#business... but i would like to stop feeling so negative about it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr was the first site to host the blog for President Barack Obama in 2011.

#business... but i would like to stop feeling so negative about it.

quaranmine · 1 year

Text

i know tumblr gives us a feeling of safety but it IS a public platform and as such there is literally no reason for CCs not to be able to use it just like we do. they're members of the public. we're members of the public. you see this right?

so i'd like to introduce you to a concept that i've been holding myself to since i made this blog: if you aren't prepared for a CC to potentially see something, don't post it at all!

now, realistically, i still post stuff i would cringe if a CC saw. it's a calculated risk i take, then, when i maintag these, because i count on the statistically low chance they'd see it. i accept that they might see something, and if they do see it or comment on it and i get embarassed then, well, i knew i could never eliminate the possibility completely and still chose to post it.

however, to further break it down--if you reallly don't want a CC to see it, don't main tag it. if you're even more serious about it, block the CC's blog (if it's known) and make sure to do it in blog settings if you use a sideblog. and if you still really, really, really want to be safe from a CC ever seeing it, then don't post it publically at all. dm your friends about it or whatever

idk, man. just control your own online experience. that doesn't only mean filtering/avoiding things you don't like, it also means being conscious of the things you put out into the world as well

#i feel like my mother saying this #discourse #i should stop posting about this tbh and move onto something less negative i just have Opinions #by realistically i mean like. i would cringe soooo hard if pearl found the chapters of htbahb that shes tagged in #but im willing to take that risk because i wanted to post my fanfic #does that make sense? i knew i cant control her going thru her tag on here or whatever so i just hoped she would know to avoid a fanfic lol #but like genuinely i have no way of knowing what ccs look at in their off time and it isnt my business

541 notes · View notes

guckies · 4 months

Text

Been seeing all the discussion about Tubbo being Em’s parents and…. 😬

It’s like we get a girl egg with all moms and it’s now feels like people are saying “she needs a dad!!” because a male is treating her like family…

I’m all for Tubbo being family to Empanada but being her dad?? It feels a lot like there are some misogynistic undertones there. Like family is not just parents it can be literally anything, same way Pepito has Foolish being grandma. Tubbo can have the same and be family in some way to Em.

But it’s like we have an all girl family but because the egg is interacting with others, people are inserting the males into it(the parent dynamic). Which just reads wrong when a majority of the island is male relationships and prominent male families where the girls are mainly just aunts to the children.

Have your headcannons but don’t try to insert them into the canon with your posts especially when a majority of the server relationships are male prominent.

#qsmp neg #qsmp discourse #just can we not have something for the girls?? also it feels even more weird when you do say that and people say well Tubbo’s gay anyway-#which how does that have anything to do with it??? like all for being strong family as in tio or smth like that #but pushing the hc of a gay dad in an all girl family feels like it has undertones i dont want to unpack rn #im not going to stop yall from having your headcanons but like take a step back and look at what the situation is and then think #also this literally happened when jaiden and roier were treating tilin and flippa like their children some people weren’t happy but not -#many weren’t watching multiple streams at the time so they’re wasn’t many complaining but its happened before #also happened a bit when bagi became richas mom #the only difference with those relationships where that the eggs choose and agreeds for them to be their parents #also it’s like yes we would love to see her parents log in more but literally they are all busy people and weren’t always incredibly active-#on the server apart from bagi which is smth the admins probably should have thought about if the new eggs were going to be taken care of #yes let em have her family and her lore but also let us have our female mums rep bc there is so little of it in qsmp #but calm down about em lore bc yall think its the most important thing out there when a whole losd of the eggs rarely have lore esp old eggs

17 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 3 months

Text

something abt The Family Unit as this bordered site potentially of a little system of authoritarianism being that it's really this example plenty of people have of how like, You Would Think "oh if the people In Charge realize the structural integrity of what they're in charge of & say they're Supporting is being degraded then surely on a practical basis they'd change course? compromise?" & like the compromises Are continually made to shore things up a little longer but it's a pyramid scheme & it's continuously crumbling. & the Logic of the authority is what's held on to no matter what, not whatever else is claimed to be the goal (e.g. having a Good Family, workplace, corporation, country...) & that means having all the power, which is never actually the case or possible so since that goal's never met it's really just about having More power (what's next, constant profit growth), & everything's oriented around That, such that yeah strategic fleeting compromises may be made but as this structure inevitably deteriorates further, i.e. the control as successfully applied power is being lost, it's not about compromising more & more until eventually things are egalitarian, it's more about lashing out & doubling & tripling & quadrupling down on the exact same measures always taken anyways, because of how the entire like belief is in being the authority, expressed by forever only following the logics of authority/hierarchy & control/abuse

that is to lead into how like, the Failure of [ostensible alternate practical goal: the cohesion of the perfect family(tm)] can happen in more obvious ways / on shorter timeframes than, say, the agenda of propping up an empire, & so there's like all this evidence of how even when the theoretically inviolate borders of The Family are ruptured there's like "wouldn't the relevant family members change their approach in the face of this undeniable failure. wouldn't they question themselves." b/c like, surely? how could you not? but the experience being overwhelmingly "absolutely they do not" with instead the doubling down, perhaps the strategic compromises that are then only used to wear away the targeted parties & then (perhaps after an incremental transition) be back at it once that defense is seemingly breached, but the same logic seems to "work" even in situations where whatever Unit is destroyed, partnership, family, friendship, acquaintanceship, b/c the sense of [i am entitled to More] is just like. undisturbed or "supported" by the ruptures & lack of access to whomever, the Denial of what they feel they're already entitled to. the dehumanization of others / No Need to ever have to consider & contend with those ppl's real feelings if you control their life enough anyways is all still at play & there's no room for even Now considering if you were wrong about how someone felt, so the logic might also default to things like "it's a total mystery but what matters is i was / am wronged" &/or "well things would've been great if i had my total authority like i should have & imagine i could have, so basically some Other enemy authority must be at fault (e.g. guess my child was converted by the gay agenda, the devil, the evil outside world, communist spies, anarchists, [the pc police the virtue signalers the woke dei agents the "almost forgot abt 'critical race theorists'"]" that it just so happens that agendas of Autonomy & Equality are ones that seem to inherently insidiously threaten & undermine their own. like yeah you're not wrong about that but in also true [every accusation a projection] form of course the belief must be that They are fostering bliss & freedom & the jealous evil agents of The Other are always trying to stop them :(

