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#dylan speaks words
mister-lucky-bunny · 1 year
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KEVINNNN
DONT PUT THE KNIFE TO YOUR EYE
KEVINNNNNNNNNN!
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mystical-one · 11 months
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breaking news bob dylan diagnosed autistic by my mum
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sapphiretulips · 5 months
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Just putting this out there that everything is OK I just haven't been writing and spending a lot of time offline to recuperate,, just bad health anxiety fucked me up and I started taking meds and things are constantly chaotic ..
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shcherbatskya · 1 year
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girls when there is talk of cell phones in the fic for a musical set in the cold war
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gender-mailman · 1 year
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[ Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men Men ]
MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN!!!!!!!!!!!!
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averbaldumpingground · 11 months
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Life almost disappears, those summer afternoons spent reading in the park, your head half-leaning on his shoulder. Those mornings in the spring, a little late for work.
It didn't matter then, the way he took two sugars in his coffee. The way you let your hair grow out too long.
But these, the memories we keep, crammed in a shoebox full of polaroids, saved somewhere on a half-forgotten hard drive, they're what remains behind. They're what your sister finds, the weekend that she helps you pack your life.
And then it's sitting on the couch, your kitchen stuff already wrapped in paper. It's styrofoam containers, soda cans. It's wine that she's already drinking from the bottle.
And you can't figure out whose silhouette that was, who showed up to your party with a boa. And she is pretty sure her ex has kids.
But maybe that's why you and I keep postcards. Somebody's bow tie, paperclips, that bit of string.
They don't remind us of some other time, exactly. They're pieces of the people that we were, they're feelings that we'd wanted to hold on to.
#June 12 2023#I've had 'Spin' by Lifehouse stuck in my head all day.#Is it about some girl? Is it about god? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Who the heck even knows.#I mean that's like a very large percentage of Lifehouse's musical output.#Well this one could also be about parenthood I guess.#And I'm pretty sure 'You and Me' is definitely about Jason Wade's wife and 'Hanging by a Moment' is about god per comments he's made.#But it's a fun party game isn't it?#Speaking of 'Hanging by a Moment'. Even though it came out when I was like 12 and I hadn't yet realized the whole religious thing.#I associate it most with the summer I was 25 and living with my parents for the summer for a grad school internship.#I remember driving my mom's car to work after dropping her off along the way and cranking up the radio.#Unfortunately my options were limited to the pop station (too many commercials) or the Spanish station (I don't speak Spanish)#or the Christian rock station (the one I usually listened to despite my uncomfortable relationship with religion especially at the time).#And the first time I heard them play Lifehouse I was like wtf? Why is the Christian rock station playing something I actually like?#And then I really listened to the words of 'Hanging by a Moment' and I was 'Oooooh.'#And that was how it took me like 13 years to realize a band I liked and owned cds of may or may not have written a bunch of songs about god#Which honestly would have turned 12 year old me off a lot because like it's not fun being an atheist when almost everyone's a dick about it#And I'm not sure it was the healthiest coping mechanism for the whole having my heart shattered by a religious dude when I was 25...#Actually that's not true. That year I mostly played the fuck out of Emmylou Harris's and Bob Dylan's most depressing hits. ('Gold' anyone?)#Followed by Royal Wood's divorce album when that came out.#But blasting the Christian rock station in the car? Definitely kind of intentionally masochistic. But also I really hate radio commercials.#I did listen to a lot of Lifehouse that summer.#So regardless of what the songs are actually about they all remind me of the highway and my mom's old car and carpooling to work.#Except 'Blind'. 'Blind' still makes me cry.#That was a really pointless aside because I don't feel like writing or going to sleep and will probably stay up listening to Lifehouse now.#I guess the moral of that story if it needs to have a moral is:#If you're a godless heathen and someone makes you feel like shit because they act like there's something wrong with you for it#you're much better off not wasting your time trying to understand why they think like that and living your best heathen life instead.#Or something like that. Idk.
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danielemurra · 1 year
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youtube
The Times They Are a-Changin'
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sadiewayne · 3 months
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"adhd isn't a disability"
breaks down over trying to start tasks until he deadline is stupidly close
unable to do basic chores unless it's like 4am and then the whole damn house gets cleaned
speaks too fast
tangent and tangent and tangent. makes social situations hard
literally unable to stop themselves from interrupting people mid sentence (and the constant "*interrupts*- sorry, please continue")
knows what they want to say, cannot find the words, even if it's something basic
auditory processing disorder (pretty common with adhd), like how do you explain that you can hear but your brain has minecraft server lag and the chat will appear soon
hyperfixations, and people thinking they are special interests when they are not (they are short term, literally stops you from basic care like eating and drinking when in) edit: it was brought to my attention this comes across like special interests are easier to live with which is not the case, please do not take that away from this post!!!
impulse purchases making bank accounts cry
all or nothing. not hungry to pain. don't need to pee until pain. you get the picture
cannot sit still, like actually can't, constant moving and shuffling which people think would be cute but actually just pisses people off
doesn't have a fidget toy, not bc they are popular but bc they would have to put it away bc dylan over there got a fidget spinner and has been loudly playing with it (dylan is neurotypical)
cannot do anything if there is something else to do that day, must wait
just stfu it is a disability
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jukeboxjunk · 1 year
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I love you music reviews clearly in awe of their subject matter I love you YouTube comments from old people waxing about how deeply important these songs were to their life I love you when a popular song comes on in public and everyone starts singing almost unconsciously I love you music I love you music I love you music 
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theouterdark · 1 year
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Day 10 - NaNoWriMo 2022
I thought I would have a more detailed post today, but I just finished my words for the day, so I’ll just leave you with the word count: 2,014.
They came alright but I’m definitely pantsing this section and expounding in areas I didn’t expect or outline. I don’t feel as confident in these words but there are gems of ideas to be mined and cut and polished.
Starting chapter six. This is where things get weird, so I’m excited. See you tomorrow.
D
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mister-lucky-bunny · 1 year
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The funniest Jerma bit to me was when he put on an Elmo voice to appease a chat member’s younger sister because she was apparently scared of him
Only for him to instantly find out she’s 24 (edited cuz I remembered it wrong oops)
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eddiernunson · 10 months
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Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+
Master List | Next Part
My best friend tells me that he's a keeper
I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad
I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)
Word Count: 7.5k
Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)
Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.
As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.
“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”
Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”
“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.
“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.
Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.
