#you meet some woman on the internet and take her home

[pinkorchidsinspring]

I haven’t seen anyone post the reaction to this line, and I’d like to say that Detroit N2 had the best reaction ever-

“You meet some woman on the internet and take her home”

Personally just based on the way everyone was SCREAMING during Girl in Red’s performance, there was many gays (like myself) in the audience. This was by far the most welcoming concert I’ve ever been to.

Really missing my show right now 🥹

[oh-my-damn]

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I saw a picture the other day where someone made their nativity scene the folklore cabin and now I can’t picture anything else with ours 😭

[kissandships]

The problem with watching Eras Tour videos is that I want to sing all the key changes while listening to the original versions

[newfoundjasongrace]

everyone is mourning tolerate it but im mourning the 1 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[o-flairegan]

Give Me Something to Die For

Pairing- Sam Carpenter x female reader

Word Count- 6.5k

Summary-You meet Sam after she has a drink thrown in her face and you offer her your jacket. The interaction leads to more than you would ever expect

Warnings- NSFW, fingering, vaginal sex, strap on sex, temperature play, knife play, minor overstimulation, mirror sex

Sam's also a bit ooc, sorry

Taunts are flung and then a drink goes flying and you watch absolutely horrified before stepping in between the group of three girls and the woman they are taunting.

“Don’t you have something better to be doing with your time,” you voice harshly, your eyes as cold as the wind whipping around us.

The girls lower their phones as you continue to hold their gaze and be a shield between the two parties. The tension eases from your shoulders as they finally move off, and with a sigh of relief you turn and look at the soaked woman.

“Hey are you okay,” you ask softly, trying not to spook the other woman.

She looks up and you, sighs softly, and nods. “I’m fine, just a bit shaken. It’s not every day someone throws a drink in my face and calls me a murderer,” she mutters softly, her jaw clenched in frustration. “It’s just stupid rumors that won’t die.”

You nod, not exactly sure what to make of the other woman’s statement. You pull off your jacket and hand it to the woman as you notice her shiver in the night air.  You are thankful that for once you are wearing layers.

She takes the offered jacket with a grateful nod, slipping it on with a murmured “Thanks”. “I swear, some people just won’t leave me alone after they read Gale Weathers most recent book,” she says, rolling her eyes, frustration painted clearly on her face.

“I’m sorry. People are assholes, clearly.”

She shrugs. “It’s not your fault. I just wish people would use their brains before believing everything they read on the internet.” She pauses, looking at you curiously. “You at least don’t seem to think I’m a murderer.” She gives you a half smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

“I don’t know you so I just see someone having a shitty night.” You look her over, “Keep the jacket, it looks good on you.”

She grins at you, “Well if you insist.” She adjusts the jacket, and zips it up, making herself more comfortable. “You are really sweet you know that? Not many people would stick up for me like that.”

You shove your hands in your jean pockets, “Yeah well, everyone deserves to have someone care about them. Even if it is a random stranger.”

The woman’s expression softened and she meets your gaze warmly, “You are right…. And I’m glad that you were that someone for me tonight.” She takes a step closer, leaning into you slightly, “Would you like to come back to my place for a bit? I could use some company.”

You smile softly, “You know what fuck it, sure.”

She smiles back, and gestures back the way you came from, “It’s just down the way and to the left. So do you actually have a name, or should I just call you “kind stranger”?” She teases softly, gently nudging your shoulder as you walk together.

You offer your name and you can see the flicker of something in her dark brown eyes.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Sam, Sam Carpenter.” She says as if expecting a reaction to the name, her eyes flickering across your body as you walk alongside her. She smiles widely as the two of you approach her building, pulling you with her. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had shown her such care without some ulterior motives.

The two of you walk up several flights of stairs and Sam’s hand in yours feels like a promise but you don’t know of what.

Sam unlocks the front door gesturing for you to come in. “Make yourself at home, I’m going to go and change out of this, I don’t want to smell like cherry coke for the rest of the night.” She disappears down the hall and you watch her go.

You decide to sit on the couch and look around the space, it is cozy and doesn’t feel cluttered in the way that some New York apartments can be. It is also bigger than most.

Sam returns to find you sitting on the couch looking at ease with your knees tucked up under you, your shoes having been kicked off.  “So can I get you anything? A drink, some snacks? I think we have some chips and some popcorn.”

You can’t help but smile at how flustered Sam seems, this is a far cry from the woman whose eyes had blazed with fury when facing down those women.

“Water would be lovely,” you answer, wanting at least something to hold in your hands and something to drink.

“Sure, one water coming right up,” Sam replies heading to the kitchen. As she stood at the sink filing the glass you catch Sam looking at you but pretend not to notice.

“Hey, how are you feeling,” you ask wanting to break the silence but also genuinely wanting to know.

“I’m better thanks to you, “Sam says returning to the living room with two glasses of water. She passes one to you before settling on the couch next to you. “You and your jacket were a lifesaver- both literally and metaphorically.” She says with a playful grin.

“Glad I could be of service,” you say with a wink.  You take a sip of water to ease your nerves with your blatant flirting.

Sam smirks, “You are funny, and I like that.” She leans back into the couch, tucking her feet under her as well. She glances up at you, watching for a beat. “You know, I haven’t really had the chance to do this in a long time.”

You look at her puzzled, the woman is gorgeous, how has she not had heaps of attention thrown her way. “A chance to do what,” you ask questioningly.

Sam pauses and seems to consider her next words carefully, “A chance to relax around someone who isn’t my sister, or my immediate friend group. It’s the first time I feel like I can let my guard down, in a very long time and that is rare for me. I’m usually the overprotective paranoid one.”

You take another sip of water and can’t help but wonder just what this woman has gone through to feel this way. “You deserve to be able to relax Sam. I know I’m a literal stranger but I’m glad that I can give you a bit of that.”

Sam’s eyes welled with unshed tears, “Why are you being so nice to me?” She looks at you, her gaze searching and vulnerable. “I’m not a good person, I’ve don’t things to protect myself but there is darkness inside me,” she whispers as a tear finally rolls down her cheek.

You set the water on the table and move closer so you can hold one of her hands. “Hey, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that. I may not know you but everyone has a bit of darkness inside of them. It is how we handle it that defines us.”

You watch as Sam’s eyes flick behind you, before settling back on you.

Sam however sees something entirely different, the visage of her dead father, Billy Loomis. She wants to believe your words, but seeing him just confirms her feelings.

“You seem really sweet Sam, I don’t know what ghosts are haunting you but I hope you know you are more than that,” you say giving her hand a squeeze.

Sam lets out a watery chuckle, wiping away the tears. “Sweet? Oh no, I’ve been called many things but ‘sweet’ is not usually one of them.” Sam squeezes your hand back, running a thumb across your knuckles. “But thank you, I appreciate it.”

You reach out to cup her cheek, but freeze halfway, unsure if the contact would be welcome.

Seeing you hesitate, Sam reaches out and grabs your hand and guides it to her face. She leans into it and an electric thrill passes between you. Her eyes close briefly and when they open again they are darker, “You can touch. I want you to, I want to feel something,” she says holding you there while her fingers are still tangled with your left hand. “Stay the night?”

You nod shakily, not expecting it but certainly not against it.

The moment is broken by a red head walking through the front door, with what I assume is her boyfriend and head through the living room to what I assume is the red heads room. “Hey Sam, sorry for the noise,” the red head says with a taunting smirk, before shutting her door.

You watch as Sam’s eyes narrow. “Thanks for the heads up Quinn,” she says with a growl. Sam stands from the couch and reaches to pull you up with her.

You follow Sam’s lead and are surprised and her strength and a bit turned on by it. As soon as you hear Quinn’s loud noise you realize why Sam is pulling you down the hall she disappeared down earlier.

Sam’s jaw is clenched and her grip on your hand tightens as the sounds of sex seem to echo in the apartment. ‘Fucking typical, “she growls under her breath. The sounds of Quinn’s moans, and the guy’s grunts filtered through the thin walls, and Sam’s eyes flash with annoyance and something else. She turns to you and cups your face, her dark eyes meeting your own.

“Hey, easy. It’s not like I haven’t had my fair share of roommates and heard them having sex. Its awkward but it is what it is,” you say softly, trying to sooth Sam as you feel her fingers flex.

“Sorry,” Sam mutters softly, leaning forward to rest her forehead against your own. “I just hate that she can bring home whatever guy of the week she wants and I can’t have what I want…” She trails off, her body tensing as Quinn lets out a particularly loud cry. Sam couldn’t help the growl that escaped her, her body pressing into yours as the two of you stand in the hallway.

“What do you want,” you rasp out softly, the noises and Sam’s proximity to you affecting you.

Sam’s breath hitched as she looked into your eyes. “I want…” she hesitates, and you can feel her trembling against you. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you so badly and then take you to my bed and drown out Quinn’s noise with our own.”

“Please,” you groan out, wanting that more than you’d care to admit. The woman was exactly your type.

With a low groan of her own Sam crushes her lips against your own, pouring all of her frustration and desire into the kiss. Her hands grip your waist, pulling your bodies as flush as they can be as her tongue darts into your mouth deepening the kiss.

You kiss back, letting your tongue tangle with hers in your mouth. Your hands move down to grip her ass as you roll your hips into her.

Sam’s hands tighten against your waist as she feels your hands on her ass. She breaks the kiss, panting and resting her forehead against your own. “Not here,” she whispers hoarsely. “My room. Now,” She says reaching behind her to fumble with the door knob.

You nod, not trusting your words.

Sam pulls you into her room and slams the door; she pushes you onto the bed, growling for you to wait there.  She grabs something you don’t quite see and steps into the bathroom attached to her room.

Your heart is pounding into your chest and between your legs and you feel like all the moisture in your mouth has evaporated as you wait for this beautiful woman who clearly wants to fuck you.

When Sam appears again she is wearing a pair of loose sweats although the same shirt. Her eyes are dark as they rake over you. She pulls you from your seat on the edge to back you up against her door. She leans in and attacks your neck with hungry little kisses and bites as her hands roam your body.

You can’t help the moan that falls from your lips as you lean into her touch and spread your legs as heat pools low.

Sam growls and slides her hand between your thighs cupping you over your jeans. She grinds the heel of her hand against you, feeling you move against her. She pulls back from your neck and lifts the edge of your shirt, “Off.”

You’ve never moved quicker, quickly pulling your shirt over your head grateful that you took your jacket off when you arrived at Sam’s place.

Sam eyes you appreciatively, taking in your newly bared skin and the black bra you are wearing. Your chest is heaving and you wonder if she can feel just how wet you are. She grinds the seam of your pants against you just right and you shudder against her. “Fuck, Sam.”

Sam leans in and captures your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing down your next moan. Her deft hands move from touching you to making quick work of the button and zipper on your pants before she pushes the pants down to your knees keeping you trapped. Dark brown eyes meet your own as she slips a finger between your folds, groaning at the wetness she finds there.

You aren’t shy about showing her what you want, grinding down on her fingers. “Inside please, fuck,” you whine, your voice dripping with want.

Swiping her fingers through your wetness she slowly pushes two inside of you, watching you take them.  She curls her fingers finding that spot inside of you that makes you shudder and push against her. Sam is panting as she slowly pumps her fingers while staring intently at you, watching your every little reaction. “Look at me, “she rasps, when your head falls back against the door.

You meet her gaze as you feel your arousal pooling between your legs and coating Sam’s hand. You meet her thrusts and can hear the door making noise as you move but you don’t care. You want this.

Sam’s pupils are dilated seeing the raw unfiltered desire on your face. She quickens her pace, her fingers moving faster, the sounds of wet fucking filling the room along with breathless pants and moans. Her breath hitches as she feels you tighten around her fingers. “Say it, “she growls, her voice low and demanding.

“Fuck me, let me cum,” you moan softly, almost unable to get the words out.

Sam’s face flushes and your words spur her onward. She adds a third finger and you feel the stretch of it, thighs trembling. She moves faster, curling her fingers while her other hand comes up to grope one of your bra clad breasts.

You are lost to the pleasure of it as you whimper, “God yes Sam, use me.” You are embarrassed with how quickly this woman is making you unravel but you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

Sam’s control seems to snap; she withdraws her hand and spins you around to face the door. She makes sure your hands are pressed flat against the surfaces as she pulls your jeans the rest of the way off, along with your underwear and your bra. They are tossed to the side.

“Keep your hands there,” she growls as you hear movement behind you. You don’t turn to look but every part of you is so focused on her.