like "don't they realize this is counterproductive to the wellbeing of [what they're in charge of]" like compromises may be temporarily made along the way but not Really, no, & when push comes to shove it'll be about the priorizing of asserting & holding on to Controlling Lives vs anything that'd serve anything else. & that again, with families like you might see the decided Failure of that, e.g. very limited or completely absent relationship with an adult child, and you see that like. the Authority guardian/s who are the reason with it don't change their approach. any adjustments are strategic & meant to Ultimately restore the status quo; the people who managed to extricate themselves have to rely on their own ability to actually manifest their own choices to, say, be able to remove themself from the presence of this person if they want. and that like even with that lifelong experience of dealing with that Authority & the system under them it can be so difficult to believe like do they really not even question themself on all this despite the actual external consequences manifested? b/c the Logics are so different. the child made effectively Responsible for the actions of an adult or two / the supposed Wellbeing of the family is so much more used to having to consider others' Feelings & what might make them act xyz way, b/c of that impossible but evident tasking with being harmed if there's any Problems there, versus that the person "in charge of" the wellbeing of the family & individuals therein (& certainly the young children) being concerned with their own entitlement & whether everything seems to reinforce their authority, flexing it if not, disinterest in so much else, resentment for the physical needs of children as a begrudged investment in then lifelong entitlement to kids as property to give deference / whatever support you want. & when these "supported" children are never "grateful" enough, i.e. not noticeably thwarting efforts to access whatever a parent feels entitled to (with, exactly in line with all of this, pretty invariably Issues With (denial of) Any Boundaries, e.g. not allowed to close that bedroom door this is my house, not allowed to not want to be touched i made that body, not allowed to be unsupervised what are you hiding, not allowed to say no, not allowed to have feelings/moods/preferences/opinions not in harmony with mine...) like it's supposedly only an extreme, all the more sympathetic (to the authority parent) escalation of this Ingratitude to, if possible, escape the realm of said authority. can't believe they'd do this to me

just that tl;dr of like "but at this point [authority] is sabotaging themselves i.e. the longevity of any system where they even have that position of authority? surely they realize that & change their approach b/c they Have To?" & beyond "no, not necessarily" like it's so almost Necessarily that "they definitely will not & will just try to 'invest' in their perpetual authority (which is always trying to be Increased b/c it's also never total or unbroken) by upping the violence & lashing out & ignoring w/e they have to ignore b/c they do Not have any actual alternate way to address it" like no the parents lose the entire relationship with children & don't have Realizations abt it, don't question themselves, don't make a real change, don't stop feeling as, & increasingly, entitled

#you'd think they would. but they do not think that they would. it's a completely different Logical Framework #the impenetrability of ''i'm Superior to anyone; objects/props/property/tools in My life for My agenda''#if there's negative consequences of this treatment & it's constantly shattering b/c That Is Not Reality? it's just them being Wronged #you can just believe that forever. if you're trying to reject even the Vulnerability of [gotta consider other ppl Have thoughts; feelings]#then taking on the Vulnerability of; for one thing; That; & an entire upheaval of the rest of what you've built your whole Self around.....#it does not really happen. presumably some outliers / sure it can be Possible but even then it's like #is the priority ''converting'' ppl doing this. Convincing them to stop. or in how those affected can throw them off & have more support #yes we all think that would be lovely. but it's a whole Ideology. & [what do i care if xyz Believes im nonhuman if they cannot in practice #act on that belief & make it my problem] the external situations & manifestations of power Can be dealt with by others. ppl's internal #self is their own personal business Ultimately ofc. can feel entitled to Everything Forever sure but gotta get Other Ppl outta that sitch #this has also been resonating with like head in hands deep breath the like. [it's On Sight; Sound; Read Text; Anything] dehumanization as #an autistic person like ppl Do immediately assess the [this person's existing wrong] diagnosis & do not necessarily ''learn'' otherwise #the vulnerability is pounced on / the ''opportunity'' for abuse in any situation b/c it's Deserved in this case ofc / the like ''we Do #officially label you Autistic & we Do prescribe; even require; abuse about it'' aba / rejection/ostracization / pathology / Inferiority #like what else can you do but go ''maybe ppl will change their minds? maybe i can act a way to convince them to do so?'' But No #ofc all Compounding vulnerabilities only feed into all other systems of dehumanization / vulnerability / abuse / disempowerment #my experience being autistic seemed to support my experience w/family abuse...B/c It 100% Did support it #other disabilities; less resources; more poverty; appearing nonwhite & ''worse'' black; cultural ''difference'' from the norm(tm)....#further layers (often given ''priorities'' like how Race is given 1st Consideration in who's ''beneath'' whom) in dehumanization #which is an ideology people have to Reject to; you know; humanize everyone they encounter. but they don't ''have'' to so: might not!#& obviously playing into it is what's encouraged And demanded so yeah go find the ppl in Your life to scapegoat / deem inferior! to cope!#while this is so entrenched/supported By Everything As Is that it's just ppl ''being normal'' instead of consciously disdainfully violent #so it's Something having to go ok no the double standards never cease the Sympathy (i.e. again taking unilateral Responsibility for other #ppl's feelings (& by extension hopefully their resultant actions)) will never even afford you Being Liked much less the Basic Respect #whether someone happens to personally find you Likable or not in the first place. have to ofc Hope others have other principles about it #which; you know; the logic of Ableism is in all the systems of dehumanization & exploitation. it's Just Biology / Reality....#everyone's so Great abt things now. def don't have ppl like ''haha the lack of social skills am i right autists'' / ''annoyingly nd ppl''#just saying the same shit in an XD arm slung around your shoulder tone now. dont want me saying Idiot this is why i love ableism #(it was bc everyone is already taught to love ableism & leverage it however they can) i wasn't a violent bigot: then the leftists pwned me #anyways consulting Exp. w/Authoritarian Family sure can be a touchstone recognizing resonances anywhere else. dynamics/interactions. govts

1 note · View note

anantaru · 3 months

Text

— cute things they do unintentionally

including wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette, diluc x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, neck kisses, lots of physical affection

— wriothesley + always walks closest to the street

in the early stages of your relationship, wriothesley has shown the first, out of the many following, indications of his overall protective nature towards you— and do not misunderstand him, because obviously he wasn't making it somewhat overbearing.

he knows you are capable of doing things on your own, but he wants to be the one who does them for you instead. it fills him with joy, and the duke finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, indulging in the memories and thoughts and hope that they would never cease to invade his newfound paradise.

so to speak, it's sort of a way to show you his love in a contrasting kind of sense other than telling you his affection through words or physical touch— with his heart-melting gestures and tender warmth, wriothesley will stop to walk for a split second before softly pulling you farthest from the street as he walks closest.

it was silly— and romantic, and there's a drop of silence before you hear him hum in merriment, his eyes sparkling like the stars.

full of feeling, your cheeks were poignant of a flaming prickle, your whole body burned like fire at his touch as you eagerly listen to what story your boyfriend was telling you about, his smile bringing you the most lustrous light when you entangle your fingers into his arm to press his frame against you.

and suddenly, your lips are tingling with the desire to kiss him, his lips as pink as pink delights. what's the sweetest part about it all was that wriothesley wasn't doing any of this intentionally— in fact, it had always come down to the way he has been all of his life, protective and sheltering, benevolent to the people closest to his heart.

