to excite Mr. Adler too much, he may have himself a heart attack.”

I smile to myself, biting my lip. He ties it, his fingers grazing my bare back slightly. 

“All good now, girl,” I turn to face him, looking up at him through my eyelashes, “Now what were you lookin’ for?”

“Serving plates,” I explain, “Dad is finishing up those steaks, needs more space.”

“Well let’s get ‘em and head out to all the fun,” He says, ducking down to the cabinet I was looking in originally. He finds them, handing them up to me. He looks so good looking up at me from this angle. 

“You want to grab us some beers,” I suggest, “I’ll meet you out there?”

“Your dad runnin’ low?”

“Probably, so grab three.”

–

“So, you going to be here all summer?”

I had no interest in talking to Tommy, but he was keeping me from toeing the line with Joel in my drunken state, so here I am. I sit in my lounger chair, wanting so bad to take off my jean shorts. I knew if I did, Tommy would take it as I’m making a pass, so I sweat extra. 

“I’m starting college in August, so yeah I’ll be around the office and staying home.”

He smiles, “Good to hear, love seeing you around.”

I smile back faking a cheery laugh, “Thanks, Tommy… care to grab me another beer?”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

I watch him walk away before searching the crowd for Joel. I spot him across the yard, talking to one of the newer neighbors. A single mom who moved in two months ago. My dad kept joking the other night that he’d be making her my stepmom, which only made me gag. She was beautiful, younger than my dad, but just about Joel’s age. 

A pang of jealousy rises within me. 

Joel finally catches my wandering eyes. He smiles gently, giving me a nod.

“Here, darling,” Tommy says sweetly, “Need anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” Your brother, “Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, ‘s up?”

I sit up, leaning over making my boobs hang right in his eye line. 

If I couldn’t keep one Miller’s attention, maybe I could snag second best. My beer filled brain thinks about how they are cut from the same cloth, so they both are probably good at this. 

“Do you want to help me change a lightbulb?”

He raises his eyebrows, “I guess, where at?”

I smirk, “My bedroom.”

We sneak away, my eyes scanning the area. It didn’t appear as anyone was following us. My room was the last room on the left upstairs, so the anticipation as I guided him down the hallway was killing me.

Ever since Joel grazed my back earlier, I’ve been ready. So fucking ready. 

“Are we actually changing a lightbulb?”

I open my door for him, gesturing to him to follow me in.

In the dim light, Tommy was very cute. He was a sweet guy and I knew he’d be the first to jump on my idea. 

“You tell me,” I say, starting to untie the knot Joel tied. In my moment of trying to be sexy, I realize Joel tied the stupidest and hardest knot ever. Tommy notices my struggle, reaching around me, frantically trying to get the top off.

As it gets loose, I reach up to grab his neck.

“What the fuck is going on ‘ere?” 

His voice freezes me. Tommy looks towards the door in horror.

“Joel-“

“Tommy, you fucking know better,” His voice is so intimidating and scary, I cant even muster the courage to turn around, “Git.”

Tommy gives me eyes saying I’m so sorry, and I just stare blankly at my wall. I hear Tommy’s foot steps run down the stairs. I realize how drunk I am because my wall paper begins to move on it’s own. It doesn’t usually do that. 

“Now you,” His stride towards me is quick, “I’m not your Dad, but don’t think he’d like you fucking his employees.”

Maybe it was the liquid courage, “Who said I was trying to fuck him?”

I snap my head towards his stern and impossible to read face.

“Bullshit,” He spits, “He got through my knot, he assumed somethin’ was about to happen.”

“Well, even if that’s where it went, why are you putting your nose in our business?”

He chuckles darkly, “So now it’s ours, huh? I have you know, girl, Tommy’s business is my business. And you’re just makin’ my job hard.”

I tiptoe closer to him, “And what’s your job, again, Mr. Miller?”

“Make sure people are behavin’ themselves.”

I realize what he’s doing. My tipsy mind took a second to search his face for more, but I can't read him at all. 

“I’m behaving, Mr. Miller. I promise,” I reach up, touching his jaw, “No more funny business.”

It was the closest I had ever got to him. I felt a rush just touching him.

“Good, get your top back on and come down to the party. Your dad is looking for you.”

I look down at myself as he leaves the room. My fucking tits are out, and he didn’t even look down.

The game he was playing was not the same one I was playing.

–

The next morning, I have a pounding headache and no drive to leave my room. I was embarrassed and horrified. I knew I would have to face Joel and Tommy on Monday morning, so I had to make amends beforehand. I really didn’t want them to tell my dad and I was pretty out of line for trying to fuck Tommy when Joel wasn't giving me the attention my drunk ass thought I deserved.

