#so last night when they were zooming in on his hands i was like girl………

[annarubys]

i am so enraptured by the way patrick stump plays the piano. who taught him how to hold his hands like that and how is that a functional method for him

[xothatnerdykid]

what's love got to do with it?

The students and teachers alike at UA High can't help but notice the strange behavior of the typically stern and stoic teacher of Class 1-A. They come up with all sorts of theories but soon discover the even more surprising truth: Aizawa-sensei is simply falling in love. Fluffy Aizawa x fem!reader drabble. SFW. 2,828 words.

The way everyone looks at him when he walks in, you’d think he’d grown a second head or something.

Aizawa glances up from his phone after reading a sweet little text from you, greeting him good morning and wishing him a good day at work, only to find every student's wide-eyed, unblinking attention focused solely on him.

One second, they were all happily chattering, and then, the next…

"Hmm? What?" He asks his class offhandedly, throwing his things on the table and taking his usual seat.

But instead of answering him, the whole room erupts into a whispered frenzy.

"Did you see that? Did he just...?"

"No way! Must have been a trick of the light or something."

"What the heck? I feel so unnerved. Llike we just spotted a UFO or something.”

“You guys saw it too, right? Are we all just collectively hallucinating?”

"Oi!" He calls their attention. "Would anyone care to tell me what it is exactly that's gotten all of you so worked up this morning?"

Stunned silence falls over Class 1-A again, and Aizawa can’t help but cross his arms and sigh. “Iida? Yaoyorozu? What’s going on?”

He doesn’t miss the way the class president and vice-president exchange a hesitant look before Iida answers him. 

“Apologies, sensei!” He hastily gets up to bow. “I will personally make sure everyone quiets down.” He zooms around the room and gestures frantically at his noisy classmates to settle down.

Bemused by their commotion, Aizawa observes them all carefully. What could’ve caused such a stir? He wonders. And why are they all so reluctant to tell him? Did he have a piece of spinach in his teeth or something? A quick glance downwards tells him he didn’t forget to wear pants or shoes or anything, so what was it?

“If I may, sensei?” Yaoyorozu raises her hand and he nods at her. “I think everyone was just a little distracted by your change in demeanor today."

He furrows his eyebrows at the young girl. "What change?"

"Well, we’ve never seen you smile before. Or at least, not like that.”

He blinks in surprise. He’d been smiling when he walked into class this morning? "What about it?"

"Well, sir," Iida adds, taking his seat once everyone's finally settled down. "It's quite an uncommon sight. Naturally, they were taken aback."

“You usually only smile when you’re giving us a tough time in exams or training exercises, sensei.”

The corners of Aizawa’s mouth twitch upwards at that, which he quickly covers up with a small cough. “Well, enough of that. Let’s get on with today’s lesson, shall we?”

Everyone straightens up to listen as their homeroom teacher goes over a few important announcements. And although he isn’t smiling anymore, Class 1-A doesn't miss the way his usually sharp gaze has grown soft and almost...fond as he speaks to them.

As soon as the homeroom bell rings, Aizawa dismisses them with an absent-minded wave of his hand and takes out his phone to text you: Do I really never smile?

You smile when you’re rounding up bad guys sometimes. You reply almost right away. Or when you see a cat.

He chuckles. Apparently I also do it when I’m torturing my students. Then…Or when I’m texting you.

You send back a little cat emoji, and the grin you get after reading that doesn't leave your face for the rest of the day.

_________________________________________

“Shouta! Helloooo? I said Earth to Shouta?” Kayama waves her hand in Aizawa’s face.

It seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in. “Sorry, what?” He blinks up at her.

She gives Yamada a look. “What’s with him today?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs, then turns to his friend. “Hey buddy, didn’t get any sleep again last night or something?”

You could say that, Aizawa thinks to himself with a smirk, then hastily scolds his features into their usually stoic expression. “No. Why?”

Kayama raises an eyebrow at him. “You've just been acting a little...off. Distracted, maybe?”

"Nothing to worry about," Aizawa reassures them, dismissing their concerns with a wave of his hand. He goes back to observing his students closely in the hopes of them moving past the subject, but Kayama and Yamada aren’t convinced. Anyone looking at him could tell something was different today.

“Sensei?” Kirishima hesitantly calls out to him. “I’m having a little trouble with my balance. Could you show me that move again?”

Aizawa nods, and everyone’s jaw just about drops to the floor when he demonstrates the proper stance with uncharacteristic patience. 

"Remember to be mindful of where you shift your weight," He guides Kirishima through the motions with a supportive tone, a stark departure from his normally gruff and no-nonsense approach. "And keep your focus. You'll get it."

Kirishima does as he’s told and looks to his teacher for feedback.

"No, adjust your stance a bit like this. Yes, that's it. Great improvement," Aizawa says, offering a rare compliment. 

Flabbergasted, the red-haired boy manages a stuttering, "Th-Thank you, sensei," before Aizawa moves on to help the next student. 

Observing everything from afar, Kayama leans over to Yamada and whispers, “He didn’t get a concussion on that last mission, did he? I've never seen him like this."

“Check what was in his coffee a while ago. And if he still has more — oof, it was just a joke!”

_________________________________________

“Okay, enough is enough!” Mina bursts into the room, dramatically crying. “I have to know!”

“Know what?” Kirishima asks as the others start to gather around her.

“What’s going on with Aizawa sensei? I saw him on the way here — he’s wearing a buttoned up shirt.”

There’s a collective gasp.

“Are you sure?” Momo asks.

Mina nods frantically. “And it was freshly pressed, too!”

Another round of gasps.

“And his hair was tied up!” The pink girl all but weeps, throwing herself onto the nearest desk.

“What do you think is going on with him?” Deku rubs his chin thoughtfully.

“He’s been acting so weird lately!” Uraraka whines.

As if on cue, Aizawa walks in. “Good morning, class,” he greets them without his usual gruffness.

Everyone hurries back to their seats, but Mina leans over to grab Kaminari’s sleeve, screaming under her breath, “He said good morning!”

“Look at his eyes!” He points frantically. “No puffy, dark circles or redness at all! He actually looks well-rested for once!”

“That’s where I draw the line!” Kirishima almost slams his fist on his desk. “We have to get to the bottom of this.”

Sero joins them, “Do you think Mic sensei and Midnight sensei know anything?”

Kaminari shrugs, “It’s worth asking.”

“Maybe Aizawa sensei has a secret twin and he’s pulling a prank on us?” Deku contemplates.

Uraraka shakes her head, “Sensei? Pulling a prank? I doubt it. What if there’s a new teacher at UA with a shape-shifting quirk?”

“Or Shinsou brainwashed him into being in a good mood?” Jirou chimes in.

As they huddle and murmur, Todoroki and Tokoyami shoot them curious glances, and Iida has to shush them discreetly. 

They snap back to attention every time Aizawa faces them, pretending to listen to the lesson. But as soon as their sensei turns away again, the room buzzes with whispered speculation. 

And though he acts none the wiser, seemingly engrossed in the topic they're supposed to be discussing, Aizawa can't help his amusement listening to their outlandish theories. A small, smug part of him relishes stoking the fires of their confusion. 

He knew he'd have some explaining to do, but for now, he’s more than happy to just let  them wonder.

_________________________________________

“Oh, look who finally decided to show up!” is the first thing Mic says when he spots him. The colorful cocktail in his hand is practically empty, but he happily sips the fun loopy straw for whatever dredges he can anyway.

“Are you going to make me regret it?” Aizawa grumbles, taking his seat next to his friends.

But Mic and Midnight just snicker, unfazed. They’ve had years to get used to his grumpiness after all (and a few drinks to put them in a better mood). 

"We have to admit, Aizawa," Midnight smirks up at him. "We had an ulterior motive for asking you to come hang out tonight."

"Don't you always?" He deadpans, lazily chewing at the gyoza they ordered without him. Although he doesn’t show it, he’s pleased to see there’s already a whiskey neat waiting on the table for him. 

Midnight rolls her eyes as she slides it over to him, "Yeah, but aside from just getting you to lighten up as usual."

"And getting you to sing karaoke with us, which I still can't believe—"

"You promised me we'd never talk about it again,” Aizawa groans as he rubs his hand over his face. “And that you'd never let me get that drunk again.”

"Awww, come on, buddy," Yamada slings his arm around him. "What's the point of having a good story you can't tell?"

"Fine, but I'll deny it, so no one will believe you anyway."

"I don’t know,” Midnight sing-songs, swirling her margarita in its glass. “With the way you’ve been acting lately, they just might.”

He frowns at her. “Meaning?”

Mic grins, leaning forward with an impish glint in his eye, "Meaning we heard you've been keeping secrets from us, Aizawa."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really? Then would you care to tell us why you’ve been smiling so much lately?”

“Or who you’ve been trying to look nice for?”

Realizing they weren’t going to let this go easily, Aizawa sighs and takes a deep sip of his whiskey, the familiar warmth sliding down his throat. He's not one to discuss his personal life openly, even with his close friends, but there's something about their teasing that doesn't quite irk him tonight.

Aizawa tilts his head slightly, thoughtfully. "I'm just...happy, I suppose."

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Come on, buddy, you can tell us!” Mic nudges him playfully. 

“We want to know what’s got our favorite grump acting like a—" Midnight’s hands quickly fly up to cover her gasp. 

“Like a what?” Mic gives her a puzzled look, but Aizawa’s shoulders tense up at the glint in her eyes. That look usually meant very bad things for him. 

“Like a lovesick puppy!” She grabs Mic’s arm, excitedly slapping it before shaking Aizawa’s shoulders and squealing into his ear. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re in love!”

Aizawa chokes on his drink, and Mic pats him on the back to ease his coughing fit.

"Real smooth, Kayama,” he teases her.

"Sorry, but I couldn't resist," Midnight pouts, the twinkle of amusement still shining bright in her eyes.

Aizawa wipes his mouth and sets his glass down with a sigh. “Well, if you must know…There is…someone I’ve been spending time with.”

"Someone!" His friends chorus, delighted.

Mic nudges him gently. “Well? Don’t leave us in suspense!”

"Who is it? Do we know them?" Midnight leans forward, giggling.

Aizawa looks down at his glass for a moment, contemplating how much he should reveal. Although he feels a little overwhelmed by their excitement and their scrutiny, he also secretly relishes the joy of sharing this part of his life with his closest friends. 

It feels good, he thinks, to be around them and to know that they care so much about him. And though he’s never been one to discuss his personal affairs, he trusts these two enough to share the parts of himself he usually kept guarded. 

Seeing the expectant looks on their faces, eagerly awaiting his answer, Aizawa's ears turn the faintest shade of red. 

“Do you want to meet her?” 

_________________________________________

"Had a fun night?" You greet your boyfriend with a hug when he shows up at your door well past a reasonable hour.

You don't miss the small smile on his face when he takes off his shoes. "Actually, I did. But Yamada and Kayama were pretty insistent on meeting you." 

"You told them about me?" you respond, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. 

He nods, not quite meeting your gaze. "I think they'd like you."

"Really?" You plop down on the couch with him and stretch your legs atop his lap. 

"Yeah," He gently grazes your thigh. "They were wondering why I've been acting so differently lately."

"Like what?"

"Apparently I'm smiling more and acting nicer and" — He air quotes — “Stopped looking homeless."

You laugh. "And what did you say?"

He shrugs, “That I guess my girlfriend just makes me really happy.”

“Awww,” you pat his cheek playfully. “What’s next? You gonna tell me you’re in love with me or something?”

"Yes? I thought it was obvious?"

"What?" Your heart skips a beat at his nonchalant admission.

“Hmm?” He looks over, and seeing the evident surprise on your face makes Aizawa chuckle. "I thought I'd been making it pretty clear, but I suppose I should say it outright. Yes, I'm in love with you."

Your heart flutters at his words, a warmth spreading through you. "Well, for someone who's known for being so straightforward, you sure took your time saying that."

He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a soft, lingering kiss on your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby.”

You lean in closer, your lips almost touching his. “Alright,” you look up at him with a sleepy smile and half-lidded eyes. “I’m waiting.”

"I love you," he whispers, his voice low and tender. He places a gentle kiss on your nose. “I love you,” and then another on your cheeks…“I love you.”

He gently brushes his lips against yours, cupping your jaw so you can’t help but gaze deeply into his dark, smoky eyes before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Mhhm.” You smile, contentment washing over you like a gentle wave. "I love you, too, baby."

[seratopia]

miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - intoxicated → she/her pronouns!

modern ceo au! what happens when miguel is drunk

It's extremely rare when Miguel goes out to drink with coworkers, it's rare enough when Miguel gets out to go anywhere in general. He's either cooped up in his office, glued to his work, or glued to you at home.

You suggested to Miguel earlier this week about getting out to a bar, along with a few of the other higher-ups of the company. It's healthy to get out, you said, even if all he's going to be doing is drinking alcohol and eating meat.

Miguel's only good with people in a more professional sense; he's not the best at being all buddy-buddy with people he usually works with. He's quiet the entire time he's at the bar, occasionally taking a bored nibble at a bowl of loaded fries.

He kind of regrets this; surrounded by loud music, loud people, TV's with sports games playing in the background. He just misses you, he wants to come home and make food with you.

One of his coworkers, nudged him in the side a bit, obviously gesturing towards the wide array of various drinks and juices.

"Might as well have a drink while you're at it." He says, and Miguel is just stone-faced the entire time. The man walks away towards the remaining group of coworkers, possibly to either go dance, or to stare at girls from afar.

Considerably, it's been a while since he's had a drink. One or two wouldn't hurt, especially as a last minute scrounge for enjoyment in this god-awful bar.

Slowly, Miguel nurses on a drink provided by a suspiciously sleek bartender, leaning his cheek into his palm whilst taking a couple sips. He can feel the wolfish eyes of various women & men staring at him, feeling somehow exposed in his tight white button-up and simple pants. If only you were here, to sit in his lap and run your little hands against his chest.

The thought makes his head spin, a violent hot warmth running up his cheeks, his mind being blurred like a smudge on someone's reading glasses. The room's almost tilting sideways, the thoughts in his head dissolving away. (miguelito is a lightweight because i say so)

Miguel's drunk, for the first time in literal years.

He doesn't like it; he feels out of control of his body, unable to think or function correctly. He feels like a different person entirely, his eyes replaced with jelly and the tips of his ears turning scarlet.

The drink tasted good and all, but Miguel's thoughts on you feel magnified, every feature, every action you do running through his head like a cassette tape. He misses you more, and he really wants to see you.

Cleverly, he pulls out his phone, sighing to himself on the counter. It takes him a moment to put in his phone password correctly, fingers drunkenly tapping on the screen until he can find your contact.

. . .

You receive a text notification at about 9:43. Expectedly, you knew Miguel probably wouldn't make it through the whole night, but you're proud of him for trying. You open up your phone, amidst watching a show in bed.

miguelito💞💓: My love, I am intoxicated.

The text makes you giggle a little, imagining him all red-faced and tripping over himself with his coworkers.

Conveniently, you receive another text, one from the person you asked to keep an eye on Miguel.

It's a picture of Miguel with his head leaned against the counter, lovingly zooming in on a picture of your face with his phone. His ears are red, and there's a half-drunken drink beside him.

james q: he says he misses you. want me to take him home? you: it's okay, thanks tho. i'll be there in 10 to get him. james q: 👍

Assuming Miguel's still on his phone, you shoot him a text.

you: i see u looking at me

You giggle to yourself, and Miguel is visibly both shocked and excited, peering left to right as if you were magically in the bar.

miguelito💞💓: Please pick me up. I hate it here. you: ok sweetie, be there in 10

. . .

Despite the hour, the bar is bustling as ever, populated with underage girls wearing slip dresses and drunk frat boys. You worm through the building, searching left and right for your husband through the cacophonous bar.

Finally, you spot him where the counter is, big head tucked into crossed arms.

Gently, you slip your hand onto his shoulder, warmly rubbing him awake. At first he flinches, staring at you as if you were a stranger. He relaxes a few seconds later, lovingly and drunkenly fixating on you.

"Hey hun, I'm here to take you home." You say, and Miguel feels so warm, so comforted in contrast to the rash environment of the pub. He wants to kiss you, but he's too drunk to focus.

Without a word, Miguel rises from his bar stool, arms and hands immediately inching around your shoulders. He doesn't realize it, but he's pressing more of his body weight onto you, leaning on top of you like a slug.

Seeing you roll away the finest, sexiest piece of man as if it were nothing makes the party around you fume, their thoughts of asking for a number shattered within a minute or two.

Miguel trails after you, gluing himself to your back as you maneuver yourself out of the stuffy bar. Finally, you're out in the cool air of the dark, muffled edm music booming from the block's other counterparts.

The sidewalk is somewhat barren, scattered with a few people smoking or walking.

"I missed you, s'much." Miguel slurs, seeing the outline of your car in the dark parking lot.

"I know you did, baby. Now you get to come home with me and we can do whatever you want, like we promised." You say, unlocking your car with the press of your key.

He smiles just a teensy bit, his heart warming at the thought of snuggling up to you in bed, or cooking a late-night meal of sorts with you while a show plays in the background.

Miguel's the passenger princess tonight, adjusting the seat backwards so he can actually sit. He stares at you the entire time through bleary eyes, watching you start the car as if it were the most artistic and most beautiful thing ever.

"I love you." Miguel says, and you can feel the gratuity in his voice.

"I love you too."

© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.

[cordeliawhohung]

Going off of him calling reader his wife, Ps! Gaz whose highest rated video with his favorite girl is a "Honeymoon" night concept where it's basically a really romantic lovemaking video.

Their natural chemistry is perfect and the romance feels real; they even joke around a little and take things slow.

And that vid is what confirms for the fans that there's something going on between them that goes beyond the cameras.

- 🦴

part 237423849 of kore writing a drabble/one shot when she probably shouldn't have. not edited because my brain is fried? idk save me, pornstar!gaz, save me

It's late into the night when your phone screen illuminates your face.

A sleepless night quickly plagues you with a wandering mind that won't let go of the images that still haunt you from your last shoot with Kyle. The two of you have filmed countless times together, but there's something about this most recent one that refuses to let go of your mind. It overwhelms you so much that you've got your studio's porn site on your phone at nearly one in the morning. 

Usually, you hate watching the videos you perform in. It crosses an odd sort of boundary in your mind that makes you feel disgusted with yourself, but you can't help but watch the one you filmed with Kyle titled "Honeymoon Getaway." Before the video even starts, you notice the ratings. Tens of thousands of people have watched the video already, and it was only edited and published five days ago. The ratings are all positive, thousands of thumbs ups and bookmarks.

Your teeth sink into your lip once the video starts. Both you and Kyle are dressed in your "wedding" attire; a well fitted suit with the jacket removed for him, and a white slip that covers your bridal lingerie for you. It's... sensual. The way he kisses you. And really fucking weird watching it from a third person perspective. You vividly remember his breath against your face and the way his hand caressed your cheek, but it's not what you're looking for, so you skip ahead. 

When the video loads the next portion, Kyle's face is buried in your cunt. The angle they filmed it at is nothing compared to the view you had in real life. The way he kissed the side of your knee, keeping eye contact with you for as long as he could as he kissed all the way down your thigh until his tongue was on your clit… it’s a sensation that ghosts along the inside of your legs even as you lay there in bed. 

But the video? Fuck, it’s terrible. Focusing more on the side view, obscuring his pretty face with your thigh. At this point, you’re ready to take the camera and film everything from a first person point of view next time you film with Kyle. 

But that’s besides the point. You’re looking for something else. 

Once again, you skip ahead and the sound of your laughter emanates from the speakers on your phone. Kyle, who had been hovering over your body, had quickly rolled you on top of him, switching your spots. It was done so effortlessly, and you try your best not to gawk at the way his muscles flex as you straddle him.

"Kyle," your voice whines over the speakers.

"Better view this way," is all he responds.

You hate it. Hate the way he makes your stomach churn just from a video alone. It almost churns worse than it did when you were really filming with him, pretending to be love-struck newlyweds fucking one another in an expensive hotel room.

You skip forward again, a significant distance this time, and Kyle has you pinned to the bed on your back. With his hands underneath your knees, you're nearly kissing them as he ruts into you. You try not to pay too much attention as the camera pans to a view of your cunt sucking him in like the good little wife you pretended to be.

Luckily, you're not stuck watching it for too long before the film shoots over Kyle's shoulders, showcasing the way your tits bounce at his relentless pace. You grimace when they zoom in, but it's not much longer before you finally find what you were searching for.

"My sweet wife. I love you so fuckin' much."

You sit up straight the moment you find it, and your fingers are scrambling to rewind so you can hear him again. The breathlessness of his voice, the lilt in his tone. It feels like gold on your ears, yet it has your heart shredding into pieces in your chest. It feels real. Too real.

But it can't last forever.

You pause the video, ceasing the sound of your moans and Kyle's fake confession. Everything spins around you when you look up from the screen and at the darkness of your room. Lonely. So fucking lonely and cold. You shake your head as you look back at your phone, and you decide to make the terrible mistake of sleuthing through the comments.

The idea of it all, was finding something that would turn you off so that you could forget it all and go back to sleep. And there were plenty of disgusting comments:

>> need a submissive wife like this

>> great tits

>> too soft with her. you need to learn to put your bitch in place the first night.