You feel her step up behind you and feel more than just her naked body pressed along your back; you feel her sliding a length between your legs from behind and the leather straps on her hips brushing the back of your things.

Sam moves back and forth for a minute before she lines herself up and slides inside slowly. She works herself in until you’ve taken her all. She leans over her breath hot against your ear. “Don’t move,” she whispers, voice shaky with barely held restraint.

“Fuck, did you go and put on a strap just for me,” you moan softly, feeling so full.

Sam nods, gritting her teeth, fighting to keep still. She wants nothing more than to move and fuck into you hard and fast but she wants this to be good for you. She leans down and kisses your neck, before biting into the same skin marking you.

“Shut up and stay still,” she growls, her restraint just about gone. You don’t move; instead do exactly what she asks of you as you relax against her.

Sam feeling you relaxing pulls back and snaps her hips forward drawing a cry from your lips. She sets up a punishing pace, having already worked you up with her fingers. Her hips meet yours with a loud slap each time she fucks into you, the door rattling under you as you moan.

You feel your resolve to not speak crumbling and finally give in. “Fuck yes, please fuck me. God fill me up.”

Sam groans at your pleas, her thrusts growing more erratic. She buries her face in your neck, inhaling your scent. “God your look so good taking me. I’m filling your little cunt so good,” she pants out. Sam wraps her arms around you, one hand splayed across your stomach, the other moving up to cover your mouth. “Bite down if it becomes too much baby,” she rasps out, her hips jerking forward in short brutal thrusts.

Sam continues to fuck you with reckless abandon, the hand on your stomach moving down to rub your clit. The strap-on was making lewd sounds as it fucked in and out of your pussy but it just seemed to drive the other woman onward. Sam couldn’t seem to get enough; she bites down on your shoulder as she nears her own release, marking you possessively.

With all of the simultaneous stimulation you shatter around her, cumming hard and squirting. Sam lets out a feral growl and continues thrusting, not giving you space to breath. “That’s it baby, cum on my cock,” she says, her voice strained with her impending release.

“Fuck please Sam, I wanna feel you cum. Wanna hear you,” you moan brokenly as she works your body over.

Sam’s movements become erratic, her thrusts losing their rhythm. With a final deep thrust she buries herself to the hilt and cums with a sharp cry.

You can’t help but fall apart again with how sensitive you are. The two of them stay entwined like that as you both come down from your respective orgasms.

Sam waits a moment to make sure you are steady before she pulls out of you and god you feel so empty without her. You turn around and look at her like that, hair thoroughly mussed and her strap coated with your juices.

Sam can’t help but smirk, “God you are so sexy.” You blush as she slowly pulls you to her and leads you to the bathroom. Its surprisingly large with two sinks, a huge mirror and plenty of countertop space.

Sam unbuckles the strap and sets it on the counter next to the sink for cleaning. She turns to you and lifts you up to sit on the counter. Grabbing a washcloth, she gets it wet with warm water and gently cleans you off with warm water. “You were so good baby, “she whispers softly, watching as you still tremble.

Sam grins tossing the washcloth aside before stepping in between your thighs. “You’re so sensitive right now that just my touch makes you quiver doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I whisper shakily.

Sam leans in to kiss you, her fingers once again exploring your swollen folds. “Good,” she murmurs against your lips. “Because we are just getting started sweetheart,” she says before she slips two fingers back inside of you. “Want to try something?”

“What did you have in mind,” you say with a gasp as she fills you again.

Sam’s eyes glittered in the light of the bathroom as she she withdraws her fingers slowly, teasingly. “Have you ever tried temperature play? It can heighten everything.”

You shake your head, “I’ve never tried it.”

Sam steps away from you and returns holding a small glass toy along with a bottle of something else. She holds the toy up for you to see. The toy is sleek, clear and curved just a little. “This is a glass dildo. It is smooth, firm and conducts different temperatures beautifully.”

You eye the toy and the woman in front of you. With your heart thundering in your chest you nod in agreement. “Okay.”

Sam turns on the faucet to your right letting the cold water run for a minute, then runs the glass toy under it making sure it is nice and chilled. She dries it off before turning her attention back to you. “Open your legs for me baby,” she instructed, her voice firm and commanding.

You obey, your hands gripping the counter top as you are spread before her. Your heart is racing and it feels like it has traveled between your legs as you watch Sam step forward.

Sam positions herself between your thighs, the cool glass of the toy pressed gently against your heated opening. She teases it across your slit and lets the contrast in temperature send shivers through your body. “Feel that? The way the cold glass makes your hot, wet cunt quiver with need?”

You nod, biting your lip as you give into what your body is feeling.

With a gentle push Sam slowly slides the chilled glass into your pussy watching in delight as your eyes slip closed and a soft gasp escapes your lips.

“Fuck, you look so good around it. Taking it so well,” she murmurs, her fingers reaching up to rub your clit.

“Feels so good Sam,” you hoarsely whisper, your hips rolling.

Sam smiled wickedly at your praise, slowly fucking the glass toy in and out angling it to hit that spot inside of you. “Mmm, I’m glad you like it baby. Your pussy looks so good like this, taking this just for me.”

You are already shuddering, your breath coming in quick pants as you rock into her. Your hands are gripping the countertop with a white knuckled grip.

Sam pulls the glass toy out slowly, reveling in how your pussy clung to it, not wanting to let it go. She sets it to the side and grabs the bottle she brought with her. “You ready for the next part, sweetheart?”

A whimper falls from your lips as you tremble on the counter top, still spread wide for Sam.

Sam chuckles softly amused and aroused by your desperate little whimpers. She squeezed a generous amount of what you realize is warming lube on her fingers and your eyes go wide. “Impatient, are we?” She teased as she warms the slick fluid between her hands before moving to touch you. Sam rubs the lube over your clit and folds, the warm tingling sensation replacing the cool. She watches with fascination as your body reacts, skin flushing and hips rocking forward involuntarily. “Oh that feels hot, doesn’t it baby?”

You shudder against her fingers, “Fuck, god Sam, it feels so good.” You pant and try and get some control back but you are beyond that now.

Sam grins triumphantly ash she continues to rub the lube in, the sensation clearly driving you wild. ‘You like when I make you feel like this don’t you? All hot and desperate for more?”

You swallow hard. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone,” you gasp out.

Sam’s grin widened, she loved knowing what she was doing to you and knowing that she was giving you something no one else had. She gently parts your folds, just to see how wet you are for her.

“And to think all it took was giving my jacket to a stranger,” you gasp out.

Sam huffs out a small laugh as she washes her hands, she doesn’t want any of the warming lube actually in you. “Who knew such a simple act could lead to this?” She says as she steps back between your legs, sliding two fingers back inside of you and moving. “Lucky for you, I’m not just any stranger.”

“No you are just the hot stranger currently fucking my brains out,” I say with a gasp as I pull you closer, needing to touch you.

Sam chuckles at your breathless incoherent praise, her fingers fucking into you. She can feel your wet warmth around you and how you are already clenching against her. “You keep talking like that and I might stop,” she warns.

“Babe, you invited me back to your place and are currently fucking me in your bathroom while your roomie bangs her boy toy. I think we are long past stopping,” you say breathlessly, just barely able to get it out as she fucks me.

Sam’s thumb joins her fingers, rubbing your clit as she thrusts her fingers. She can’ feel your walls clenching around her fingers, the tight heat almost overwhelming. “You like that hug? You like when I fingerfuck you until you can’t even think straight?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Yes, you feel so good inside me,” you gasp out, voice trembling.

Sam’s voice lowered to a sultry growl. “Good, because I’m just getting started, baby. I’m gonna make you cum so hard again you’ll forget your name.” Her fingers moved faster, the wet sounds filling the bathroom.

“Please, fuck, god, oh god, please.”

Sam smirked as she felt your hips bucking against her had desperate for release. She curled her fingers just right, and made your vision swim. “That’s it, let go for me. Cum all over my fingers like the naughty girl that you are.”

You shudder in her hold, your head dropping forward as you cum, your thighs clamping down on her hand. One hand grips the counter top; the other holds her tighter to you.  “Fuck.”

As your orgasm crashes over you Sam continues to move her fingers drawing out the pleasure until you are a quivering mess. Only then did she slow her movements, gently removing her fingers from you. “Look at you, so pretty and spent just for me.”

Jesus, I pant heavily, trying to draw in air. I feel like an absolute boneless mess.

Sam leans in close, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, “And now I think it is time for the main even don’t you?” She pulls back and watches your reaction, slapping your thigh lightly before stepping out of the bathroom and your gaze follows her as she leaves.

She comes back with something wrapped in a towel, and sets it softly on the counter top next to you. You look at it curiously but she grabs your chin, “Focus on me baby, I need you to listen and be honest with me. How do you feel about knife play?”

The question throws you a little but honestly you’ve always thought that swords and knives are cool and have even wondered what using one during sex might me like. “When you say knife play, what exactly do you mean,” you ask hesitantly.

Sam smiles and unwraps the cloth to reveal a knife larger than you had expected. She hands it over to you, letting you hold it in your hands. You can see it has a clear cutting edge and a flat spine. Holding it in your hand sends a little thrill through you.

“It’s a Buck 120, I know it looks a little intimidating but I just want to hold the spine of the knife against your throat as I fuck you baby. Would that be okay?” Sam looks up at you with those dark eyes and you can’t help but not yes as you pass the knife back to her.

Sam sets the knife back on the counter and pulls you so you are standing before she slowly turns you to face the mirror. “I want you to watch this, babe.”

You look in the mirror and see what a ruined mess Sam has made of you.

Sam grins wickedly at your reflection, loving the dazed and thoroughly fucked expression on her face. Her eyes travel slowly down your body, lingering on the marks she had left, the bites and hickeys dotting her neck, thighs slick and coated in arousal.

You shudder as she grabs the knife and steps behind you and you tilt your head back as the cool metal grazes your throat.

Sam watches in the mirror, the way you arch your back and pull just slightly away from the knife. She nuzzles her face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

Your eyes slip closed as Sam nips at your skin, leaving yet another bite mark against your skin. How you had come to let this woman you’d only met a few hours ago use you like this is beyond you. “I don’t know how we came to be here but god, I fucking love it,” you rasp out, your eyes meeting Sam’s in the reflection.

Sam chuckles, her voice muffled against your flesh. “Let’s just say, you have an aura that screams “touch me, ruin me.” Sam nips and sucks along your neck and shoulders, marking you further.

“Do I,” you ask softly, shivering as you feel the cold metal shift.

Sam’s right hand moves down your front, palming at one of your breasts possessively. “Mmmhmm. It’s intoxicating to have such a sweet innocent thing like you.” She squeezed your breast in her hand, her thumb flicking over the hardened peak as she holds the knife firmly.

“You knew from the moment I handed you my jacket didn’t you,” I asked softly, my gaze trained on you in the mirror as you touched me.

Sam’s grin was predatory as she looked at you. “Oh, absolutely. The way you so selflessly helped me out, only for me to invite you back to my place. It was like you were silently daring me to take advantage of you.”

“Maybe I was,” I moan out softly.

Sam’s eyes flashed with dark amusement at your admission.  She leans in a little closer, her lips brushing your ear as she speaks in a low growl. “Naughty, naughty girl. Playing the sweet innocent thing while secretly begging to be ravished.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not playing anything.”

Sam’s hand slides down to grip your hip, pulling you flush against her muscular body, while still holding the knife steady. She rolls her hips grinding against your ass as she growls softly. “Then stop teasing, and give yourself to me completely. I want to ruin you for anyone else.”

“You have Sam, I’ve given you more than I have to anyone else,” you gasp breathlessly hoping she understands.

Sam’s breath hitches in her throat when she hears your words. She grinds her teeth together to keep from moaning, her grip on the knife wavering as her body tenses behind you. She had known you would be perfect but this was more than she could have ever hoped for.

“I don’t know if this is what you are missing out on, but I hope you are enjoying this,” you say softly as you meet her eyes in the mirror.

Sam’s face flushes with heat, her pupils dilating as she stares back at you in the mirror. She leans forward, resting her forehead against your shoulder, her voice barely a whisper. “You have no idea. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

I whimper and lean into the cold steel at my throat, “Fuck you can’t just say things like that.”

Sam pulls back slightly, a wicked smirk spreading across her face as she catches the hint of desperation in your voice. She knows she has you utterly hooked. “Why not? It’s the truth.” Her hand slides down to your core, teasing across your flesh.

