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#I’ve been talking about him a lot but not about her too much. I love her!
bluesidez · 3 days
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GymRat!Miguel Part 9.1 | full chapter without breaks on AO3
content warning: lots of music links, ROADTRIP!!, some hurt/comfort at the beginning, a damn near comedy if I must say so myself, Spanish parts (if wrong, please correct me), lots of fluff, Buc-ee's shenanigans (I love that store), Miguel drives a Range Rover (hot, I know. Tyler got that MUNYUN), some jealous Miguel (MY FAVORITE), a hint of jealous reader 🫨 (she has a storm coming lol), simp Miguel if I'm being honest, 18+ so MNDI, male masturbation, wet wet fantasies, both reader and Miguel are h word for each other
word count: 7.1k, damn near proofread (this is only one part of the behemoth)
I did some research on MLE, yachts, superyachts, dolphins, and water activities for this chapter. 🤠 Hopefully, it shows! The yacht size I imagined is somewhere in between a regular yacht and a superyacht/megayacht. I built a Range Rover just for GR!Miguel you guys. (thanks to my irl besties and @slushycoookie once again 🥰)
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GymRat!Miguel who comes back home after nearly a week of bliss with you. He floated all the way home from dropping you off with Tyler’s people.
He made them wait much longer than they needed to when he decided to makeout with you next to the black Suburban. 
Only a few more weeks before he could see you again. 
GymRat!Miguel who is met with his mom sitting on the couch with just the tv glowing on her. 
His steps were too heavy to sneak past her, so he just sighed and settled down on one of the plush chairs. 
“I see you’re home,” she says. Her eyes don’t move from the Golden Girls episode playing softly. 
“Sí, mamá.”
“How come you didn’t tell me where you went?”
“Gabriel told you where I was. I’m sure you asked him.” Miguel was tired already. 
“He did, pero eso no fue lo que te pregunté.” (but that’s not what I asked you)
“Ma-”
“Mijo.”
“You’re not even looking at me.”
“And you’ve sat so far away. Like I’m going to hurt you. Miguel, I asked you to come home. You didn’t respond. You didn’t call. You didn’t even speak to me when you came back a few days ago.”
Miguel stared at her face, willing himself not to get emotional over this. 
“I acknowledge that I should have let you know where I was. I didn’t talk to you because I didn’t want to say something I would regret.”
Conchata finally turned to look at Miguel. Her first-born. The life given to her after so much turmoil. 
She could still see the little boy that would cry at the drop of a hat. She could still see the little boy that would dry up his tears if Gabriel started to cry with him, just to comfort him. The little boy with so much room in his heart. 
She can see him now, face ridden with sadness. A face that she knew too well. 
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, mijo.”
“Well, you did. Again. I’m used to it. This isn’t a new feeling. What is new, is you acting like this towards someone else close to me.”
“I-”
“Let me finish, ma, please. You’ve never been a parent that cares about how I’ve felt in regards to anything. You have made decisions for me without a second thought without ever considering how I might feel. You’ve also never been the type of person who hurts someone else for no reason. I’m sorry I’m not with someone you picked, but I’m not sorry for loving her. She is everything to me. If I were to fall, there’s no doubt in my mind that she would be there to build me back up. She’d probably even break my fall if I couldn’t stop her.” 
Miguel stopped to look up, willing himself not to cry. 
“What you said to her brought something out that she hasn’t felt in a while. You broke her in a way that I promised myself I never would. I wanted to present her to my family in a positive light, to show her off. I didn’t expect you to be ecstatic about her, but I did hope that you could at least open your heart up once you met her.”
He looked off, tears escaping from his eyes. You’re in a better position now, but he won’t know if that donner will creep back up on you, making you hate yourself for something that’s not your fault. He remembered the pain in your voice, how kept it in until you were with him and away from the manor. He hated it. 
“But instead, she was met with two people who paid her no respect. Two people that brought her turmoil. I expected Kron to be horrible, look at how he talked to you, but not you. You were supposed to be better. You didn’t see how much you hurt her, I did. It’s like we prepped for nothing but a shitshow and I should have followed my gut and kept her to myself a little longer.”
Miguel sniffed, wiping at his nose in hopes that it would stop the urge to cry. 
Conchata let the silence rest. Nothing but the TV and her son’s sniffles filled the room. 
“I’m sorry, Miguel.”
Miguel turned back. Shocked that she didn’t put up much of a fight. 
“I just,” she paused. “There’s no excuse for how I treated her. She didn’t deserve it and if I could go back and change my behavior, I would. I think that I was just overwhelmed. Upset because my baby is growing up. He’s moving on and I can’t hold him in my hands anymore. I don’t tuck him in anymore. I don’t have to check under his bed for monsters. He doesn’t need me to do anything. So this shift is hurting me, mijo, and I took it out on the wrong people. For that, I’m so sorry.”
Conchata was a hard-cased woman. She stuck with her opinions, even if they were blatantly wrong. She was proud and vocal. She never let people see her crack or fall under pressure. So, seeing her like this, begging for Miguel to understand her, was a rare moment for Miguel. 
“Ma, me growing up doesn’t stop me from being your son. I’m still here. I’ll still rely on you, but I want you to have a break too. You have to let me grow. I won’t live here forever, but that doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you. I’m glad you were able to express this to me, I just wish you could have said so sooner.”
“Lo siento, mijo.”
Miguel got up to get closer to her. He wrapped her up in his arms, too easy to forgive her. “It’s ok.”
He leans back and kisses her forehead, heart mending by the smallest of stitches. “You still have to apologize to my girlfriend, though.”
“I will when I see her again.”
“And we need to go to therapy.”
“George has already told me.”
“And I want you to make me some ceviche. And tamales.”
“Bueno.”
“And tres leches.” 
She sighed, but squeezed him tighter. “Don’t curse in front of me again, and I’ll consider it.”
“Gracias, mamá.”
“De nada, mijo.”
GymRat!Miguel who goes to sleep with his body feeling a lot lighter. The weight of his relationship with his mom lifted a little off his shoulders.
GymRat!Miguel who has two grand master plans that he’s been setting out for months: eating you out and making your first time together special. 
He’s been overthinking every detail like a maniac. The peaches from the fruit bowl have been disappearing to his room for research purposes only- and a snack of course. 
He once ended up on the girl side of Tik Tok where they complain about everything guys get wrong when pleasuring them. He had been thoroughly reading the comments and taking notes here and there. He didn’t really need the tip about making noise though, he already does that just thinking about you. So many times has he had to stuff his mouth when jerking off. 
He also had a few tabs open in incognito mode. That research is only done in the deep of the night. 
Right now, he’s sitting at his desk reading some article about listening to your partner’s body and his mind can’t help but to wander off. Will you grip your thighs around him? He hopes so. He could die that way. Will you be vocal? Will you tell him if it’s too much? Will you guide his head and pull his hair? 
That last question has him gripping his sweats in anticipation. No doubt when you scratched at his back in the hotel room, he was reeling from the sensation. It was like a reward for him whenever you feel so good, you’re too unaware of what you’re doing to him physically. Too lost in bliss to register the marks and pain you’re leaving on him. You just want him to give you more. 
Miguel drops his pen and pushes the heel of his palm on his growing bulge. 
“Fuck.” Every time about an hour or so into researching, his head is full of you. He imagines what it’ll be like to finally taste you, to be inside you. 
He remembered how wet you got with just a little rubbing. Your body was so responsive to his movements and he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you guys upped the foreplay. 
Miguel leaned back in his chair, arm over his head. He dropped his hand in his sweats hand gripping at the base of his erection, exhaling deep as he gave it a few pumps. 
Your hands on his chest. Your arms around his neck. Your nails scraping his back. Your thighs wrapping around his waist. Your breath on his lips. 
You opening up for him. You dripping down his fingers, down his legs, down his face. You screaming out his name loud enough for the entire neighborhood to file a complaint. You in whatever position he puts you in. He could hold you up. Maybe have your legs in the air or stretched out on the bed. He could have you grabbing for the sheets, the headboard, him. His head in your chest, in your pussy, in your ass. 
Pre-cum spilled onto his stomach, rolling down his shaft. Would you let him go that far?
He doesn’t know what’s worse, the cold showers and teeth-marked arms at the beginning of the relationship or his constant daydreams of your body connecting with his that kept occurring regularly. 
Maybe you felt the same way too. That was a new thought. 
Do you wonder about your first time together? Were you just as excited as him? Do you get wet at the thought of him inside of you? Do you have to stop everything and find pleasure like he does? Were your fingers enough or did you need more?
Miguel continued to move his hand up and down, squeezing occasionally to mimic what you might feel like. 
He’s groaning into his elbow, hips lifting from his desk chair. 
He could almost hear your voice in his ear. Begging, praising, crying out, stuttering. 
GymRat!Miguel who cums as Gabriel slams through the door. In a matter of 15 seconds, Miguel covers his drenched chest, shoves his sensitive dick back down, and grabs napkins to try to wipe away at his hand. 
Nevermind his shirt is now ruined. 
“What the fuck are you looking at and why is this picture showing a seductive pomegranate?”
“Why the fuck are you opening my door without knocking?”
“I did knock! I did our special knock plus a freestyle! I thought you were dead, Miguelito.”
Miguel’s heart felt a little tug despite its rapid tempo, “’M not dead, Gabri. Just busy. I didn’t hear you.”
Gabriel snickered when he got closer to look at his laptop. “I can see why. These tabs are a dead giveaway.” 
Gabriel reached over to stare at Miguel’s notebook. 
“These are some good tips! You shouldn’t expect her to taste like sweets, though.”
Nothing in his notes indicated that, but Miguel wanted to be offended for you anyway. 
Miguel gave Gabriel a hard side eye, mouth set deeply down. 
“I really wish you would get out of my room.”
“Oo, you should buy a rose. Dana loves that thing.”
“I don’t want to hear about whatever freaky shit you and Dana get up to, Gabriel.”
“You’ve caught me in more embarrassing situations, I’m just trying to lighten the mood! I also suggest those candy panties-”
“I’m not putting candy on- Gabriel. Can you please stop talking to me?”
“Miguel, this stuff is important!”
“¿Por qué eres así?” Miguel mumbled. “Ok, yeah. I get it. But you can chat to me about this after I’ve switched shirts.” (Why are you like this?)
“Fine, I’ll come back. Ten minutes. Then we must have a healthy chat about how to have fun safely.”
Gabriel skipped back to the door singing Candy loud enough to be heard as he went back to his own room. 
“Strawberry! Raspberry! All those good things! Violets and gumdrops that’s what you’re saying to me, me, me.”
A black hole would be nice to save himself from this situation. 
GymRat!Miguel who jumps out of his bed the day of the “Yacht Weekend.” Gabriel is dead set on calling it the “Yachty Pawty” and Miguel thinks that’s unbelievably stupid. 
GymRat!Miguel who has to go and pull Gabriel out of his bed to get him to get ready, his body stretching like a ferret. He’s never been a morning person. It’s like his brain didn’t start computing until noon. 
GymRat!Miguel who jogs around the neighborhood to kill time. The weather is a lot cooler in the morning plus it gives Gabriel time to come to reality. He waves to the son of one of his neighbors who gawks at him as he passes by. 
Were his shorts giving away too much again? He didn’t feel a draft. 
He looked down at his crotch. All good. 
GymRat!Miguel who calls you while he stops to take a water break. 
“Amor!” His voice is bright and his smile is radiant, watching as you squint at the screen.
Your cheek is squished against the pillow and you’re wrapped up in your covers. 
“Hey, Miggy. It’s so bright there.”
Your voice was scratchy, a sign of how deep in sleep you were. You were so fucking cute. 
“Are you running?”
He placed his phone on a nearby bench so he could stretch. “Yeah, I’m taking a break.”
He went into a deep lunge, stretching his body low to the ground. 
You went quiet for so long, Miguel thought the call dropped. 
“Baby? Did you go back to sleep?” Miguel asked.
“No, I’m still here. Those pants are,” you started to shuffle your phone. “Really short.”
“Really?” Miguel stood up and looked down at his pants. They did cut off high up his thighs, but they were good for running. Plus, he got hot easily, so he needed as much wind on his skin as possible. “They’re comfy.”
“Mm hm. Can you turn around for me?”
Miguel turned, confused but willing. 
“Got it. Thank you, my muscle bear!”
“What did you just do?”
“Took pictures of your ass. It looks great. I’m gonna hold it real good later.”
Miguel laughed and grabbed his phone. 
“Can I hold yours, too?” He wanted to do way more than hold it. 
You smile sleepily at the camera. “I’ll think about it.”
GymRat!Miguel who lets you stay on the phone while he runs back to the house. 
“You’re just going to hear the wind and me breathing for a few minutes.”
“And I’m fine with that! It’s like boyfriend ASMR. Peaceful.”
GymRat!Miguel who ruffles Gabriel’s hair when he gets back home. He’s staring at the wall and shoveling cereal in his mouth at the slowest pace known to man. 
“Buenos días, hermanito!” (Good morning, little brother)
“Mm.”
GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower to cool off for once and not because he’s having explicit thoughts of you. 
GymRat!Miguel who chugs down a protein smoothie while he waits for Gabriel to come downstairs. 
GymRat!Miguel who answers the door to Dana. She’s got some shades on and a purse with the same texture as a croc. 
She peers over her shades. “You’re looking put together!”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Don’t play dumb. You’re trying to impress your girl! What do you have planned? A dinner on the horizon? A spa date? Oh! No! Another shopping spree?l
Yes. No, but he should arrange that. And absolutely not. He’s not Tyler. 
“No,” Miguel squints. “But how can you tell?”
“You’re easy to read, big guy. Even when you think about her your eyes turn into hearts. When have you ever thought to wear a button down for a roadtrip to the beach?”
“Touche.”
“I’ll figure out what you’re up to. I have my ways.”
She twirls and runs up to Gabriel’s room, leaving a waft of strong perfume after her. 
With that, Miguel knew it would be at least another 45 minutes before he could get on the road. 
GymRat!Miguel who does his special knock on Gabriel’s door. 
“I’m opening it, so you fiends better have your clothes on.”
He swung the door open to the disheveled couple. Dana with her hair astray and Gabriel breathing eerily hard. 
“Seriously, guys? I need to go by the airport.”
“I was just waking him up!” Dana says with a voice that was much hoarser than it was an hour ago. 
“Well,” Miguel put a hand on his hip in a way that anyone could tell he was Conchata O’Hara’s son. “Are you awake, Gabri?”
Gabriel’s face was as red as a tomato as he shook his head no. 
Miguel pitched his voice higher to mimic his brother. “Ten minutes. And then we can have a conversation on time management and respect. Except it won’t be “safely” because I’m going to hurt you.”
GymRat!Miguel who finally backs out of the driveway in exactly ten minutes. Gabriel is rubbing his arm in the passenger seat with a pout on his face. Dana is grinning from ear to ear. 
GymRat!Miguel who hands Gabriel the aux. He might be a silly boy, but his music taste is immaculate.
GymRat!Miguel who almost has to hurt Gabriel again when he doesn’t want to get out of the passenger seat. 
“Why do I have to move?”
“Because I said so.”
“That’s not grounds for anything!”
Dana pokes her head over the console. “Gabie. Read the room. He wants to grip on to his girl while he drives with one hand. Show off.” 
GymRat!Miguel who kisses you and grabs your bags at the same time when he sees you. The cars around are loud, honking sporadically. People are walking and running to catch cabs or get to their loved ones. Workers are trying to direct the traffic. 
It all quiets down when he meets your eyes. 
“Hola, mi amor.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close. “Hello to you too, my love.”
You smile up until he presses his lips against yours. More and more pecks follow after that. 
He holds his nose to yours, completely enraptured by your presence. 
“Oh my god, let’s go!” Gabriel shouts from the car, pressing his palm against the steering wheel. 
“You’re not the one driving, pinche pendejo!”
You giggle and stand on your tippy toes to try and see over Miguel’s shoulder. You’re still too short so you lean sideways. Miguel melts. 
“Just a few more and we’ll be done Gabriel!”
“Fine. For you, I’ll let it slide.”
You stand back up straight and kiss Miguel a little more. 
GymRat!Miguel who does reach over and grip your thigh. If Gabriella and Troy weren’t in the back belting, he’d hike his hand up further. 
“Right now I can hardly breathe!” Gabriel pivots his head towards Dana dramatically, water bottle a faux mic. 
“Oh! You can do it, just know that I believe.” Dana is touching his chest dramatically. 
“Are they always like this?” You ask, laughing a little at their antics. 
Miguel groans in annoyance. “Yes.”
GymRat!Miguel who nearly sprints out the car when he parks by a pump. He’s been riding for a bit and he needs to stretch his legs. 
“Miggy, you want something from the store?” 
You’re standing next to the car, the wind blowing your hair back. Your jacket blows away a little, showing off the tight little outfit you’re sporting. You’re beautiful. 
He wants to break you down in the front seat of his car.
He swallows the thought. “I’ll come in there soon, don’t worry.”
You walk in the giant gas station and head immediately to the Icee machines. For the best possible experience, you should wait until it’s time to go before buying it. 
As you’re walking along the wall wondering what flavor you should get, you feel a tug at your arm. 