It should have been enough. You should have stopped there, but you don't. You can't stop scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. It's a vicious cycle that you can't stop, and you're stuck reading every single comment and speculation from anyone who still had living brain cells after jerking off to your video. Each and every one of them destroy you more than the last:

>> I feel like i'm ruining a special moment lmao

>> there's no way these two aren't together irl what the fuck

>> can't wait to see these two on OF together when they realize they don't want to fuck anyone else lol

>> nah, they really snuck in a whole crew on their actual honeymoon that's dedication

>> he sounds like he's about to cry when he says he loves her

You shut your phone off and fight the urge to toss it across the room as you slam yourself back against your mattress. All you want to do is sleep but your chest aches so furiously that it's all you can focus on. Everything feels so real with Kyle, and it's not fair that he's always out of your grasp. Always teasing you with the promise of fucking you off camera, of looking at you like you're the only woman in the world.

A tremble begins in your bottom lip as you shove your face into your pillow. Kyle Garrick is going to be the death of you, you're sure of it. Judging by the tears that soak your pillow that night, you know it's not going to be a kind death, either.

[starkeyisthelastname]

@rvfecamerons has asked me to write this amazing idea she came up with. I hope this didn’t disappoint. Thank you again babe! 💕💕💕

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

You had never really been much of a troublemaker, always listening to your elders and being respectful to everyone, even those less fortunate than you. After you turned 19, you started to become more independent. Going out to parties, taking trips to the mainland to shop by yourself, and even to her dismay, talking to boys.

Rafe had been the one to suggest getting the AirTag to put in your car. He wanted you to always be safe and to ease her worries, at least that's what he told his wife. The real reason being much darker than that. He had been sickly obsessed with you since the moment he laid eyes on your pretty self. No boy was going to touch you as long as he had control of it, and getting the AirTag installed was just the kind of control he needed.

For the last month, he had been stalking everywhere you went through the handy app on his phone. Even got in his own car and drove by a few places to check and see if the damn thing was working. Your innocent little self didn’t suspect a thing either, which is what made you so naive to the situation.

It had been like any other night. Your mother and you had gone out to dinner while Rafe worked late. She being oblivious to the fact you were texting your guy friend, who had invited you over. She never thought you would actually sneak out, you were too much of a sweetheart to do that. It was much to her surprise though, when your room was empty and car was gone at 1:00 in the morning. She immediately thought of the AirTag, Rafe had installed a moth prior, running back to their shared room.

This was the moment he had been waiting for. To catch you being the little slut he knew you were. The GPS on, he zoomed towards your location until the icy white Mercedes with a bedazzled North Carolina tag came into view. The only car there. He shut the truck off, letting his muscular 6’2 frame stalk towards the door. His usual light blue eyes, turned pitch black as soon as he barged through the door. “Bozo’s” tongue down your throat as you laid on the couch.

Gripping the shirt, the boy wore, Rafe teared him off of you. His fist immediately connecting with the boy’s jaw. You sat still, in complete shock by multiple things. Your head was spinning, how did your step-dad find you? How did someone punch one time to have teeth falling out? You knew that your step-father had a violent past but to quite literally see the boy you liked getting beaten to death, had not only scared but something else. Something that made your princess parts tingle.

“Rafe.” You whispered, the boy you had been making out with now bruised and battered as your step-father towered above him.

One look up and Rafe’s hand was gripping your arm, yanking you off the couch. He took your keys and purse in the other, dragging you towards the still open door. You winced, trying to get out of his grip but ultimately failed as he literally threw you in the passenger seat of his truck.

The tires screeched as he sped off, zooming down the empty roads of Kildare. His jaw was tight, the vein in his forehead protruding as he boiled in anger. “I knew that innocent act you pull all the time was a load of shit.” His voice so low it made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“You think I’m stupid, huh? That I don’t know you are a fucking slut. You can hide it from your mom, but not from me. I could tell you were a slut from the moment I met you. Batting those ridiculous lashes at me.”

“Not a slut..” You mumbled, looking down. He was berating you with every sentence he spoke, his words nasty and degrading.

The laugh that came from him was sarcastic almost menacing, he glanced over at you for a moment, truck swerving in the process. “You know I told your mom that girls like you need some discipline. Been too fucking spoiled all your life.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, tearing your gaze away as you tried to stay relaxed in the car ride from hell. You noticed Rafe turning a few streets too early, making your frown. The street leading towards Figure 8 was nothing but trees, making it dark and desolate. You were about to ask what he was doing when the car came to a hault. It came too fast, one second you were being yanked out of your seat and the next you were being pushed against the bed of the truck.

“Rafe.. what are you doing?” You whispered, feeling the cool air hit your exposed bottom from the short skirt you wore.

“Shut up and listen.” His voice boomed, a hard smack to your ass from his hand, making you squeak out. “I’m a proactive type of person. So that means when I say I’m gonna discipline you, you are going to get disciplined.”

You weren’t expecting him to spank you, your ass cheek now stinging from just one hit. You hated yourself and more importantly your cunt for clenching around nothing at the pure wrongness of this. You felt just how damp your panties were getting, wishing you hadn’t worn a skirt or better yet had not even snuck out that night.

The sound of a zipper being pulled down and the clank of a belt, had you turning your head. It was a quick look as your head was roughly pushed down onto the hard plastic of the bed of his truck.

“Rafe..” You whimpered, head burning. “No..”

The taller man behind you, yanked your skirt up, tearing your soaked panties in one go. The dark sounding chuckle behind you was all you needed to hear to know that something bad was about to happen.

“You wanna act like a slut. You get treated like a slut.” His voice rough as he shoved his length inside you with no warning. “Show you what real dick is, since you wanna find out so bad.”

He was huge. Bigger than anything you ever could have imagined. You had only lost your virginity a few months prior and hadn’t had sex since. The burn and stretch to your hole was brutal, tears pooling in your eyes from the pain. The control he had over you though was powerful and you couldn’t bring yourself to fight back.

“What was that earlier? Not a slut.” He growled, yanking your head up by the hair. His hand came to grip your jaw tightly, dark blue eyes boring into your soul. “Why you dripping down your thighs, huh?”

Truth be told, you didn’t know why. Your step father was gorgeous to look at, and a part of you didn’t want to ever disappoint him. That was no reason to be soaking his cock though as he held you down against your will.

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughed, ramming inside you at a cruel pace, making you take his monster of a dick.

“Too.. too much.. please.” You begged, your lower stomach on fire as your first orgasm was already approaching. His hand moved down to your throat, clasping it in a tight grip. You felt your oxygen being cut, the lightheadedness coming to your brain as he squeezed hard.

“Awe don’t please me, pretty girl. You shouldn’t have been such a disrespectful little bitch, if you didn’t want to learn this kind of lesson.” Rafe’s words making you clench around his cock.

You tried to cry out, the pleasure of him taking over your body whether you wanted it to come or not. You quite literally thought that this was it. Being strangled to death, while your step-dad’s dick was buried inside you. But as you came down from your orgasm, the grip from your neck released, making you gasp for breath.

“I sure do hope that you don’t think this is over.” He breathed heavily. “Your daddy’s girl now little bitch. Got that? I catch you fucking around with another clown, I will kill you.”

You knew he had never been more serious.

[milla-frenchy]

Bad girl

7k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller Summary: you break into Joel Miller’s house but not everything goes according to plan Warnings: 18+mdni. Dubcon Voyeurism, threesome mfm (dp), dirty talk, degradation, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m), bondage, spanking, spitting, slapping, manhandling, horny reader, rimming, unprotected piv, ass play, anal, creampie. No age specified, no outbreak a/n : after Keep on your mean side and The burglary, this is the 3rd fic @aurorawritestoescape and I wrote together. We hope you’ll like it ❤️ Kate, writing with you is always such a pleasure ❤️❤️❤️ ILY baby 💕🫶

Kate's masterlist | My masterlist | ao3

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

You hacked his cell phone, his laptop, his alarm and video surveillance system several weeks ago. You studied his habits, what time he got up, what time he came home, and went to bed. 

Joel Miller.

He runs one of the biggest construction companies in the region, and he is in charge of projects for a lot of  wealthy clients. You had been paid to get plans of a house he’d built for one of them. 

Having studied him well, you knew whether after coming home, he was going to eat, watch TV, go to bed, or watch porn, based on the way he walked, held himself, threw his keys on the cabinet in the hall. 

He  watched a lot of porn. Mainly rough, raw fucking, and gangbangs. 

The first time you saw him watching porn, you had two surveillance screens in front of you, and you could see what he was watching, and him, at the same time.

That first time, he started playing the video, and touched himself through the jeans. He did it slowly, taking his time, before unzipping his pants, and pulling out his cock and then his balls. 

When you saw his dick, you couldn't believe your eyes. His cock was thick and long. You've never seen such a big dick, except in porn. 

And the second time you watched him, you couldn’t help but touch yourself too. Matching your rhythm to his, imagining his cock in your mouth, you wondered if you’d be able to take it all. What did his cum taste like. Then you imagined him thrusting into your pussy. Forcing its way inside your core, spreading your folds. You tried to feel the emotions it would give you, him fucking you. How he would tear you apart. How it could even make you cry. 

You were imagining it every time you watched him, while his hand was moving up and down his cock. And when he came, you would come with him, moaning and imagining his cum spurted deep inside your pussy.

Last night, you received a notification when he got home. You approached your screens, your plate with pasta in hand. But this time he wasn't alone. He was walking up the stairs following a woman. His eyes were fixed on her ass in a tight dress. When they came to the bedroom, she turned to him and wanted to caress his cheek. But he grabbed her hand, stopping her, before taking her other hand as well, and pinning them behind her back. She paused for a moment, and he kissed her, his body against hers, before releasing her hands and grabbing her ass. 

You put down your plate, and sat down facing the screens. You couldn’t believe you were going to watch him fuck someone, after everything your mind had been imagining so far.

He told her to get on her knees, and he slowly pulled out his hard cock. You saw her eyes widen, like yours a few weeks ago. He didn't even ask her to suck him off. Everything about his attitude expressed dominance. The way he was towering over her holding his cock tightly. His gaze ordered her to blow him, without a word being needed to say. She took his tip in her mouth while he was still holding his cock.

You zoomed in on the camera, to see her face, her mouth up close. The way her lips curved around the tip, the way she tried her best to take it all. He kept talking to her, telling her how well she was doing, what a good girl she was. How he couldn’t wait to fuck her cunt.

You slipped your hand into your pants and ran your index finger along your folds through your panties. You moaned, feeling how wet the fabric was.

On the screen, she was now taking him in her mouth entirely with greed. She emanated the desire for him. He continued his praise, and she was moaning at each word. 

He told her to get up and get on the bed, on all fours, and to keep her clothes on.

He stripped completely naked, and even though it obviously wasn't the first time you'd seen him like that, once again you couldn't help but whimper. His torso was V-shaped, with broad shoulders and a thin waist. You marveled at his back muscles, his biceps, flexing as he knelt behind her. 

He pulled her dress up over her waist, and caressed the roundness of her buttocks, before spanking her firmly. She cried out, but didn’t try to move away from him. He smirked and spanked her a second time, harder, before pulling her panties down her thighs, and taking them off entirely. 

He spread her ass cheeks with his big hands and leaned down, licking a stripe from her pussy to her ass. You saw her back arch and you envied her so much that your left hand tightened on your thigh. You couldn't wait any longer so you inserted your index and middle fingers into your pussy, to get them wet. You were so soaked that you could hear the obscene sounds your pussy was making. You glided your digits up to your clit, eyes fixed on the screen, where he was eating her out, his nose buried in her ass. 

After he made her come, he stood up, grabbed his cock, and positioned himself at her entrance, waiting. You held your breath, and you imagined that she was certainly holding hers. You slid your middle finger down to your entrance, and moaned, like she did when he thrusted in slowly. You were pushing your finger into your weeping pussy while he was pushing his cock into hers. You groaned, wishing you didn’t have only your fingers to get off, far from feeling what she could feel. He paused when his tip was inside her. She moaned, again, pleading, “oh my god Joel…you’re too big. Move, please. Move.” He grabbed her hips and pulled back, before thrusting in again, firmly, this time without stopping. Fucking her intermittently, flooding her with his dirty talk, alternating praise and light degradation. How she was taking it good, how he was fucking her like the little slut she was. Sometimes, he would slow down the pace, before speeding up again. 

Your orgasm hit you unexpectedly. Lazily, you continued to stroke yourself, spreading your wetness from your hole to your clit. Soon she came on his cock, crying out his name. A few minutes later he sent his load on her face, after ordering her to kneel on the floor.

Fuck, you thought. It wasn't the first time you'd seen one of the people you were watching fuck, but it was the first time you were unable to resist the urge to touch yourself, too turned on by what you were seeing on the screen.

After looking through all the data you collected, you still had nothing about the plans. You knew he had an old-fashioned safe. They must have been there. Your last option was to get the plans after breaking into his house, and forcing him to give you the combination. And you were going to do it the next night.

You enter his home, after paralyzing the alarm and surveillance system, and creating a video loop. You are dressed in black: hoodie, pants, gloves, balaclava. You walk quietly, using your phone to track him and check his whereabouts in the house. You go upstairs and head towards his bedroom. You know he's sitting at his desk checking his emails, his back to the bedroom door. A rookie mistake that made you smile the first time you spied on him. You take out your gun before entering the bedroom, so as not to make any noise. You know the carpet in his room will muffle the sound of your footsteps. You pass through his door frame, the gun pointed at him.

“Hands in the air, and turn around, slowly. Don’t get up.”

He freezes when he hears you and immediately looks at his surveillance screens, yet they don’t show you. You can tell he's frowning, like he does so often. You remove the safety, and say “don’t make me repeat it.” He raises his hands in the air and slowly turns around. You see his gaze trying to peer into yours. But the light in his room is dim, and the balaclava doesn't allow him to see much. Your voice leaves no doubt that you are a woman, but you notice that he quickly looks behind you, to see if you are not alone. He seems surprised when he sees nobody else there.

“Slowly roll your chair towards me, 4 feet.”

He does as you ask, keeping his hands in the air and his gaze on you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you say, taking out a pair of handcuffs. “I was able to neutralize your entire surveillance system. You understand that I am used to this type of intervention, right?”

He nods as you move closer to him. You chain him to the chair, your gun still pointed at him. 

“Do what I ask, and I'll leave. Ok?"

He nods, and waits. He looks calm. You point to the wall on the other side of his bed with the painting that hides the safe.

"The combination?"

He gives it to you, and you go to open the safe, still watching him. The plans are there, stored with the others, which have no value to you.

You take the ones you need and walk around the bed, facing him again. An idea comes to you. Totally unprofessional. You look at him, and you think about all the times you spied on him. All those times you watched him jerk off. You think about the woman he fucked last night. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts that come to your mind.

You think about his cock again. His cum spurting out, reaching his lower abdomen, his thighs. The drops that glisten on his clenched fist. Without realizing it, you glance at his crotch. Half a second, but enough for him to notice it, and something changes in his eyes. He shows astonishment at first, then... interest. As if he was reading your mind. But he doesn't say anything. You're not surprised as he demonstrates his unfailing self-control. 

And something inside you switches. You want to challenge him, to break his composure. So you do what you've never done, you put your professionalism aside and let your primal instincts take over. After all, you got what you came for. The plans. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time.” He tilts his head to the side, slightly, and waits. “Nights, mornings, evenings.” You discern a slight grin. But he doesn't crack. So you push again. “I saw the videos you watch. Several times a week. And I saw you with that woman last night.”

“And?”

“And, I’m gonna take out your cock, and you’re gonna be a good boy, and let me do it, ok?”

You know, having seen him fuck that woman, that “good boy” isn’t exactly the correct way to describe him. He isn’t a nice guy when he’s fucking. But then again, you are hoping to crack his armor.

“Well, darlin’... seems like I don’t have a choice.”

You know it’s a bad idea, and his response doesn’t reassure you. His tone is far too confident. But you have already crossed the line. Also he is tied up, and you are armed. You think “fuck it” and approach him.

You place the gun on his desk, and kneel down, putting your hand on his crotch. You stay like that, your hand simply placed. You've watched him so many times, you've wanted him so many times, and now you don't want to hurry. You feel his cock twitch. You look up at him, and he tilts his head to the side, smirking. You unbutton his pants and slide your hand inside. He's not wearing underwear and you shiver when you feel the skin of his semi-hard cock. 

A little voice inside you asks what the hell you're doing, putting yourself in danger like this. Kneeling in front of him, while he’s sitting in his chair. He could throw himself forward, or hit you with one of his knees. Make you fall. Even if his hands are tied up, it's too risky. You have always been calm in your work, extremely careful and conscientious. And then you put everything aside. For a cock.

You straddle him, and bring your nose to his neck. You breathe him in. His natural smell, his perfume. Finally you hear his breathing speeding up. The first sign of a slight crack in his armor. You grind your pelvis, brushing it against his crotch, and you feel him grow beneath you.

“Darlin’, are you sure you wanna start this?”

You face him defiantly and this time you don't hesitate before taking out his cock. It’s much harder than a few moments ago. You offer him your hand, palm up and say “spit.” He spits, and after taking him in your hand, you begin gently jerking him.

“Fuck, sweetheart…you want it that bad?” You release his cock and rub yourself against him, through your thin pants, bracing your hands on his shoulders. He sighs deeply this time.

“How many times did you touch yourself, watching me, darlin’?”

You don’t answer, so he smiles and adds “that many, huh? This little pussy needs my fat cock so much you’re ready to risk your mission for takin’ it?”

“Don’t make me gag you”, you say, feeling his precum soak through your clothes.

“Oh, sweetheart…come on…I’m sure you like this talk. A slut like you, wants to hear nasty things. You wanna hear me, telling you how I’m gonna fuck your holes.”

“Fuck”, you say, grinding against him a little faster.

“Just what I thought. Fuck, the things I’d do to you, if I weren’t tied up. I’d make you scream on my thick cock.”

You tilt your head back getting lost in the pleasure, turned on even more by his dirty talk. 

You miss the way his gaze darts to the door and don’t hear a man quietly approaching you two. 

The next thing you feel is hands grabbing you by the arms and throwing you off Joel. You fall on the floor, hitting your head and back and get disoriented for a second. The carpet softens your fall, and you rush to get up but the man jumps you and straddles your hips. “Get her!” you hear Joel roar behind you two. The man clasps your wrists with his big hands and you see his face. You recognise him immediately - Tommy Miller, Joel’s brother and his business partner. He overpowers you easily and pins your hands over your head. His face is right over you, his thighs and crotch push your hips to the floor and you can’t help but get turned on. What the fuck is wrong with you? First Joel and now him?! 

You’re scolding yourself inwardly trying to push the man off, but his legs are too strong and you’re completely powerless against him. 

“Hey, baby,” he greets you with a smile, breathing heavily over you and you hiss back, “Get off me!”

He just laughs and quickly gets up, pulling you up and dragging you to the bed. He throws you on the soft mattress and straddles your waist this time. 

Joel shouts, “Handcuffs, top drawer, Tommy!”

Fuck! Of course he has handcuffs!

You wriggle under Joel’s brother but the man grabs your shoulders and presses you against the bed. He clasps your throat and squeezes it lightly, making you focus on unclamping his fingers around your neck while he opens the drawer in the nightstand with his free hand and finds the handcuffs. You scream, the sound hoarse and weak because of the hand around your throat. As the last attempt to break free, you hit his back really hard and Tommy grunts and slaps your face with the hand holding the handcuffs. It doesn’t hurt much as your face is still covered with the balaclava but the whiplash makes you stop fighting for a second and it’s enough for him to lift your hand and handcuff you to the headboard. You hear Joel laugh with triumph and start tugging on the chain. You sit up hastily and Joel tells Tommy to get the handcuffs’ key from your pocket. 

He locks eyes with you and smirks, and you notice his semi hard cock twitch. You grind your teeth feeling anger and frustration rise up in your throat, as Tommy searches for the key. 

Having found it he runs to his brother and unlocks the handcuffs. Joel tucks his cock in his pants, then gets up rubbing his wrists, and steps up to the foot of the bed. Nerves and fear are gnawing at your stomach but you don’t show it, throwing daggers at the men with your blown eyes. 

“What the fuck is it, Joel? Is it one of your exes?” Tommy asks with a chuckle, placing his hands on the hips and looking you over. 

“Not yet,” Joel replies, walking around the bed and coming closer to you. You start tugging on the chain with both hands, being afraid of what they might do to you. Joel’s hand darts to your head and he takes your balaclava off in one swift move. 

“Pretty little slut,” Joel praises you and Tommy whistles. 

“Fuck you!” you spit out glaring at the men. 

“You will, sweetheart, don’t worry,” Joel chuckles and turns to his brother throwing your mask on the floor. 

“Can you believe it, Tommy? Catwoman here wanted to get the plans from my safe and also bounce on my cock?”

Tommy gawks at you and then a lopsided smile twists his face, “What a slut! Wait! You sure she’s not a birthday hooker a friend sent you? The role playing kind?” 

Joel doesn’t tear his eyes off you, examining every inch of your body and face, “Nah, she’s a professional. Been surveilling me for some time, deactivated my security system.” 

“She was grinding on your dick when I found you two. Not very professional,” Tommy chuckles and you avert your eyes as shame twists your stomach. 

“She’s a pro and a huge slut I guess,” Joel adds with a smirk. As if your own body mocks you, you feel yourself gush hearing their words. 

“She’s hot, Joel, we can give the girl what she wants,” Tommy says, flopping at the foot of the bed.