I shiver and spread my legs slightly, seeing the desperation in my eyes reflected in the mirror. “Because I’ll never stop wanting you, “I whisper like a confession.

Sam’s grin turns smug, her touch growing bolder as her fingers part your folds to slowly sink into you once more. “Then you are mine aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I stutter out as I watch you fuck me in the mirror, the knife still pressed against my throat as I grip the countertop tightly.

Sam’s pace quickened her fingers pumping in and out of you as she watches there reflections in the mirror. Her other hand holds the knife and uses it to tilt your chin up to meet her eyes in the mirror. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I rasp out, the knife pressing into my skin, the thrill of it dizzying.

Sam’s expression tightens with desire as she hears your words. Her hips rock forward and you can feel her wetness on your backside as she pistons her fingers in and out of you. “Good girl,” she growls out lowly.

“Fuck baby, god, you make me feel so good,” you whimper brokenly as she fucks you. Your eyes are still trained on her in the mirror and she looks like a dark goddess fucking you. The snarl on her face and the knife at your throat thrilling you.

Sam’s grin widened at your plea, her eyes gleamed with lust. She thrust her fingers deeper, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside of you. “That’s the point sweetheart. To make you feel like you’ve never felt before.”

Your hips are rolling into her touch, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. “Fuck Sam, I’m gonna cum again,” I moan out loudly.

Sam’s breathing grows heavier, her own excitement building as she feels your walls start to flutter. She tightened her hold on the knife and pressed it harder to your throat and growls in your ear, “Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers like the good little slut that you are.”

The words, the knife and her fingers all work together to send you over the edge. You shudder, your thighs trembling as they clench down on her hand. You lose your grip on the counter top and the knife clatters down as Sam holds you up.

Sam’s arm snakes around your waist pulling you back against her chest firmly as he fucks you slowly through it. She nuzzles into your neck as her fingers gently move, drawing out every drop of pleasure. “Mmm..”

You shiver in her hold and open your eyes to take one more look at the two of you in the mirror. You look absolutely fucked, bruises and bite marks litter your neck and you are flushed. Sam’s strong arm is wrapped around your waist as she gazes lovingly at you, your hand still lightly gripping the sink as she holds you.

“You’ve ruined me Sam. I can’t take anymore,” you mutter softly. Your body feels boneless and you don’t even know how you are still standing.

Sam chuckles and nuzzles into your neck once more. “Oh baby, we are just getting started.” She slowly sliders her fingers from between your legs, tracing up your stomach to spread your release across your skin. “Look at you, such a mess.”

“Sam, please, no more.” You mumble. “Still too sensitive.”

Sam hums soothingly her touch gentling as she traces across your quivering stomach. She nips playfully at the tender skin of your neck her voice laced with mischief. “Shh, baby…”

You drop your head and cling to her as your legs finally feel stable enough to hold you. “I can’t take anymore.”

Sam’s arm tightens around your waist, holding you securely in place as she presses a soft kiss to the side for your neck. Her free hand comes up to grasp your chin, tilting your head to the side. “Can’t take anymore what, baby? The pleasure?”

Yes I gasp raggedly, turning in Sam’s hold to face her.

Sam’s breath hitches as she looks at you, feeling you trembling still. She could feel the spasms of her own release and it just made the whole thing more delicious. She grins wickedly, leaning in so her breath ghosts across your skin. “Good.”

“Can we take a break please,” I ask quietly, feeling badly about needing a break from it all.

Sam’s expression softens and she lets her grip around you loosen a little bit, allowing you to properly catch your breath. She peppers your cheek and jawline with soft kisses. “Alright, baby. We can take a break.” Her voice was low and soothing, a stark contrast to her earlier intensity.

You capture her lips in a soft kiss before she breaks it and pulls you from the bathroom and back into her bedroom. This time you take a moment to look around the space. It is dimly lit and furnished with dark wood and deep blue gray colors. Her king size bed, covered in charcoal sheets dominates the room.

Sam pulls back the comforter and sheets and gently eases you down onto the plush mattress. She makes sure you are settled before she moves to the other side of the bed and crawls in beside you. “Rest for a bit, sweetheart. You’ve earned it.”

You curl up with Sam in her bed and feel the most at peace with this woman and everything that has happened than you have anything in a very long time.

Sam’s arm wraps around you, pulling you closer, as she nuzzles into your hair. Her hands idly trace up and down your side, her touch gentle and soothing. She inhales deeply, drawing in your scent- a mix of your perfume and the smell of sex on the both of you.

“And who would have thought that this would all come from sharing my jacket,” I say with a contented sigh.

Sam huffs out a small laugh, “Mmm… I certainly didn’t think I’d be curled up naked with you in my bed after keeping your jacket.” Her fingers pause in their gentle stroking, squeezing you possessively.

“I’m kinda glad that idiot threw their drink on you,” you whisper, placing a kiss to the hollow of her throat.

Sam grinned and pressed her face against your hair. “ Me too, baby. Me too. Otherwise I might never have met you or gotten my hands on you like this.” She flexed her hand, fingers splaying across your hip, the warmth seeping into your skin.

“Probably not,” I mumble softly already drifting off to sleep in your arms.

Sam’s lips curve into a gentle smile as your breathing began to even out, the fight to remain conscious slowly slipping away. She adjusted your position ever so slightly, ensuring you are comfortably held in her embrace. “Sleep well Sweetheart.” She murmurs softly, her words barely audible in the quiet of the room. She places a soft kiss to your forehead and closes her eyes and drifts off.

[monster-disaster]

[shadow monster] Monster at midnight

male!shadow monster x male!human!Reader Good to know: well, cheating and dubious/non-consensual, but not in a traumatizing way, I guess? mxm, oral

Summary: The new bed your wife got came with something else.

It all begins with your wife's newfound obsession with antique stores and online markets. What starts as a casual interest for her soon turns into a frequent activity for you, with mornings and afternoons spent in parking lots, waiting for strangers and whatever she bought from them through the internet. These transactions are mostly pleasant surprises—garden tools, books, and seasonal decorations that would cost much more in stores. They are harmless things, and you have no issue picking them up just to make your wife happy.

The situation takes a strange turn when she gets another bed. At first, there is nothing wrong with it. It is much bigger than your previous one, giving her and you enough space at night to sleep without kicking each other every few hours. It looks good, and it's comfortable.

So it's fine, right?

However, after a month, things start to feel off. You begin waking up at odd hours with an unsettling feeling of being watched or touched. Sometimes, you wake up drenched in sweat, feeling inexplicably hot and agitated. On other nights, you find yourself waking up aroused, ready to climax at any moment. This last detail you keep to yourself, driven by a strange instinct to remain silent about it.

When you finally bring up your concerns to your wife, she just laughs it off. "I don't know what you are talking about," she says. "I sleep like a baby." You hum in response, uncertain whether it is a good sign or something you should worry about. "Maybe you're overworked," she continues. "You're always so tired when you get back from work." You are tired because you can't sleep at night, but you keep this answer to yourself, partly because your wife's explanation sounds much more rational than the unsettling fantasies that have been plaguing you. Her suggestion that you're simply overworked and exhausted from your job is a comforting alternative to the bizarre thoughts swirling in your mind.

Yet, even with her reassurances, the nights don't get any easier. The feeling of being watched, the burning heat, and the unbidden arousal continue to haunt you. You toss and turn, trying to rationalize these experiences, but they persist stubbornly.

In the quiet, dark hours of the night, your thoughts wander, and you can't shake the growing sense of unease. There's an underlying tension, a feeling that something is not quite right. Despite the logical explanations you try to offer yourself, a part of you wonders if there's more to this new bed than meets the eye. The once-pleasant surprises from your wife's shopping sprees have now taken a turn, leaving you questioning what you've welcomed into your home.

- With an exhale through your chapped lips, you let your head fall back on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Your body melts against the mattress as your muscles relax and your eyes close, ready to fall asleep again despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

It's nothing, you tell yourself. Your wife is right; it must be stress from work. Maybe you should take some time off. A few days of vacation would do some good for both you and the still-sleeping woman next to you. Go somewhere warm and sunny. No matter how much you love living in Grimbrook, the gloomy town can play tricks on one's mind if they're not careful.

Something nudges your leg, and you scowl into the darkness. Your wife's name rolls off your tongue in a low, barely audible grunt as you pull away from her, but the sensation remains around your calf. The hold reminds you of long, slender fingers with sharp nails grazing your skin. It's warm and heavy, and you have to shake your head to dispel your ridiculous thoughts.

A shiver runs down your spine, and you tell yourself it's just your imagination, fueled by exhaustion and stress. Yet, the feeling lingers, making your heart race. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but despite your efforts to rationalize, the sense of unease is undeniable. You glance at your wife sleeping peacefully beside you, and suddenly, a thought crosses your mind; what if your wife is right? And wrong? What if there is really nothing wrong with the bed, but stress has nothing to do with your problems? What if you are going insane?

What if…

But no. There is a hand on your calf, moving up and up until long nails graze the back of your thigh. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you jump as you struggle for what feels like an eternity to turn around and yank the blanket off your body in one frantic motion. The springs creak as your back hits the bed, but the sound is drowned by your pulse pounding in your ears.

And you need several, several seconds to believe your own eyes.

The darkness is thick and almost tangible in the bedroom. A strange, eerie fog rolls across the floor, curling around the furniture and casting shapes and shadows on the walls. They stretch and twist in ways they shouldn't do, and at the end of the bed, a creature kneels, barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness. The monster is lean with a hunched posture. You can see the long, slender fingers tipped with sharp nails, the same ones that grazed your thigh moments ago. Multiple eyes glimmer faintly at you, reflecting what little light there is coming from the window. The monster's skin is so dark that it nearly blends into the blackness, a seamless extension of the night itself.

As your heart races and your breath comes in shallow gasps, you struggle to make sense of the sight. The monster's eyes, too many, seem to pierce through you, seeing into the deepest corners of your soul. You feel paralyzed, unable to move or look away. The weight of its gaze is heavy and oppressive on you.

For a moment, the world narrows to just you and the monster. The bedroom, the house, your sleeping wife next to you, and everything else fades into insignificance. It's as if time itself has stopped, trapping you in this moment. With him.

He is the one who breaks the stillness of the room, placing his large hands on your thighs just above your knees. His grip is strong, and his touch is cold yet surprisingly soothing. Your muscles twitch at the sudden feeling, and you brace yourself on your elbows, wanting to sit up but halting your attempt as you speak hurriedly. "Hey! Hey! Hey!" Your voice is still hoarse from sleep but filled with alertness and panic as you stare at the monster with wide eyes. He looks back at you with a calmness you certainly don't have. The creature’s multiple eyes glint in the dim light, each one reflecting an eerie curiosity. "Who… What are you?" you manage to stammer out. The monster tilts his head when he hears your question, the movement is seemingly innocent and almost graceful as his fingers flex around your legs, sending shivers up your spine.

The silence stretches, heavy and tense, until finally, you hear a sound that seems to resonate in the air and within your very bones.

It's… purring.

It's deep and reverberating. You can’t tear your gaze away from him, a strange mix of fear and fascination holding you captive. The purring grows louder, filling the room with a sound that is both comforting and lulling. The rhythmic vibration somehow keeps you grounded, preventing you from losing your mind entirely.

The fog that had enveloped the room now swirls lazily around the bed, as if it too is under the monster's spell.

But you don't get an answer.

Instead, his grip on you slips up and up and up, and before you can say anything, his hands are under the thin fabric of your loose underwear. Your lips fall open as your breath catches in your throat with a strange, strangled sound that bounces out of your heaving chest. Your first instinct says to grab him, but your body freezes before you can do something stupid. His long, sharp nails graze over your inner thighs, too close to your balls, and there is no way you are ready to risk it with a reckless move. Now, you have to be smart, but damn, your brain stopped functioning several seconds ago.

"Wait! Wait!" You gasp. "You shouldn't… It's not…" No matter how you try, the words don't want to roll off your tongue as you hobble for some coherent thoughts. The tips of his nails wake goosebumps on their way, making your tense muscles tremble at the feeling. While one part of your mind is frozen by panic, the other is intrigued. Despite his looks, the monster doesn't seem dangerous with his big eyes that stare at you with as much curiosity as you watch him.

When you don't say anything else, he moves again, punching a startled groan out of your chest. His long, slender fingers curl around your dick, holding it steadily and firmly. "No!" You wheeze, trying to pull away, but the movement makes him tug on your shaft, and you swear you can see stars for a moment. Your cock twitches, and you can feel your arousal building up in the base of your spine despite the absurdity of the situation.