It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.
Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.
He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.
You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.
It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.
But the feeling just nagged at your skull.
For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.
The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.
“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.
You nod, gritting your teeth.
-
Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.
Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.
As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.
“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.
He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.
“What?”
“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.
You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.
(From what you’ve heard anyway)
Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.
“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”
Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.
“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”
“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”
This helps you very little.
Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.
Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.
“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.
You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.
You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.
“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.
Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.
He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.
“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.
“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.
“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.
“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.
“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.
He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”
You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”
“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.
He could spit on you, and you would thank him.
Oh. That’s…new.
That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.
“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.
“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”
Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.
“Yes.” You affirm.
“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.
“Oh, a mixer.”
“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.
You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.
Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now.  He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”
You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.
He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”
“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.
Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”
The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.
“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”
He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.
That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.
-
The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.
Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.
Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.
But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.
Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.
Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.  
Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.
Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.
You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.
You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”
The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.
“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”
The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.
This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.
Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like
If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.
-
“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.
You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.
When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.
“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.
“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”
“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”
You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.
Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.
You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.
You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”
He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.
“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”
Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.
You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.
“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.
“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.
Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.
Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”
“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”
“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”
His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”
-
Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.
The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.
A church mixer.
He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.
His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.
He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.
Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.
He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.
Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.
He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.
He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.
Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”
The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.
“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.
Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.
Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.
He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.
He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.
A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.
You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.
Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.
Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.
Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.
He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.
-
The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.
 To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.
As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.
Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.
You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.
He rejects it. “Not hungry.”
“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.
“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.
“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.
“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.
“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.
“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.
You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.
Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”
You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.
“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…�� he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”
This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.
His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”
“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.
“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”
You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”
Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.
“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”
You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”
“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”
You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”
“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.
“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”
“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.
“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.
“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.
“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.
“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”
“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.
“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.
“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.
He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.
You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”
“I-I can’t—”
“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.
You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.
“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.
“Fuck—” you start to protest.
“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.
You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”
“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”
“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”
“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”
“All over your fingers.”
“You gonna lick em clean?”
“Can we share?”
Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”
The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”
Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”
Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.
Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.
As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”
You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.
Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.
“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.
“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.
“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.
Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.
It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.
“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”
“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.
“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”
“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.
“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”
“Gonna be a good slut for me?”
“Yes..I will I promise.”
He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.
Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.
“Move…please?”
“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.
“Fuck. Sorry.”
He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”
You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”
You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.
Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.
“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.
His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”
You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.
“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.
“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.
“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.
Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.
Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.
Eventually, a storm would hit.
But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.
-
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ifimdreaming · 3 months
Text
can i take you home?
luke hughes x reader || angst, fluff
request: “i like the idea of her best friend going to michigan/dating a former teammate of lukes so thats how luke and reader meet! i love angst and given that its lukes rookie year/she goes to college in another state, maybe they could be friends w benefits but both have strong feelings.”
author's note: i thought this request was so so cute so i kind of took it and ran. also kinda influenced by i miss you, im sorry by gracie abrams. this is also super long but i hope the ending is worth it. let me know if i should do more parts of this!
word count: 5.0k
-
Waking up to the sound of your best friend pounding on the guest bedroom door at 7am was not exactly the best way to start your day. But since you are staying the weekend in her student house that she shares with 5 other people, there are definitely unluckier ways you could have been awoken. 
“Morning sleepy head!!! I'm so happy you're up!” your best friend Emma almost shouts as she barges in the room, after you very reluctantly told her she could come in. She immediately begins opening the curtains, and rummaging through her closet to find her outfit for the day.
In her haste she almost spills the two cups of coffee she had brought up from the kitchen as she sets them on the dresser beside the bed, her mug being almost completely empty anyway. You can tell by her enthusiasm and caffeine intake that she has been up for quite a long time before deciding to wake you up. 
You groggily roll over and face away from the wide open curtains, not ready to face the day yet and really disappointed in yourself for choosing to drive up so late last night in the first place.
Of course you were happy to be able to visit your best friend, the two of you going to different schools making it incredibly hard to spend much time together anymore. But being back here brought back so many memories of the last time you visited. Both good and bad. And to be honest, all you could think about was him. From the very moment Emma invited you, he has been on your mind nonstop. 
The way he made you feel so utterly adored when he brought you back to his room, how he spoke to you so gently and quietly the one morning when you were hungover, the time he spilled and called you ‘his’ while you were in bed together, and how much it seemed like it would last forever. It was all coming back so strongly.
“So, what are the plans for the day Little Miss Sunshine?” you sit up, reluctantly speaking your first words of the day after clearing your throat. 
“Well! First I thought we'd go get bagels for breakfast from down the street, and then I think one of us may need a quick shower before we officially start our day…” Emma says with a hand on the side of her mouth, pretending to be saying a secret as she is side-eyeing you, and you just stare at her offendedly, “Aaand we are doing something tonight so maybe we should go shopping..” she says quickly and excitedly, clearly brushing past what exactly it is that we are doing tonight.
“Alright then.” you say as you check your phone for probably the 20th time in the 10 minutes you've been awake. And you can see Emma staring at you from the corner of your eye so you decide to throw your phone to the other side of the bed, getting up and ready to go. You knew she wasn't oblivious, but you did not want to acknowledge the look she was giving you right now, and honestly it did not seem necessary to bring anything up.
Besides, this weekend isn't even about him. Dylan's surprise birthday party is tomorrow and your best friend was so excited to be planning it with your help. She hadn't done anything this extravagant for her boyfriend before and she wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.
Obviously the last thing you would want to do is ruin this weekend for her, and your stupid feelings and non-relationship are included in that.
-
The walk to the bagel shop seemed awkwardly long as you were both not acknowledging the fact that your mind is very very distracted. It wasn't intentional. But feelings and places have such strong connections and the fact that things felt so unresolved was not helping. Everywhere you are here reminds you of him.
“How's your bagel?” Emma speaks up, finally breaking the silence on your walk home, thankfully giving you an opportunity to get out of your thoughts.
“Oh it's good! Thanks! I was super hungry…” you say, trying to muster up a believable enough reason for why you've been so off today. 
You continue walking and shuffling your feet in silence and are about to return back to the house before Emma looks at you and sighs loudly.
So. Close. You are literally about to step onto the driveway of the house when she stops you. 
“Ok can we just talk about it please? Because there is no way we are going to get through this entire weekend just ignoring it.” she says, stepping in front of you and blocking any sort of way for you to get out of this conversation. 