“I don’t want your dicks, you assholes, let me go!” you exclaim but your command sounds far from confident. You know you’re toast. They’ll call the police and you’ll be arrested and sentenced and …

“Want a deal, sweetheart?” Joel interrupts your pessimistic thoughts with a question. He walks to his brother and sits next to him on the other side of the bed. Too far for you to kick him. 

“How about the three of us spend this night together and in the morning we’ll let you go. Without my plans of course. But I won’t call the police on you and will forget all about your… visit”, he adds and you see Tommy’s eyes light up at the proposition. 

They’re both looking at you waiting for your answer and you swallow loudly before asking with a shaky voice, “you promise?” 

Tommy shoots you a blinding smile while Joel’s smirk disappears and his eyes get dark when he replies, “I guess you know me well by now, darlin’, so you’re aware that I  always keep my promises.” 

You turn your head to look at your hand chained to the bed, then return your gaze back to the two men staring at you, and you know you have no other choice if you want to get out of the situation as a free person. 

You nod chewing on your lip, nervously glancing at Joel and then Tommy. 

“Words, sweetheart, I want to hear you say it,” Joel commands in a soft but stern tone. 

“Yes, I agree.”

“Good girl,” Tommy coos at you as he gets up and comes up to you. He sits down on the bed inches from you and looks at Joel, waiting for his older brother to give him a command. 

“Don’t uncuff her yet,” Joel grunts, adjusting his bulge, “she might be lying to us. I wanna see her naked first.”

“I won’t run, I promise,” you beg, pleading eyes glued to Joel. 

But the man only smirks, “I’m not sure I can believe a thief like yourself. We’ll undress you and play with you and you’ll be uncuffed when I say so, got it, little slut?” Joel rumbles and you rub your thighs to get much needed pressure on your pussy. His voice, his confidence, his words ignite fire inside your core. 

“Yes,” you reply and take a deep breath. You feel nervous but it mixes with the familiar excitement that you usually feel before fucking someone for the first time. You tell yourself you need to be focused to find an opportunity to escape but your pussy aches with desire that clouds your mind. Joel gets up and  settles down next to you. 

“Take her pants off,” he tells Tommy and his brother immediately follows the command, unclasping the button and tugging the zipper down while Joel lifts up your hoodie exposing your bra. Tommy tugs down your pants and you lift your hips helping him. You want to show how eager you are to fuck them, to make them trust you. You don’t have to act that hard though. 

Tommy quickly takes the pants off your legs and the men pause, staring at your black lacy set. He licks his lower lip and Joel adjusts himself again. 

“Fuck, are you absolutely sure she’s not a hooker, brother?” Tommy asks, not tearing his eyes from your body. 

“She’s got a gun, Tommy,” Joel gambles, nodding in the direction of the desk. 

Tommy looks back just noticing the gun, stands up and walks to it. You see him taking your weapon and fear freezes your heart. Tommy confidently opens the magazine and checks the bullets. 

“Fuck, it’s real,” he mumbles looking back at you with concern in his dark eyes, “You know you can kill someone with this thing, kitty?” 

You look at him confidently and a smile tugs at your lips. Joel interrupts you two with his gruff voice,

“Enough talking. Let’s fuck her already.” He leans closer to you and tugs down your bra. Tommy returns to the bed and immediately gets between your legs. They ogle at your naked breasts pushed up by the bra and you bite your lips seeing how hard your nipples are for them. 

“You've got pretty tits, baby," Tommy praises you while his warm hands are gliding up and down your thighs.

"Would look even prettier with my cum on 'em," Joel mumbles as he takes your nipple between his fingers and twists it. You whimper and they both chuckle.

"Thirsty little slut," Joel comments and then tells Tommy to take your panties off. The younger brother hooks his thumbs under the waistband giving you a smile, pulls your soaked panties down and slides them off your legs. He tosses them on the floor and pushes on the insides of your thighs, opening you wider.

The men leer at your glistening pussy and the atmosphere in the room shifts. The air gets heavier, thicker as their blown and hungry eyes take in every inch of your exposed body. They are fully driven by instinct now. They caught you and it's time to devour their prey.

Joel grumbles, “Look at this sloppy cunt, Tommy, she’s been soaking my bed all this time”. 

You want to close your legs but Tommy holds them open, asking with a smirk, “Do you like being handcuffed so much, or does the humiliation turn you on?”

“I think her cunt’s getting ready to be pounded by two big cocks,” Joel rumbles. 

“Remind me sweetheart, what were ya doin’ to me before my brother came?”

You feel yourself blushing and struggle to respond, stammering a few words “I uh…”

“Don’t act shy. Not after rubbing against me like a whore. Not after ruining this job for my cock.”

He grabs your chin with his hand, and lifts your face towards his.

“Tell my brother what you saw last night”, he asks, his piercing eyes fixed on you.

“I…saw him having sex with a woman.”

“Having sex?” Joel smirks.

“Fucking a woman” you correct, as you look at him defiantly this time.

“No shit! Liked what you saw, baby?” Tommy asks.

You can't help but shiver thinking back to the images from the evening before, thinking that you're going to be fucked the same way as her, and you feel your pussy clench.

“Did you touch yourself, watching my brother fuck her?”

There's no point in lying now, and you answer "yes. Yes I touched myself. Till I came.”

“Oh…such a bad girl” Tommy sneers.

Joel finally releases you from the handcuffs, takes off your hoodie and bra, and Tommy moves to the side of the bed. Joel turns you around, making you lie face down. You’re clenching your fists at your sides, breathing heavily, waiting for what they’re going to do to you. The bed lowers under Joel’s weight, and you feel his bulge in the hollow of your ass, and his mouth at your ear.

“Did you enjoy turning me on? Playing with my cock and my nerves?” He presses his crotch harder against you and you can’t help but moan hearing his words, and feeling his body against yours. He slips his hand between your bodies and you hear a zipper. The next moment he nudges your entrance with his fat tip, barely pushing in.

“Oh fuck!”

“Don’t act surprised. You know I have a big one. Did you imagine taking it in your cunt? Your mouth?"

When you don’t respond quickly enough, Tommy intervenes “kitty, come on. We already know you’re a slut. Be a good girl and answer him.”

Joel pushes his cock in a little deeper and you exclaim, “Yes! Yes I imagined you fucking me, damnit.”

“You’re so fucking wet…” he thrusts in slowly, and you can’t help but hold your breath. You feel your walls parting, just how you imagined, and you gasp.

“Fuck, this cunt is so tight, Tommy…I don’t know if I’ve ever fucked a hole this tight.” He grabs your hair with one hand, one hip with the other one, using it as leverage every time he thrusts in, deeper each time, until he bottoms out. He sighs, staying still, "so darlin', is it what you hoped for?"

“Don't stop please, move, move… You’re… fuck. Your dick is too fat.” He chuckles in your ear, hearing you. "I won't move unless you answer me."

“Yes, fuck…yes!”

He smiles and places his forearms on either side of your body, pulling his pelvis back before thrusting deep. Every movement makes you suffocate.

“Mmmm you take it so good, sweetheart. Remember, when you wanted me to be a good boy, earlier? Am I?” you hear a smirk in his tone, now that he is using you like he pleases. He keeps pounding you against the bed, and you can’t even answer him. Not that he wants you to.

You look to the side at Tommy, his eyes fixed on the two of you, his hand slowly stroking his cock, and damn, he's almost as big as his brother. When he sees your gaze on him, he smiles, saying “Oh, baby… wondering how you’re gonna manage to take our cocks. We’ll make them fit, don’t worry.”

Joel is thrusting in quickly now, his mouth still close to your ear, his grunts turning you on even more. He slows down, then withdraws. You feel empty and whine, and he spanks your ass.

He gets up, tucks his cock in his jeans, and says “bring her here” to his brother. He walks towards his desk and pushes everything carelessly to the side with one hand. Tommy grabs your arm to help you up, lifts you by the thighs and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your pussy comes to rest on his crotch, and you moan again. He grabs his cock and slides it directly into your entrance and your pussy clenches on it. The position allows him to pierce you so deep you gasp.

​”Yeah, baby, just like that. My brother was right, you're fuckin’ tight.”

He takes the back of your neck in his hand and kisses you, his tongue seeking yours hungryly. His perfume smells of violets, cedar and patchouli, and it intoxicates you. He carries you to the desk, keeping you pressed down on his shaft, still kissing you, and then sits you down on it. He moves away pulling out of you and Joel takes his place between your thighs, placing his hand on your pussy. He pushes two fingers in, eyes fixed on yours and you moan at the intrusion. His thumb finds your clit, and rubs it in circles.

“Want that cock? Gotta earn it. Cum on my fingers,” he orders you.

Tommy takes your chin between his fingers, turns your face towards him and you two kiss again. He grabs your hand and places it against his crotch, and you groan, your tongue against his. Joel runs his nose along your cheek, and whispers in your ear “I can’t wait for us both to fuck you, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you’re so hot, baby,” Tommy tells you, parting his lips from yours as your hand is jerking his cock. “You’re gonna cum on my brother’s fingers?”

“Yeah…” you breathe out, resting your forehead against Tommy’s. Soon your pussy starts clenching on Joel’s fingers and you come moaning loudly. He lets you ride out your orgasm, releasing your clit from his thumb, but pushing a third finger into your pussy.

“Okay, lay down now,” he tells you, pressing on your chest. 

Your breathing struggles to calm down, as you’re lying with your legs spread shamelessly on the desk of the guy you were supposed to rob. He and his brother already fucked you, and part of you doesn't understand how you got to this point. The other part of you doesn’t give a fuck about the plans. You wait, your gaze darting from one man to the other.

Joel finally removes his fingers from your pussy and licks them, while looking at you. Everything about him smells like a wild animal. He is dominant and calm. 

Joel spreads your folds with his thumbs, saying “Look how this cunt is drooling.”

“Damn! I wanna clean this pussy up, man.” Joel steps aside to make way for Tommy who kneels between your legs, hands resting on your inner thighs, holding you open against the table.

He brings his face closer to your pussy and spits on it, making you shiver. He smears his saliva with his thumb and you can't help but arch your back. He grabs one of your calves and places it against his shoulder, spreading your other thigh further on the table.

You bite your lip, and glance at Joel. He looks like a feline getting ready to devour a mouse and taking its time, knowing that the prey has nowhere to go. Tommy spits again, this time spreading the saliva all the way to your ass. You tense up slightly and he laughs, saying “come on, baby, relax. I see your little hole contracting. I'm sure it wants some dick too.” The tip of his tongue presses against your ring, and you bring your hand to your mouth. You didn’t consider they’d fuck you there, and you wonder if you'll be able to take one of them. They are much girthier than anyone who has ever fucked your ass.

Tommy continues to run his tongue over your ass, and pushes his thumb into your pussy. The double stimulation makes you moan and you close your eyes for a moment. When you open them again, Joel is standing next to your face, cock in hand. You gulp seeing it so close. His cock is gorgeous, but thick. So thick.

“Open”, he says, and you obey. You round your lips, stick out your tongue a little, and look at him, letting him take the initiative. He places the tip on your tongue and leans forward slightly, just enough to spit on his shaft. The saliva disappears in your mouth along with his cock.

As Joel's dick slides into your mouth down to your throat, Tommy licks from your ass to your clit, and replaces his thumb with two fingers, then three. His ring finger moves down from your pussy to your ass, and he presses lightly to get it inside. He focuses his tongue on your clit and fucks both of your holes with his fingers. Quickly, you feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, and Joel pulls back, squeezing your throat in his hand with a firm grip. He holds your throat tight throughout your orgasm. When your spasms subside, Tommy tells you to turn around, and you lean over the table, cheek resting against the wood. He spreads your buttocks and spits on your ass, before licking it again with the flat of his tongue. Joel stands in front of his brother, on the other side of the desk, and tells you, “Suck my cock. Again.”

You plant on your forearms on the desk and take him into your mouth, just as Tommy stands up and thrusts suddenly into your pussy, his thumb buried in your ass.

“Oh fuck… I love that pussy. But your ass is next. Ya gonna take it, right baby?”

He doesn't wait for you to respond, and fucks you quickly, Joel’s cock still sliding in your throat.

“Is she ready to take it up her ass?” Joel asks brushing the hair away from your face while you’re choking on his thick member. 

“She’ll never be ready for my big dick,” Tommy laughs, “but I’m sure she’s a brave girl, huh?” He slaps your asscheeks, getting your attention. 

Your whole body is sliding back and forth along the table. You feel like a fuck toy in their greedy hands and you love the feeling so much, you can’t concentrate on anything less. You raise your hazy eyes up to Joel and he smirks seeing your fucked out face. 

“Damn, Tommy, you should see her right now, the slut’s on cloud nine,” he pauses, thrusting into your mouth and adds, “let’s get her back to the bed. I’m ready to pump her full of my cum.”

Tommy immediately follows his brother’s order and pulls out of your weeping hole. His thumb leaves your ass at the same time Joel’s cock slides out of your mouth. You whine feeling empty without their dicks and fingers plugging you up and the brothers laugh at you. You feel Tommy’s hands under your arms as he’s helping you up on your feet. Your legs are trembling and you grab his shoulders for stability. He whistles seeing the state of you. “Let me help you, baby.” He takes your body in his arms and carries you bridal style to the bed. 

Joel’s already waiting for you there, his back resting against the headboard. He’s looking at you with a smirk. You hate his smug expression but can’t deny the immense pleasure they both are giving you tonight. 

“Come here, darlin’, time to sit on my cock.”

Tommy kisses your temple and places you on Joel’s lap who quickly manhandles you into straddling him, with your knees on the bed and pussy pressing Joel’s throbbing cock to his lower belly. He grabs your hips with his big hands, as his thumbs are drawing circles on your skin. 

“Got lube?” Tommy asks and Joel nodes to the nightstand. While Tommy is searching for it you drop your head and marvel at Joel’s angry tip. It’s leaking precum on his belly and absentmindedly you deep your finger into the little puddle and bring it to your lips to taste him again. You look up at Joel sucking on your digit while he’s watching you with a hungry gaze. 

“Remember what I told you, earlier? The things I would do to you, if I weren’t tied up. How I’d make you scream on this thick cock. Well, darlin’... it’s time to scream on it.” 

He spreads his legs and you sense the bed deep down under Tommy’s weight. He’s behind you, between Joel's legs now and you feel his breath on your neck, his fingers caressing your arms. 

“Let’s do it, brother,” you hear Tommy mumble behind you and in the next moment Joel’s hand lifts you as he holds his cock up. 

“Can’t believe it’s been so long since we used a fuckdoll like that…All we needed was a hot slut, and this one came to us by herself.”

You whimper at his words, and keep yourself steady by placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the steel of his muscles under your palms. He nudges your hole with his wet tip and being impatient to be plugged up again, you sink on his cock in one go. Joel breathes out with a groan and you hear Tommy’s “fuck”. You moan, feeling Joel’s cock hit your cervix and start moving your hips riding him as your walls are trying to accommodate his girth. 

Tommy presses his chest to your back as his hands snake around your body and he cups your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipples. 

“Let me fuck your tight ass, baby. I’ll be gentle I promise,” you hear his whispering in your ear and you can’t believe you agree so fast, but as if your body acts on its own you bend over pressing your breasts to Joel’s chest and resting your face in the crook of his neck. His smell intoxicates you and you continue grinding your hips against him, rubbing your clit on his lower stomach. 

“Don’t be too rough, Tommy, we don’t wanna break her,” Joel says and his neck vibrates, pressed to your lips, and you dart out your tongue to lick his skin. 

He chuckles as his arms envelop your body and he thrusts up into you making you gasp. “Ready for both of our cocks, sweetheart? My brother’s dick is getting cold,” he mumbles into your ear and you whine with need. They take it as a yes and you feel a glob of lube land on your ring. Tommy pushes his finger into your tight hole and starts working you open slowly while Joel is sliding his length in and out of you. 

Tommy’s finger leaves your asshole but is quickly replaced by the tip of his cock. You take a deep breath of air and Joel hugs you tighter, comforting you, “you can do it, darlin’. He’s big but you just need to relax. I’m sure a slut like you will love it.”

With that he tilts your head up and his lips find yours. He’s kissing you gently, holding the back of your head with his hand, while the other is rubbing your back. 

You don’t simply relax, you absolutely melt into the kiss and his embrace. Every muscle of your body gets soft as Tommy slides his tip into your asshole. 

“Yeah, fuck, Joel, she’s something else. Why do I never get robbed?” Tommy huffs as his fingers are digging into your hips. 

You’re making out with Joel, his tongue tangled with yours while his brother gradually slides his whole length into your tight ass. You feel so full with both of their cocks inside you, your whole body buzzes. When Tommy’s balls hit your pussy you moan into Joel’s mouth and your lips leave his. 

“Oh, fuck,” you bite your lip mercilessly, your breaths deep and frequent, as your pussy and asshole squeeze their cocks. “please, move!” 

They don’t make you wait. Joel starts gently thrusting up into your pussy while Tommy pulls his cock out of your ass almost to the tip and then pushes it back in slowly. You’re moaning and whimpering into Joel’s neck still getting used to the feeling of two fat cocks piercing you. 

“You’re doing so good, kitty, taking us so well,” Tommy praises you, holding your asscheeks spread for him while his length disappears in your tight hole. 

“Sit up, sweetheart, wanna see you,” Joel murmurs into your ear, and gently helps you lift your torso while they’re using both of your holes. You brace yourself on his broad chest, your nails digging into his golden skin and as soon as your chest levels with his face he reaches up to take your nipple into his hot mouth. His hand is kneading your other breast and you’re reveling in an ocean of pleasure. The brothers’ cocks in your ass and pussy, Joel’s tongue swirling around your nipple, their hands squeezing and rubbing, roaming over your trembling body. It’s so much, but you crave even more. You start moving up and down on their cocks first slowly and then with higher intensity. 

“Look at this slut, Tommy. She’s full of cock and still insatiable,” Joel groans parting from your breast and Tommy takes it as a command as he begins fucking into your ass with vigor. The ache you’re feeling is nothing against the pleasure he’s giving you and you reach back with your hand grabbing his neck and pulling him to you. Soon he’s nipping and licking at your neck as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the bedroom mixing with your moans and their growls. 

“Wanna cum again, little slut?” Joel asks.

“Cum for us, kitty,” Tommy coos at you and adds, “Fuck, Joel. Wanna bet she’ll squirt?” 

“Will you squirt on our cocks, darlin’?” Joel asks you and you moan in reply as your core tightens. 

“Shit, she’s close,” Tommy groans, fuck.. choking my cock.”

Sensing that you need a little push Joel puts his fingers on your throbbing clit and rubs it up and down. You cry out as your climax hits you and you’re shaking, squeezing their cocks as your squirt is leaking out of your used pussy. You barely hear Joel praising you “that’s it, such a good girl, coming so hard on our cocks.” They don’t stop moving and you hear lewd  squelching sounds your pussy is making.  

“Fuck, yeah!” Tommy exclaims through groans and panting. Soon they both follow you. First Tommy pumps his hot cum into your ass and then Joel erupts filling your pussy up. There’s so much cum in you it drips out of your holes while their cocks are pulsating inside you. 

When your climaxes subside, you lean on Tommy as satisfaction is coursing through your body. You’re so cock dumb you barely notice Joel’s hand on your throat. Your eyes lock as he praises you, “You did such a good job, little slut.” You give him a naughty smile, still panting.

Tommy’s hands snake around to your breasts as he gives them a playful squeeze. “That was amazing, baby. Thanks for robbing my brother,” he chuckles and then tilts your head to face him and kisses you. You’re lazily making out both still trying to catch your breath until you part from him and he pulls his cock out of you. Your asshole aches and you know tomorrow you’ll be sore but you don’t care. You get up on your knees and Joel’s softening cock unplugs your pussy. Your combined cum drips out and slides down your inner thighs. The bedding under Joel is completely soaked and you smile. 

You're exhausted and it's late. Without really realizing it, you fall asleep between the brothers. You only remember one of them pulling the blanket over your naked bodies. 

When you wake up a few hours later, it's still dark outside. You carefully get off the bed, collect your stuff, take one last look at Joel and Tommy, still asleep, and leave.

Joel wakes up from the sound of a notification on his phone. He grabs it and sees an email from bad_girl@gmail.com - 

“Thanks for the great fuck. And for the plans. You both are such good boys! And heavy sleepers;)”

******************* Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 4 * mv1

you’re woken up in the middle of the night in cold sweat and max’s name at the tip of your tongue

pairings: max verstappen x reader

warnings: sad again :(

notes: i’m almost at 2k followers!!! i’ll be doing a sleepover event soon, so do look out for that!!!

(prev) // (next)

it feels so real, the way his hands are cupping your cheeks with his thumbs rubbing circles against the skin. “my darling.”

“max.” you come out in a whisper, your hands clutching onto his wrist. “don’t go.”

