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astermath · 1 year

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title taken ✧*

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan makes an offhand comment about potentially “dying a virgin”. you ask him if he’d like you to help with that. and how could he possibly refuse?

word count: 3.8K

notes: first time fully writing smut on this blog! I hope I did okay lol I probs got a bit carried away,, I remember hearing his comment in the movie and being like I VOLUNTEER I CAN HELP lmao, anyways,,, comments / reblogs are highly appreciated, and requests are open! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!

warnings: cursing, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), ethan realizing how much he loves going down on you lol, MINORS DNI!!!! normal sized font below!

notes: guys hot take but I think ethan is a boobs guy, but what do you think? sound off in the comments ethan nation

P.S.: this is a REPOST with some slight edits, sorry for the inconvenience!!

You distinctly remember the moment when Ethan made that comment.

You were all sitting outside, discussing your theories as to who the Ghostface killer could be and who you guys should be watching out for. When Ethan realized he was part of the core friend group, and as a result, also a target, he looked panicked.

“Am I gonna die a virgin?”

It was an offhand comment that no one paid much attention to, it seemed like everyone pretty much expected that from him. But you didn’t. Sure, he was a total dork, and really bad at talking to girls, but he was a pretty boy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered hooking up with him before, but… That comment truly solidified the thought for you.

The two of you were sat on the couch of Chad and Ethan’s shared dorm. Despite Mindy telling you she didn’t trust him and that you shouldn’t be hanging out alone with him, you did very much need his tutoring. You’d rather get killed by Ghostface than have to retake econ.

But you couldn’t focus on the material. Not when Ethan’s virgin comment was making all kinds of images appear in your mind. You weren’t even listening to what he was saying, your brain having a field day with the thought of you taking that title away from him.

“Hey, Ethan.” You finally spoke up, looking away from your notes.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the end of his pen held to his lips. He always had a habit of biting his pen when he got distracted.

“Are you really a virgin?”

The bluntness of your out of the blue question completely took him out of it. His eyes widened and he just sort of froze up, like his brain short circuited. You could tell he started blushing, and god did it look adorable.

“U-Uhm…” He put down his pen and tried to look anywhere but where your eyes were. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it. He’d never even had a girlfriend, let alone have sex before, and as much as Chad tried to get him involved with girls he always struggled with it. Not just because of how awkward he generally was.

But because he had a crush on you already.

No one knew, not even his roommate, but lately he’d been struggling with keeping it to himself, especially as the two of you had been hanging out more on your own. There were so many moments where he just wanted to be closer to you, move all these papers aside and just kiss you right then and there.

His eyes were fixated on his laptop as he swallowed hard, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal. “Uhm… Yeah. I am…” He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands busy so his nerves wouldn’t show as much. “Just… Never got around to it.” He chuckled nervously.

You closed your laptop, realizing you’d made the poor boy uncomfortable with your sudden interest in his sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be ashamed about, there’s no, like, expiration date on when you have to fuck someone…” You tried to make him feel a bit better.

Ethan nodded awkwardly, genuinely wishing this couch would just swallow him whole so he could disappear. The girl he liked knew he was a virgin loser with no game, there was no way you were ever going to want him now.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Ethan wondering if it was too late to jump out a window and forget this ever happened. You, however, had a different turn of events in mind.

“Do you want me to help with that?”

Those words made Ethan look up from his laptop and his eyes widen. If your previous question was a pitch, this one was a home run. He wasn’t even completely sure if you actually asked that or if he imagined it, until he met your gaze. But he wanted to be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “W-What?”

You shuffled a little closer, legs touching his, putting a hand on his thigh and leaning in slightly. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Ethan can feel blood rush to his cock from the question alone, his gaze darting from your lips back up to your eyes. If this was a dream, it was definitely the best one he’s had so far.

“Yes.”

Your lips meet his only a second after his reply, the book on his lap falling to the floor as you both lean in at the same time. You could tell he was nervous, but that didn’t stop him from trying. You tilted your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue across his bottom lip, an action that elicited a slight whimper from him.

His arms snaked around your waist and you raised yourself up onto his lap. A hand soon found its place in his curls, tugging gently to tilt his head back as your lips traveled down to his jaw, then to his neck, peppering gentle kisses and love bites on the way.

“S-Shit…” He spoke between hot breaths, one of his hands now resting on the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing slightly whenever your teeth would bite down on his sensitive skin.

You giggle softly at how sensitive he was, lips sucking a darker mark on the spot below his ear. His hips were shifting beneath you, and even through multiple layers of clothing, you could tell he was getting harder by the second. You pulled back, hands coming up to cup his pretty face. He was already panting a bit, cheeks tinged pink from all this newfound excitement. “You look so pretty...” You press another soft kiss to his lips. “This okay?”

Ethan looks up at you with an almost desperate look in those doe eyes of his, nodding at your question. As much as you wanted to fuck him right then and there, Ethan deserved to be taken care of a little, especially since this was his first time experiencing most of this.

“Good, good...” Your thumb rubs gently across the soft skin of his cheek. “Wanna... Take this to the bedroom?”

“Please.” He breathes out against your lips.

The walk, or almost run to his bedroom, was a blur in your mind. You wasted no time, quickly getting inside and locking the door behind you both. Ethan was eager now that this was finally feeling real, hands swiftly finding your hips again and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“Hmm... Someone’s excited...” You mumbled in between kisses, stumbling backwards onto the bed until your back hit the mattress. Ethan held himself above you, brown curls perfectly framing his face as he admired how beautiful you looked on his bed.

He kissed you again, tongues playing with one another as his confidence was spurred on by his pure exhilaration. “Been... Wanting to do this forever...” He spoke against your lips as your hands searched for the hem of his shirt. “With you...” He pulled his shirt off in a hurry, diving back to meet your neck, pressing feverish kisses to your skin.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip, hand coming up to further push him into the crook where your shoulder and neck met. You let out a soft mewl when he bit down, wondering if he’d imagined this before. One of your hands moved over his chest, nails raking over the skin and undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake. They travelled over his abs, down to his crotch, palming slightly, which earned a delicious groan from him.

You tilt your head to kiss the side of his head and get his attention to meet your gaze. His eyes find yours, half lidded, pupils blown out like he was high off the moment. “Me too.” You say, and you could swear it activated something in him when you did.

His hands start roaming under your shirt, and you take that as your cue to take yours off too. He stops for a moment, purely to admire the newly exposed parts of your body. Sure, he’d snuck glances at your chest when you wore tighter shirts, or when the collar would dip down just enough to give him a peek. But he only imagined touching your tits, how soft they were, how well you’d react to his hands.

His hand reached out and he gently cupped your breast, still a little careful. “So soft...” He mumbled to himself, his thumb slowly rolling over your nipple, almost teasingly so. You whined softly, arching your back a little into his touch. His other hand joined in and he squeezed them a bit, seemingly entranced by just how soft and pleasant they felt. Like they were made to be held by him.

He leaned down to your chest and looked up at you with puppy eyes. He could ask you to rob a bank with those eyes, and you’d do it. You just hoped he didn’t realize how you weak you were to that look.

“Can I?” He licked his lips.

“Y-Yeah, Ethan, anything...” You rubbed your thighs together. You knew he was just taking things slow, for both of your sakes, but god it felt like he was teasing you so badly.

He licked your nipple, a little hesitant, but he took the hand in his hair as a sign that he could continue. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled softly, closing his eyes as his fingers played around with your other nipple. You swore he was getting off on just sucking and touching your tits, noticing slight movements of his hips grinding into the bed.

He let go with an audible ‘pop’, earning a delicious whimper from you.

“E-Ethan...” You whined, catching your bottom lip under your teeth.

“Yeah...?” He hoped he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Touch me...” You spread your thighs a little more. “Please?”

“O-Oh, right... Sorry, I just... Got a little caught up in the moment.” He chuckled nervously and you did the same. You were glad there was still an air of lightness surrounding the whole ordeal. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel judged or uncomfortable.

He moved back a little between your thighs, hands exploring the soft skin of your legs with a pleased hum. He’d dreamt about moments like these so many times, ever since you became part of the friend group, he just couldn’t stop imagining what it was like. What you’d feel like, what you’d sound like... He was still processing a little that it was all actually happening.

His hand hesitatingly moved over your inner thigh, bringing a finger to gently trace over the fabric of your panties. His eyes widened a little at what he felt; you were soaked. He felt a little more confident in knowing he did that to you, but also a little shocked. “You’re... So wet...”

You brought up your hands to cover your face. You were, yes, but the way he was saying it made you all the more conscious about the effects he was having on your body. “Ethan... That’s-- You can’t...”

He grinned slightly at your reaction. He never knew you could get shy like this, you were usually such an open person. “Alright, let me just...” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. He bit his lip when he discovered the hot wetness there, gently running over your slicked folds. “Is this okay?” he looked up at you.

“Mhm...” You nodded, your thighs twitching slightly when his finger grazed over your clit. “F-Fuck, yes... There, keep... Keep doing that.” You felt a little guilty for a second, remembering this was supposed to be about him. But you were doing him a favor, really, he was bound to have to find out how to touch a girl sooner or later.

His middle finger ran gentle and slow circles over your clit as his other hand kept busy running up and down your thigh. He stopped for a moment, hooking his finger around the elastic of your panties, looking at you for approval to take them off. You said something along the lines of “go ahead” between your whimpers, so he gently removed them from your body.

Again, he was taken aback by how beautiful you were, pussy glistening with juices. “God...” His thumb ran over your clit and you shivered slightly, having missed his touch, even if it was just for a few moments.

An idea sprung alive in his head, something he’d thought about many times before. “Hey, uhm... Can I...” He seemed nervous about proposing it.

“Hm? What is it Ethan?” You propped yourself up slightly onto your elbows, looking at him.

“Can I go down on you?” He paused for a moment, swallowing. “I, uh... I’ve always wanted to try that.”

You smiled at his request. Usually, the first thing guys would want is for a girl to go down on them, but you supposed Ethan wanted to explore all the options a little first. And maybe he wanted this to last longer than he would with your mouth on him. “Y-Yeah, sure...”

He smiled back, arms now on both sides of your thighs as he leaned his head down closer to your aching core. His hot breath hit your pussy, and you resisted the urge to just pull him closer. Instead, you ran your fingers over his scalp with an encouraging nudge. He stuck out his tongue, running it flat over the entirety of your wetness, humming at the taste.

You squirmed when he reached your clit, and his hands came up to settle on your thighs. He flicked his tongue and you moaned, almost obscenely, at the action. “F-Fuck!” He did it again, and your thighs started clamping down on him. “Jesus, Ethan...” He brought his lips down onto the needy bundle of nerves and suckled gently. Your head threw back as his tongue sent waves of warm tingles through your entire body.

“A-Are you sure this is your first time?” You spoke breathily through your moans and it only spurred him on further. He looked up at you with those all too familiar puppy eyes, tongue eagerly lapping at your juices. He moaned into your cunt, rutting into the bed slightly, fuck it felt good to please you.

You felt a familiar knot start to form in your stomach, hips moving against Ethan’s face as you mumbled his name over your whimpers. He sucked down on your clit again and that sent you over the edge, hand gripping his curls as you became undone beneath him. You rode it out on his face a bit before you relaxed back onto the mattress, thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Holy shit... Ethan...”

He slowly got up, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I hope I did alright.” He smiled, gently stroking your leg.

“Are you kidding me?” you spoke up after finally catching your breath. “You did so well baby.” You propped yourself up and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. Your hands went to his pants in the meantime, working on undoing his belt. “If you’d just… Help me out with those…” You smiled against his lips. “I could return the favor.”

He wasted no time in taking off his pants, kicking them off the bed until he was left in just his boxers. He kneeled on the mattress, his hard-on straining against the fabric of his underwear. You leaned forward onto your elbows, and he swore just the sight of you like that would have finished him off.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his bulge through the fabric, and you noticed a twitch from his cock in return. “Been wanting to know what you taste like for months…” You mumbled, hooking your fingers over the waistband of his underwear to free his throbbing cock. The tip was already dripping with pre-cum, proof of just how worked up he got from eating you out earlier.

“Just relax, ‘kay?” You looked up at him and offered a sultry smile, to which he nodded. You reached out and with a gentle grip, pumped his length a few times. He bit his lip, suppressing a groan. God your hand felt so much better than his…

You leaned in and licked across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum on your tongue and savoring it. “Such a pretty cock too…” You licked up the length of him and he hissed through his teeth, hand landing gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, not pulling, just wanting to touch you.

He whined out your name when you suckled on the tip, looking down at you with desperate and needy eyes. “Fuck… T-That feels… So fucking good oh my god…” His hand moves over to your jaw, so you’re looking up at him now, and the eye contact doesn’t break, not even once.

His breathing picks up when you start to bob your head, but he stops you before you go deeper, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit, sorry, was that too far?” You look at him with a worried expression.

“No, no, not at all, it’s just… I wanna last longer.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and you felt a sense of pride of almost making him cum just from giving him head for a bit.

“That’s okay,” You got up to your knees and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m starting to get impatient anyways,” His breath hitched when you traced your fingers over his length again. “Need you inside me…”

You gave him a slight push so he sat down on the bed as you leaned over to grab a condom from the pocket of your discarded shorts. You rolled it over his cock, a snug fit, as expected, and your eyes went back to his face. He watched your pussy hover over his length, mentally preparing himself. If you going down on him felt that incredible, then this was about to be an out of body experience.

You put one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, and reached one hand under to run his tip between your folds, lubing him up with your juices. “You ready?”

He nodded, hands coming up to gently rest on your hips. With that, you sank down onto his cock, slowly but steadily taking him inch by inch. Both of you moaned in unison at the joining of your bodies, neither of you imagining it would feel quite like this. You, surprised by the stretch he gave your cunt, him, surprised by your warmth and tightness.

“Fuck…” You sighed out, before you fully took his length, skin meeting skin with an audible clap. “So... Deep...” You put both of your hands on his chest, leaning forward a little. “Feels good, huh? You fit inside me so perfectly...”

“Shit...” He squeezes your hips harder, not enough to bruise, at least not yet. “So tight...” Ethan moves his hips up a little and you moan at the movement, the head of his cock grazing a very special spot inside you.

“F-Fuck, Ethan, hold on... J-Just...” You raised your hips, almost pulling him out completely.

“Let me...” You lowered again, ass meeting his hips. “Take care of you...” You started to establish a steady rhythm, Ethan watching your body move in complete fascination. You were gorgeous, tits bouncing, making the prettiest noises. Any guy would kill to have you on him like that, and he was no exception.

Your thighs started burning a little after a while, and he could tell as your movements got less intense. But you felt so good, every single change in motion sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his cock twitching whenever you would moan out his name.

He decided to keep chasing this high and take the reigns, putting a hand on your lower back and getting up, laying you down on the mattress as he pulled out.

“E-Ethan! What are you-- o-oh my god--” Your sentence got cut off by him sliding back inside you, his arms resting besides your body. You didn’t expect this more... Initiative-taking side of him, but it was welcome either way. You hooked your legs around his hips to pull him in closer, arms resting over his shoulders.

He quickly began thrusting, hips snapping forward, the room filled with the almost pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. He looked at you, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth slightly agape. You pulled him in by his shoulders to capture his lips, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace.

“Fuck... ‘M close... So close...” He spoke through heavy pants, head now buried into your neck.

“Me too baby, me too, holy shit don’t stop... D-Don’t stop!” You felt the hot coil in your stomach get to a breaking point, the bed rocking slightly with Ethan’s movements as you started repeating his name between your moans.

Ethan’s hips pushed into you one last time, cock twitching as he came, filling the condom nearly to its brim. He groaned your name into your neck, breath hot against your love bite covered skin.

You followed right after, legs clamping down on him, your pussy clenching onto his cock and milking every last drop out of him. Your thighs trembled as you panted, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm with a few last sloppy thrusts.

His body collapsed on top of you, the weight almost comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head. He moved his head to kiss you lazily, and you chuckled at how adorable he was being. He pressed a few kisses to your lips, eyes fluttering open soon after.

“Thank you...” He smiled sleepily, still coming down from the amazing high he’d experienced just then. “That was... Amazing...”

“Could say the same to you...” You smiled back, basking in the sweet after sex euphoria while you could. You whined slightly when he finally pulled out, suddenly feeling a bit empty.

Ethan disposed of the condom while you went to his bathroom to pee really quick. He sat back down on the bed and looked at his phone, seeing multiple messages from his roommate.

[chadmeister]: jesus christ

[chadmeister]: are u guys almost done

[chadmeister]: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes now you know

[chadmeister]: pretty sure the entire floor heard u two

[chadmeister]: at least u def won’t die a virgin now MY MANNN

tag list <3

@kometqh

#aster writes scream #ethanmath #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry writing #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fic #ethan landry fan fic #scream 2023 #scream VI #scream 6 #scream 6 fic #ethan landry scream 6 #ethan landry scream #ethan kirsch

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turtletaubwrites · 4 months

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Turtletaub Fic Recs ~ Part 1

This is but a small sample of the incredible One Piece fics, headcanons, and drabbles that I've read on this lovely site, so I will be adding many more lists going forward! Please enjoy, and spread the love to these writers that have given me all sorts of feels 🥰 I've dug through my list, so some of these are recent, and some are from a while ago, but they all deserve a read. Enjoy! | Other Fic Rec Lists ~ | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Ace

Starvation by @wallachianblood ~ ANGST!! Only read this one if you want to hurt inside. Which is why I highly recommend! It tackles grief in such an interesting and uncomfortable way, and it's been stuck in my brain. (Please check the warnings, there's intense grief, angst, discussion death and of cannibalism in reference to romantic love and pain.)

Benn Beckman

When You Had The Chance by @fanaticsnail ~ The longing! The yearning! The "oof, why is this old man so hot?!" 🥵 Beautifully written as always, and now I have ANOTHER One Piece crush 😅

Buggy

@hey-august keeps giving us delicious lil Buggy bits that I can't get enough of! Have a taste: Breakfast, Whimpers

A Favor for the Captain ~ MORE Buggy from @hey-august that is just so stinkin' cute + hot! This two part fic is so well written, and I just adore when pathetic Buggy gets the love! 🤡💜

Corazon

A Reward From Cora by @leakyweep ~ STILL thinking about this. Short but sweet, and my Corazon, my heart, is now occupying my brain in a very different way. I would appreciate some more quiet time please 🥰

Eustass Kid

Kid by @kaizokuniichan ~ Hi, yes, this is so good! This is the fic that finally flipped me over into Kid territory. Now I'm scrambling, trying to figure out how to deal with a crush on this dumbass 🤦🏼‍♀️

Jinbe

Guiding Star by @discordantwritings ~ I didn't know I needed this, but I definitely did. Holy fuck, that fish man is sweet and 🥵🥵 Need me some more of this!

Mihawk

Little Game by @gingernut1314 ~ This is STUNNING. I'm late to the game, so I'm flipping stoked that I have more to read! The first chapter already killed me with how beautifully it's written, how rich the world/story is, and how interesting and lovely both Mihawk and the reader are!

Sanji

3, 2, 1 by @fanaticsnail ~ Ooh, this Sanji fic messed me up in the best way! I absolutely adored the flirty build up, the tension, the angst, and the lovely, smutty finale. Seriously, one of my fave Sanji fics, and you should give it a read!

Baby, It's Hot out Here by @lowkeycasanova ~ I LOVE perverted Sanji so much! Here's another short but sweet fic that carved a smutty little spot into my head. I bet Sanji would learn to make the tastiest popsicles just to enjoy the show 😏

I Can Teach You If You'd Like by @vinsmokc-sanji ~ Yeah, this is cute as fuck. Reminded me of working at restaurants, and having a crush on peeps that had no business being as hot as they were. SFW, and super cute, check it out!

Trafalgar Law (Can you tell I've been on a Law kick for a while?)

Pain Management by @thus-spoke-lo ~ I'm sorry, this fic still keeps me up at night. It has rooted itself into my skull, and I don't think it will ever leave. HIGHLY recommend. (Please check content warnings! This fic contains dubcon elements.)

Beset Fixation by @eelnoise ~ Yeah, Law with the feelings fucks me UP. This is so good, sexy, and emotional. 10/10

Therapist Law by @sanjisjuul ~ Um, hello?! This one has also stuck to my brain, and made me even more concerned for my mental health than I already was. Oh well 🤷🏼‍♀️ It's hot as fuck, highly recommend!

A New Routine, A New Man by @willowhaze26 ~ This is so satisfying, and so hot 🥵 One of the first Law fics I found, and I am grateful for this delightful work 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Hearts and Marks by @escenariosinfumables ~ This is one of the cutest fucking things I've ever read, and I need it to be canon.