“What are you talking about?” you say with a grumble and a sigh. Knowing she is going to get it out of you. Obviously she would.
“Luke.” Emma says deadpan, waiting for your response.
For some reason at this moment you wanted to cry just hearing his name. But you also wanted to yell. Your feelings were confusing and annoying and it upset you to even have to talk about it with someone, even though you knew you should.
“I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. I can't stop thinking about him, and everything is so confusing.” you whisper-yell at her in frustration. 
It pained you to admit that you couldn't get him off your mind. You didn't realise how much you even liked him until having to admit that.
“He visited me during christmas… I mean, he did in the fall, but this time felt different.” You continue,  “We slept together again. Everything felt like it was going so well…And now nothing.” you admit to her and wipe your face with your sleeves, angry at the tears that have fallen from your eyes. 
“Has he called?” She asks warily.
“Once? Last week. It was short… but he sounded sad. He said he misses me. And he told me he really wanted to visit me. And I've texted him since then and no response.” you look down at your feet as you speak. It really shouldn't be this embarrassing to admit. It's not like you were in a relationship with him anyway.
“He's going to be here...tomorrow? I didn't know if you knew..” Emma says as she grabs your arm and slowly brings you close to her as you begin walking inside together and you nod your head in her direction.
You knew he would be here. Dylan is one of his best friends, obviously he isnt going to miss his 21st birthday. But with how things were currently going, it honestly made you wonder if Luke would even want you here. And what do his friends even know about you two? Has Luke said anything? So many questions are going through your head that it is almost making you dizzy.
-
The rest of the day is so much lighter after your earlier conversation. Emma is exponentially good at cheering people up, and maybe even to a fault, will always be on your side no matter what. But you appreciated it regardless.
You are currently finishing up putting on your makeup and getting ready to go out tonight, still very unaware of what the plan even is. But you didn't have much of a choice in the matter as Emma has picked out every aspect of your outfit tonight - down to the shoes, makeup, and jewellery.
Suddenly Emma gets a call from Dylan and runs into her bathroom to answer the phone, the music cutting out that was playing from her phone as she heads off, and silence filling the room.
You weren't intending to be eavesdropping, but you are able to hear muffled voices from the other side of the door and very hushed arguing that you couldn't quite make out. Making you curious as to what could possibly be going on tonight.
Emma saunters back into the room with hesitancy, her expression is scared and concerned at the same time as she is approaching you almost in slow-motion, saying nothing.
“What is it? Just spit it out.” you say, already knowing you are either about to hear the worst news of all time or the worst news of all time.
“Ok surprise! We're going out for sushi! Yay!” Emma says, obviously starting with the good news and you stay silent.
“And…Luke is coming out with us.” she continues, flinching at her own words as she plops herself on the bed across from you. You sit at her desk, makeup in hand, and cannot help but have an absolutely astonished look on your face. 
Nothing is able to even leave your mouth as her words run through your mind again and again.
“I am so SO sorry.” She starts. “One of the guys accidentally told Dylan that Luke is in town and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise for tomorrow, so I told Dylan that Luke and I were trying to surprise him tonight for dinner. I didn't know what else to say. It was literally the first thing that came to my mind. I'm so sorry.” she continues, worried she has done irreparable damage on your friendship.
“You can kill me now.” Emma blurts out defeatedly, wanting to keep the surprise for tomorrow and not wanting all her efforts to be ruined the day before the party.
Obviously you love that girl, but very much did want to kill her in this moment.
“Does Luke know I'm going to be there?” you ask, brushing past everything else she has said.
“Dylan said he would tell him, yeah, but if you don't want to come please don't feel like you have to.” she says with a small smile, hoping you have some-what forgiven her.
“No, I'll still come.” you say quietly but matter-of-factly.
If Luke knew you were coming, it would be weird if you decided to stay home now because of it, and besides, what would you do here alone? Thinking of what he would be doing and wishing you could read his mind is all you can think of.
“OH? This is good! Ok! Dylan said he is picking us up in 20 minutes!” Emma states, suddenly very excitedly, hoping it will cheer you up to see that she is excited. And as you continue getting ready, nervous energy and anticipation fill your body.
Dylan shows up right on time, unfortunately for you, not giving you any extra time to sit and wallow in your feelings.
It was inevitable that you would be seeing Luke this weekend, but this quickly and under these conditions was not exactly ideal. You were hoping to at least be able to have a one-on-one conversation with him before being thrown into random get togethers where things have no chance but to be awkward.
The drive to dinner is surprisingly happy. Dylan seems so excited to be seeing his best friend again. He can't stop talking about the last time they saw each other and how long it has been. And Emma's laughter and giddy energy is helping you calm down and distract you just a little bit.
“The reservation is for 7pm so we might have to wait in the car for a few minutes.” Emma says, checking her phone as Dylan pulls up to the restaurant a bit early. 
The dim lighting and intimate booths look extremely inviting as you peer inside the windows of the restaurant from the parking lot. You can't help but get distracted by watching people inside as Emma and Dylan talk from the front seats of the car and are cutely chatting to each other quietly.
“There's my boy!” Dylan yells out as he jumps out of the driver's seat, running up to give Luke a hug across the parking lot.
“Ready?” Emma looks back and asks you, reassuringly placing her hand on your knee and rubbing her thumb up and down a few times.
“Guess so…” you say with a fake smile as you grab your purse from beside you, and as you are about to leave the car, you see a tall figure standing right outside your door.
Only a little bit startled, you look up to see Luke as he opens your door for you and greets you with a tired smile. He is dressed nicely in black pants and a cream cable knit sweater, his hair curly and tousled up like always. 
As you step out of the car he brings you into a tight hug, like he just couldn't wait to hold you again.
“I missed you…” Luke whispers so quietly into your ear that you almost couldn't hear him. He swiftly leaves a gentle kiss to the side of your head as he brings his hands just a bit lower down your back, “I’m sorry” he says quietly as he releases you.
As much as you want to reciprocate, you are so caught off guard by his words that you just stare up at him without a word.
“Alright let's go! I'm so hungry!” Dylan says, unaware of the tension, as he pats Luke's back and wraps an arm around him, walking in front of you and Emma and into the restaurant. 
Emma is glancing at you as you walk together, waiting to hear from you what Luke said, but you decide to ignore it with a shrug and she looks away. 