You turn to see Dana with some bottles in her hand. 
“I don’t know what he’s planning, but trust me when I say, you should take these.”
You frown as you take the cranberry juice. “Um.”
“I’ve been around those two long enough to know when one of them is up to something. I mean Gabriel hasn’t said anything off, but look at how he’s bopping around the store.”
You turn and look. 
He is indeed bouncing more than usual. He’s so tall that if he puts even more pep in his step, he might just break a hole in the ceiling. 
“Ok,” you turn back to Dana while fighting a laugh. “So they are planning something. What does that have to do with me and cranberry juice?”
“Gabie tries his best to use bro code, but I quite literally suck the information out of him sometimes. He caught Miguel looking at lots of articles about pleasuring his partner. With his mouth. That’s all I know for now.”
Your heart picks up. He was still going on about that?
“That might just be a coincidence.” 
“He’s wearing damn near beach attire with his hair styled. He held onto your thigh for an hour, even when the turns got tough. He stared at you walking into the store even until he couldn’t see you anymore.”
You bit your lip. “Those last two things are standard Miguel behavior.”
Dana huffs and spins you around. 
Across the store, you could see Miguel and Gabriel huddled over something. Miguel with his eyes focused and Gabriel animatedly explaining something. Every once in a while, Miguel would nod and roll his eyes up as if he was mentally checking on something. 
You sigh and turn back around. 
“Do they sell pineapples too?”
GymRat!Miguel who looms over you while you and Dana are looking at some cakes. You look up at him, pressing your head against his chest. 
Miguel kissed your forehead when you beamed at him. 
He looked over to Gabriel who was also crowding Dana and shouted, “¡Vamos!”
In a matter of seconds, Miguel had lifted you and brought you to the middle of the store where the workers were cooking up fresh meat. 
You squeal in shock and laugh on the way over. Miguel’s not even struggling. 
Gabriel on the other hand huffs as he places Dana down. 
“You need to work on that, babe.”
“I can lift you when I want to!” Gabriel replies, petulant. 
“For like one minute maybe. Why don’t you start working out with Miguel?”
“No thanks.” They both said in unison, almost carbon copies of each other. 
Really, if Miguel didn’t work out, or if Gabriel did for about a year, they could definitely play off as twins. Only subtle things separating them, like Gabriel’s freckles, softer face, and slightly shorter height and Miguel’s less curly hair, thicker eyebrows, and deeper voice. 
In your eyes, their bond was precious. You wondered what their baby pictures looked like. 
“You guys are so cute,” you say, reaching up to squeeze both of their cheeks. 
They both melt the same way in your hands. Miguel’s face is only a little bit hotter against your palm. 
GymRat!Miguel who presses up against you while you both check out. You stay nonchalant and talk to the cashier like normal, but you could feel Miguel’s heartbeat through your thin romper. 
Every breath he took molded on your skin, his chest rising and falling against your head. 
He kept steady hands on your hips and waist, only moving them to pay for your snacks. 
The cashier would take not-so-subtle breaks to stare up at him, face getting redder after each glance. 
You could only think “me too, girl.”
He really did look good today. His shirt was open a little lower than normal, his shorts loose but tightening around his thighs with every step he took. His hair was slicked back with a few strands falling loose and shades sat perfectly on top of his head. A chain danced around his neck, the color glowing on his pretty skin. He was tanner than usual, the sun making him glow after so many morning runs. 
To top it off he smelled really good. You wanted to lick him. 
From how slow the cashier was moving, you knew she was ready to take a lick too. 
You took moments like this in stride. Especially when Miguel was pressed so hard against you, you could feel his dick at the small of your back. 
Still, when people still tried to hit on your boyfriend or gawked at him even when you caught them, it was hard not feel frustrated about others thinking he can be taken from you. Or just ignoring you. 
More often than not, Miguel would bring you back down to earth with some action to let others know that he’s taken. 
Today, it was a kiss to your neck and a smack to your ass followed by his hand rubbing circles in the same spot. 
He grabbed the bags in one hand and your hip in the other. 
You looked back to the cashier scanning the next customer far more aggressively than before.  
GymRat!Miguel who eats half of his sandwich before starting the car back up. 
You still place the other half in front of his mouth, feeding him occasionally. 
He just smiles before and after each bite. Giddy with attention. You wipe his mouth to stop sauce from spilling from his shirt. 
Miguel almost turns the car into turbo drive. 
GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to the beach an hour or so later. It’s late Thursday afternoon, so the sun is still shining bright. 
Gabriel is excited to finally be free from the tight back seat so he uses the opportunity to blast music from Miguel’s stereo. 
“C’mon, Dana! Dance with me,” Gabriel said, pulling her out of the back seat and bringing her to the front of the var. “Let’s have a twerk-off.”
You can’t stop the laugh that spills out of your mouth. You couldn’t imagine either of them shaking anything. 
“I can not twerk and you know it!”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t shake. Don’t be shy now!”
You and Miguel get out of the car to stretch, Miguel watching the two over the hood of the car, unphased. 
Gabriel turns to you with a glint in his eyes. “Can you twerk?”
You were ready to shake your ass on a yacht after some liquid courage, but you didn’t mind a little dancing beforehand. 
You hurried to the front before the song was over and put your hands on the hood. You bend over with an arch in your back and move your ass to the beat of the song. 
You hear Gabriel shout, “Oh shit! Go, go, go!”
Dana sprints, nearly bulldozing Gabriel to stand behind you and catch it. You laugh at the two and bend even deeper, encouraged by their cheers. 
GymRat!Miguel whose eyes nearly pop out of his head when you bend over. 
When did you learn how to do that?
He’s stunned for a second until he reaches inside the car and turns the radio off. He’s going to kill Gabriel. 
Miguel hurries to the front and picks Dana up by her armpits to move her aside. “You guys are wasting my gas and neither you or you are CashApping me shit.”
He straightens you up and pulls your risen romper back over your ass. He stands behind you like a bodyguard, arms crossed and frown deepening. 
“I don’t know what you think we’re going to be doing on this yacht, but all of my girls are throwing it back. You need to prepare yourself, Mig.” Dana scoffs, mostly offended that Miguel just removed her from a dream spot. 
“Yeah, Mig. Be mindful of why you were invited to the function,” Gabriel turned his nose up and wrapped his arm around Dana. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, m’lady.”
Gabriel bowed to you and you curtsied back with a fake dress. The two of them walked like royalty to the trunk, gathering their bags. 
GymRat!Miguel who stuttered trying to explain himself when you turned to him. 
“Is it going to be a problem for you that I’m dancing with others?”
“No!” he said way too fast. 
You gave him a look with your eyebrow raised. 
“You just,” he paused. His voice got quieter as he played with the strap of your romper. “You never danced on me before.”
He had a pout on his face, mouth turned like a duck. 
“Oh my god, Miguel. I can dance on you if you would like. You just have to ask.” He was so cute. You’ve never seen him get that jealous before. 
You kind of want to play with him some more. 
“Can you dance on me later?” he asks, not daring to meet your eyes. 
“Of course.”
You giggle as you kiss his cheek. His pout slowly disappearing from his face. 
GymRat!Miguel who is greeted by the enthusiastic captain with a shake that moves his entire arm. He’s a jolly little fellow, cheeks rosy and his mustache curled on the ends. He was also strangely stocky. He reminded Miguel of Santa Claus if he took vacations in the Bahamas when he’s not at the North Pole. 
“I take it you’re Mr. Stone’s son, yes?”
“That would be me.”
“Excellent! Excellent. Your father has told me quite a lot about you. You sure do take after his height. My name is Captain Barrett and I’ll be steering the boat for you youngins this weekend. Me and your father go way back. And between you and me, I was better lookin’!”
Miguel chuckles awkwardly, trying to move the conversation along. 
He finally looks past Miguel and sees the three of you standing there. 
“And who might you three be?”
“This is my younger brother, Gabriel. His girlfriend, Dana.” 
“And this is my girlfriend.” Miguel moves by your side and wraps his arm around your shoulders. His tone is full of warmth as he says your name. 
“It’s nice to meet you all. Will you all be in our cabins this weekend?”
“Yeah, this is four of the ten staying on board. The others won’t get here until tomorrow at noon.”
“Is Kron supposed to be joining you all too?”
Miguel stiffens, his grip on your shoulder a little firmer. 
“Not that I know of, no.”
“Perfect! He ruined my other boat and it took me ages to clean it up. Hopefully, you’re nothing like him.” Captain Barrett does a little pleading gesture with his hands. 
“Welp, follow me and I’ll show you on board!”
GymRat!Miguel who is still stunned by the amount of things money can buy when he sees the yacht. He’ll never get used to the life of luxury that Tyler introduces to him. 
“Holy shit,” Gabriel mutters as he stares up at the black and wooden beauty of the deck. Dana elbows in his side, telling him to be polite in front of the captain. 
“Welcome to Black Jack.”
There were crew members there to hand out fancy smoothies and grab everyone’s bags. 
You had seen yachts on some of your old high school classmates’ Insta stories but this was beyond. 
“I’d like to introduce you guys to the crew. They’ll be assisting me to give you youngins a good time.”
Captain Barrett ran down the line and you all greeted every person. Miguel made mental notes of their names. They’ll be getting close with all of the surprises he had planned for you. 
“And this is my son, Blake! He’ll be helping me up in the cockpit.”
Miguel stopped to shake his hand. 
He was like the textbook definition of a pretty frat boy. Tall, but not O’Hara tall, tan, and handsome. He smiled and showed a straight line of teeth, dimples peeking through. 
“Nice to meet you, Miguel. Kron’s really not coming?”
What’s with people asking about that dickhead today?
“Nope. Just us and our friends. If he does come, it’s news to me.” 
Blake went to shake your hand and it was like he started to glow under the sun. His smile went up to his eyes and he mimicked the heartthrobs in the movies Miguel’s cousins watched growing up. 
“And who’s this?”
“My name is-”
“My girlfriend,” Miguel said before you could even finish. 
You looked up at him in shock, laughing it off. “That too, but I have a name.” You respond to Blake and shake his hand. 
Miguel doesn’t like how his eyes scan your body. It was subtle, but he caught it. 
Even as you all finish up greetings, Blake is still making moves towards you. The type of flirting that probably flew over your head, but Miguel has been around enough guys like him to know exactly what it was. 
 “So is this your first time on a boat?” Blake asked you while he guided you guys to your room. 
“No, actually. But it’s definitely my first time on a yacht, especially one this huge.”
Miguel followed behind with Dana and Gabriel.
“Is this your first time on a boat?” Miguel mocked Blake quietly, mouth scrunched up. 
“‘La envidia esta flaca, porque muerde y no come,’” Gabriel replied. “You’re turning green from your neck, bro. He’s just being nice.” (Envy is thin, because it bites and does not eat.)
“No, he’s definitely flirting,” Dana quipped. “He’s not even paying the rest of us any attention.”
“Thank you, Dana. And Gabriel, don’t ever quote a Spaniard to me again.”
“How do you call that flirting? He’s not even-” Gabriel paused as Blake laughed really loud at something that you said with his hand guiding you way too close on your ass. “Ah shit.”
Miguel stomped towards you two, yanking Blake’s hand off of you and replacing it with his. 
“I think we’ve got it from here. You can show those two where they’ll be staying. Thanks,” Miguel nods his head towards Dana and Gabriel with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 
“Right,” Blake responds to him with a blank face. “I’ll see you up on the deck.” Blake winks at you before walking further. 
“Don’t kill him, Miguel,” Dana pats his shoulder as she walks by. 
“You’ve got my permission to hurt him if he touches me one more time though,” you say, snuggling close to Miguel and patting at his chest. 
“So, I’m killing him. Got it.”
GymRat!Miguel who watches you twirl around the VIP suite. 
“Miguel! This is so beautiful! Look at the view.”
“Oh my god! There’s a walk-in closet!”
“There’s a bidet! How’d they fit that and a shower in here?”
Miguel leaned on the doorway, watching you comment on every little thing. 
You made sure to start to spray everything with Lysol, a habit from your mom when traveling. 
While you were in the bathroom, Miguel got out one of his first gifts of the night. 
It was another keychain to add to your collection. He’s been working hard to have this weekend make up for the awful dinner night. 
He placed it on the bed and started to open his bag to grab his pajamas. 
“What’s this?” you ask, coming out to spray the bed. 
“Just a little gift for you.”
“Aw, this is so cute!” Your voice gets higher as you take in the little legos. “They even look like us! When did you get these?”
“I got them made about a week ago. You like them?”
“I love them! Thank you, Miggy.”
GymRat!Miguel who wants to moan when you walk out. 
You guys are going on a double date with Gabriel and Dana at a casual-not-so-casual restaurant farther in the city. That didn’t stop you from getting all dolled up. 
You walk to him on the bed, standing in between his legs. 
“Amor,” Miguel said, rubbing his hands up and down your backside. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you. So do you,” you responded, careful to not run your hands through his hair. It was a comfort for you, but you didn’t want to ruin it. 
Instead, you bent down to kiss him in the quiet of the room. The sun was still out, but a lot dimmer than before. Little patches of sunlight caught Miguel’s eyes. The color was so deeply brown, you swore you saw speckles of red throughout. 
He moved to sit you on his lap, glancing over every detail of your body. 
“You’re making it harder for me to want to leave.”
“It’s funny that you say that. You’ve been walking around like you’re straight out of a beach movie. Chest out and legs for days.”
Miguel blushed and put his head in your chest, bending you back and holding you so you won’t fall. 
“What are you hiding for? It’s true!” you laugh as Miguel seemed to burrow his face deeper. 
“Yeah, but you don’t have to call me out.” He was just trying to impress you, per usual. 
GymRat!Miguel who gets nervous on the way to the restaurant. It was one of those immersive experiences with projections on the plates that told stories with the meals. They were pretty cute to Miguel and he figured that all three of you guys would love it. 
The only thing is, he pulled some strings with Tyler to add an extra animation in there. He’s not sure how much that cost, but he’s glad he didn’t have to see the price. 
GymRat!Miguel who side-eyes Gabriel when he just about screams as the little chef walks across the animated place. 
“He’s so tiny!” he whisper-shouts. “So precious!”
By the time the first course comes out Gabriel is fighting tears. 
“Control it, Gabri,” Miguel says, rubbing his back. 
“I’m trying. I really am.”
GymRat!Miguel whose heart blooms when you laugh at one of the scenes. The little chef is squabbling with a giant shrimp and losing the battle. 
GymRat!Miguel whose heart speeds up when the special animation starts up. 
Only the two of your plates are lit up. There’s a river of chocolate that separates the two. From Miguel’s plate, there’s a little version of him that calls to your plate. He watches as your eyes grow when a mini you climbs on top of the plate and yells back. Your character throws him a kiss, sending a pink flutter across the river. The wave of it goes straight to mini Miguel’s heart who in turn, falls backwards dramatically. 
The real you lets out a watery laugh at the scene, eyes looking at Miguel briefly in shock. 
Mini Miguel jumps back up and gets to work, digging around the plate to grab biscoff cookies from the chocolate ocean to make a boat. While he works, your character wanders around the plate cutely, tidying up the area for his arrival. 
When the boat is finished, Mini Miguel uses a giant spoon to steer the boat, singing out brightly the closer he gets to you. The mini you is jumping up and down, cheering him on just like you do in real life. 
Once he gets to the edge of your plate, you lean close to give him a kiss. He climbs from the boat onto the plate and spins you around. You giggle in his hold until he lets you down. 
From there, he starts to use the spoon to drag a chocolate message across the plate. He takes confident steps, spreading the brown syrup across the plate with ease. 
“Tú eres mi luz.” (You are my light.)
When he finishes it, you both sit at the edge of the plate, feeding each other scoops of chocolate from the giant spoon. They both look up at you to wave, the Mini Miguel cheesing extremely hard as he waves both arms. 
The animation fades away in a wave of browns and pinks, the waiters bringing out the actual plates of food. 
The floodgates open when you’re presented with the same chocolate message, a slice of chocolate biscoff cake, and little chocolate decorations of the mini you and Miguel. 
“Oh my god, the spoon is here too,” you say with emotion, picking up a chocolate coated spoon. “Miguel!”
You don't know what to do. You keep fanning your face in hopes to stop the tears from coming out and ruining the light makeup you had on. Dana hands you a pointed napkin and you thank her while holding your head back. 
Gabriel is a mess, faces wet with tears. His cheeks are round as he blows out air to control his breathing. 
“I didn’t mean to make you cry, mi amor,” Miguel’s face is ridden with worry as he reaches across the table to grab your hand. He looks to Gabriel and sighs, “You either, hermanito.” (little brother)
“I’m good. I gotta just,” Gabriel waves a hand in front of his face cutely. “Just gotta get this out. If you’ll excuse me.” 
He gets up to shuffle to the bathroom. 
“I better go help him out. He gets a little delirious when he cries like that,” Dana says, rubbing your shoulder as she leaves the table. 
Miguel wastes no time to sit in Dana’s seat, taking the napkin from your hands and wiping carefully at your tears. 
“I love you. So, so much,” you say, resting your face in his hands. “Everyday, you find new ways to surprise me. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m just…”
You pause, waving your hands in the air, unable to express how you felt. Just thinking about it has the tears spilling over again. 