— zhongli + kisses your forehead whenever you meet

"hello, my love," zhongli's face lights up the moment he sees you, and it's a lot more personal by how particularly he smiled at you— because before catching your frame in midst the busy streets of liyue, his facial features were stern and a little frozen, although when he finally finds you, he smiles and it takes away his cold instantly, a slow upturn of his mouth revealing small dimples around his sides.

"i missed you," he admits, and zhongli moves closer before capturing your cheeks in his warm palms, planting a subtle kiss on your forehead as he presses you against his chest firmly— his golden eyes bright enough to make even broken glass glow and shimmer like a treasure on its own again.

you mumble out through a chain of muffled words at the slightly tight embrace of your boyfriend, "i missed you too," and listlessly wrap your arms around his waist, "in fact, i missed you more," you tease as he presses dozen of little kisses on your head.

as much as zhongli would love to hug you for what he sought out to be eternity, he knows he cannot remain like this forever, at least not while being crowded by the people of liyue— although pondering about it more deeply, he figured that theoretically speaking, he could be able to hug you from day to night without letting you go, but people might start looking at you both so that'll be a negative and turn things uncomfortable.

"you know it's impossible for you to miss me more?" he slowly pulls you off his chest before pinching your cheek, "i long for you day and night," as his grin shines in tandem with the dancing joy of his eyes, unable to tear their focus away from you.

— neuvillette + can't stop worshipping you

after a long, arduous day consisting of responsibilities, you plopped onto the giant, comfortable bed you shared with neuvillette before you felt the mattress slightly dip under the added weight of his body as he climbs over to lean one arm around your frame.

as he does this, his face instantly burns into the nook of your neck before he begins to caress it— obviously in those moments he was content with you, starting with a handful of soft, warm kisses until he could feel you smile, or notice your body heat raise.

it's pretty clear his senses were sharp, you cannot hide anything from your boyfriend, even if you tried.

you yawn out, opening your arms for his body to properly nestle in before wrapping your limbs around his frame to keep him close, "what did i do to deserve this?" you whisper sarcastically, squeezing him a little tighter into you, "is something the matter?"

neuvillette hums deeply before smothering one hand from your chest to your hips, his lips stretching into a lazy smile, creating a swirling haven on his handsome face, "nothing at all, everything is fine," he assures you with another kiss, his hot breath fanning over the dampened skin on your neck.

basking into the comfortable engage of your arms around his frame, he continues, "i have simply missed what's mine, that is all,"

"and you deserve this," you hear him mumble, "each and every day to be admired and loved,"

he places a kiss on your shoulder, the softness of his lips compelling, "i want to give you this," as he slowly continues to slide his lips over your collarbone, full of passionate crescendos.

your skin trembles and goosebumps arise on your neck as you unwind to his skilled. tender interludes, precisely in neuvillette taking care of you, shooting you a gentle smile before he searches for your lips next.

— diluc + likes to hold your hand all the time

it doesn't matter where the both of you were or what activity you participated in, because for neither diluc nor you this was something out of the ordinary anymore and began to become a necessity— like breathing, he required your touch, and his heart fluttered every time he felt your energy invade his.

your laugh was his favorite sound and your voice was the last tune he needed to hear before he'd close his eyes, always awaiting the flicker of longing in your caress.

but before you have found each other in this relationship, the master of the dawn winery has never considered himself to be an overly touchy individual, in fact, he was everything else but pleased whenever someone would become way too comfortable with him and overstep any boundaries.

what's funny about love is that how fast it can change things in someone— beyond looks, touches or shared smiles, there were feelings that only you two were able to understand.

diluc hadn't realized how easy and effortless it can be the moment you meet your soulmate, it's transparent and pure and you cannot get enough of them, it's useless to even try and you want to feel them again and again, until their warmth swathes through your skin and intertwines like dancers in a ballet.

in the beginning, it had started with quick and easy placements of his palm on your back or around your shoulders, but after a while, diluc wanted to turn it a little more intimate— he didn't say anything or mention it to you, but one day at a silent night in mondstadt, when he looked at you, really looked at you, he held your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles in a silent confession of love and affirmation.

to diluc ragnvindr, the act of falling in love was the acknowledgement that he was in the presence of someone so special that it aches his heart, a journey with unexpected twists and turns— for the first time and in that moment, he knew that you were deserving of love to the fullest, without holding back.

3K notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 3 months

Text

PROMPTS FOR THE GRUMPY VS SUNSHINE TROPE * assorted dialogue for that great dynamic between a guarded character and a warmer character, adjust as necessary

GRUMPY CHARACTER

do you ever stop smiling?

life sucks. get over it.

no one ever listens to me. at least, not until you showed up.

i didn't ask for your opinion.

there are more important things i should be dealing with.

i don't talk about my feelings with anyone.

that was a little uncalled for.

i didn't mean to talk your ear off.

i work better on my own.

what did you say to them to get them to listen?

i don't want to talk to you. in fact, i don't want to talk to anyone.

can you just leave me alone?

i never said i would help you.

you can't just talk your way out of problems.

everything was fine until you showed up.

now if you'll excuse me, i have better things to do.

what's so great about this place, anyway?

my opinion doesn't matter anyway.

i don't have time for "fun."

i just want to get this done and go home.

that's never been up to me to decide.

do you stick your head into everyone's business, or just mine?

if it's all the same to you, i'd prefer to be alone.

no one asked you to get involved.

i don't have a choice. it's my duty.

you're interrupting me again.

can we talk about this another time?

you've been listening to me talk for an hour now.

how do you stay so positive all the time?

i'm perfectly content just the way i am, thank you very much.

can't you see they're taking advantage of you?

SUNSHINE CHARACTER

i wish you would just listen to what i have to say.

i have to try and stay positive. it's the only way we get through this.

nothing good can come from constant negativity.

i believe in myself because no one else will.

i've seen what happens when the bad outweighs the good.

we just have to stay strong.

you never know what someone is going through.

i am capable of more than you give me credit for.

i don't think you're a bad person.

there's so much more to life than this.

you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

have you tried being nice to them?

a compliment goes a long way.

i choose to be kind.

i just don't see the point in staying silent.

i'm just trying to look out for you.

there's no need to be rude.

we could work together as a team. did you ever think about that?

if you need my help, i'm here for you.

you should smile more often.

i wish you would just be yourself.

for what it's worth, i like who you are now.

we don't have to fight all the time.

being soft is not a weakness.

i want to make this work between us.

despite all that, i'm still here for you.

if you ever want to talk, i'm here to listen.

you're not as bad as you make yourself seem.

i've never seen you that way.

i've come to care about you.