-
Dinner is filled with laughter and catching up with one another. Surprisingly it wasn't even half as awkward as you built it up to be. Dylan chatting away with Luke as you and Emma giggle across from each other about all the drama at your respective schools. 
Having a couple of drinks throughout the night was definitely helping, but regardless of that, you felt good. Really good.
“Luke, how's the love life going for you? You got a girl in Jersey?” Dylan asks with a laugh as Emma had just bragged about her and Dylan going on 2 years of being together.
She shoots you a regretful look as she hits Dylan's side with her elbow, not as discreetly as she probably wanted to, and your face turns bright red.
Luke looks down at his lap and shakes his head with a chuckle, seemingly avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.
“No man, no girl in jersey.” Luke says lightly as he takes a drink of his beer before the two of you make eye contact and he glances down to your fidgety hands that are in your lap. 
“My bad, my bad…” Dylan says with a laugh as he clears his throat and starts back to finishing the food on his plate, Emma quietly shushing her clueless boyfriend beside her.
Your nervous hands continue to pick at your cuticles and you look over to see Luke inching his hand closer beside yours on the booth bench. Looking up from your lap, you see him glancing back at you as he waits for your reaction before discreetly taking your hand in his under the table.
The feeling of his hand in yours is so comforting and familiar and immediately eases your anxiousness. But you still feel so conflicted.
Luke always knew how to comfort you and distract you from your thoughts when they were out of control. Especially during busy school semesters and many nights spent together with him keeping you company while you anxiously wrote papers and prepped for exams. 
He seemed to be there for you when it felt like you had no one else. At least that's how it used to feel. Now things feel so complicated. Not knowing the status of your relationship surprisingly taking a much larger toll on your ability to act like friends than you would have ever thought.
“So! I've got the bill tonight guys. Happy birthday Dyl!” Emma blurts out as the waiter approaches the table, she leans over to give her boyfriend a loving kiss, comfortably filling the awkward silence that had just taken over the table not long before.
“Thank you baby! And hey! thanks guys for coming out tonight too.” Dylan smiles at the both of you as he lifts up his glass for a toast. You all clink your glasses, wishing him happy birthdays that follow big swigs of your almost empty alcoholic beverages.
Walking out of the restaurant, your mind fills with running thoughts. You wish you had spoken to Luke more tonight but it was hard to not make anything obvious. He seemed good, but still weirdly sad and you wanted to talk to him about it so badly. You wanted to talk to him about everything.
As you near Dylan's car you feel Luke's hand brush against yours and lightly hold your wrist, turning you around to face him.
“Can I take you home?” Luke shyly asks you as you all stand in the parking lot together. You mutter a “sure” under your breath with a nod, and he looks to Dylan and Emma for confirmation, both of them nodding in agreement before bringing you into tight hugs and saying goodbyes.
“Tell me everything that happens girly.” Emma runs back over to you and whispers into your ear as she hugs you goodbye once more, and all you can do is let out a small laugh in response to her teenage-esque behaviour.
-
After Dylan and Emma drive away, the short walk over to Luke’s car suddenly seems agonisingly long and your heart is racing in anticipation. Over anything else that happens tonight, you really wanted clarity. But of course, thoughts of the worst possible outcome ever sneak their way into your mind.
Luke opens the passenger side door for you and you climb into his car before he gently closes the door and walks to the other side. As he gets in, he begins to start the car before he looks over to you and pauses, the quiet becoming almost painful. 
You didn't know what to say, and you didn't want to say the wrong thing. So, waiting for him to break the silence seemed to be your best bet.
“I know I should have thought of something to say…” He starts, and shuffles in his seat, slightly bending his right leg so he is facing you a little more.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stopped responding to you.” Luke continues, and you almost want to roll your eyes at his apology. It was so hard to be understanding when this felt like such a preventable situation on his part.
But you knew Luke. You knew when he was scared he got distant. You knew he was pulling back from you. You just didnt know why.
“Things have been so…weird…lately, and I just…I know I fucked up.” He confesses.
You didn't want to be reading between the lines anymore. You just wanted him to be honest with you about what he wants, and it frustrated you that he was being so vague.
“Luke, what do you want? Like, from me?” you ask innocently, but squint your eyes closed tightly as the words coming out of your mouth sound completely different from what you intended.
“Like, you told me we were friends. And obviously I was ok with that. But when you would visit me, we’d sleep together. And when you left it was like. I don't know…” you look down and pick at your fingers as you speak, looking up at him feeling like an almost impossible task.
“You told me you wanted to be friends.” Luke states, and gently grabs your hand. He holds it in his to stop you from destroying your fingers as you speak, which causes you to look up at him, thanking him silently, as he waits on your response.
“I said that because I knew how hard it would be for us to be so far away from each other.” you say strongly, feeling the sudden need to defend yourself.
“You know how important school is to me, and I know how important your career is to you. I don't want to distract you from what's important to you. I don't want to be the one that gets in the way of things, or be the reason why you're not as focused as you could be…as much as I want to be-” you begin to confess, but are quickly cut off.
“It's kinda too late for that…” Luke says with a chuckle as he tilts his head back against the headrest of his seat and looks out the front window, frustration still evidently seen on his face.
“What do you mean??” you ask, hoping he will elaborate a little more than he has been so far.
“You already distract me. I can't stop thinking about you. And it's obvious. In my game and everything too. Even Jack has noticed and he keeps asking me about you and I don't even know what to say. I can't shut him up. Cuz how am I supposed to tell him how I feel when I can't even tell you? Its actually really fuckin annoying.” he laughs as he explains, still looking ahead out the window instead of at you. 
Luke has always sought to use humour and jokes in difficult situations, especially when it comes to his own feelings. He's clearly frustrated at himself and it hurts you to see him having such a hard time expressing himself.
“So why have you been so distant lately?! I’ve been really worried about you.” you say, suddenly feeling more confident in confronting him as he opens up to you.
“Cuz im scared im gonna fuck things up even more than I already have…” he says honestly as he turns his head to look at you again.
“I knew I should've said something from the moment we slept together the first time. I feel like I fucked up by keeping my mouth shut. It's been ruining my life to not just be honest with you.” he adds with a growl deep in his voice, anger at himself seeping through his words.
As he continues, you can't help but feel entranced by him in his current state, and suddenly you are very aware of how late at night it is becoming. 
“It's my fault...” Luke says, and you desperately try to focus on his words and not his body. 