“Hey, hey,” Miguel chides, catching your tears again. “If you keep crying, I’m going to cry.”
“I can’t help it, Miguel! You made a cookie boat to get to me. How can I not cry?”
Miguel reaches to kiss your cheeks in hopes to help you subside the tears, “I know, baby, I know. But to answer your first thought, when I think of you, the ideas just pour out of me. You’re my first true love, so I don’t know all the ends and outs of a relationship, but I do know what it feels like to be loved. I just want to extend that feeling to you.”
You stare in awe and the man sitting next to you, eyes glistening as you take in his words. 
“I think I need another tissue.”
Miguel laughs as he grabs one to pat at your face again. 
GymRat!Miguel who feeds you bites of the cake while you feed him scoops of ice cream when you’ve calmed down. You can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night. 
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divider by: @iwonbin 🩵
Part 9.2 here!
a/n: This is half of the chapter, but I had so much fun writing this! (mostly because I was not doing my actual work while writing half of it), especially Gabriel's silly ass. Like, it was super duper fun. Writing jealous Miguel was also great. There's so much stuff about reader that he was unaware of and I've been imagining him sitting at a table and yelling like Kendrick when it all plays back in his mind.
As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵
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whoblewboobear · 2 days
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There have been a lot of negative posts about how this season turned out bc of the rat grinders exclusively and everyone is entitled to their opinions on the season. But in light of it, I’m gonna throw out some positives about this season 💖
Sophomore year will always hold a special place in my heart because of the Fabian arc but Junior year might be my favorite fantasy high season overall. I loved learning about Ankarna and Cassandra. I thought I’d be bummed out not seeing some of my fave npcs but the downtime mechanic and the stress tokens added sO much. The Porter & Jace reveal was incredible. KRISTEN’S CAMPAIGN ARC!!! Fabian and Mazey!? K2 and all the blimey shenanigans 👏 Everything with Wanda Childa and Ruben and fig’s complicated women podcast was sooooo funny. I genuinely laughed harder this season than I have with any other d20 season I’ve seen.
I feel like with this season they really hit their stride with pacing too. It felt a lot more fluid with how we rolled into combat most of the time. I loved that first party of the year and seeing Adaine become the party wizard. After ep 18 it makes me love the party with the Oisin missing his shots so much more bc he got in that nasty little one liner later. I adored that the rat grinders were essentially a red herring to keep the bad kids looking elsewhere to take the heat off Porter and Jace a bit.
We didn’t see much from all of them, and we didn’t see nearly enough about Lucy, but I really loved the Rat grinders as in school rivals for the bad kids. Ruben was hands down my favorite but goddamn did I also love how much of a girlfailure Kip was. I loved seeing her rage out and I hope we get to see her really go nuts in the finale too. I really really warmed up to Mary Ann last episode with her tugging on Jace’s shirt and saying she didn’t feel good and then seeing her rage when her strawberry got destroyed. She’s so fascinating to meeee. I loved everything with Buddy and Kristen. I wish they had more scenes together. And while I’m talking about the Dawns, that entrance from Bobby Dawn as the new cleric teacher made my skin crawl in the best way. I loved Kristen calling him frumpy and sad on her teacher evaluation too- and holy shit Fig meeting Ankarna for the first time? Ankarna being the inspiration Fig needed to make music again too?
The incredible art from Cait May this season was hands down one of my FAVORITE d20 artist collabs ever. Just overall improved designs for everyone that just make so much more sense for their characters and art for new characters that made me adore them even more. Also holy shit the Porter maxi is genuinely my favorite mini that’s ever been featured on the show. I’m typically not into how the minis look in general, they always look a lil goofy to me but goddamn when they hit, they fuckin HIT.
And speaking of Porter, I really got endeared to him this season. Yeah he turned out evil and always has been a dick to gorgug and is definitely a shit teacher, but before the reveal I loved his training with Fig and Zara. One thing about Fantasy high is that I just love a lot of the teachers. My two faves this season being Terpsichore and Henry! They’re both so dedicated to their students and are such a specific type of teacher that you’ve definitely met before in real life. Like all my favorite math teachers back in school were so much like Henry and that made me love him even more.
Of course my #1 favorite thing about the world of Spyre is the religion aspect and how Brennan and Ally both approach it. That scene with Ally connecting with Yolanda and Lucy to allow them some comfort in the afterlife was so beautiful. Kristen’s talks with Bucky throughout the season were very touching and hit very close to home as someone that grew up in a religious household and doesn’t connect with the divinity I was raised on. Just- wow wow wow. I also really love that despite the breakup, Tracker and Kristen still have really interesting convos about divinity even if they don’t agree.
I loved seeing different dynamics in the bad kids too, I love the huge sibling energy that Fabian and Adaine have and the bond that Kristen and Fig have. I love how interwoven all the bad kids feel as a group. I love the little quirks that they all have, and I loved all the fandom posts about them like the sharing clothes posts and the one about how everyone lets Riz crawl on them to get better vantage points. I love Riz’s wall of text breaking down to gorgug about how much he appreciates him. Him calling gorgug a sweetie almost made me cry. I of course love all the parent/child moments this season. I loved the bad kids finally healing Lydia and seeing how happy it made Ragh. I LOVE Aelwyn and all her cats 🤧 I loved seeing Baron again and I loved how the bad kids got to the funhouse version of mordred through riz’s briefcase. I love seeing Adaine and Sandralynn bond. I loved finding out that Sandralynn and Sklonda go out for drinks and are friends. I just 💖 and goddamn, Ayda’s message to Fig and how Zara helped to surprise Fig with it. I love how Bill and Pok are such proud dads of their boys and I hope they’re doing some bonding over drinks in the after life.
And I cannot end this post without saying that I loved how cinematic this season felt too. It had INCREDIBLE imagery that you could easily visualize. Everyone at the table was in their element this time around from a role playing and a strategic standpoint. Everyone had their moment to shine and something important to do this season that fed back into the main plot. So thank you to Brennan and the intrepid heroes for giving us another killer season. After the season ended I was planning to finish Starstruck and Neverafter but I might just rewatch Junior year all over again just to get it out of my system.
Feel free to add things you loved about Junior year!
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seaswallovvme · 2 days
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You are the one I’d come looking for. Over and over and over again
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A/N: I am SO sorry for this but I can’t believe I’ve never seen a fanfic like this so I took it upon myself to write it. No beta reading or editing. We die like..nevermind
TW: angst, hurt and comfort, leprosy? No one is dying!!
People had thought her foolish for longer than she could think.
A pretty, young maiden from a good house, wealthy parents with political influence others could only dream of and yet she had chosen to marry a leper.
The king of Jerusalem was well known around nobility for more than just that of course, having won the battle of Montgisard against the Arabs at such young age seemed like a miracle from God above.
Even before that she had been by his side and it was not the fortunes, glory or status that had interested her which would no doubt be beneficial side effects of being married to him.
No young woman in her right mind would have willingly accepted the hand of a man doomed and she could hardly blame them.
Her parents had approved of the marriage as their hands were bound, depending on trade offers and the generosity of the holy land for their own existence.
Even then, when the letter from the court of Jerusalem had arrived they had been worried about the future of their darling girl.
Everyone had been, even nobility from far away and the news of King Baldwins marriage had spread quickly and then the whispering began.
She had never been bothered by the likes of them, faithful to her new husband who treated her with utmost care, she had everything she could have ever asked for and more.
He was a good man, gentle and wise for his age and he was grateful she had accepted his hand in marriage, he would have been a fool to not treat her well.
To him it was more than a political match propagating his strength to the outside kingdoms and his own.
To him this young woman was home, acceptance and love.
Despite all this their marriage was a slightly unusual one.
They had never been able to kiss nor were they able to consummate the marriage in a way deemed proper, the king refusing to risk contagion and his physicians agreed with him.
Despite all this she had never minded the lack of physicality in their marriage all that much.
She cared about him in a way that was beyond desires of the flesh, what they shared came close to holiness.
They talked a lot, shared poems and stories when she would caress his bandaged hands.
She would spend the late evenings in their shared chambers, after a tremendous amount of convincing, finally applying ointments to his sore, blistered skin to help it slow the spreading.
She would caress his bare back with fingers gentle as if she feared he would disappear into thin air, like a vision or a daydream, is she dared touching him too firmly.
In their eyes those sacred moments were almost enough but of course even the fate of the most pure could be harsh more often than not.
It started with a pale rash on her side, right over her ribs.
At first she had been sure it had come from spending too much time in the stables, perhaps she had been bitten by an insect.
Then one night when she had just finished brushing her hair before going to bed she noticed the tingling numbness in her fingers and feet.
It started slowly, like tiny ants crawling over her skin, not painful but the recognition was and she could feel her heart drop.
Though it wasn’t herself she feared for.
Baldwin let his best physicians be called to their shared chambers immediately.
After the three men had taken a look at her, whispering in a foreign language with their eyes drooped with worry and told them how deeply sorry they were the young king wished for his instant death.
He had always had a hard time being kind to himself, never to others but the wave of agony that rolled over him threatened to swallow him whole, burning like a demonic fury.
Her own eyes brimmed with tears and she sat up after the physicians had left, so frightened for her husband who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his masked face buried in his hands with his shoulders trembling.
There was no use denying that she had caught the disease.
It was only a matter of time, she is playing with fire, others had whispered behind her back when they thought she wasn’t listening.
“Baldwin..” crawling up on the bed right behind him she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
The gesture that had comforted him even in his worst moments now seemed to shatter his heart even more so.
“I have been so foolish..my beautiful, beautiful angel” he whispered, his voice dying in his throat and when he raised his head his eyes were flooded with tears.
He was trembling as he spoke and she was frightened as he nearly seemed mad with grief.
“You should have never come here..I should have never asked anyone, you, to put themselves in danger for my foolishness. If the Lord wants to punish me so be it but why would he wish to punish you of all people? When it was I who was selfish?”
She only noticed that she too was crying when she tasted the salt on her lips, wiping it with shaking fingers.
“Do not say such things..you are not selfish, nor foolish. It was I who made the decision to accept the offer to marry you with the pain and dangers that I was warned of. And I swear to you that even now I do not regret our vows, a single day or night we spent together”
Reaching out for him he cupped his cheek, a pained smile gracing her features in the soft candle light of his chambers.
“Please do not blame yourself my love. I am not scared of my fate but I am scared of losing you, whether it be to grief or shame. I beg of you, don’t leave me now”
There had never been a moment where Baldwin had to fight against contempt for himself as in this very moment.
He disdained himself for causing her to share his fate when he should have been the one to be level headed, keeping a distance for her own safety when in reality he was the one searching for her warmth like a frightened little boy.
Now there was no use avoiding her, he recognised with bitterness seeping like pus from an open wound.
Now it was too late, the die had been cast but all words of comfort, an apology he could have offered her seemed to be worthless now and he knew this sweet, innocent girl would not hear it.
How wonderfully stubborn she could be sometimes, with too much love to give and headstrong to a point where it was almost unbecoming for a woman but he wouldn’t have it any differently.
“Come now” she murmured, shuffling on the bed to slip underneath the covers.
The silken sheets were cool against her skin and a part of her wondered for how long she would be able to feel them at all.
She pulled him in as she did every night since they had exchanged their vows, his head resting against her shoulder and she caressed his soft hair soothingly.
“The promise of God is not that He will never give us more weight than we want to carry. The promise of God is that He will never put more on us than we can bear.”
Her voice was so soft as she spoke, without a tremor and she was not scared anymore.
Not for herself nor for him, not when God was watching over them, not when her love for him burned stronger than ever and she could feel his heart beating, so alive and warm in his chest.
“Let us not waste the precious time we have..not a second”
This was something the young king could not disagree with and how eager he was for her comfort if that meant to comfort her.
Now he had to be strong for her sake when she needed him now more than ever before, and she was right.
The promise of God is that He will never put more on us than we can bear, no matter how heavy the burden can be in the darkest times.
He shuddered when he felt her gentle fingers sliding the silver mask off his face as she had done many times before but something about it now felt different.
His eyes were wide, still glossy and red, his face scarred severely but she could only see the man she loved more than anyone or anything.
They looked at each other for what felt like hours, the fingers of one hand entwined, the other on each others cheek, stroking over skin, gently brushing a strand of hair behind one’s ear.
She was the one to lean in first and to him the feeling of her soft lips on his, for the first time ever felt like he was being reborn.
The kiss was clumsy with inexperience but it could not have been more raw and honest.
She kissed him like she didn’t care about his disfigured lips and he kissed her like it was the last thing he would ever do.
Both of them kissed like they had been starving for this and now there was nothing left to lose and by the end of the kiss both of them were crying.
A soft sob rose in his chest, fading into a huffed out laugh and he seemed drunk with fondness for her.
She only smiled, wiping his tears as he wiped hers before leaning in again to kiss her warm, soft lips once more with more urgency this time, in disbelief that he would get to experience something like this after all.
Something that made him feel less alone, more like any normal young man instead.
A wave of warmth flooded him when he felt a small, soft hand slip underneath his nightgown, resting on his bare stomach and when he pulled away from the kiss, his cheeks flushed he recognised the desire in her eyes.
Honest and playful as she was and despite his nervously racing heart he gave her the most timid nod.
There was no fear within either of them now, uncertainty perhaps and pain surely, worry about what the future might bring but they had each other after all.
Each other and a life time left to love, however long that might be.
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digitaldollsworld · 9 months
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Oh did I ever post my new Dangan OCs on here. Look at them look at them
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favroitecrime · 11 months
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just finished 12 season of bob’s burgers and i’m not ready for the movie not season 13
#i wanted to prolong this bas alas#i’ve seen some animation pics from the movie and it looks GOOD#also season 12 was really great arc wise imo it really had the kids address themselves and their behaviors which i adored#i love the kids a lot a lot actually and i love joining bob and linda watching them grow up#i love the moments louise decides she wants people to have fun#and i love when tina has moments where she realizes she doesn’t need the group of friends she’s built#but also she’s embraced their friendship as well especially with the boys#a whole episode where willingly hung out with and helped zeke is IMMENSE growth on her part ESPECIALLY when jimmy jr wasn’t even there#also while she’s still 13 and her crush on jj is still there she’s accepted him as a friend and has learned to treat that friendship nicely#and i love that she’s allowed herself the room to be mean to him too sometimes cause he deserves it whack him again for me T!#AND GENE my baby who is funny enough imo the most similar to bob#like all kids have some traits they’ve got from him and linda but gene reminds me of him in funny ways esp a younger version of him#i really believe bob would’ve been more like gene had his mother not passed and his father not gotten distant#but anyway gene’s seriousness and the way he behaved in the locker love mv episode stood out to me personally#but also the creativity that exists in them both and is expressed so beautifully with what they love#bob with his burgers and gene with his music#and then also tina with her writing and louise with her scheming#but also gene not being too clingy with linda this season is such a refresher cause that was getting too much too weird#and louise is my babh i could talk for hours about her actually#and then bob and linda and their evergrowing love for each other#and then for their kids who they want the best for and it’s starting to become obvious to them that their kids are gonna need them a lot#more often because this season and i’m gonna assume the movie and the next season are gonna introduce more insecurities into the kids’ lives#which isn’t to say they weren’t there before or weren’t insecure before but i think it’ll continue to be pointed out more#they’ve done a wonderful job of raising their babies to be as expressive of themselves as they want to but the world as we saw in the season#12 finale isn’t ready for that kind of expression and it’s gonna hit the kids pretty hard because they’re all weird and different and the#kind of weird and different the world chews and spits out so they’re gonna need to fall back heavily on their parents as well as their#circles which the show developed more this season#with tina and the kids krew and then gene with his growing friendship with courtney and alex and even peter#and then louise and her friendship with rudy and ollie and andy and jessica and millie#tag: bob’s burgers watch
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tiredsadpeach · 1 year
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May not feel great rn but tomorrow I get to see my best friend and we’re exchanging gifts and then afterward I’m going with my sister to pick up a cat
#I don’t talk about this best friend on here a lot lately but he’s great and I love him#platonically and romantically#I’ve had a crush on him for uhh 9 years teehee#he doesn’t know I still feel that way or at least I hope he doesn’t because I don’t wanna make him uncomfy#we dated back in 2013 but I was a pos then and cheated on him because I give in to peer pressure#I’m serious about that btw like the chick that convinced me to cheat when we were official I went over to a friends house and she thought I#would cheat on her because I was so easy to convince the first time lmao#anyway that was forever ago and I am very very different now and would kill past me tbh for that teehee#this is the best friend that stayed with me after I cut off everyone because they stayed friends with my abuser#he’s literally the fucking best and I love him so much and I hope we always stay friends despite my Crazy lol#but also CAT INFOOOO okay so me and my sister went to our local pet store and they partner with a specific shelter? idk I can’t give the#name out because the only pet store listed on their website is the one we go to and that’s too much info about where I live lmao#ANYWAY I was more just showing her the two 4 month old brothers I saw the other day because they’re cute and I was hoping I’d see they were#adopted which they weren’t but they’re chatty kittens they’ll be gone soon tbh probably snatched up for Christmas#but so I had just been there two days ago on the 16th and we went on the 18th and one new cat was there#a 1 1/2 year old black cat named Morticia!! she was so cute they had a hot pink collar and bell on her and her file said she gets along well#with dogs and other cats (perfect for us we live with our parents still so full house) and it said she loves to be held and talked to ☹️☹️☹️#and her arrival date? the 16th so I just missed her but ALSO that’s one of our family dog’s birthday he turned 5 that day!!#also learned today Morticia had three kittens who have all been adopted and you’ll never guess their names#Wednesday pugsly and thing teehee#the fact that cat is just named Thing is so fucking funny#anyway my sister was petting her and she rolled into it ☹️ got head scratches and ear rubs and THEN I was filling out the application for he#while we waited for our parents to call us back and Morticia LAID HER HEAD IN MY SISTERS HAND ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️#so yeah my sister fell in love and the naming matches so well with her other cat who is about 2 years old now who’s a long haired tortoise#named Magnolia !! she’s a really chill cat who when it comes to other cats if the cat likes her she likes the cat but she’s also the younges#cat we have rn but my cats half adore her and half dgaf like my older two just want to be left alone by the animals and loved on by humans#but my younger two (8 and 5) still act like babies and run around like kittens so they love magnolia and she loves them so I have no doubt#Morticia is gonna fit in just fine and we don’t have to change her name!!#idk about y’all but we like always change our pets’ names when we adopt them and sometimes I’m glad we do because we have an anxious big#mutt doggie and we named him Chimmy which worked out well because he’s kinda silly and goofy and yknow neurodivergent but his og name?