1K notes · View notes

kiwi-bitchez · 6 months

Text

Double Down, Triple Threat

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension.

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending.

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics.

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways.

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something."

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order.

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret.

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on.

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that.

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were.

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers.

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar.

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well.

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig.

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him.

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface.

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer.

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him.

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that."

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull.

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt.

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards.

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night.

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot.

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive.

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot.

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something."

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road.

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt.

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong.

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk.

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one.

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood.

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper.

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful.

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door.

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks.

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go."

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step.

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking.

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live."

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies.

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?"

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought.

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat.

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here."

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights.

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought.

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?"

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar.

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward.

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on.

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped.

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close.

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy.

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat.

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.”

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside.

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now.

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane.

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this.

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond.

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that.

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say.

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile.

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago.

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips.

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window.

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form.

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much.

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue.

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner.

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise.

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be.

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.”

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath.

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch.

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief.

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow.

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind.

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there.

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing.

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights.

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow.

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.”

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel.

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale.

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request.

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut.

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes.

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did.

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it.

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off.

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.”

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances.

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over.

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were.

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…”

He understood, he hated how much he understood.

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him.

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run.

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat.

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive.

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt.

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails.

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers.

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed.

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point.

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction.

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale.

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot.

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice.

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip.

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction.

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?”

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill.

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away.

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands.

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom.

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on.

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself.

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark.

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked.

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you.

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious.

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present.

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed.

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream.

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go.

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around.

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin.

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways?

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away.

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back.

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel.

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging.

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.”

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up.

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.”

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most.

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs.

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way.

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you.

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time.

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?”

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him.

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand.

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary.

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else.

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes.

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch.

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top?

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching.

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment.

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point.

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end.

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold.

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean.

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two.

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his.

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could.

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen.

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong.

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep.

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you.

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months.

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control.

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed.

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze.

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue.

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true.

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper.

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment.

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall.

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl.

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time.

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over.

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was.

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear.

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.”

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this.

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.”

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips.

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you.

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom.

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips.

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom.

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets.

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you.

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed.

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away.

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself.

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect.

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck.

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.”

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body.

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long.

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs.

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up.

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks.

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.”

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away.

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.”

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit.

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred.

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.”

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask.

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest.

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip.

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle.

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?”

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you.

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning.

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone.

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest.

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit.

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand.

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time.

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment.

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare.

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening.

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more.

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more.

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time.

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go.

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you.

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time.

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state.

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you.

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you.

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could.

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all.

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now.

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter.

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue.

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you.

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you.

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts.

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future.

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page.

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock.

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips.

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake.

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his.

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours.

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses.

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.”

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center.

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you.

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name.

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release.

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements.

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm.

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name.

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van.

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets.

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss.

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all.

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice.

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come.

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

sunflower-lilac42 · 28 days

Text

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞 || luke hughes ♔

summary: when she gets cold on the boat, luke gives her his hoodie and all the emotions come out.

warnings: reader feeling crappy about herself, negative thoughts

publish date: 03/31/24

notes: this is for my plus-sized girlies coming from a plus-sized girlie. i am here for you and i will give you as much content as you would like. this really healed my inner child fr, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i had writing it. i love you and give me three-eight business months for a next fic | add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

A lot of the time it felt like that was the only feature people noticed about her. Not that she was funny, or smart, or insanely good at making a spreadsheet for anything and everything. It was the fact that she was fat, or excuse people’s language, curvy. It had been what labeled her for her whole life it seemed like. And no matter how hard she tried to stop it from happening, it never did.

She heard the whispers every time she was in the hallways in high school, every time she sat down and the chair would creek even the slightest bit, every time she’d accidentally brush someone’s shoulder. It was horrible, something that would haunt her for years to come no matter what happened.

When she went off to college, her voice was the only one that stayed with her. She met Luke through mutual friends and while she loved their relationship, she always thought it put a damper on her mind especially when she realized she liked him. Luke was Luke, he was tall, handsome, adorable, cute, charming, and all of the above. And on the inside, he was funny, smart, kind, nice, everything a girl could ever love. He made it impossible not to fall for him.

But why would Luke want her, when he could have anyone he ever wanted? This put a strain on their friendship during sophomore year especially. She would go to games, supporting the hell out of him because he asked her to be there. And always somewhere further down the row, in a different section, wherever, there was a group of girls who looked nothing like her. They were skinny, and pretty, they wore outfits that looked not only good on them but just good in general.

They were standing there, looking like that, while she looked like this. Wearing leggings that were too tight to make her look thinner, they pressed too hard on her stomach. Wearing the largest sweatshirt in her closet to hide the way her hips bulge a little, to hide everything if she was honest. And while she knew it shouldn’t have bothered her, that she shouldn’t have been mad at them, she couldn’t help it.

However, when she was around him and it was just the two of them, she couldn’t help but notice the thoughts dissipate. There was something about him that made her forget what she was thinking, forget what she was feeling besides happiness. He made her feel beautiful even if he didn’t know it.

But, when he went away to New Jersey, there was no one to block out those thoughts anymore. Every day she thought negative things about herself, and compared herself to her friends, to those she passed on the way to class, those in the dining hall, everyone. She was left feeling alone with her thoughts, which made her feel all the worse.

In the weeks following her last day of class, she got a text from Luke. He had asked her to go to the lake house in Michigan. She wasn’t expecting it, to say the least. It meant that she would have to spend at least a week around Luke and his brothers and their friends in shorts and shirts. The things that made her uncomfortable when she was alone.

She reluctantly agreed to his invitation and the only reason she did agree was because she knew Luke wouldn’t stop texting her and calling her until she said yes. She didn’t like summer, it meant that she couldn’t resort to her long sleeves and leggings due to the temperature. It was too hot for that. At least when she was at her own house, it wasn’t bad, she could do that and wouldn’t be hot due to her being able to set the house to a cooler temperature.

But, Luke was Luke, and it was hard to ignore him. They hadn’t seen each other since he left for New Jersey, keeping up only through texts and FaceTime (which was not her favorite thing in the world). So, when that text came through that she had said yes to coming, he was bouncing off the walls for hours. He had run to tell Jack and Quinn, immediately, yelling at them to get a room set up for her and to make Trevor and Cole or whoever share one.