Zoro

Rough by @kibblz-n-bitz ~ This is short, but filthy! Dirty talkin, dom Zoro is oh so 🥵

Ways That Zoro Wordlessly Says "I Love You" by @nina-ya ~ Such cute Zoro fluff, I adore him 😭💚 He's just a big sweetie!

#fic rec list #fic recs #turtletaub fic recs #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece smut #smut #trafalgar law smut #sanji x reader #fic masterlist #buggy smut #fem!reader #reader insert #one piece fics #mihawk x reader #jinbe x reader #zoro smut

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lovebugism · 1 year

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i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever.

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems.

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore.

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you.

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough. You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against.

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles).

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into.

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary.

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you.

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her.

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips.

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means.

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you.

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds.

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about.

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right.

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week.

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now.

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie.

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you.

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call.

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.”

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting.

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer.

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way.

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye.

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm.

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing.

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college.

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs.

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be.

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching.

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully.

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease.

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago.

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need.

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret.

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure.

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?”

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading — and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly.

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious.

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for.

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry.

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you.

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him.

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him.

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so.

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes.

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you.

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it.

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all.

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?”

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats.

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling.

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day.

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down.

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone.

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him.

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold.

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler.

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock.

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.”

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time. “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are.

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were.

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?”

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so.

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.”

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost.

But it’s happened before.

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight.

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise.

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak.

You want him.

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie munson

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holybibly · 3 months

Note

okay hear me out!! little bunny goes to take a shower ok? one of the pups wants to go with her. she would be more skeptical if it was san or mingi or woo, but its just yeosang. he wouldn't try to play with her, right?

wrong! like you said with other senders, yeo is secretly a hard dom. sorry not sorry yall!

so yeah, he pins her to the wall and stims her clit with the showerhead (at the highest pressure, of course) until she cries and stuffs. have fun with that part my brain is #mush

bye bye love ya 💋🎀

Hard dom Yeosang, mmm...

I told you I'm in love with this concept, didn't I? I hope this makes you as dishevelled and nervous as I am when I think about it. Sorry, not sorry; today I want to make you squirm.

"Enjoying yourself, bunny?" Yeosang purrs in a low voice and pulls you closer to him until you're pressed up against his bare chest. It's hot in the shower, but Yeosang's skin seems to be on fire, burning you and making you melt away.

"I-I, yes, a little; it's nice here." You mumble as you feel his lips press against your shoulder and slide up until they leave a kiss on the crimson imprint of Seonghwa's and Hongjoong's teeth, which are still unable to heal from the constant torment of two alphas. If Seonghwa's gorgeous mouth doesn't suck on that sensitive spot at least once a day, the Alpha will go into hysterics, and as far as Hongjoong is concerned, it's a hundred times worse. His lips are on your neck 24/7, and there is no discussion about it. Yeosang can hardly wait for the day he can sink his fangs into you, too; he licks the sore spot lightly. His hands slide down your sides and come to rest on your hips, his thumbs slowly and emphatically massaging the soft skin.

The black-haired Alpha turns you around to face him, his icy grey eyes piercing you in an instant, holding you in place and making you submit to him. Yeosang is usually quiet, a little distant, and taciturn, but that's not like that when he's alone with you. Like all wolves, Yeosang has a dark, animalistic side to him, and he will never miss an opportunity to show it off to you.

Despite how warm and stuffy it is in the shower, you start to shiver as he leans down to brush his tongue across your lips. There is a low growl from him, and you obey instantly, opening your lips to him.

Cautiously, greedily, he traces the contours of your mouth as if it were uncharted territory, and every lazy move he makes makes you press closer to him, your hands clinging tentatively to his shoulders. It's only when the need for air becomes critical and you start falling apart, your chest heaving rapidly, that you begin to whimper. You try to press yourself closer to his sculpted body. The mucus leaking from you makes your pussy slippery and wet.

"Alpha, please..." You gasp, your heart pounding erratically in your chest.

He gives you a wicked smile and bites your lower lip, making you squeal at the sharp sting of his fangs. His hands slide down to the luxurious curve of your ass, squeezing it hard as he begins to plant rough kisses along the side of your jaw, working their way down to the pillar of your throat. Your head falls back against the tiled wall as he bites down hard on a particularly sensitive spot close to your collarbone, and a moment later his tongue darts out to lick the small drops of blood from the bruised skin. The sensation makes you moan loudly and for a long time, and Yeosang purrs contentedly.

Then he moves lower down to your heavy, luscious breasts, his hot mouth curling around the hard tip of one of your nipples as his hand slides up your belly until his fingers curl around the other. Your back arched under his caresses, your fingers scratching along his back. The low, dark chuckle emanating from his chest sent a delicious shiver down your spine. Oh, my God, Alpha...

The fact that the wolves are addicted to your milk and constantly abuse your breasts is something you still can't get used to. They are always biting, sucking, licking, and drinking, and they still cannot get enough. Your tits have become even more sensitive than they were before, under the constant care of the wolves. It doesn't even have to be anything sexual; all they have to do is keep your nipples in their mouths.

Wooyoung and San recently cornered you just to torment you all night long by sucking on your tits and playing with your nipples. It was a maddening experience. You came so many times you couldn't even count, and they didn't even fuck you properly.

You whimper at the loss of contact and watch the corner of his mouth curl into a grin as Yeosang's mouth pulls away from your chest. Tiny drops of milk glisten on his wet, red lips, and he immediately licks them off, humming in appreciation of the taste.

"Turn your back to me, bunny." He orders in a low voice, and the dark promise in his tone of voice makes you obey with all your might.

The anticipation of what he will do next is simply unbearable. It literally drives you crazy, making you tremble and cower, never knowing what path he will take.

Yeosang stands behind you, silent and motionless, and you dare not look at him, instead staring at the black tiled wall, watching the water trickle down. You can taste Yeosang—leather and powder—in the steam that comes out of the water.

You vaguely hear him fiddling with something. Your ears twitch, hoping to recognise the sound, but the sound of running water makes it difficult. Your thighs rub against each other in an attempt to relieve the aching tension between your legs.

"Alpha, I… Oh!" Your voice changes to a surprised squeal as he suddenly pushes something between your legs—something that you recognise as a silver shower head. The metal in it makes a delightfully cool contrast to the warmth of the water and the heat of your skin.

As Yeosang presses the shower head against your clit, your knees almost buckle and your pussy squirts mucus with an even smoother, more powerful squirt. Only his strong arm, wrapped around your waist, keeps you on your feet, pressing your back against his chest as his teeth nibble gently at the lobe of your ear.

"It's time for a new experience, baby. I promise you're going to feel good."

It is hard for you to think straight. The water is massaging your clit in slippery circles, splashing and spraying over your thighs as they shake with the tension. It takes all your strength and concentration to force yourself to answer, your voice high and shrill.

"Oh, my God. Ewww, Alpha! It's so good."

His answering chuckle, husky and sultry, sends a bolt of lightning straight to the heart of your body.

"Look at you, all wet and beautiful and desperate for me." His hips are pressing up against your ass, and you can feel how hard his cock is and how ready it is for you. It's thick, veiny, and long, perfect for fucking your tender little bunny body.

You let out a whimper as he moved the nozzle, and now the stream of water is right on top of your clit, intense and merciless. It is at this point that you start to breathe out his name, your chest heaving in a desperate attempt to get more air into your lungs. The pressure is too much, too much for you, who've never done this before. You feel like you're teetering dangerously close to the edge, the coil in your stomach wound as tight as it can be without breaking. You are so, so close to cum.

And then Yeosang pulls away, the shower head disappearing between your trembling thighs and taking your orgasm with it. The pleasure that was about to wash over you in a wave of ecstasy is painfully slow to return to your veins. You're practically crying at the loss of this sensation. Tears well up in your eyes, but you know there's nothing you can do about it. If they want to play rough with you, they will drag out the pleasure for hours on end. One time, Seonghwa didn't let you cum all night long until you passed out from the overstimulation.

Yeosang loosens his grip on your waist and gives you a kiss between your shoulder blades. His hand slides up your belly, thumb-stroking your swollen nipples, wet with water and milk, and continues until his long fingers wrap around your throat.

Yeosang's hand tightens around your neck, effectively blocking your airway; your eyes roll back; and your legs shake from the overload of sensations.

"How's that, sweetie? Does your Sangie make you feel good? Tell me, sweetheart, do mommy and daddy play with you like I do?" His voice is dark and hoarse, and there is a hint of arrogance in it that you can hear. He wraps the fingers of his other hand around your sensitive nipple and twists it. You have the urge to squeal, but the grip on your throat prevents any sound from escaping.

His soft lips leave the softest kisses on your shoulders in contrast to the rough touches of your body and the suffocating grip on your throat. The tenderness with which he kisses and honours your skin is almost enough to lull you to sleep, make your head fall back on his chest, and let you lose yourself in your little subspace of desire.

You don't immediately realise what's happening when the sound of running water suddenly gets louder. It's only when his claws start to slide down your spine, scratching at every ridge before they grasp your thigh roughly, that you realise what he's up to. A moment later, the water is hitting you; the shower head is pressing down on your legs, enveloping your already sensitive clit in a swirling whirlpool of heat and moisture. You wheeze, gasping for breath, and Yeosang moans long, excited and thirsty from what you've done.

"Damn, you're so hot, bunny." He moans and presses his mouth close to your ear. "I'm never going to get tired of playing with you; I'm going to torture you and fuck you every fucking day."

As he pushes the nozzle deeper into your pussy you writhe in his arms, your whole body shaking. He suddenly lets go of your throat, only to wrap his hand around your waist and pull you closer to him, his thick cock sliding between the cheeks of your plump ass.

His lips curl up in a wicked smile against the back of your neck.

It's almost frightening how dishevelled you are. The heat coils in your abdomen, dark and intense, yearning for release.

"P-please, please, Yeosang..." You whimper almost incoherently, squirming in his iron grip in a desperate attempt to increase the friction.

Yeosang laughs maliciously at your futile attempts.

"I need a little bit more from you, baby." His voice gets deeper and deeper, sounding almost animalistic and incredibly seductive. He pushes his hips into your ass, the hot length sliding perfectly between your buttocks, staining the space with a mixture of your mucus and his pre-cum. The base of his knot can already be felt, and you know what it is that he wants to hear from you.

"I want your alpha knot; I want you to tie me; I want you to make me your bitch." The words come out of you in the most natural way possible, as if this is what you were born to do. You have repeated them so many times that it is as if they have been imprinted on your tongue.

As the knot in your stomach tightens as your orgasm builds, desperation seeps into your tone.

"Alpha, please, I am going to be the best bunny for you. I want your knot so badly."

"Then you can cum, my little bunny. Show me what a good girl you are." Yeosang growls as the hand on your waist slides up and begins to knead your breasts roughly. Your tits are so swollen with milk that they can barely fit in the palm of his hand. The added sensation sends you over the edge with a deafening scream, your cunt clenching around nothing as you squirm weakly in his firm grip, feeling completely boneless.

It takes a few long seconds for the rush of pleasure to wear off. Yeosang gently strokes between your velour ears and plants hot kisses on your neck and shoulders as you come to your senses.

"The Alpha wants to tear you apart and breed you such a beautiful and obedient bunny. You are all mine, so juicy and sweet. Do you think you can take my knot right now, baby?"

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader #yeosang smut #ateez fanfic #kang yeosang smut

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willowrites · 2 months

Text

REQUEST. can you do one for either sam or colby with a reader who’s a medium?

COLLABORATION

PAIRINGS. sam x medium fem!reader

SUMMARY. sam and colby have watched a few of your videos and have been following you on instagram for quite some time. sam in particular has grown an interest in you and wanted to shoot his shot but didn’t know how. given your ability to have one foot in the afterlife and another on earth they’ve invited you to tag along for an investigation …

WARNINGS. nothing! friends to lovers, cute fluffy stuff, a little bit of kissing…

AUTHORS NOTE. i loved doing this because i’ve always dreamt of having the capabilities that mediums do !! hope u enjoyyy

WORD COUNT. 2.7k

you hadn’t always known you had the ability to see and talk to people who have passed on.

you thought it was normal.

you had many imaginary friends who weren’t always imaginary. you had conversations with people who your parents couldn’t see.

there were many occurrences in which you’d see apparitions for one second and then in another, they’re gone.

it was at the age of 11 when you realized that what and who you’d see and talk to were people and things that others couldn’t see or talk to.

you started researching and asking the internet.

are ghosts real?

can i see and talk to ghosts?

what are people who can see and talk to ghosts called?

confirmation of you possibly being a medium struck your brain. you continued doing research since then and now at the age of 24, you’re categorized as a medium who can talk to people who have passed and communicate with them as well as see them.

you set up an instagram and made sure that information was somewhere on there.

@/visuallyy/n

bio: spirits are my best friends

after you create an instagram and put that information in there. you tried to do some investigations of your own.

your first at your own house. you caught some good activity but none people would believe. so after that, you started collaborating with other people whether it was other mediums, psychics, ghost hunters, paranormal investigators, etc.

you enjoyed working with other people and getting to know more about the afterlife and spiritual world so when you got a message from sam golbach you were more than ecstatic.

@/samgolbach

hey y/n, it’s sam from the sam and colby youtube channel. i just wanted to reach out to ask if you were ever up for a collaboration of some sort. we could go check out a haunted location and i think we’d have a lot of fun. i’ve seen some of your videos with other channels and you’re really special we’d love to have you on the channel

let me know!

holy shit.

the sam golbach. from sam and colby.

sam was someone you had admired for a long time. you first noticed him on vine and he was super funny. you’d watch both his and colby’s vines daily. when they started doing paranormal and exploration videos, you became a loyal watcher.

to @/samgolbach

hi sam! omg, i cannot believe i am reading this message right now! i would love to tag along with you guys on one of your investigations. i’ve watched all of your videos and you guys are truly something.

like i said it would be an honor just let me know where and when! 💗 much love

as you sent the message you were jumping up and down and kicking your feet back and forth.

a few days had passed and you were beginning to think they changed their minds. you started losing hope but didn’t let that bring your mood down.

as you were making yourself an afternoon snack you heard your phone ding.

Notification: Instagram

@/samgolbach

sorry for the late response we have been brainstorming a few ideas for our next videos…

you were so quick to click on the notification.

@/samgolbach:

sorry for the late response we have been brainstorming a few ideas for our next videos but that is great news. is it possible for us to video chat later on so we can discuss some ideas? we just want to make sure everything is okay with you.

video chat? you thought that was insane.

you’d be video chatting with sam and colby.

oh, my fucking go-

@/samgolbach:

it would also be great to see your face as we discuss plans 😆

as soon as you saw that second message you felt like collapsing.

he wanted to see your face? okay, maybe you were overreacting…

you were trying to think of what to respond with. when would you look your best? you thought.

your thinking sparked you to get ready just for the video call and you sent a message back.

to @/samgolbach:

i’ll be free by 4! definitely looking forward to it :)

he liked your message and then agreed that 4:30 would be a perfect time.

you didn’t do much to your hair or face. all you did was tame your hair like how you usually would and put on your usual makeup.

you were waiting for the time to hit 4:30. you were nervous but so very excited.

as the clock was 4:25 you got an email

from @/[email protected]

www.zoomlink

no harm in seeing you early! he sent along with the link.

your heart felt like it was going to beat out of its chest.

you opened the link which directed you straight to the meeting.

you then turned your camera on and the mic off. sam and colby were already there on camera just talking to each other without the mic.

then once it made a sound that you had entered they paused and you earned an exciting smile from sam.

“y/n!” sam’s voice played through your computer speaker. “so glad to see you made it!”

“hi y/n! i’m colby!” colby sent a smile your way and waved to the camera.

“hi, nice to meet you guys!” you blushed extremely hard.

“how is your day going so far?” sam asked running a hand through his hair.

“it’s uh…well honestly it’s going great. i was a little bit nervous to meet with you guys if i’m being honest,” you replied moving your hair to the back of your neck so that it wasn't in your face.

"what? that's insane, colby and i were nervous you wouldn't be up for a collaboration!" he continued to make conversation.

"what no! im thrilled, i always watched you guys since vine and then i watched even more when you guys started doing urbanex and haunted places! you guys started doing that as i was starting to become more familiar with my capabilities." you explained. "and then when you reached out to me, my heart was beating out of my chest. it was kind of like a dream turned into reality.

"wow, that's actually super cool that you've been watching us since that long ago." colby mentioned. "we've had an eye on you since you collaborated with seth and josh!"

"yeah ever since then we've always wanted to reach out to you." sam then added giving you a soft smile. gosh, his smile was so cute.

"thats so good to hear!" you giggled.

you giggled.

"well, why don't we start chatting about where we could explore..." colby proposed. you and sam nodded, both having the rosiest cheeks.

you and sam have exchanged several messages since your zoom call. some professional and about the collaboration, and some about your personal lives.

from @/samgolbach

can i get your number? you know for professional ghosthunting biz...

to @/samgolbach

yeah sure! for professional ghosthunting biz... :)

(xxx) xxx-xxxx sent you a message

hi its sam

to (xxx) xxx-xxxx

hi sam its y/n

from sam

hmm, glad you didn't give me a fake number

to sam

why would i give you a fake number

from sam

because maybe ur too scared to collab with us? hmm, are you?

to sam

no no, i find this kind of stuff exciting. i love learning more about the afterlife and spirits and all that other stuff.

from sam

same! honestly, its super exciting. although if I get too excited I do dumb shit...

to sam

like what? get demons stuck in your ass?

from sam

ha. ha. ha. not funny...

to sam

sorry! although i think sallie found it funny.

from sam

yeah i think she definitely enjoyed it

you couldn't help the grin that made its way onto your face.

these harmless conversations kept going on ever since you had exchanged numbers. you guys talked every day even after your collaboration was done.

he made you so much happier than you were before. you became very close friends with colby as well. them two stepping into your life brought you many other close friends that you could call family.

yours and sams conversation would go from your personal life, to favorite shows, to where you've traveled, and now to past relationships.

sam told you about his and surprisingly went into depth with it which you honestly felt happy about because that meant he trusted you.

after he was done you felt it was only right for you to share that you had only one serious relationship before and it ended pretty rough, even though you had closure, the relationship taught you a lot and not in a good way.

he responded like a gentleman saying he was surprised that no one swept a beautiful girl like you off their feet.

that comment made you blush. you blushed so much you might as well have been kicking your feet back and forth.

your response was a simple thank you because you didn't know how to flirt or move forward and frankly, you were scared.

after that, you started to form a different kind of liking toward sam. you were always looking forward to his text messages and when he didn't text back you were constantly checking your phone to see if by any chance he had.

then one day he invited you over to watch a movie; specifically the exorcist. you were super excited but a little bit nervous. you were in charge of bringing drinks while the others had another responsibility.

as you were done getting dressed you got a text from sam. you looked at it and did a double-take.

from sam 💕

hurry and get your pretty self over here!

your heart took a leap. he was constantly taking every opportunity to compliment you which is something you’re not used to.

to sam 💕

i’m going im going! i’m so excited :)

from sam 💕

i’m excited to see you

again, your body had a reaction to the text.

you hurried and packed up all the drinks in your car before starting it and heading over towards his house; well his and colby’s house.

as you were parking you noticed more cars than you thought would be parked. you started to become nervous.

how big was this watch party? who will be there? will you be the outsider?

from sam 💕

i’ll open the gate for you so you can park in the driveway

you felt relief as you turned around to pass the house once more so that you could drive inside. you saw the gate starting to open and made your way inside parking in the driveway next to another car that was there.

you shut the car off climbing out to see sam on the porch.

“so glad you’re here!” he smiles. “it’s gonna be so fun. here let me help you.” he walked towards the door to the backseat opened it and took the cooler that you had brought and set it on the ground.

“thank you for the invite.” you smiled shyly.

you two made your way up to the front of the house and as you were about to open the door he was quick to leap in front of you taking the handle in his hand and opening it for you.

“what a gentleman!” you replied walking through.

“always for you,” he said causing your face to grow hot.

“yo y/n! glad you could make it!” colby shouted walking over to you and bringing you in for a hug.

“glad i could as well.” you nodded.

“come on over this way, sam can take the drinks in the kitchen.” he waved over for you to follow him.

you followed taking in your surroundings. this isn’t your first time at their house but you’re still starting to become familiar with the environment.

colby leads you into the den area where there are a few more people. you saw familiar faces mostly from youtube. like the sturniolo triplets, jake webber, tara yummy, johnnie guilbert, larry, and a girl you’ve seen on sam and colby’s videos once before.