But you can't help but think about how good his hands would feel on your body and how badly you want him to kiss you right here and now. You didn't care that you were still in the parking lot of a sushi restaurant. You didn't care that things were still so confusing and that this probably wasn't exactly the most ideal time to be feeling this way. You just felt like you needed him so badly.
“I've been treating you like shit lately. Regardless of us sleeping together, that should not change how I treat you. I've been a shitty friend to you, and I'm really really sorry.” he continues, and you are brought out of your trance. 
His words hit you so hard. You both unknowingly made this relationship so complicated and weren't even aware of it. You knew Luke was not perfect, but for some reason you expected him to be able to read your mind, and vice versa. Even after being the one to say you should stay friends, you were silently upset that nothing was happening in the way you wanted.
“Luke, it's ok. Both of us have not been entirely honest with each other lately and it's made everything so… fucked up. We’re just… in a weird spot.” you say, hoping your words make any sense considering you zoned out for half of his apology.
“Can I just say that I want to be able to fix this?” Luke says as he places his hand on your thigh, his fingers mindlessly getting higher and higher as he rubs slowly back and forth. Trying his best to soothe you and unknowingly turning you on even more.
“It isn't just on you to fix.” you say as you place your hand softly over his, stopping his movement on your leg as to not let it overly distract you.
“Yes it is. I let you down. I fucked up by being so fucking…distant. I should've been more clear about what I want…that I want you..” Luke admits, giving into what he has wanted to say from the moment you got into the car together.
His eyes are fixed on yours and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. Hearing him so confidently confess how he is feeling after so long is such a relief. It makes you want to just tell him you love him right here and now.
“I know things are complicated…but, I really don't want to not have you in my life…” Luke adds as tears begin to well in his eyes, catching you both off guard.
“Oh Lukey.” you whisper as you hold his face in your hands, your heart melting at the sight of him. 
Luke places his hands on your wrists, pulling them away from his face as he finally leans into you. 
His lips hit yours with an intensity that you have never felt before from him. His hands move away from yours, and to the base of your neck, gently pulling you closer into him as he deepens the kiss. 
Your eyes are glued shut as you are entranced by his lips finally being connected with yours as his tongue dances around in your mouth. 
Needing to have your hands on him, you reach up to brush his face with your thumbs and then begin gently tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, causing him to lustfully groan deep into your mouth. Your mind is filled with excitement and intensity as the moment grows in mutual desire.
“I needed you baby.” You say rushedly, disconnecting with him for only a moment.
Luke smiles against your lips as you connect again, and he places his left hand on your hip, massaging his fingers into your side. You lift yourself lightly onto the centre-console, desperate to be as close to him as you can get, and he lowers his hand just below your ass to help support you.
Although being in the close quarters of Luke's car while having such a monumental conversation about your relationship was not quite ideal, you were so thankful for it at this moment.
“I needed you too.” Luke says after coming up for air, and you just stare at him with a dizzy smile, your head reeling with arousal.
He pecks your lips a few times before lowering his head to your collarbone, gently kissing your neck and leaving red marks where he most definitely has before.
Your giggles fill the car as he continues expeditiously exploring your body, wanting to savour every moment of your presence and relishing in the way he is pleasing you.
Luke looks up at you with a smile before his eyebrows furrow and he is distracted by something behind you, causing you to whip your head around to look out your window, immensely alarmed at his expression. 
Luke lightly lets go of you, allowing you to sit properly in your seat and as your eyes focus on the window, the sight of a kind-looking restaurant hostess tapping on the glass outside of your door almost sends you reeling into a panic. 
Luke quickly reassures you with a laugh, placing his hand on your arm and starting the car before beginning to roll your window down for them to speak.
“I am so sorry if I startled you, but our restaurant has closed, which means we can no longer allow you to park here, as free parking ends at midnight.” the hostess explains politely while pointing to the sign posted on the brick wall just in front of Luke's car. 
“Thanks Ma’am. We’re so s-sorry.” Luke pauses to hide his face, clearly hiding that he is about to break into laughter.
“We’ll leave right aw-” Luke laughs out, hardly able to finish his sentence before being sent into a fit of silent laughter.
“We’re so sorry. Have a good night!” you say more seriously, trying to make up for the completely unserious boy beside you.
“Goodnight guys!” the hostess says as she walks away, leaving you completely embarrassed and also scared half to death.
Luke continues dying of laughter and is hunched over the steering wheel as you punch his arm repeatedly to get his attention.
“That was awful! Why are you laughing so hard!” you say unimpressed, but still unable to hold back laughter of your own after seeing him look up at you with tears in his eyes.
“Fuck. I can't get over your face.” Luke says as he begins to come down a little, wiping the tears from his eyes. You just shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, not taking any chances of having to be asked to leave once more.
“Fuck.” he says once more with a sigh, relaxing in his seat and looking over to you with a genuine smile before patting your thigh reassuringly.
You look to Luke expectantly and he stares back at you with a smirk before kissing your lips passionately, catching you off guard. 
Your hands are drawn to his face as he nudges your chin with his, causing you to lean into him even further before he pulls away from you abruptly.
“Can I take you home?” Luke asks with lust in eyes as he brushes his thumb across your cheek, admiring every single feature on your face. His words having a different meaning to both of you than they have previously tonight.
“For real this time?? Because you know we cant sit in this parking lot any longer…” you say jokingly as Luke rolls his eyes at you and begins to put his seatbelt on.
“Yes, for real this time.” He retorts. His right hand eagerly finding yours as he interlocks your fingers with his, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss before finally driving off.
-
-
668 notes · View notes
cupidysm · 5 months
Text
Vegan Pizza
Just a fic I wrote to practice my fluff writing! edit: I’m so happy so many people enjoyed it!
Steven Grant x gn!shy!reader || masterlist ||
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summary: (I gotta practice fluff writing) As Steven makes his way back to his flat after being stood up, he runs into his neighbor who helps him find comfort in a warm meal.
content: fluff, making out, awkwardness (but like in an endearing way? I hope)
word count: 1,218
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Steven Grant naturally thought bad luck was simply drawn to him. However, the day he landed a date with his co-worker, Dylan, he thought his luck has finally turned around.
Until she didn’t show up.
Steven was a good neighbor. Always greeting you with a smile or a quick “Good morning.” No matter how late he was for work. Now that you were thinking about it, he was kind of cute.
Alright fine, you were enamored.