It was rare that Luke got excited to see someone besides his brothers and his closest friends, so when Quinn and Jack heard him rambling a million miles an hour, they knew that this “friend” was special. Luke picked her up from the airport, having flown in from her home state. He was quick to bring her bags to the car for her, open up the passenger side door, and everything in between.

When he saw what she was wearing, he curled an eyebrow, “Aren’t you hot?”

“W-what? No.”

“Y/n/n, you’re wearing a literal sheep right now and it’s like 80 degrees.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m quite comfy.”

“Whatever you say.” He muttered but he made sure to turn the AC on full blast so she wouldn’t overheat more than she already was.

Y/n was trying to prolong the time she would have to be around Luke, and his brothers and their friends, in shorts and t-shirts and tank tops. And while she knew it was going to have to happen soon, it didn’t mean that it had to happen now. She was beyond grateful that Luke turned the AC on, it was a blessing in disguise.

When they pulled up to the house, he wasted no time in doing the same things he did at the airport; grabbing her luggage, opening her door, and leading her up the steps. He opened the door with his elbow and pushed it open with his back, or well more or less his butt. Y/n giggled at the action and stepped inside after him, looking around in disbelief, “Can’t believe you get to spend every summer here.”

“Yeah, kind of lucky to have two-”

“Heads up!”

The two turned to see Jack hurling a football in their direction and Luke dropped her things to catch it. Due to Luke’s reaction time, he spared his best friend from getting hit in the face, “Dude!”

Y/n stood in shock, blinking even as Luke’s hand was taken away from her face. Jack winced, “Sorry.”

Luke threw it back at him and hit him square in the head, “Well, that’s Jack, which means…”

As he trailed off two more voices and two pairs of footsteps came from the hallway, “Cole and Trevor aren’t too far behind him. Blonde one is Cole, the douchey looking one is Trevor.”

“Douchey?”

She stood there in the entranceway, raising a hand as if to say hi. Trevor and Cole walked in and took her bags for her, “M’lady.”

She giggled again as she watched the two bumble around the house like idiots, all while Luke’s face heated up in embarrassment. When she looked at him she threaded her arm around his waist, “Don’t worry. I have my bunch of idiots back home. They don’t compare honestly.”

Luke’s arm wrapped around her shoulders in habit, slightly tightening as a way to ground himself. He looked over at her to see her still watching the three 22-year-olds, who were now dancing around the living room playing Just Dance. His eyes were filled with fondness, he couldn’t remember the last time or if there was ever a time he felt like this about someone.

“You must be y/n! I’m Quinn, Luke’s oldest brother.”

Y/n smiled at him and Luke swore he could’ve died right there, “Nice to meet you, Quinn. Oh! I saw your guys’ last few games of the season, you guys played well.”

Quinn’s cheeks flushed, “Oh, thanks. Well, listen, your room is right next to Luke’s if you need anything. Anything in the kitchen you are more than welcome to have, we do have some things that if you want to cook you can. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway and the campfire is out back. I won’t tell, but I’m fine if you drink, just don’t do it outside the property or when our parents get here.”

She nods, trying to keep up with all the information he is spitting at her. He walked away and let the two be on their own, going back to his room. Luke picked back up her things and led her into the hallway and to her room. He placed her bags on the foot of the bed and looked back at her, “Well, I’ll let you get settled. I think we’re going out on the boat tonight.”

She didn’t think it would be this soon that she would have to wear them. Luke could see the panic that showed in her eyes for a brief moment, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm just not a huge fan of the water.”

“Oh, that’s okay! You don’t have to go in it if you don’t want to.”

That sent some relief through her body, “Okay.”

“I’ll come back when we’re ready to go, okay?”

She nods and watches as he leaves, worried about what was to come.

✧༺✎༻∞

Two hours later, Luke came back into her room. He knocked before coming in, of course, looking down, “Hey we’re just about- holy shit.”

Y/n stood there in her ripped jean shorts that didn’t come down fully because she had gotten them last year, her oversized UMich hockey shirt that was beginning to fade from the number of times she’d put it through the wash. Her hair was in two braids with her UMich baseball hat on and her makeup was done in the slightest bit. She was wearing a pair of gym shoes, her trusted ones that she’s had since she started college. When she heard Luke’s voice and then it cut off, she shied away, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just look-”

Here it comes. The fat jokes, the “you should get clothes that actually fit you” monologue, the snide remarks about her working out, and everything in between. But what hurt more, was that it was going to come from Luke, her best friend, her crush, her seemingly everything. The one who made her forget about those things.

“Really pretty.”

Her head snapped up and her eyes opened wide, “I- what?”

Luke’s face flushed, “You look pretty. Um, we’re getting ready to go! You ready?”

“Oh, uh yeah.”

“Did he really just call me pretty?” Her thoughts ran a thousand miles an hour as she grabbed her bag from the bed and followed Luke. There was no way he said that, was she imagining things? What had she eaten for lunch?

Luke helped her onto the boat, holding her hand as she stepped up. She sat down and immediately pulled out her computer, connecting it to her portable hotspot. The boys watched her both in confusion and in awe, but Jack was the only one to speak up, “Why are you on your laptop? Dude, you’re gonna get it wet.”

“I just have to do something quick.”

Jack watched from beside her as she pulled up her spreadsheets and started typing information in it, “Holy shit,”

That was the second one of the day, and both of them had been directed at her, “What now?”

“Dude, these are insane.”

He stole the laptop and started scrolling. Now she felt ten times more embarrassed than she was before, “It’s nothing.”

Luke was the next to steal the computer, sitting in awe at the payrolls among other stuff she created, “Damn girl. How much free time do you have?”

She toyed with the ends of her shorts, starting to fray, “A lot.”

She was glad once they moved on from the topic and she was able to shove her computer back in her bag after updating a few things. She watched as the boys went out on the water, Luke staying with her, claiming that he didn’t want to go in the water either. However, as time went on it got colder and colder, yet none of them wanted to go back.

It was now nighttime and y/n was cold from the drastic temperature change. Luke watched as she shivered and instantly took off his sweatshirt and handed it to her, “Here.”

Her eyes looked between him and his hoodie before shaking her head, “I’m okay.”

His eyes softened, growing increasingly worried and confused, “Y/n/n you have goosebumps all along your arms. You’re not ‘okay’.”

“No, I promise. I’m okay.”

“Please.”