“guys this is y/n! she was in one of our videos a while ago and we’ve become super close friends!” he introduced you earning a wave. “y/n, this is jake, tara, johnny, larry, chris, matt, nick, and amanda. amanda is also a fellow medium!”

your heart leaped. you’d been looking for more medium or psychic friends so you could get advice or any information.

“oh my gosh! you’re a medium! so nice to meet you i’m amanda the medium haha! it’s so good to meet you.” amanda brought you in for a hug.

“it’s a pleasure! i admire you, you’ve helped me come to terms with a lot of stuff and helped me explore more about my capabilities, so thank you so much!” you gushed.

“wow that’s so good to hear i’m flattered, thank you. we have so much to talk about.” you both sat down and started chatting.

when the movie started you were sitting next to amanda and sam. sam came to sit next to you as the movie was starting which had you extremely excited.

throughout the whole movie, you felt gentle brushes against your knee as sam would move closer which had you moving a little closer inch by inch.

when the movie came to an end the group went outside to have a quick little bonfire where you guys chatted once more.

then afterwards everyone left agreeing it was well past their bedtime fortunately leaving you and sam alone outside.

“y/n?” sam spoke up cutting the comfortable silence you two had while looking at the fire.

“yeah?” you answered.

“im really glad we’ve gotten close this past year.” he confessed.

you smiled, “i feel the same way…i definitely needed a friendship like this in my life. i don't have many close close friends like how you and i have become so close recently.”

his face held a sad smile. “im sorry about how your past relationship ended.”

“no reason to be sorry. id be sorry if i had still stayed but i know what i deserve and that's not it.” you smiled and tried to lift up the mood. “all this sad talk is gonna kill the mood!”

you jumped up and held out ur arm. “come on!”

he took your hand and smiled. you were about to let go when he held onto your hand and pulled you close to him connecting your lips in a passionate kiss.

the kiss took you by surprise so it took you a few seconds before you reciprocated the kiss.

he pushed forward getting impossibly closer to you holding on to your hips to steady you so you didn't fall from the force he out on you.

you had no choice but to hold onto the back of his neck to steady yourself as well.

a few more seconds of smooches before you both pulled away to get some air.

breathless, you had no idea what to say. you were speechless.

“ive been wanting to do that for the longest time.” sam said hands still on your hips.

“glad you finally did.” you said without thinking.

sam laughed and sighed in relief.

“sorry, i just meant..i just..i like …” you stuttered. your cheeks turning red. “fuck you know what never mind.” you hid your face in his shoulder.

“i like you y/n. i really like you.” he told you. his words bringing butterflies to your stomach.

you lifted your head up to meet his eyes. “that's what i was trying to say…” you said quietly.

“well i found your stuttering very cute.” he moved some of your hair from your shoulder.

“im glad you don't find it dumb and embarrassing.” you sheepishly say.

“i could never find you dumb or embarrassing.” he scrunches his nose up cutely. “maybe a little silly sometimes.”

“gee thanks.�� you roll your eyes playfully.

“mmm and sassy. but it's okay i can handle your attitude.” he pulls you by your waist closer. “can i kiss you one more time?”

“now that you find me sassy no no.” you playfully decline.

“mhmm…okay.” he pulls you in for a kiss and you let him.

#✮⋆˙ 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾 #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby smut #sam golbach #sam x reader #sam goldbach smut #sam goldbach imagine #sam golbach x reader #sam goldbach

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kmt123whatsthetea · 2 months

Text

I Get a Kick Out Of You

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

A sequel to Something Stupid

Requested by @saintlike05

A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long. But I'm finally here to write and continue with the Frank Sinatra title theme.

T/W: Make up sex, Unprotected sex, Double Penetration, Anal, Spitting, Food play?, Teensy bit of hair pulling

If you told this story to others, you'd get a different response.

Mrs Weasley said it was fate that you walked into the shop and back into her son's lives. Hermione jokingly played it off as your brain needing the comforting colour of orange that you lost when you broke up with the twins. But the twins themselves, they called it a miracle.

It was even more miraculous that you agreed to give it another go.

The twins had discussed it after you left. They realised how careless they had been and that you only left because of their actions. Your leaving was their consequence.

They had agreed to be better for your sake. The only people they would prank from now on would be their customers, their family members, and you from time to time.

It was George's idea to have a make up date, only to mask Fred’s idea of make up sex. They planned it all. A candlelit dinner with flowers, your favourite food, and a muggle CD of some guy called Frank Sinatra that Hermione had recommended (they had gone to her for advice on how to make the perfect date after Ginny had turned them away, claiming that it was gross to think of her brother's having sex).

After that, it was all set. The clock was counting down until your scheduled arrival. Even Fred was nervous, more so than he had been on the first date.

Your first date with the twins was one to remember. You had gotten many weird looks from the other Hogsmead patrons when you gave both boys a rather loving peck on the lips. Sometimes the twins worried that the love triangle would be the thing to end your relationship. What if you did want both of them? What if you wanted someone else? Or even worse…

…What if you wanted just one of the twins?

The twins were alike in every way possible. They each had that very thought but didn't realise that the other shared it. Of course they knew that you loved them both equally, but it was still a fear that remained.

When you knocked on the door, it took both men a good minute before they rushed to let you in. Their dopey smiles remained throughout the time you took your coat off to the time you sat at the small table in the twins kitchen. They treated you like a princess throughout the little ‘make-up date’. They waited on you and even cooked you your favourite dinner (which you’re certain tasted like Molly’s cooking, but you appreciated the thought)

When dinner was finished and George took your plates, Fred smirked your way.

“Maybe we could make dessert a little more…enjoyable?”

At first, you thought Fred was being his regular old self. That was until George came back carrying a bowl of strawberries and a can of whipped cream.

Fred took a hold of the whipped cream and brushed your hair aside beside squirting a small blob of the canned goodness onto your neck. His tongue followed suit, licking it all up until there was more saliva than cream on your neck. Both men knew which spots would make you keen and practically melt, which is why Fred paid extra special attention to those sweet spots.

The bowl of strawberries sat forgotten while your sensitive neck became the perfect pairing for the whipped cream. George took the can from his brother and repeated similar licks on the other side. Soon, your neck was coated in a thin veil of saliva and cream.

They had always said that you were sweeter than any dessert.

George picked you up in his arms, securing his hands on your thighs while Fred moved his hands to your hips, keeping you boxed between their chests. Your skirt was riding up, making their job even easier. Fred pulled your underwear to the side before bringing his hand to his mouth and spitting on his fingertips. He used his spit as lube, rubbing it from your clit and over your folds before massaging your tight hole. Fred leaned his face close to your ear.

“Can you take us both, love? I know how much of a little nympho you can be”

You had done anal before, but never both at once. During sex, you always used your mouth or your pussy. George guided your eyes back to him by a gentle finger on your chin.

“It's okay if you can't take it, baby. We just want to make you feel good”

Without hesitation, you nodded eagerly.

“I can take it”

Fred’s horny devil took over. He positioned his tip at the tight ring of muscle and slowly started pushing. Your grip on George's shoulders tightened, and he kept his firm yet gentle hold on your chin. He made sure that you focused on him while Fred bottomed out.

George gestured down and you knew that he was asking for help removing his cock from his trousers since both of his hands were holding you up by your thighs. You unzipped his trousers and pushed his boxers down, just enough to uncover the prize inside. You guided him to your folds as best you could, before he lowered you down. The stretch of both of their cocks inside of you made your chest feel tight, like your breath was robbed. Their cocks were literally breathtaking.

The twins took turns thrusting, making sure that you were stretched around one of them at all times. A symphony of moans and obscene squelches filled the air, followed by the lingering smell of sex. That coil in your stomach slowly got tighter and tighter. George could feel your walls squeezing his cock so he shot Fred a glance over your shoulder. Fred gently pulled your hair back to get your attention.

“Does our pretty baby wanna cum? Why don't you show us just how much you missed us?”

That's all it took for you to fall apart in their arms. Your grip on George's shoulders tightened while you came down from your high. Even in your blissed out states, you liked to guess which of the twins would cum first. But they were twins through and through.

Both of your holes were filled with their warm cum almost simultaneously. Neither twin pulled out or let you down. Even when their muscles started to get tired, they kept a hold of you.

Literally or figuratively, the twins would always keep a hold of you. Because you were the only one who had been given the keys to their hearts.

And they would do anything to get you back.

#george weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x fem #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #fred weasley #george weasley smut #fred weasley smut #george wealsey x reader #george weasley headcanon #george weasely smut #george weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley fic #weasley twins smut #weasley twins

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justmeinadaze · 13 days

Note

Hi! I have this really REALLY angsty request that if you don’t want to do it okay, but since you’ve posted things with a similar theme I thought maybe you could write it.

So it’s similar to the pop star!reader x bodyguard!steddie, but this is just regular them Ig? So reader overdoses with some of Eddie’s stuff, and when the boys arrive, Eddie kinda gets flashbacks from when his mom overdosed. I’m just really a craver for angst, hurt, comfort fics

Thank you so much! I love your stuff!!🤍🤍

Steddie Asks/ Ko-Fi <3

Warning: Dark themes of drugs and overdosing, all three discuss an incident where the reader overdoses

The table is silent as you and your boyfriends pick at the food they had purchased after bringing you home from the hospital. Having grown accustomed to the balanced meal they provided, you were struggling to fully get through the heavy pasta in front of you.

You hated this; the weighted energy that hung in the air.

You would give anything to go back to how things used to be when you, Steve, and Eddie could just laugh and have fun but a line had been forever crossed. Trust broken in that one moment when you snuck into the metalhead’s things and found drugs that weren’t meant for you especially after you promised things were going to be different.

“I know! I’m sorry! I don’t mean to go overboard. Everything is just so overwhelming and it helps me…breathe. I promise, I’ll slow down. I’ll get clean, I swear.”

You meant it at the time and every time after when you talked yourself out of buying a new supply. But when you were fired from your job for seemingly no reason, you needed to numb your brain.

“Just one more.”, you had told yourself.

One more turned into another hit and then another…and another…until a couple of days later you woke up in an emergency room with your boyfriends clinging to your hands.

“Do you want me to make you something?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve barely touched your food. If you don’t want it I can make you something else.”, Steve explains as his eyes scan you over.

“Oh, um, no. I’m ok. I’m just not very hungry, I guess.” He nodded without saying another and you felt like you were going to explode. “How long are we going to do this?”

“Do what, honey?”

“Avoid the topic of what happened.”

“We don’t need to talk about that now.”, Eddie mumbled without even looking your way.

“I’d like to. I’d prefer it over this.” Neither man said anything as they continued to stare in front of them at their food. “Come on, guys. Yell, scream, throw things; I don’t fucking care just…talk to me.”

“Not right now.”, the metalhead repeated in a firmer tone.

“When then, Ed?”

“Whenever Eddie chooses it seems.”, the other boy sassed throwing you off guard slightly. You half expected any hostility to be directed towards you but the way Steve said that…he was angry at his friend as well.

“Well go on. Out with it, Harrington. You’ve been fucking passive aggressive since we got to the hospital. Just fucking get it out, man.”

“Oh, it’s ok now? Now you’ll fucking listen to me. You didn’t listen to me when I asked you not to keep any drugs in this fucking apartment!”

“I didn’t expect her to dig through my things!”

“She’s an addict, you fucking idiot!”

“HEY!”, you shouted as Eddie rose from his chair, knocking it down behind him. “I said talk, not be mean. This isn’t his fault.”

“No, you’re right. It’s both your faults. I asked him not to bring drugs here because you were trying to get better, Y/N, but you were still struggling. I saw it every day you came home! You were always one step away from fucking breaking but you never said anything! Why!? Why didn’t you talk to us or hell even a doctor?! I don’t fucking care!”

“I didn’t know how…”

“Oh, fucking bullshit!”

“Because I didn’t want to burden you two! That’s all I fucking am! You both have enough going on than to deal with me.”

“So, this was better? Us finding you on the fucking bedroom floor?!” At Steve’s words, Eddie crossed his arms as he hugged himself tightly; the memory of that day hitting them both. “Did you think when we found you barely breathing, we thought ‘Oh thank God. One less problem.’? Or when we watched EMS poke and prod your pale, sweaty skin that we were thankful you did this instead of coming to us? That we would be proud that you feel better numbing yourself with that shit than being open with the men you supposedly love?!”

In anger, he flipped the dining room table making you jump and stand as everything crashed to the ground. The former jock had been holding this in for weeks and now that the flood gates had been opened, he couldn’t stop them.

“I thought you were gonna die. You didn’t see what we saw, Y/N. All the color was gone from your face and you were so sticky with sweat…I’ll never forget that smell… You didn’t move or answer us. When EMS arrived, they were shouting a lot but the thing that stood out was ‘She’s not breathing.’”

Eddie’s own breathing stuttered and when you glanced his way you realized he was trying to control the tears that had begun to fall.

“They asked what you took but when we told them we didn’t know but we know your history and they suggested what it could have been, I knew from his face it was something Munson brought in. I almost fucking killed him, Y/N.”

“Steve—”

“No. I’m not exaggerating or anything like that. It took all of my energy to not beat the shit out of him right then and there.”

“You think I don’t do that already?”, the metalhead growled. “You think I don’t fucking beat myself for what happened?! I stopped dealing the moment we found out about her vices. I gave Rick back everything I had because I knew that temptation would be hard for her. He needed someone to hold onto his stuff for a couple of days because Rick expected his PO to make a surprise visit. Steve, I swear to God, I didn’t think she would… I trusted her…”

After drying his eyes, Eddie squared his shoulders towards you both.

“Maybe that was naive but she was getting better. That’s our problem, Harrington. I trust her too much and you don’t trust her at all!”

“I don’t and this is exactly the reason why!”

“I understand.” Your tiny voice cuts through their fury giving them pause. “When I get low like I did and the craving hits… it’s like being in a black hole I can’t crawl out of. I didn’t think about how my choice would affect either of you but especially Eddie. All I could think about was how I just needed the pain to stop. I am so fucking sorry. I-I-I understand if you want to take a break or some time away from me while I deal with this. I just—”

Steve cuts you off by stepping over the contents on the floor and yanking you to his chest.

“You’re doing it again, honey. You don’t have to face this alone. We’re here to help you every step of the way.”

“Just because we’re upset with you doesn’t mean we stopped loving you.”, Eddie added before wrapping his arm around you both. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am.”

“I forgive you. It’s going to take some time but we can get this and become better together.”

“I love you both so much and I’m so sorry for scaring you. Even if it takes my whole life I’ll make it up to you.”, you pledge as your voice is slightly muffled by the chest in front of you.

“Baby, all we want is for you to be happy. That’s all we’ve ever wanted.” Nodding, you push your face into the metalhead’s warm embrace as Steve released the two of you to pick up the table and the mess he had made. “Y/N, you remind me a lot of my mother. You are beautiful, funny, and sweet almost to a fault but when we found you… you were unresponsive like her… My dad abandoned her long before she passed but I promise, sweetheart, we’ll be right here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone.”

After kissing your forehead, Eddie knelt down to help his friend and both boys exchange a small smile before you follow his decent to help to.

“Oh, Y/N, we got this—”

“Together, Steve. Any kind of chaos or situation life throws our way we handle it together.”

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alwaysonthemend · 1 month

Text

Author’s Note: Hello my friends. I’ve been having the worst writer's block of my life and I am so so sorry that it’s been so long. This fic has been in my drafts for forever so I decided to finish it up since my brain is all out of new ideas. That being said, I’ve always planned on this being a two-part story so I thought I would leave you all with part 1 for now while I try to get my shit together lol. As always, I hope you enjoy. And if you see any typos… no you didn’t. Also don’t worry I promise that part 2 will have hella smut ;)

Content Warnings: Angst / talk of sex (non graphic - happened in the past) / sadness / feelings of not being good enough / low self esteem / unrequited love (for now) / miscommunication

Word Count: 8k

My Taglist: Here

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

Maybe it's just the excitement of the last show. Maybe it’s nerves or just the tension and energy oozing from everyone as they all prepared for showtime. Maybe it's the fear. Maybe it's the joy of celebration, or maybe it’s the dread of things going wrong. And maybe, if you’re really honest with yourself, it’s the goodbye that stands menacingly on the horizon – like a sentry waiting to capture your heart in his iron first. Maybe it’s none of those things, or maybe it’s a combination of all of them. But it’s worse tonight – that need that you have for him. The one that seems like it’s become a constant storm cloud that hovers oppressively over your heart, no matter how hard you try to push it down. It’s still there – lingering and festering like a wound. You push the feeling away for what feels like the thousandth time. Tonight isn’t the night.

Show nights are hectic, especially a night as important as this one; Dreams in Gold is drawing towards its inevitable ending, and everyone wants these last few shows to finish on a high note – preferably with as few hiccups as possible. There’s only a handful more after tonight – with just a small break for the boys in between, before the last leg kicks off. And your job is simple: make sure the boys look good while doing what they do best.

Josh’s makeup is usually first, as he prefers to be ready to go a lot earlier than the rest of the band. A fact which, as he’s stated numerous times, is due in part to his nerves and anxiety before he takes the stage. His jumpsuits may be his armor, but his makeup is his war paint – equally as important (if not moreso) than his beautiful outfits. He’s jittery as he sits in his chair, leg bouncing and fingers drumming endlessly on his knee.

“Josh,” you mutter as you swipe some gold glitter across his eyelids, “you’ve got to stop moving.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles, voice soft as he tries to rest it for the night. “Just nervous.”

“I know.” You tell him, giving his knee an affectionate squeeze. “But you all are going to do great. You always do.” You pull out a tube of mascara and delicately swipe it through his lashes to complete his look. “What is it you always say? ‘Fuck fear’?”

Josh gives you an airy chuckle and a lopsided grin.

“Something like that.”

“Well, try and follow some of your own advice, Oh Wise One.”

He just rolls his eyes playful at you, but the tension eases from his shoulders a tiny bit. Small victories.

There’s comfortable silence for a while as you methodically glue a few rhinestones to his cheek bones.

“And when are you going to follow my advice?”

You quirk your brow at him quizzically, eyes staying focused on his rhinestones as you attempt to make them as symmetrical as possible.

“When are you going to say ‘fuck fear’?” He straightens his posture slightly as you pull away from him, brows pinching together. “The phrase seems…” he waves his hand vaguely towards you. “...particularly apt for your current situation.”

You turn your back to him to place the rhinestone case on the counter. You know exactly what he’s getting at but you’re in no mood to discuss such matters with him. He caught onto you a long time ago – his remarkable ability to pick up on subtle nuances and feelings from everyone around him becoming the bane of your existence for the past few months.

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to admit the truth to him. Once you admit it to yourself, of course.”

“I’m not admitting anything to anyone, Joshua.” You still haven’t turned back to look at him, instead busying yourself with pulling out the items you need for Sam next. “I wish you would just let this go. It’s just a stupid. It’ll go away.”

You both know that you’re lying.

“I highly doubt that, love.” Josh says sweetly, rising from his chair to come and stand next to you. He places his hand on your shoulder and the coldness of his fingers seeps into your skin at the contact – yet the warmth of the gesture isn’t lost on you.

“I know you.” He pauses, grinning a bit. “And trust me when I say I know him… given the whole twin thing, and all that. This isn’t just a passing feeling.”

“Maybe for me it isn’t.” You say, a slight bit of resentment bleeding out in your tone as you pull open a makeup drawer with more force than necessary. “But he’s just so…” You trail off, looking for the right word.

“Aloof?” Josh supplies knowingly, hand dropping from your shoulder to rest at his side.

You nod once at him, eyes dropping to stare at the bottles of foundation that line the counter in front of you.

“That’s his own fear getting in the way. You know how he is: him and emotions don’t get along too well. They haven’t since we were kids. He prefers to lock them all up and throw away the key instead of allowing himself to be vulnerable.”

“He doesn’t owe me anything – especially not vulnerability. We got drunk and fucked each other in a bar bathroom… hardly romantic or vulnerable to begin with.” You bite your lip, the unwanted and all-encompassing hurt from that night rearing its ugly head yet again. “And we both agreed that it was a mistake, and then we moved on. There isn’t anything else to it.”

“Sunflower,” Josh says, the nickname falling from his lips in almost a whisper, “you and I – and him for that matter, know that neither of you have moved on.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what there is to say. You want to believe him, you really do. You want to allow that shriveled up little seedling of hope in your chest to bloom. But you know better. You learned better.

“You don’t believe me.” It’s not a question. He knows you don’t.

“I wish I could. But he won’t give me anything to go on. One minute he’s there next to me and he’s flirting and being so sweet… and the next it’s like he’s a million miles away – barely even looking at me.” You sigh, and the weight of it all seems to press down on your shoulders as you slump forward, allowing yourself a moment of weakness with the kind man who stands in front of you. “I just wish he would talk to me. Why won’t he just talk to me?”