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nanaslutt · 7 months
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gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk
When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader
this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..
contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.
Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.
Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.
Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.
Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.
Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”
His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.
You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.
This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.
Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.
He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.
He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.
Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.
Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?
See? This was a hundred times better than the club.
But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.
When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.
Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.
“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.
“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…
“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.
“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.
“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.
He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.
“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.
“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”
Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.
You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.
Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.
He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.
The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.
Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.
After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.
He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.
You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.
Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.
Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.
One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.
Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.
Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.
He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.
But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.
He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.
Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.
His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.
Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.
“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.
Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.
“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.
Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?
Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.
“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.
“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.
“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.
“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.
“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.
He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.
You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.
It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.
Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.
Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.
He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.
He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.
He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.
“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.
Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.
“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.
The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.
You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.
“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.
“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.
“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully. 
“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.
“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.
“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.
“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.
“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”
You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.
Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.
“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.
“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.
“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.
You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.
"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.
Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."
"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.
"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.
"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.
"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.
He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.
Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.
"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.
He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.
The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.
When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.
Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.
You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.
He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.
Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.
He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.
"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.
The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.
You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.
Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.
Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.
"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.
"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.
Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.
"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.
"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.
You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.
Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.
"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.
Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.
Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.
"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.
His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.
"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.
Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.
Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.
Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.
"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.
"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.
You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.
"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.
"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.
"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.
Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.
“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.
“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.
Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.
Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.
He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.
The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.
His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.
Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.
Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.
“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.
“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.
“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.
“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.
Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.
“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.
“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.
“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.
You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.
His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.
Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.
After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.
He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.
As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.
You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.
“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.
You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.
You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.
Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.
“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.
“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.
Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.
You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.
Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.
He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.
“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.
“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.
You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.
“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”
“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.
“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.
“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.
Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.
“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.
“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.
“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.
“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.
You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.
“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.
Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.
“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.
Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.
Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.
“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.
You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.
The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.
“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.
Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.
Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.
His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.
“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.
“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.
“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.
“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.
He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.
You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.
“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.
Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.
8K notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 2 months
Note
HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK
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♛ ONE ° •
ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH
ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)
idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!
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the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.
currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.
“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”
you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.
matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.
“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”
he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.
“i love it.”
the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”
see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.
“nope.”
he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.
the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.
i want to see you after the show.
now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.
you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.
a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”
he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.
“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.
you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”
she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”
you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.
a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.
you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.
pinch me this can’t be real.
“hi,” he says lowly.
“hi,” you repeat back.
he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”
you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.
your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.
you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.
he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.
thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.
you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”
“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”
you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.
you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”
he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.
leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”
your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.
his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.
you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”
he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.
your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”
your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.
he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.
leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.
instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.
it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.
he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.
you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”
you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.
whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.
“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”
you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.
“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.
matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.
it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”
he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.
then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.
shit.
you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”
matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.
“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”
the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”
“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”
“are you okay?” she questions.
with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.
“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.
he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.
“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.
“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”
she sighs through the phone. “okay.”
you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.
he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”
spank.
“leaving your friend out there all alone.”
spank.
“so that you can fuck me.”
spank.
“like a slut.”
spank.
you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.
he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”
he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”
you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.
whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.
“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”
baby. you moan at the nickname.
you’re way past the point of ‘omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’
you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.
all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.
your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.
“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.
he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.
“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.
your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.
he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”
blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.
“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”
“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.
“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.
tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.
matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.
you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.
he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.
he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.
after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.
matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.
you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.
once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”
“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.
she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”
“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”
she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.
to my favorite fan,
xxx-xxx-xxxx
text me when you get the chance, gorgeous
- matt :)
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @sturniologirly @hbvfb
2K notes · View notes
helluvapoison · 4 months
Text
jealousy, jealousy
˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚
warnings: violence, off page murdah, suggestive themes, possessive behavior
18+ only
watch out for red flags in real life and read at your own discretion ♡
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The least jealous of the three, but that doesn’t say much, does it?
• Running an enterprise goes hand in hand with being an Overlord. Vox prides himself on being everywhere at once but he knows his limits. If wants to keep this cushy life he built, and you safe, he can’t spread himself too thin. That means occasionally cutting back on distractions
• So go out, have your fun— playtoys even! He’s not worried. Vox has literal eyes on you 24/7, access to your phone and all its contents, your lifeline is constantly synced to his peripherals. Really! He’s not worried!
• The problem arises when Vox feels threatened or undermined. If he’s in the same room, no one should even be looking at you! And if some sorry soul dared to touch you!? That’d be the last time they have hands
• “I’ve been looking for you!” He says from behind as his claws creep around your shoulders. He’ll ignore the Sinner, bringing your attention to him as security drags them away. You don’t need to know how jealous he can get
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Sharing, shockingly, is not in her vocabulary! Not outfits, not credit, not the spotlight and fucking especially not you
• You’re her favorite project, she so lovingly calls you, which is a giant compliment. She dresses you every day so if— for some hellish reason— you left her side, she knows she has a visual claim on you. Vel quickly snaps and posts a pic of the two of you together before you go, just to remind her audience the fact you’re spoken for! Don’t you feel safe? And stylish?
• Unlike her partners, Velvette can multitask so having you around the studio can be an everyday treat! Unfortunately she has to split her focus, occasionally crashing the conversation to a stop so she can snap at someone
• Her eyes are sharp, they pick up on every little detail and seldom miss a thing. No one in her workshop would even think about approaching you, unless Vel asked, so it was all too easy to spot that new-nobody-model break his neck to check you out
• You’ve seen Velvette reduce even the oldest, most thick skinned to a puddle of piss in the street with her words. She doesn’t give anyone the chance to touch what’s hers. She’s shameless and loud, stopping the inappropriate behavior from across the room if she has to, “Oy! You! You’re fuckin’ fired, get the fuck out of here ‘fore I set you on fire!”
• As they run for the elevator, she debates if the clothes they’re wearing are worth keeping or not. With a glowing finger she swipes them off the model anyways, stripping them of her brand… and their dignity
• Velvette marks the occasion with a kiss to your cheek, stained with black lipstick, and another posted picture with a clever caption
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Val invented jealousy
• He handles it as well as everyone expects
• It’s not limited to you, either! Business partners, employees, friends (if he has any left), play things, he’ll be up and arms about anything that belongs to him. There’s only one way to cut the cord tethered to him, and he’s always the one to decide how and when
• Val may have a lot of toys but you’re not one of them. You’re special— precious, actually!
• He has tabs on you at all times. Tracker in your phone, jewelry with his name on it, a bodyguard if he’s feeling particularly paranoid that day!
• Val also loves showing you off. Love bites are his favorite mark of ownership, he’ll show off wherever is most recent so be prepared to swat his hands away. Everyone can look, but only he can touch. He has four hands, one of them is on you at all times in public
• No one should manage to get in spitting distance of you— but if somehow they did and had the gall to talk to you… he’ll break their nose on the spot. He’d make quicker work with a gun, but then he’d get blood on you and he doesn’t want that
• “You’re so fuckin’ hot tonight, baby, look how clumsy you’ve made this idiot!” Val cackles, poorly masking his rage, “Seriously, I think you’re trying to get me riled up.” You open your mouth to deny it but he laughs again, carefully pulling you closer with both pairs of arms, “I’m only teasing!”
• Looming over you, Val shoots said idiot a murderous glare that gives them a five second head start. He’s yet to lose this game of chase. He always returns, clean as a crappy soap ad, to shower you in gifts in lieu of an apology for disappearing
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clairenatural · 6 months
Text
Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.
It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.
It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.
He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.
Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.
So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.
It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 
Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 
The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”
It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.
Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.
"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.
Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.
"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.
"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.
He turns the keys. He drives them home.
Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).
Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.
It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"
Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."
"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."
"You didn't correct her?"
"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.
"Uh huh."
"It felt trivial."
"To tell her we're not married?"
"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.
Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."
"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.
Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.
"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"
Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"
Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."
Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."
Across the table, Cas grins at him.
"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.
"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."
"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."
They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.
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tender-rosiey · 9 months
Text
girl dad — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: kinda inspired by the most adorable girl ever named saylor <3
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sometimes, you feel like your husband was born to be a girl dad.
he always indulges her, and he even says that she is the second person he can’t say no to, the first one being you. it also helps that your husband is a man so confident in his masculinity that he doesn’t mind using a princess voice to play with his girl.
he doesn’t mind her trying a makeup kit on his face or getting him a skirt so he can be the ultimate princess to attend the tea parties.
of course, your daughter loves him to death.
you remember that one time satoru came home later than he had told her, and she sat down at the front door until he came. she also was so close to tearing up, so you pulled her into your embrace, and the both of you patiently waited for him.
when he came in, the big baby was about to tear up himself and pulled the both of you into one bone-crushing hug. it was a sweet moment that never leaves your mind.
now, though, her loving him so much doesn’t stop her from being a sometimes—unintentionally—savage 5 year old.
you remember that one time when you all went to play some soccer together.
your girl was so excited; she practically jumped out of her seat the moment you arrived. you were still setting the seating area up when your husband struck up a conversation with your dear daughter.
he was helping her put on her knee pads as he smiled, “you nervous, pretty?”
she quirked an eyebrow and quickly shook her head, “nope!”
“really?” he hummed then pouted, then started securing her shoelaces, “well, I am nervous.”
“why?”
he looked her in the eyes with a chuckle, “I don’t want to play bad in front of you and mommy.”
you roll your eyes and ruffle his hair, making him grin up at you, and the both of you await your daughter’s response.
she looked at him then nonchalantly said, “well, guess what? I saw you play yesterday and you played bad,” then she looked at you with a grimace, “really bad.”
satoru gasped, and looked at her incredulously, “what?! I did not!”
another thing is that she picks up anything and everything, and very quickly too. you have yet to decide whether it’s a good or bad thing. you do know that it provides a lot of comedy in this household though.
for example, one time they were playing nail salon together, and your daughter was the customer this time.
you were also another customer, but your very dedicated husband already finished your nails and gave you one hell of a message so you were resting on the side.
of course, he gets his payment later.
anyway, your husband, the worldwide famous nail tech, started working on her tiny hands. he is very concentrated even when he talks with her, “so you have a husband?”
your daughter nods, and he continues his inquiry, “is he nice?”
she pauses for a moment, before gasping with a deep frown, “he’s mean!”
he blinks before grinning, “ooo, spill the tea,” he picks another color and continues painting her nails. you glance at her nails, and—surprisingly—he is doing a wonderful job. you do remember that he told you he can be good at anything he tries.
guess it wasn’t just some talk to woo you.
she stares at the void, “I will spill tea on him.”
“woah,” satoru’s head snaps towards you and he looks concerned and kind of proud? he is probably happy she can stand up for herself. he hums, “what did he do?”
she shakes her with disappointment then sighs, “doesn’t help with the house.”
“jeez, what a bad husband.”
“mhm! bad!”
as much as she is a daddy’s girl, however, she is also a mommy’s girl.
you had went out with your friends for a couple of hours, leaving satoru and d/n to fend for themselves. you came back to the house looking as clean as ever.
you breathed a sigh of relief as you looked at your husband and daughter standing side to side.
satoru pressed a soft kiss to your cheek then lightly nudged your daughter, whispering in her ear, “tell mommy that I’ve been good.”
she nods lightly then looks at you, “I’ve been good, mommy!” she beams.
he pouts, “nooo! tell mommy that daddy has been good.”
with a giggle, she hugs your leg and presses a kiss to your thigh—the only place she can reach—, “I’ve been so good!”
he plops on the ground with a whine, “d/n!”
she frowns then looks him up and down. she pulls gently on your shirt and then looks up at you, “daddy’s been bad.”
“d/n!”
what you don’t know is that they’re going to do their best to not show you d/n’s room that is full of sparkles, glitter, and way too many plushies and outfits thrown around. the devils do team up on you every now and then.
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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lovelettersfromluna · 3 months
Text
Compass
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Summary: I’ve got something to confess, I keep you in my pocket to use. You’re my only compass, I might get lost with you.
an: let’s ignore the fact that I’ve been gone for a long time, yeah? Hehe. this most definitely is not the fic that I’ve been working on literally the entire time I’ve been gone (that’s coming don’t worry), but I got this idea at 2 in the morning and I had to jump on it IMMEDIATELY. Hope you all like it mwah mwah love you.
Warnings: SMUT!! Minors please for the love of everything that is good, do not interact, modern day vampire!Ellie, semi graphic descriptions of blood and wounds, shy!reader, Ellie bites you a lot, Ellie feeds on you and honestly it’s borderline soft core porn, fingering Ellie!receiving, grinding, mentions of bruises, Ellie is extremely fucking strong, Ellie watches you in your sleep/can get into your apartment without a key, let me know if I’ve missed anything!!
You aren’t really sure how you and Ellie became friends.
Well, you are, maybe a better question would be why you two became friends. You were both so different, you were convinced the first time you met that she hated you. The night filled with quick glances as she damn near avoided speaking to you like you were the fucking plague. It took you a bit to not take it too personally, reminding yourself that you weren’t for everyone, and that was okay! So what if the mutual friend didn’t like you…it wasn’t the end of the world.
So, it came to a surprise to you when a few nights after meeting Ellie passed, you had not one, not two, but three of your friends texting you and asking you if it was okay if they gave her your number…
Because she’d asked for it.
And suddenly you’re texting each other every day, and well into the wee hours of the night. You know, like one of those friendships. The ones that makes you smile every time you see their name pop up on your phone, or the ones where you send each other stupid videos on TikTok all day just to talk about them on a different messaging platform, because of course you’re interacting with each other every where that you have a presence.
Ellie becomes your best friend before you even realize it, and it makes you realize that maybe she didn’t dislike you as much as you thought before.
It always did confuse you a bit in the beginning how you two got along so well. You were both so different from one another. Ellie was a party animal, you were a home body. Ellie was up late at night, you were up early in the morning. If Ellie was the moon, then you were the sun. Polar opposites coming together to find a home in one another, the most unusual pairing stuck by the hip from that point on.
You of course, kept all each other’s secrets. You’d learned very early on that no one really knew much about Ellie, which you simply chalked up to her being a private person. However, she seemed eager to tell you any and everything about her. Like her dad, she’d talk about him all the time, you figured on early on that she really loved him. Or whenever she had a a new fling going, you’d be the first to know of course. She’d even told you about the time she threw away her dad’s playboy magazine after stealing it from him, which she swore she’d never told a soul.
She wanted to know all about you too! Your favorite color, favorite animal, childhood crush, family relationships. Truthfully? If you weren’t so oblivious, you would’ve seen a long time ago that Ellie was the slightest bit obsessed with you.
But you loved her, and you trusted her with your life, so you told her everything! Because you didn’t keep things from each other.
So, on a night out with everyone else, Ellie disappears, and of course you try to look for her, asking around only to be told that everyone saw her leave. Going outside to make sure she’s okay is the only logical thing to do, right? You have to make sure she’s okay.
What you don’t expect though, is when you look down a dark alleyway a few buildings down from the club you’re at, and spot the tall figure of your friend tucked into the brick wall of the dark corner, shielding way whatever it is that’s behind her. You call out for her, and when she turns around you gasp.
Because her eyes were red, and not red like you haven’t gotten any sleep, or you’ve been crying, the green of her eyes are now red, bloodshot red, and she’s holding a lifeless body in her tattooed arms…and there’s blood covering her pink lips, dripping down her chin.
Yeah, Ellie was a vampire.
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You let out a gentle yawn as your hand went down to grab the remote control to your tv, your other hand coming up to rub your eyes a bit, a sorry attempt at trying to wake yourself up enough to get from the couch to go to your bed.
You pouted softly, lazily bringing your phone up to check the time before you sighed, finally finding the strength in you to push yourself up off the couch to leave your living room.