She hesitantly took it and unfolded it to hold it up and look at the size. This had always been a worry for her, fitting into other people’s clothes especially when it came to boys. Sure they were ‘bigger’ than her, height was and all, but was that enough to counteract? She nervously put her arms through it, being careful not to stretch it out. She pulled it over her head and was pleasantly surprised when it fit a little baggy on her.

However, her mind clouded with negative thoughts and it started yelling at her that she was the one that stretched it out, that that was the reason why it was baggy. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

She tugged slightly on the hoodie, feeling it start to cling to her impossibly tight. It wasn’t the hoodie, it was her mind making her think that it was smaller than it was. She tried to get out of Luke’s gaze but it was no use. She cursed to herself before looking out at the water, watching the boys splash each other like immature 10-year-olds, “I’ve never been the skinniest girl out there, Luke.”

Her words caused him to frown. ‘Is that seriously what she’s worried about?’ He brought his right hand up to her face, placing her chin in between his index finger and his thumb. He turned her head so her eyes had no choice but to look at him, “You listen to me. You are beautiful, okay? You are the prettiest girl I have ever laid eyes on.”

She moved her head away from his grasp and wrapped her arms in front of her stomach. Luke was determined to convince her that he wanted her. That she was the only one for him, so despite her worries and insecurities, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. She yelped in surprise and as soon as her butt touched his legs and squirmed, “Let me go, Luke.”

“No.” His voice was stern as he spoke.

“Please, Lu.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t think I can. Not when you are talking about yourself like this, out loud or in that beautiful head of yours. Listen, y/n/n, I know it’s hard, believe me. And while I might not know exactly what you’re going through, I have had my fair share of insecurities myself. You are gorgeous and I love every single part of you there is, okay? I cannot tell you one moment that I have seen you look ugly.”

Completely brushing over the fact that he said ‘I love’, she continued trying to prove him wrong, “What about that-”

“Nope! Doesn’t exist. And I’m going to tell you that if you do not come to at least one game of mine next season, wearing my jersey I might lose it.”

Luke’s words had her blushing in an instant but her mind did not want happiness to be a thing tonight. Her thoughts of this being a prank clouded the intense blissfulness she felt for a few seconds, “Why?”

“Why what, sweet girl?”

The nickname passed over her, “Me. Why me?”

“I’m going to tell you my favorite moment of you and then we’ll see if you know why,” He removed one of his arms from her waist to wrap his fingers around the back of her neck and rub his thumb against her cheek before continuing, “Freshman year. First game you ever went to. I had just bought you a jersey and wrote on the back of it with a sharpie my name and my number. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, obviously because that’s you, but it made sure everyone knew you were supporting me. You wore it with those jeans that I like, the ones with the rhinestones bordering the pockets, and you wore these gym shoes, the ones you’re wearing right now. You had your hair in two ponytails and this hat,” He flicked the brim of it, “and you brought two of your other friends for whom the life of me I cannot remember.

“But you stood for the whole game with this little pompom thing in your hand, cheering every time someone got a goal and booing every time whoever we were playing got one. And then after the game I met you outside and then we went to go get ice cream and you got vanilla with sprinkles and we tasted each other’s because I kept looking over at yours and you finally gave in. And then I took you back to your dorm and you stole my beanie. Which you didn’t give back for another two weeks.”

Her eyes watered as she listened to him, “Y/n/n. Don’t cry, please.”

She shook her head, “I’m not, I promise.”

“No matter how long it takes, what it takes, I am going to prove to you that you are beautiful no matter what anyone says. And as long as you love yourself, that’s all that matters. But you’ll always have my love, okay?”

“You love me?”

“Of course I do! I know we’re in college, or well, you are, and we haven’t really dated, but when you know you know.”

She smiled at him and closed her eyes when his lips made contact with her forehead, and then her cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded and leaned in to meet him halfway. Once their lips connected they heard ‘whoops’ from the water. They pulled away, both red in the face. And as they drove back, y/n sat next to Luke with her head on his shoulder and his hand resting comfortably on her thigh.

𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑱𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝒀 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #luke hughes #lh43 #nhl #hockey #luke hughes x reader #nj devils

437 notes · View notes

seichira · 11 months

Text

is it just me?

itoshi rin is tormented by the lingering ghosts of your tragic breakup. he is cold and he lives with the burden of missing you. he wonders if you are hurting too, or is it just him?

pairing : itoshi rin x reader

content : hurt and comfort. exes to lovers. messy breakup. accusations of cheating (no actual cheating). insecurities. mentions of alcohol. cursing.

it’s one in the morning and rin is surrounded by his friends and acquaintances but still, he feels cold. even with the alcohol in his system that he drank to purposely warm him, it’s cold.

it has been this way for nearly a year now. eleven months and a couple weeks, if anyone is counting. a few days more and it would be the anniversary of your breakup.

the nearer it gets to twelve months without you, the colder it gets. right now, even with the perfectly working heater in one of his teammate’s penthouse, rin shivers.

it’s cold.

he never thought it could be this cold.

rin knows why he feels like this. he knows exactly why he wakes up and goes to bed alone. the reason why his life is dull and empty is not a secret to him—he just won’t acknowledge it.

he refuses to admit to himself that the reason why he has been suffering for the past eleven months of his life is because you’re not here.

how could he admit it? how could he ever address that your absence it what causes his pitiful state, when he brought it upon himself.

it was his fault that you’re not here. he wanted this. well, he had thought that he wanted this.

there is no way he could welcome the thought that he misses you when he was the one who drove you away, right? there is no use.

it’s too late now. all he could do is go out with his teammates on nights like this and pretend as if he wasn’t freezing from the inside out.

“damn, this is so boring,” seishiro sits down beside him on the sofa and rin tenses at the presence of the white-haired boy.

he does not know what to do because among everyone else in this crowded room, you are most connected to nagi seishiro. your best friend. and he has long been your best friend before you and rin even got together.

how is rin supposed to act around the person who is still in your life while he himself isn’t? this man seated next to him knows where you are right now and what you have been doing, while rin has absolutely no idea how you are.

“didn’t think i’d see you here, itoshi,” nagi speaks again. rin hums in acknowledgment, “thought it wouldn’t be so bad to come.”

there is this unspoken understanding between them, that both of them are thinking about you. after all, aside from soccer, all they have in common is their connection to you.

nagi debates whether he should tell you that he saw rin tonight or keep it to himself so as to not instigate negative feelings from you.

rin wonders if he should start asking about you. he decides against it and pretended to busy himself with his cellphone to avoid further conversation with your best friend.

he convinces himself that he does not care. he acts like he doesn’t want to know how you are. he tries to make himself believe that as long as he can fake it, it will somehow be true.

jokes on him, really.

meguru approaches nagi next to him and rin is planning to ignore him like he usually does, but the words that comes out of meguru’s mouth made that utterly impossible.