“i wouldn’t ever dare.”

wouldn’t ever dare.

that’s the words that woke you in a jolt, met by the darkness and stillness of your own bedroom. you stay in your position for a little bit, the weight on your chest making is slightly harder to breathe.

the effort to steady yourself is constant, but slow. there’s a tingling sensation where you think he last touched you, on your cheeks and by your neck. your lips are numb that you have to graze your fingers over it to make sure you’re really awake.

you exhale shakily, finally turning over to your side. you sigh and snuggle your face into the blanket. the picture frame of max kissing your cheek stands tall. it was his championship race from the 2022 season, right before he left the garage to start the race.

you couldn’t bear the thought of putting this one down. it had been a special moment with him, the thought of winning back to back championships seemed so silly in the beginning.

max doesn’t haunt your dreams often, even when you’d been pining for him. watching the championship sprint race wasn’t the best idea. you’d fallen asleep on the couch before it started and woke up with max’s face zoomed in on the screen.

it took everything in you not to send him a message, congratulating him on a win that was undisputedly his. every fibre of self control not to give him a call and ask him how everything has been.

you were curious yourself how the sprint had gone — you watched clips of him after the race looking drained. it almost brought you to his contact to call him, drowning him with questions laced with concern.

you wanted to be the one to press the cold towel to his forehead and essentially wipe him dry of his sweat.

you felt like a stranger to his life, and it’s killing you. you don’t know if he’s celebrating the championship with some other girl on his arm, sharing a tradition that only you two were aware of.

you can’t help but wonder if his champagne flavoured lips has been tasted by another woman and it makes your stomach churn at the thought of someone else having that luxury. a luxury that you seem to have dismissed too easily during your relationship.

but you realise it’s not really your problem, now that he’s just another ex-boyfriend; you’re just another ex-girlfriend.

your phone lights up on the nightstand, illuminating the picture frame. a small smile stretches your lips when you catch a glimpse of his lips smushed into your cheeks. not knowing what max is up to almost drives you crazy when you let it get to your head.

you now know nothing of the person you knew everything about.

it’s a bigger change than anyone cares to elaborate after a breakup. it’s a lot harder to deal with, but it’s something nobody ever talks about.

they tell you about the crippling pain of losing the love of your life and how empty the bed will feel without them. but nobody ever tells you how directionless and painful it will be when you feel yourself start to become a mere memory to them.

you slide your phone off your nightstand, reading the notifications that flooded your phone. you hadn’t expected anyone to be texting you so late, but you remember that half of the people you know are in another timezone.

danny ❧ not here for championship weekend? :( ❧ oh nevermind :/

the texts were 3 hours apart. you’re guessing that somewhere between those two messages, max had confessed about what happened.

alexandra ❧ did u text him?? ❧ it’s ok if u did…

but you still didn’t feel like talking to anybody. you drop the phone behind you and close your eyes.

a shaky breath passes your lips, max’s face flashing for a second — the face he makes when he’s across the room at a function and he spots you in the crowd unexpectedly. it’s very gentle and you can almost see the love oozing out of him when you’d caught it.

you open your eyes. you turn to your other side, now facing the empty half of your bed. you stretch your arm out and try to imagine the feeling of max next to you.

you try to remember what it felt like to be cuddled into his chest with his strong arm wrapped around your back. but it’s been so long since you’d been in such an intimate position with him, even before the relationship had come to its end.

sleep never came that night, the image of your love creeping up every single time you kept your eyes closed for too long. the sun had risen before you fell into a slumber, but max never left your mind even then.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Star Beast - Part Eight

Excerpts from Benjamin Cook's Star Beast Set Visit - discussing the Camden night shoots:

Is nobody here having a bad time?? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THEM? "I had a little lull earlier," admits David, "at 2AM when we were waiting to turn over- I definitely yawned, maybe twice - but then the blood starts pumping again." Wrap isn't till 3AM. David lives across town. Isn't he worried he'll wake up his family when he gets in? "Listen, the kids are at Davison's," he says (this is Fifth Doctor actor Peter Davison, who happens to be David's father-in-law), "so I'm full of beans. Oh, and sugar. Do you want some?" He's bought a churro from a market stall that's stayed open because it's very much in shot. "You can have more than that." He breaks me off a bigger piece. "The sugar rush will do you good." He offers the director [ Rachel Talalay ] some too: "Go on, Rachel, you deserve it." "Are you doing OK?" she asks him. "Yeah! Sugar! I'll move on to the Yorkie bars next. I give not a fudge at this time in the morning." He claps his hands, dusting off the sugar from his churro. "But are you OK?" "I am at this moment," she says, waving to some fans. "Tomorrow at 4:30AM I might not be. Ask me again then." "You do get a lot of love from the fans, don't you?" says David. "In a tiny way, which is just lovely. I mean, I'm not you," she says, with a laugh. "I love hearing them scream for you. But I'm not used to any of this. And… I think it's stopped raining." "OK, here we go," says Scott. "Let's go for one. Stand by then, folks…" They go for another take. And another. When I catch up with Rachel later – much later, it’s October 2023, and she’s chatting over Zoom from her home in Vancouver – we’re five weeks away from The Star Beast airing on TV. “I didn’t know quite how well the episode was working,” she says, “till my family watched an almost-finished cut. I came downstairs, and my two girls were crying. It was like, oh, OK, this does work! And on a much, much deeper level too. To have them go, ‘We knew it would be full of joy’ – which I think it is – ‘but we didn’t expect it to be so emotional,’ that was very satisfying. It was an emotional time all round.” It was. In more ways than one. Which is something that Rachel wants to talk about – here in DWM – for the first time publicly. “I think I can now,” she says, “because I’m close to two years in remission. I will be this month. Two years in remission. And Doctor Who really helped heal me. Directing Doctor Who while I was only a couple of months post-chemo.” A deep breath. “I had lymphoma,” she explains. “I’d been in chemo for seven or eight months. I wasn’t sure if I was going to survive. Then I was offered The Star Beast. I thought, I’ve got to do this. I didn’t tell anybody I was sick. I hadn’t told anybody except very close family. And I didn’t tell anyone on Doctor Who till I was there long enough to say, ‘Look, I’m well enough, so I don’t want you worried about me.’ Because, frankly, I don’t know that they’d have wanted to hire someone who might not have made it through the shoot. I totally get that. That’s fair enough. [...] “I could not have been surrounded by a more supportive crew,” says Rachel. “The best crew in the world. When I realised, it’s all night shoots, I thought, oh god, and I’m two months post-chemo. But that crew – David especially – made those night shoots so fun. It’s weird now, because I look back at the pictures – like that lovely one of me and David you published last issue – and that was my chemo hair. I was just getting my hair back. But I got healthier and healthier, stronger and stronger, as the shoot went on. When I got back to Canada, the doctor said, ‘You’re a poster child for how well someone can do after chemo. This is what people are capable of.’ “But it’s just what you do,” she reflects, “isn’t it? – when you love Doctor Who in your heart so much. There was no better place for me than Doctor Who.”

Additional parts of this set are in the #whoBtsBeast tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

[megalony]

They're Joined

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by Anon, thank you for this I love writing dramatic, angst pieces. I hope you like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@butlegendsneverdie@langdonzvoid@jennyggggrrr@rogmeddows@radiob-l-a-hblah@rogertaylorsbitontheside@chlobo6@rogertaylors-lipgloss@sj-thefanthefan@omgitsearly@luckytrashgooprebel@scarsout@deaky-with-a-c@killer-queen-ofrhye@bluutac@vousmemanqueez-blog@jonesyaddiction@milanosaurus@httpfandxms@saint-hardy@7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls@mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe

911 Masterlist

Summary: After a day trip, the Diaz family are on their way home when they get caught up in a crash. The 118 work to get them out when their lives are in danger.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft smile lit up (Y/n)'s face as she slowly turned in her seat to look behind her in the back of the car. Her gaze fell on her son and she smiled brighter as she watched him for a few moments.

He was in his carseat, biting down on his thumb and rocking his head and chest back and forth, lightly bashing into the seat. He had a big smile morphed around his thumb and his legs were swinging back and forth, catching his shoes on her seat but she didn't mind. He was ecstatic.

It had been a long time since Chris had visited a zoo and the hour and a half drive had been more than worth it to see his face light up. He had zoomed around on his crutches, never tiring even though he had been walking about for hours. Every so often Eddie had picked him up and sat him on his shoulders to give him a break or let him get a better view of the animals.

His favourite had been the penguins, which was why he had a stuffed penguin toy tucked under his arm, pinned against his chest. (Y/n) had worried they wouldn't be able to get him to leave the zoo but he had been hungry and the promise of a takeaway for tea was enough to get him back in the car.

He had been stimming for the last hour.

Every now and then a squeal would break through over the noise of the radio or Chris would push back in his seat and rock so much the carseat started to creak and bash. But his parents were used to it and his happy stimming like this always made them smile.

(Y/n) slowly turned back round and shuffled down in her seat, relieved they were only twenty minutes away from home now. It had been a long day and she wanted to get out of the car and get something to eat.

Just when she reached her hand over to hold Eddie's thigh, her eyes widened and her lips parted silently. She caught Eddie's eye, noticing his raised brows and he tilted his head to look in the rear view mirror. Chris was doing echolalia.

"Then we were running and I ran-"

(Y/n) couldn't make out the rest of what Chris was saying, each word was said faster and faster until he was messing up his pronouncing and mashing the words together. His voice got higher as he continued to repeat a few random, unrelated phrases he had heard until he stopped himself and screamed excitedly.

It wasn't very often that Chris would do his echolalia during the day, it mostly happened at night when he was trying to fall asleep. It was a condition where Chris would repeat words and phrases he had heard, some of them recent and some of them could have been from months ago. He didn't understand what he was saying, it was just his brain processing and repeating and it usually happened at night when he was excited and winding down to sleep.

They had heard him say a lot of random things over the years and it was surprising how Chris could talk in full sentences when he was doing his echolalia. But then when he was talking properly to them or at school, he didn't always use enough words or use adjectives or connecting words. He was a lot slower at talking when he was engaged in conversation whereas like this, he talked so fast even he couldn't work out what he was saying.

Eddie had started to watch what he said around his son after hearing him one night repeat 'he ran into the fucking fire' followed by a loud giggle. It was surprising what Chris could hear and remember.

"Someone's happy,"

"He won't be sleeping tonight," Eddie reached down for (Y/n)'s hand that was on his thigh and raised the back of her hand to his lips. They knew this would be a possibility when they decided on a day trip out but it was worth it to have Chris so happy and elated like this.

"Yeah but we already knew that."

The next scream that Chris let out, (Y/n) and Eddie joined in too; but for a completely different reason.

***

Something burned in Chimney's stomach and ignited deep in his chest, causing his steps to falter when he got closer to the crash site. He could feel his breaths getting clogged up in his throat and the med bag on his shoulder started to slip when his shoulders sagged down and his feet went from running to a floppy shuffle.

He knew that truck, he had seen it hundreds of times in the car park behind the station.

He moved his hand to grab the med bag that was almost falling to the floor and he picked his feet up. Shuffling awkwardly through the mess of cars that had slammed on their brakes and spun to a stop to avoid the pile up in front of them.

"Oh fuck," Tears were already welling up in his eyes without seeing the damage or commotion that was happening inside the truck.

That was Eddie's truck.

There wasn't a lot of space around the truck, it was banged up pretty good. The passenger side was slammed up into the concrete barrier separating both sides of the motorway and there was another car wedged up at the back of the driver's side. There was only a small angle of room where Chimney would be able to open the driver's door and try to get in and help. They couldn't even pull the truck forward because another car was rammed into the engine that was smoking and making a clicking, whirling noise that didn't sound good.

He dropped the bag to the floor and yanked on the door handle until it swung open and slammed into the empty car next to it. There was just enough space for Chimney to climb up onto the small step and lean inside the truck to see what was going on.

He didn't like what he saw.

Eddie was in the driver's seat, slumped forward onto the steering wheel with his left arm bent around the wheel and his right arm stretched out towards the passenger seat.

Reaching down, Chimney pressed a finger to his neck, relieved to feel a strong pulse and hear his deep breaths.

"Alright Eddie, help's here." He pushed himself higher on the step to try and see over Eddie's back towards the passenger seat. "(Y/n), can you hear me?" A groan from Eddie was the only response he got.

He could barely see (Y/n), she was slumped against the door, her hair fanned across her face hiding her from sight but Chimney could see glass littering her body. The window had broken as had the windscreen. She was slightly hunched over and if the seatbelt wasn't bound around her, Chimney could see she would have fallen down into the footwell.

"Christopher? Hey, you with me?"

Chris wasn't responsive either. He had his glasses slung around his neck, his chin pressed down into his chest with his head slumped forward and his arms crossed loosely over his chest and a teddy slumped between his legs.

Oh dear.

"Attention, I need a lot of backup over the East side of the pile up to the black Ford truck. Guys, it's Eddie. Repeat, Eddie and family are trapped unresponsive in the truck. Bring the saw."

He would need a lot of help getting all three of them out of here and he needed the metal saw or cutters or something like the winch to get enough room to get them all out. If they had spinal injuries, they might have to hoist them through the windscreen.

When another groan left Eddie's lips, Chimney could have cried in happiness, it would be more helpful to have Eddie awake and able to tell them what hurt and see if he had internal damage. But if he was awake and his family wasn't, it was also going to make the situation a lot harder for everyone.

"Eddie, it's Chim. Take it easy, I'm gonna ease you back and check you over, the team's all here to get you out."

He braced his hand on Eddie's chest and held the back of his neck before he slowly helped him sit back up in his seat. It would be easier to assess and talk to him if he was upright instead of slumped over like that.

Eddie started to blink and he twitched his head away when he felt unfamiliar hands on his neck trying to assess whether he had any spinal damage or nerve damage. He didn't. He could feel his legs, he could wiggle his toes in his shoes if he wanted to and every part of his body was on fire but he was waking up and that was good. His vision blurred for a while and he jerked his arm when he felt Chimney pressing on his chest that felt like it was tight and aching.

"Can you move your toes for me Eddie?"

"Yeah," It hurt like Hell, but he tapped his feet up and down against the pedals as he felt Chimney turn the engine off for safety.

"Eddie!"

"W-where the fuck am I?" He shook his head but it only made the unbalanced feeling get worse and turned the world on its axis. He could hear Buck calling out for him over the dull ringing in his ears.

"You're in the car, you've had a collision but we're gonna get you out, just hang tight." Chimney patted his shoulder before he jumped down and leaned over to talk to Bobby. "I can't get to (Y/n), she's unresponsive and Chris doesn't look too bad but he's unconscious in the back. Eddie's waking up,"

"Alright, Hen break the back window and get Chris checked out. Buck switch with Chim to get Eddie out and Chim, you and me will get on the engine and check (Y/n) through the windscreen. Go."

The truck was rammed in at all angles, the only way to get in the back would be to break the boot window and climb over to get Chris checked over. If he had no spinal or nerve injuries it would be a lot easier to get him out they could break the back window and ease him through that way. Eddie could get through the small opening in his door and wait near an ambulance if they could get him that far.

And for (Y/n), they were going to have to climb onto the truck and go through the already broken windscreen.

As soon as Eddie's horrendous roar emmited through their ears, Chimney moved and Buck hopped between the cars to get to the door and see what was going on.

"Eddie, hey it's Buck it's me! Let's get you out of here and I can help (Y/n), come on-"

"No!"

"Eddie I have to-"

"I can't- I c- Fuck!" Tears spilled down Eddie's face and he slammed his head back into the headrest and pummeled his left fist into the dashboard beside the steering wheel. He let his aching head flop to the right to look at his wife but when he heard the engine groaning from the team climbing up, his eyes shot up to look at Bobby. "Don't touch her!" His elbow flew into Buck to get him off before he reached up and held his arm out towards them.

"We need to check her over-"

"We're stuck!"

"Cap, they um… they're joined." Chimney crouched on his hands and knees as he leaned his head through the windscreen, being careful of the broken glass but he could see why Eddie was suddenly panicking.

In the struggle, Eddie had reached his arm out to try and help pin (Y/n) back in her seat so she didn't get whiplash or fly onto the dashboard. When metal chunks went flying through the windscreen, a long, thin shard of metal punctured through the middle of Eddie's hand and went into (Y/n)'s lower chest. They were pierced together, the team couldn't move Eddie without moving (Y/n) at the same time.

They were pinned.

"I'm gonna take a look I won't move either of you, okay?"

Chimney leaned his chest onto the dashboard and laid down so he could reach them easier.

The first thing he had to do was check (Y/n)'s pulse and her breathing. She had a pulse, her heartbeat was fluctuating and uneven but it was there and that was all he needed right now. He could see her chest rising and falling beneath Eddie's hand that was splayed out on her chest. Chimney kept his hands steady and firm and stretched his arms out towards them.

His hands patted over (Y/n)'s neck, shoulders and then down towards her legs before he moved back up to her chest.

"She's got a few broken ribs," He couldn't hide the grimace from his face when he pressed around (Y/n)'s hips and her torso. "I think her pelvis is broken. The metal is below her heart which is good, it might have pierced her stomach though. We have to move quick."

He couldn't add pressure to the wound and he couldn't cut off her blood supply because of where the wound was. (Y/n) needed circulation to the rest of her body, there was no way to cut off her blood supply to stem the bleeding like there would be if the metal was in her arm or her leg.

"W-what about Chris?"

"Hen how's Chris doing?" Bobby rested his hands on his knees and peered through to try and see Hen who was now sat in the back of the car next to Chris.

"Fractured arm, possible concussion but some glass had cut open an artery in his leg. I'm gonna have to do a stent and tie off his leg before we get him out."

"Oh God," Eddie tipped his head back and smothered his mouth with his hand to stop himself from screaming. He kept his palm pressed tightly to his mouth, morphing the Spanish prayer his mother used to use in times of crisis because if there were such things as miracles, Eddie sure as Hell needed one right now.

He darted his eyes back over to (Y/n) the moment he felt Chimney touching his impaled hand which flinched and twitched in response.

"It's a clean cut, looks like it's missed the main bones. Eddie, I'm gonna have to pull your hand off of the metal and (Y/n). The metal has to stay in her to stem the bleeding but we can pack and bandage your hand for the ambulance journey."

"Do it."

"I'll get you a shot of-"

"Just rip it off, we don't have time to fuck about. Get my wife out of here,"

He wasn't bothered about a shot of morphine which Eddie knew from experience would do very little to take the edge off. The most it would do was make him feel limp and lethargic and he couldn't afford to be anything other than awake and alert. He had to be with his family and keep watch over them. (Y/n) was the one who would need a shot of pain relief if she started to wake up from this.

Eddie wanted her in the ambulance as quick as they could manage.

"Alright, here we go." Chimney carefully strapped a neck brace around (Y/n) and tilted her head back before he rummaged around in his med bag Bobby handed over to him.

Eddie watched with pained eyes as Chimney cut a strip up the middle of (Y/n)'s top and ripped it away from the metal punctured through them both. A clean view was needed to pull Eddie's hand away and try to keep the metal as still within (Y/n) as possible so she didn't get any internal damage. His left hand curled around the steering wheel and he hissed through his teeth when he felt saline and a solution being squirted all around his hand and over (Y/n)'s chest and stomach.

"Keep your arm still and let me move your hand,"

He didn't need telling twice but he wished he had something to bite down on just in case either (Y/n) or Chris could still hear what was going on. He hated to scream in front of them but the pain was burning and it dragged out because Chimney had to move slow. At least when Eddie had been shot at, it had been quick and countered out by adrenaline.

Carefully and slowly, Chimney pulled Eddie's hand up until it squelched off the metal and was finally free. He handed Eddie's hand over to Bobby who washed it down in more solution before packing gauze to either side and wrapping a bandage tightly round to keep the pressure.

"Eddie we need you out so we can get a back board in there and move her."

"No, no I'll get her out with you," He flung his belt off to the side and shifted round in his seat, muffling a groan when he felt his knee twist and spasm. It was either dislocated or broken and Eddie hoped for the first.

He could do this. He was awake, alert and no longer punctured into his wife, he could get her out of here and he could help Hen get Christopher out if she needed assistance with that. He wasn't standing by like some idiot who didn't know what he was doing. He was part of this team and this was his job, they did this every day, it wasn't that much different. Eddie was just sitting on the other side of the line this time.

A silent look passed between Bobby and Buck and with a nod of his head, Bobby gave the order.

Eddie couldn't help with this. He was hurt, in pain and he was concussed, not to mention this was his family and he wasn't on shift. They wouldn't be liable if (Y/n) got injured during the process of getting her out and it was found out that Eddie helped get her out.

He was too close.

"Wh- no! Get off me! Let me GO!"

Scream after scream flew past Eddie's lips and he flung his arms out to grab the door frame when Buck held him under his arms and started to tug him out of the truck. He had to get out, they had to be quick and get (Y/n) and Chris out of there and Eddie couldn't help.

Buck held his breath, tensed his arms and pulled until his closest friend was out of the truck and his legs flopped beneath him to the floor like a rag doll. He didn't give Eddie the chance to try and scramble back into the car, he shuffled backwards and hoisted him along, kicking, screaming and elbowing him to get back in the truck.

Reaching behind him, Eddie dug his nails sharply into the back of Buck's neck and roared, pulling his head down with a jerk to try and get him to let go but it didn't work. Buck let him go and flopped him down onto unsteady feet before he moved round and stood in front of him like a boulder.

"Traitor!" Eddie slammed his fist down on Buck's shoulder but it didn't make that much of an impact and all Buck did was frown and look like he was about to cry. He was put in an awkward position and all he wanted to do was help but he couldn't let Eddie get involved in this. "T-they're my family, if they… I need to be with them,"

When Eddie slumped forward and pressed his forehead into Buck's chest, Buck wrapped his arms around him and held him up.

"I know, I know."

With Eddie out the truck it was easier to get in and get ready to move (Y/n). Bobby got the backboard while Chimney undid her belt and they both eased her up onto the board as slowly as they could so they didn't move the metal too much and rupture something. Once she was strapped on, Chimney pushed the board up through the windshield and climbed out with her.