His big brown eyes, his tooth aching smile, and it didn’t matter how loose fitting his clothes were you could see the traces of muscle through his wide necked shirts. But looks didn’t matter anyways. It was simply being himself that drew you in.
You found yourself returning home later than usual from a busy day at work, and just as you’re about to enter the door to your flat you hear the steps of someone heading up the stairs.
“Bloody chocolates.” Steven mumbled as he slumped up the steps to his floor.
You didn’t mean to be eavesdropping, but earlier that week you had heard him bragging to another neighbor about a date he landed. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say you were the slightest bit jealous, but Steven had a love life too and it wasn’t like he’d wait forever for you to get over your worries and ask him out.
You turned to Steven with a smile. “Hey Steven! How was your date?”
Steven doesn’t recall ever mentioning it to you, but then again he doesn’t remember much now days between his life and his dreams.
“Oh, hi. Yeah…it didn’t go well. She stood me up.” He mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Your heart twinged with excitement, but was quickly replaced with sympathy at his downcast expression. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Steven.”
“All I wanted was a bloody dinner with someone to spend time with.” He sighs. “Not get stood up.”
The words slip from your mouth before you can even go over them in your head.
“Wellifyou’restillhungrymaybeyou’dwanttocomeoverandhavesomethingtoeat…” you realize how fast you’re speaking and are able to slow your brain down. “I’m making a pizza..? It’s vegan.”
The first time Steven had mentioned he was vegan you immediately bought a vegan pizza, that way when you did have the excuse to ask him on a date you’d be prepared. Apparently now was that time.
His face lights up slightly at the mention of a meal. “That sounds great! Yeah…I’d like that.” He smiles.
He follows you into your flat and sits down while you take out the frozen pizza.
“I’m surprised you actually had something vegan. Most people think vegan food tastes strange.”
You laughed. “Not me.”
That was a lie. You made one a while back and weren’t entirely fond of it, but if this ended well you’d be happy to eat as many vegan pizzas if it meant you’d get to have more times like this one.
“I remember you mentioned you being vegan a while back so I thought I’d buy it.” You immediately winced at your words. You don’t know how long back he had mentioned this, but you think it was pretty far back. He was definitely gonna think you were weird for remembering something as minuscule as that.
“Yeah, that’s right, I… I am. You remember that?” He asked clearly shocked.
Shit. He did think you were weird.
“Thanks, I… no one really takes the time to listen… or care.”
You’re lucky your turned away from him as you load the pizza in the oven so he won’t see your blush.
“It’s no biggie.” You smile.
The rest of the night you chat between each other. Steven’s once dismal night took a flip from simply spending time with someone as lovely as you. When the pizza is ready, the both of you eat your pizza happily.
“This is good. I still can’t believe you remembered I was vegan.” He smiles.
“It’s really not that big of a deal.” Your face is definitely visibly red.
“It’s big to me. No one really remembers something like that about me.” He chuckles as he looks up at you with his big eyes.
You could’ve kissed him right there with the way he was looking at you. His mouth full of pizza making his cheeks puff out in such an adorable way.
“Bloody hell. must sound desperate, don’t I?” He looks off embarrassed. This time he’s the one blushing.
“No, no ‘course not.” You smile with a giggle.
He flushed again slightly before speaking out.
“You’re… you’re very pretty.” His voice trails off as he looks down at his plate embarrassed.
Your jaw practically falls off. “What?”
“You are very pretty.” His eyes glance up at you before staring locked on your eyes. “Really… beautiful.” His voice trails off.
“Did I say that out loud?” He picks his head up in a panic, his face turning beet red.
You stand up quickly. “I, uh… bathroom-“ You sprint in the direction of your bathroom before shutting the door.
You lean yourself against the wall, your beating so fast you think it might fly out of your chest. You eventually realize you just left him alone and put yourself in an even more awkward situation, so you decide to open the door.
You jump back in surprise and see Steven standing there awkwardly.
“I… er,” he fiddles with his hands. “Did I say something wrong? I- I mean you really are beautiful, and oh bollocks, I ruined it didn’t I.” He stammers out quickly.
You quickly cover his mouth with your hands in order to shut him up.
“Steven, stop it. Stop that.”
His eyes widened when you covered his mouth, a bit shocked.
“What— did I say something wrong?” He asked, his voice muffled.
“No- no of course not.” You squeeze your eyes shut to overwhelmed.
“God, if you keep saying stuff like that I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing you and I like you way too much for me to ruin it.”
He was utterly gobsmacked, his eyes wide as you spoke.
Finally, he managed to respond.
“Are—”
He lifts your hands from his mouth.
“Are you saying you… want to kiss me right now?”
You quickly cover your face.
"And it's such terrible timing too! I- I mean your date just stood you up!" You stammer out.
"I don't care if you kiss me right now. I— uh, I wouldn’t mind…" He said, almost breathless. "This— we, I…"
He couldn't find words— so instead he showed it.
His lips pressed against yours softly, just enough so I’d you were uncomfortable you had the space to pull away, but there was no way you were going to now.
A soft whimper left his lips as you pressed yourself further into him. He slid his hands around your waist, until he eventually pulled back to let the two of you breath.
“That was good.” Is all he manages. “That was very good.”
You can’t help but giggle and eventually he can’t either. He laughs alongside you, arms still entangled in eachother.
“…Could I take you on a date. A real one. No getting stood up?” His eyes sparkling with hope.
“Yeah, that would be nice.”
511 notes · View notes
bingwriterxo · 9 months
Text
the shakespeare exhibit - part 8
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: in which you and tara both have things to talk about
warnings: mentions of stabbing, talks of substance abuse and verbal abuse
word count: 2700+
previous part | next part
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Finals season was in full swing at Blackmore University, sending its students into poor sleep schedules and even worse diets as they attempted to cram a semester’s worth of information into their brains.
You and Tara, unfortunately, were no exception. For the past week, the two of you had holed yourselves up in either the library or one of your apartments, your noses stuck in your books and your hands fumbling around for an energy drink whenever you needed a pick-me-up.
The only time you had taken a break was to celebrate Tara’s 20th birthday, but even then it was hardly a celebration. You had gathered all of her friends at her apartment, had a small party consisting of drinks and movies, and then went right back to studying, Tara in tow.
Safe to say, the stress levels were at an all-time-high, especially for Tara, who was experiencing her first round of finals in university. You had offered her a few studying tips, since you had already gone through the struggles of freshman-year exams the year prior, before immersing yourself in your own revision.