After spending hours in bed, rolling back and forth thinking of a script to say, I figured that honesty is the best policy. 

Well, honesty with a little bend in the truth. 

I get showered and dressed. My usual summer time outfit was a crop top and short shorts, but today I needed to be more… conservative. 

I find a nice summery dress, that went to midthigh. It was yellow, not a lot cleavage, floral. Innocent. 

When I get downstairs, my dad sits in the living room, his feet propped up watching the news. 

“Where ya going, baby girl?” 

“I’m going for a walk,” I lie. 

“Wearing that?”

“Yes,” I nod quickly, “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

He shakes his head, “No, have fun, I guess.”

I could tell he was suspicious, but he wasn’t one to pester me too much. He had high expectations for me, but I always exceeded them. He never questioned me too much, unless it was about school. He didn’t even really care about my love life. He always got excited when I told him I was going on dates in college. I mean, I rather him be excited than bother me about the guys I was seeing.

I start my journey to Joel’s. I didn’t even know if he was home or not, I was going on blind faith.

It was hot as shit and I was not fully prepared to walk to his house in a dress and sandals. 

I could’ve just driven there and back. But no, I decided to roast in the hot summer sun.

–

When I arrive to his house, I just kind of stand in his driveway, catching my breath. He was home, his truck was here. 

I walk to the front door, knocking first then ringing the door bell. 

It takes about minute, but he gets the door. 

And he’s shirtless. 

It was the worst and best moment of my entire life. 

“What are you doing here?”

And it’s not quite the response I was anticipating when I arrived at his door. 

“I uh-,” I hear some stirring inside the house, which causes me to peak my head past Joel’s shoulder. 

I see movement, but my eyes find Joel’s again before I could focus in on it. He pushes me back a bit, coming outside and shutting the door behind him. 

“I came to apologize, but you seem busy.”

He shakes his head, “Not busy, just woke up.”

“With someone?”

What the fuck? Why can’t I shut my mouth?

“Pardon me?”

“Well I walked this whole way to apologize about my inappropriate behavior yesterday,” I explain, “But yeah, that’s it.”

The door creaks open and I am wholeheartedly anticipating a hot MILF or something. But instead, it’s a little girl. 

“Sarah, get inside!”

“Oh hi, I know you!”

I smile at the girl. She was cute, I had to admit. She looked a bit like Joel, mainly the smile. A smile I wasn’t too familiar with, because he wasn’t too keen on my jokes. Ever.

“Yeah, I work with your dad,” I explain, “Nice to see you, Sarah.”

“You too, do you want to have lunch with us?”

“Sarah she can’t st-” 

“I’d love to, only if your dad says it’s okay.”

He got himself in a pickle, but I was aching to have a conversation that didn’t involve me putting my foot in my mouth like I almost did again. Plus, some food and water would help the heatstroke I felt coming on.

He stares at me, almost like he wished I’d disappear, “Of course, come in. Sarah is making sandwiches.”

“I hope you like turkey and cheese!”

—

“Thanks for the sandwich, Sarah,” I say, wiping my face making sure I didn’t have mustard left over.

She smiles with her mouth full, “You’re welcome!”

“Hey Sarah, why don’t you go get ready for swim practice,” He suggests, “Me and your new best friend need to have an adult conversation.”

She looks up at him annoyed, “I guess, but don’t scare her away. She has a cool pool I want to swim in.”

I laugh out loud, “Yeah, don’t scare me away, Joel.”

He doesn’t laugh, he just looks at me with his lazer eyes. I just wish Sarah a farewell and shut my mouth, waiting for the storm. He stirs, eating another bite of his sandwich. 

“So you came to apologize, huh?”

I swallow, “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry for my inappropriate behavior. I had one too many yesterday.”

He nods, “Yeah you were practically falling out of that top of yours before you took Tommy upstairs. Surprised you didn’t have it off before then.”

My eyes widen, “Well that’s humiliating.”

“Don’t think anyone was particularly mad about it,” He says, “Maybe one of those neighborhood watch moms, but who cares about ‘em?”

I can’t help but smirk. Was he insinuating that he wasn’t mad about almost seeing my boobs?

“Yeah, they always give me the most disgusted looks when I’m out jogging.”

“Cause’ they miss bein’ young and beautiful,” He explains, “All their husbands stare, too.”

I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this, I find myself leaning in a bit to try to talk quieter. It seems like this is conversation we should be whispering to each other.

“Do you stare?”

Foot. In. Mouth. 

He smirks, giggling a bit. I finally got to see him smile.

“Of course, I do.”

----

Hehehehe tell me what you think! I'll be back with part 2 soon!