The creature purrs again. The sound is short and excited as he lets you go only to tug on your underwear before you can catch your breath. Your cock juts out, half hard, while the waistband of your boxer stretches around your thighs and slips down off your legs as you struggle to reach it. The monster does nothing to help you, mostly because his attention is entirely elsewhere. "Look," you inhale. "We shouldn't…" Now that your cock is bobbing under his heavy, intense gaze, there is no way a flimsy fabric you use for sleep can be more interesting for him.

He shuffles forward a little, the bed dips under his weight as he finds his new place between your legs, forcing you to spread them open for him. Your lips open again to say something, but he takes hold of your cock, and again, your mind goes blank. The black monster with several eyes and no words tugs on your cock experimentally, stroking you into full erection as he explores your shaft from base to tip. Your hips buck upward automatically, and you groan at yourself. You shouldn't do this. You shouldn't enjoy this. And yet, when his thumb finds a vein at the underside of your cock, you can't stop the tingling feeling running through your body. His large palm feels warm and velvety as it rubs up and down on your erection. His fingertip ghosts over the edge of the crown of your cock, teasing the sensitive skin under it to the point you can't even breathe to say something. Your lungs burn for air, and your voice is barely audible when a wheeze escapes your lips. One glance at the monster hovering over your cock is enough to know his next step. And while your body aches for it, your mind still trying to hold onto the reality. "Don't!" Without even acting like he hears you, he leans in and licks a tentative path along your shaft, lingering at the tip and teasing the small hole there. His tongue is thick and long, you can feel every movement of the wet muscle on your throbbing cock. Your chest expands with a ragged inhale as you stare at him taking you into his mouth. He is warm and wet, and his long, long tongue wraps around you easily. "Fuck!" Your voice is loud and hoarse in the silence, mixing with the wet, suckling sound of the dark creature around your cock. Adjusting his grip at the base, he takes you deeper until you can feel his throat tightening and working around you.

The sight of the monster's fingers and long, sharp nails so close to your most sensitive area surges adrenaline through your veins while his lips rubbing up and down on your hard shaft softens the sharpness of your survival instincts.

The monster backs away, jerking you off with his hand much more easily now that your cock is soaked by the mix of your pre-cum and his saliva. His fist rubs up and down on you for long seconds while your hips rise and fall as you fuck into his hold, chasing your pleasure. Every rational thought is out of your mind, and you don't even fight for it anymore. Not when he dips his head back, letting his tongue circle on the tip of your cock, sliding lower and lower until you are in his mouth again.

The slurping sounds of his lips are loud as he drools down to your balls, using his free hand to play with them softly, carefully. Your groan is almost painful as your back arches away from the bed from the electric jolt that shoots through your body, making your muscles flex and spasm.

Your oxygen-deprived brain can't even fathom anything outside the thick, curling fog around you and the monster between your legs. Your toes and fingers go numb as they curl, and you grab onto the sheets under you. You tug on the fabric with every wave of pleasure washing over you, making your muscles twitch and turning your bones into liquid. Your shirt sticks to your body like a second skin from the thin layer of sweat covering you. You are all lost and ruined under the sensations. His drool dripping down to your balls is tickling and messy and so fucking good. And his tongue is long and wet, wrapping and massaging your erection all the way from the tip to the base.

It goes like this for a while, you wheeze and writhe while he sucks you deep down to his throat, and when you think you can't go higher, the creature starts to purr. The vibration tightening and fluttering around your cock makes you shout with a release. Before you know it, you spurt your cum into his mouth. He swallows down your load easily, and every gulp sends sparkles over your spine until it almost cracks under the pressure of your orgasm.

By the time your body goes limp, you are dead to the world. Your eyes fall shut when the darkness takes you so you don't see the monster retreating to his hiding place while the thick, rolling mist slowly disappears, leaving you and your wife on the bed as if nothing happened.

The next day, when your wife joins you in the kitchen while the scent of coffee lingers in the early morning air and you are more relaxed than ever before, you say nothing about your midnight visitor. When she asks how did you sleep, you reply with a smile behind the brim of your cup.

[dazzlinhaze]

you meet some woman on the internet and take her home...

[lbcreations-blog]

Emily x an immortal reader soulmate au

Not proofread, I'm way too tired, and this took forever to make with my writersblock

Also, should I do more Emily x reader? And possibly do some Sera x readers as well? Or?

Masterlist

-------------

In this universe, everyone had a soulmate, sometimes more than one. And to know who your soulmate is, you would need the same tattoo that was placed on your shoulder.

You, a simple human who was cursed with immortality, had not found the one you love.

Then again, you have only been on earth for about 24 years. The only reason you knew you were immortal was because you fell off a skyscraper and lived with only a few scratches.

But to say the least, you were worried your soulmate or soulmates would be simply mortaliezed.

Now we turn to Emily, a seraphim who was given a mission to come to earth to collect your human soul, to come to heaven, and reside there due to you being registered as dead and being on heavens list.

Emily went into the portal that was shown to her after being instructed on her mission. Once entering the human world, she put on her human form to go find your soul, which she assumed was just floating around.

Now back to you, who was at an internet café studying for your college test that was coming soon. After a while, your eyes started to get sore, so you decided to look away from your computer for a few seconds to give your eyes a break. And when doing so, you saw a woman walk through the café door, and you knew she just looked stunning and you had to introduce yourself.

And lucky you, she was walking just your way!

But before you could say anything, she spoke to you. "Hi, my name is Emily, but you can call me Em or Eme. uhm, your name is reader? Yes?

What. The. Fuck? How does she know your name?

"Yea, hi. Emily. H-how. How do you know my name?" You asked her, a bit creaped out. "May I sit here?" She asked, ignoring your question. You agreed, wanting to figure out how she knew your name, even though you were pretty freaked out.

"Sooooooo," you started. "How do you know my name?" She then responded,"Will it explain myself if I told you I knew you were dead? or well immortal from what i can see." She asked.

"What?" You whispered,"I sai-" "no, how do you know this?" You asked, interrupting her. "Well i-" "Wait, no. Let me pay for my stuff and we can talk about this at my place." You told her, putting your hand up so you could tell the waiter that you were ready to pay.

Once paying, you left the café with Emily and took a two minute walk to your home. while walking home, Emily talked your ear off about things she likes. Yes, it was annoying, but you enjoyed it in some way, You weren't sure why, but you tried not to question it.

Once you got into your home, Emily immediately complemented it. You thanked her and told her to follow you to your lounge. Once in your lounge, you both sat down on your couch, and you asked your first question.

"How do you know im immortal?" You asked. "Well, you see, I'm a Seraphim from heaven," your jaw dropped. Emily continued, "And well, I got a mission to come down here and bring you to heaven because you were registered as dead, and you are on our list," Emily told you simply.

"I-" you started. "Give me a few seconds to process this Em," you told her as you got up and went to your room to think.

-------------

You walked back into the lounge and sat down on the couch. "So... you were told to take me to heaven because you were told I'm registered as dead?" You asked."Yes, I was told to do that" Emily told you.

"Can I not go? I like it here on earth, and i still wanna meet my soul mate." You told Emily. "No, I don't think so... but I can see if I can convince Sera, " Emily told you. "Yea sure, thank you Em"

--------

It was the next day. You were jalaxing on your bed, scrolling through tiktok when a bright light went into your room. You closed your eyes until you felt the bright light go away.

Then you saw Emily in angel form looking beautiful. "Oh hey there, Emily, so what did Sera say?" You asked her "well reader i-i tried to convince Sera, but. She said no. She said it was- "what? B-but Emily, I like it here!" You started tearing up, being passionate for where you live.

"What about my soulmate?! I'm just never going to meet them?! I want to at least let them know I love them!" You told her passionately "well they might end up going to heaven- "no! No, that's a might! I just want to meet them once! Atleast!" You told her tears falling down your cheeks alot of emotions spilled.

"Ugh, get out of my room Em" you told her, hugging your torso. "I- ok then." Emily then walks out of the room.

-------

Emily sat on your couch, feeling sad that she could not convince Sera to let you stay on earth and upsetting you. She felt that you should be happy.

After a few more minutes of Emily sitting on your couch and thinking, you walked into the lounge without the hoody that you always wore, or at least around Emily (Which makes sense since you've only known each other less then a day if you put all the hours together) you were now wearing your black tank top due to it being hot.

You then sat down on the couch and looked at the floor. "So... I'm sorry for shouting at ya Emily, " you told her."I was angry and just really emotional, you did not deserve that, I hope you can forgive me, I know you were just doing your job, im sorry." You said you continued to look at the floor anticipating for her answer.

After about 30 seconds, you looked at Emily and saw her jaw was dropped. "Em?.. Emily?" Emily slowly brought her hand to her sleeve and brought it up to reveal her soulmate mark.

You were. Shocked, to say the least.

"Your. My soulmate, " you said in shock

Your body suddenly moved on its on and you passionately kissed her. Emily kissed back. "I guess I would not mind going to heaven with you, Eme," you told her.

Well uhhmmmm

Hope yall enjoyed it

-L.B Creations

[brinconvenient]

This is a long tale, but I appreciate you taking the time to meet my friend Chris and help her out if you can.

TL;DR: my friend, an elderly queer woman I met when she was homeless just lost everything she owns in a fire at her first permanent home she had after becoming unhoused. Luckily, she and her cat were not home at the time. Please help if you can by donating or boosting.

This is a queer elder who needs our help. I'm hoping tumblr can come through for her

https://www.gofundme.com/f/fire-took-chris-baileys-home-they-need-help

Here's the long tale:

A friend of mine just lost everything except herself, her cat and the clothes on her back to a fire at her apartment (her first after being homeless for years) on Friday. We learned yesterday that nothing from her apartment is recoverable. Please help!

(Long post with cute cat pictures behind the readmore)

I met Chris one Sunday afternoon after driving past her three times as she sat on a bench outside our local library after closing. I stopped to ask if she needed a ride, and found out that she was homeless, staying in motels when her SSI came in and on the street when it ran out.

As the years have passed, I've learned a lot about her. Despite her parents kicking her out at 17 when she was outed to them as gay, she went back to school and became a social worker, working in several Chicago hospitals through the 80s and 90s, and, like a lot of queer women in the caring fields at that time, tended to and provided comfort and care for (among others) so many gay men, young and old, living with and dying from AIDS, from the earliest days of the disease through the availability of the triple cocktail and to the brighter days of hope.

Through it all, she had relationships with women in a time where that was something that wasn't always safe to do. Some were good, some bad, and some resulting in her losing nearly everything, but she struggled through. She quit social work in 99 or 2000 when her mom got sick and passed away, and then stayed out of the workforce to care for her dad until he passed in 2006. Those experiences impacted her deeply, and she became permanently disabled during that period, leaving her living on SSI, and struggling with her own mental health. She eventually lost her condo, and bounced in and out of apartments and motels.

When I met her in Sept 2019, I helped her get back into the motel she'd been staying at and bridging her to her next check and then making sure that she could stay there, and reliably get her maintenance meds and start rebuilding her life and credit.

This is her and everything she owned as we left her hotel room for the final time on Valentine's Day 2022.

The cat there is Bailey, her constant companion since they adopted each other in September 2021. They've both been through a lot and are absolutely the picture of "Who rescued whom?"

We started having biweekly dinners and I worked with her creditors and tried to get her credit score back into a good place, and helped her get banked and fixed up with access to the Internet and just help her feel more solid and stable in her life.

Just over 2 years later, in February 2022, we were finally able to get her into a senior independent living apartment, her first permanent home since about 2017. She had no furniture, but with some secondhand pickups and occasional pickups, we got her something resembling a home.

It wasn't perfect, and she had her grumbles, certainly, but it was her home. It was a place that she could launch from to recover and consider moving some place even better, if she chose.

However, Friday, July 14, Bailey had an afternoon vet appointment. Everything was fine when we left, but when we got home, with Bailey in a carrier in the backseat, we were shocked to see what looked like a million emergency vehicles & a whole lot of seniors sitting on the grass.

Chris and Bailey came with me to take my daughter into the city that evening, giving the situation 2 hours to develop and for us to get more information. We heard a few newsradio updates and saw this story on abc7, getting the sinking feeling that that balcony looked too familiar.

When we got back from the city, we were able to drive around the back of the building and confirm that this was her apartment.