You were in the midst of reviewing for your Romantic Literature course--the last final that you had for the semester--when your mother called you, leading you to slip out of Tara’s bedroom and into the hallway to speak to her.
Tara sat at her desk, grumbling as she tried to study for her Introduction to Literature course. This is just as stupid as it was when I was studying for the midterm, she thought, eyes scanning her notes about Emily Dickinson. Maybe it’s even more stupid now.
Your voice broke her concentration as you walked back into her room, and she twisted her chair around to face you. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll ask her, alright?” You rolled your eyes and pointed at your phone, mouthing, she talks so much. Tara giggled softly, extending her arms for you to stand between, and you sighed as you slid into place, her fingers rubbing over your hips. “Okay. Yup. Yeah, okay. Yeah. Right. Okay, bye, mom.”
“What was that all about?” Tara asked when you hung up, throwing your phone onto her desk. “Did Eddie pull another prank on the Dylan Thomas statue again?”
You chuckled, thinking about the photo that your brother had sent you the week before—he had put a wig, makeup, and a shaving-cream beard on the statue of your grandfather’s late friend. “No, no. The statue garden has gone untouched this week.”
She shook her head, a grin on her face. “I still can’t believe you guys have a statue garden,” she said. But of course her family does. Because why wouldn’t they?
“Well, my dad’s always been big into statues. Like, when he was younger, he--” You cut yourself off. “That’s not important. Anyway, my mom invited us to spend Christmas at the house.” Tara’s eyes lit up, a type of joy that she didn’t know existed rushing through her. Us? she thought. I’ve been invited to family Christmas? “Do you want to go--”
“Yes!” she exclaimed immediately, nodding her head fervently. “Please, yes.” Shit, I’ll need to buy presents. What the hell do you get for kids who could buy anything they’ve ever wanted?
You giggled at her enthusiasm and tilted your head. “Are you sure you and Sam aren’t going back to California for the holidays?” you asked.
Back to California? Back to…Woodsboro? She furrowed her eyebrows, biting her bottom lip. “Why would we go to Cali?”
You squirmed a little where you stood. What’s she so nervous about? she wondered. “I just thought you might want to see your mom?” Your voice pitched on the last word, and Tara tensed, her arms falling to her sides. You frowned and reached out, but she pulled back, swallowing.
“No, there’s--we’re not--no,” she stammered out, her voice short. She shook her head. “I’ll be here.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
Tara wanted the conversation to be over, but your lips were pursed like you still had something you wanted to say. “What?” she asked.
You shook your head. “Nothing!”
She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes at you. “No, you look like you have something to say. What?”
“I just…you’ve never spoken about her. Maybe we could--”
That’s because there’s nothing to say.” She’s good for nothing, she thought. “I don’t like to talk about her.” I’d rather read Shakespeare, which is really saying something.
“But--”
“No.” Her voice was stern, clear-cut, and she watched as you deflated a little, your eyes flitting around the room. She sighed, running a hand down her face. “I’m not doing this right now, okay? I’m not talking about her.”
“Tar…” The nickname came out as a coo, soft and careful and meant to be comforting, but it ignited a strange irritation beneath Tara’s skin, and something in her snapped.
“Listen, we can’t all have a perfect-fucking-family, okay?” she shouted, and you flinched, taking a step back, your eyes widening at her sudden outburst. “Just because you have parents who are there and who care doesn’t mean everyone does! I mean, Jesus, my mom didn’t even come to see me last year after--” After Amber stabbed me half-to-death, she finished in her head.
The air was tense, quiet. You stood in front of her, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, and Tara cursed herself when she noticed that your hands were trembling slightly.
“Baby…” She reached out for you, but her fingers met open air as you shook your head and crossed the room to grab your things from her bed.
“It’s fine. I--I shouldn’t have pushed,” you rushed out, your voice shaking. You threw your notebook and laptop into your backpack hastily before hurrying to the door. Tara stood, desperate to do something to stop you from leaving, but she didn’t get the chance as you said, “I’m sorry.” Of course she’d apologize when I snapped at her. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
The door shutting behind you pulled all the air from Tara’s lungs, and she fell back into her chair, holding her face in her hands.
“God fucking damnit,” she groaned. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
* * *
Hours later--during which Tara had sat in her bed and moped--there was a knock on her bedroom door. For a brief second, she thought it was you. But there would be no reason for her to come back after I got mad at her, she reminded herself, and any hope she had disappeared when Sam walked into the room, a frown on her face.
“I thought Y/N was staying for dinner so you two could study through it,” Sam said, bringing Tara’s attention right back to the fact that you had left. She stepped into the room, her arms crossed over her chest, and asked, “What happened? You’re all”--she gestured at Tara--“sad.”
Tara huffed, glaring at her sister. “Nothing,” she grumbled.
Sam scoffed. “Oh, please. You and Y/N have been attached at the hip since the start of finals.” She shook her head. “Scratch that--since you two began dating. So, what happened, Tara?”
Stupid Sam, being a good older sister. Tara sighed and relented. “She asked about mom.”
“Oh.” Sam frowned. “And what did you say?”
“I--” Was a bad girlfriend and got mad at her for no reason, Tara thought, shame seeping into her veins. “I snapped at her. I didn’t mean to. It’s just…mom’s a tough topic, and it’s even harder because Y/N’s family-life is so perfect.” She clenched her jaw and glanced away, ignoring the spark of jealous lighting in her chest. “She’s got two parents who are there, and they have money, and she’s just…” Perfect.
Sam tilted her head, walking over and sitting beside Tara. “You know, it wasn’t easy for me to tell Danny about mom, either. He’s in the same boat as Y/N--well, not the super rich family part, but his parents are together and there.” She shrugged. “It’s hard not to envy that, but she’s your girlfriend, so you’ll need to talk to her about mom at some point. She deserves to know.”
Tara nodded, hanging her head. “I know. I feel horrible for getting upset with her.” She gestured lamely at her phone. “I tried texting and calling her, but…” She pointed across the room, where your phone still sat on her desk. “Obviously that didn’t work.”
Sam hummed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Tara. Maybe she just needed a minute.” She rested her hand on Tara’s shoulder. “Plus, she’ll need her phone.”