[national-hockey-gay]

being disabled and having a support system is so important because it turns mundane (and often frustrating) tasks into acts of love.

everytime i clip my nails, i think of the high school teacher who helped me through seizures at least once a week for two years straight. everyday she’d gently take my hands and inspect my nails to make sure i was keeping them short enough that i couldn’t hurt myself while seizing.

it’s easier to be less ashamed of my mobility aids when one of my coworkers spent months building me different canes to use, colored to match my outfits and infused with glow-in-the-dark dye so i’d stop losing my cane in the dark parts of the building.

i eat cheesitz for salt when i’m feeling dizzy and it reminds me of high school, sitting next to my best friend and in the classroom of my favorite teacher who both kept salty snacks in their bags for when i wasn’t feeling good.

being disabled can suck in so many ways, but it’s also brought love into a lot of simple but impactful areas of my life.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for using racism to get away from the dude crushing on me?

This happened last year, but my friend group still tells me it was a messed up thing to do and part of me agrees with them, while the other part doesn’t know what else I could have done.

I (F17, white) have always been the quiet, weird, fat girl in school. I have never dated, even though people would regularly ask me out as a dare, or do the whole “my friend has a crush on you” thing to embarrass their friends. I got used to the idea that no one would ever really wanna date me, at least not in high school, and that anyone who asked me out was trying to trick me. But that was fine, I’m content with the friends I’ve made of my fellow social rejects and weirdos.

Last year a guy (black, M17 at the time) joined our friend group and started coming to anime club with us. He was quiet and weird, but then again we all were, so I was nice to him and assumed he’d open up when he was comfortable. And he did start opening up, but I went from thinking he was just shy to having a weird feeling about him. Like, no guys have ever been into me enough for me to develop a creep meter, but when I described the feeling I got when he would just quietly stare at me from across the room to my female friends they said “girl, that’s your creep meter going off”.

He would just silently stare at me for hours, if no one interrupted him. At my chest, my feet, and my crotch specifically. One day he told me he was in love with me. Not liked me, not had a crush on me, he was in love with me. And he wanted my phone number. Of course I was uncomfortable, and didn’t believe for a second he really liked me. No one likes me. They just pretend to because it’s funny. I politely told him I was only interested in being friends, and he just said “ok” and asked for my phone number again. I gave it to him because I didn’t know how to politely say no to that, and asked him to wait till the weekend to text me because my dad doesn’t like me texting on school nights (a lie, I just wanted to mentally prepare myself for texting with him). He said ok.

I was still riding the bus home when he started blowing up my phone with texts. Nothing heinous, just telling me I was pretty and asking about school and anime. I ignored him, and he started calling instead. I had to turn my phone off because I was starting to panic after 20 texts and 7 calls.

The next day a couple of my friends asked why I didn’t text them back and I told them I had to turn my phone off because he didn’t listen when I asked him to wait before contacting me, and they told me some disturbing rumors about him. That he has a fetish for fat girls. That he’s on probation for stalking and harassment. That he had to leave his last school because a girl got a restraining order. That I’m not the first girl he’s done this to at our school either. I followed up on that last one and got confirmation there: two other girls in my school told me he had come on to them too, and only because they were fat. I immediately blocked his number and stopped going to anime club and avoided him in the halls.

But even with me going out of my way to not see him he would still pop up. He would be waiting outside my classroom to talk to me. He would sit with me at lunch. He even got transferred to my chorus class (I have no way of confirming if he did that on purpose or not). He kept asking why I wasn’t texting him back or answering his calls, (because I had blocked him), I said I’m just shy talking on the phone. He asked why I took a different route to class everyday (because I was trying to avoid him), I just said I liked exploring the school.

I tried asking him, politely, to tone his behavior down some because he was scaring me. Nothing changed. I flat out reminded him I already said I wasn’t interested in him. Nothing changed. I told him truthfully that I wasn’t getting his dozens of calls and messages because it was too much and I blocked his number, and he started texting me from a different number instead. I told a teacher and he said he just wanted to be my friend. I told the guidance counselor and she said she would talk to him, but he didn’t stop.

So finally one day, at the end of my rope, I told him I told my racist dad he was harassing me. That’s all. That my dad was racist, and would never accept me dating a black boy, and that I told my dad he wouldn’t leave me alone. He immediately backed off and, as far as I know, moved on to another girl.

Most of my friends were there to watch him hang around me like a lost puppy and stare at me inappropriately, so they don’t blame me for wanting to get away from him. But they also say it was a dick move to bring racism into it. I think they may be right, but I sincerely couldn’t think of any other way to get rid of him myself. AITA?

What are these acronyms?