Work had been absolutely plowing you into the ground, your publicist constantly hounding you to keep working on the most recent installment of your book series. It was just so fucking hard, everytime you sat down in front of your computer, it was like writing your own book was the last thing you wanted to do.
It was draining you, and it felt like every time you finished a set of chapters, your brain was complete mush.
The upside though, was that it tired you out enough to completely knock out once you were in bed.
A gentle sigh left your lips once your head hit your soft pillow, plush blankets wrapping around your body, sliding down your bare legs and making you feel absolutely blissful. You couldn’t even stop yourself from the soft smile on your lips as your eyes grey heavy, the low lighting in your room making you feel all the more cozy, all the more warm.
You were out in seconds, soft snores leaving your sleeping body as you entered a world of dreams, escaping reality for a few measly hours before you were bombarded with the real world around you in the morning.
Ellie was on the other side of town, or at least, leaving the other side of town. It was late, and while she did love to be a creature of the night, there was something that sounded much more inviting than a glass of whiskey and a cigarette.
You, of course.
You were Ellie’s kryptonite, the single thing in this entire fucked up world that convinced her there was something worth living for, in her case, existing for. You were so fucking good, so sweet, so forgiving of literally everything. There were too many times that Ellie recalled where she wasn’t even sure you were real, perhaps another mythical creature much like herself, sent to this world to lure others into a trap that was just as filthy and terrible as the rest of the world.
But you weren’t…there were never any cons or secrets that you held, and if you did hold any secrets, you were more than willing to let Ellie in on them. No…no you were different.
God were you different.
Ellie recalls the night she first laid eyes on you like it was yesterday, her cold, dead heart jolting back to life for only a second when she saw you, at least that’s what it felt like. Your smile radiant in the dim, multicolored lights of the club, cheeks shining, eyes twinkling, like an angel sent from above. Ellie almost felt like a being as evil, and sour as she wasn’t worthy of being in the same room as you.
And god…your fucking smell.
Ellie could go on about it for hours. Sure, you were remarkable without it, but it was just the icing on the cake, the twisting of the knife in her chest.
She has mastered the art of walking into a room filled with warm bodies pumped full of blood and while ago, her throat burning with the urge to sink her teeth into her next poor victim. It was easy, annoying, but easy, and she couldn’t really remember the last time she struggled being around anyone, especially friends, or even friends of a friend.
But the second she saw you, your sweet, dulcet smell wafting against her nose, she was transported back in time. Back to a time where she was but a young vampire, clueless of the world around her, of her new life, adapting to something she didn’t even know existed before all of this, without a single guide or a fucking pamphlet for gods sakes.
It made her eyes widen, and she stopped breathing instantly to try and dull the scent of you sneaking into her nostrils and down into her eager throat. She noticed the way you pouted and sighed whenever she’d ignore you, or give her nothing but a brief response whenever you tried to get to know her. She could tell this wasn’t your thing, the night life, partying, you were here because someone asked it of you, and you being the good friend you are would never let anyone you cared about down.
Despite Ellie being a total dick to you because she simply couldn’t control herself around you, you sucked it up, carried on and stayed until everyone else decided to leave.
Watching you leave that night, made Ellie realize you weren’t something she could pass up.
Asking for your number was probably the best thing Ellie had ever done in her immortal life. Speaking to you was far better than thinking about you constantly, and after she’d convinced herself she wouldn’t do anything stupid with you, she was finally ready to introduce herself to you, the right way.
It’s how she constantly found herself like this, searching for your warm embrace around her cold, dead body every time she found the opportunity. She’d come to you when she was done working, she’d come to you when the girls at the bar were boring her, she’d even come to you when she simply knew you were home and she had nothing to do.
Ellie hummed softly as she looked up at your apartment building, the warm summer breeze wafting against her skin as she stared up at your window, the white curtains blowing out with the wind. She sighs to herself.
“Told you to stop leaving your window open…” she mumbles softly to herself.
The human eye wouldn’t ever be able to catch the way Ellie climbs up the side of your building, her arms and legs scaling it like a pro, making it look as simple as walking, or even breathing. It’s too fast, and in the blink of an eye, she’s at your balcony, long fingers pulling back your curtains to get a look at your sleeping figure.
She watches as your chest rises and falls, your blanket covering your sleeping frame, bare legs kicked out from under them, shining under the moonlight. She isn’t sure how long she stays there at your window staring at you, watching in awe as you do something as simple as sleep.
It isn’t until you shift slightly in your sleep, a dreamy sigh leaving your lips, that Ellie finally pushes her long legs over your window to step into your room, sneaker clad feet pressing onto the wooden floor of your bedroom.
She looks around for a moment, taking a deep inhale as she lets your scent wash over her for a moment, eyes fluttering shut as she simply lets you consume her, fill her up and make her feel whole again.
Make her feel alive again.
You never really understood it, why Ellie lingered when she hugged you, face pressed at the nape of your neck, swaying you slowly as she clung to you longer than normal. Well…you did know, at least you’d find out later on when Ellie finally explained everything to you…what she was, how it happened.
Although, it was only half what you thought. Sure, the smell of your blood made Ellie’s mouth water, her nostrils flare and her throat burn, but it was so much more than that. You made her feel whole, and even if it were a few seconds, she was going to make the most of it every time she got the chance.
And that’s what she felt when she was in your little room. The cool breeze filling up the space, the dim lights casting a warm glow over you because you couldn’t sleep in the dark. You used the excuse of creating an ambiance for yourself when you slept, but Ellie knew you far better than that. It was like you’d perfected the feeling of comfort, bottled it up and sprayed it around your room every other day.
The wind blowing your curtains a bit harder caught Ellie’s attention, and she sighed softly as she walked over to it and shut it. She had told you time and time again to quit it, warning you about the weirdos that would love to take advantage of a pretty girl with her window open while in the most vulnerable state.
Even though the only weirdo that ever snuck into your room through said window, was Ellie. If anything, your little habit only fueled Ellie’s addiction for you further.
The sound of your window closing makes you groan softly in your sleep, and at that sound, Ellie knows she’s done it.
While she wanted nothing more than for you to be awake when she came over, she hated waking you. You looked so fucking serene when you slept, and Ellie felt like the devil himself whenever she accidentally ripped you away from that, even if the only thing she wanted was for you to be awake and talking to her.
Your body twists and turns a bit, slowly finding its way out of the drowsy state of sleep you were in. You let out a gentle yawn before one of your hands come up to rub your eyes, moments before you turn to your side to face her, hand resting between your cheek and your pillow as your eyes open and focus on the tall frame standing in front of your bed.
Ellie is convinced nothing scares you, because for as long as she’d been doing this, sneaking into your bedroom and watching you sleep, on the rare occasion that you wake up and catch her, you never seem scared. You don’t gasp or scream, you don’t even flinch when you see the dark, looming presence stood there in front of you. Ellie was sure the first time you caught her there, that you’d scream in horror before calling the police on her.
But you never did. You always stared at her with a sleepy smile, eyes puffy with sleep, lips a bit swollen, looking at her as if she were your favorite person in the entire world.
And like all those nights before, you do the same. A gentle yawn falls from your lips as you rub your eyes once more before tugging your blanket further up your shoulder.
“Ellie…” you sigh out softly, and you sound so fucking dreamy, so beautiful does her name sound falling from her lips. It makes Ellie weak in the knees.
She walks over to you slowly, smiling softly down at you as she grows closer and closer to your bed until she’s standing over you, one of her hands coming down and running around your blanket clad shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Wanted to come visit…sorry I woke you” she hums soft, her hand traveling up until it reaches your face, one of her fingers caressing your cheek ever so slightly. Your eyes flutter shut at this, and she can see that the gesture alone is nearly enough to lull you back to sleep.
“S’okay…I wake up in the middle of the night all the time…you know that” you assure her, words falling with yet another yawn before you open your sleepy eyes up again to stare up at her.
Before she can even speak though, your content expression is replaced with one of worry as you finally get the chance to focus on her face, your eyebrows furrowing as you prop yourself up on your elbow, your other hand reaching up to touch her cheek as you become more and more alert with each passing moment.
“Are you okay Ellie? You look…why are your eyes so…” you mumble, now on your knees to reach her better, your face in front of hers as your eyes search hers.
She looked pale, paler than usual. Her lips were chapped, eyes dull and sunken in, she looked like she hadn’t slept in centuries, like all the life had been sucked out of her. And while that technically was the case, Ellie often looked vibrant for her dead state, eyes sharp and alert, green eyes almost fluorescent with color when you looked into them.
Immediately, you know what was wrong.
“When’s the last time you…had something to eat?” You ask sternly, eyebrows furrowed and a firm frown on your pouty lips.
That was another thing…Ellie hadn’t properly fed in about two weeks, going on three now.
She let out a gentle sigh, her hands resting on your hips as your own rested on her cheeks, cupping her face and forcing her to look into your eyes even though she avoided eye contact.
She hated when you saw her this way, so weak, so small. She liked it when she was the best version of herself, the version that was well fed, agile and strong. Not like this, not like when she was turning into a shell of the woman she once was.
“I…it’s just been a few nights, angel…it’s no big deal” she tries, giving your hips a firm squeeze as she attempts to convince you that she was fine. However her appearance and her voice is a dead giveaway that she’s lying, the sound hoarse and scratchy, sounding as if she’d been clawing at her throat for days to ease the pain she felt.
“You can’t lie to me, Ellie. You look horrible” you scold the girl.
She lets out a sigh, and she almost feels ashamed of herself. Sure, there were times where a meal was a bit harder to come by, people becoming a bit more aware of the danger that lingered when she was near, but god, Ellie couldn’t remember a time where it was this bad. It was like every single time she got someone in her arms, trapped in her little scheme, something cock blocked her entirely from finishing the deed.
And the more times that happened, the weaker she got.
“I’ve just been really unlucky…okay? Most of us do this in packs or with a fucking partner at least…it gets tricky when you’re on your own” she finally admitted, a gentle sigh falling from her lips as she leaned down to rest her head against your shoulder, pressing her weight against you in the process, as it was slowly becoming unbearable to hold it up herself at this point.
“M’just going through a thing right now, baby…don’t worry about it” she mumbled against you, lips ghosting over your soft skin as she again tried to assure you she’d been fine.
Ellie had always made it a point to never get as low as this, and if she did, she made it a point to never let you see her. What would her sweet best friend think of her if the monster she truly was had the chance to shine through? How would you ever allow her in your presence again once you finally realized how disgusting she truly was?
What Ellie didn’t know, is that you didn’t think any of those things. You could never find her to be a monster or disgusting, you adored her far too much to ever see her that way. No, what you did think when you saw her that way, were any of the things you could do to help her. That was the only thing you wanted, to help her.
You don’t even think twice before you say it, giving yourself a moment to mull over the idea and weigh out the pros and cons before it’s escaping the confides of your mind and making its debut out into your bedroom.
“Feed on me” you blurt out, so quickly you aren’t even sure Ellie fully catches it properly.
But she does, Ellie hears every word, every syllable, she can even hear the way your heart beat quickens after you’ve said it.
She’s slowly lifting her head from your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed and lips frowning as she stares down at you, your eyes wide and hopeful, hopeful that she’ll take the offer, that she’ll allow you to give yourself to her for the sake of her wellbeing.
“No.” She deadpans without a second thought. She doesn’t even give herself a second to indulge in the idea of it, knowing how badly it could end, how terrible it could be with one wrong move, or one gulp too much. Ellie knows that this is nothing to toy with, especially with you.
You’re quickly shaking your head once she rejects your offer, your hands falling from her face to rest down on her shoulders, leaning in a bit to press your body closer to hers.
“Ellie…look at yourself. How were you even able to climb up here?” You plead with the girl, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze before you inhale deeply.
“I’m giving you permission…I want you to do this” your words almost come out like a beg, wanting nothing more than to simply help the girl, to help a friend in need that clearly needed it.
And you knew deep down, that no matter what, Ellie would never hurt you.
Ellie knew it too. She knew that she wouldn’t go too far to take your life away from you. She had been around long enough to have the self control to stop whenever she knew you’d had too much.
However, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be hard.
She inhaled deeply, giving your hips a gentle squeeze before she finally brought her own eyes up to look into yours. Her pink tongue darted out to run along her lips, wetting the chapped skin before she let out a gentle sigh.
“You’ll tell me when it becomes too much…right?” She asks, desperate for confirmation from you that you won’t let her go too far, even if she wanted to.
You give her a bright smile, a gentle giggle leaving your lips as you nod. “I will…now go on…sooner you do this, the sooner I can sleep” you tease her playfully, which makes her groan softly with a pout.
She sighed softly, reaching forward and pushing your hair to the side to expose the soft, supple skin of your neck. Her eyes zeroed in on it, and she could practically see your pulse from beneath your skin, making her shudder at the thought of it. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your throat, which earns a gentle sigh from you.
“This’ll hurt…” she mumbles against you, peppering your skin with gentle kisses. You simply tilt your head further to the side, resting your temple against her shoulder as your arms hang loosely around her neck, your body pressed against hers.
“Mm…I’ll be okay” you mumble out sleepily, your fingers coming up to toy with the hair at the nape of her neck.
Ellie can feel the way your pulse slows under her lips, and she has to stop herself from groaning due to how fucking strong your smell was right now with your body pressed against hers. She knew that the longer the stood her, mouthing away at your neck instead of actually feeding, she’d just keep you from getting back to the rest that she had interrupted in the first place.
It was now or never.
She sighed softly, swallowing thickly before she opened her mouth a bit wider, fangs protruding out from her gums and taking their rightful place. She let them graze your skin, the sharp teeth sure to leave scratches from something as small as a graze, before she finally latched her lips to your throat, and sunk her teeth into your flesh.
Now…Ellie had her fair share of tasty meals within her immortal life time. There were maybe a handful of people that left a faint memory in her head, better than most of the others she’d fed on in her past, so she was no stranger to a warm body with a nice taste.
But you? God….there was nothing in this world that could’ve prepared Ellie for how fucking…divine you taste. It was like liquid gold on her tongue, the smell that had plagued her mind from the moment she met you a mere tease to the real deal. It made Ellie moan against you, her eyes fluttering shut as her tattooed hands clawed at your waist, gripping the skin so tightly she was sure to leave bruises, pressing you flush against her body.
She could practically feel the essence of your life filling her up and bringing all of her strength back, replacing the once empty, dull feeling in her body with one that could only be described as rejuvenation. The taste you gave her flowing into her mouth and making her feel like she’d died and gone to heaven.
The noises you made only aided Ellie in her blissful state, tiny moans and huffs leaving your lips as you continued massaging her scalp with gentle fingers, allowing her to take whatever she needed from you.
Ellie knew she could’ve drained you, taken every last drop of your life and left you dry. She could do it ten times over if it were an option, however it wasn’t, and she knew at the back of her head she could only take what she needed, and nothing more. So she knew once your grip around her neck loosened a bit, that she needed to stop.
She unlatched from your neck breathlessly, your crimson blood painting her plush lips, red eyes blown out wide as she eyed the damage she’d done to your poor neck, the punctures filling Ellie’s chest with a sense of pride as some of your blood and her saliva dripped down the base of your throat. She leaned in, licking you clean before pressing a gentle kiss to the wound, groaning softly as when she heard you hum softly.
“All…finished?” You mumbled out with a dreamy smile on your lips, eyes half lidded as you stared up at the girl who had just nearly sucked you dry.
Ellie stared down at you with a look of disbelief, the back of her hand coming up and wiping her lips. “You said you’d tell me to stop…” she groaned softly as she gently set you down to lay back on your bed.
You let out a soft yawn, nodding as you tugged your blanket up with a weak hand to drape over your body. “I was…you stopped sooner than anticipated” you giggled out sleepily before you eyed the girl from your bed, already feeling the drowsy affects of sleep taking over.
“You look better already, El…” your compliment made her dead heart swell. She could feel it too, your life coursing through her veins and bringing back all of the good aspects of being immortal, the strength, the radiance, all of it brought back because of you.
She chuckled softly at your words, walking over to your closet and grabbing your first aid kit, fishing a little band aid out before walking back towards you. She sat at the edge of the bed, her pointer and middle finger pushing your jaw up slightly to get a look at the wound she’d given you.
“Here…so you don’t get blood on your pillow” she explains as she pressed the bandaid to your neck. You simply hum in response, and Ellie knows you’re probably already asleep. Between being tired before all of this, and losing blood, she expected for you to be out like a light long before she bid you a goodnight.
She stays a bit longer after you’ve fallen asleep, her long limbs crawling over your body to lay in bed with you, marveling at the way the color returned to your body, the way your chest rose and fell slowly, the way your lips would part with a gentle sigh ever so often. She’d let her hands caress your skin, watching as goosebumps appeared to trail after them. She simply appreciated how human you were, how warm and responsive you were even during sleep.
She leaves once the sun begins to peak above the horizon, knowing you’d want your privacy when you woke up in a few hours. She makes sure to close your window after she’s left too, scaling down the building much quicker than she did when she first arrived.
And while she walks home, the sun slowly casting a warm glow onto the city she lived in, she knew that she’d made a mistake by feeding on you.
Because now? She was completely and utterly ruined for anyone else that she’d feed on after you.