“What if she comes back and breaks up with me?” Tara asked, looking up at Sam with wide eyes. What if she never speaks to me again? she thought. What if this is it? What if--
“Every couple has arguments, Tara.” Sam smiled softly at her. “She’s not going to break up with you over this. That girl’s head over heels for you, even more than you are for her. It’s gonna be okay, okay?”
Tara bit the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, okay,” she said, not missing the sorrow in her own voice. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” Sam stood, her hands on her hips and her head tilted. “Now, should we get Chinese food or pizza?”
* * *
Sam was right: you did just need a minute.
It was as Tara was getting ready for bed that she heard a knock on the front door. Sam’ll deal with it, she decided as she climbed beneath her sheets, ready to lay in the darkness and wallow for a while. Just as she was reaching over to turn off her bedside lamp, a certain name caught her attention.
“Oh, hi, Y/N!” Sam said loudly from the living room, and Tara knew she had raised her voice so that she would know who was at the door. She sat up immediately. Y/N is here? What? There was some mumbling before Sam’s voice came again. “Yeah, she’s in her room. Go ahead.”
Moments later, there were soft knocks against her bedroom door, and Tara scrambled out of her bed, rushing across the room to open the door for you. There you stood, your lips pulled in a downturned smile and your eyes wide with worry.
“Hey, pretty girl,” you muttered. You were still wearing the same clothes from the day, and your backpack was still hanging off your shoulders. Did she not go home? she wondered, furrowing her eyebrows. You pulled your arm out from behind you, revealing a small bouquet of flowers. “Got you these.”
Tara blinked. She bought me flowers?!  “I--Thanks?” She took them from your outstretched hand. “What are you doing here?”
“I said I’d see you later, didn’t I?” you tried to joke, but your voice was strained, like you were trying to be careful, and Tara felt guilt prick at her knowing that she was the cause. “Could I come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. Always,” she rushed out, moving to her bed to sit. She placed the flowers on her bedside table and watched as you sat in front of her, fingers playing with her blanket. “So, what’s up?” ‘What’s up?’ Really? That’s the best I can do?
You sighed, a shaky breath falling from your lips. “I want to apologize,” you said. “I didn’t mean to push you into talking about your mom earlier. I know she’s a touchy subject.”
Tara frowned. “Why are you apologizing? I’m sorry for shouting at you. I shouldn’t have done that.”
You shook your head, glancing up and finally making eye-contact with her. “No, it’s okay. You didn’t want to talk about her. And, that’s okay.” You shrugged and offered her a comforting smile. “You don’t have to tell me about her…ever, if you don’t want to.”
“I should, though. I mean, we should talk about her.”
“Tara, you really don’t have to--”
“No, I--I want to.” Want’s a strong word, she thought. But I should.
“Okay,” you said, nodding and giving her your full attention. “You have the floor.”
She sighed heavily. “Well, my dad left when I was 8. My mom started working more so that she could afford Sam and I, but it turned more into an obsession for her, I think. Next thing I knew, she was never there. Sam left home when I was 13, and it was just me.” She shrugged, glancing down and fiddling with her fingers. “Then, Sam came back after I was attacked, and my mom wouldn’t talk to her, so we made the choice to cut her off. I haven’t spoken to her since we moved.”
Tara clicked her tongue, looking back up at you. To her surprise, your face wasn’t full of the pity she was used to seeing after telling people about her past; you were watching her carefully, looking close to tears.
“So, that’s that,” she said awkwardly.
You inhaled sharply, blinking your glassy eyes away. “You didn’t deserve any of that, Tar, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with it.” You reached out, your hand cupping her cheek, and she leaned into your touch. “I’m so happy that you’ve found your family.”
Her heart fluttered at your words, her mind flashing to Sam and Mindy and Chad. “Yeah,” she agreed. “I am, too. I really love those guys.” And I’ve found you, too, she thought. You make it all complete.
You grinned, and she practically melted into her mattress. “Good. They’re good--all of them.”
She giggled. “C’mere.” She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you to lay down with her, your face nuzzled into her neck. She laughed at the feeling of your nose against her skin, and said, “I love you. Like, a lot.”
Your arms wrapped around her waist, and you squeezed lightly. “I love you, like, a lot, too.” You sighed into her. “And I’m sorry for leaving like that earlier. I just…I don’t do well with raised voices.”
Huh? Suddenly, she was on high alert. Why not? What happened? “Any particular reason?”
You twisted in her hold so that you could lay beside her, your gaze trained on the ceiling. She scooted down so that her head was level with yours and looked at you, tracing your side profile with her eyes. So pretty, she thought. Wait, stay on topic, Tara.
You clenched your jaw. “We’ve never talked about it, but, um, my dad…” You closed your eyes. “When I was younger, my dad had a big drinking problem.” Her eyebrows furrowed. Her dad? That man? Really? “He was never physical,” you said, shaking your head lightly. “But he had a temper when he was drunk, and everything I did was always wrong.”
“Oh, Y/N,” she sighed, intertwining her fingers with yours. Your grip was tight, like she would float away if you didn’t hold on.
“He’d yell a lot, at me, at my mom.” Oh, baby. Your thumb rubbed over the skin of her hand. “But he’s good now. He got better after the boys were born--got sober. He hasn’t had a drink since.” You turned your head, looking back at her.
“He’s not, like, obsessed with apples, or anything,” you said. What does that have to do with the conversation? she wondered. “But, he eats them a lot when we have parties. That was his thing--eat an apple when he wanted a drink. It stuck, so we keep the fridge stocked, and any time someone sees him even look in the direction of alcohol, we get him an apple.” You smiled. “He eats them begrudgingly, but he’ll never have an apple out of his own volition now.”
Tara chuckled softly. “I’m happy he’s better now, but I’m sorry you dealt with that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
You shrugged, leaning closer so that your forehead rested against her cheek. “It’s okay now. I’m alright,” you promised. “Just…never buy that man an apple, alright?” you joked, easing the tension in the air.
“Deal,” she agreed, nudging your head up. She leaned in, kissed you, and said, “I guess no family’s perfect after all, huh?” when she pulled away.
“I guess not.” You grinned, leaning up on your elbow to hover over her. “But, maybe ours could be the first.”
Her heart practically stopped, and she couldn’t help the smile that took over her face. Ours? she thought. She felt like she wanted to burst from the amount of joy that came with that thought. Yeah. Ours.
“Okay.” She pushed herself up and kissed you again. “Ours will be the first.”
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danielemurra · 1 year
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Don't Think Twice, It's All Right
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