“nagi! i saw y/n by the bookstore earlier this afternoon, didn’t you ask her to come? i invited her but she said you didn’t mention anythin’ about a party!”

the mere mention of your name makes rin’s heart stop. it has been a very long time since he heard someone mention your name casually around him. now that your name has been dropped, everything comes crashing down on him, and he cannot breathe.

“oh, damn, i’m sorry—“ bachira seems to notice his mistake upon not seeing rin next to nagi. they know not to carelessly throw your name around because at first, it affected his performance. now, it is apparent that you affect him in and out of the game.

“excuse me.”

rin is cold. it’s like ice is running through his veins as he stands up and rushes to leave the suffocating penthouse.

rin runs out to the street and for the first time since he lost you, he names the sinking feeling in his stomach that won’t go away.

for the first time since you walked out the door of your shared apartment, rin finally admits it.

he misses you.

he is longing for you like how the moon misses the sun but never meets it enough. it burns and it is freezing all at the same time because when you were here, he felt nothing but the assurance of your love.

he runs, and runs, and runs. it’s dark and it’s cold, but he runs. he runs in hopes that he could change the past. he runs with the burning desire to correct his faults and take back all the hurt he inflicted on you.

maybe then, you’d be here.

maybe then, it wouldn’t be so cold.

“are you seriously accusing me of that, rin? are you hearing yourself right now?” the hurt was evident in your tone as you watched the love of your life with all of his guards up.

his glares were accusing as if what he saw was an unforgivable betrayal. he had seen you talking to his brother, sae, and rin was quick to act out of pure rage and jealousy.

“you were flirting with my fucking brother!” he spat out, and he knew it was irrational.

he knew he was wrong about and that you would never be able to do that to him, but his years of pent up frustration and hatred towards his brother made it impossible to remember his trust in you.

“and i already told you i wasn’t, rin. i was talking to him. i bumped into him at the coffee shop while i was getting your usual morning drink when he saw me and i sat down for a little chat! that was all, baby. believe me.”

you deserved an award with how well you held up, with how patient you were with him despite his hurtful accusations towards you.

no one else understood him like you did, and you knew to be more patient with him in times like these. you were aware of how his brother affected him and how he just needed someone to stick with him through it.

“well, fuck that! you shouldn’t have been with him in the first place! sae wants everything that i have and now, he’s tryna get you too!”

it almost made you flinch, with his tone rising and his voice getting louder. he is furious, and you try to disregard the sting of his words now that his fury is directed at you.

“i’m sorry, alright? it wasn’t my intention to hurt you, rin. he’s your brother and i thought it would be nice to ask him how he is and—“

rin cut you off like he couldn’t comprehend a word that you were saying. “that’s bullshit and you know it! just fuckin’ tell me the truth! that like everyone and everything else, you’re gonna leave me for him!”

it frustrated you that he blocked all your explanations out. you were growing weary with the accusations thrown at you, but you continued. you continued to reason with him because you knew him. you knew he needed someone to stay. and above all, you tried further because you were in love with him.

you loved rin three years before you finally got together. your two years together made that five. that was five years of your life being deeply in love with someone whom you thought was going to be your husband and the father of your kids.

that amount of time may not be much when viewed through the generations of people who loved each other, but for the both of you, those five years were enough to build a life and create an ideal future with the other.

so, yeah. it never occurred to you to give up in that argument. there was no chance in hell that you would leave him high and dry.

“it’s not like that, rin. i am never going to leave you for anyone, much less for your brother! i need you to listen to me! we talked! that’s it!”

“you’re lying to me. i know it.”

you shake your head in exhaustion. “i talk, and i talk, and i talk—and you don’t hear a thing.” a lone tear falls from your eye without realizing.

his sharp stare does not falter. all he could see was red. the scene of you and sae together replayed over and over again in his mind.

you, the person he loved most, with the person who took everything away from him. it killed him to imagine a future where it is not you and him, but you and sae.

“i’m in love with you. only you. i cannot see myself with anyone else and i thought you knew that, rin. i get that your brother strikes a vein in you but don’t i at least deserve to be heard? we’re better than this.”

“yeah? and i thought you’d be better than acquainting with sae like that. you knew how i felt about him, and you did this? fuck that.”

rin walked out on you that night without another word. it felt like he also walked out on your relationship because he started training more. this meant leaving before you even woke up and going home when you were fast asleep.

during those weeks when rin avoided you like the plague despite living under one roof, you felt completely alone and isolated. you were lonely. he spoke to you in words, and he treated you as if your encounter with sae was enough for him to give it all up.

until one day, he comes home to a living room full of bags and boxes. you were there, waiting for him with a tired smile on your face.

for the first time, rin realized that the black circles under your eyes have grown where they weren’t before. he noticed that you are all cried out and now, you’ve got no tears to shed as you leave him.

“w-what’s all this?”

“i’m leaving. i’m sorry for not getting out of your hair faster. it was really hard to look for another apartment that was within my budget but don’t worry, i figured it out.”

“leaving? leaving me? leaving… this house?” which one is it? or fuck, is it both?

“mhm. i f-figured it’s not healthy for us to live under the same roof after everything. i wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own space just because i’m here, so…”

did you really think he wanted you to leave? he wanted to explain. he wanted to tell you that he only acted that way because he was hurt and he was guilty! you don’t have to leave!

but he’s frozen from where he stood. the sight of all your stuff packed up and ready to go was a little bit too much for him.

you stood from where you were seated among the bags and boxes, and you stop in front of him. again, you smile gracefully, in contrast to the breaking heart that almost killed you.

“and rin? i’m sorry again for what happened with sae. i should’ve known better than to do that to you, and i understand that you don’t want to do anything with me because of that.”

he shook his head but you missed it because you walked past him with some of your bags in your hand. “y/n, no. i—“

you hear it and for a moment, you delude yourself into thinking that he will ask you to stay. but he doesn’t continue.

he stops because how could he ask you to stay after how he treated you? it was his fault for not listening and in the end, it was you who apologized? in what fucking universe do i deserve this angel, huh?

he doesn’t stop you from leaving because in that very moment, the thought of you finally escaping from him and his hurtful treatment towards you didn’t seem so bad.