We were able to get back to the building on Tuesday and get into the apartment to get her medications, but everything is water damaged from the sprinkler system (with all of its stagnant water) and the firehoses. All her furniture. All her clothes. Her bed. Her degrees. Gone.

Everything she owned is gone. She literally owns less now than when she was homeless. She's despairing and trying her best to keep it together, but she's lost so many homes in her life, going back to when she was 17 and her parents found out she is gay and kicked her out.

This all feels like too much. Please help. Please donate what you can, and share where you're able.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/fire-took-chris-baileys-home-they-need-help

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hello!! This is my first time requesting something so I'm sorry if I did it wrong or something, so I was wondering if you could do one with preferably Dazai where the reader is suicidal and mostly copes with humor. Oh and could the reader also be a teen like 13 years old?

Circus Hop

Self-Aware! Platonic! Dazai Osamu x GN! Teen! Suicidal! Reader

Description: You were two years younger then him, when he tried to end his life for the first time. You resemble him in more, then one way.

Warning: Mentions of Suicide, Suicide attempt. Parental Neglect. Emotional abuse. Terrible parents. Self-harm. Breakdown. English is my second language

Inspired by the song Circus Hop by YonKaGor.

List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.

____

Your father brought you to this small building. Someone from school insisted on that.

The room she asked you to stay was quiet. Her voice and your father's voices were muffled, because of the door.

Few minutes ago you were talking to the woman. She asked you about your life, your plans for the future, your friends.

Your answers were simple.

Nothing interesting. Don't have any plans for future. Don't want to meet my friends... Just don't want to.

Then she asked you about pictures you have drawn. And asking about your parents about death. And when the thoughts appeared.

Another set of answers.

I feel like drawing it. I feel like talking about it. After Granny's death.

You... think, that you feel like it. You still can feel, right?

Then she asked you to do some tests. First, you must answer, if some sentences can describe you¹, than you must finish some sentences², then group other sentences together ³.

After you finished, she asked you to wait here, while she talks to your father.

You were left alone.

You looked around.

There were nothing interesting for you. Yet, you continue sitting on the sofa and dangling your feet.

You didn't flinch, when your father opened the door, shouting at the woman, who was talking to him.

"Don't you have anything, that will fix them? They are creeping out everyone!"

Woman's voice was firm.

"I already told you, that your child need professional help. You should..."

Your father's gaze became colder.

"I will take them home. They aren't suicidal. They just a little brat who want some attention and who are angry at their mother and I for working too much and not playing in their stupid games. Come, [Y/N], we are leaving!"

He took your hand in his and start to drag you behind him. You simply follow after him.

Before completely leaving the small building, your father stopped.

"Where's your jacket?"

You point at the door, that leads to woman's office.

"There. I forgot it there "

Your father grumble something and, after slapping you on the back of the neck, he walked towards the door and enter the office again.

"Idiotic brat."

Nothing new. As usual.

Then you heard, how the secretary and one of the janitors were talking.

"Another one of these parents. At first, they refuse to treat their children, because they don't have time for that..." Janitor said, glaring at the office door.

"And then, they must find time to bury their kid..." The secretary's gaze was full of sympathy, when she looked at you.

Your father returns with your jacket. You put if on and follow your father again.

He was mumbling under his breath.

"The nerve of this woman... [Y/N]! Just stop being sad. Be happy!"

You mindlessly nodded. You didn't pay much attention to your father's words. One thought were circling in your head.

"Is it important... to attend someone's funeral?"

_______

It was important. At least, The Internet said so.

Your parents... Work hard. If you die, they won't be able to go to your funeral.

You shouldn't die. At lest, for now.

But... You were so tired. You were so afraid. Future was scary. Life was scary.

and you were a failure

You remembered, your father's advice.

"Just stop being sad. Be happy."

Maybe... you could...

________

For a year, you followed your father's advice.

For one year, you manage to keep up a happy façade.

You became interested in life again.

probably... you do become interested in your hobbies again... at least...you don't even scratch your legs or pull out your hair that much.

Dad's advice works.

kind of... your jokes freaked people out... but the school therapist insisted on helping you in secret from your parents.

when dad found out, he enrolled you in a different school.

he yelled at you for being a brat

mom yelled at you for being a difficult child

You must stay happy. Just be happy.

Pretend to be happy.

you just want to be truly happy again

________

You liked BSD even before these thoughts appeared in your head. Your Granny bought you BSD Manga as a birthday present. It is special to you.

Dazai was one of your favorite character before. Now, he truly became your most favorite. You two are similar. He laughs and jokes. You laugh and joke.

both of you need help

You shake your head, chasing away the thoughts.

You open BSD Mayoi app, humming that song again.

________

Dazai felt nervous.

Two weeks ago, he and the rest of BSD Cast finally got into your world. And, he didn't like what he saw.

First, your parents left the country for a business trip. Leaving you under the care of a complete stranger. Who checked on you two times a day. For the rest of the day, they were doing their own business. And don't pick up the phone.

Your parents left a thirteen-year-old you on your own!

Thankfully, with a few bucks from Fitzgerald and a death glare from Fukuzawa, your 'babysitter' left. You were under BSD Cast care now.

Second, your jokes are concerning. Dazai isn't a hypocrite, he admits, that he jokes about ending his own life! When he and others heard your jokes, back in their world, Dazai was sure that it was his bad influence. But, it turns out, the truth was much darker.

Dazai stopped joking about suicide. He didn't want to worsen your condition even more.

Third, the scratches on your legs.

You scraped your knee a few days ago, and Yosano bandaged it. And she saw this strange marks on your legs. Scratches. Deep. Dazai had a feeling, that you were the one, who made them.

Dazai was worried about you. He wanted to help you.

_______

With each day, it became harder and harder for you to pretend to be happy.

BSD Cast makes sure of that.

They weren't rude. They didn't yell. They... were there.

Asking if you need help. Telling you, that you are allowed to cry. That they will always be there for you.

You wanted to tell them everything. To tell the truth.

But, the call from your father happened.

_____

"Why your voice shaking, [Y/N]? Are you being a brat again?"

"I...I..."

"You're a little ungrateful... You want to make our lives hard?! Did you like it?! You know what, fine! If you didn't want to be there so badly, then d[|||||||||||||||]! See, if your mother and I will cry."

The call ended.

And you were broken.

______

It was dinner time. And you were uncharacteristically silent. No laughter. No jokes. No questions. No talking about your day. Nothing.

Then in the middle of the dinner, you start humming the song. Song, that they heard you humming all the time.

But your eyes were empty.

Dazai carefully touch your shoulder.

"[Y/N], kiddo? Are you alright?"

You slowly nodded. An empty grin appears on your face.

"I am! I am fine... I am happy! I...I can even sing a song!"

BSD Cast looked at each other. Dazai carefully spoke.

"A song?"

You nodded, taking your phone. You quickly found an instrumental.

"Yes! Want to hear it?"

You didn't wait for his, or anyone's response, you pressed play button. The song started playing from the middle.

A cheerful melody start playing.

Soon you sang.

"I shall now accept the fact that I'm a failure (You're a failure). 'Cause I'm still afraid the future might be scarier (It is scarier). I'll slip while having fun and cut off my own tongue. They'll think I was dumb!"

The grin on your face and empty gaze was frightening. Everyone slowly stand up from the table. Fukuzawa took a step towards you.

"[Y/N], if something is wrong, please..."

You ignored him.

"Up from the sky, I won't want you to cry. So here's an act for everyone to sneer at"

Suddenly, you stand up and star jumping up and down.

"So sing along, it's such a silly song. The cackling carousel, it spins and never stops. The acrobat who's waiting at the top. Should do a circus hop!"

You let out a hysterical laughter.

Mom and dad won't cry. No one would care. You can't be happy. You didn't feel anything. No one would care.

"I've said goodbye, I don't want you to cry. So have a laugh with everyone but me"

You were now standing in the middle of the room. You didn't pay attention to BSD Cast. To their pleas to talk to them.

The only thing that matters to you was the open window.

Quick.

You made a dash towards the window. For some reason, you still sang.

You forced yourself to sing. Like this song gave you strength.

"So sing along, it's such a silly song. The cackling carousel, it spins and never stops. The acrobat who fell off from the top. They did a little drop!"

Right before you grab the window's handle, something heavy crushed against you.

You fall down on the floor.

Dazai was pinning you to the floor, making sure, that you can't move.

Something wet fall on your face. You looked up.

Dazai was crying. With shaking hands, he hugged you.

BSD Cast surrounded you. You were in a group hug.

"[Y/N]! Never, never do it again! Kiddo..."

"[Y/N]! Are you hurt? Do you need medical help?"

"First thing tomorrow we are going to the therapist... No! I will find the therapist right now! There must be someone working right now!"

Tears. They were worried about you. They were crying for you.

For the first time since Granny's death, you cried.

"I... I am so scared! After Granny died, I was so alone! Mom and Dad weren't home! They didn't answer my questions about Granny! One day... I just stopped to care about the future. I was afraid of future! Live became so hard! I didn't feel anything... I just want it to end! I want to..."

You didn't finish your sentence and sobbed, hiding your face in Dazai's chest.

Dazai's words were warm. His voice was still shaky.

"You are not alone, [Y/N]... We will be there. I will be there."

_____

For the next few days, you were constantly under supervision. BSD Cast make sure, that you don't have any access to sharp things, medicine, windows.

You start attending therapy. What surprised you the most, that Dazai were attending it with you.

"I will be a bad big brother, if I don't act as an example."

Your parents were fired. Fitzgerald pressed charges about neglect and abuse.

You don't know how, but Fitzgerald adopted you almost instantly.

You had a long way ahead of you.

But you know, you will be better.

Because, one time, you finally thought about your future. And you were waiting for this future to come.

____

¹ Modifications of "Eysenck's Personality Test" for Teens is used to diagnose suicidal behavior.

²Modification of "Sacks Sentence Completion Test, SSCT" is used to diagnose suicidal behavior of teens and children.

³ One of the test, that is used by psychologists in Russia.

[baiwu-jinji]

Hi ! I'm @memt_tgcf from twitter, I saw from your tweet that people were asking questions via your tumblr, so I decided to do the same, hope it isn't bothering you. I've been seen LOTS of comments from 猫耳 calling huahua as "HuaCha", or (flower emoji) + (tea emoji), (lots of tea/cha emoji) whenever there seems something going on between Hualian, but couldn't really understand what this "CHA" supposed to mean.

Could you kindly elaborate on this one ?

Hi! :) Sorry about the late reply >< “Cha” means tea and it’s a reference to the Chinese internet slang “lü cha biao” (绿茶婊), literally meaning “green tea bitch”. A “green tea bitch” is a woman that projects a guileless, harmless and innocent persona but is actually ambitious, manipulative and calculating - she’s good at creating situations and making insinuations to get close to the guy she wants; she acts meek and delicate in front of a guy to make him feel empowered and protective of her; she’s nice and attentive to a guy she wants but indifferent to other people; she makes an effort with her appearance to attract a guy but makes it seem effortless etc. “Green tea bitch” is a derogatory and arguably misogynistic term, but TGCF fans use it to take a dig at HC for being sly and scheming when he’s courting XL. HC does actually exhibit some actions similar to that of “lü cha biao”: he acts like he’s scared of the ghosts so XL would comfort and protect him, and then he compliments XL for how powerful he is even though HC scared away the ghosts himself; he acts like he just casually runs into XL when it’s a deliberate meeting; he tells XL that he prefers XL’s place to his Paradise Manor because XL’s place feels more like home, so XL basically has to invite him over again; he makes those moves that slyly send the message that he and XL are a couple, such as telling XL that ghosts gift their ashes to someone they choose before giving his own ashes to XL, and tying the red string of fate on XL’s hands in the name of keeping in touch of him; he’s most attentive and considerate to XL but careless of anyone else; he wants XL to like his appearance and dresses up for him (this is apparent in the new extra), and being HC, of course he makes it effortless.

[two-white-butterflies]

take her home | c55

Description: He meets some woman on the internet and takes her home. Carlos Sainz opens twitter and finds the one.