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Bloodlust
The word had entirely different meaning for those like Ellie, creatures of the night that fed on the essence of life, the scarlet, metallic liquid that flowed and pumped throughout the bodies of the living.
She had heard of it happening to other vampires, in an instance of finding the human being that acted as a drug to them, making it hard to function without their taste on their tongues. It was an occasion that only ever happened when there was a mutual agreement between a vampire and a human, a hunter/prey proposition that acted in a more…ethical way.
It consumed the one feeding, making it hard to function without the person near, almost creating an inseparable bond between the two, paired with a constant line of food with it as well. It took over nearly everything, mind, body, soul, all of it belonging to the person they fed on, the human often times having more control over the vampire.
Ellie never really believed in it, instead viewing blood as something that was of and in itself, the same all the time. Sure, there were some people that tasted better than others, but blood was blood, no matter who the person was, they were more or less all the same at the end of the day. A meal was a meal, and that was that.
So if that was true, why were you the only thing on Ellie’s mind every waking second after the night she fed on you?
You were always on Ellie’s mind before it all, lingering at the back, making her smile when she thought of something silly you’d said to her earlier in the week, face beaming whenever you’d send a text her way, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that you were on her mind.
She thought of it constantly, the way you were so…so fucking eager for her, a sense of intimacy lingering in the air of an act so selfless. Your pouty lips parted as you moaned and sighed her name, her lips attached to your neck as you gave her everything. Feeding was always something that felt the slightest bit romantic, the closeness of it all.
But you…doing it with you was different than anything she’d ever experienced.
She knew it meant nothing to you, she knew that it was simply you being a good friend, which meant it was borderline wrong for her to take it any way other than what it was, but she couldn’t help herself. She could still taste you on her tongue when she got home, plopping down into her bed and staring up at the ceiling in her dark room as she felt her core tighten and flutter as she referenced back to the memory.
Ellie couldn’t help herself when she unbuttoned her jeans, slipped her hands down to cup her pussy, and caught her aching clit against her calloused fingers to give it some much needed attention.
And she moaned your name as if it were the only word in her vocabulary, blubbering and crying out for you as she angrily fucked her aching pussy, eyebrows furrowed to the point where she almost looked upset.
“F-fuck….that’s my fucking girl…that’s it…gonna cum all over your pretty fuckin’ face” she groaned out, picturing you settled between her legs, eagerly lapping at her weeping core, grinding down onto your face and giving you everything she had, much like you did when you allowed her to feed on you.
She’d cum with your name falling from her lips, back arching as her hips rolled against her palm, sopping wet cunt painting her slick all over her hand, making it hard to even keep it where she needed it with how wet she was, how fucking riled up you had her.
And she’d do it again, lying in her bed and thinking of the memory over and over again, hanging on to the sound of your voice sighing out her name, moaning for her as she licked her lips, searching for the taste of your blood still soaked on them. All while you were sound asleep in your apartment where she left you.
If Ellie thought she was drawn to you before, she was sorely mistaken. Because now? All she could do was crave you. It interrupted her day to day, made her brain foggy when she wasn’t with you or talking to you.
And soon? It became a habit.
Ellie was at your door every other night, long fingers searching for your hips to pull you closer as she pressed her face into your neck, tongue slipping out of her mouth to run along the now permanent marks on your neck, whispering in your ear about how badly she needed you.
It had become a bit of a routine, Ellie would come over, you’d let her feed on you until she saw fit, she’d go home and fuck herself, and then she would live in her own personal hell for the next few days that she wasn’t able to see you.
It’s how she found herself dragging her body down the hallway to your apartment, a heavy hand coming up to the door and giving it a firm knock.
When you answer, Ellie thinks you look like a dream. Your body is leaned up against the door, head resting against it as you give her a dreamy smile, oversized t-shirt hanging off of one of your shoulders, sleep shorts barely visible beneath the end of the shirt, hugging your ass so perfectly, your white socks bunched up at your ankles.
She has to bite back the moan that threatens to escape when she lays eyes on you.
“Mm…hi Ellie” your voice sounds like the sweetest melody, and she’s smiling sheepishly as she walks towards you, bending her knees a bit as she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her tall frame, nearly light you up off the ground completely.
“There she is…” she sighed against you, and it sounds like Ellie can finally breath, like the weight holding her back from breathing in the air she so desperately needed has finally been granted to her, it makes you giggle softly.
You wrap your arms around her neck, humming softly as your fingers come up to tangle in her hair, simultaneously pulling her into your apartment. She kicks the door closed behind her, arms still wrapping you up and keeping you close.
She keeps you close, her head coming up to take a look at the set up you have going in that she’s walked in to. She can tell you’ve been working on your book, your laptop set on your couch paired with your favorite blanket, and a mug set on your coffee table that was still steaming.
“Working on the book?” She asked softly, you nod as you turn around in your arms, and excited smile on your face as you walk over to your spot, clicking the keypad a few times before you shut it.
“Yup. I’m getting pretty far….was wrapping it up right before you came over” you practically beamed.
Ellie always found it so endearing how dedicated you were to your work, and rightfully so, Ellie reminded you time and time again that she’d lived through many eras of famous writers, but you always topped them ten times over and then some. She’d never let you forget the talent you had was rare.
You plopped down on your couch after sliding your laptop into its little compartment under your coffee table, your legs coming up to cross over each other as you pat the spot next to you eagerly, to which she easily obliged of course.
Her old denim jacket rustled a bit as she sat down, resting her back against your couch as she slouched down a bit, legs spread as she stares up at you through the dim, cozy lighting of your living room.
You giggle softly, resting your cheek against your palm as you look down at her. “What are you staring at? You’re looking at me like I’m something to eat…” your words trail off, eyes narrowing at the girl playfully before you sit up, crossing your arms.
“Did you come all the way here to get a free meal out of me, Williams?” Your tone is accusing, but playful, and it makes Ellie chuckle as she bring her tattooed hands up to rub up and down her face before she groans.
“When you say it like that it sounds bad….I see it as seeing my favorite person with something extra added into it…” she defends herself before chuckling, looking back at you as she tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking gently on the plump skin, letting her mind linger to imagine it was your lips she was sucking on instead as her eyes slowly zeroed in on them, similar to if she were under a spell.
“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to…” she mumbled out softly, voice gentle and truthful.
It was true, Ellie would cut all of this out the second you made even the slightest signal that you were tired of it, or if your body simply couldn’t handle it anymore. She knew that she’d never use you as her personal blood bag. The minute you wanted out, you got it, no questions asked.
You give her a gentle smile though, shaking your head as you shifted your body a bit so that it was now laying down on the end of the couch opposite of Ellie, your head resting against one of the plush pillows you had next to you while you were writing. You spread your legs a bit, making space for Ellie to crawl into before you stretched your arms out for her, a silent call for the girl to come closer.
“I’ll always give it to you, El…you know that. Come…” you call her again with a slight flick of your wrist.
Your words make Ellie’s head swirl, all of it sounding, and feeling, much too similar to something else, something more than just a friend helping another friend out. It sounds like you’re giving something else to her, something she’d dreamt of taking from you from the moment she laid eyes on you.
But she can’t indulge in that, not now, not when you’re being so kind.
She chokes back a groan, the girl slowly crawling over your body, similar to a predator creeping over its prey. Her body consuming yours as she pressed either one of her palms into the plush couch near your head, staring into your eyes as she settled between your warm thighs, the plush skin pressing against a sliver of her hips that was exposed at the top of her jeans. The feeling of her body pressed against your warm cunt, the only thing separating the two of you being the think material of your shorts, drove Ellie to the brink of insanity.
She hummed softly, her eyes trailing down your every feature, taking you in, eating you up for a moment before she grabbed your chin, tilting your head up and away to give her better access to the little area of your throat that had now become hers and only hers.
Soon, she’s leaning down, her body pressed against yours as she peppers kisses along your jaw until she reaches your throat, licking at the two little wounds that were in the shape of her fangs before she sighed against your skin, finally giving in and letting her protruding fangs sink into your skin.
You’d always been comfortable around Ellie, never shying away from her touch whenever she’d grab you whenever you were out together, or letting her easily pull you into her lap whenever you watched movies or played video games together, intimate touches never being out of the ordinary in your relationship.
But now, ever since you and her had started…whatever it was that you’d been doing, you had seemed to cross a boundary that was once put up. What was once little sighs and huffs, turned into full on moans whenever Ellie would press her body against yours and take what she wanted. You’d grip her hair, keeping her close as you moaned and whined out her name, breathless begs for her to keep going.
“Fuck…Ellie…” you moaned out for her, your eyes fluttering shut as your fingers laced into her brown hair, keeping her close as her hands moved from either sides of your head to instead grip your body. Your hips were her favorite, holding onto the plush skin and keeping you close, massaging and kneading you as she pleased, a small piece of her wanting to bruise you up, just so she knew she was able to leave marks on you other than your neck.
It egged her on further, your calls for her making her swipe her tongue over the wound before she continued sucking your sweet essence from your body. Ellie wasn’t sure if you were fond of it at first, but now? With how you reacted? She was sure you enjoyed it, if even a little bit.
She became so drunk off of you, her mind clouded with the intense flavor of your blood, nearly choking on it with how quickly she drank sometimes. One of her hands left your hips, sliding down until she gripped your thigh, pulling it up and closer to wrap around her body, massaging the soft skin as she let one of her legs slip over your other one, so that her thigh was slotted against your cunt, and yours against hers.
Ellie didn’t even realize it at first, but she slowly began to grind into you, letting her thigh rub against your barely clothed pussy as she drank from you, her senses completely overwhelmed with just how fucking good you tasted, how good you felt. She felt her mind and body buzz with electricity when she pressed her chest against yours, and she could feel your nipples hardening through the thin material of your shirt, pressing against her own chest.
“Mm…h-hah…Ellie..I….Ellie please…” you begged, and Ellie was able to hear the way your voice was slowly going, growing more and more hoarse with every moan, every pant.
She was taking too much, and she wasn’t sure if she was begging for you to stop, or to keep going.
Ellie groaned loudly against you, prying her lips away from your dulcet neck, panting loudly as she pulled away further to look down at you, letting herself get a good look at the mess she’d made of you.
Your lips were swollen, eyes growing heavy, skin getting dull. Your hair was messy, and your shirt was pulled down further, revealing more of your shoulder and collar bones, while the bottom was pushed up to show more of your stomach.
It was like a dream and a nightmare all at once.
You blinked a few times as you tried catching your breath, staring up at Ellie as one of your hands came up to cup her cheek gently.
“A-all better?” You stuttered out, giving her that notorious dreamy smile of yours, the one that made Ellie feel like she was the only person in the world that got to see it.
She’s drained you, and yet you were asking if she felt better.
Ellie held back a groan, her large hand wrapping around your wrist before she brought your hand down to press a kiss to your palm, giving you a gentle nod before she inhaled deeply to control the emotions that threatened to escape while she saw you this way.
“Always when I’m with you baby” she chuckled out sadly.
The smile you give Ellie nearly has her in tears, because you look so genuinely happy, so content with the fact that you’ve helped her, that you’ve made Ellie feel better, even if it’s at the expensive of your own comfort.
At the expensive of your own life.
“I’m glad…” you hummed out softly before you yawned, clearly tired out from what Ellie had done to you. It makes Ellie frown, and she’s quickly pushing herself off of you before she scoops you up into her arms to carry you off to your bedroom.
Soon, she has you tucked into bed, your eyes closing almost as soon as your head hits the pillow, and Ellie has your blankets pulled up over your arms. It’s almost mind blowing how quickly you fall asleep, it makes Ellie feel a bit jealous, because she can’t remember a time where she was that comfortable in a bed to fall asleep so fast.
She watches you, of course. Sticking around for a few hours after you’ve slept, keeping an eye on you to make sure your chest continues to rise and fall slowly. She knows it would never go that far, but she always gets nervous after feeding.
Tonight was also different, and it was eating away at her because she knew there wasn’t really a right or wrong way to go about cleaning about it, or comforting you about how wrong this was, and how much Ellie had been draining you. Even the fact that you expected it of her when she came over left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that replaced the sweet one that usually lingered on her tongue after she had a taste of you.
And as she watched you sleep, so peaceful and so serene, Ellie began to think of any way this would blossom into something more. How would this carry on? She would continue sucking from you until you died one day? She’d come to you like a thief in the knight well after you had a family? Children to look after? Your life moving on while she stayed in an immortal purgatory? One where she continued the cycle of coming to you for a quick bite to eat? Paired with a warm body to lay on top of for the time being?
There was no way it could surpass this. You being her friend, helping her in a way not many could. Ellie knew, that deep down, the life she wanted with you was not one that was easy to come by, something that she wouldn’t dare ask of you. From the moment she saw you, she wanted more. Because that’s what she did, she took, and took, and took until there was nothing left to take, and it was slowly happening with you.
But Ellie loved you too fucking much to take until you were nothing but a shriveled up peace of what you used to be.
So, she took one long last look at you and she left your window. Because that night, she promised herself that she was finished. The life she wanted with you unfortunately wasn’t written in the stars for her, and she knew that from the moment she saw you.
Ellie was letting you go, because she knew it she didn’t.
She’d just end up killing you.
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meetmymouth · 10 months
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social media au: harry and y/n are besties. really good besties. featuring LOTS of tweets, memes, insta posts and harry being horny in the comments section.
note; i rarely use a face claim. for this one, i somehow (it just happened) used gracie abrams. there’s not many photos of her, though. hope u still find something funny below to enjoy either way.
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lloyddddddddddddddddd Love On Tour. Nothing I can type here can describe what the past 18 months have been like for me. I’ve loved every second. Thank you so much to everyone involved and to all of the incredible people Ive met along the way for making it a truly phenomenal experience.  And ofc a special thank you to @harrystyles for bringing me along, what a boy.  Hope you all enjoyed the pics 💘
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bradgouldtraining Best in da game
ynsgolden LLOYD ITS SEVEN IN THE MORNING!!!!!!!
glenne_azoff @yn
paulithepsm @yn
harryshoehouse bet u were giggling taking the second pic
lolharryshouse why's everyone tagging y/n lmao
harrysgrapejuice EVERYONE TAGGING Y/N JHFBSDNS
yn nice abs asshole
harrysgotthestyles YN!!!! LMAOOOOOOOOOO jessbrian ok girly we see u dianelouise JUST TEXT HIM LMAO
captainstyles someone check on y/n lmao
jeff_azoff @yn 👀
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yn day n night (see also: my two personalities)
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ynsbread ok but queen
harryteheestyles sooooooo classy 🙄
harryscowboy WHOSE PILLOWS??????????
gemmastyles That t-shirt is so you.
yn thanks again 😂
bradgouldtraining 👀
anthonypham don't start yn yeah be gone mr. muscle
harrystyles 🐎
theestylees OMG HAYRY????D??@EFKCJ giawilliams ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE harrysgoldboots boY JUST TEXT HER LMAO ynshouse you guys are so h*rny for each other it's insaneeeee lovemeontour gIRLLLLLLLLLLLLL WHATS THET MEAN bradrry YOU ARE INSANE FOR THISSSSSSSSSS
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yn i ♥️ italia
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ynxniall i recognise that eye
aveceyepatch GREEN EYES
ynsbestie i know that eye
annetwist 🥰😍😘!
goldenharry MOTHER APPROVES
ynarchive soft launch.........SOFT LAUNCH
harrystrainer girl they were eating each other's faces yesterday what soft launch are u talking about!!!!
harrystyles 🤝
fratrryy BOY BYE breadkingharry GIRLLLLLLLLL YOURE TOO MUCH zarrysheart harry.... ynspookie you're playinnnnnnn too much
bradgouldtraining Slay!
yn i will be blocking you
stylesarchive faves
jeff_azoff Slayyy.
kidharpoon Slayed
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queenimmadolla · 3 months
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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞
(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)
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next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.
a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)
Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.
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THEN, 1986.
  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 
  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.
  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 
  “Wha’?”
  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”
  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”
  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 
  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 
  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 
  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 
  Someone. 
  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 
  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.
  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.
  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.
  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 
  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 
  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 
  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.
  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.
  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.
  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.
  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.
  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.
  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.
  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.
  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.
  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.
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  NOW, 1989
  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.
  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.
  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.
  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 
  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.
  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.
  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.
  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 
  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 
  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 
  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?
  Your mother was murdered.
  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.
  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 
  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.
  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.
  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 
  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 
  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.
  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.
  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 
  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.
  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 
  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 
  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.
  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 
  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”
  It was a little odd, but you did. 
  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?
  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.
  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”
  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.
  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.
  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 
  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”
  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’
  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”
  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.
  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.
  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”
  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”
  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.
  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 
  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”
  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.
  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?
  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”
  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”
  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 
  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”
  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 
  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”
  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.
  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 
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  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”
  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 
  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”
  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”
  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.
  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.
  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 
  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 
  Didn’t feel like it.
  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”
  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.
  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”
  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”
  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”
  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”
  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 
  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”
  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.
  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.
  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.
  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.
  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.
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“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”
  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.
  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.
  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 
  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.
  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 
  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 
  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.
  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 
  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 
  “Okay, spill.”
  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.
  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 
  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 
  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 
  “Steve Harrington.”