You hate the tears that burn behind your eyes and you hate the ache that opens up like a chasm in your chest. You wish you could hate him, too. Lord knows you’ve tried.

“Jake isn’t the best at words. But he’ll try. For you, I know he will.” He offers you a kind smile that soothes your aching heart a little bit. “Go to him. I promise he’ll talk if you’d just give him the opportunity to. He’s too afraid to approach you first.”

You glance at your watch.

“It’s getting close. I still need to do Sammy and Danny.”

Josh hears the unspoken dismissal and he inclines his head to you.

“Of course. I’ll leave you alone now. You know I’m only pestering you because I love you and want you to be happy.”

“I love you too, Josh.” You giggle. “Why couldn’t I have just fallen for you instead of your brother? You’re so much easier to talk to.” You lament, giving him a self-deprecating smile.

Josh’s eyes glitter with amusement and he grins at you, the apples of his cheeks growing pink with laughter.

“Oh I wish, sweet Sunflower.” He bows his head, allowing the curls on his forehead to fall slightly. “But alas, my heart belongs to another, anyway. A losing battle it would have been.” He pitches his tone upwards, summoning his most theatrical voice. “My heart burns with undying love for someone else.” He says, raising his arms with an obnoxiously over-the-top flourish.“My soul has been intertwined with another. The call of the universe summoned us tog-”

“Okay, yeah I’m sure.” You interrupt him, shaking your head in laughter at his dramatics. “Give your undying love a kiss for me, would you? In case I leave before you all?”

“Trying to steal him from me?” Josh asks, placing a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes widening in mock surprise for a moment before smiling at you warmly.“Of course I will. But you better not leave before saying goodbye. And that’s an order.”

You give him a salute.

“Yes sir, your majesty.”

And with that, he’s gone – curly head disappearing out the corridor and leaving you with a head swimming with too many thoughts to process.

Your relationship with Jake has been special from the start. From the first moment that you’d met him, you’d been drawn to him – like a moth to a flame. He made you feel alive and excited and terrified all at once. Trading flirtations with him became second nature – you poking fun at his pension for dressing in all black (pointedly referring to him as emo despite how much he denies it), and he always made sure to laugh whenever your naturally clumsy nature caused you to trip or drop something. But there’s never any malice in your little exchanges – your words instead dripping with thinly veiled joy (and perhaps a bit of nerves) as the two of you interact with each other.

Even your nickname comes from Jake. That first day that you had met him, you’d been wearing a dress with sunflowers on it. He’d complemented it – telling you the flowers brought out the color of your eyes. And so maybe you’d worn a pair of sunflower earrings the next time you saw him (though you’d never admit to him that you did it on purpose), and Jake had been quick to point them out before jokingly referring to you as Sunflower. And the name had stuck – a fact which you were infinitely glad of.

Your flirting with Jake continued to escalate as the two of you got to know each other better and it didn’t take long for your crush on him to develop into something more. Jake had carved a space for himself within your heart and no one else could fill it like he could. And before long, those flirty conversations between the two of you snowballed into a drunken, passionate-filled night in a bar bathroom – fueled on by lowered inhibitions and post-show adrenaline. It was fast and hard, but you’d enjoyed yourself thoroughly and hope had unfurled itself in your chest like a flower in the sun. Though it quickly withered and died once the afterglow had died off and Jake had told you plainly that it was an alcohol-fueled mistake.

He’d said sorry, and he looked like he really was. And you’d assured him that there were no hard feelings and that yes, it had in fact been a mistake. Though it was a mistake for different reasons than what he had thought. For him – at least you assumed, the mistake lies in that he allowed himself to become carried away, drunk and tense from a show. For you, though, the mistake is that you fell for him… and in the fact that you now knew what it was like to have him – only for him to be promptly ripped away from you again. Which only made his absence all the worse.

And although you’d both promised to act like it never happened, things changed. He grew distant. Never cold, but the familiarity and ease that had once existed between the two of you had been shattered beyond repair. No more flirty conversations or silly exchanges between the two of you. Instead, awkwardness has taken up residence. Every now and then, that old joviality would slip back into your interactions with him but he quickly catches himself and reels it back in. It’s confusing and hurtful, and you often lose sleep over his constant swinging back and forth. Regret lays heavy in your mind when you think back to that night at the bar, wishing that you’d put a stop to things before it got so far.

You’re snapped from your melodramatic thoughts by Sam boisterously crashing into the room, a goofy smile plastered over his face.

“I’m ready to be bedazzled!” He exclaimed, planting his lanky form into the chair and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you, and the sadness of the moment prior is shoved from your mind as you fall into easy conversation with him.

Danny follows soon after Sam, and in the bustle of getting everything ready, you almost forget about everything. Though the thoughts still remain, brewing in the back of your mind like a thunderstorm just waiting to be unleashed.

The show is spectacular, as is to be expected from your boys. As nervous as they might be beforehand, they never fail to deliver a jaw-dropping performance. You’d watched from the sides, soaking up the energy of the last show and doing your best to not think about the months that you were about to spend without getting to see them at all. Though you all live in Nashville, there’s no reason for you to see any of them outside of work. And even though they’re technically your bosses, they have all quickly wormed their way into your heart, earning themselves the title of ‘friend’ above all else.

The night is turning out to be magical and you’re struck with a sudden surge of courage as you stand there watching them perform– or more specifically, watching him perform.

He’s truly in his element up there on stage, shredding on his guitar like there’s no tomorrow. You always enjoy getting to see this side of Jake, given how reserved he tends to be in his normal day-to-day life. In the time that you’ve known him, you’ve discovered that Jake is stoic and reserved around those he doesn’t know – content to sit in the corner and watch; but when he’s around people that he knows and trusts, his humor and kindness shine brighter than anyone else’s you’d ever met. You’d seen before how the fans often referred to Josh and Jake as the sun and moon, affectionately pointing out their subtle differences in personality despite being twins. But you had learned that Jake is by no means any less affectionate and joyful as Josh is, he’s just content to be a little quieter about it – making those times that he is loud all the more special.

Once the show was over, the boys and some of the other crew were planning on going out to celebrate – apparently having booked a private room at a restaurant downtown in which everyone could make a little merry before officially saying goodbye. You hadn’t wanted to go, but Josh and Danny had given you their best puppy dog eyes, and you’d begrudgingly agreed to accompany them.

Which is how you find yourself sitting at a table in the corner, brooding over your earlier conversation with Josh. With the tour being on break for now, you won’t be seeing any of them until it starts up again. And although you’re confident that Josh, Sam, and Danny will probably stay in contact with you here and there, (and maybe ask to get lunch every now and again) you know for a fact that the same can’t be said for Jake. If the past few months were anything to go by, you know that it’s going to be radio silence as soon as tonight is over. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he goes around the room, making conversation with seemingly everyone but you. It hurts, and maybe it’s the liquor that’s coursing through your veins or the months of hurt finally spilling over, but you decide that enough is enough. You’re tired of living on what ifs and maybes. You hear Josh’s voice in your head, clear as a bell: Fuck fear.

With that thought in mind, you down the rest of your drink and stand up, determined to finally speak with Jake about what’s going on between the two of you. He’s across the room, talking with Danny’s drum kit tech. Jake looks effortlessly gorgeous, just as he always does.

As you begin your trek across the room the nerves and adrenaline kick in. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and roll your shoulders back.

He’s right there. All you have to do is ask him if you can speak with him for a moment. You know he’ll agree to – despite everything, Jake is still one of the kindest people you’ve ever met. He’d never intentionally upset you… or anyone for that matter.

Josh had told you that Jake feels the same. Josh knows Jake better than anyone… and you trust Josh. And you trust Jake not to intentionally hurt you. He’s just afraid – just like you are.

His back is to you. Easiest thing in the world to just… touch his arm to get his attention.

Just as you reach your hand out to touch his shoulder, a girl who you’ve never seen before slides up next to him, comfortably easing her arm around his waist. Jake throws his arm over her shoulders and draws her in close and you watch in detached horror as he turns his head to face her and presses a kiss to her cheek.

You draw back as if burned, spinning on your heel with the plan of getting the fuck out of here as fast as you can, hurt and embarrassment washing over you in waves – mingling with each other and making the perfect concoction for a panic attack.

Frantically, your eyes scan the crowd in search of Josh: your one comfort throughout all of this, but you don’t see him. God, where the fuck is he? Of all the times-

“Sunflower?”

It’s Jake’s voice, and you turn to see him, Danny’s tech, and the girl looking at you in concern.

“Are you alright?” Jake asks, dropping his arm from around the girl to turn around more fully.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Your voice comes out breathless and a little frantic, doing a poor job of hiding your impending meltdown.

“Are you sure? You look a little-” Jake starts.

“I was actually just about to leave. Sorry.” You interrupt him, unwilling to spend a moment longer watching someone else have what you want so badly.

“Already?” Danny’s tech asks, and if you were in a better state of mind you��d probably feel guilty for not being able to remember his name. Instead, your mind is focused on the mounting panic rising in your chest, threatening to overtake you as you desperately try to keep your cool.

“I’m a little tired.” You supply vaguely, eyes scanning the crowd again in search of Josh. Still no sign of him.

“Well, I was hoping to introduce you to Lindsey.” Jake says, causing your eyes to cut back to him. He’s smiling, but you can’t decipher the odd look in his eyes.

“Hi.” She says, giving you a kind smile. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

She extends her hand for you to shake and your eyes briefly snap to Jake’s. He looks on edge, like he’s waiting for something. Your approval? You’re not sure.

You shake the girl’s hand.

“Hi. I’m Y/n.”

Lindsey smiles. She’s pretty. Very pretty. She’s not wearing a lot of makeup, just a little bit of mascara and some blush. Her clothes aren’t overly flashy and her eyes seem soft and kind. She’s exactly the type of girl you can imagine Jake going for and the thought makes you want to throw up. But instead, like the adult you are, you plaster a smile on your face to match hers.

“Jake’s told me a little bit about you. He says you’re a great makeup artist.” You know she’s saying that to be nice and to find some ground where you’re comfortable – obviously sensing that you’re on edge and trying to help in any way she can. But you just can’t do this. Not tonight. Not now.

“I’m alright, I guess.” You shrug, and you can feel how forced your smile is but you persist. “It’s really nice to meet you but I really need to get going. Jake?” You turn to him, doing your best to ignore the tears that are beginning to brim in your eyes. “Have you seen Josh? I told him I wouldn’t leave without telling him and his partner goodbye.”

He shakes his head no, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that can only be described as defensive and uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I haven’t. I’ll keep an eye out for him, though.”

“That’s alright. I’ll just shoot him a text later. Congrats on a successful night,” you say, nodding to the tech, Danny, and then to Jake before turning to Lindsey, “and it was really nice to meet you. I’m sorry I’ve gotta run.”

“That’s okay. I hope you have a good night.” She offers, eyes still watching you in concern. Somehow, her kindness makes this whole thing worse.

You turn away from the group and, as if in a dream, you make your way to the exit of the bar.

With no Josh in sight, you pull your phone from your pocket and call an Uber to take you back to the hotel where you’ll pack up your bags for the last time. This time tomorrow, you’ll be in your own bed away from all the madness. You wish the thought gave you more comfort.

//////

Three weeks pass agonizingly slowly. After being on tour for so long, the sudden change in tempo to your normally fast paced life leaves you floating through your days as if in a dream. Where once it seemed as though you barely had time to even sit down and think, now you have too much time to do exactly that. There’s only so many good shows that you missed and there’s only so many useless outings to be had before you find yourself going stir crazy. Distraction-less, your thoughts swirl hopelessly around Jake and your bitter, self-hating disappointment.

You think fondly about the first time you met. You think of your flirting and of the soft moments the two of you shared before it all went to hell. You even think of that damn bar bathroom; you think of the passion and the hope that had bloomed in you that night, and of the crushing disappointment and hurt that soon followed. And inevitably, your thoughts always seem to circle back to that last night, when you finally mustered up the courage to say something, only for the universe to seemingly throw it back in your face with a laugh and a middle finger. And the very worst part of it all had been Lindsey’s obvious kindness and concern towards you, despite having only just met. You hate that you can understand why he chose her.

Those thoughts feel particularly loud tonight as you stare down at an invitation to a group dinner from Josh. He, along with Sam and Danny, had texted you here and there – little things about what was going on in their lives since you last had seen them. But this was the first time that you had been asked to go out with them.

You’re torn. Torn between the desire to see all of your friends again and wanting to avoid having to see Jake (and even worse, Lindsey) if you didn’t absolutely have to. But, deciding to put your big girl pants on, you accepted, texting Josh a simple Sure :)

He responded almost immediately, eagerly letting you know how excited he was to see you.

And here you find yourself, nervously adjusting your top for the millionth time that night as you drive to the bar that Josh had told you about. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but to think about Jake as you had gotten dressed. You feel silly for still allowing yourself to be so hung up on him. You shake your head at yourself, almost in the hopes that the thoughts will slip from your mind at the action. Despite everything, you’re determined to have a good time tonight.

You’ve never been to this bar before, nestled away just a few blocks from Broadway on the East side of Nashville. It’s a nice place, but not so fancy that it comes across as too uptight or uncomfortable. Walking through the doors, you see that there’s a bar off to the right, with a few larger tables scattered across the floor to your left, and some pool tables and a dart board tucked away in the back. It seems laid back and comfortable – just the kind of place the boys like to frequent. Sam and Danny are already at a table, excitedly beckoning you over.

“Sunflower!” Danny calls, standing from his seat and opening his arms wide.

You jog over to him, grinning from ear to ear as you allow him to engulf you in a hug.

“I missed you.” He tells you sweetly, squeezing you a little tighter.

“I missed you too, Dan. Especially your hugs.”

“Quit hogging her!” Sam interrupts, gripping your wrists in his long fingers and pulling you from Danny and into himself.

Giggling, you hug him too.

“And I missed you.” You pull away from him, casting your eyes between the two of them. “I missed all of you guys. Speaking of… where’s tweedle dee and tweedle dum?”

The three of you sit, Danny pulling your chair out for you like the gentleman that he is.

“Josh is running late, as usual.” Sam supplies with an eye roll, “And I think Jake and Lindsey should be here soon. He said they were on their way a while ago.”

It feels like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on you but you keep your expression smooth. Of course he would be bringing Lindsey tonight… Why wouldn’t he?

Unfortunately for you, they do arrive soon, and seeing Jake again feels like a punch in the gut. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans coupled with a white button up, and his signature necklace glitters against his chest. He looks stunning, and Lindsey’s beauty only stands out more in the beautiful sundress that she has on.

“There you two are!” Sammy says loudly, and Jake inclines his head.

“Ladies,” he nods at you and Sam, “and Danny, good to see you.”

Sam scowls as Jake and Danny share a laugh.

“Y/n! It’s good to see you again.” Lindsey says with a smile, taking a seat in the chair directly to your right. You push back the annoyance, reminding yourself that it’s not her fault that Jake doesn’t feel the same towards you.

The table descends into easy conversation, though you find yourself having a difficult time keeping up. You smile and nod at what you hope is the correct times, but your thoughts are a thousand miles away. All you can think about is that night in that damn bar bathroom, and how good it had felt in the moment. You think about that night more often than you’d ever care to admit, but the memory is soured anyway by what followed. You can still see Jake’s face, passive and expressionless, as he shattered your heart in two.

And of course, you think of the last show, when you’d allowed Josh to convince you that Jake felt the same. God, you’ll never forget seeing him lean over to kiss Lindsey’s cheek, her arm wrapped around his waist just like yours had been that night at the bar. You wish, suddenly, that you’d ordered alcohol instead of water.

“Right, Sunflower?”

The question snaps you from your racing thoughts and you look up to see everyone at the table looking at you. Your cheeks flush as you wrack your brains to try and recall what they’d been talking about but you come up empty. You open your mouth to spew some bullshit excuse when you hear the door to the restaurant bust open obnoxiously.

“The party has arrived!” Josh bellows, drawing the attention of just about everyone in the building, and – thankfully, the attention of everyone at your table. You slink down further in your seat, suddenly feeling like you’ve run a marathon.

Josh and his partner take a seat to your left, and their presence instantly soothes you in a way you can hardly explain.

“What the hell are you two always doing that makes you so late to everything?” Sam asks him, taking a sip of his drink and quirking his brow.

“You don’t want to know, brother mine.” Josh says with a lewd grin, causing the entire table to erupt in groans of disgust. You laugh softly and Josh’s partner gives you a wink.

Conversations pick up again amongst everyone, though you mostly only speak to Josh’s partner, the two of you scooting backwards in your chairs to speak around Josh – who’s leaning forward as he tells an animated story about something or other, hands flapping about wildly.

“Does he ever run out of things to say?” You stage whisper at his partner, who guffaws loudly and assures you that no, Josh does not, in fact, ever run out of things to say.

“You should see him when we go to the store!” He tells you, eyes twinkling with affection, “He talks to just about everyone in the fucking Publix. I have to drag him out – for my sake and for theirs.”

“What does he even talk to them about?” You ask through a laugh.

“I don’t know. He talks a lot but says very little, most of the time.”

At that, Josh leans back into his chair and turns his head back and forth between the two of you, eyes narrowed and a mocking frown on his face.

“Are you two talking about me?”

“Never!” You tell him seriously, giving your best poker face.

“Absolutely not. I love you just the way you are, babe.” His partner assures him, and you know that he’s not kidding in the slightest. They’re annoyingly perfect for each other.

Josh looks on in suspicion as you and his partner lock eyes, both fighting to hold back your laughter and Josh raises an eyebrow at the two of you. You just shrug your shoulders and smile, while his partner smiles into his drink – the both of you completely unable to meet Josh’s eyes for fear of breaking out into giggles.

“Sure. Whatever, Very convincing.” Josh mutters, shaking his head and fighting a smile of his own. “Anyways, tell us what you’ve been up to, Sunflower.”

You feel warmth overtake your cheeks as everyone’s eyes turn to you and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole as Jake’s gaze finally lands on you as well. For the life of you, you can’t get a read on him – a fact that hurts you beyond measure.

“Oh, not much, to be completely honest.” You tell them, shrugging your shoulders. “Not much to do around here when I’m not dealing with you guys’ craziness.”

“Nothing?” Danny asks in disbelief, “No family or friends you’ve been hanging out with?”

“You guys are the only friends I have here in Nash.” You glance down at your lap. “Just been me, myself, and I.”

Josh, in typical Josh fashion, changes the subject upon noticing your discomfort – and you promptly excuse yourself to the ladies’ room. Rising from your seat, you scamper quickly away from the table.

You splash cold water on your face and smooth down a few fly-away hairs. Gazing in the mirror, you smile at yourself. Even you can see that it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You jump as the door to the bathroom opens, eyes widening as you see Lindsey entering. You fight back a frown. She’s the last person you want to see.

“Hey.” She says simply, coming to stand beside you in front of the mirror,

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You tell her, and wince at the harshness of your tone. “Thank you for asking though.” You add, softer this time.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” She says kindly, giving you a soft smile in the mirror. “I know we don’t really know each other, but… I’m here, if there’s something you want to talk about. I’m good at listening.”

You sigh, heart warming just a little at her obvious kindness and sincerity. You don’t know whether it’s better or worse that she’s a good person – it would be easier to dislike her if she wasn’t. But it’s also easier to accept Jake choosing her over you knowing that she’s a genuine person. Deciding to go out on a limb, you choose your next words carefully – keeping them truthful, but vague.

“Just guy trouble. It’s stupid, really. I don’t know why I’m letting it affect me like this.”

“A breakup?”

“Not necessarily…” You scratch the back of your neck, nerves beginning to show themselves again. “We, um- we slept together. Once. And I really liked him. But he said it was a mistake and we haven’t really spoken since.”

“Did you,” she speaks slowly – delicately, even. “Did you know him well? Before?”

“Yeah. He was always so sweet. Flirty, but not obnoxiously so. I really thought something was there. Something… real.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, looking in the mirror to smooth her own hair down. “And you haven’t spoken to him since?”

“Not in a way that matters. Not about what happened.”

“Maybe you should try.” She says, tilting her head at you. “You never know unless you try.”

You duck your head, fighting the tears that begin to burn behind your eyes.

“He’s with someone else now. And they seem to be happy. I don’t want to cause trouble where it’s not necessary. I just need to…” you trail off for a moment, staring at your reflection hopelessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“You love him, then?”

Her question makes you freeze for a moment. Do you love him? You hadn’t really wanted to put a direct name to how you feel about Jake. But standing here, crying over him to the girl he chose over you, you figure you’ve hit rock bottom already anyway.