"Go follow (Y/n) to the ambulance and I'll help get Chris out," Buck gave Eddie a nudge towards his wife before he headed over to the back door that was jammed up against another car. He noticed Hen had managed to roll the window down after she got Chris stabalised. "Pass him through and I'll carry him."

"Easy, do not move or jostle his leg or the stint won't hold,"

Chris was slowly passed between them and Hen held tight hold of his legs and helped shift him round until he was laid over Buck's arms. And just before he turned to run towards the ambulance, Hen leaned over and placed his penguin teddy on his chest.

"He'll be needing this."

***

"How are we doin' in here?" Bobby peered his head around the door and took a tentative step inside but what he saw melted his heart.

He noticed Buck first. He was sat in the plastic chair on the left side of the bed, his legs propped up and crossed on the bed and his body slouched back in the seat. His chin was resting on his hand and he was fast asleep, still in his uniform with his blazer slugged over the back of the chair.

On the floor by Buck's feet, was Chimney, sprawled out asleep with his arms folded over his chest and his head leaning on Buck's leg.

On the other side of the bed, sat Eddie. He was in a dark blue reclining armchair that had the bottom propped up so Eddie could stretch his legs out. His jeans were cut around the middle of his thigh on his left leg and his knee which was dark purple and swollen, was fitted in a brace. It had dislocated during the crash and putting it back in place had almost felt as bad as the cut in his hand.

His right hand had been stitched up and wrapped in a thick clean bandage that went down over his wrist for safety.

He had taken his shirt off in the emergency room so they could check him over and send him for an X-ray which they had also done on his hand and found only one little break in his hand. And now he was sat in just his jeans with a tight bandage wrapped around his lower chest since he had broken two ribs and fractured a third.

Despite the ache that was pulsing through every part of his body, Eddie was still sat in the chair with his son curled up in his arms.

They had put Chris under a mild sedation to fix his leg and bandage it up so he couldn't scratch or pull at his stitches and they had set his arm back in place and put it in a cast from his wrist to his elbow. But when he woke up, no one had been able to stop Eddie from picking him up and walking up and down the room with him like he was a newborn again. He swayed him in his arms, whispered and sang to him to calm him down and as soon as (Y/n) was out of surgery, they went to her room and refused to move.

The metal had successfully been removed and her stomach had been stitched up. Her pelvis was slotted back in place and bound tight just like her chest for her broken ribs and stitches.

She wasn't awake yet, but they weren't expecting her to be after the sedation she had been put under.

When Buck and Chimney found out that she had been moved into a room, they used their uniforms to get past the nurses and hid in her room with Eddie and Chris. And subsequently fell asleep.

"I think we're okay," Eddie waved Bobby inside before he rubbed at his tired eyes and tightened his arms around Chris who was sound asleep on his chest, cuddled up with his penguin. The weight was more comforting than aching and uncomfortable, Eddie would take any amount of pain if it meant his son was comforted and close to his chest.

He couldn't come close to losing either of them again.

"I'm glad to hear it, Hen's on her way down to pop by and see you."

"Cap?"

"Yeah?"

Eddie didn't know what he would have done if the team hadn't reached them so quickly or if they hadn't all have thought on their feet and got him and his family out of there. They didn't let their closeness cloud their judgements, they got everyone safe and got them out and did what was best.

"Thank you,"

[lowkeycasanova]

the fans love you

i feel like we all know that a lot of vinnie's fans send/spread hate whenever he's simply seen with a girl, but i decided to write this headcanon in which it's the opposite. where the fans absolutely love you

masterlist

————————————————————————-

At first he didn’t know how to approach the situation. You know, finally telling everyone he has a girlfriend. He was also nervous about the reactions. Not that he gave a fuck about what people were to say about him, it was you he was worried about.

And how would he do it? Would he make a tik tok? Would he post a selfie with you on his Instagram story and let people put two and two together?

You told him you didn’t care about what other people thought. Well, maybe deep down you cared a little. Who wouldn’t? But at the end of the day, you couldn’t control what other people said about you and their jealousy.

Vinnie didn’t know the photo had been taken until Jett sent it to him. It was a picture of Vinnie sitting on the couch, you in his lap, kissing each other with your hands caressing his face and his hands wrapped around your waist. Whoever took it was at a distance and zoomed in to take it. It was a chill night at the house. You thought you were alone. Guess not.

Vinnie said, “fuck it”, and posted the picture on Instagram. It was the third picture out of six for his camera roll dump. And tagged you.

You braced yourself for the comments/notifications. Vinnie was giddy with excitement as he knew he just dropped the bomb and there was no going back now.

You told yourself that you were just gonna ignore it for now. Check back in maybe three days.

It hadn’t even been thirty minutes and you opened the app. Disregarding the new activity on your end, you went straight to his comment section.

“oh so we hard launching now?”

“babe, that don’t look like me”

“This was my last straw”

“bout to take a bath with a toaster”

“I’m actually sick”

“Who tf is this?”

“SHES GORGEOUS”

“Y’all acting like he want y’all.”

“You two are so cute!!”

“W post”

Of course there were going to be negative ones. But to your surprise, it wasn’t as bad as you thought. There were also a good number of positive ones.

You go to your notifications and it’s flooded. Again, the negative comments were there. Some asking who you were and why you were with Vinnie. Some putting the throwing up emoji. Nothing that you didn’t expect. Even Vinnie was surprised at the response, so far. He was sure he was gonna have to tell some people off.

In the days to come, he started posting you more since it the relationship was no longer a “secret”. And honestly, it came natural, not looking like he was trying to show everyone he had a girlfriend. He posted you like he would post his friends.

You did the same. Although you both made sure that a lot of things were kept private.

His fans loved that they could see Vinnie from your point of view on your insta story. They loved seeing him act silly while y’all were out to lunch or out shopping because you dragged him. You liked being able to give them that content.

When he would post a video on tik tok and you were in it, some people would be like “she’s OUR gf” and he’d be like “bro what?”

You had an account of your own but wouldn’t post all that often. Vinnie’s fans would comment on his videos, telling him to tell you to post more.

When he streams, he’ll get a lot of “where’s y/n?” comments from viewers. Sometimes they would ask so much that he literally has to say that you’re not even there at the house. He would fake being offended that they weren’t playing attention to his game play. Not that he could blame them. He couldn’t stop thinking about you either.

There would be mail sent to the P.O. box with Vinnie’s name on the packaging label but every single item was for you.

When out in public, fans were just as excited to meet you. You can’t even count how many selfies you took with them.

Even the guy fans. Now, Vinnie isn’t the type to really get jealous, but you could tell something was up by how clingy he got after.

It’s like they loved you more than him and honestly, Vinnie couldn’t have been happier at the turnout.

[croucify]

✶ STARGIRL — hamzahthefantastic x reader

005 ✶ Falling For You

stargirl masterfile – next – previous

SUMMARY: hamzah has a crush on a youtuber who's always out and about and slushies see their relationship progress on social media! (smau)

DISCLAIMER: reader is a brown haired girl and for some pics that aren't faceless, i'll be using olivia rodrigo cause i love her and she’s filipino like me hehehe

hamzahthefantastic posted on their story !

vanna @slushyfan

hamzah in his new ig story… im tweaking

11 replies 25 retweets 59 likes

user673 he looks so good can y/n fight

user091 omg where is he going why’s he in a suit

↳ user524 oh mygooood do u think he’s going to the oscar’s with y/n

↳ user810 WAIT THEY DID MENTION THE OSCARS LAST VIDEO RIGHT

liked by rhode, wildflowercases, and others

ynln thank you so much @oscars for inviting me, best night everrr!!!

view comments

user570 YOURE SO BEAUTIFULLLL

user021 last pic is so real

user693 will there be a vlog for this omg

↳ ynln YES!!! i recorded my whole trip going to la and the oscars ++ many more :)))

user455 im so happy foruuuuu

ynlnupdates Such a beauty! ( liked by ynln )

thatmartinkid nice post can hamzah come home already

↳ ynln nooo let me have him for a few days plspls

↳ user017 WHATTTTTTT

↳ user526 OMFG SHES WITH HAMZAH

oscars + la vlog

66k views • 4 hrs ago

uploaded by ynln

the video started with you zooming into hamzah's back. he wasn't aware of your recording until he turned to face you.

"oh you're recording now," he lets out a chuckle, eyes looking up at you and not on the camera.

the next clip shows you and hamzah in the airplane, he was wearing his sony headphones while you had your wired earphones on. your head was on his shoulder and you had a hand wrapped around his bicep.

you smile at the camera then glance at him before squeezing his arm gently for him to look at the camera. he looks down at you and you were smiling at the camera, he smiles at you instead of the camera.

you proceeded to talk to the camera while hamzah listened to his music, your head still on his shoulder which he didn't mind.

during the flight, you ended up falling asleep on hamzah. he put the armrest up and slowly removed your hand from his bicep, letting you rest on his shoulder with his arm around you. he turned your camera on and showed you sleeping before he started making goofy faces at the camera.

the next clips were montages. it shows you and hamzah walking around lax then in the taxi you show the road before turning the camera to hamzah who was asleep.

“okay, so today, we’re going to the oscars!” you exclaimed.

you were already dressed up, seated in the car. hamzah was beside you but wasn’t completely seen in frame. “what movie do you think will win?” you showed hamzah and he was fiddling his fingers.

“i hope barbie wins,” he chuckles, looking between you and the camera.

as the night and recording went on, hamzah couldn’t remove his eyes off you. he was grateful he was the one filming you when you were posing for the carpet, it was even worse when they reached out for you to do the glambot. he was in awe. it was like seeing you in your element and he was able to capture it on camera for your vlog.

when you two entered the hall, you were now holding the camera and both your mouths formed into an o as you looked around the venue. you flip the camera while you continue talking about the celebrities you’ve just seen.

“oh my fucking god, we were able to talk to ariana greenblatt from barbie.” you said excitedly, almost tripping on the steps, hamzah immediately caught you, his hand wrapped around your waist.

you mutter a soft thank you before returning to the camera.

“she told us that she loves to watch us, said she loved my vlogs so much,” as you said this, the clip of you and ariana pops up on the screen. “and she also said the slushy virus got to her.” you giggle as you look up at hamzah, who was looking around for the seats assigned.

off camera—your hand was wrapped on hamzah’s arm almost the whole night, trying to get warm as it was a bit chilly inside the hall.

you start recording but your hands were shaking from how cold it is. hamzah takes both your hands in his and rubs them together, trying to make you warm but when you were still shivering, he takes off his blazer and wraps it around your shoulders.

“that better?” your faces were so close to each other, you could feel his breath fanning over your face.

you feel heat rising to your cheeks as you nod, looking away from him and returning your focus on the awarding—completely forgetting about how your camera was recording everything.

at the end of the video, you were still wearing hamzah’s blazer.

“that was sooo cool, i hope you guys enjoyed this video. some of the clips were filmed by the fantastic hamzah,” you said as you wiggled your eyebrows at the camera.

“i love you guys, see you next video!” you blow a kiss to the camera then it ends.

✶ taglist — @cdbabymp3 @noturbabe22 @dabuggh3 @kingvioleta @tumb1rgir1z @mfcherry @ldrvinyl LMK IF U WANNA BE ADDEDDD!!!

[sohnric]

sweet like candy – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: summer au, strangers to something more ?? fluff, suggestive. very much stargazing by the neighbourgood and fantasize by the boyz capsuled into a fic. eric is a simp and a hopeless romantic because i said so. a girl romanticizes sharing a lollipop (its me im girl)

warnings: alcohol, maybe some minimal swearing, a heated make out session that hints onto a hookup (no smut mentioned!). the use of a cheesy nickname babydoll (dont @ me or i will deactivate), reader has hair long enough for a claw clip

word count: 6.9k

a/n: almost cried while trying to name this fic somebody send help. Also this doesn't feel like my best work its kinda rushed imo but 🤠 yolo

part of the @deoboyznet summer on you event! cant believe i made it on time

a summer tradition of renting out a cabin every year invented by a couple of friends takes a turn for eric when a new addition to the circle brings him to his knees - in other words, he never knew tequila could taste so sweet.

If anyone ever asked Eric Sohn if he believed in love at first sight, he would, without a doubt, say yes. 

What was the proof he had? Well, absolutely nothing. All he ever knew about love at first sight was from romance movies he watched during lonely nights with his roommate Juyeon, never having the experience of the whole world stopping and zooming in on one particular person, taking his breath away– but to put it simply, Eric Sohn is a true romantic. Call him cheesy if you want– he wouldn’t like it, but he also wouldn’t disagree. 

On one summer afternoon, though, his world tilts in its axis– the moment comes, and he is finally able to test out his theory.

You walk out of the passenger’s side of a red 2008 Toyota Auris, hair put up into a claw clip, jean shorts showing off your long legs and a pearl white button-up opened and lazily thrown over your outfit, and suddenly, Eric Sohn finds his knees buckling and his palms sweating with affection. He was aware that Juyeon’s girlfriend was bringing her best friend to tag along to their little summer retreat (more like a trip to a cabin in the middle of the woods), but he sure as hell didn’t expect the stranger to make him feel this type of way. 

Sure, it might just be him being incredibly attracted to you. But with how fast his heart was beating when you smiled at everyone after introducing yourself to the group, he was sure he was slowly, but surely falling for you. And he was falling hard.

He feels like the world is moving in slow motion as he watches the group go and unload the car– you and your best friend Yeri were the last ones to arrive– and what wakes him up from the haze is when he watches you struggle to carry a cooler out of the trunk into the cabin, his legs dragging him closer to the vehicle and near to your body.

Now is his time to shine. “Let me help!” he hurries out, sneakers crunching on the gravel. His hands firmly grab onto the handle of the blue cooler, muscles flexing under the weight (making him wonder why you would willingly want to carry the thing and not ask him or any of the guys for help in the first place), and when your eyes look up at come in contact with his, he presses a smile to his lips. “I’m Eric, by the way.”

“Ah,” you gasp, a grateful expression breezing over your features, “thanks. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Eric hums, watching your every move. Your figure walks over to the front of the car, your head popping in close to the window to look inside, and when a satisfied look overtakes your features, Eric finds himself asking. “Is that everything?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “we can head inside, I think.”

The boy tries hard to keep his cool, he really does. But with how he’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy, attempting to find a topic that would engage him in a conversation with you, he feels like a boy that is just experiencing a crush for the first time in his life. Everything about you is enchanting– and sure, you could say he was just painfully attracted to you and this had nothing to do with love– but he was also convinced that if you asked him to jump off the Empire State Building, he would do it without giving it a second thought (which is kind of worrying, but again– it says a lot). 

You open the door to the cabin for him, and he finds himself speechless at the action. Once your eyes meet again and you offer him another subtle smile, he finds himself gasping at the sentence that comes out of your mouth.

“Hey! We’re matching, kinda,” you note, pointing towards his outfit.

And you’re right– Eric didn’t even notice at first, too enchanted with your sheer existence– but you two were indeed wearing the same thing. Jean shorts, and a white button-up– in your case, thrown over a white tank top, in Eric’s, closed (although he did leave it a bit open at the top, revealing his tanned skin). Suddenly, the boy is glad he’s wearing a red cap to cover up his hair, since he foolishly thinks the hat provides him enough shade in the face to not reveal his burning cheeks as he utters out a weak response.

“It looks so much better on you, though.”

With that, he walks into the cabin– escaping the situation, not really paying a single thought to chivalry and letting you go through the door first– and as he reaches the crowd of people in the kitchen, he prays for all high sources to find him, get to him and wipe his brain clean of all thoughts, because

even though you are basically matching (and he does think you look so much better in the outfit than he does), all he can think about is just how much more he’d like your outfit if the white button-up enveloping your body was the one he’s wearing right now instead.

The next time Eric finds courage to talk to you is when it seems like you’re not finding it to talk to anyone else yourself– the big group is currently sitting around a fire, marshmallows and sausages slowly burning in the blazing flames– and while everyone around was either talking to each other or singing along to the songs Jacob was playing on the guitar, you were sitting alone in the middle of two commotions: Chanhee and Changmin arguing about something seemingly important, and Yeri and Juyeon making out right in front of everyone’s eyes. 

And Eric was supposed to listen to Sunwoo talk about his latest heartbreak– how the man still gets no girls despite having such an objectively handsome face, Eric truly doesn’t know– but the topic of the conversation was too boring for him to engage with it. That, and he was also painfully aware of your every move– you didn’t even move much– and word– you weren’t talking to anybody– and that was slowly driving him insane.

You looked a little out of place. Eric supposes it was because you didn’t really know anyone here– except from your best friend and her awfully sappy boyfriend– but even though it was logical and a little expected for you to be a bit excluded in such a foreign circle, the man took it as his mission to make you feel as welcome and as included as he physically could.

Completely ignoring Sunwoo’s blabbering (like he was doing for the last few minutes anyway), Eric confidently (and a bit shakily– hands sweating and breath hitching in his throat) walks to the other side of the bonfire, from where he’s been watching your stone expression through the flames, and sits down in the small place between you and Changmin. Changmin wasn’t even facing you, too engrossed in the debate he was having with Chanhee, and so it was Eric’s job to wobble his bottom into the place, efficiently making the older boy move away with a light elbow jab sent into his lower back.

“Hi,” he clears his throat, “are you having fun?” he asks, but mentally curses at himself right as the question escapes his mouth– does she look like she's having fun? Of course she doesn't, you stupid idiot.

You smile at the question, though, nodding. “Yeah,” you hum, “having lots of fun listening to your friends argue and my friends making out next to my ear.”

“You seemed like it too, y’know,” Eric laughs, “they’re always like this, by the way. They’ll forget about the fight in the morning.”

“Oh, that could never be me,” you sigh, shaking your head at the sentiment.

“No?”

“No,” you shrug, “I get too petty. If we have a fight, I’m not speaking to you for at least two weeks.”

Eric finds himself laughing at your comment. “I’ll remember that for future reference.”

Straightening your back and looking at your companion– as if you were going to call him out on his subtle hint of there being any future meeting between the two of you– you suddenly gasp and swiftly turn towards the bonfire, an honest mourn escaping your lips.

“Oh fuck!” you curse under your breath as your hand reaches towards a stick that’s had its end in the flame, the device efficiently resting against a rock in a position where you didn’t have to pay any attention to the snack you were cooking– more like burning– for yourself. With a quick move for the stick, you pull the tip of it out of the scorching red of the bonfire and look at it in an examining way, as if the result would be different and the marshmallow would unburn itself if you stared at it long enough. “I completely forgot about this!”

Eric takes a glance at the burnt piece of fluff, letting out a laugh at the black marshmallow in front of your face. “That’s not how you make a good s’more,” he notes, poking fun at your annoyed face.

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock…” you mutter under your breath, but your face looks a bit sad to see the piece go to waste. “I don’t know why I even tried, I’m bad at this stuff.”

There comes his moment, Eric thinks. “Well, you’re lucky, ‘cause you just met an expert at making s’mores.”

“Does a thing like that even exist?” you chuckle, rolling your eyes at the male in disbelief. 

“Of course it does! You’re looking at one now,” he grins, leaning over you to take a brand new marshmallow out of the bag to your right– sandwiched between your thigh and the couple in love– before he reaches over to your hand and takes the roasting stick out of your hand, slides the white fluffy cloud through the sharp tip and hovers it above the flame.

“The key is to hold it above the flame, and not in the flame,” Eric chuckles as he looks at you from the corner of his eye, watching your expression change.

“Oh, but I thought the key is to burn the thing,” you ironically gasp, shaking your head at his teasing. “Where did you even learn all of this?”

“I grew up in the States,” Eric hums, “they would deport me if I didn’t know how to make s’mores.”

The comment gets a giggle out of you– a sound Eric almost folds at and falls into the open fire (thankfully, he held his composure– he doesn’t think 3rd degree burns would suit his look) – and it takes everything in him to not scream like a teenage girl at the thought of making you laugh. Yes, that’s how down bad you managed to get the male.

“Do you have a special recipe?”

“Just the basic one,” he shrugs, turning the skewer in his hand to make the marshmallow equally glazed on each side, “I will make it extra good for you, though.”

“I thought a master always does their best?” you tease, watching as the boy crumbles under your gaze.

“Not always. I don’t like to put effort into things that aren’t worth it,” Eric hums as he takes the marshmallow out of the burning fire, examining it, and after deeming it worthy, taking the skewer and holding it up in between his knees. The male takes a graham cracker and tears it in half, before adding chocolate to one of the sides. After he’s done, he carefully places the golden fluff ball onto the cracker and closes it, offering the sweet sandwich to you with a subtle smile.

“For you,” he winks as he turns back towards the fire, putting another marshmallow onto the stick to make himself a s’more as well (and also mentally kicking himself at the sudden burst of courage). He hears you take a bite out of the snack, his knee bouncing up and down nervously as he awaits the verdict.

“Man,” you hum, “this is so good.”

“Told you,” he says, “if there’s something I’m confident in, it’s making s’mores.”

“That’s a very unuseful skill to have,” you note, but continue to eat. The comment has him chuckle and shrug.

“Well, I used it now, so I’d argue it’s actually very useful.”

A hum cuts out of your throat at this, finishing the s’more he made for you with a satisfied sigh. “Is this how you got girls back in the States?” you ask, making the male choke on his spit.

Eric was too young to get girls when he learned how to make the greatest s’mores. He went camping with his dad and his older sister and he burned a couple before he got it right. He was in middle school and before what the kids call a glow-up these days (back in the days, you just called it overcoming puberty), but still– he decides to test the waters with another lazy, half-assed flirty comment. “Only the pretty ones.”