  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.
  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.
  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”
  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”
  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”
  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 
  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.
  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 
  “Does he flirt with you?”
  “No.”
  “See him flirt with any girls?”
  “Nope.”
  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”
  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”
  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”
  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”
  “He’s on the spectrum?”
  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”
  It got quiet for a few moments.
  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”
  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 
  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.
  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”
  “Reefer Rick?”
  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”
  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”
  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”
  Munson.
  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”
  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”
  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”
  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”
  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.
  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”
  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.
  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.
  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.
  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”
  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.
  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 
  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”
  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.
  “H-He’s your favorite…?”
  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”
  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”
  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 
  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”
  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”
  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”
  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”
  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.
  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.
  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 
  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”
  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.
  Maybe a drink would calm you down.
  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.
  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 
  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.
  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”
  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”
  Oh, shit. 
  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.
  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.
  ”Funny seeing you here.”
  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.
  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”
  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 
  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.
  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.
  “Oh.”
  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”
  OH, THANK FUCK. 
  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.
  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”
  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”
  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.
  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.
  “Hey, Carol.”
  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”
  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 
  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”
  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.
  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”
  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.
  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.
  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.
  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”
  “Oopsie.”
  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.
  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 
  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.
  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.
  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.
  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.
  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 
  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.
  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.
  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.
  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.
  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?
  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”
  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.
  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”
  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.
  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.
  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”
  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.
  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 
  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.
  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.
  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”
  “Wall.”
  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”
  “Great Wall of China.”
  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.
  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”
  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 
  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.
  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.
  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 
  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.
  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.
  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”
  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.
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  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.
  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.
  “Does that feel good?”
  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 
  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”
  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.
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  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.
  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.
  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.
  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.
  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.
  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.
  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.
  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.
  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror
  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 
  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.
  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.
  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.
  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”
  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.
  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 
  His right arm was out, palm up.
  He was waiting for you.
  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.
  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.
  “Sissy. . .”
  “Sissy…”
  “SISSY!”
  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.
  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 
  What the hell?
  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”
  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 
  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.
  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”
  “Oh my god…”
  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.
  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.
  “Ooh, your knees…”
  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…
  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.
  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.
  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.
  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”
  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 
  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 
  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.
  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”
  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”
  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.
  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.
  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.
  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”
  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”
  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”
  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”
  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”
  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”
  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.
  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”
  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.
  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 
  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”
  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 
  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.
  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.
  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.
  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.
  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.
  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”
  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”
  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.
  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.
  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”
  “THAT WE DO!” 
  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.
  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.
  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.
  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”
  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.
  “Mm. White wine?”
  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”
  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”
  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.
  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”
  You shot him a glare.
  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”
  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 
  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.
  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.
  Then your eyes snapped open.
  Oh, god. You were a loser.
  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.
  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.
  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.
  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.
  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.
  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 
  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”
  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.
  “Yes, we got a free soda!”
  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”
  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.
  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”
  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.
  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.
  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”
  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.
  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 
  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”
  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”
  “I bet you can.”
  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.
  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.
  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.
  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 
  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 
  And it was coming from outside your front door.
  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.
  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 
  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.
  “Uuuhhhnng…”
  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!
  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.
  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.
  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”
  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.
  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”
  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.
  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 
  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 
  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.
  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 
  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.
  “Stop it!”
  “Leave me alone!”
  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”
  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.
  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!
  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”
  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.
  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 
  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 
  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 
  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.
  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.
  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.
  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.
  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.
  “It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 
  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 
“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”
  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.
  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”
  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.
  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.
  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.
  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”
  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.
  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”
  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.
  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.
  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”
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star-girl69 · 4 months
Text
I Did Something Bad
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
—-
synopsis: you somehow become the target of a deadly vendetta, and it ends in an overnight stay in the infirmary, a lot of blood, and a lot of your scary girlfriend being her scary self.
a/n: save me clarisse “touch her and die” la rue save me save me save me save me save me save me… this is a completely self indulgent fic and no i will not apologize. love y’all!!!!!
inspired by an ask @nvirskies sent me
I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift
warnings: not proofread, VERY VIOLENT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF Y/N GETTING INJURED!!!!! BLOOD!!!!! WOUNDS!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, anyways…. DANNNNNYYYYYY MY BABY!!!!! HES BACK!!!!!, ares cabin bonding time <3, FOUND FAMILY, y/n is crazy too, insane power couple who are insane together!!, y’all know what’s going on…… protective clarisse, possessive clarisse, insane clarisse, murderous clarisse, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, swearing, attempted murder!, LOTS of violence, kissing, clarisse hates talking about her feelings but she will do it for y/n, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
It’s the one place where she really gets to be in her element. That’s where she prefers to be- in the moment, hard and fast, a flurry of swords and adrenaline and the feeling of someone surrendering.
Of course, Clarisse is never the one surrendering. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone surrender to her.
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
And that love is also shared by her equally violently-minded siblings, which is why you’re sitting on her lap in the middle of the Ares cabin, listening to everyone scream and shout about tactics and plans and things that are just general boring.
Clarisse, of course, listens to everything. Silently humming to herself, drumming her fingers against your stomach, rolling her eyes and scoffing silently at some of her siblings ideas.
They all shout out ideas, but everyone knows that Clarisse has the final say.
You should probably be preparing with your own cabin- but this is just so much fun.
The tension in the room rises significantly after Nelson shuts down another one of Carrie’s ideas. Carrie has a mind made for the strategy of battle, where Nelson is all tough war and pain.
Clarisse likes to brag that she’s the perfect mix of both.
“I’m bored,” you huff, leaning back into your girlfriend. “Can they start punching each other again? Or something entertaining?”
She laughs and wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “You’re so violent,” she mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the violent one.”
“I jus’ think it’s really funny,” you shrug. “Like, can you blame me? It’s objectively funny.”
Danny, your favorite of Clarisse’s siblings, skitters through his older siblings and throws himself onto the couch next to you.
“Did they start fighting yet?” he asks, practically bouncing in his seat.
“No,” you sigh, dramatically.
Clarisse puts her arm around his shoulder, and you know she feels ridiculously proud over the fact that she’s the favorite of the most lovable member of the Ares cabin, and the fact you’re literally draped over her.
Not your fault she’s so comfy.
“Hey, how you feelin’ about tomorrow?” you ask Danny.
His face hardens. “I’m gonna fuck a bitch up.”
“Oh, my Gods,” you mutter, listening to Clarisse chuckle and pat his back.
“Hell yeah,” she smiles.
“Good!” you say after a second, feeling slightly disturbed over the 11 year-old’s colorful language. But, who are you to stop him?
Clarisse sighs after a moment, and you look up to see Carrie and Nelson finally at each other’s throats. Besides for the fact it’s just so funny when the siblings fight, they should get all of the anger out now so they can work as a team tomorrow.
“Well, no, Nelson, we aren’t gonna fucking ‘kill them with kindness,’ because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Hey, fuckers,” Clarisse says, but they’re too absorbed in the fight to hear her.
You scramble off of her, climbing over Danny, watching in amazement as he opens the bag of pretzels he did not have in his hand a second ago- stuffing one in his mouth and holding it out to you.
These pretzels might have been buried in between the couch cushions. But they’re sealed, so who cares.
“You know what, fuck you, Carrie!” Nelson shouts, pushing her back.
“Askin’ for it,” she laughs, winding up and punching him straight in the face.
You can’t feel bad for the crunch, because Nelson should have know Carrie was gonna punch him- he could have at least put in an effort to stop her. Instead, he just stood there and took it.
“Oh,” Matty winces, sliding next to you. Why the hell are random things just appearing? Did he come out of the cushions too? Probably, seeing as he’s always falling asleep. “Askin’ for it,” he mumbles, shaking his head.
Nelson recovers from the hit and jabs at Carrie- but she stands there, hand on her hip, completely still.
Clarisse catches his arm.
He’s breathing out heavily, and the room goes pretty much silent- except for you, Danny and Matty chomping on pretzels in the corner of the couch.
“You’re fuckin’ embarrassing, Nelson.”
He pulls himself away from her and huffs, heading to the bathroom to deal with his bright red cheek.
Clarisse sighs heavily.
“Gods, can’t have one night without someone punching someone.”
Carrie looks around the room with a smug smile, scoffing when Clarisse shoulders her as she walks past. She lays down in your waiting arms, kissing your hand as you wrap them around her.
“Gettin’ on my nerves,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning into you.
“I know,” you soothe, turning around and making a silly face to Danny at her dramatics.
—-
Nelson is obviously still angry the next day. His helmet doesn’t cover all of the nasty bruise on his cheek, a sickening purple against his tan skin.
Him and Carrie swap glares across the the throngs of red helmets.
“Okay, Carrie, stop,” you huff. “He might actually kill you. You’re the one who got a punch in- let it go.”
She turns to glare at you, now.
“Tell him to stop staring at me.”
“Well, you can help by looking away first.”
“Fine,” she mumbles, putting her helmet on and tightening her grip on her sword. Chiron made his usual speech around 10 minutes ago, and Clarisse has finally finished updating everyone- more like yelling incoherently at everyone- about their positions.
But you have a similar strategy.
The blue team has the brains of the Athena Cabin, but the red team has all the brute strength.
Clarisse huffs, walking over to you and Carrie.
“Okay, ready?” she asks, reaching over to tighten the straps of your armor- even through they’re perfectly fine- by habit.
Carrie let’s out a deep breath. “Yes. Very ready to fuckin’ pummel those blue shits and pretend they’re Nelson.”
“That’s the spirit!” you smile, slapping her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and steps away from you, smiling slightly.
Danny and Matty walk over, and your little band is complete. You hunt in the woods just south of the flag, deterring a lot of hopefuls. The older campers know to come up with sneakier ways to get by, but Clarisse is otherwise confident in those she placed by the flag to really protect it.
You strike out into an offensive stance, pointing the end of your blade straight at Danny- and he quickly counters with his own impeccable stance.
“Oh, yeah, they don’t stand a chance,” you smile, and he returns it.
—-
You take your normal routes through the woods.
With the added weight of you and Danny, the group is not as stealthy as they could be- but Clarisse is a secret teddy bear who doesn’t like to be away from you for long, and Danny is too young to be set loose, left to watch the big kids work, occasionally jumping in for a few swings.
Leaves crunch under your feet in the otherwise silent forest. You’ve already come across a few stragglers, and before you could even raise your sword the Ares siblings had disarmed them. Your heart squeezed seeing the absolutely heartbroken look on Danny’s face- he was promised that this time he could really fight.
And after you pulled Clarisse off to the side and reminded her of her deal- Danny was leading the group, with you and Clarisse behind him.
He marches tall and proud, sword pointed out, even though Clarisse scolds him and says his arm will get tired- he’s young and doesn’t listen to his half-sibling.
You smile, watching him, admiring how carefree he is. The walk continues mostly in a stealthy silence- Clarisse, Carrie and Matty has mastered the art of walking silently- so your cover is lost by you and Danny.
Of course, whenever you try to convince Clarisse that maybe you should go somewhere else- she looks at you like you’ve suddenly turned into a female Minotaur.
Clarisse, her hand in yours right now, has a hard time understanding the concept that she can’t be with you all the time. That you might get hurt, that she can’t always stop it.
It’s sweet how constantly concerned she is over you, it makes your stomach twist so good.
She squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your reverie. Voices.
“Danny,” you whisper, almost silently, kicking the back of his leg. When he turns around, frown on his face, you point towards the direction of the voices- and now footsteps.
You all stop in your tracks.
Danny practically jumps up in down, you smile wide, and Clarisse signals to Carrie and Matty, urging you and Danny closer to the action.
When they come into the clearing, a few Hermes kids dressed in blue bandanas, swords in their hands. They’re all strong, you’ve seen them around- recognize them vaguely as potentials that lost to Clarisse in ugly sparring matches.
The siblings have disappeared into the trees.
So it’s just you, unsuspecting, and Danny.
You can see the triumphant looks on their faces.
Except for one of them.
Nicky, maybe? You don’t care enough about him to know his name. But there’s something more in his eyes that you notice immediately, something similar to the passion Clarisse gets in her eyes at the mention of this game.
Danny jumps forward, sword swinging just the way his blood knows, the way his siblings have taught him meticulously.
They seem momentarily surprised at the force his small body can produce, quickly countering with their own jabs, swords clashing together. The other focuses on you.
You’re not worried, you know the siblings are just letting the two of you have your moments before they really come in and you can sit back and watch Clarisse fight. Muscles rippling, sick smile on her face, spear glowing with electricity.
He comes at you and your swords clash together, the force of it making your teeth ring- Gods, he’s strong. He pulls back and you do the same thing a few more times, neither of you able to get the upper hand- until he finally seems to realize his height advantage.
He swings his sword down on you, pressing down hard- and with gravity on his side you have to put all of your focus into stopping that downward sword.
You don’t see his foot coming out to kick you back.
You only feel it, boot in your chest, wind knocked out of you, groaning as you slam into the ground.
“Fuck,” you breathe, tasting blood in your mouth.
“Y/N!” Danny shouts, and that’s when you see his sword coming down on you again. He does it on purpose, that much is sword, the strategic placing of his sword slicing through the top of your arm.
He doesn’t mean to kill you. He means to hurt you.
His purpose isn’t winning the game, you realize as the blade tears through skin, his purpose is to hurt you. That’s what you saw in his eyes.
Delight that his prey was right in front of him.
The realization washes over you like a wave- but like the real ocean, another one comes- an overwhelming feeling of pain, blooming outward like a flower.
He bites his lip in concentration, standing over you as his blade sinks into the dirt. He smiles wide, hitting his target.
You scream.
It’s a quick stop. The clearing is filled with the sound of your screams, swords stopping in midair- everyone realizing simultaneously that you’re really hurt. That this boy hurt you on purpose.
Something cuts through the air, wind in your ears, swiftly burying itself through Nicky’s armor and into his side.
You’ve realized in the last day that men are stupid. First, it was Nelson not expecting to get punched, and now it was Nicky not prepared for a retaliation after hurting you.
The thick armor slowed down the spear, so it unfortunately stabs his side and falls right out.
He yells in pain, ripping off his armor, revealing a small cut. Nothing compared to yours, but you can faintly recognize the fire in his eyes before Matty is leaning over you and Carrie is wrapping a bandana above the pain in your arm.
You hear the sounds of something happening, someone fighting, skin on skin.
You hear all of this, you see all of it, but all you can feel is the burning, burning cut in your arm. It feels like he cut it off. Your mind is hazy, you know blood is gushing, you never knew something could hurt this bad.
You faintly realize you bit your tongue when you went down. Blood spurts from your mouth when you cough, when you groan in pain, when you say her name like a prayer over and over again.
“Clarisse,” you moan, legs twisting around, trying to get away from the pain that you can’t escape from. “Clarisse, Clarisse, please, Clar…”
Matty pulls your head into his lap.
You can tell it’s bad, you can see the queasy look on his face. You clench your fist- the one you can feel, at least- to keep from screaming, heels digging into the dirt. You’re still trying to get away. But you can’t. You can’t get away from this all consuming pain.
“It’s okay,” Danny whispers, suddenly appearing next to you. He voice shakes, he doesn’t know, he can’t tell you anything reassuring.
“Can you go find someone, Danny? One of the Apollo kids, anyone?”
He ignores Carrie, starring at you for a second longer.
“Y/N,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, finally able to act like the young boy he is.
“You can go,” you breathe, somehow finding the strength to make him believe you’re okay. “Go help me, okay?”
His little footsteps disappear into the woods faster than you’ve ever heard him run, even when they have his favorite brownies for dessert.
You let out a sob.
“D-did he cut it off?” you moan. “It feels like he cut it off, please tell me he didn’t… he didn’t cut my arm off…”
“Oh, fuck, no,” Carrie breathes, pressing down agains the wound to try and stop the blood from gushing out- but it doesn’t really help. It’s just too much. “I mean, it’s deep and it’s nasty, but you’ve still got an arm, don’t worry.”
She laughs, awkwardly, nervously. You can feel even more of your arm drifting away, blood pouring out onto the ground.
“Hey, hey, no,” Matty mutters, lightly hitting your face.
“Wha-”
“Can’t fall asleep, Y/N,” Carrie says, nervously. “Sit up against Matty, come on, huh?” you lean against Matty, head clearing now that there’s fresh air in your system.
Your eyes focus on Clarisse.
Except she’s not anywhere near you, she’s 10 feet away, punching Nicky so hard you’re surprised he’s still standing.
Carrie cringes. “Okay, maybe don’t look at that.”
But you’re sort of entranced by her. She’s not outwardly angry, her face reveals nothing- just a mask of hard, unrelenting focus. It should scare you, how much concentration she puts into her deadly punches, blood flying with each hit she lands. Her knuckles are red, his face is a mess, but it’s exhilarating to know she would do this for you.
A sickening crack rents the air. “My fucking nose, fuck, fuck, screw you, you fucking bitch! Fuck-”
The smallest smile creeps it way onto her face. She wipes her mouth, leaving blood on her lips- but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“I can keep going!” she shouts back, grabbing his shirt. “You wanna do that shit? I’m only getting started. I’m gonna throw you around, then I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”
“Wait! Wait, okay, wait, shit,” he breathes, holding his hands up in surrender. Blood pours from his nose, down to her hand bunched in his shirt. He’s taller than her, yet he’s surrendering.