“Yeah, I do.” Your admission comes out quiet – broken in such a way that you almost don’t even recognize it.

“I’m sorry.” She says, her gaze dropping down onto the counter, staring at the little puddles of water. “I wish I could say something to help, but I know there’s nothing to say. It just fucking sucks, feeling like that.”

You nod, sniffling a little and wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“And you know what the worst part of it all is?”

She just shakes her head, allowing you to continue.

“The girl he’s with now… I get it. I totally get why he chose her.” You let out a watery laugh and you see Lindsey’s eyes fill with her own tears as she watches you fall apart. “I would have chosen her, too.”

You blink and suddenly you’re being hugged. You’re stunned for just a moment before you hesitantly wrap your arms around her loosely.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” She says, pulling away from you and placing her hands on your shoulders, willing you to meet her gaze. “You’ll find the one. I know you will.”

“Thank you.” You sniffle again and laugh quietly, “God, this is so embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” She says kindly, dropping her hands and smiling. “Sometimes you just need another girl to listen. I love the guys – and they’re more sensitive and understanding than most, but they don’t get stuff like this like we do.”

You nod at her, taking a deep breath to gather yourself.

“Ready to go back out?”

“Yeah.” You say, and you follow behind her as the two of you make your way back out to the table.

The rest of the night passes by in a blur. After your return from the bathroom, you don’t allow your thoughts to prevent you from enjoying time with your friends. They really are all you have and you’ve missed them terribly. You catch eyes with Lindsey every now and again, and she always gives you an encouraging smile as she watches you engage, and little sparks of affection and thankfulness for her warm your chest. It really isn’t her fault.

After you’ve all eaten, and the alcohol begins to take more affect, Sam suddenly rises from his seat and slams his palms against the table (effectively causing all the plates to rattle obnoxiously)

“Daniel!” He says, pointing a finger at poor Danny who looks back at him with wide eyes. “I challenge you to a game of pool right this instant. I’m tired of sitting.”

Danny rolls his eyes playfully and stands, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

“Don’t start something you know you can’t win.” Danny tells him with a grin.

“40 bucks says I beat you.”

The rest of you watch on in amusement as the two bicker all the way over to the pool tables.

“Jake?” Josh asks, turning to his twin, “Wanna play?”

“Fuck ya.” Jake responds, also rising from his place. “Ready to beat your ass.”

“In your dreams, Jakey.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jake says petulantly, brushing past Josh with a deliberate nudge against his shoulder.

You, Josh’s partner, and Lindsey follow the boys over to the tables, laughing at their antics. Everyone is sporting a buzz now and you’re well on your way to getting your own little buzz. You figure you deserve it.

You watch on in amusement as the boys allow themselves to let loose – you love watching them like this. They’re like little kids, giggling and messing with each other as they play pool.

“I haven’t seen them all together like this.” Lindsey tells you from her seat next to you. “They’re like…”

“Children?” You supply, giggling softly. “They’re always like this. Even during a tour.”

The both of you laugh loudly as Josh sinks a ball, exclaiming loudly in triumph before Jake interrupts his celebration to let him know that he hit one of Jake’s into the pocket and not his own. Josh lets out a particularly petulant “Fuck!” and Jake tosses his head back and laughs.

You watch him, completely unable to pull your eyes away from him. He looks… transcendent like that, joy and laughter making his eyes crinkle at the corners in the way that always makes your heart melt. A pang shoots through your chest as memories of when he used to laugh with you like that enter your thoughts unbidden. You shake your head at yourself, tearing your gaze away from him to look at Lindsey – only to find her already looking at you.

You can’t quite read her expression – but there’s puzzlement in her eyes. You look away, unwilling to answer (or even acknowledge) her silent question.

Before long, the boys are far too drunk to be allowed out in public any longer, and Josh’s partner begins making the rounds to let them know that it’s time to go. He’s met with grumblings of disappointment but the boys don’t protest as you all begin to make your way outside.

“Well, Sunflower,” Danny says, smiling widely with flushed cheeks as he looks at you, “I guess we won’t see you again until tour starts again.” He extends his strong arms, waiting to give you a goodbye hug. You fall into him, letting your eyes fall closed as he squeezes you.

“You give the best hugs, Danny.”

“So you keep telling me.” He grins, pulling away as Josh’s partner ducks in to hug you as well.

“Me next!” Sam exclaims loudly, yanking you from his grip to pull you into his lanky arms.

“Bye, Sammy.” You giggle. “Till next time.”

You pull away to see Josh waiting patiently for his turn.

“See you soon, Sunflower.” He says, pulling you flush against him. Just as you go to pull away, he pulls you in tighter and leans in close.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. You blink away the tears that want to fall at his words.

Lastly, Jake stands, hands awkwardly in his pockets as he waits. You’re not sure what to do until he opens his arms for you. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in his scent as it envelopes you.

He leans in close – so close that his lips are almost touching your ear.

“See you later, Sunflower.”

“Bye, Jake.” You say quietly.

He squeezes you tighter, letting the embrace last for just a moment too long.

Pulling away, you catch Lindsey’s eyes, and for the first time tonight, she doesn’t return the smile that you give her.

You trudge your way back to your car, suddenly wishing that you hadn’t gone tonight. And even more, you wish – desperately, that you didn’t have to see him again at all.

Climbing into your car, you allow yourself to put on your sad song playlist and wallow in your misery the entire way home, before collapsing heavily into your bed – the call of sleep pulling you under.

///////

Jake K 1:02 AM

I think we should talk

The text is the very last thing you want to wake up to – especially with the pounding in your head and the feeling of nausea that threatens to overtake you. You hadn’t had much to drink the night before but you have a feeling that it’s not the alcohol making you feel this way. You stare at it for a long while, thoughts racing through your fuzzy brain as you try and figure out how to respond.

You knew you shouldn’t have been honest with Lindsey – no matter how kind she is. Of course she would have caught on after seeing your inability to fix your face when you watch Jake and of course she would tell him what had happened in the bathroom.

And now he’s probably upset with you. Maybe he’s angry that you’ve kept your feelings from him and fucked him in a bar bathroom like it didn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s going to fire you. Maybe Lindsey wants him to fire you. Your mind races with every worst possible scenario as you shakily type out your response.

You 10:17 AM

Is everything okay?

The speed with which he answers tells you everything that you need to know.

Jake K 10:19 AM

Can you call?

You 10:19 AM

Yes. Whenever you get a chance.

Not a second later, his name lights up across your screen with an incoming call. Heart pounding, you can only stare at it. You haven’t had time to think. To plan out how you’re supposed to just act like everything is okay. With a heavy sigh, you accept that it’s too late for that and you swipe to accept the call.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Y/n.”

Your actual name… hardly a good sign but you will the nerves and fear from your voice the best you can.

“Is everything okay?”

A heavy, pregnant pause. Then finally,

“Lindsey and I talked last night. She um. She knows. About- About us.”

You close your eyes tight, heart hammering.

“Fuck.” The word escapes you with a sigh, tears already beginning to burn in the back of your throat. “I swear I didn’t tell her, Jake. I swear it. I just-”

“I know.” He interrupts. “She explained. I um.”

You can hear him swallow and you can picture what he must look like on the other end – eyebrows pinched, maybe playing with the chain of his necklace like he does when he’s nervous or stressed. You shake your head as if it’ll clear the image from your mind.

“Jake, I’m sorry.”

He sighs – heavy and defeated.

“Don’t apologize. I- I’m sorry that I hurt you like that. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t.”

Silence again, both of you just listening to the others breathing.

“I think it might be best if- if maybe you all find someone else for makeup.”

“No.” He starts, the word louder than any of the others that he’s spoken before. “You can't just walk away. You can't leave. ”

“But I think it would be best if I did.”

This time, you can practically hear him trying to come up with something to say in the silence. But you know there isn’t really much else to say.

“You’re our friend.” He finally says, voice just barely above a whisper.

That makes you pause as you think of the others – of Josh and his soft, reassuring smiles. Of his partner and the inside jokes the two of you share. Of Sammy and his ridiculous jokes and of Danny’s hugs. You think of all the other tech people – the ones who had taken you in and treated you like family from the very start. All the people that you’re willingly walking away from... and most of them will never even know why.

It kills you. The ache in your chest is a real, breathing thing as the reality of it all sets in.

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/n, don’t-”

You end the call.

End of Part I

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

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#dee's writing #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka

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milk-ducts · 6 months

Text

[Brief] Thoughts on Film Theory's Analysis

I was gonna post this on my priv twt.. but moots convinced me to post it here so here we are.. beware of spoilers, gore, bla bla bla ..

FIRST OFF I'm gonna start by saying, I AM ESL. I may or may not have misinterpreted some of his words, but this is mainly how I thought of his analysis. This is not meant to be ill-guided or rude ! so sorry if it comes off as this way. I will be very repetitive.

Another thing, most if not all of the information matpat gave out i alr discussed with a few mutuals on discord about a few months back so this is not new territory to me 😭😭 I thought most folks would already knew the concept of how the brain deteriorates overtime But honestly, that indisposition shouldn’t even apply to omni man??? matpat tried to compare an immortal Viltrumite's psychology to that of an aging human's, which can be misguided.

Let's start by how he compares Nolan's brain to the average aging human's brain so the audience could understand his psyche more and how empathy declines overtime. First and foremost, Nolan is not a human, second; Nolan wasn't raised with empathy or around an empathetic environment - it was an alien concept to his race. Something frowned upon. He was raised from birth to conquer and destroy without remorse. His brain never developed those neural pathways for empathy in the first place. It's not that they deteriorated over time, they were never even formed.

By the time he came to Earth, all this familial stuff was new to him. Sure, he knew he was gonna outlive them, but He didn't think he'd get attached. HE didn't process that he'd grieve over them when the time came.

Interacting with humanity for the first time ignited unfamiliar emotions in Nolan that he didn’t know how to process.

His time living amongst humans caused conflicting feelings he’d never experienced in his centuries of systematic slaughter. Loving Debbie and Mark went against everything he was taught, but he couldn't help it. For once, the lives he was manipulating to further Viltrum’s goals meant something to him. He developed a [what he presumed, NOT what he felt about them in reality, his love for them is far more profound than he assumed it to be which we later on see in the last ep of s1 and the second season] petty facsimile of love for his ersatz family.

So no, his capacity for empathy didn't decline with age as MatPat claims. His empathy was stunted from the start. An underdeveloped skill, not a deteriorated one. We had characters like Debbie to help him understand those notions, help him grow it. With Mark in the mix? it only amplified that development.

Viltrumites are societally and culturally predisposed to violence and domination. Nolan was never accustomed to forming emotional connections or grieving loss. Those were entirely new experiences for him after arriving on Earth. He was not jaded. he was grown into jamais vu in viltrum.

This is why the whole conflict in s1 happened, he was treading between double lives he wasn't sure of. He was conflicted because his past values were refuting with his new experiences. He found love on Earth, he found himself unable to accept how he'd lose Debbie. Of How jaded Mark might become. Everything he said to Mark till that point was his own self-projections, his own fears, doubts.

While the video did provide some interesting facts about neuroscience and aging, the application of those facts to Nolan's character was inaccurate. IT is educational for those who don't know, but it isn't recent news that the brain begins to deteriorate overtime so this video wasn't that informative which kinda disappointed me. Their analysis lacked alot of information about the Viltrumite race and Nolan's character. Comparing him to humans with normal life experiences just doesn't work. His immortal nature combined with a lack of empathy from birth created a psychology unlike anything seen on Earth.

SORRY FOR RANTING ALOT AND OR IF IT SEEMS LIKE I'M GIVING MATPAT SHIT ... i really liked their analysis on immortal so i'll give them that. Immortal, unlike Nolan, was born human. He has lived among humanity for over 3000 years, inhabiting different identities of public and devoted historians. Because of this, his psyche developed quite differently. Immortal knows how to form connections, experience loss, and adapt to social changes. His perpetual existence didn't harden his heart like Viltrum's brutal culture did to Nolan. Instead, Immortal's immortality allowed his empathy and compassion to blossom.

Humans are social creatures. Our brains have evolved to seek out interpersonal relationships, crave affection, and find meaning in community. For an immortal like Immortal, social interaction is vital to staving off boredom, depression and detachment from humanity.

By inhabiting mortal lives, he stays tethered to the human experience. He continues learning, growing, and developing empathy.

This is why he's devastated when the guardians die.

This is also why he goes fucking mental and tries to kill Omni-man.

If Immortal had lived in isolation all this time, unable to connect with people, his psyche would likely resemble Nolan's more closely. Without social interaction, Immortal's brain would atrophy in ways that preclude complex emotions and moral reasoning. His sense of purpose would fade, achievements would lose meaning, and life itself might feel pointless. By engaging with humanity, Immortal gives his endless existence purpose and direction. He finds value in each temporary life, so loss still impacts him deeply. Socializing keeps his emotions and cognition flexible, which prevents the apathy and hardness of heart seen in Nolan. Nolan never had these opportunities in his early years, this is why it's more difficult for him to stray away from his indoctrination. It's that he's unused to it, underdeveloped.

60 years to Nolan would've been a year and a half, so what's 20 measly years on Earth for him? Yes, he found profound connections in that little speck of time, but Immortal's emotional capacity is far more extensive.

In summary, Comparing Nolan to a human, whether mortal or immortal, is kinda inaccurate. His Viltrumite psyche rules out him from possessing JADED human qualities. You could say he's desensitized to violence sure, but no.. unfortunately.. he does not have [boomer] brain. He has [indoctrinated alien-fascist brain]

Leave your own thoughts down below or through reblogs, I'm really interested on what others may think of this! (URGHHHNN... my hcs r slipping away from my fingers cuz now people r gonna accept what matpat says as truth.. someone gun me down from the hills..)

#ALSO my moots and I had all analyzed this vid and ironically enuff Matpat's analysis makes a hell of a lot more sense when applied to my OC #Aconite !! rather than her father nolan but i will discuss that in a separate post because ykno..#this may or may not have been the worst take in existence.. i am prepared to be called a dumbass.. (i am not. i am sensitive..)#it is so jover for me.. i will need to change identities..#invincible #omni man #mark grayson #omni man invincible #milky.txt #milkyrants #milkyrambles #invincible spoilers #nolan grayson #immortal invincible #ur honor omni man is cluster b coded and has ASD..#IDGAFFFFF !!!!! *i scream aloud in my padded white room rocking back and forth in a straitjacket*#i think alot of people tend to forget nolan is an alien . so let me quickly remind you .! HE IS AN ALIEN.

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candywife333 · 2 months

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Hey can u write a Professor Jimin fvcking slutty student(like with some degrading and blackmailing shit), Jimin blackmails oc with her naked videos which he secrectly filmed?

PART 1

Don't Test Me

Thank you for the request! Sorry it took a while to get to it. Will be posting daily from now on. Finished all my major exams and am ready to write limitlessly now. As usual , not proofread.

chubby insecure student y/n x Professor Jimin (nasty yandere-ish).

WILL HAVE ONE MORE PART (SMUT)

Triggers: eventual smut, dubcon, blackmail

"Y/N, stay back. I have a few things I need to discuss with you".

I stood there shell-shocked. Had no idea why Prof. Jimin would want to talk to me. I did my work silently, maintained a consistent B+ in his class, and made sure I never caused any disruption. He had a fan club filled with some of my most beautiful classmates that fawned all over him at any given time of the day. So what would he possibly need from me?

Most people in school acted as though I were invisible. And as much as others may hate it, I loved being a loner. I didn't want to be noticed. Didn't want to take up space. My life's goal is to be forgotten. Probably had to do with the fact that whenever I was noticed, it was never a pleasant experience.

I turned back to face Professor Jimin. He had a quizzical arch to his brow, almost in a questioning manner, as thought to ask why I kept so much space between me and him. If I didn't know any better, I would say that his plump lips were lifted up in a slight smirk, defiantly arrogant. Black eyes glinted back at me with an unrecognizable solemnity. Sent shivers down my back , an emotion akin to fear. He had never come off this scary before. Prof. Jimin was usually stern within good reason, but never this outright intimidating.

As though he knew something I didn't. He grumbled in a rather sharp tone of voice, "Close the door behind you Y/N. This is to be a private conversation. And come closer to my desk so I can talk to you without literally having to shout at you".

I gingerly closed the door behind me and walked over to his desk, dreading how up close I would have to be to face him. I hated invading people's personal space and I felt the same about other's encroaching on mine. Made me dicy and uncomfortable. Yet, I had no choice. I reluctantly sat in the chair right in front of his desk while he occupied the chair on the other side.

How did he even know my name? I never answered in class and was mostly just silent. The TAs usually graded all papers and assignments. He wouldn't know me, unless he made it a point to know me. This made me even more queasy. Sweat lined my forehead, droplets slowly sliding down the nape of my neck.

His face relaxed into a grin, white teeth encased by soft fluffy pink lips. Folding his hands on the table in front of him, he calmly implored, "Are you feeling alright Y/N? You seem a little nervous". I shook my head side to side rapidly as though I were a mute, gulping down my trepidation. "Nothing at all Professor Jimin, just a little stressed out with the work load in other classes", I managed to whisper out in a rush.

He laughed, his entire body shaking with laughter, tears dripping down his angelic face. Wasn't this a bit excessive reaction to what I had just said? Was he mocking what I had expressed?

The atmosphere strangely enough took on a sinister air. His black bottomless eyes, empty of all humor stilled on me. He grabbed my hand in his, a rather sudden motion, making me freeze in confusion. As he traced the lines of my hand, he hissed, "Of course you would be the only student worried about assignments, when you have grave issues of much more dire proportions to contend with Y/N".

I withdrew my hand from his warmth in bewilderment, muffling out , "I don't think I-I quite understand Professor. Have I done something wrong in class? Do I need to be punished for some mistake I made"?

My brain mindlessly droned on in a convoluted mess, calculating what I could've possibly done wrong in his class. Before I could even process it, Prof. Jimin was on the side of his table, leaning down towards my face. I flinched at his proximity. But he didn't let me get much further away.

He grabbed the nape of my neck as his breath ghosted across my lips. "Since we are in math class Y/N, what do you think about this angle"? My eyes focused on the phone screen placed in front of me. It showed a girl, chubby flesh overflowing , steam rising up all around her, completely naked bathing. As I looked closer, fear clouded my mind. Terror gripping my bones. That was me in the video.

My flushed skin, all red and blotchy from the steaming water of the shower was shown in perfect clarity. The only thing that couldn't be viewed in this video was my face, obscured by the steam. All my other body parts--droopy breasts , jiggly arms, bushy p**sy-- were visible on screen. The video was in perfect line with my frame, as though a voyeur were looking in through a keyhole, holding a camera.

My face whipped to view Professor Jimin's face. I was disgusted. Did he do this? No boy in this school would ever bother to do this. I was not attractive. Me and pretty didn't even run in the same circles. Heck she wasn't even a distant relative of mine. Why would anybody bother to take a nude video of the university's chronic loner?

Professor Jimin looked unfazed as he coolly calmly stated, no quiver in his voice, "Do you want this leaked to the university admin"? I felt like I was dying internally, squeaking out in a watery warble, tears streaming down my face in torrents, "No Sir. I-I don't. Please I beg you to get rid of this. I don't know who could have p-p-p-ossibly have done this".

I stammered out in a panic, getting on my knees on the floor below, holding his legs with both hands, begging him,"I am not even pretty. I don't have a clue who would take videos of me like this. I would never send anyone anything like this. P-please help me professor".

I looked up at Professor Jimin, expecting the cold expression he had on through this entire interaction. But what I saw in his face didn't make any sense. He seemed indignant. In fact enraged. I don't think I ever see him like this even in class. He grabbed me in an abrupt motion, with a strength I didn't think he had in him for how lithe he looks to be.

He pushed me against the wooden table, bellowing in my face, "Who told you that you weren't pretty"?

He held my wrists in his hands, restraining me in such a manner that I could not move them. I scoffed as tears stained my face, " Professor, who would even care to see me naked? This must be some horrible prank. It looks like a video of me taking a shower in the university gym after dance practice. But honestly, I don't get why it was even taken. You can see how unappealing my body looks".

I continued to sniffle in silence, till I was yanked back by the back of my hair. My eyes met his head on as he proclaimed rather bluntly, "I would. I would care to see you naked. In fact, I called you to my room to tell you that I took the video. And if you ever want it deleted, never to be seen by any other person's eyes other than mine, you must do as I say".