Pairing: carlos sainz/doctor!reader

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yn_is_me: Just to remind people that I exist 🍒

liked by carlossainz55 and 1,239 others

>comments

nicerevengegirlie: BABY YOU ARE POSITIVELY GLOWING - yn_is_me: birds of a feather, bbyghorl ❤️

carlandosupporter: CARLOS I SEE U IN THE LIKES

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yn_is_me: 10.21.23 Flashback to my modeling days in Miami. I was 15/16 by the time this photo was taken. The cigarette was a prop and I had sooo much fun. It's nice to look at the road I could've taken. Ultimately, I chose to become a doctor 🍒 and dios mio, life has been a dream ❤️

liked by carlossainz55 and 3,283 others

>comments

carlandoshipper: NOW I'M QUESTIONING YOU... BABE UR SO FUCKING GORGEOUS WHY ARE YOU FANGIRLING OVER CARLOS REPLYING TO U?

carlandoshipper: You are the fucking goal NOT HIM

ultravioletrays5: I used to go to school with her in Salvador. She's one of the few ppl that looked gorgeous before becoming famous.

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formulaoneshitposting: IS IT JUST ME OR IS Y/N IN THE SAME FREQUENCY AS CARLOS 😭 THEIR INTERACTIONS ONLINE ARE GIVING ME LIFFEEE

liked by 82 others

>comments

ohwwwwheen3: Yeah it also helps with the fact that she's so hot 😭 we're gonna get the most beautiful ferrari WAGS

hotnotch: We've been known since she became a VS Model. I think she always had the best face and body for modeling but she chose to become something more private. ALSO RESPECT ON HER NAME IT'S DR. Y/N L/N

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FormulaOneUpdates: Dr. Y/N L/N in the paddocks !

liked by 7,128 others

>comments

AvidAviator: OH MY GOD? WHO IS SHE?

hoareu4: She's so beautiful

watchmewhip: VS MODEL?

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carlossainz55: Not a cruel summer 🌊☀️ tagged: yn_is_me

liked by 1,293,102 others

>comments

holymackerels: THE HARD LAUNCH IS REAL

yn_is_me: only one picture??? hm..will post the others 🤣

ynandcarlosfanbase: THEY LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL

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yn_is_me: resisting the urge to push him down tagged: carlossainz55

liked by Charles_Leclerc and 5,682 others

>comments

ohnowhw: It all started with AI...

Charles_Leclerc: Nice picture of your dog! - yn_is_me: nooo that's my cat 😁

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yn_is_me added a picture to her story!

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F1WagsStarterpack: Who is Y/N L/N? Dr. L/N graduated from Yale University with a degree in Neurosurgery. She came from a very proficient family who used to live in Brazil. She is a former Victoria's Secret model who was active from 2008-2012.

liked by 712,832 others

>comments

mastermindf1: So she's a rich girl? Nothing special about that. - F1WagsStarterpack: Yep, idk why people are praising her over being a neurosurgeon. When you come from money, you don't have to do anything else 🤦🏻‍♀️ BARE. MINIMUM.

yn_is_me: I love the picture that you used of me, but there's a little mistake in the caption. I didn't come from a proficient family :((❤️ I had to work as a model to afford my medical school.

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yn_is_me: when boredom strikes ...

liked by 1,382 others

>comments

shehzadeshang: SHE LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE KELLY PIQUET HERE OMG WHAWHAWHAH

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[afictionaladventure16]

Heyyy!!! I absolutely loved your latest work “Taking it All In” I haven’t stopped crying since I read it. I was wondering if you could write something about the depression that the reader has in the story. Something along the lines where reader has been skipping school for some time due to depression and she hasn’t told Pedro about it. He finds out cuz eventually the school calls him and tells him whats going on with your absences and your bad grades. You two get into a fight about it because you refuse to tell him what’s going on as to not worry your dad. After days of not talking, cold shoulders and staying in your room/bed as much as possible Pedro finally cracks and tries to talk to you again. You’re in laying on your bed not wanting to move while Pedro is talking to you and he notices small cuts on your arm that your trying to hide, way to linear to be from your cat, and he finally puts the pieces together.

Taking It All In Pt. II (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pt. 1

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings: Descriptions of Self-harm, mentions of depression, suicide, and some slight hinting of eating disorders.

A/N: Thank you! You're so sweet! I hope you like this part two of Taking it All in!! Also, thank you for the details in your requests! It helps to plan what to write!

It’s been months after that hike with your father. You had gotten help, but it only helped so much. You had this fear that if you told your therapist your actual thoughts, you’d end up somewhere where grippy socks were mandatory. 

It didn’t help that you found your mother, you hadn’t told your father, but you searched and searched the internet until you found her. The woman who was so afraid of loving you, afraid of having a life with your dad, she was alive and well. 

She was happy too. You would think it would make you feel happy to hear that she was happy, to see the photos of her and her family, her two kids and husband. But all it did was take you to a dark place. The images of her at her sons' soccer game, or her at her daughters' recital. It should be you in those photos with her. 

This whole time you thought your mother was most likely dead or if she were alive, she was alone in some other country probably traveling. You didn’t ever imagine that she could have started another life. You hadn’t brought it up to your therapist, mostly because they’ve been trying to help you cope with other issues in your life. It was mostly how you felt about constantly having to travel from place to place or not having your father around as much, it meant a lot of journaling. Plus, if you told your therapist, it meant telling your father and you didn’t know how he’d react or if he already knew. 

What if he already knew. You hadn’t thought of that, it was another scenario that could happen, another scenario you don’t know if you can handle. 

You heard the front door open and then close, “I’m home!” You heard your dad call out. 

You sighed to yourself, you had ditched another day of school, but luckily for you your dad left for meetings before you even got up. Meaning that it was easy to ditch. In fact, you hadn’t gone to school at all the past week. 

Pedro was met with silence, he shrugged, “probably studying,” he muttered to himself. He made his way over to the kitchen to get dinner started. He wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he knew a thing or two. 

You made your way down the hall, “There she is!” Pedro said as he heard your footsteps get closer, “Hey, I was thinking, how does spaghetti sound tonight?” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of apple juice. 

“Sure,” you said with a shrug. You poured yourself a cup of apple juice, putting away the bottle right after. 

“Long day at school?” You gave him a nod. “Alright, well, go ahead and rest. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” You felt horrible for lying to him. He had thought everything was getting better and that you were beginning to feel happier, but it was all just a lie. It was a mask. 

** mentions of self-harm begin here **

You walked back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. The lying, the feeling of abandonment, everything, it just felt like it was all tumbling down. You pulled up your sleeves, revealing the linear cuts that you had done to yourself. It started off with something small, hitting your hands against something when you were mad, but the pain felt kind of nice. 

Not kind of, it did feel nice. It took away the pain of everything in your mind for a moment and you liked it. You liked your mind being peaceful for just a moment. But those moments only lasted a few seconds and you needed something that would last longer. You had saw some girls with some cuts on their wrists at school, it wasn’t till one day you aksed one of the girls what they were while you both were in the bathroom. The girl seemed a bit embarrassed but you were genuinely curious. She explained what they were, but she didn’t explain it further. 

For weeks you couldn’t help but think about it, but the thought of hurting yourself in that way seemed scary. What if you went too deep or if you got caught? But a week ago, when your dad had to work late, you felt yourself drowning in your thoughts. Hitting yourself against your bedframe wasn’t working. That was the night you first self-harmed, you felt lucky that the weather was getting cold again so hiding your scars was easy. 

Your dad played some music while he began to boil the pasta. Your cat watched from the other side of the counter, he knew his boundaries and Pedro seemed to like the company. Pedro began to slowly dance to the rhythm of the song playing until it was cut off by the sound of ringtone, “That’s not part of the song,” he grumbled as he grabbed his phone. 

The number looked familiar, he hesitated on answering, “Could be important or a scam,” he muttered. He shrugged to himself before answering the phone, “hello?” 

“Hi! This is Linda from the JFK High School, may I speak to Y/N Pascal’s father?” 

“This is he speaking,” Pedro responded. He had no clue why your school would be calling.

“Hi, Mr. Pascal! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past few days, it wasn’t until we looked through our files that we realized we had an old phone number.” 

“Ah, yes, I changed my number. Probably should’ve updated you guys on that,” is that it? He thought. 

“It’s quite alright, but the real reason why we’ve been trying to get ahold you is because we’ve noticed that Y/N hasn’t been attending her classes for the past week.” 

Pedro stopped what he was doing, placing the wooden spoon he had in his hand down on the counter, “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.” 

“I’m afraid not. Her teachers are beginning to worry now that her grades have been slipping and she hasn’t been showing up. We were wondering if maybe the family went on vacation and someone forgot to notify the school?”

“N-No, we’re not on vacation,” Pedro looked towards the hall. 

“Well, is there any reason why she hasn’t been in school?” 

“I-I don’t know, I thought she had been going to clases this whole time.” 

“Will she be there on Monday?” 

“She’ll be there Monday,” he stated. 

“It is my obligation to let you know that if the student doesn’t show up for school for another full week that the school will revoke certain privileges for Y/N.” Pedro knew the consequences of you missing school, it could also mean jail time on his case. 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this. Thank you, Linda.” 

“Of course,” Linda said before hanging up. 

Pedro placed his phone back on the counter, he then shut off the burners on the stove. “What do I do, gatito?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know what to say or ask even. He let out a deep sigh before making his way down the hall. 

He knocked on your door, “Mija, puedo entrar?” (Can I enter?)

You opened the door, “dinner is ready already?” you asked with a confused expression on your face. 

Pedro felt his heart break, there you stood, his little girl, in front of him. He never expect you to miss school and not tell him, it only meant one thing. You were lying to him about everything. “No,” he said softly. He was trying so hard to remain calm, but there was a part of him that wanted to yell and ask why the hell you werent going to schoo. Then there was that nurturing side of him that just wanted to ask you why you weren’t going to school. Both had the same question, just a different way of approaching it. “Can I come in?” 

You shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. You watched as he sat on the edge of your bed, “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent truthful with me, okay?” He asked

You chuckled slightly, expecting some dumb question, “okay.” 

“Mija, no estoy bromeando horita, necesito que me escuches.” (I’m not joking right now, I need you to listen). 

Oh fuck, he knows, you thought. You gave him a nod, “did you miss school this past week?” You nod again. Pedro took in a deep breath, “Why?” 

You shrugged, “papi, it’s no big deal.” 

“No big deal!?” He yelled as he stood up. “Mija, do you know I can go to jail because you haven’t gone to school!? Do you have any idea how stupid that is? Que te estabas pensando, huh!?” (What were you thinking?)

You felt tears well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry! I just didn’t feel like going!” 

“If you don’t feel like going then you tell me! How come you didn’t tell me?” You remained silent, Pedro let out a deep sigh, trying to calm down again. “What’s going on, Y/N??” 

“Nothing,” you whispered. 

“No me dices que nada esta pasando, por que tu no te comportas como asi. Tu eres mi hija, y yo queiro saber que esta pasando.” (Don’t tell me that nothing is happening because you don’t behave like this, You’re my daughter and I want to know what is going on.) 

“Nada esta pasando!” You yelled, “Deja me en paz!” You walked out of your room. (Nothing is happening, leave me alone) 

“Dejarte en paz?!” He followed you out. “What is going on with you?!” 

“Would you just leave it alone? I didn’t go to school this week and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll go to school on monday, just leave it alone!” 

“I’m not just gonna brush this off, this is serious, Y/N! Missing school for a week? You can’t just do that! So, what is going on?” 

“Ugh! I don’t have to tell you every fucking thing okay?!” You yelled. You believe that this was probably the first time you ever yelled at your dad. The first time you had ever gotten in such a big argument. Didn’t mean that you two didn’t argue, you argued but it never led to a screaming match. Not like this. 

Pedro stood there in disbelief, “Y/N M/N Pascal, I am your father and I demand to know what the hell is going on with you.” 

You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t just blurt out that you found your mother; but not only did you find her, you also found her new family. You couldn’t tell him that you felt replaceable, that even he was replaceable, at least to your mother. You just couldn’t. “Nothing is going on,” you said. 

“You’re grounded,” he said in defeat. 

“Fine,” you said as you began to make your way back to your room. 

“For two months,” he added. “I’ll need your phone and your game consoles.” 

You stopped in the middle of the hall. You were doing this for him, you wanted to keep his happiness even at the cost of your own, “Fine.” You walked into your room, slamming the door behind you. 

“Slam the door and I’m taking your T.V.” 

You groaned in annoyance, “Fuck you,” you spat. You had instantly regretted saying it. Pedro stood there for a second, in shock mostly. He felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes, he wasn’t going to take your T.V. as a matter of fact, he didn’t want to take any of it away. He partially said it in hopes that you’d crack and tell him what was going on. 