He hears a chuckle out of you– a reaction he decides to not pay much attention to or overthink, for he doesn’t really remember what a good reaction to flirting is anymore– but then, you sigh and nod. “Well, I give your s’more a 5 star review, so I’d find that believable.”

The comment has Eric press his tongue into the inside of his cheek, battling a victorious smile that wants to oh so desperately appear on his lips. Turning his attention fully to you, he looks at you with confidence coating his insides– it only grows when he notices you staring at the side of his face, the flame of the fire twinkling in your eye and making your features sharper and twice as attractive to the poor boy. 

His eyes scan you over for a few seconds before he notices a glimmer of something on the side of your lip– a chocolate stain that has him cautiously lean in and swipe a thumb over the sweetness, not even thinking twice before smoothing his finger over your skin. 

“You had a little… something there,” he hums as he licks the chocolate off his thumb. Your eyes still trained on him force him to avert his gaze back to the fire– for it was unbearable, as if sparks were flying and burning his skin, everything about the interaction making goosebumps appear over his body; even though he felt hot in his cheeks and not at all cold– when the sight of his marshmallow in flames suddenly comes to him, startling him awake.

Hurriedly dragging out the burnt snack out of the fire, he hears you chuckle at him from the side– so much for not ruining the moment. (It’s okay, though. As long as you’re entertained.)

“I thought you were a master at s’mores,” you poke fun at him, “got distracted?”

Meeting eyes with you, Eric shrugs, a lazy grin settling to his lips. “I guess you could say that.”

The night progresses quickly– with Sunwoo getting so drunk he borrows Jacob’s guitar and clumsily strums the strings, freestyle rapping about the most random topics with flushed cheeks and eyes dramatically glued to the fire; Hyunjae wanting to have a competition of who can jump over the flames and Sangyeon having to stop his drunk friend with the force of his own body– and Eric finds his eyes lacking the candy he’s been occupying himself with the whole evening. You disappeared somewhere into the house a few minutes ago, and although he didn’t want to be clingy, he walked up to the cabin with a nervous pep in his step– that’s it, he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Eric walks through the doorway, having his body immediately be met with the joined common room slash kitchen area. The cabin is kind of small (too small for the amount of people currently occupying it) and kind of old, but it’s a tradition to rent it every year during the summer, so no one ever questioned the decision or made the move to rent out a bigger one, no matter the growing friend group.

Your figure finally appears in the dimly lit kitchen area, your back turned to the doorway. Standing at the kitchen sink, it seems like you were doing the dishes– tons of plates used to carry grilled meat and sausages dumped carelessly into the sink, forgotten in a minute and leaving the last remains of food dry up on them and get hard to scrape off, a couple of glasses and mugs with their ears broken off from their age waiting with coffee stains at the bottom– and Eric immediately feels his heart fall down to his stomach, because why would one do the dishes in the middle of the night? Those usually get left there until the morning, when the least hungover person will take mercy on the rest and take care of them. Were you feeling excluded from the conversation? Did you feel bored? 

“What are you doing here so alone?” he asks, making you turn your head over your shoulder and smile at him– a stone falling off his heart at the action– before you shrug at him.

“Washing the dishes,” you say, as if it wasn’t clear already.

“I see that,” Eric chuckles, “what I meant to say was, why are you washing the dishes in the first place?”

“Well, somebody’s gotta do it.” 

Eric huffs– and he doesn’t even know why he’s so defensive about it. “That someone didn’t have to be you, y’know.”

He’s standing next to you now– your eyes meeting as you stare at the boy for a heartbeat– a smile spreading on your face at his furrowed brows. The action has him visibly relax, watching as you shrug and get back to the dish washing. “I just wanted some alone time for a bit,” you muse, “outside was getting too loud for a second, I’m not used to crowds.”

“Ah… once Sunwoo drinks, he can’t shut up, so I kinda get that it was starting to feel insufferable,” Eric notes, nodding at you in acknowledgement before the realization hits him. “Wait– you said you wanted to be alone, so I should probably-”

You halt him with a soft laugh– the one Eric finds his heart liking a little too much, with how it jumps up and down and makes all of him feel warm inside– a soapy hand reaching out in his direction. “It’s okay, you can stay,” you muse, “I enjoy your company.”

“O-okay,” Eric stutters– so much for the smooth lines he had prepared in his head before coming in here, all of them flying out of his head straight out of the window– and to not seem so silly, he gets his hands occupied and reaches for the clean dishes you started stacking on the counter next to the sink, deciding to dry them and put them away. The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence that only gets broken by an occasional scream landing through the walls from outside, and Eric can’t help but indulge himself in the domesticity of the act.

He can almost imagine you two washing the dishes like this in your shared apartment after you two cook dinner together and eat it in your cozy living room. That scenario sounds almost too good for the boy, having warmth slowly ooze into his cheeks, and that, he finds to be the hint that he should probably stop thinking about you in that way now or else he’ll get too distracted and break the glasses he is currently putting away. (God forbid– there were not enough of them for the entire friend group in the first place.)

“Are you having a good time, though?” Eric finds himself asking through his weird delirium.

You smile– oh god you smile, you should stop doing that if you want him to survive the night– and nod at the boy, calmness overtaking your aura and slipping into his cracks as well. “I am. It’s nice meeting new people and everyone’s very nice,” you say.

“That’s good to hear. How long have you and Yeri been friends?”

“A couple of years,” you note, “we met during high school. We always dreamt of moving away to college and living together at dorms or something, so it’s… it’s nice that it worked out for us,” you say, having Eric nod at your words with a sweet smile.

“That’s great to hear,” he muses, “I met Juyeon and Sunwoo in my freshman year of college, and the rest just… came along after a while.”

“Your friend group is pretty big,” you point out, having the boy shrug.

“I guess so,” Eric mumbles, never really thinking of it this way– in his eyes, this was normal. This was how he operated, how he lived. A lot of people around him, always close– one would think such a large friend group wouldn’t be as close with each other, but it’s quite the opposite in his case, he thinks. Maybe he was just blessed.

“How do you do that?” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I dunno,” he snickers, “guess you could say I’m quite the social butterfly.”

“I can see that,” you laugh. Eric watches you, his hands now empty of any dish– he’s been drying them quicker than you manage to clean (and rightfully so, the food is stuck on there) – he starts noticing the details of your sheer presence. How you have a slight smile playing with your lips even when your eyes are glued to the sink, how your hair slightly slips out of the claw clip and frames your face, how close you’re standing– his eyes slip towards your hands, noticing the water running down your forearms and dangerously close to the sleeves of your shirt.

Acting on reflex, mostly, the boy reaches towards your sleeves and gently tugs them up, the contact of your skin that he initiates and should realistically be prepared for making the tips of his fingers tingle, the action having you stop in your movements and glance up at him through your eyelashes– a sight he wishes he could engrave into the back of his eyelids so he could stare at it forever and always.

“Thank you,” you hum, voice barely louder than a whisper when he retracts away from you, taking his previous stance against the kitchen counter.

Eric hangs his head low for a second, clearing his throat to ease his own tension. Now is your turn to start up the conversation, a casual question falling off your lips as you get back to washing the last remains of dishes. “Yeri said you come here often?” 

The boy nods enthusiastically to your sentence. “We do. We started in freshman year, because Juyeon was going to this exchange program to Paris for a couple of months, so we threw him a goodbye party. Then he came back, so we threw a welcome back party here. And then we celebrated Younghoon hyung’s birthday here, and it kind of stuck, I guess? We go here at least once a year during summer.”

“That’s a nice tradition to have,” you sigh, turning the faucet off as you finish rinsing off the last dish– a big bowl that Sangyeon used to marinate the meat a few hours ago.

“It is,” Eric nods, smiling fondly at the sentiment. He reaches for the bowl and dries it with the now damp rag (there were a lot of dishes to dry, after all), and moves to put it back to its place under the sink. With your figure still in its previous spot, the boy puts away the towel onto the kitchen counter and gently grabs your waist with his free hand, moving you away a few inches to the left. He crouches and opens the cabinet under the sink and puts the bowl into the pyramid of other ones, straightening his back when he goes back into a standing position, catching you staring at him from above, watching his every move. Your body is leaning against the counter, having Eric mirror your stance only a few inches away from you before speaking up again. 

“You’re welcome to join us when we come back next time.”

The time reads 3AM– or at least that’s what his circadian rhythm tells him, because he doesn't bother to check as he twists and turns in the bed, too hot and too alert to fall asleep– when Eric decides to walk down the steep stairs and try to get some fresh air. The cabin is hot inside, but he still takes his lost button-up that he had thrown over one of the kitchen chairs and puts it on before he makes his way outside, knowing that the forest will make his bones get cold with the crisp breeze. 

He opens the door and moves to sit on the little patio– the silence of outside is overwhelming even after the cabin has quieted down and everyone has gone to sleep (each one on a different level of tipsy ranging from completely chill Sangyeon to doesn’t know where he is Sunwoo– with Eric somewhere in the middle of the spectrum). His legs drag a little tiredly as he scans his surroundings– god forbid there’s a bear out waiting for him– when the sight of a figure sitting on the floor takes him by surprise, their head already turned to him after hearing the sound of the door opening. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he walks over to you, noticing your frame dressed in a tank top and sweatpants, hinting that you at least tried to get some sleep before coming out here, just like he has.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug, confirming his suspicions.

“Same here,” the man sighs, “mind if I sit with you?”

“You’re welcome to join me,” you smile at him, patting the floor next to you and watching as Eric crouches down before taking a seat on the wood, ignoring the sunbeds and old rattan chairs situated all over the patio. (If you’re on the floor, he’s on the floor– it’s as simple as that.)

You’re holding a lollipop in between your fingers, your other hand occupied with a half-empty bottle of tequila that was previously passed around the circle at the bonfire. Eric raises his brows at the sight, having you shamefully avert your gaze from him.

“I thought it would be a waste to not finish this,” you say, snickering, “and I also… kind of hoped that it would put me to sleep…”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?” 

“I guess you could say that,” you laugh. Taking a sip from the bottle, you gulp the alcohol down before putting the lollipop inside of your mouth, sucking on it and licking your lips after. This is not the way you’re supposed to drink tequila, but Eric figures that gathering salt and a lime would be too much work anyways.

“Are you really using that lollipop as a chaser?” he giggles, making you hum.

“Yeah,” you stare at him, a grin overtaking your features, “this girl taught me to do that at a party last year. It’s not as good as literally anything else, but it gets the job done. Wanna try?” you ask, offering him the sweetness on the stick and the bottle.

The truth is, you were only a bit tipsy when the group slowly started to scatter into their beds. Eric didn’t drink as much either– only enough to make him laugh at everything that was said and make his staring at you twice as obvious as it was before– so he thinks he can take some more. As you said, it would be a shame if the bottle went to waste– and also, something about the idea of drinking with you alone on the patio was making his hopeless heart hammer against his chest in dangerous measures.

“Sure,” he agrees, taking the bottle first. The boy takes a sip, feeling the alcohol burn down his throat, and when he moves the dark brown glass away from his lips, he is met with the image of you leaning closer to him, offering him the lollipop. His hand instinctively grabs the plastic stick, thinking you’re letting go of it, when he’s met with the feeling of your flesh under his fingertips. You put the lollipop against his lips, making him open up on instinct and suck on the strawberry flavored candy, a million different sensations (all unrelated to the alcohol) swimming through his brain– you’re so close, you smell so good, he’s holding your hand, he’s sucking on the lollipop you previously had in between your lips and it’s driving him crazy– before you take the candy out from between his lips and put it back into your mouth, tongue swirling around the sweet ball. 

The lollipop had an aftertaste of tequila on it, but it was enough to chase down the faint bitterness– Eric finds himself wanting to taste more of the sweet strawberry, but foolishly desiring to get the sensation off your lips instead. His eyes stay locked with yours throughout the whole exchange, sparks flying in between the two of you even though the bonfire has long gone out, his fingers lazily dropping from the candy.

“How was it?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper– goosebumps appearing all over Eric’s skin when he swears your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second. 

“Good,” he admits. It’s silly how he feels so breathless at the action.

The sound of the wind playing with the leaves of the forest is the only thing accompanying you two. It’s as if you two were thinking of the same thing when you pull out the lollipop out of your mouth and offer it back to Eric, watching with utmost interest as the boy leans closer to capture it in between his lips, never breaking eye contact. The action feels a little too electrifying to him, a little too intimate, but he can't stop– can't even imagine wanting to.

Taking a sip of the tequila, but not chasing it down with the candy, you speak up again, lazy eyes practically glued to him. “This would be a perfect moment for a kiss…” you mumble, licking your bottom lip for a split second before biting down on it.

“Are you flirting with me?” Eric foolishly asks, tone of voice a bit weak, a little unsure, the candy still in his mouth, making his words come out a little jambled.

“Mhm,” you nod, grinning to yourself– Eric wonders how much of your behavior and how much of his raging heartbeat is due to the effect of alcohol in both of your veins.

His fingers pull at yours as he takes the candy out of his mouth, voice dropping as he answers you. “Then we probably shouldn’t waste the moment.”

Even though the intentions are clear, the boy can’t bring himself to make the first move– he’s completely enchanted with your presence, staring at you with tension in his shoulders and eyes trained onto your face, watching and examining it for any shift or change. Focused on the way you move, he thinks you must have realized you were going to have to be the one to take the first step– your lazily smile before you lean closer, impossibly close– making Eric’s eyes flutter shut with anticipation, your breath fanning his face making goosebumps appear all over his body.

When your lips finally touch his, he feels like he’s being kissed for the first time again, with the amount of fuzziness in his stomach and buzzing in his ears. He regains his composure quite quickly, though, as he positions his head in a way that makes you two even closer to each other, lips pressing firmer against yours now. His hand instinctively reaches out to hold your jaw, fingertips glazing the soft skin under them, your lips retracting only to go in for more. 

Blindly placing the bottle onto the floor next to your bodies, you peck his lips and sigh into the kiss. “Damn, you’re good at this…”

“We’re only getting started,” he muses, making you chuckle. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” he nods, watching as you once again lean in and suck on his upper lip, making his eyes flutter close again. A weight appears over him as you shift in your place and move to straddle his lap, your hand moving to cup his cheek and tilt him upwards, everything about the kisses getting more hurried– less gentle, less hesitant– when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth and grant your tongue entry into his mouth.

Sweetness mixes in between you, your hands moving around his neck, heavy breaths shared across the patio. Eric feels like he’s levitating, his body having an out of body experience, yet being awfully present– every little shift pushing him to overdrive, the slightest touch making his skin burn and heart drum against his ribcage.

You shift in his lap, making him huff under the pressure, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck. Teeth glazing the jointure of your shoulder, kitten licking the place and sucking in a bruise that will eventually be visible to everyone when you two wake up in the morning, Eric feels your hands tugging down the sleeves of his shirt, fingers feeling up his biceps. The action makes him chuckle into your neck, but the smile fades quickly as he feels your nails scratching gently at his flaming skin.

“Take this off,” you mutter, and Eric finds it endearing– helping you take him out of the button-up, sitting under you in just a white tank top and black basketball shorts. 

“Why?” 

“Your arms looked good in this,” you hiss before you hide your face into his neck, leaning down to give him your fair share of kisses and love bites, having the male teasingly joke as his hands run up under your tank top, painfully aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra anymore.

He moves his head to the side to give you more access before speaking out, tone of voice husky and coated in lust. “What if I get cold now?” 

“Then I’m more than happy to move this to your room,” you purr into his ear.

Eric sighs, fingers playing with the hem of your top before he lets his palms drift towards your exposed stomach, roaming across naked skin. Goosebumps appear all over your body at the action, making the boy victoriously grin. “It looks like you’re the one that's cold, though, babydoll.”

Rolling your eyes at the male, you shut him up by latching yourself onto his lips before you speak against his mouth. “I’ll take that as an invitation, then?”

“Wake up Eric! The girls are leaving, you should at least go say goodbye!” Sangyeon roars into the boy's room, making the male turn over in the bed and huff out in frustration. He drags his arm up to shield his eyes from the sunlight hitting his face, the intention of just rolling over and sleeping more written very clearly in his face.

“Come on man, we’re leaving in an hour too, so you should go send them off and then pack your shit so we can load the cars,” Sangyeon says when he gets no reaction from the youngest. It’s to no use, apparently, and so as the oldest and most observant out of the group, Sangyeon decides to use physical force– he knows Eric would hate to have you go without saying goodbye. He’s not stupid. Or blind. 

A strong hold on his calves drags Eric out of the bed and makes his half-naked body fall to the floor, a yelp coming out of his throat finally making Eric’s body fully alert and awake. 

“Yo! What the fuck–”

“Put a shirt on and go say goodbye to Y/N before she goes, would you, sleeping beauty?” Sangyeon huffs before rolling his eyes at his younger friend, escaping the room and shutting the door close after himself with a loud thud (to add more effect to the scolding, Eric thinks).

The mention of your name has Eric quickly scrambling out of the bed. His heart hammers at the adrenaline rush, pulling a clean shirt out of his bag and dragging it over his head, the basketball shorts from yesterday’s night found on the floor being pulled over his lower frame in approximately 0.5 seconds. Eric takes the stairs 3 at a time– with how steep they are, he questions how exactly does he not trip and break his spine on his way down– and puts on a pair of slippers he finds at the door (that are not his, or his size, for the matter, making his heels comically stick out from the back). 

Without checking his appearance in the mirror anywhere, he swings the door open and walks out of the cabin, watching as the group settles in a half-circle around your car, Yeri loading the trunk with her duffle bag before she closes it shut and smiles at her boyfriend Juyeon on the side. Eric joins the crowd, clearing his throat when his eyes fall onto your figure, the sight in front of him freezing him in his spot.

You’re standing there, in your jean shorts from the day before, an oversized white button-up enveloping your frame. A clueless stranger might not tell the difference, but he does– you put the shirt onto your bare skin and buttoned it just enough to reveal a bit of your cleavage– and it’s so similar to the outfit you had on yesterday, just with one difference. 

You’re wearing Eric’s shirt. You’re wearing his shirt and your neck is scattered with red and purple-ish bruises, and no, Eric wasn’t that drunk and he remembers everything, but the events of last night suddenly play out right in front of his eyes like a movie, still nailing him to his spot and wiping out all of his vocabulary.

The boy feels hot in his cheeks as he watches you and your best friend pay your goodbyes to the rest of the boys, the men pulling you into side-hugs and fist bumps, shared ‘It was nice meeting you’s and ‘You should come by next time too’s resonating through the place. Soon enough, you reach the end of the make-shift half circle and lock your eyes with Eric, a playful smile softly appearing on your face.

“It was nice meeting you, Eric,” you hum, “I had fun,” you note, shooting him a knowing look.

“Me too,” he nods, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. He doesn’t know where the confidence of last night went, but he suddenly feels unarmed and lost. What does one do now?

The sight of you in his shirt makes him feel like his biggest (wet) dream has come true– call him cheesy, but it also wakes up a sense of déja vu in him from the day before– you with sunlight in your eyes, hair messed up in a claw clip. He feels like he just fell in love at first sight again. Is that even possible?

It’s good you have a sense in you that makes you take the initiative and be in charge when you see him faltering. A giggle cuts out of your throat as you lean in and hug the boy around his neck, your lips dangerously close to his ear as you speak in a hushed whisper, not wanting to be heard by the men around you.

“I stole your shirt from you, by the way. You should text me if you want it back, so we can meet up, or something,” you mouth, lips gently glazing the sensitive skin of Eric’s ear, and god does he feel like he's going to suffocate from the lack of oxygen this causes in his lungs.

“You look amazing in my clothes, so I won’t ask for it back,” Eric hums, “but I’ll text you just in case you ever wanna bless my eyes with the sight again.”

“Deal. I’ll make Juyeon text me your number,” you say before you pull away from him, shooting him a wink that almost has his knees buckling like a school boy in love for the first time.

You walk backwards and wave at the group, sending Eric one last look before you join the passenger’s side and close the car door behind you, the sound of Yeri starting the engine resonating through the quiet forest. The men wave at you until the Toyota disappears out of sight, only scattering inside when it does to gather their things and load up their cars as well.

Eric is woken up from his trance by a teasing whistle coming out of Sunwoo’s mouth and a father-like slap to his back from Sangyeon.

He wonders if he’s truly being so obvious. (He's unaware of the fact that you two had very visible matching love bites on your necks. It doesn’t take much effort to put two and two together– don't tell him that, though.)

Still, Eric shrugs and goes inside with a different kind of pep to his step. 

When he licks his lips, he swears he can still taste the strawberries.

[forteafy]

Constellation of Three | DR3 [1 of 10]

Summary: Some things have been written in the stars before the beginning of time. Daniel Ricciardo having a single mother as his neighbour has always been written into his narrative. He just didn't realise she would become the love of his life. Part 1 of 'Constellation of Three' series.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of Childbirth, but only briefly. Alphatauri Daniel!

An understanding many people have had for years is that the core events of your life are mapped out in the stars; whether it be your career, your future spouse or the friends you decide to hold close. 

Everything had been planned out so perfectly for you. You’d flew through your exams, landing on one of the most prestigious event planning companies in Europe. Business had been your forte, yet with that creative flair, events seemed to be your calling. After six months of working underneath a supervisor, you had been summoned by their superior to overtake their responsibilities, landing you a comfortable salary and a new residence. 

A new residence nestled in the streets of Monte Carlo. 