I crumpled in resignation, back slouching , defeated. Why would he even do this? I never did anything to him to warrant this type of blackmail. But I met his gaze that glimmered with something warm. I couldn't name it yet. I felt his left arm curl around my waist, pressing me closer to him, my clothed clit pressed against the front of his trousers as I set on the desk. I croaked out blankly, " What do I need to do Professor. What should I do to get rid of this video? I don't understand why you took it in the first place. But what can I do to never have those shown to anyone else"?

A victorious smirk filtered onto his otherwise angelic face as his finger rubbed against my clothed clit , an unyielding metal ring prodding against my hardened bud. I tried not to moan as he whispered into my ear, "All you have to do is be mine. Let me have my way with you forever. That is all".

#bts x plus size reader #bts x reader #chubby reader #jimin x reader #plus size reader x jimin #chubby reader x jimin #blackmail #yandere jimiin #yandere jimin x chubby reader #bts #bts smut #jimin smut #bts x chubby reader #smut #y/n x jimin #y/n x bts

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baldursgat3 · 7 months

Text

Well I was bored so I did what everyone does and wrote a 3.5k word fanfiction and made a brand new blog to post it on. So.

Anyway that thing that Gortash did to his parents was pretty fucked up right? Oh hey Ascended Astarion what are you doing here?

gn Tav, cw for some allusions to some non-con-ish stuff, haven't even done an ascended run yet but it's fine also spawn Tav

He so rarely called on his ability to compel you, but you felt the sensation begin to creep at the back of your mind. It felt like a spider climbing up your brain stem to weave it's web inside your skull. "Astarion, please don't-" "You are going to watch and listen. Do you understand? You are going to learn what is expected of you. And until you have, you will be obedient and silent. Am I clear, my darling?" "Yes, my love."

It was only supposed to be temporary - a punishment for having escaped yet again. It didn't matter that you had every intention of returning as soon as the sun began to poke over the horizon, you had still found yourself cornered in the streets by your darling. The look of anger in his eyes only dampened by his annoyance.

"It's like you don't even try to listen to me, dearest." He had hissed, crowding you back against a wall. "Tell me how I'm supposed to keep you safe when you insist on sneaking around and frolicking off to the worst parts of the city in the dead of night."

"I'm sorry." You dropped your gaze to the ground. "I just- get so bored sometimes…" Maybe if you blame yourself, your own poor impulse control, maybe that would satisfy him.

Instead he just laughed. A short, almost incredulous chuckle. "Oh, you're bored. I see, well of course that's all right then. By all means, throw yourself to the wolves then, my love. Since you're bored."

He grabbed your hands in his, muttering a quick spell, and you were home. You watched as he opened his eyes again and his shoulders relaxed. You were here and safe beside him again and he could breathe once more.

But still, "This was the fourth time in less than a month. What do I have to do to make you understand?" Astarion's grip on your hands tightened.

"You could just let me go…" You mumbled bitterly before you could think any better of it. The instant the words escaped your mouth you had regretted them.

His eyes darkened and he pulled you in closer. He brought one hand up to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place. "We are not having this discussion again. You know you belong here."

"But if you would just let me out once in a while I wouldn't-"

"It only takes once, don't you get that?" He hissed, his fangs bared. "One person, just like me. Hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike. Do you understand how high profile you are? Do you not see other nobility out with their guards? They don't prowl the dingiest taverns they can find for good reason, my love."

"I can handle myself!" You snapped back. He was already angry, you were already screwed, how much worse could you possibly make it?

You watched countless emotions fly across his face before irritation settled. Truthfully, not the worst possibility. "I know that you're strong and capable. But it's been years since either of us have lived that kind of life. Those skills don't just stay sharp, you know that. You can hold your own against one, maybe two people. But what happens when you're surrounded? And you're alone, I don't know where you are, I can't help you. Do you not understand that I'm trying to protect you?" He spoke, almost as though he was trying to rationalize with a child.

In his defense you did huff like one. "So I'm meant to stay locked up here forever because you're afraid?" That was the wrong word to choose. The annoyed look fell into anger as he pulled you in even tighter.

"Yes." It was short and filled with a venom that shot a wave of fear down your spine. He so rarely called on his ability to compel you, but you felt the sensation begin to creep at the back of your mind. It felt like a spider climbing up your brain stem to weave it's web inside your skull.

"Astarion, please don't-"

"You are going to watch and listen. Do you understand? You are going to learn what is expected of you. And until you have, you will be obedient and silent. Am I clear, my darling?"

"Yes, my love." Were the words that came out of your mouth. They certainly weren't the ones you were intending, though. What do you mean? What are you talking about? What are you doing? All questions that were desperately trying to escape, but none came.

His face softened as he pulled his hand away from your neck to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with a gentle smile. "There we are. I love you, you know? So much. I just… I don't know what I'd do without you."

~*~*~

For something you found so horrifying, Astarion was remarkably calm about what he'd done to you. "As irritating and, honestly, pathetic as he was, Gortash did manage to strike me with a touch of inspiration." He had explained as you helplessly smiled back at him.

"The magic he used against his parents was… clever, I'll say. It was terribly cruel of him to leave them like that, trapped in their own minds forever. You have to understand, that's not what I'm doing." He looked so sad, suddenly. He grabbed your hand in both of his and held tight and you felt your face drop to match his emotions.

"I love you. Please, trust me. You don't know this life like I do. You're so- so kind. So trusting and wonderful and lovely. And it's going to get you killed. This is only temporary. I can keep you safe like this while you learn what you need to. This life is politics and swindling and scheming. It's not heroics and good deeds. One day- one day I swear we'll go back but for now this is what must be done. Please just… just trust that I know what I'm doing. And that I love you."

You felt the cobwebs clear for a moment, brushed aside to give you a chance to speak again. He was giving you a choice, though you weren't entirely sure what either outcome was meant to be. You did trust him though, you loved him. And maybe he was right. You had no idea really what the life of this caliber was like. He had been of nobility his entire life. "I trust you."

You felt the cobwebs fill your head again as he smiled, so gently, so sweetly. So why did it make your stomach turn?

~*~*~

He never gave you any sort of timeline. You had expected it to take a few months though. He was training you, shaping you into the perfect little accessory to attach to his hip. It wasn't always horrible, especially at first when he would clear the cobwebs away at night to discuss how you were feeling and what you were learning.

It did feel a bit demeaning. He was your partner not your mother, after all. But you could tell how relaxed he was now that he wasn't worrying about you so much. And it was always easier to learn by doing, even if it wasn't technically you doing anything.

Still, you saw the way you responded to other nobles when they asked you things you had no clue about. Truthfully, you found yourself hoping Astarion might just do this for every big event you went to. The idea of trying to remember all of these names and titles and schemes was daunting. It'd be easier to keep him happy if he was practically speaking through you and it took a huge pressure off your shoulders.

It was when the people left that you began to have a problem. Even when it was just the two of you alone. He allowed the compulsion to drop less and less frequently. Some days you wondered if he'd forgotten it was there at all. You hated when he would spend his time talking with this fake perfect version of you.

Jealousy. It must be. And you felt so stupid for it too. It was still you, your voice and body. And, honestly, half the time the responses this fake you gave were the exact same ones you would've given anyway. So what did it matter so much?

It was frustrating not being able to control your own body. You missed being able to reach out and grab his hand whenever you wanted. There were a lot of things you missed. Most things, actually.

You missed kissing him. It's not that he didn't kiss you like this, or that you couldn't feel it. When he kissed you it just felt awful. Your stomach would churn and all you wanted to do was pull away. You honestly didn't even feel that terrible the time he had forgotten you were in there while you had sex. (Something he had apologized for profusely, long after you'd forgiven him.)

But the kisses were so tender and sweet and they were for someone who wasn't you. It was this fake you that he made for himself and you just couldn't stand it. Next time he dusted you off, you had made up your mind to ask him to stop.

If only you'd made that decision a touch sooner. It had already been over a week since you were last freed from your compulsion. As the days ticked by, you grew less and less confident that you would get the chance to ask.

It has been months already. You weren't entirely sure, but it must've been closing in on a year since he'd first started this project. It didn't feel like it but it was winter again so it must've been.

You kept hoping, every night when you went to bed you silently begged Astarion to hear you again, to let you out of your mind. He never seemed to hear you. Instead he would pepper you in kisses and speak to you like nothing was different.

Weeks turned to months. Every day that went by without being in control of your own body was beginning to take a toll on your mind.

Astarion's touch became less and less welcome until you wanted to shriek and tear at your own skin every time you felt him near you. You screamed and begged and agonized, hoping that if you could just yell loud enough maybe he would hear you.

He had forgotten about you. You became more and more certain with every evening spent on your back for him now. The first time he'd used you like that he was devastated. The idea that he'd had a change of heart was somehow even more crushing than being forgotten. You couldn't entertain that idea.

It made more sense that he'd forgotten you anyway. It had been so long, he'd gotten so used to you like this. He couldn't hear you screaming and thrashing inside your head. And when you were alone, he truly hadn't changed that much about you. Perhaps some of the comments you made were a touch closer to something he would say, but that really only served to push the real you further from his mind.

You had to accept it. You were trapped in your own mind, helpless against the man you adored. You were angry and frightened and so, so desperate to be free. It ached in your chest every time words that weren't yours escaped your lips. You raged every time you felt his touch on your skin. His kiss left you longing to tear out your hair and shriek until your throat burned.

You were truly, utterly helpless.

~*~*~

It was summer now. You were pretty sure, anyway. It was a bit hard to tell exactly when spring ended and summer began when you never saw the sun.

Astarion was hosting a rather large event that evening. You weren't entirely sure what it was for or why. You had stopped bothering to pay attention to these things once you realized it was no longer about learning how to engage with high brow politics. The you that had control would handle it anyway.

You were dressed in a lovely ball gown, a favorite of Astarion's. He liked the wide hoop skirt, it kept people from getting too close to you.

It was like any other stupid high end party. Food that was so decadent and rich you could barely eat any of it. Most of it would be thrown away. What a waste. One of the few thoughts you had as you essentially dissociated through the party.

Your body picked up a small hors d'oeuvre, delicately biting the bite sized snack in two. It was far too unbecoming to pop the entire thing into your mouth, despite it being shaped for exactly that.

"Any good?" A voice from behind you startled you and your false self out of your tiny food related thoughts.

The fake you recognized him first, as your mind still tried to bring the world back into focus. You felt yourself lunge forward, hoop skirt be damned, as you threw your arms around the person in front of you now. Somewhere in the back of your mind you found it extremely strange that fake you would be allowed to do such a thing.

When you finally pulled back, you were present enough to see who you were hugging and it, truthfully, made even less sense. "Gale!" You heard yourself as you bounced excitedly on the balls of your feet. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, it's a big event isn't it?" He grinned, patting you on the shoulder. "Should the famed Wizard of Waterdeep not receive such an illustrious invitation?" He laughed, taking a small step towards the food table. "No, Wyll was invited. He brought Karlach as a plus one. She told me and I pestered Astarion to invite the rest of us. He didn't tell you?"

That sounded about right. You couldn't help laughing. Gods you'd missed them all. "He didn't, but everyone else is here too?"

"Well, no. I got them an invite, that's the best I could do. Shadowheart and Halsin are around here somewhere. Who knows about anyone else." He said, filling up a plate with tiny snacks. A small part of you was happy at least someone was eating like a normal person.

"Come on then, and fill a plate for Karlach would you? I said I'd bring them all back something." Gale smiled back at you as he began filling another plate, presumably for Wyll.

"Have you seen Astarion yet?" Oh, that was a good question actually. At least fake you was thinking about your love.

Gale nodded, picking up the second plate. "He met us when we first got here. Honestly, I expected you to be with him. Barely had a moment to talk, though, before he got pulled away."

"Precisely why I'm not with him." You laughed, picking up the plate you'd made for Karlach. "An event like this is going to have him pulled twenty directions. I'm supposed to stay over here to watch over things but-" But? Fake you didn't argue with buts. How strange. The power of friendship perhaps? Or Astarion's attention being so split with such a large event was allowing even the perfect version of you he hand crafted to slip through the cracks. Either way, you weren't arguing. "Well, it'll be fine to slip away for a moment." Strange.

You followed Gale back to where Wyll and Karlach were standing just a bit too close as they chatted. They were both dressed to the nines, Wyll in a well fitted suit with a short, ornamental cape draped over one shoulder. Karlach was putting him to shame though, in a floor length strapless dress with a slit that traveled halfway up her thigh. You'd never taken Karlach for a dress person and, watching the way she awkwardly moved in it, you'd assume you were right. That didn't stop anyone with eyes from stopping and staring as she walked by. You even found your own gaze lingering a bit too long. Very strange.

"Hey, soldier!" Her voice rang out loud and clear as soon as she spotted you. Before you knew it, you were wrapped in her arms and lifted off the floor with ease. You couldn't help laughing as you carefully tried to keep the plate of food balanced.

Your skirt swished back into place as she set you down, beaming at you. "It's been way too long. Just because you can't go out in the sun doesn't mean Astarion has to lock you away in the dungeon." She laughed again. If only she knew.

"I was surprised I even got an invite." Wyll chuckled, stepping closer. "I don't play his political games, but I'm happy to enjoy some good food with some old friends." Gods he was so sweet. If you didn't know just how genuinely he meant it, you wouldn't trust him.

"Well, I'm certainly happy to see all of you!" It's been so lonely cooped up in here, I've missed you so much. Your lungs longed to scream out to them, to beg them for help.

It was enough they'd taken you away from your post, you knew it was too much to ask for your voice to break through as well. It didn't stop you from wishing with your whole heart for your friends to hear you.

Instead, you had a pleasant conversation about what they've all been up to. Stories of the adventures Karlach and Wyll had been on, an anecdote about Tara that made everyone laugh. Halsin and, later, Shadowheart found their way into the circle, bringing their own stories. It would've been lovely were you not begging to be heard.

Karlach noticed first, of course she did. You saw it happen. You weren't sure what did it exactly but, as you were speaking, you saw her brow knit together. She watched you a bit closer. Fake you must've noticed as well, you felt yourself straighten up a bit more, talk a bit gentler.

It wasn't enough, she'd clocked something and now she was watching. The conversation shifted away from you but her gaze lingered. The you in control longed for her to look away, while the real you screamed for her attention. I'm here, please see me, gods please hear me!

You felt her watching you for at least ten minutes before she leaned in to whisper something to Gale. Oh gods, now he was watching you like a hawk. They both knew something was wrong but they couldn't tell what.

If you hadn't been watching them, you would've missed the small hand gesture and whispered incantation from the wizard. You didn't feel anything but clearly he didn't get what he wanted.

Then you felt it. A small tingling sensation in your head then, suddenly, it was as though the doors to your mind had been thrown open and you felt yourself recoil as though sunlight was pouring in. He was digging into your thoughts.

"Gale!?" You called out desperately in your head, watching as he blinked in shock. The gentle, practiced smile that remained stuck on your face completely opposed to the desperation he heard in your voice.

"Are you all right?" He asked, out loud, much to everyone else's confusion. Particularly Halsin's, who had been actively speaking when Gale interrupted.

"Gale, please! You can hear me?" Your mind screamed.

"Oh, me? Oh, I'm fine." Your mouth replied.

"I can hear you. What's going on?" Gale pressed forward, ignoring the questioning looks he received.

"Um, Gale-" Wyll had started but the wizard was disinterested in interrupting whatever connection he had with you right now.

"Gale, gods, Gale." What could you even say? You had to say something. But how could you explain this? You knew they all disapproved of the way Astarion kept you squirreled away but they never argued because you were both happy and it really wasn't exactly their business. But this? This was different. This was… well. Fucked up.

He was smart though. It didn't exactly take much to put two and two together. Two different answers, two different versions of his dear friend. "What happened? Does Astarion know about this?"

You would've flinched had you been in control of your body. "Really, Gale, I'm all right, I'm not sure what you're talking about." You still smiled warmly.

"He- he's the one who did this but-!" You panicked as you watched a darkness take over Gale's face.

"Okay, does anyone know what's going on right now?" Wyll tried to interject again, only to be met with a misdirected scowl from Gale.

"It would seem our resident vampire lord has gone a bit too far." He practically spat. He had never been overly fond of your relationship in the first place. You were never sure but Astarion was certain it was jealousy - partially why you were so surprised to see Gale had been invited at all.

"Use your words, Elminster." Karlach folded her arms, already impatient to know what was happening.

Gale turned back to you as his anger turned towards sadness. "I don't know how, but he's puppeting them. This-" He waved a hand at your calm, relaxed smile. "This is all fake. I can hear them, they're trapped in there."

"Gale, please, don't get angry, please." You were trying to do damage control now. You didn't want this to break bad for Astarion, you just wanted to be let out. "I- I just think he might've forgotten me, if you just-"

"Forgot you!? What do you mean forgot you? How long have you been in there?"

"Gale! Please don't cause a fuss, please. This- this doesn't have to affect the night. He just needs a reminder, that's all, it's all right."

"How long."

"I… I don't know. Over a year…" You knew saying that would be a bad idea. The rage took over his face again, while the rest of your companions watched with varying levels of confusion.

"Over a year." His voice was flat, his typical affectations and charming cadence gone. "Would someone be so kind as to request the presence of Lord Ancunín? I think we need to have quite the conversation."

#bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #sorry fkdjskdjdkfhsl

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 month

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ELINOR SOS

I am the student anon from a while ago who was concerned because my prof made an oblique comment about "knowing when people use AI on their assignments"

I often collaborate with a friend in the course on homework assignments (something that is encouraged so long as you name your collaborators when you turn in) and i found out recently that she DOES use chatgpt sometimes. we'll each work on papers separately and then compare ideas and make edits if either of us included something the other missed. i never copy her words but i'll incorporate her ideas if i feel they're useful.

this brings me to 3 questions:

1) does the prof know she uses AI, and does the prof by extension believe that i do, since i name her as a collaborator?

2) is there a way for me to kindly tell my friend i think this is ludicrous behavior and cut it the fuck out

3) is there a way for me to distance myself from my friend in the eyes of the prof without seeming like a total snitch or hardass or what have you

thanks in advance !!!!!!

prev anon:: I MISSPELLED YOUR NAME I AM SORRY elanor elanor elanor so sorry

LMAO you're fine, no worries!

Hmm, okay, so some of this is outside my wheelhouse as a lecturer the other side of the world - this is not to say I'm not going to share my opinions regardless, but just a reminder that I am not, for example, an authority on taking friends to task for using ChatGPT

Anyway the easiest (and most advisable) answer to all of this is to stop collaborating. Up until this point, you're fine, because you simply didn't know - if you get accused of anything you have plausible deniability, because you literally didn't know. It's worth pointing out, though, that you would probably already have been given a formal warning or taken to an academic misconduct board by now if you were suspected on past work - at least, that would be the case over here. We don't hang about if we have suspicions.

Whereas, from this point onwards, if you turn in a collaborated piece and she then gets accused of plagiarism, you are now in a position of having willingly collaborated with a known plagiarist, which opens you up to questions like "So you knew there was a chance that her inputs could have been Chat-generated and you used them in your own work anyway?" and that's a lot harder to defend against.

As to the rest of it, though:

No, probably not. She'd likely have been called on it by now, as would you.

Hmm. I think I personally would approach this with "I'm so sorry, my anxiety is through the roof and I just don't feel comfortable collaborating with you because you use ChatGPT. My brain is now irrationally terrified that it's somehow obvious to the professor and imploding from the pressure." And then if she wants to get into it further, you can discuss the issues with it. HOWEVER mileage can and will vary on that strategy - that's how I would phrase it to avoid her feeling judged, see, but depending on how good a friend she is and a whole bunch of other factors, you might prefer to go BITCH WHY DON'T YOU JUST MARRY THE FUCKING ROBOT IF YOU LOVE IT SO MUCH and block her number. Or, you know. Something along the scale.

Just stop collaborating. Nothing more needed.

The other thing I will say is that I think you're probably assuming more surveillance and oversight from your professor than actually exists. It IS obvious when you find a Chat-generated section, but I can't help but wonder if telling a class "We know that some of you are using it, btw. We won't say who but we can tell. So stop doing that." is actually a lie designed to scare compliance before it becomes a problem. Like. That feels like a lie to me. That feels like "Say it now and then they won't try it." Because if they actually knew, there would be formal proceedings, not oblique little warnings.

Anyway! I hope this is useful.

#asks #chatgpt #the professional world of careers and tasks

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tieronecrush · 8 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter thirteen: hot blood & heavy memories

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 9.4k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), feeling familial and self-pressure, established relationship, spanish cause joel is latino, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, soft joel, possessive joel, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, angst, ARGUING!!!! but petty arguing, and probably more!

a/n: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. life just hit me with a bunch of shit and writing fell to the wayside but here this is, the penultimate chapter! final one should be coming next week <3 thank you all for the love on this fic! and thank you bestie @northernbluess for beta reading <3 love ya!