He heard the cat meow at his feet, he looked down, “I think I’m loosing her, gatito,” he whispered before turning around and making his way down the hall and back to the kitchen. 

~~ 

Days went by, you didn’t speak to your dad all weekend. Spending most of your time in your bedroom, your mind was all over the place and you had self harmed some more. It felt like the more you did, the more you craved it or the more your mind raced, the more you felt the need to have that feeling. 

You didn’t eat much either, for some reason you just couldn’t think about eating. Your stomach didn’t feel hungry either so you snacked on small things. When you came home from school on Monday, your dad was in the kitchen prepping for dinner. You walked past him, not saying a word. The tension was thick, someone could cut a knife through it. 

Pedro didn’t say anything to you when you walked past him to grab something to drink, even though he wanted to say a million things. He had so much to talk to you about, so many exciting things, but he was stubborn and you were too. 

When you didn’t come out for dinner, he left a plate at the foot of your door, knocking to let you know, just like he did for past two days and just like you did, you’d wait a few minutes before grabbing your plate. You would leave it on your desk, hoping that maybe you’d feel some sensation of hunger. Yet, just like the other full plates of food beside it, you’d never touch it. 

“Just give her some time,” Javiera said into the phone. Pedro had called her Monday afternoon while he was out for a drive. 

“How much time?” he asked, his voice strained from crying. He had called her up crying about twenty minutes ago, and like the big sister she was, she tried her best to console him through the phone. 

“A few more days, she’ll crack soon enough,” she said hopeful. “You’re a good dad, Pedro.” 

“I sure as hell don’t feel like it right now.” 

“I know,” she began, “all parents feel that way one day or another.” 

“I just… I wish I knew what happened you know? Why did she all of a sudden just become this totally different person?” 

“Teenagers,” she expressed. “Don’t you remember how you were?” 

“Don’t get me started,” he chuckled. 

“You were the worst!” Pedro knew she was right. He had given his parents a hard time when he was a teenager. “It’ll get better, I promise.” 

Tuesday comes and goes and so does Wednesday. By Wednesday night you ate some of your dinner, but you still couldn’t stomach to eat all of it. You only ate because of how dizzy you felt all day. Thursday comes and goes, you caved into your cravings more as each day passed, your arm was full of scars, it felt raw to the touch. 

You cried yourself to sleep most nights. Friday night Pedro went to knock on your door, only to hear you crying. He knocked softly, but was only met with “Go away.” He felt so defeated, he wanted this silent treatment to be over with. He wanted his baby girl back and he wanted to help you with whatever you were going through. He knocked again, “Go away!” He shook his head, opening the door, you were laying in bed, your arms covering your face. 

“Mija,” he said softly. 

“Please, just go away!” you yelled. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it anymore,” he began to say, he noticed the uneaten food on your desk. His heart sunk, looking back over at you, taking in how you looked. He walked over to the desk, some of the food began to develop mold. He let out a shaky breath, walking over to the bed, “Baby girl,” he said. Pedro noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual long sleeve, for a while he was beginning to worry that you had begun to harm yourself because you were always wearing long sleeves. 

It relieved him to see you in a short sleeve for once, he inched closer, you still hard your arms covering your face. You were too focused on what was on your mind to realize that your father was near you and that you weren’t wearing a long sleeve. Even if you had realized it, it would be too late. 

Pedro spotted something red near your wrists, but your arms were in a position where he couldn’t see your whole wrists. Yet, the small amount he did see was enough to send him in a panic. Pedro was soft with his touch, he grabbed your hand gently, pulling it towards him so he could see your wrists. 

You quickly pulled away your arm, holding it close to your chest as you sat up in the bed, “get out,” you said through clenched teeth. 

“How long have you been doing that?” Your dad asks, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Get out!” you yelled. 

“How long!?” tears fell from his eyes, he stood up from the bed. “How long, Y/N?” he asked again. 

“Dad, I don’t want you to cry,” You said as you looked at the ground, “Just please get out.” 

“No! I’m not gonna-” he inhaled, “you’re not shutting me out.” 

“Please,” you begged as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You got up from the bed, walking over to the door and opening it. “Get out,” you begged. 

He shook his head, “Why?” he cried, “Why would you do that to yourself?” You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, “And don’t say it’s the cat, because that’s too many for the cat. It’s too clean. I thought you were getting better.” 

You looked at your dad, you could see the pain you were trying avoid. The heartache you hated to see, “I’m not better,” you confessed. “I’ve never gotten better.” 

“What?” He asked in disbelief. 

“I didn’t get better, okay?” You said loudly, holding back the sob that was scratching at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out. “Is that what you want to hear?” 

“You think I want to hear that my baby girl never got better?” You remained silent. He walked over to you, taking your had to look at the marks again. He sniffled, “My beautiful baby girl,” he sobbed, “why would you do this?” 

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a deep shaky breath, letting the sob take over you. “I couldn’t handle it anymore, it’s all too much, okay? It’s so loud in here,” you gestured towards your head. 

Pedro couldn’t handle seeing you cry, he pulled you in, feeling you tightly wrap your arms around his body. “Why?” he kept asking. 

“I was trying to protect you,” your dad let go of the embrace. 

He placed his hands on your face, “Mija, I should be the one protecting you, Okay? Whatever it is that you’ve been holding in, I can handle it. You never have to worry about me.” 

You wanted to spill everything, it was like the dam inside was breaking and this was just the little drop of water to break it. “I found her,” you confessed. 

He looked at you with a confused expression, “who?” 

“My mom,” you inhaled, “I found her,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. Pedro was in disbelief, she was alive, for the longest he just kind of accepted that she passed away. 

“That’s what you were trying to protect me from?” He questioned. 

You shook her head, “That’s not the best part,” you began. “You know what the best part is?” You began to walk back over to your bed. You let out a small sob, “The best part is that I also found out that we’re replaceable.” Pedro watched as you sat on your bed, it pained him to see you in such dismay. It also pained him to hear the news that your mother was alive, she was alive and had another family. “The woman we both thought was trying to protect us from herself, is out there with a family of her own-” 

“Cariño,” your dad tried to interrupt. 

“I have a brother and sister that I don’t even know! And she’s in these pictures laughing with them, she’s at birthday parties and soccer games,” you took in a shaky breathe. 

“Y/N,” He took a couple steps towards you. 

“That should be me, dad,” There was the drop of water to break the dam. “It should be us,” you sobbed. Pedro quickly pulled you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder, “It should be us,” you sobbed. 

“I know, Mija,” he whispered as tears fell from his eyes, “I know.” He let you cry it out for a few minutes, mostly because at that moment he didn’t know what to say exactly. How he should console you after finding out something no one should ever experience. His mind wandered, how could someone create another family when they left one behind? He thought if it were him, he wouldn’t be able to do it. He knew it would always be in the back of his mind that he had abandoned another family. 

Did it wander in the back of her head? Or did she just not care? 

Pedro felt so angry just thinking about it. He wanted to track her down and just yell into the void. She was the love of his life or so he thought. He had considered her the love of his life, hopeful that one day she’d realize what she left behind and come back. She wasn’t coming back, though and now he knew that. Now he had to console you and find a way to show her what she missed out on. 

Pedro let go of the embrace, taking your face in his hands once again. His thumb gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down your face, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking at you again. “We don’t need her,” he started to say. 

“But-” 

“I know, Mijita. It hurts,” you nod, “She has no idea what she’s missing out on, Mijita. Her kids have no idea what a horrible person she truly is as fucked up as that sounds, it’s true.” He gave you a smile through the tears, “The only thing that matters is that she gave me you, my beautiful baby girl. That’s all I know of her, she gave me you and she was nothing else.” 

“You don’t regret being with her?” 

Pedro could never regret it, “No, because then I wouldn’t have you. I can’t imagine my life without my little girl. I’m sorry you don’t have a mom in your life, but not every girl has multiple mom figures in their lives.” It was true, you had your tia and some of your dads close friends. Your dad let go of your face, he took a hold of your wrist. “But this,” he started to say, tears welled up in his eyes again, “Oh, baby girl,” he sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried. 

“No, no, no,” he pulled you in for a quick embrace, before letting go, “we’re going to work on this together okay?” You nod, “I can help, we’ll make more appointments with your therapists, we’ll find healthy alternatives, and we’ll overcome this.” He choked back a sob, “but I never want to see you harming yourself again, please promise me that?” You remained silent. 

You weren’t sure if you could promise it, mostly because you were addicted to the way it made you feel. “Prometeme, Y/N.” (Promise me)

“I-I’ll try,” you finally said. Pedro didn’t want to push it, if trying was what he could get, then it was enough for him. He could work with trying. Trying meant putting the effort and it meant to him that you still wanted to live. 

“Trying is all I need,” he said. “I can’t lose you. Know that you have people that love you.” 

You looked up at your dad in realization, you never realized how much it could impact your dad. How self harm was always correlated with darker actions. Darker actions that your father had a past with. This time, you pulled him into an embrace, “you won’t lose me,” you said.  “I can promise you that.” 

He let out a relieved sigh, “we’ll have to talk about the food on your desk too.” 

“I’m sorry,” you began. “I just-” 

“No, I know.” You didn’t have to say more, he knew what it was like. To be too much in your mind to even eat. He understood, “let’s get you something to eat, hmm?” 

You nod, watching as he got up from the bed, “I love you, papi.” 

“I love you too, Mija,” he gave you a small smile. You got up from the bed, following him into the kitchen. He ordered you your favorite take out, once the food had arrived you both took the food to the living room. 

Pedro glanced over at your wrist from time to time, his heart sank every time, but he was going to get you better help. Over time, the cuts will heal and they’ll just be white little memories of the battles you’ve dealt with, but Pedro knew he never wanted you to feel like you’ve hit rock bottom. From here on out, he was going to try his hardest to make sure you were your healthiest, physically and mentally.

He placed a small kiss on your temple, “love you,” he said softly. 

You gave him a smile, “Love you too, dad,” you said, focusing your attention back on the television. You both knew the journey from here on out wasn’t going to be easy, it wasn’t said aloud, but it was like a silent acknowledgment. But eventually, it’ll be okay because pain was just temporary.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01  @tracysnookok  @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @twkobii

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[coltrainbat]

What about chubbish and kind reader getting criticized for dating the world's sexiest man of 2022, she felt upset and cries. Chris felt angry at the people who doesn't know about his girlfriend

Sexist Girl Alive (Curvy!Reader)

A.N/WARNING: Screenshots are obvi fake, TW for fatphobia, slurs, people being mean ☹️ but happy ending, photos arent mine (mwah pinterest)

You smiled at the photo of you two, dressed up before a night out. Chris lips lovingly on your cheeks as you smiled happily. You thought you looked great in your new skin tight dress. Sure it showed a few insecurities but you hoped the black would hide it. Your makeup and hair was all done up and Chris couldn’t stop loving on you all night.

You chuckled at the sweet yet corny caption. He would never live it down - would he? You shook your head, grinning like an idiot. 

Fighting your better instinct, you went through the comments, chewing your thumb nail as you eyes laid on the key words:

“Fat” 

“Cow” 

“She takes up the whole mirror.” 

“It should be illegal for someone like her to wear a dress like that”

“Chris Evans is legally blind if he thinks she’s sexy”

You licked the taste of salty tears that had landed on your upper lip. You took a shaky breathe out as you quickly wiped away the tears that were forming. You felt pathetic, crying about what a bunch of nobody’s had to say about your body. They were jealous, they didn’t know you, they were protective of their internet boyfriend - your mind ran through all the reasons for such vile comments but that still didn’t stop the feeling of sadness and inadequacy that ran through you. 

That was until a wet little nose landed on your cheek, paw pushing the phone away from your face. 

“Would you look at that you found mama- baby what’s wrong?” Chris came in, catching your tear stained cheeks and red, watery eyes.

“The um… instagram you posted you-“ You were hiccuping, anxiously patting Dodgers coat. Too embarrassed to meet his eyes, firmly focused on the Instagram comments that were now blurry. 

“I didn’t post your nudes did I?!” His face full of concern that he had pulled another, much worse, social media blunder. 

“No.” You left out a shaky faux laugh 

“You left comments on and well some people aren’t very nice.” 

“Show me right now.” His jaw went tight and his expression changed to pure disgust and anger.

You handed him the phone, digging your face into Dodgers coat, drying your tears.

Chris’s eyes scanned the comments, jaw tightening as he grounded his teeth. 

“That’s it.” He throw the phone next him, making his way up in a frenzy.