The company you worked for specialised in high-end events and were incredibly well known by the hotels and casinos of the luxury city. Events were a common occurrence and with the skillset you had obtained, they practically laid out the red carpet for your arrival. 

There was one star however, that glowed brighter than the others. One which in your mind had been the most unexpected of them all. 

Blaire had come into your life as the unexpected shooting star; one night on your third year of higher education with a man who had since disappeared out of your life, lead to the appearance of the sweet baby girl. You’d been lucky, going through the biggest stages with your mother by your side. The morning sickness, hours of labour. Everything made sense the moment that sweet girl had been placed into your arms. 

That was the silent promise; the promise you’d do everything in your power to give the girl everything she desired. 

You’d found that companies were a lot more lenient on children when their parents were as gifted as you; there had been more than one occasion where Blaire would make an appearance whilst on a zoom call or when meeting with clients to discuss their visions for events. She was a gorgeous young girl with big brown eyes that could melt even the iciest heart. 

She was your pride and joy. 

That didn’t mean she was the sweet angel described the entirety of the times. Blaire had a temper that could challenge the heat of the earth’s core, and that was seen no clearer than the Monday morning she was due to return to her pre-school. 

The summer break had done you both wonders; you’d been able to secure several jobs leaning into the autumn and wintertime as well as being responsible for organising the Metrepole’s summer gala; the praises you had received almost too overwhelming. Between all this, you’d managed to whisk your daughter to Paris for a week too. Her eyes in awe of the bright pink castle and Mickey Mouse ears as far as she could see. 

But now? Blaire was screeching, tears rolling down her cheeks as you took away her Minnie Mouse ornament for the fourth time. You weren’t being deliberately mean, the last time she had taken in something fragile to show her friends, it had come back in broken pieces and a meltdown from your little girl that was undesirable.

Almost as unwanted as the current one.  Almost. 

“Mama!” Blaire had screamed again, her hands trying to grasp for the ornament you had now placed on top of the fridge, well away from prying hands. “Mama! I want it!” 

“Baby.” You’d crouched down by now, holding eye contact with the young girl. It. had always been found to treat meltdowns like this with comfort. She was only three, she didn’t always understand about why some things could never go her way. “You need to listen. If you take it, it could get broken, and we can’t get another one, can we?”

Blaire’s screams turned into sniffles, her hand rubbing against her eyes before falling into your chest, snuffling into your skin. “I wanna show Masie.” She mumbled, entranced with the idea of her best friend seeing the statue she had been in awe of since their first day in Disneyland. 

You hesitated. “Why don’t you take your new plushie to show her? Then we can invite Masie for dinner this week and we can show her then, yes?” You tried to reason, tucking one of her baby hairs behind her ear; the braids you had done less than an hour ago were already beginning to unravel. 

It was like a switch had been flipped; Blaire shot out of the kitchen, diverting to her bedroom and came back a moment later with her new plushie, a grin now plastered on her face, red eyes already fading. You couldn’t help the smile on your own face, now seeing the girl ready to face the day. 

With shoes on and her cardigan around her shoulders, you opened the front door, ushering Blaire out first. Carefully, you closed the heavy latch, hearing the satisfying lock when twisting the keys. 

“You ready, baby?” You’d asked, waiting for a response or simply for the girl to begin babbling. When there was no response, you looked down, not seeing the girl by your side. Your blood ran cold for a second, only letting yourself breathe when you looked up, seeing the situation unfold in front of you.

Apartment 65, the one next door to you which had been empty since your arrival, was now seemingly occupied. At the front door, stood a man; dark curls, brown eyes, holding a large box cautiously. Next to him, stood Blaire, her plushie abandoned on the floor, and holding a cushion up towards the man. 

Blaire wasn’t afraid of much, especially not strangers. Whilst her mother was locking up their home, she’d seen the man struggling with his box, a cushion falling off the top of it whilst attempting to open door. She’d heroically seen her mother help so many people over the years, so why could she not do the same.

The girl had run over, dropping her plushie and instead picking up the cushion, holding it up towards the man in question. He’d grinned at the small child, heart melting by the interaction. After placing his own box down, letting it prop open the front door, he’d crouched down, taking the cushion from the small child.

“Thank you!” He’d grinned, placing the cushion on top of the box. He held his hand out to the young girl, smiling as she placed her hand in his, shaking it gently. “I’m Daniel. What’s your name?”

“I’m Blaire!” She had told him instantly, before looking back up the corridor. “And that’s Mama!” She had pointed towards you, seeing your figure come down the corridor, a visible look of relief on your face. 

The man stood back up, watching as Blaire walked back over to you, taking your hand in her own, smiling at her mother. You couldn’t bring yourself in that moment to tell her off, understanding she had only wanted to help somebody in need. 

“Did you make a new friend, baby?” You asked, looking back up to the man in question. Seeing him closer had made your heart flutter; his eyes were a rich colour, curls littering the top of his face. His smile was truly to die for, you were almost certain you’d never seen one like it before. 

“Sorry.” You continued, eyes finally meeting with his own. “I think she was only trying to help, right Blaire?” You ask, looking back down to the young girl. She nodded in response, looking back over to the man in front of them both. 

“This is Daniel!” She explained to her mother, Daniel himself smiling at the two. You nodded in understanding.

“Ahh. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Daniel.” You grinned, telling him your own name in that moment. 

“It’s nice to meet you too!” He responded. “You’re my neighbours then?”

“We are.” You looked back towards your own front door, nodding towards the next apartment down. “This place has been empty since I got here, we’ll be happy of the company, won’t we, Blaire?” The young girl nods, eyes wide at the prospect of a new friend. 

“Can I show Daniel my statue?” She asks, tugging your hand gently. You can’t help but laugh; less than a few moments in and she’s already wanting to show off her shiny new piece. 

“Maybe later, baby. We need to get to school, yeah?” You remind her, seeing her face soften and nod. 

“I’ll come and see it soon, yeah?” Daniel confirms. The man knew how younger children could be. His own niece and nephew could be the exact same. However, even the slight thought of them right now was enough to make the lump in his throat appear. 

Since his return to Alphatauri had been announced, the driver had been adamant on making the more positive choices in his life. He’d been given his new opportunity. Something out there, out in the stars had this lined up for him. 

The man had moved back into Monaco, determined to make a fresh start. Heck, he’d even bought himself a new camera in order to restart his .jpg account during his new adventure. However, it had meant after six months of practically living alongside his family back in Perth, he had to say goodbye. Saying farewell to his mother had been bad enough; feeling his niece and nephew hug him for the last time had been even worse. 

Daniel had to take a breath to stop the tears pooling in his eyes. Instead, he turns his attention back to the two figures in front of him, his ears registering as the young girl began to talk again. 

“See you later, Daniel!” Blaire is quick to wave goodbye, one hand still firmly attached to her mothers. You had nodded to the man, before letting Blaire lead you towards the elevator, running to press the buttons that glowed in the darkened lift. 

The man can’t help but watch as the two of you walk away, mesmerised by the interaction which had just unfolded. When moving into this complex, he had only been told the basics; there was a swimming pool downstairs, a gym if anything was needed, a concierge service for any parcels or presents.

He wished to the stars that somebody had told him of his neighbours; a beautiful woman with the most adorable toddler alongside her. 

When first seeing you, your youthful appearance and considerably shorter height than him, he was almost convinced you were Blaire’s sister; he had been taken aback when the young girl had announced yourself as her mother. His heart softened, almost convinced that you must have been taken then. There was no way a woman as beautiful as yourself could be single. 

His eyes during the short interaction had darted down, seeing the lack of rings on your left hand. However, that meant nothing. You weren’t married, nor engaged, but surely you must have at least had a significant other? 

The questions flittered through his head as he crouched down to pick up the box once again. This was the last one; he’d been lugging his belongings through the building since 8am and had only realised once he’d finished that the apartment was lacking in some furniture. 

Monaco was known for luxury, but there was nothing like a quick trip to IKEA on a quiet afternoon, right? 

His train of thoughts were disrupted by an item discarded by his front door. There, lied a Minnie Mouse plushie, one he then and there deduced must have been left by the young girl. Daniel murmured a word to himself, picking up the teddy and looking towards the elevator. His eyes then darted towards the staircase, huffing as he left the box inside his apartment, made sure the key was nestled in his pocket, before running towards the stairs, adamant to meet you both at the bottom. 

The plushie at this present moment, was the last thing on Blaire’s mind as she had continuously begun to ramble to you about her new friend, Daniel. 

“Can we invite Daniel for dinner, mama?” She had asked you, already in awe of the gentleman next door. You had smiled gently at her newfound awe, secretly glad that their new neighbour seemed as if he could handle a toddler’s meltdown in the forthcoming future. 

“I’m sure we can, sweetheart.” You confirmed, seeing that the elevator was about to land on the ground floor. You straightened up, ready to walk straight from the lobby towards your car. However, as the door opened, you saw a figure standing in the walkway.

Daniel. Holding your daughter’s plushie. 

“Sorry- “he started, moving out of the way of you both, keeping the plush in his grasp for a moment. “You forgot this. I didn’t want her to lose it!” He explains, holding out the teddy towards Blaire. Your daughters’ eyes widen upon realising that this man, her saviour, had now rescued her teddy, holding the toy close to her chest. 

Your own cheeks turned red upon the realisation of how that looked; you’d forgotten to check for your child’s toy. Daniel had been your saviour in that moment too; god knows the kind of reaction you would have had if you had made it to school with the lack of that toy. 

“Thank you- so much.” You sigh, relief visually flooding your own body. Daniel can see this, nodding and resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“My niece used to leave her barbies everywhere.” He explains, trying to make you feel better whilst Blaire held the toy to her chest, happy with the reunion. “I remember when we had to search the entire beach for her surfing Barbie.” Daniel can’t help but grin at the memory, seeing his family frantic in finding the godforsaken doll. 

“Oh god-“ You laugh, beginning to walk towards the centre of the lobby, leading you towards the private car park. “I can only imagine. We’ve had that a few times. Blaire is a criminal for leaving her toys at the office.” She explains. You begin to tell Daniel the story of how the young girl had left her doll at your office during one of your meetings. You’d had to return to the building at 7pm that evening in order to retrieve the doll after frantically ripping your apartment apart, convinced it was there. 

“Well look.” He grins, walking in step alongside you. “If you ever need a toy hunting partner, I’m right next door.” The man reminds you. There’s no flirtation in his voice, in his mind, he simply wants to be nice to his new neighbour, whether the circumstances would change. 

“I’ll be holding you to that.” You grin. “Have a good day, Daniel.”

“You too.” He offers one final wave to the two girls as they make their way towards the car. He can’t help but smile, mesmerised by the interactions. 

Maybe this was something that had always been laid out in the stars, always awaiting him. 

[pascallatte]

Oi, Pedro!!

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actress!reader

Summary: Y/N and Pedro’s friendship from the pov of fans and friends collected in 2012.

Date: December 2012

Warnings: age gap but still platonic!reader but with a hint of something cause 👀 friends don't- you know what you’ll know once you read it. a curse word.

A VIDEO COMPILATION OF Y/N AND PEDRO'S "FRIENDSHIP" the year 2012.

P.s. This contains videos posted by fans and friends so this is the quick buildup of their relationship when they were seen together last April to November 2012

Vid 1: caught by fans last April, doing an ice cream run the night before Pedro’s birthday.

Whispers were heard as the video started, the camera clears out and zoomed in on the pair on the far side of the sidewalk.

“Is that really them?” the guy walking ahead asks.

“Of course, I know and I’m sure that’s Y/N.” The one who’s recording zooms in on the pair.

“Oh my Godd” she let out a loud gasp as she shook her male friend,” She’s with Pedro!!”

“Who?” The guy asks as he tries to get a clearer look at them.

“PEDRO PASCAL! You douche! Look they’re getting ice cream, come on let’s go say hi”

The video focuses on the two of you who were standing in line, in front of the ice cream stand. You are seen chatting with him, rather enthusiastically before bending down to somehow calm yourself down after all that laughter.

Pedro who was listening to you the whole time tried to help you up as you continue to fall down to a kneeling position before threading his arms around your waist in a way to stabilize the woman he was with. They calmed down after a few seconds before it looked like you were beckoning Pedro to share his thoughts as he was then seen explaining with the same enthusiasm you did a while ago.

The one recording got close enough to start a conversation and she did.

“Hi excuse me, sorry for disturbing your time. But I just wanted to say that I am a big fan of you, y/n, and I’m hoping to see you in more projects in the future.” The girl starts as she focuses the camera on you who, in shock, moved behind Pedro while clutching the side of his jacket.

“Oh hi! Thank you for the support and uhm you weren’t disturbing us, and uh- yeah, Thank you again!!” You said somewhat nervously as you shyly giggled while looking at the pair who approached you and then at Pedro, with a somewhat “I don’t know what else to do, help me” look.

Guys the look!!! The motherfreaking look, Y/n gave Pedro AAAA that isn’t a look friends give each other if they’re asking for help but for the sake of this video I’m gonna let you guys judge.

The video resumes as Pedro clears his throat and with a small smile, he begins,” AH yes thank you for the supporting y/n but we really need to go. It was nice meeting you yeah?”

And as if god was with them, as soon as Pedro finished talking, their ice creams were done and he was seen taking both before pulling you by the hand.

“Oh, it was nice meeting you too, and have a happy birthday tomorrow sir!!” The male friend says before he was seen ordering.

Walking away, you were seen smiling towards the camera mouthing a small thank you, before side-hugging Pedro as a sign of thank you.

Ok but that was cute… I cannot think of anything but Pedro understanding the look on y/n’s face as she looked up at him

Vid 2: a very old ig story from one of the producers of Supernatural, September 2012, finishing up se 8 in Vancouver

Music was heard blaring in the background. They were in some sort of resto-bar in Vancouver as they were shooting for Supernatural SE 8. The video camera then flips to show two of the show’s producers with the on-show siblings: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Y/N L/N who was seen wearing only a knitted jumper set and a beanie.

They were asked to say hi one by one before Pedro, who was trying to stay hidden, was seen seated just right beside you.

now hold up, ever since I watched this, it made me curious as to why Pedro was there if he wasn’t part of the cast. It’s cute that they’re seen hanging out and supporting each other’s works but really, you’re gonna fly to Vancouver just to hang out OMG I’m telling you, guys, something is up between the two.

The video then continues to rotate as the producer shows the interior of the place they were at, he then starts talking about the upcoming release of supernatural season 8. But despite the loud music in the background, a short whispered conversation was caught in the recording.

A small voice saying “cold” was the first thing heard followed by a loud “what?”.

But when the video camera rounds the table once again it was then clear that you and Pedro were the ones whispering to each other.

The camera was passed to Jensen who also proceeds to say random stuff to the camera with the occasional screams.

The whispering then continued but this time louder.

“I said, it’s too fucking cold, I told you it was a bad idea to go here straight from the set.” You said that was slightly heard.

Pedro then replied sounding rather smugly “ I know but I also told you to bring your puffer with you cause you get cold easily, now whose fault is that.”

A loud smack was heard in the background that made Jensen look to his right before laughing and continuing whatever he was previously doing.

“I know OK! I just thought it would be warmer here 'cause it is a bar and-…” you said but was soon muffled as the music got deafeningly louder.

As the phone was passed to Jared, he calls and taps you on the shoulder first, before sharing the camera with you. In the last few seconds of the video, you were seen wearing a blue puffer jacket that looked at least 3 sizes bigger than you.

oh….we know who gave her that jacket. And aaaaaaaa y/n complaining because of the coldness is so me because as soon as the temperature drops I’d be running my mouth all the time.

Vid 3: caught by fans in a bar in downtown Manhattan 2012, November

Pt 1

The video started with you walking rather happily, you can actually call it skipping at this point. Shushes were heard in the background when you started sprinting down the path.

Stopping in front of a bar in downtown Manhattan, she brings her hands towards her mouth in an O position before shouting “ OI Pedro!!” and raises both hands up to wave.

The fans taking the video sounded shocked and muttered multiple “Oh my gosh Pedro’s here”, “Pedro oh shit he’s with her again”

In the background, Pedro was seen turning excitedly before jogging towards you and pulling you into a tight hug before placing his hand on your cheeks while telling you something that the video wasn’t able to get. 

After a brief chat out in the entrance, Pedro wraps his arm around your shoulders before leading you inside.

hold up I, when I don't see my friends for months straight, never really hug them that long and then maintain eye contact cause we'll be too distracted and excited to catch up but theyyy don't see each other for a week and they react like this, i- I don't wanna say or think of any more excuses. Ok back to it then

Before the video ended, the fans recording shouted your names while you turned around for a quick wave, then proceeded to enter the building.

It seemed like you two were catching up as this was a week after that red-carpet event you were absent from because of an illness that made you stay at home.

Pt 2

That same night a fan in the bar posted on her Facebook a pic of her male friend with y/n and Pedro. The picture was followed by the video below.

“Girl you better record all this, 'cause I wanna rewatch the moment I met one of the best pairs ever in the media industry,” her male friend told her before they were seen walking towards the table you and Pedro were sitting at. The one recording then followed her friend to have a closer look.

“-nd yeah that’s what happened, people do tend to follow you around,” Pedro’s voice was heard before he was even seen on camera.

Straightening themselves up her friend slowly walks to the table and pats you on the shoulder. Pedro gave the one recording a look before nodding towards you who was caught taking off your beanie.

With a wide smile, you looked at them with a “Hi, hello”

The male friend quickly greeted back and asked you how your day was. You responded enthusiastically. The same person was also seen waving to Pedro and he waved back with a small shy smile.

“Y/n, I know this is a little going past the line but I just wanna say that despite being sick in the past week and a half you are motherfucking glowing girl.” The male friend said with a lively tone.

With a laugh you looked towards Pedro who is seen nodding while looking you up and down. Turning back to the fan you laughed and said “Awww thank you!! Not what I expected but that is different than what I usually hear.”

The chatting then continued for another minute of chatting before the male friend asked for a picture to which you eagerly stood up and pulled them for a hug before finding a place for the picture.

A shot was already taken with the fans’ arms wrapped around you to form a hug when you suddenly separated yourself and went back to the table to pull Pedro up.

A loud “Come on Pedro!! Just this once, I don’t wanna do it by myself.” Was heard from you while Pedro was seen standing up rather slowly before pulling you by the neck and walking towards the camera.

You asked the friend to take another picture but with you three in which they nodded enthusiastically as they looked at you.

Fixing yourselves up, the first photo was with you three just smiling and standing stiff. Then the second pose was when you placed your arm over Pedro’s shoulder, who was forced to lean down by the way, and your other hand squished his left cheek. A couple more photos were taken before the fan said a quick thank before they were seen going back to their tables, however, Pedro was stopped by a female fan for a quick picture and a wave.

“Girl, I don’t know how I handled that but I am going to remember that for the rest of my life.”

a/n: hello if you get to read this thank you and sorry that this was a bit longer than usual, but I wanted to try this format so yeah here we have it. alsooo I haven't really decided on when I would post so if you guys can help me decide it would be of great help.

[realititrip]

my Red Error AU for @dpauzine :D You can also check out the full zine here

The story in this AU follows Valerie after getting suit upgrade from Technus. Of course it's more than that and things start getting out of hand pretty quickly.

First it was the little things, barely noticable, but still there like studying becoming easier or her reaction time to attacks being faster. Valerie brushed it off.

This was going on for around 2 weeks without change until Phantom approached her after a fight where they had to team up to take down a more dangerous ghost. "Um Red? Your eyes glowed red for a second there and i wanted to ask if you were okay?" he said but Val just snaped at him to better mind his own business or else he'll be the one in her thermos next time she sees him. Phantom flew away then but the worry she saw in his eyes was stuck in her brain.

Valerie spent the rest of that night staring at the mirror in her bathroom looking for the red glow but never found it. Until a few days later when she woke up with sore eyes. Went to the mirror and saw red around the edges. It's fine it's FINE don't panic you'll figure it out girl.

After some thinking she figured new suit must be the source of the problem. Since it was fused with her body Val couldn't take it off, but it wasn't causing harm to anyone so she probably overused it or something that's why the red showed up.

And oh honey, you couldn't be more wrong.

Her vision changed. Those are definitely NOT the same eyes she had last week. The iris looks more mechanical, like there's something moving and shifting in it, like a robot or cyborgs, she thought. Everything is clearer, in higher quality, she can even zoom in and out if she so desieres. When she puts the suit on there's just /more/ of everything. Around the edges of her vision Valerie can see health statistics, ghosts in the area and other important information she needs. The familiar green eyes are gone, replaced with red.

The next change was her hair. Problem was they didn't look like hair anymore. Thick and think cables, any kind, running down her back. This really started freaking her out. This is where it started becoming too much and the situation she's in started sinking in. She needed help. But who even could do anything about it? Her dad would just worry even more, Phantom isn't an option, the best tech guy in town doesn't know she's Red Huntress and she's not going to change that.

So Valerie made a plan to wait for Technus to show up and catch him before Phantom. It surprised her the ghost was actually useful and explained what he could. Of course there was the threat that she'll destroy Technus if he won't but. Details.

Apparently her "hair" could be used to connect with any sort of device. She needs camera footage to check out ghost fight details? done. Wes talking about his phone freaking out because of ghost pictures? she can get that easily. The cables act like another pair of arms and do exactly what she wants.

Technus has a theory that the reason behind all of this was because he used too much of his powers on her. Since it was more than a normal human body could handle thus the changes.