Joel turned over this morning, his arm reaching out across the bed only to be met with the feeling of cool sheets against his skin. Sunlight blinded his eyes as he slowly opened them, adjusting to the light flooding in from the pulled curtains. A groan rumbled his sleep-coated voice awake, his ears waiting to hear you from the bathroom, gloating about how you managed to wake up before him.

Nothing ever came. He looked over his shoulder, the door to the bathroom wide open and the bedroom door left opened a crack. Glanced around with no sign of you, a wave of loneliness washed over him.

For a split second, his brain justified it all as a dream. Told himself that when he wakes up — actually wakes up — you’d be sleeping there next to him, curled up under his arms, waking with that smile of yours that blinds him more than the morning light. He’d run his hands along your spine as you elongate in a stretch, your fingers immediately finding his messy curls to push them back into place. It’s what happens every morning that he has with you. This one should have been no different.

But it was, there’s no you to wake up to, already gone from the bed and possibly the entire house, retreated to your space to give you and him some. Floods of memories from late last night came back to the forefront, him standing in the middle of the living room, your face wounded and confused. The thought of hurting you made his skin crawl, but the replay of the words spewed back and forth has ice formed in his chest again, shutting down the part of him who would do anything to make it better. He hates that about him, the part of him that finds himself right in every situation, the part of him that tells his mind that he’s protecting you, your life you’ve built together — he knows it’s for himself.

He knows, in his gut, that he’s scared.

Maybe he should have heard you out more, but fear overcame him — fear of the unknown, fear of loss, fear of him fucking up the best thing that has happened for him since Sarah was born.

But he knows he won’t admit that, won’t let doubt back into your relationship. There’s been enough of that, and he wants everything to stay as it was.

He’s not a man of change.

When he descended the stairs, there was a sharp ache in his ribs, pausing on his way down to grab at his side. Body anxious to find out if you had left entirely, the pain a reminder of his craving for you, a physical reaction to being apart.

The sound of your voice traveling from the kitchen to his ears was a relaxing balm, the ache dissipated the more he heard you speak to Sarah, laughing and excitedly discussing the plan for the aquarium.

Eagerness pricked his brain at that; the fact that you were still coming excited him. Maybe things would simply go back to normal today, that everything would be forgotten and he would be able to swallow the fear sitting in his throat.

God, was he wrong.

You woke that morning, Joel’s broad shoulders melted into the mattress and the expanse of his t-shirt-covered back met your eyes. Restless the whole night, never did you wake up to find him facing you, an arm slung over your side, or any movement to be closer.

Gnawing at you was the thought of simply brushing things under the rug, mending what was broken last night during the argument, and fixing things to make it all better.

If you make things copacetic, then maybe he would feel ready to tell your family faster?

The louder part of you — the one burning inside your gut and boiling your blood when you remember how he dismissed you the night before — told you to keep your mouth shut. That everything will only reach a breaking point if you continue on the path that you two are on.

Why does he get to decide the timeline of your relationship without any sort of discussion? You deserve the same respect and promise that you give to Joel.

God, what if he really isn’t ready for a future with you? What is holding him back?

You spent an hour laying in bed, fighting yourself back and forth between cleaning everything up between the two of you, agreeing to whatever Joel wanted to simply make it normal so you could enjoy the day, and standing staunch in your anger toward him and keeping your ground, you know that your feelings are valid.

To distract yourself, you slipped out of bed, leaving Joel behind, and wandered downstairs to make some coffee for yourself and breakfast for Sarah. Not long after you got some pancakes started, the sound of tiny, lightweight steps descended the stairs. A mop of curls rounded the corner, Sarah with a bright smile on her face when you greeted each other good morning.

After you served up some pancakes for her, the heavy steps you recognize so well tumbled down the stairs, sending a wave of annoyance to your peaceful morning. You glanced up at Joel when he entered the kitchen, flicking your eyes to Sarah distracted by the book in her hands and the plate in front of her.

Joel approaches you to your side, standing slightly behind to reach over to the cabinet with the mugs in it. As he leaned over, his head turned and moved toward your cheek, lips pursed. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him and swerved out of the way, turning around to make your way over to the table to sit with Sarah.

God, does he think after last night he can waltz in here and try to kiss you good morning without any sort of apology first?

He’s got his head up his ass, clearly.

Coffee poured, Joel shuffled over to the table, sitting across from you with a long sigh. The rest of breakfast is filled with avoiding his attempts at touches, a hand across the surface, legs brushing underneath. Sarah told you both about what happened in her book and after, excitedly made a plan for the aquarium and what animals were must-sees.

Questions from Joel were answered with one word, his own attitude seeping into his voice with clipped answers given back to you. Sarah was none the wiser, or at least didn’t mention it, and you left shortly after your coffee was finished to change and shower at your own place.

The car ride to the aquarium was only filled with conversation that involved the younger Miller, your hands clasped together in your lap, and Joel’s own gripping the steering wheel. Tension in the cab of his truck was palpable between the two of you, thick with defiance for the other person.

If either of you were known as one thing, it was stubborn.

And stubbornness is what has brought the two of you to stand in front of an expansive wall of glass, a rainbow of tropical fish gliding through the deep blue water and coursing around growths of coral and seaweed, a few feet apart with Sarah pressing her hands against the glass and pointing out all of the fish she knows from Finding Nemo.

You hike the strap of your bag up onto your shoulder, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Joel shifts his weight back and forth on his feet, his own arms woven together against his chest. Even with quick glances, you can tell his jaw is clenched, his brow furrowed, shoulders taut and tense. With the last look toward him, you catch his stare, emotion unreadable.

His arms move to uncross, his feet shifting his weight forward in a step that seems like it’s coming toward you. In a flashing second, you’re moving away from his step, avoidance at the front of your mind while the glisten of water shines in your field of vision, tunneled around Sarah. You stand behind her, holding onto her shoulder while you listen intently to her spewing off facts about some of the fish.

With a look over your shoulder, Joel is across the room, reading about the coral reef habitat. Pulling your attention again, Sarah moves from under your touch, taking your hand and leading you toward her dad and onto the next. While the three of you are walking together, Sarah links you together holding both of your hands and tugging you toward one of her must-sees, the Beluga whales.

There’s a crowd in front of the smaller viewpoint into the tank, leaving you to stand and wait on the outskirts of the group. Joel’s shoulders slump, a huff of annoyance escaping his mouth as he rolls his head back with a quiet groan. The noises of frustration catch Sarah’s attention away from her attempts to sneak a peek at the adorably social animals.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” she inquires innocently.

The dramatics make you roll your eyes slightly, reaching a hand out to brush Sarah’s curls back as you say, “Don’t worry about it, Sare Bear, Daddy’s in a grumpy mood today.”

The words taste bitter in your mouth, slicing malice in your voice as you turn to aim the comment toward Joel instead of Sarah. Locking your stare with his deep brown eyes, squinting in challenge to you. His head tilts to the side slightly, and you hold his glare with your own, waiting for his own flay of you.

Joel rolls his eyes, shaking his head slowly before he turns to Sarah, plastering a tight, comforting smile on his face.

“Why are you grumpy, Daddy? You get to see all the cool fish today and sharks and dolphins. It’s fun!” Sarah grins, satisfied with her pitch for him to start having fun.

“I’m alright, mija, and I’m excited to learn about all the animals from you,” Joel explains before he turns his head toward you, “I think I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed — right, Mari?”

Fucking smart ass.

You bite your tongue, ignoring the pointed comment, and keep your eyes trained ahead, pointing to an opening where Sarah can sneak in to see the belugas. It leaves you and Joel standing alone again, an opportunity arising for a moment of confrontation for him.

“Is it gonna be like this all day?” he questions, irritation evident in his tone and his body language — hands on his hips, one leg popped out to the side, and a scowl on his face.

“I don’t know, Joel. Why don’t you ask yourself that question? ‘Cause you have your own panties in a twist if I’m hearing you correctly.” You turn away from him, focusing ahead again on the window into the tank, rolling your shoulders back and standing straight.

Mumbling under his breath, Joel relaxes his stance and watches Sarah, “Christ, you’re gettin’ on my nerves.”

That’s rich coming from him. He’s the one with such an attitude, he’s the one who was acting like a child last night, shutting down the conversation so he didn’t have to hear your side and then stomping off when you pressed on.

And now he’s saying that you’re getting on his nerves? For not letting everything be brushed under the rug?

Doubt worms its way into your mind while the three of you continue to explore the aquarium. Space stays physically between you and Joel, the only fleeting touches when you get pushed together in crowds walking around or when Sarah makes the two of you get together for a picture on your camera in front of one of the tanks. No affection is exchanged, only a grudge simmering among you both.

He watches you with Sarah, walking ahead of him with your hand in hers, allowing her to run ahead and leave you behind. The expression on your face turns sour every time he saddles up next to you, alighting the flames of his frustration yet again.

“Can you stop acting like you’re in such a foul mood for fucks sake? We’re at the aquarium, should be enjoyable,” he grumbles to you, clenching his jaw and puffing his chest out.

“I am having a good time, Joel. Maybe you’re projecting your pissy mood onto me.”

Of course, now you’re denying it. He’s spent virtually the last three years with you, and you don’t think that he knows how to read you?

You’re being so unreasonable. Not even giving him a chance to make it up to you — not even letting him greet you this morning and try to make it better.

“My pissy mood? You’re the one who’s avoiding me and can’t even keep the disgust off your face when I stand next to you. And to add to it—”

“Enough.”

The conversation screeches to a halt there when you interrupt him, Sarah walking up with a bright smile on her face. The two of you lead off in another direction, toward the dolphin show with the trainers that you booked in extra for Sarah to see. At the time, it seemed like a great idea, but now, he’s praying that somehow it doesn’t happen so he can get to the end of this day faster.

Shuffling along the entrance path along with the other attendees, Sarah stands in front of you while Joel stands behind. His eyes bore holes in the back of your head, replaying the back and forth from the night before, the sinking feeling of waking up alone.

Are you ever going to give him a chance to talk to you about everything, or are you going to stew until you’re content?

Joel finds a free spot on the stepped seating, seeing over all the heads scrambling to find a spot. He leads the three of you up, centered for an ideal view. The arrangement ends up with Joel in the middle when he lets Sarah into the aisle first, broad-shoulder bumping into you when you sit next to him. You place your bag in your lap, toying with the clasps to keep your hands busy.

In a moment like this, you would normally lean into his side, your warmth blanketing him and you would be giggling with Sarah about something while your hand rests on his thigh or intertwined with his.

There’s a chill in the space you have attempted to create, his side feeling bare with the breeze of AC. He sits, focusing his hardened stare on the pool with trainers showing off the traits and quirks of the animals.

In his right ear, he hears your voice under your breath, “Would it kill you to throw on a smile about the fucking dolphins?”

So that answers his question. You’re going to stew.

Joel works his jaw side to side, a sarcastic smirk donning his face as he directs his words toward you at his side, “I am smiling.”

A laugh cuts through clapping from everyone surrounding you, your hand patting his denim-clad thigh in fake consolation.

“If that’s smiling, you’ve got a bad case of resting bitch face.”

The place on his leg where you touch burns for your hand to press against it again, and he clenched his fist in an attempt to will away the desire.

It’s easier with the anger simmering in his chest, more so at himself rather than you. Yes, you’re getting on his nerves, so fucking much today, but he also wishes he could go back to last night and just hear you out. Even if he didn’t really want to hear about it, it would be better than what he’s ended up in now.

He keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the show, putting a smile on his face when Sarah looks at him, pointing out and repeating everything that happened. It makes you laugh, sharing a grin with Sarah across from you, and the sound quells his annoyance for a moment.

The feeling comes right back in a different way when the show finishes, with everyone funneling down the stairs to get out, the three of you get caught in a jam. Joel huffs a breath out at the lack of spatial awareness from those surrounding him, annoyance rushing to the forefront of his mind yet again. You’re in front of him, gripping Sarah’s shoulders to keep her tethered, and the pressing of everyone all together brings you a mere inches away, Joel’s hand hovering over your waist out of habit.

As the crowd moves again, you direct Sarah to walk forward when a grown man pushes through some of the bodies, colliding with your side and causing you to stumble and nearly topple over Sarah. His hands immediately catch you by your waist, righting you to stand up straight and leave you with Sarah as he follows a few steps in the open wake of the asshole. The same feeling of anger sears in his chest, hurling it toward anyone who deserves it, even wanting to hurl it at himself, for even just a few minutes.

“Hey! Watch it, man! You just ran into my girlfriend and my daughter. Don’t need to be a jerk, everyone is trying to get out at the same place,” his voice carries over everyone, his hand landing on the guy’s shoulder and clamping down, “I think you and me are gonna wait here nicely. Until everyone gets out in front of us, it’s only polite, right?”

His smile is loaded with intimidation, keeping things light enough to keep attention away after the initial confrontation. You and Sarah walk hand in hand, and he hears a whisper from you as you pass, “Thanks.”

Fingers brushing against your back again when you walk away, he waits until the last person is out of the pathway before letting the man go, choice words exchanged with grumbles before Joel goes to find the two of you, standing in front of the nearby penguin exhibit. There’s a staff member at the edge of the habitat, lecturing about the little suit-and-tie animals when he approaches, standing near to you without reaching out again.

You shift anxiously next to him, feeling his stare at the side of your face. Ice-cold gaze stays trained on the aquarium staff talking to the small group gathered, Sarah has made her way to the front to listen intently and peer over the glass wall at the fuzzy younglings waddling around.

“And you know what is such a fun fact about penguins?” the lecturer asks rhetorically, “Penguins have long been upheld as an example of romance in the animal kingdom. When they pair off to breed, those pair bonds can last a lifetime. Just like so many amazing human relationships!”

Ha, of course, this is the spiel that you get stuck listening to with Joel standing right next to you. Out of all the times when you could have visited the aquarium, it happens when the two of you are fighting about exactly that — if it’s going to be for life.

Without a chance to bite your tongue, under your breath, loud enough for Joel to hear, you mutter, “Do you think they tell their parents right away?”

In your periphery, Joel’s head snaps to look directly at you, shoulders tensing, jaw clenching, and head shaking as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, gaping like a fish out of water. Before he can muster any response, the short lecture concludes, the staff member retreating through an ‘Employees Only’ door. Sarah bounds up to you both, grabbing your hands and dragging you to the front to look into the lives of the penguins.

“Look, come look!” Sarah leans against the glass panel, pointing over the top of it. Joel follows her finger to a small cluster of penguins, two adults and one little one, fluffy and grey. Turning over her shoulders to look at both of you one at a time, she giggles quietly and looks back at the animals, sharing her observation, “They’re just like us! Daddy, and then that one’s Posey and the little one is me!”

You’re better at reacting at the moment than he is, nodding along with a genuine smile for Sarah, always genuine when you’re with her, and asking her questions pertaining to all that she knows about penguins to shift the subject.

But Joel is stuck there, staring at the trio on the ice. They huddle together before one of the adult ones, the shorter one, the one that’s supposed to be you, waddles away to the edge and dives in. The little one eagerly trails after her, following suit while the larger adult, the one that is meant to be him — the father — waits for the pair to be together safely before he jumps in to join them.

A unit of three.

That’s what he’s got. What he wants. What he had?

Sarah’s observation replays in his mind, the reminder to him that it’s not only about him in all of this.

The two of you may be the ones fighting, maybe the ones attempting to stick it out over the other to avoid talking about everything and win, but it’s Sarah who has to watch it all happen. She’s already seen this when he was with Tiff, when she was a baby, but if it’s the same behavior of arguing and ignoring until someone caves, she’s definitely going to remember it now.

And she loves you so much. He couldn’t take being the reason she experiences more loss in her life. He saw what you leaving at the end of each summer did to her, and now, when you’ve been woven into their lives completely, how would she understand that ending?

He has to start thinking about her again, to put her needs first. And she needs someone like you in her life, even if this all ends with you not wanting to be in his.

Those thoughts consumed his mind for the rest of the day, continuing to give you your space, but at this point, it was because he was lingering back in slow steps while he thought back on this last summer with you, how it was the happiest he’s been, well, ever, and that it’s been the happiest he’s seen Sarah in a long time.

And no matter how you slice it, it all comes back to you.

Words sit in his throat when his truck pulls into his driveway in the evening. He climbs out to open Sarah’s door for her and tells her to run ahead inside. Rounding the car to where you’re standing at the passenger door, he sticks his hands in his front pockets, scuffing his boot across the concrete surface as he attempts to find what he needs to say.

Before he can speak, you do, exhaustion heavy in your tone, “I’m going to stay at home tonight. I think…Maybe we just need tonight to get some space after all that happened today.”

“Oh, um, yeah. Understood.” He nods curtly and turns away to walk to the front door, looking back and meeting your eyes as you do the same from his lawn.

“Um, would you say goodnight to Sarah for me, please?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell her, Mari ba—Night.” Joel watches as you turn around again, not looking back a second time while you traipse across to your lawn, wandering around the side to go to your own door. You disappear as you round the corner of your house, and at the last sliver of you waning from view, a dull pain aches in his chest.

Pressing a palm against his shirt, he drags himself inside and closes the front door behind him, turning to the sound when he hears Sarah’s voice before he sees her curls bouncing as she peers around from the staircase.

“Where’s Posey?”

“Oh, she’s gonna sleep at home tonight, Bug.”

Tossing his keys on the table, he turns back to his daughter and sees defeat wash over her face.

“Did Posey not have fun at the aquarium today?” Her voice is small when she asks, and the timidness hits the ache in Joel’s chest even harder.

He stammers out an answer, quick to explain away, “No, no, mija, of course, she had fun.”

Reaching a hand out to brush her hair away from her face, he bends down to be eye level with her standing a few steps up from the ground.

“I was worried. Especially cause she doesn’t usually go home right away, like, she stays with you, Daddy, and I thought maybe she wanted to go home cause she didn’t have fun and I feel like it would be ‘cause of me ‘cause I made her go with us cause I wanted her to go.”

Guilt draws acidic bile into his throat, drawing a sigh from his lips that he keeps quiet.

Of course, she isn’t stupid. She’s the smartest kid he knows, and he should have known that she would think something was going on. But her blaming herself is eating him alive, if he could only explain away everything to comfort her.

“Don’t you worry, Bug, Mari had tons of fun. She was jus’ tired after such a big day, y’know? I know she loved coming to the aquarium with you. She really likes spending time with you, mija.”

“I love having Posey around. She’s so cool, and she loves to hear about all my animal facts and all about my books. I love her!” Sarah beams, and Joel returns her smile with a tight grin, nodding as he comes to an agreement with one thing.

“I love her too, Bug.”

Sticky humidity is still thick in the air hours after the sun’s gone down. A spitting of stars litter the deep midnight blue sky. Moonlight and the warm, low glow of the back porch lights ripple across the surface of the pool water, blurring in your eyes as your stare unfocuses. Deep in thought and tunnel-visioned on the water, you don’t hear anything around you.

“What the hell are you staring at?”

The sound makes you jump, eyes focusing again with a few rapid blinks and heart rate pumping when you turn toward the side that the voice came from. Your brother, Chris, stares at you with an eyebrow raised and mouth tilted in confusion. A shake of your head grounds you fully, feeling the woven plastic material of the lounge chair against the skin of your legs exposed from your shorts. Seconds tick on with empty air hanging between the two of you, finally breaking through the noise in your head to answer him.

“Nothing, nothing. I was just staring.” You shrug and bend your knees to tuck your legs against your chest, swatting away a mosquito swarming around you.

“Okay…If you were starin’ at nothing, then you must’ve been thinkin’ about something. Or have you totally gone brain-dead?” Chris smirks as you laugh dryly at his poke, turning to the side when he takes a seat on the chair next to you.

Sometimes you hate how well he can read you. Why can’t he be the aloof and uncaring brother you always see on TV and in movies?

“Not brain-dead. Wish I could turn it off for a bit.”

“Well, can’t help you do that. But if it helps to unload any of the shit going on in there—” he gestures in circles around his head with one hand, “I’m happy to listen, sis.”

Something in the invitation, the open door that Chris has given you, parts the floodgates. Before you can second-guess it or overthink it, you’re spilling it all to your brother sitting across from you; the words continue, and it brings about that swirling mix of excitement and anxiety that stirs to life in your gut.

What is Joel going to say when he finds out you said something to Chris? What if this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back?

But it feels nice to be able to share — even the ugly stuff from the last two and a half summers, basically the last two and a half years. Part of you, of your life, has been kept secret from those closest to you and now you have finally made the decision, taken it all into your hands, and are saying something. Sharing how much you care, how much you love him.