“Chris it’s not a big deal I’m just emotional.”

“It is a fucking big deal.” He raised his voice now, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Chris wasn’t an angry person, rarely getting upset but when you were involved; people better run.

It perplexed him everyday how he thinks he landed the most beautiful woman in the world yet people want to pick apart something as stupid as your weight.

Chris wasn’t blind at all, he was  engrossed and obsessed with every curve, every roll, every stretch mark, every sag. He loved them all.

He couldn’t get enough of grabbing your belly whenever he could, even in public. His hand without fail always travelled from your waist to your pudge, slowly stroking the skin or the fabric - it relaxed him.

Or at home when he’d forgo your ass and instead just grab a roll and jiggle it in his hands, fuck, in his mind it was a bonus to your ass, more skin he could fondle and touch and enjoy, more ways to get a whole body ripple out of you.

Or in the morning before you’d wake up when he’d slowly trace your stretch marks, adoring the way they looked like tiger stripes he felt like they were a natural piece of art on your body.

The way your thighs would wrap tightly around his head, a built in pillow for him to rest on while he traced your body with his hands, following the natural trail created by your curves.

How every hug felt soft and warm as you pressed your plump body up against him, he would get so frustrated that he couldn’t grab every single part of you all at once and just squeeze but a hug was the closest thing.

He didn’t think pure beauty existed until he saw you for the first time, he remembers the way he jaw fell agape slightly and his eyes widened desperate to touch you, desperate to have you in his bed every night. 

You were his now and he wasn’t going to let some bullshit comments take that away from him.

To take the spark and light out of you, to push you down to a place where you felt you were anything but incredible.

You body wasn’t just a wonderland but the home for the soul in which he adored, his kind, intelligent, resilient, witty, outspoken, well read and highly cultured, drop dead gorgeous woman.

The purity of you being so authentically yourself was sacred to him and he was fiercely protective of you for that.

He dreaded the day the comments got too much and he cringed at the thought of you changing any part of the woman he met for some fucking comments. It wouldn’t happen. Not on his watch.

“You can’t just- you can’t fucking say those things about someone! I mean we go back 200 fucking years and there’s your body in fucking oil paintings around castles and here we are now where your accomplishments, your personality, your kindness, your fucking beauty is just completely shitted on.”

“I dealt with it way before I started dating you.” 

“Well it ends now.” He said crouching down in front of you as you sat curled into a ball on the couch. 

His eyes had softened and he was desperate for you to meet his. Wanting to assure you with everything he had that this meant nothing to him. 

“Baby you know I don’t agree with those comments right. Fuck, you remember how much I couldn’t keep my hands off you that night.”

“And every night before.” You snorted 

He gave you a soft smile, happy you were back to making jokes “Exactly.” 

“It’s my fault I should of turned comments off but we shouldn’t have to do that. I’m going to write something and that should be the end of it.” 

“We shouldn’t react that’s what they want.” You said wearily.

“In no world is that going to be said about you and I just sit back and let it happen. Absolutely not. Now come on, let’s get you in the bath.”

You sunk into the steaming water as the smell of lavender and rose filled your nose and muscles you didn’t realise you were tensing finally relaxed. Repeating mantras of self assurance in your head with the distant sound of Chris scurrying around the bedroom and his muffled voice on the phone. 

 Getting out and into your robe after an hour you made your way into the bedroom, finding an exhausted Chris waiting for you on the bed.

“Come here I wanna show you something.” He tapped the spot next to him, inviting you to snuggle against his chest as he got out his phone.

You rolled your eyes, sighing as you got comfortable. 

“Read.” He said sternly, putting his phone into your hand.

You brushed the tears forming in your eyes from happiness. Two things you could always count on with Chris is his ability to make you the happiest person alive and his passion. Combine them and you’re a babbling mess of gratitude and love. Pulling his head down towards you, peppering kisses all over his face and whispering thank you against his lips. 

“Don’t thank me come on now.”

“It was very well said.”

“Yeah well we won’t need this for awhile.” He grabbed his phone from you, throwing it down the bed as he fell off the edge, landing with a small thump.

“Come here sexy, I wanna love on my girl.” You giggled as his beard brushed against your neck as he left wet soppy kisses down your body, untieing your robe to get your unfiltered body in all its glory. 

Chris’s comments created a storm of support, bringing up a conversation of why a woman’s body is ever a topic of concern and the high expectations of male celebrity partners to look a certain way. 

And months down the line he still stood by them. Stating in an interview:

“I don’t think I have ever been more furious than when I read those comments. You know you have this beautiful, intelligent partner and you’re both in this happy little bubble of love and admiration and then these strangers, randoms on the internet just start attacking them for all the things you love about them. It’s like a kick in the gut. I felt so guilty like it was my fault because she didn’t ask to be famous or anything and it’s not easy to give that privacy and anonymity up to follow your heart but she did it anyways and all she was met with was horrible comments. Man, I was so scared that was going to be it for her and I’d never see her again. It just felt like people don’t realise that’s a real person, we are real people and if you wouldn’t say that to someone’s face then why comment it where they can see? She didn’t deserve that at all and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it never happened again. She means the world to me, I’d do anything to protect her. I’m just lucky I get to wake up to her everyday and she’s this strong, resilient person who can’t be knocked down easily.”

[jqmalikhsgib]

planets aligned

note: this is for my plus size readers! as a plus size woman myself, we deserve more representation!!!

one

you groaned as your alarm goes off. you reach over to slam your hand against the machine, but you couldn’t find the button. you frowned with your eyes closed until you felt someone turning in the bed.

you turned slowly to find your ex boyfriend cuddled up to you. you remember the events of last night. both of you had got really drunk, talking and laughing about the past. you remember the paparazzi yelling at you when you left the club that night, holding hands with trey.

you groaned once more before getting up and finding your clothes scattered all over the bed. quickly grabbing them, you rushed to get dressed before leaving his hotel room. you put on your shades, knowing the paps are most likely waiting for you outside.

when you spot them you groan once more before walking out the building.

“yn! yn! yn!”

“yn, what does this mean for you and trey?”

“are you and trey back together?”

“she we be expecting a wedding soon?”

you ignore every last question. thankfully your best friend was outside waiting for you. you didn’t even have to call.

you hop in the car quickly before she drives off and hands you a coffee. “you’re a lifesaver!”

“none of that. what were you thinking?! trey? seriously? you went home to him of all people?”

you frowned. you knew exactly why she was upset. trey had cheated on you for the whole two years you were together. he was a dick and mentally abused you for half of your relationship. he’s the reason why you’re so insecure about your body. for so long, many people have called you fat, you never really battered an eye. when trey did it, you became shy, closed off, started wearing baggy clothes, quit multiple modeling jobs, you became super depressed. your best friend was the one to pick up the pieces. if it wasn’t for her you’d probably end your entire career and move back home to your parents house, who cut you off until you come to your senses and quit this modeling nonsense.

of course if you let that happen you’d let them win. besides, you were a very successful model! you earned way too much money and had millions of women who adored you to pieces. you were one of the few faces to plus size and bigger women who struggled with their confidence because of bullies and internet trolls who had nothing better to do than harass a woman for being comfortable in her skin.

you enjoyed your career and your fanbase. you weren’t about to let some loser like trey or your parents take this way from you.

“i know, fariah, i know! i wasn’t thinking. i was drunk and horny. trust me, im kicking myself already.” you sigh.

“you better be lucky i explain to your date that it was an idiotic mistake and it’ll never happen again. he agreed to still meet you.”

you shook your head aggressively. “absolutely not! im not going on a date with another one of your boyfriends, friends. they’ve all been a total disaster, fariah. i have no idea jason had friends like that. you seriously need to tell him to hang out with better people.” you state.

“confessions? they’re more like jason’s brothers, friends.”

“that explains a lot then! jason’s brothers a dick.”

“come on! one more date, please? if this one turns out to be a dick, no more!”

“fine! what’s his name?”

“preston.”

“he sounds like an asshole! but i’ll give it a shot! no more after this, though! please?”

“cross my heart.”

you’d been at the restaurant you were suppose to meet this preston guy. it had been an hour since you’ve sat down, waiting. you roll your eyes, realizing you’d been stood up.

finally getting the courage to sit up and head to the bar, you ordered a drink. you were extremely embarrassed. you felt like everyone was staring at you.

in that moment you decided to give up on love and just stay single forever. every guy you’ve dated had been boys men who clearly had commitment issues or simply just assholes who didn’t know how to please a woman.

your sex life was completely sad and dull. most men just wanted to get off. they couldn’t care less about making another woman cum. it had been a while since a man has made you orgasm.

that wasn’t the biggest issue, though. you were just tired of getting your heart broken. you’d let someone in, they show you love and affection for a few weeks, suddenly they act like you don’t exist. it was exhausting!

you wanted—needed something more.

“penny for your thoughts?” you turned. you were about to tell the guy to leave you the hell alone but, he was none other than eddie munson.

you remember having multiple corroded coffin poster on your wall back home. you loved corroded coffin! your parents hated listening to them. they were into classical music and never understood why you listened to such ‘trash’ music.

you didn’t understand why you liked them either. you weren’t much of a heavy metal fan, but they sounded amazing. not to mention, eddie was your celebrity crush. he was handsome with his long dark hair, leather jacket, the multiple rings he’d wear, the guy-liner, most importantly, the tattoos and piercings. god, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

you were ten when you started listening to corroded coffin. eddie was twenty-six. now you were twenty-six and you knew he was in his early forties.

but eddie was still handsome as ever. though today he didn’t have long wavy hair. instead he had somewhat of a bold cut. it suited him, honestly.

he definitely had more muscle on him, his facial hair was coming in slightly, he dressed a little more the same, currently wearing a black sabbath t-shirt. he looked amazing.

“you okay there, pretty girl?”

pretty girl?! holy shit!

“uh—yeah it’s just—you’re eddie munson.”

eddie chuckles. “that’s correct! but you’re yn yln! everyone adores you. including my daughter.”

“oh? she a fan, huh?”

“yeah! all she talk about is you. ‘daddy, yn posted another photo!’ ‘dad, yn commented on my post!’ ‘oh, yn is going to paris. could we go too, daddy?!’ she likes you more than me.”

yn giggles.

“well she should adore you! i use to listen to corroded coffin all the time growing up. my parents hated my ‘loud ass music’ but i couldn’t get enough. i still listen to you guys when i need to just feel, you know?”

“hmm, i completely understand, darlin. so i take it you’re a huge fan?”

“you’re kiddin right?! absolutely. i had the biggest crush on yo—” before you could stop yourself, you groan.

eddie smirks. “yeah? was crushin on me hard, sweetheart?”

“god, please tell me i can rewind that and start over?”

“don’t think that’s how that works, baby. but if it makes you feel any better, im crushin on you now.”

suddenly the room gets significantly hotter. eddie runs his hands against your cheek. “i got a hotel room right above the restaurant. why don’t we head up there?”

you hum as eddie grabs your hand and you both head to the elevator.

the very next day you woke up to another alarm. immediately getting deja vu you shot up. when you turned you heard the bathroom door open. when eddie munson walks out he had a towel wrapped around his waist and he smirks at you.

“good morning, baby. slept good last night?”

you blush when you think about the events of last night. eddie had made you cum a number of times. you lost count after three. he’d been the best sex you’ve ever had in a long time. and the aftercare, fuck! he was such a gentleman. your brain soon starts to fumble though. you knew this was probably a one time thing.

eddie hasn’t dated since his ex wife died, leaving him with a daughter to raise on his own. you didn’t expect anything else from him.

“yeah! it was great.”

you give him a fake smile before looking for your clothes. once you found them, you got up and started to put them on. eddie frowns.

“what are you doing, baby?”

“i get this was a one time thing. i don’t wanna waste anymore of your time. im just gonna head out.”

“hey! first, you don’t need to go, okay? second, i had a great time with you, and lastly, who said anything about a one time thing?”

“i just assumed you wanted me gone. i don’t know. most guys expect me to leave right after. guess im use to it.” you shrugged your shoulders.

eddie shakes his head. “those are little boys, darlin! im a grown ass man, alright! i definitely wanna keep seeing you. maybe take you on a few dates, get to know each other better, possibly start a real relationship, baby.”

you smiled widely. “yeah?”

“mhm! now take that goddamn bra off and let’s me order some room service and possibly fuck you some more, yeah?” eddie walks over to you and kisses you passionately.

“okay!”

“good girl.” he smirks as you shiver.