He warned that there's a possibility she'll develop something similar to a ghosts core, the thing that stores all her power, the source of it. Since she's still human, Valerie thought it wouldn't happen, but fate seems to hate her, so here we are, with a triangle on her forehead that seems to be slowly growing in size every day. Honestly, it's not so bad, pretty easy to hide. The worst part about it is that if the core got damaged she must go to Technus for help.

But other than that, she's fine, for real this time.

[brewsterispunkk]

THE TUTOR

part 2/4

pairing: eddie munson x afab!reader (period is mentioned), eddie munson x fem!reader

WC: 4.1k

summary: reader and eddie begin their little deal.

warnings: idiots. just idiots. also brief SA-- nothing explicit, just groping--NOT main pairing, recreational drug use

A/N: here is part 2! hope u love it! pls pls pls leave feedback ;) read it and weep.

Senior Year Bucket List

1) Get drunk

2) Skip Class

3) Do a drug

4) Sneak out

5) Skinny dip

6) Get a boyfriend, lose my virginity

You sighed and shook your head as soon as you’d written that last part, hands only half-shaking.

This was fine, you thought to yourself. 

It wasn’t weird, you kept telling yourself. It wasn’t. Eddie himself had asked you to come to school Monday with an itemized list of what exactly you’d felt like you’d missed out on. “A bucket list of sorts” he called it. 

You had to keep yourself from adding “feeling safe” to the list of things you’d felt you’d missed out on.

That was difficult for you sometimes. 

For the most part, you’d been able to compartmentalize what had happened to you last summer: the deaths, the torture, the “mall fire.” The rest of Hawkins knew that you’d survived it, along with Steve, Robin, and the kids. You’d gotten away with minor bruising to the face and neck after a Russian tried to choke you in an effort to get you to talk. It wasn’t ideal, but it could have been worse. Steve had been the one to take the brunt of the torture. You and Robin had screamed yourselves hoarse while they beat him in the other room. 

You sometimes still had nightmares about the sick sound of their fists hitting his face.

When you’d emerged as one of the survivors of what they were calling the “Starcourt Mall Fire,” your mother had been relieved. After your father had split when you were ten, you were all she had. Still, she hadn’t been prepared for the effects of what had happened to you. To be fair, neither were you. Neither were any of you. 

You’d always been shy, ever since you were a kid, but now instead of having a generally quiet disposition, you were skittish. The slightest noise made you jump, and you couldn’t stand to listen to Reagan talk about the U.S.S.R. on the news without having a panic attack. The nightmares had subsided after about two months, though they returned whenever you were stressed. 

You found you always looked over your shoulder, always looking out for some unknown thing that might be stalking you. When people talk about saving the world, they never talk about the ugly parts. About the broken fingernails and the insomnia and the muffling of sobs behind your hand as you break down in the girls’ bathroom. 

It’s a lonely thing, being a hero. An unfair thing. You felt like that night at Starcourt, when Hopper and Billy Hargrove hadn’t emerged from the fire, your adolescence had been stolen from you. That it had disappeared with the smoke and ash as it engulfed Scoops Ahoy and the rest of the shopping center. You hope that if Eddie actually does follow through with this little deal of yours, you’ll be able to experience at least a little of it. 

- - - -

“So,” Eddie drummed his hands on the top of your desk as he slid into the seat in front of you. “What do you have for me, miss tutor girl?”

He was awfully chipper for 7:00 in the morning. You blinked at him and skated your gaze across the room. 

It was close enough to first period for the room to be reasonably filled with students, most too sluggish to notice. But a few girls towards the front looked over their shoulders at him, eyes narrowed, before zooming in on you, where they widened curiously. 

“What, scared for your reputation?” Eddie was only half-joking, his eyes a little guarded. They narrowed at you. 

You shook your head almost comically. 

“No,” you burst. “No, not at all. Just had a weird night.”

“Hm,” he looked at you skeptically. You rolled your eyes.

“We’ve already talked about this, Eddie. I don’t have a reputation for you to ruin.”

He snorted at that.

“Alright then,” he leaned forward, his chin on his fists. “What’s got you so skittish, then? Another crazy party like Friday?”

“No,” you sighed, leaning down to retrieve your list from your backpack. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

 “Okay.” He looked like he didn’t believe you. You didn’t blame him; you couldn’t have been that convincing. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.  

“Did you bring it?” He asked. 

You nodded, slamming the sheet of notebook paper onto the desk and slid it over to him. 

“Here you go,” you pulled at your sleeve nervously. “Just don’t laugh, okay?”

Eddie looked at you and feigned shock. 

“Me? Laugh at you? I’m offended.”

“Eddie, I’m serious,” you felt your cheeks flush and your stomach plummet. “I’m just–It’s embarrassing. I’m being very… vulnerable and if you’re gonna laugh, we can just forget about it—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” his warm hands covered yours where they were sitting on the desk. He squeezed your palms reassuringly.  “I was kidding. I won’t laugh. Scout’s honor.”

You looked into his eyes for a moment to see if he was serious. All you saw was sincerity. You let out a deep breath. 

“You were a boy scout?” 

His lips spread in a wry smile as he turned to the paper. 

“Nope,” he unfolded the list. “It’s the thought that counts, though, right?”

You shrugged. 

“I guess?”

“Okay, what do we have here?” 

You sat in awkward silence as Eddie scanned the page, dark eyes focused. Hie brows were furrowed and his lips pouted in concentration. 

“‘Get drunk,’ we can certainly make that happen. ‘Skip a class,’ you won’t need to ask me twice.” He stopped for a moment and huffed a laugh. 

You felt your cheeks heat up. 

“What–”

“‘Do a drug.’” He said with a secret smile–like he knew something you didn’t. 

“Yeah,” you drew out. “I figured you’d know a guy.”

“Oh,” Eddie laughed. “I know a guy.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiled at you, before turning his eyes back to the page. “Ohh.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkled as he turned them back to you. He looked like a sprite, you thought. With his wild hair and mischievous smile. He was gorgeous. 

“‘Get a boyfriend,’” he set the list down on the table. “Am I going to be playing match-maker, teacher’s pet?”

You rolled your eyes. He was teasing you. 

“If that’s what it takes,” you quipped, your nervousness having melted away. “And I am not a teacher’s pet.”

“Whatever you say,” he raised an eyebrow at you. 

As you opened your mouth to respond, the clearing of a throat interrupted you. 

You looked up to see Cameron Reyes leering over Eddie. 

“Hey. You’re in my seat,” he sneered. “Beat it.”

Eddie sighed, before slinking out of the seat slowly, taking his time. 

“My apologies,” he smiled at Cameron, before dropping into his own seat, next to you. 

You glared at the back of Cameron’s head. 

Why did he have to be such an asshole?

Cameron was on the swim team and you’d had classes with him since Kindergarten. He hadn’t always been a dick; In fourth grade when you’d skinned your knee, he’d helped you up and walked you to the nurse’s office. It wasn’t until high school, when he’d begun running with guys like Tommy Hagan, that he’d changed. Now, you couldn’t stand him. 

That was the way of things, though, in Hawkins. There were the bullies and the bullied—rarely anything in between.

- - - -

As you walked down the halls, you felt their eyes on your legs and you regretted letting Robin convince you to wear this skirt. 

The denim felt heavy on your hips. You wiped your clammy hands on the blue material, wishing that you didn’t have to walk practically across school to get to pre-calc. 

“Looking good,” someone whistled from behind you. You felt dread seep down your spine. 

Please no, not here. 

This wasn’t the first time you’d been catcalled. 

The first time was when you and Robin were thirteen and walking to the general store down the road from your houses. A few men in a pick-up truck had rolled their windows down and told you in great detail all they’d liked to do to you. You and Robin hid inside the general store until the clerk called your mom to pick you up. You hadn’t even gotten your first period yet. 

However, this was the first time you’d been catcalled at school. It still felt just as scary as the first time. 

“Where have you been hiding those legs, teacher’s pet?” 

You whipped around at the nickname, bristling at it. You hated when people called you that, unless that person was Eddie. 

You were faced with a basketball player; one of the guys who hung out with Jason Carver and sometimes Lucas. Thomas Reed. Your skin crawled at the way he and the two boys behind him looked at you. 

“Fuck off,” you spat at him before turning on your heel and walking faster to your destination. 

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that!” He called after you, but you could barely hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. 

It only calmed when you’d reached your classroom.

- - - -

“Are you even listening to me?” You smacked his hand where it was tapping on the wood of the library table. Outside, a heavy autumn rain pummeled the sidewalk, the trees swaying with it. 

“Yes,” Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“What did I just say?”

“That…Holden is a whiny little bitch.”

You sighed, bringing a hand to your forehead. 

“No.” You ground out. “And if you write that in your essay, Ms. Taylor is going to fail you and me, so please, can you take this seriously?”

He sighed and had the nerve to look a little guilty. It made your heart clench a bit. 

In the few sessions you’d tutoring Eddie, your crush had done anything but lessened. In fact, it had grown tenfold. It was one thing to admire him from across the room, it was another completely to spend time with him and actually be able to talk to him. 

You found that in addition to being cute and pensive, he was kind and not at all the scary loner that everyone painted him to be. If he hadn’t cemented his reputation by being an avid player of D&D, he would’ve been popular, you thought. 

And all this goes to day: you couldn’t stay mad at him, even when you wanted to.

“Okay,” he said, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. You briefly reminded yourself to offer to cut them for him later—he’d been complaining about them getting in his face all session. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“What?” Your attention snapped back to him. Eddie looked at you like you’d grown another head. 

“Uhh, I asked what you were saying?”

“Oh! Oh yeah,” you shook your head. “I zoned out.”

“I gathered that.” Eddie snorted, leaning forward. “Uh, off-topic, but I was wondering, when do you wanna get started on that bucket list?”

“Oh. Whenever.”

“I was thinking we could start this week.”

“So soon?” You practically squeaked. As excited you were about these new experiences, you were nervous. Especially because the person you’d be experiencing them with was Eddie. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. 

“No time like the present,” Eddie’s voice was chipper. “So, what did you wanna start with?”

“I thought we’d start small and work up to something bigger?” You asked.

“That sounds good,” Eddie nodded. “How does skipping class work for this week?”

“Ugh, not well actually.” You sighed, sour. “We have that exam this week in Taylor’s and then for Chem I have—”

“Relax, we don’t have to start with that one. Hmm, what else…”

“We could always—”

You cut yourself off, thinking better of it, but Eddie caught you. 

“Nevermind.”

“No, what is it?”

You looked at him skeptically. 

“If you wanna do something, you gotta tell me. It’s your bucket list, tutor-girl, not mine.”

“What if we…did a drug?”

God, you sounded like such a teacher’s pet saying it.

“Okay, teacher’s pet.” Eddie’s face was gleeful, excited. “You’re full of surprises. We can do that, definitely.”

“Okay,” you let out a breath. 

“Any reason why you jumped to that one?”

“I just– I’m so stressed.” Thomas Reed’s lustful gaze flashed in your mind and you shook it off. 

“You okay?” Eddie grabbed your hand on the table. You swallowed. 

“Yeah,” you said lamely, mouth dry. “Just–a lot going on. School.”

“School,” Eddie repeated like he didn’t believe you. His eyes held yours for a moment before he nodded. “Okay teacher’s pet. Drugs it is. Any preference?”

“Nothing too crazy. Just something to take the edge off?”

“I can do that,” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just think you’ll be funny high.”

“We’ll see,” you narrowed your eyes at him. He just smiled at you for a moment. Your eyes held his and you had the sudden urge to reach over the table and kiss him. You coughed, turning back to your notes in front of you. 

“Anyway, what do you think Salinger’s trying to say?”

“Other than the fact that Holden is annoying?”

“Eddie, I’m serious—”

“I am too!” Eddie insisted. “All this shit about ‘phonies,’ when he’s just like them–”

“You know, I thought you’d relate to Holden.” You smirked at him.

“What?”

“Well, he’s an outcast—all teenage angst and—”

“I’m twenty, thank you.” He snapped at you, causing you to stutter. 

“Oh, no I didn’t mean outcast like—”

“No, it’s okay,” Eddie chuckled, waving you off. “It’s true. And I like it that way.”

You eyed him skeptically. 

“Really, I do.” He folded his arms over his chest. “There are too many assholes in this school. If I wanted to fit in, I’d have to act like them. At least a little bit. Besides, I’ve got people. Not much, but I’ve got’em.”

You hummed. 

“I’ve never thought of that.”

“What, Holden being a bitch, because—”

You smacked his arm, laughing. 

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Eddie giggled. He giggled. Your heart leapt. “What, though? What did I say that was so profound?”

He was being sarcastic, you could tell, but you didn’t care. 

“The whole—having to sacrifice part of yourself to fit in. It’s true. I’d never thought of it like that.”

He hummed, eyes holding yours a moment, before his grin broke the moment. 

“Maybe I should be the one tutoring, huh?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“Turn to page 225.”

- - - -

Thomas found you again the next day, this time before school as you were at your locker. 

“Hey there,” he smiled, sliding up next to you, effectively boxing you in between him and the locker. You jumped, moving as close to the locker as you could. “How are you today?”

“Leave me alone,” you ground out, trying to slip past him, but his hand in a hard grip on your arm stopped you. 

“Aw, but we could have so much fun, teacher’s pet.”

“Let me go—”

“Where’s your little skirt?” he asked, grip tightening on your arm as you scrambled to get away. 

You silently cursed whoever in the administration office had placed your locker on one of the most abandoned hallways in the school. 

“Your legs looked so good—”

His palm came to squeeze the meat of your ass and your stomach churned. Without thinking, you spat in his face, palm coming to connect with his cheek. 

“You cunt—”

“The hell is going on here?” 

Eddie walked briskly up to you as you stepped back from Thomas. He moved to stand between you two, face hard. It was the mask he put on every day in front of the rest of the school, the ones who thought he was mean and scary. Only now, you weren’t sure how much of it was a mask. 

“Nothing, man.” Thomas waved him off, wiping his face. He glared at you in a way that made your feet stick to the spot. 

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I said it's nothing.”

“And I said—”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled. 

“Hey wait—”

Eddie moved to grab Thomas as he walked away from the two of you. 

“I said it’s fine,” you said louder this time, and reached out to grab Eddie’s shoulder and pull him back toward you. 

“Bullshit!” He spun and turned toward you, clearly pissed off. “What the hell was that?”

“I said it was fine, Eddie!” You burst at him, voice cracking. You took a deep breath. 

“Honey, are you—” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you interrupted Eddie’s suddenly soft voice. You wiped a stray but of moisture from under your eyelid. “Let’s just go to class.”

“But–”

“Eddie, drop it,” you all but snapped, before adding lamely, “please.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Lead the way. Taylor’s gonna be pissed if I’m late again.”

You could practically hear him simmering as he walked a half-step behind you to class, but you didn’t care to acknowledge it. You’d made it abundantly clear you didn’t want to talk about it. If he pushed you, you might just snap. 

As the two of you made your way down the halls, you felt eyes following you. They were all wondering: what was the quiet nerd doing with the freak? You didn’t care to acknowledge that either. 

Let them wonder, you thought. I’m done caring about their rumor mill.

- - - -

“Jesus, Eddie.” You gasped and looked around. 

There was no one in the janitor’s closet with you, but still: with that much weed on him, Eddie would be expelled and arrested. You had no idea how he’d gotten it in the two days since your conversation. 

“What?” He asked, out of breath. He’d pulled you in here between third and fourth period, scarring you half to death in the process. “I told you I’d get the stuff.”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you meant so much,” you scoffed. Now, looking down at the green, wooly buds you were going to smoke, you felt your stomach flood with anxiety. You weren’t so sure about it anymore. “Where did you even get it?”

“I know a guy.”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” you rolled your eyes frustratedly. “What did you drag me here for, anyway?”

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, looking genuinely confused at your hostile tone. 

“To…let you know I got the stuff.” He drawled, before narrowing his eyes at you. “You okay, sweetheart? You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

Your stomach was churning. Between the stuff with Thomas that morning and now this, it was too much. 

You pressed a hand to your abdomen as the faint smell of weed permeated from the open baggie between Eddie’s fingers.

God, he had pretty fingers, you thought somewhere in the back of your mind. It was something you'd revisit when you weren’t about to have a panic attack.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie rushed toward you as you doubled over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath and calm the nausea. His hands found your shoulders, and another wave of the sharp smell of marijuana made you retreat further into your mind. 

All of a sudden, you weren’t there; you were back at Starcourt with Billy Hargrove’s hands around your neck, the smell of the weed he’d smoked earlier still on his clothes. 

Your breathing shallowed and you gasped, trying to breathe, but in vain. 

“Hey, hey, breathe for me,” you faintly heard Eddie over your own heartbeat. “You gotta breathe, honey. C’mon, breathe for me. Deep breaths, like this.”

He pressed your palm to his chest as he inhaled deeply.

You looked up at him, at his wide, panicked eyes and did as he said, slowly inhaling a shaky breath. 

“That’s it,” he took another deep breath, eyes not leaving yours. “Just like that. Okay. Another one, now.”

You took a deep breath, much easier this time, eyes never leaving his.

- - - -

“So…” Eddie began, eyes finally meeting yours. “You wanna tell me what the hell that was?”

You sighed, tilting your head back to lean against the wall where you were sitting. You looked up at the fluorescents in the janitor’s closet. 

“That was a panic attack, Eddie,” you said monotonously.

“Don’t be a smart ass. What happened?”

You sighed again. 

It had taken five minutes for Eddie to talk you down from your… episode. After, he’d let you catch your breath. You’d thought that you’d be able to just go about your day from there. You were stupid to think he’d let this go. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, I don't care about that. I just wanna know what the hell caused it. Did I–”

“No,” you said immediately. “You didn’t—”

“Did it have something to do with this morning?” Eddie’s voice was low, and as serious as you’d ever heard it. 

You remained quiet, eyes trained on the light above you. Eddie took that as confirmation. His eyes flashed dangerously as you finally looked at him. 

“I’ll kill him.”

Eddie moved to his feet with purpose, moving to open the closet door. 

“No!” you grabbed his ankle, scrambling. “No, Eddie. It’s not worth it.”

“Bullshit, it’s not worth it—”

“Please, let’s just get out of here. Let’s go smoke. We’ve practically missed all of fourth period anyway.”

“Honey, he can’t just–”

“I know, Eddie,” you stood up level with him. “But right now, I really wanna leave, and that’s more important than whatever revenge plot you have.”

He looked at the door obstinately for another moment before turning back to you. 

“Fine.” he said, not fully convinced. 

“Thank you,” you took a calming breath. “Good. Besides, it’ll be like killing two birds with one stone, right? Two items off the bucket list at once.”

- - - -

Eddie’s car was smoky; a hotbox is what he called it. 

As you took a long drag of the joint he passed to you, the deep, leafy aroma filled your lungs. As you breathed out, all worries or stress you had about school or Thomas or even the Upside Down diminished to an afterthought. 

So this is why people smoke, you thought to yourself, giggling a little bit. 

“What is it?” Eddie turned his head to you, unruly curls brushing your cheek. 

The two of you were sprawled out on the floor of his van, shoulder to shoulder and head to head, about twenty minutes into the session. You’d learned this so far: that Eddie smelled good, like cigarettes and cologne and something musky, and that his eyes got even more glassy when he smoked. All that to say: you wanted to kiss him. Bad. 

You passed him the joint, your fingers brushing his in the process.

“It’s just that I finally get why people do this so much,” you laughed. 

“It’s been twenty minutes,” Eddie laughed with you. 

“And I feel better already!”

Eddie went quiet, taking two puffs from the joint. You turned to look at him, eyes immediately darting to his lips. He was looking pensively at the corner of the van. 

“Not fair,” you grabbed the joint from him. “Don’t hog.”

“I get them too, you know.” He said all of a sudden, somber. 

You stopped, looking at him still. Eddie turned his head to face you, nose only an inch from yours. 

“Not so much anymore, but when I was younger. When I first came to live with Wayne.”

“Wayne?”

“My uncle,” he swallowed, turning his head away from yours. “I live with him. Have since I was twelve. My dad, he was… not a great guy.”

You were quiet for a moment, passing the joint back to him. 

“My dad left.” You said. “Sometimes I’m not even sure I remember what he looks like.”

Eddie grabbed your hand, squeezing. 

Instead of the flutter of anxious butterflies, you felt a calm wash over you at his hand in yours. 

“Do you, uh…” Eddie trailed off, taking a deep huff, “wanna talk about what I saw this morning?”

You sighed, not feeling anxious, but feeling tired. 

“You remember the skirt I wore the other day?”

Eddie swallowed visibly, eyes darting to your legs before your face again. 

“Yeah.”

“Robin helped me pick it out in June,” you fiddled with your sweater. “She convinced me to wear it the other day, finally, while the weather is still at least a little nice. Anyway, Thomas noticed my skirt. He hasn’t left me alone since. And today, he…”

Eddie took a long drag. 

“He grabbed me, grabbed my ass. Fucking pig.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not even, like, scarred by that. You know how ridiculous that is? That I’m not even phased by it anymore?”

Eddie just shook his head, glaring at the ceiling. 

“Eddie?”

He wordlessly handed you the joint. 

“Toke up, sweetheart.”

You chuckled. 

“Jesus, what an asshole.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a long drag. 

“Someone should—”

“Someone should, but someone won’t.” You looked at him. “They never do.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hummed, biting his lip in concentration. 

“Wanna skip the rest of the day?”

“God, yes.”

Th next day, Thomas Reed had a busted lip and a black eye.