A deep breath fills your lungs when nothing has been left unsaid, tears that went unnoticed through your recollection dry in ribbons against your cheeks. Chris sits there silently, his leg bouncing with nerves and eyes staring off as he drinks the information in. Another beat of cicadas chirping blankets the space in sound before he clears his throat and focuses his stare back onto you.

“I, uh, well, I think I knew, or I should say I had a feeling. I mean, not from the very beginning, but that first summer, you were like really sad going back to school and I have never seen you like that. And the only change was Joel being around,” Chris explains, fiddling with his fingers and silence overcomes the small bubble that the two of you created.

His words echo in your ears, replaying over and over until you can’t help but bark out a laugh, covering your mouth to muffle the uncontrollable sound. Tears from laughter wash away the evidence of sadness from minutes before, taking a moment to calm your breaths and wipe away the salty drops.

Shaking your head, a wide and incredulous smile on your face, you stare back at the light on the water and murmur, “God, I wish you could walk over to Joel’s and tell him that. Jus’ to give him a bit of a reality check. The longer we go on, the less slick we are going to become. And everyone, especially Mom and Dad, are gonna realize. I mean, you’re not even that observant and you had a feeling before we even were really together.”

Chris laughs quietly and shrugs nonchalantly, reaching an arm out to nudge you in your seat, “Y’know I would if you really wanted me to.”

You wave the offer off, looking over your shoulder to Joel’s house, the light from his bedroom peeking through the curtains. “Nah, we have to talk it out. I need to tell him all of what’s going on in here.”

Making the same gesture as he did, hand circling your head, Chris stands up and nods curtly. One of his hands finds the top of your head, patting it in the smallest of affections, “My other offer is to kick Joel’s ass if you want me to.”

“Oh, yeah? Think you could take him?”

“I know I could. ‘Specially if he’s being a jackass to my sister.”

Another shake of your head, and the first genuine and gentle smile of the last few days, close the conversation, eyes meeting Chris’s as your mouth ticks up in a soft smile, “Thanks, little brother. Love ya.”

“Any time, older sister…” he moves toward the stairs up to the deck and the sliding door to the main house, turning around halfway to add, “For what it’s worth if y’all can figure this out, I think he’d be lucky to have you. He’d be stupid to not make it work, but I think Joel’s a pretty smart man.”

“I’d like to think so, too.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, mija? Qué paso?” Joel glances in the rearview mirror as he comes to a stoplight. He left the worksite early to pick up Sarah from camp, ready to head home and find something else to occupy his mind until he ends up in bed alone and thinking about you.

Sarah meets his eyes in the reflection from her place in the backseat, grinning and batting her eyelashes, “Can Posey come over tonight? I want to show her the new pattern I learned for friendship bracelets. I think she would be so good at it, and maybe we could make some for each other. Do you think you can ask her to come hang out?”

Joel takes a long inhale before exhaling in a sigh, easing up the brake when the light switches to green. He thinks for a beat, the thought of you not even bothering to answer the message he would send to ask crossing his mind quickly before he dismisses it.

You wouldn’t do that. Not if it’s about Sarah.

You would come, and you would listen all about her day at camp, and you would make bracelets with her and watch whatever new TV show she’s obsessed with, and—

You would just be there. You’ve always been there.

Agreeing to ask, Sarah continues her discussion of what Katie did at camp while they were playing kickball for the rest of the drive home. Once she gets settled and occupied in her bedroom, Joel paces the kitchen, writing, deleting, and rewriting a handful of texts to you.

None of them seem right. And even if they did, there’s not a high chance he’ll be able to bring himself to actually send it.

That logic is why he is finding himself with his cell phone pressed against his ear, dial tones with your number on the screen reverberating against his eardrum.

Fuck, what if you don’t answer and he has to leave a message? He has no idea what to say.

What if you do answer?

His anxious spiraling screeches to a halt when the ringing stops and a shuffle comes over the line before he hears your voice.

“Hello?”

He takes a second too long before he scrambles to return your greeting, his legs carrying him back and forth in front of the kitchen cabinets. “Um, hey, hi, Mariposa.”

“Hi, Joel.”

Your voice curling around his name relaxes his shoulders, a breath of fresh air to hear that again, even if the last time was only just over a day ago.

“Did you…Hold on, sorry—” distantly, he hears you speaking to your nanny kid, catching himself smiling when he hears you being so nurturing.

Once you’re back on the phone, you ask, trailing off as you wait for him to answer, “Did you need something or…?”

“Oh, no. Not need, and not me. Sarah asked me today on the way home from camp if I would ask you to come over to hang out,” he cringes at how he sounds, “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to—”

“I’ll come over. Is after seven alright? I have a late night nannying tonight.”

Joel stops in his path, a warm, oozing feeling spreading inside at the thought of you around again. He keeps his voice as level as possible, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm.

“Seven’s great, Mari. We’ll see you then, I’m sure Sare will be real excited,” he takes a beat before adding, “D’you, would you maybe want to talk after Sarah heads to sleep?”

Your sigh comes through his receiver, deflating his spirit the smallest bit.

“Yeah, that’s—I think it would be good to talk.”

“Good, good…Um, guess I’ll see you in a few hours then?”

“See you later, Joel.”

The next words hang on the top of his tongue, his brain hesitating for a handful of heart beats before they spill out.

“Love you.”

Dead air crackles in the speaker, and for a moment Joel thinks the call must have dropped.

“Love you too,” you return quietly, a wash of awkwardness coating the interaction before the two of you say your goodbyes again and hang up.

Three friendship bracelets later, and two rerun episodes of Sarah’s latest favorite show, it’s time for Sarah to head to sleep.

“G’head and say goodnight to Mari,” he nods toward you on the couch and Sarah walks over, flopping into your open arms and giggling quietly with you. Wrapping your arms around her in a tight squeeze, you kiss the side of her head and let her go.

“Night, sweet pea. Have a good sleep,” you smile softly at her as she stands up from the couch.

“G’night, Posey. Love you!” Sarah calls back as she runs over to climb upstairs, leaving you on the couch as your eyes find Joel’s in an instant.

You call out your own reply as quick as you can after the initial surprise, “Love you too!”

An involuntary grin spreads across your face, and he matches it, shrugging and opening his mouth as if to say something before he hesitates and follows Sarah up the stairs. Joel walks her up, waiting for her to brush her teeth before she gets into bed. He leans over, brushing back her hair from her face with a gentle smile and kissing her forehead.

“Goodnight, Bug. Dulces sueños (Sweet dreams),” Joel speaks low, reaching up to turn off her bedside lamp.

“Night, Daddy. Is Posey gonna pick me up from camp tomorrow? She hasn’t in a couple of days.”

Joel pauses, swallowing and looking at his daughter curled up in bed. His stomach turns as he has a final thought on everything regarding you. That even if he’s afraid of reality coming and crashing into you both completely, he needs to accept it. That you two can work through it together, but he can’t let you go for his sake and especially Sarah’s sake.

He loves you, so much, and there’s not a future he wants to have without you in it.

He wants you there for all the good days and bad, all the rest of Sarah’s milestones to celebrate with him. Her growing up, getting to high school, her first date, her graduation, her college experience. Everything.

All he wants is to have you around, plain and simple. No matter what comes along with that, he has to be ready for it cause he certainly isn’t ready to lose you.

“I’m not sure yet, mija. I’ll talk to her and tell you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.” Sarah nestles further into her bed, curling the blanket under her chin and closing her eyes. Joel shuts out the lamp, walking to her door and looking back at her falling asleep.

“Te quiero, mija.”

“I love you too, Daddy.”

Closing the door quietly, he takes a breath at the top of the stairs, attempting to gather his thoughts. He paces small circles in the hallway, clasping his fingers into a fist and releasing it repeatedly. Tenson builds in his chest as anxiety pumps in his veins, lately it feels as natural as his blood circulating his body. Treads of his even steps leave footprints in the carpet, another deep breath taken before he descends the stairs and walks into the living room again.

Eyes finding you, he combs over your profile, down to your legs curled up underneath you on the sofa, watching whatever sitcom rerun was on. At the sound of his heavy steps, you turn toward him, pressing your lips into a flat line as you shift your position in acknowledgement. Joel’s steps stammer as he searches for a seat — the armchair feels much too far away from you, the pull he feels never dulled throughout your days arguing, and the spot next to you seems too close, not wanting to push the limits of getting you to stay and talk things out. Strangely, he settles on clearing one side of the hefty wooden coffee table, sitting in the empty space to be across from you.

Just close enough, but a comfortable amount of space between.

“Joel, what are you doing?” you ask as you sit up, the slightest hint of a smile on your face. He knows he probably looks ridiculous, all broad shoulders and sturdy legs fitting in the space between the couch and the table.

“Um, I didn’t know where to sit,” he answers honestly, shrugging with a soft chuckle, “The chair seemed too far, and I didn’t think you’d want me right next to you on the couch so…coffee table.”

A genuine giggle slips out of your mouth, your hand reaching up to cover your mouth. A grin lifts one side of his mouth, tension slowly dissolving from his chest, the warmth of the interaction melting the ice between the two of you. A shake of your head and returning your hand to your lap, you take a breath to collect yourself.

“You’re so weird. But I get the logic…” Your nerves show in the way your lacing and unlacing your fingers together, working your bottom lip between your teeth.

“So…” Joel starts, trailing off as he locks his eyes with yours.

“So?” you return, right eyebrow raising in curiosity.

“So, talking.”

“That is what we are doing, yes, Joel. Well, sort of,” you huff out a laugh again, the action lighting up your irises even in the dim, warm lighting.

“Sorry, sorry, I just—I have things I want to say but saying them is proving difficult.” Joel runs his hand over his face, sighing and curling his shoulders into his chest. “First things first, I’m sorry, Mari. I shouldn’t have dismissed you that night, I should have let you say your piece. And then I really shouldn’t have tried to act like nothing happened and then having an attitude with you at the aquarium. If anything, you were completely justified in giving me shit, I deserved it, I deserve all of it and more with the way I ignored your feelings. I’m so sorry, Mariposa.”

Silence falls over the room as he sits up straight, holding his breath as he awaits anything in response from you. Wringing his hands together, he reels in his mind over what you could say, what you could do.

Will you let him back in or will you just tell him it’s over? Is tonight going to go well, or sort of well, or be the worst night?

Joel is pulled out of his thoughts when your hands stretch across the gap, covering his own and stilling them in their anxious motions. His eyes flick to your face, a knowing look making him slip his hands from each other, turning one over and taking yours in his.

“You can take a deep breath, Joel. I know you’re spiraling about the worst case scenario, but I don’t want that. I promise.” You shoot him a comforting smile and give him a squeeze of his hand. “Thank you, for the apology. I feel like I owe you one too, mostly for the penguin comment…”

Joel laughs when you wince, head shaking back and forth, “That was a good line, darlin’, I won’t accept an apology for that. That was completely justified.”

“Oh my god, shush. Let me finish,” you swat away his response and continue, your hand still in his, “I feel like…What I wanted to tell you that night was that it makes me feel like you don’t want to be a part of my life, when you keep saying you’re not ready to tell my family. I love being in your life, I love Sarah and I love Tommy, as annoying as he is sometimes. And I love you, J. I love you so much, which is why it hurts so much when I have to keep this a secret from the people closest to me. I want them to know you as my Joel, not just neighbor Joel. I feel like all of this is supposed to tell me that maybe you don’t want to like…solidify everything with me. To have the future completely open for us.”

“No, baby, no. I don’t — Fuck, I feel so stupid. I want everything with you, I don’t want a future that doesn’t have you there, at my side or helping me through all the shit that life throws at us. I love you so much, Mari baby. You’re the best thing to come into my life since Sarah was born, and well, didn’t let her go and I’m not lettin’ you go. I just…I get so scared when I think about telling your family. I don’t know what their reactions are gonna be, I want to be exactly who they want for you, but I don’t feel like I can ever be what I think you deserve, so how are they supposed to feel? I guess it’s like we have still a sliver of something that is just ours, and I am terrified of taking that final step and fucking it all up. I can’t disappoint the people who love you, and I’ll be damned if I let you down. But I feel like I’m already fucking it up. And I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re not fucking things up, J. Yeah, you annoyed the shit out of me cause your head was up your ass, but that isn’t reason for me to give up all that we have built together.” Your free hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, searching his eyes before you continue. “They’re going to love you. They already do love you, baby.”

“That’s as their friendly neighbor, not the man who’s been secretly with their daughter for years,” Joel huffs and leans into your touch.

“I’m serious, they are going to love you as my man because you love me and you treat me right. Most times.” A wink brings the slightest smile to his face, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. “What if…what if we say we tell them by the end of summer? You can take a bit to get used to the idea, and we can figure out how to do it, and then we’ll have nothing else to worry about by the time Sarah starts school again and life gets stressful.”

Nodding, he smiles tenderly and leans in closer, slowly dropping from the coffee table to kneel in front of you. Joel brushes his fingers along your cheekbone, down to your jaw before he holds the side of your neck.

“I can get behind that idea, Mariposa. I don’t want to hold us back any longer.”

“You weren’t holding us back, J. You were just scared. But next time, you know you can talk to me right? I don’t want you to be feeling all that alone.” Looking down at him with doting eyes, you await for him to confirm.

“I know, Mari baby. Not gonna happen again. And you know you can tell me anything? Especially if you’re getting annoyed as shit with me.”

“You don’t want to know how often you do that, baby.” You smirk teasingly, and he can’t help but laugh, running his other palm up and down your thigh. Inches away, he stretches to nudge his nose against yours, tracing down to hover his lips over yours.

“I love you, Mariposa.”

“I love you too, Joel.”

His hand on your neck moves up a few inches to tilt your jaw toward him, connecting your lips in a delicate kiss. A sigh leaves your lips when he pulls away, your own hands reaching up to grip his shoulders and keep him close. Warm breaths meld together as the two of you sit in the thick of the moment, everything so silent he feels like you must be able to hear how hard his heart is beating.

The tension built over the last few days of avoiding touching or kissing or even being near each other snaps when you bow toward Joel, embracing him with more fervor. Your lips ebb and flow, heat growing between the two of you as hands skim over, groping everywhere that you were burning for each other’s touch.

Breathless and wanting, Joel shifts to stand, propping a knee on the couch next to you, all while keeping his lips locked with yours. You take the initiative to lay back, tugging on the sides of his t-shirt to drag him to hover over you. Legs spread for him to settle between, one of his arms propping himself above you, the other palming your breast through your shirt and bra. A whimper escapes from your mouth at the next breath, Joel’s mouth disconnecting from yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

He works to pull your shirt over your head, and you pull yourself off the couch to get the material off completely. In another motion, your bra is unclasped and tossed aside, his mouth finding the peaks of your breasts and sucking while his fingers give attention to the opposite.

“Joel..” you gasp when he tugs gently with his teeth, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him up to your lips again. Joel’s shirt comes off next, landing in a pile with your own clothes, feeling his bare skin against yours when he presses against you.

“Missed you so much, Mari baby. Never wanna be away from you again,” he whispers back to you, forehead against yours.

“Me too, J. Can I show you how much I missed you?” you proposition, his eyes lighting up with intrigue as he slowly nods. Your hands come to his shoulders, pushing him off of you to sit back on the couch. Fingers slip in the waistband of his pants, working his button open and zipper down, pulling the material and his boxers off. A relieved, nearly inaudible sigh leaves his lips, cock slapping against his stomach. His doe eyes find your face as you lick your palm and start slowly stroking him, quiet moans held back as his hand reaches up to stroke your cheek. You turn your head to kiss his palm before folding yourself over his lap, taking the tip of him in your mouth.

“Fuck, darlin’, so good to me. Don’t deserve you,” he praises you as you find a rhythm, bobbing your head as you shift your legs next to him. His hand coasts down from your head down your curved spine to your ass, grabbing a handful as he hits the back of your throat. A louder moan kicks from his throat, his opposite hand finding his mouth for him to bite on his fingers to stay quiet.

You push him to the edge only to pull away from him at the last moment, a muffled groan rumbling from his chest. He grabs you when you sit up, kissing you hard as he coaxes you to lay back.

“Love you so fucking much, Mari. So beautiful, so perfect,” he speaks against your skin, trailing kisses down your torso. He peels your shorts off of you, your panties following in their wake. His movements are rushed, but his affections slow and syrupy, oozing warmth inside of you along with his touches.

Spreading your legs, he lets out a deep sigh, licking his lips before he kisses your inner thighs, ghosting and tender against the velvety skin. Tiny whimpers leave your mouth while you watch him inch closer to where you need him, want him, the most.

“Joel, baby, please—” His thumb applying pressuring to your clit and moving in languid circles cuts you off with a moan, the sound cutting through the quiet of the house. He smirks from between your legs, shaking his head as he speaks low and raspy.

“Quiet, sweetheart. Gotta keep those pretty sounds to a whisper for me, okay?” he questions rhetorically, testing you when he drags two fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness and circling your clit again.

Without another response from you, Joel doesn’t waste anothe second before getting his mouth on your, lapping up your arousal and groanig to himself against your skin. Whines ring from your lips, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging before he slips his tongue into your entrance, fucking you slow with the strong muscle.

“Oh my god, J, feels so good. God, missed you so much. Few days too long not being able to touch you,” you punctuate the sentence with a whine, Joel switching it up to suck your clit and slip two fingers into you. The praise gives him a burst of need to satisfy, to prove himself capable of being the only one to make you feel this good. In another moment, he’s got you coming apart on his tongue, lapping up the sweetness of you.

You’re quick to pull him up for a messy kiss, whispers of nothing between the two of you while he thrusts inside your waiting entrance, filling you with a delicious stretch that sends your mind reeling. Deep, hard motions drive into you, one arm holding him above you and his lips locked with yours. Your hands explore over his torso, wrapping your arms around to his back and holding yourself to him. Pulling away, his eyes find yours with his lips part in heavy breaths, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Te amo, Mariposa. Te quiero muchísimo. Nunca más querrás pelear contigo. nunca quiero lastimarte. (I love you, Mariposa. I love you so much. Never going to fight with you again. Never want to hurt you.) Gonna protect you and that golden heart of yours, sweet girl.”

A wanton moan escapes from your parted lips, holding your gaze in his when you feel tears prick your eyes. Not able to figure out if it’s from all the emotion spilling out or from the pleasure he’s giving you, but something splits inside that opens the flood gates of your own feelings for Joel. In a second, your grip on him gives you the leverage to press him back to sit, straddling him as you start to ride him, the air thick and heavy with heat as Joel peppers kisses to your chest. He leans back against the sofa, tilting his head up to study your face while you fuck yourself on his cock.

He’s looking at you as if your God’s gift to the world — to him. That all of the shit he’s waded through in his life, it was all worth it to have you in the end. Knows he needs you, wants you desperately, for the rest of his life and would give anything to make that happen.

“M’gonna marry you, my beautiful girl. Made my life so much better from the second I met you. No puedo vivir sin ti a mi lado. (I can’t live without you by my side.) Don’t make me live another second without you. Gonna get you a ring and do all right for you, my Mari baby, but promise me you’ll be mine. Para siempre. (Forever.)”

You grip his shoulders tighter, moving your hips faster and looking down at him, one hand moving to caress his cheek.

“Siempre, baby. Always. I’d say yes to you a million times over. I promise, it’s you and me, J. I love you.” A handful of tears escape, and Joel is quick is wipe them away, kissing you deeply and nudging his nose against you as his warm breath spreads across your face.

Another beat of your hearts together, and you’re right at the edge, moaning his name quietly. He plants his feet to stay steady while he thrusts up into you, one arm wrapped around your waist.

“Gonna come, fuck, pretty girl. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

“Me…Me too, J. Oh my god—” you whisper back to him.

“Come for me, Mari baby.” The next second, there’s a crackling fire burning inside as hot pleasure spreads across your body, all the way through your fingers and toes. Joel stutters from under you, coming apart at the same moment as you. Ropes of his come paint yours walls, sweet moans spilling from his lips as he fucks you through it.

Falling out of the haze, Joel’s arms snake around you and hold you against him, your head finding the crook of his neck when you fall forward. He kisses your temple and rocks you gently, silence blanketing the room while you both catch your breaths.

Joel breaks first, rasp ringing in your ear, “I hope you know that doesn’t count as my proposal. Gonna do it all right for you, Mari baby. You deserve fireworks and rose petals and white doves flying around. Whatever you want.”

A giggle from you makes him smile, and you pick up your head to look him in the eye, devotion filling them and sending a tingle through his spine.

“I don’t need all that stuff, J. Jus’ need you to ask, and I’ll say yes.”

Your hand caresses his cheek, thumb brushing against his cheekbone as your match his smile.

“Love you, Joel.”

“Te amo, Mari.”

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