“You’re pathetic,” she hisses, pushing him back. He hits the ground with a groan, trying to grab for a rock, a sword, anything to defend himself against Clarisse and her fury.
Clarisse loves capture the flag.
One of the reasons why she does is because she gets to let out all her anger. She looks at you, but not in your eyes- she looks at the wound on your arm. You can see the red pouring out of the corner of your eye- but you choose to ignore it, instead focusing on the way the fire inside of her gets relit at the sight of your blood. She has plenty reason to be angry now.
She grabs her spear, sauntering over to him, laughing at the way he can’t even try to get up.
“So fuckin’ stupid,” she smiles, tilting her head. Then the tip of her spear is pointing right at his neck, she’s standing over him the way he did to you. “How’s it feel?” she smiles.
He coughs, hissing in pain.
“I’m scared, Clarisse, okay? You got your fucking revenge, but it wasn’t me.”
She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I just saw you cut her, dumbass. I really should kill you, just as a favor to the world.”
“Paid me,” he coughs. “Drachmas, in exchange for hurting your girlfriend-”
She presses the blade against his throat, he yells out.
“Who?”
He stays silent.
“Who?!” she yells, kicking his stomach.
“Nelson!” he screams. “Nelson! Nelson paid me, please, Clarisse-”
She moves the blade away, and he hisses- she probably just barely drew blood.
“I’m not done yet,” she whispers, deadly promise dripping from her words. She turns around, fades out of focus for a second, and then she’s right next to you.
Her hands are cupping your face, she looks sick, seeing you like this up close- but all she does is kiss your forehead. Like you, she doesn’t want to look at your flesh and blood.
“I’m here, I’m here, oh, fuck. Gods, what the fuck,” she mumbles, looking very pointedly away from the wound, finally seeing how bad it is up close.
“Clarisse.”
“I know,” she whispers, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.”
Danny runs into the clearing, shouting “just over here” while healers follow him, immediately groaning at the smell of blood, the sight of it.
Clarisse switches places with Matty, holding you against her, kissing your head again and again, muttering about how brave you are.
You almost laugh at the odd looks the Apollo kids give her, unused to seeing the big bad Clarisse so soft. But they just don’t know her like you do. She doesn’t love them like she loves you.
One of them starts to clean the blood, and your eyes drift shut as the other starts to mend your skin back together.
—-
You wake up with familiar curly hair in your face.
You spit it out, groaning, mouth feeling fuzzy, everything feelings fuzzy.
“Clarisse?” you mumble, eyes not even open, but you wake up with that hair in your mouth everyday, and you’ve memorized the weight of her arm around your waist.
She sits up immediately, jumping out of bed, standing up and fixing her messy hair like someone’s gonna be there.
“Um, hello? I was speaking, crazy girl.”
“Oh, thank Gods,” she mumbles, blowing hair out of her face and sitting back down. “Thought we got caught.”
You look at her, then your surroundings-
“Oh, holy shit,” she says, staring at you like a deer in headlights. “Wait, you’re awake. You’re awake!”
She throws her arms around you, burying her face into your neck, reverberating with the sound of your laughter.
“You make it sound like I’ve been in a coma for 10 years.” Your heart drops. “Have I… been asleep for a while?”
“Um,” she says, softly, biting her lip as she extricated herself from your neck. “Capture the flag was yesterday, so… no.”
“So you’re just being dramatic?”
“Possibly,” she smiles. “It’s not my fault you’ve taken over my entire brain.” She shows her bruised knuckles, split open, already starting to scab. “I said not to fix ‘em up. They don’t hurt that bad, and they look fucking cool.”
You grab her hands, relieved it’s only been a day, kissing the rough scabs. She blushes, although she tries her best not to, breathing in deeply.
“How are you feeling, baby?”
You look towards your totally healed arm, finally realizing that you know have full control of your hands, unlike yesterday. It’s wrapped in a bandage for precautions, but it feels totally healed.
“All good,” you smile.
“You gotta take it real easy for the next week or so, yeah?” she fusses, brushing hair behind your ear. “So you call me, or one of my siblings, anyone to help you with anything. No lifting heavy stuff, don’t do anything too fast- you might tear the healing.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll carry me around like a princess?” you giggle, laying back, inviting her into your arms. She gets back under the covers, head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat.
“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Practical. Very safe.”
You hit her shoulder. “I’m joking.”
“Eh, I’ll change your mind.”
You smile, running your hands through her hair, enjoying the early mornings with her warmth against you, soft sunlight peeking through windows.
She sits up after a moment, laying her head back on the pillow, arm back around your waist. She just sits there for a moment, you can feel her admiring you. Clarisse doesn’t look at you. She traces your face with her eyes, imagining it was her hands, her lips, she admires you like she sees a reverence in your eyes that has nothing to do with your godly parent.
“Can you promise me something?” she asks, whispering softly, even though you’re the only two people around.
“What?” you say, staring at the ceiling, feeling like you might fall back asleep.
“Don’t get hurt. Like, ever again, please.”
You smile. “Okay, baby,” you mumble.
“I’m serious,” she smiles, nudging your cheek with her nose. “I… I was really scared. And I don’t like to feel that way, especially when it comes to you. I was angry, too. I was so fuckin’ angry I’m surprised I didn’t kill him. You can’t get hurt like that, not again, you just gotta let me protect you. Or else I might actually kill someone, Y/N.”
“I know,” you mumble. “I watched you.”
“Did I scare you?” she asks, voice soft. There’s no hint of your loving, smiley Clarisse in this bed right now. She’s worried, as if she could ever scare you.
“No,” you say, honestly. “It’s sweet how far you’re willing to go for me.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. “You better like it. Do you know what I got for that? Eight months no dessert. Five months cleaning the fuckin’ stables.”
You barely hide your laugh. “Oh, my Gods, are you serious?”
“Yes,” she grumbles. “But, I’ve decided it’s fine. You’re my loving girlfriend, right? You can sit there all pretty so I have something to look at when I’m cleaning. And you’ll share your dessert with me, won’t you?”
“Yeah,” you mumble, turning your head. “I will.”
“I really love you. My perfect pretty princess,” she jokes, smiling lopsidedly, and you return it. “You’ll let me protect you, and maybe I can get some decent sleep at night, huh?”
When she presses her hand to your face and her lips to yours, you think nothing could possible ruin this moment. It’s just you and her, and everything that’s beautiful.
“You always protect me, Clar,” you smile.
She smiles, lips grazing yours. This is your Clarisse. The one who smiles just for you, who puts her rough hand softly against your face. This is your Clarisse, the one who would do anything for you, the one who wants to carry you around, the one who wants to protect you and hold you and never let anyone fuck with her baby.
The door slams open, someone is laughing boisterously, another person is groaning in pain, and a familiar voice is shouting your names.
“Clarisse! Y/N! Clarisse, Clarisse! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Danny shouts, dragging out the last syllable of your name. He jumps onto the bed by your feet, even when Clarisse frowns, looking at you like a puppy dog who’s just brought a dead bird to your doorstep.
And as you look at the scene behind you, Nelson being laid on another bed, Carrie being helped into the corner- laughing hysterically, knuckles split open.
Nelson’s face is practically unrecognizable.
You suppose Danny really did bring something unsavory like a dead bird, dropping it right at your feet.
“So, we all woke up right?”
Your eyes whip to Danny, shocked as he know launches into a story about Carrie waking up to Nelson saying he hadn’t been called to the Big House yet, maybe he would get away from it- but swiftly received punishment in the form of Carrie’s fists. With Clarisse in your bed, no one had the guts to stop them, and they fought for what must have been 10 minutes- Nelson very obviously losing.
“And, now we’re here,” Danny sighs, breathing out after his long and embellished rant. “But you’re awake, Y/N!”
He looks at your skeptically- specifically, at your arm.
“Can I hug you?”
“Oh,” you smile, your heart twisting with such a fondness for this wonderful little kid. “Of course you can, Danny,” you smile, opening your arms wide.
“Yes, just be careful,” Clarisse cautions, her arm around your waist. “Watch the arm, huh?”
“He’s just a baby, Clarisse,” you mumble, breath messing his hair.
“He’s 11.”
“Baby,” you reinforce, squeezing him tighter.
“Y/N… you’re crushing me,” he groans.
“Oops,” you say, letting him go. “You’re just too cute,” you coo.
Clarisse scoffs from next to you. You smile, kissing her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Scary, dangerous. Not cute, though.”
She hums. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Carrie walks over, sporting her split knuckles, also opting to let them heal naturally like Clarisse. She shows them off with a wide smile, even as Nelson screams in the background when they reset his nose.
Matty rubs his temples.
You smile, looking around at your very dysfunctional, very awkward, but loving family-adjacent.
“Hey, did we end up winning the game?” you ask.
Clarisse snorts. “Oh, nah. Without us, they were lost. Who cares, though?”
“Yeah, I liked beating Nelson up much more than I would have liked winning,” Carrie smiles.
“Next time,” Danny starts, “Can I lead again?”
Clarisse squints at him. “…Maybe.”
You wink at him, nodding subtly.
“Okay!” he smiles.
Clarisse kisses your forehead.
“I love you, pretty baby,” she mumbles.
You smile. “I love you too, scary baby.”
—-
clarisse when she sees y/n get hurt: oh so the only natural response to to THROW A FUCKING SPEAR AT SOMEONE
appreciation for the fact she threw it from like really far away and just tore through his armor likkkkeeee
nelson and nicky sitting in the infirmary together hugging each other terrified clarisse and carrie are going to come back for more
nicky does not sleep at night anymore SHE SAID SHE WASNT DONE
—-
shout out to my baby danny he carried this fic fr
shoutout to y/n for getting WRECKED so we could have this beautiful moment w clarisse
shoutout to matty for being his beautiful self
shoutout to carrie for being her violent self
and finally shoutout to clarisse for being overprotective and insane
—-
clarisse after she actually convinced y/n to let her carry her around everywhere: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
bitch is so happy…
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1
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ellecdc · 3 months
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Darling, the possessive!Remus fic was sooo good!! 🩵😫
Could i request another part please?? Hwere reader is hiding something, maybe an injury or illness or scent or something stupid she did with James... idk what but something. Anyway, reader sees Siri and Rem, stops, makes eye contact, then bolts in the opposite direction 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
I feel like both (especially Rem) would instinvtively chase, maybe they find her begging Jamie to hide her 😭
Love you lots!! And remember to get enough rest 🩵
Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and saviour Jesus Christ? Sir? Don't run from the lord!!!! No, you're so right babes.
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader
CW: slight injury, nothing major, fluff
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“Okay, well the wound is closed but there’s not much I can do about the bruising or the blood on your shirt.” James said as he gently pulled your uniform shirt back down from where he’d been inspecting your ribs.
“That’s fine – I’ll ice it later; I’ve gotta meet the girls like five minutes ago.” You said as you pulled a jumper over yourself to hide the blood staining your shirt. 
“Are you sure you shouldn’t go to Madame Pomfrey?” James asked with a grimace.
You rolled your eyes. “If it hurts terribly, I’ll go later.”
“And you think you’ll be able to avoid Remus and Sirius until then?” James asked somewhat doubtfully. You grimaced in response. “This close to the moon, Remus will be able to smell that blood on you from across the castle.”
“I can’t worry about that right now; I need to go.” You said simply as the two of you rounded the corner. 
You halted suddenly as you spotted Remus and Sirius down the hall – they quickly noticed your tense demeanor which caused them to slowly cease their movements too, mirroring you as you stared them down and they you from across the corridor.
“James.” You murmured without moving a muscle. 
“Yeah?”
“Do you see them too?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you hide me?”
James groaned. “Y/N…”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me to the wolves.” 
“I love you, you’re the sister I never had...but I’ve got a Regulus to think about, you know?”
“It’s been an honour knowing you.” You responded solemnly, nodding in understanding.
“God speed.” He whispered back before you took off in a sprint. 
You could hear a shout and heavy footfalls behind you alerting you to the fact that you were indeed being followed.
You rounded corners and climbed flights of stairs, lungs and legs burning from the effort as you very much regretted your choice to bolt. Maybe you could have talked about it? Maybe you could have convinced Remus you were fine and did not need medical attention? Maybe Sirius would have sided with you?
But no, you chose to run when Remus was at his most possessive, territorial, and protective, and he was with accompanied by Sirius who rivaled Remus’ full moon possessiveness all month round. And also, why the hell does this school have so many stairs!?
Suddenly, refuge came in the form of the third-floor girls’ lavatory. You barrelled your way through the door, clamoring into a stall and locking the door behind you. You sat on the toilet seat and pulled your knees to your chest, though it was all for naught, because even if no one could see your feet, they’d surely hear your laboured breathing. 
You heard the door open again and the scuffling of feet followed by deep sighs. You pointed your face to the ceiling as you listened to the footsteps growing closer and closer before Sirius’ head and arms flung over the top of the stall beside you where he beamed goofily at you. 
“Hey gorgeous! What’re you doing?” He sung casually.
“What are you doing in here? This is the girl’s room.” You hissed at him as your face heated in embarrassment – both from being caught hiding from your boyfriends and of your boyfriend for following you to the loo.
“Where you go, I go.” He said simply with a shrug as if talking to his girlfriend over a bathroom stall was common practice. 
“Do you really think there’s anywhere in this castle that you can hide that I won’t find you?” Remus deadpanned from your opposite side, and you spooked (nearly slipping into the damned toilet) as you noticed he too was standing on the toilet of the stall beside you in order to look down on you.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” You muttered as you stood from your toilet hideout and exited the stall.
“Not that I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life chasing you, darling but-” Sirius started teasingly before he was cut off by Remus.
“What happened!?” He rasped as he reached for you gently.
“I’m fine, Rem.” You tried, but he swatted your hands away.
Slowly, so slowly – as if he was afraid the fabric of your clothes would somehow bruise your skin – lifted your jumper to expose the bloody button up below it.
“Baby!” Sirius cooed in sympathy.
“I’m fine.” You reiterated.
Remus shot you an unimpressed look. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Can you take this off, please?” He said as he gently lifted you to sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, motioning to the jumper currently shielding his view. 
You acquiesced and also began lifting the side of your blouse up unprompted. Both boys hissed as they saw the bruising on your ribs.
“What happened?” Remus asked again, gently prodding the area.
“Some first years got a little too rowdy in the hallway – running around and not watching where they were going. I bumped into a suit of armour, but James healed it up.” Remus’ head snapped up to yours as Sirius’ gaze darkened. 
“Prongs healed you? On your side? With your shirt up?” Sirius asked expressionlessly. 
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, for goodness – yes! What’s the big deal?”
He continued his interrogation as if you hadn't said anything at all. “He saw your shirt pulled up like this? He touched you here?”
You sputtered, turning your attention to Remus. “He heals you every month!” 
He grimaced in sympathy but clearly agreed with Sirius. “I guess...just seems a little...intimate.” He conceded.
“Well, do I have to get all worried about you guys on the full moons? Or that he gets to share a dorm room with you?” You asked sarcastically. Sirius smirked at you.
“Awe babes, you don’t have to be jealous – we’re all yours!” He said in a sultry tone as he moved to stand between your legs.
“You’re not funny.” You deadpanned. 
“You should go to Madame Pomfrey, love.” Remus stated after completing whatever diagnostic inspection he was doing on your side.
“Wha- no! Rem, I’m fine. Nothing is broken, it’s not bleeding. I’ll ice it when I get back to my dorm tonight, but I’m supposed to meet the girls. Please don’t make a big deal of this.” You were embarrassed that you’d been reduced to begging, but you could not bail on Lily and Marlene again.
Remus grimaced. “Love, I’d feel better if you had it looked at...”
But Sirius Black – equally as likely to be your saviour and your damnation – opted to take pity on you. “Oh, come on Moons. We can fuss over her all night; let her spend time with the girls.”
Remus groaned and looked between the two of you before rolling his eyes in surrender. “Fine. But I will fuss over you tonight, got it?” He muttered sternly, but the love and affection that pooled in his eyes as he said it diminished his chiding greatly.
“Of course. I’d not have it any other way.” You sang back to him as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.
“Okay. Let’s get out of the girl’s loo.” Sirius said as he turned and bent down in front of you, still seated on the bathroom counter.
“What are you doing?” You asked incredulously. Sirius scoffed as if you were being intentionally difficult.
“Giving you a ride, obviously. Can’t let our poor injured dolly walk these corridors on her own.” He backed up further into you and tapped your thighs with his hands impatiently.
“I very well can, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that your poor injured dolly just outran her two boyfriends.” You scoffed indignantly. 
“You know Moons, perhaps she should go to Madame Pomfrey after all.”
“Okay, okay!” You shrilled as you clamored up onto Sirius’ back.
Remus chuckled and pecked a sweet kiss to your temple – now almost at eye level with him as he placed a gentle hand on your back, protectively close to your sore ribs. 
“Thank you for appeasing us, sweetheart.” He murmured into your hairline.
You feigned annoyance, but you’d do so happily for as long as these two men would let you. 
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