“so, i guess… i’ll see you around. nagi will be around to grab my remaining stuff, so try not to kill each other, yeah?” you try to play it off cool, mask the fact that inside, everything is falling apart.

rin nods but he stayed with his back facing you. until the end, he did not have the guts to face you. to face what he had done to you and your relationship.

suddenly, everything grew cold. everything lost their color. the empty corners of where your warmth used to be mocked him.

for nearly a year since then, he has lived and suffered with the mistakes he did. he didn’t know what to tell people when they started asking about you. he didn’t know how to ride the train without holding your hand. he didn’t know how to be soaked in the shower without letting his tears flow freely.

he wondered endlessly as he daydreamed of speaking to you again: are you hurting too, or is it just me?

his endless running brings him to your street where you moved when you left him. his feet takes him farther than he expected because this street is on the opposite part of town from your shared apartment, a telltale sign that you tried to get as far away as possible.

evidently, it is not far enough because on your way home from the convenience store, you run into your ex-boyfriend. rin is first to notice your presence, and instead of freezing up like he did when you left, he walks up to you.

“rin?” you are confused and nervous. after all, the last time you had seen him was almost a year ago. you never tried to see him again.

“it hurts.”

the two words he just confessed are two words that he has never said together in a sentence ever in his life. itoshi rin never admits it when something is hurting him. he never tells anyone when he is in pain.

for him to say that now, it is a cry for you to soothe him in a way that only you could, and you know this because you know him better than the back of your hand.

standing a meter away from you underneath a street lamp, itoshi rin confesses his truth.

“it hurts, y/n. it hurts without you. it feels like i can’t breathe. it is so cold without you. it hurts so badly. i thought i could live with it eventually—but i can’t. it only gets worse.”

rin sees your shoulders shake in your attempt to conceal your sobs but you are failing miserably, and so does he. you don’t say anything and rin figures that’s fair.

you already tried to talk. you already told him everything you needed to hear on the night of the fight that ruined your relationship. it’s his turn to tell you everything you deserve to hear.

but he isn’t as good as you when it comes to words. he thinks about how he accused you of cheating on him. he thinks about how he shut you out and left you feeling lonely. he thinks about every day that he could have chased after you but didn’t. he thinks about all of that and he thinks about how he’s sorry.

and he manages to get that last part out, hoping that you would get it. hoping that the deep-rooted connection between the two of you is enough to let you know what he means.

“i’m sorry.”

you drop your groceries to the ground and you close the meter of distance between the two of you. you welcome him in his arms but he wraps his arms around you tighter than you welcomed him, because he is afraid that if he doesn’t, he will lose you again.

“that is all i needed to hear from you, rin. i never wanted much from you. just you and your love. i just needed to know that you still felt that for me, and when i didn’t… i had no other choice to walk away.”

rin nods against your neck and you feel his tears staining your shoulder. “i’m sorry. forgive me, please. i love you. i love you. and i trust you. more than anyone, baby. i promise.”

“you know i could never hurt you like you thought i did—“ you recalled, but rin cuts you off because he can’t bear another second of you defending yourself when you shouldn’t be.

“i know. i know.”

his embrace around you tightens, and he does not care if anyone could look out from their windows and see the soccer star practically begging for you in the middle of the night. not when he is in your arms again after months of only dreaming about it and wishing for it.

“it hurt too much without you too, rin. i had to remind myself that i can’t run to you for warmth. i took everything in me not to throw away my dignity to beg you to bring me back.”

that answers his question.

in his absence, you were hurting too. your separation killed you just like how it killed him.

“no. no—don’t have to beg for it, baby. i should be on my knees to thank you for even taking me back like this because—shit—i swear that i wouldn’t have lasted another day.”

you run your hands through his hair before briefly pulling away to cup his cheek in your hands, and he fondly leans on your touch.

“for the entire year, i thought it was just me who longed for you, rin.”

you couldn’t be any more wrong.

“i begged the stars and the skies for this very moment. it wasn’t just you.”

#⏳ — lumi’s fics!#is it really seichira if it’s not angst #it’s a signature at this point #blue lock #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock fics #bllk #bllk fics #blue lock fluff #blue lock angst #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin fics #itoshi rin angst #itoshi rin fluff

3K notes · View notes

lost-and-ephemeral · 2 months

Text

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup

A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Rafayel

You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.

It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.

The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.

And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.

"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Yes, a lot of things were wrong.

But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.

You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.

When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.

Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.

You became strangers to each other.

"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."

"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.

"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."

He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.

"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."

No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.

Zayne

Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.

But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.

After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.

Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".

It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.

At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?

But it only got worse.

All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.

Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.

Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.

At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.

He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.

And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.

"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."

Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.

"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."

You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.

Xavier

Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.

But now it wasn't actually true.

Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.

During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.

You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.

One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.

Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.

You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.

You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.

And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."

He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.

He wasn't even home the day you left.

Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.

Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.

"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."

You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.

♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

526 notes · View notes

gatitties · 5 months

Text

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: you just keep adding lunatics to the list like they're pokemon and you lose patience

─Warnings: mahito (he's a warning himself yeh) blood, death, a little anxiety attack, toxic behaviors, obsession, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Three / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One

I'm done downloading my inspiration on this for now, I feel like this is a little longer, sorryyy 😶

YOU WERE too quick to accept that these sorcerers would do whatever they wanted with you, but in a way, starting a verbal fight to refuse to do certain quests would cause you more problems than solutions, so you were just like a body empty of soul moving back and forth, simply waiting for the next order to complete it as quickly as possible.

The worst thing of all was that it wasn't annoying, at least, not the fact of taking orders, you liked it, you didn't have to think too much, just do this and that, you definitely started to think that all those tests of 'are you a leader or a follower' made sense all those times that your result was being a follower, you wanted an easy life and being a leader of anything is a complete stress that you were not going to go through.

So your simplistic and conformist personality only made it easier for all those sorcerers to mold you to their liking, this does not mean that whenever they asked to spend time with you or simply be attached to you you accepted, they would always have a negative response at first, however if they continued insisting, as may be the case with Itadori and Nobara, you would agree to do what they wanted, because accepting is easier than declining. Megumi and Gojo weren't as persistent in asking for small favors or bonding time, which you appreciated.

"I was looking for you, Maki and I are going to go downtown to look for some cursed weapons, do you want to come?"

Nobara, getting into the bad habit of not knocking on your door and entering without permission, throw herself at your bed grabbing your hand to beg you to go out with her and Maki, knowing that you would refuse she started whining about how you hadn't left your room lately and that she had been very busy with the missions. With no other option you accepted, hoping to be able to get back to what you were doing later in the night.

You thanked the heavens that Maki Zenin was skeptical about your stay at the Jujutsu school, since you did not show any interest in developing cursed techniques or improving physical abilities, she thought that you were not important enough, a shame that Nobara had to drag you with her long enough for Maki to end up getting attached to you, you barely talked to her but for some reason she ended up liking you.

"Come on, we don't have all afternoon."

Maki began to walk waiting for you both to follow her steps, a couple of minutes later the two of them began a light idle chat while you followed behind, only with one of your headphones on in case they spoke to you at some point.

"Be careful, you should stop looking at your phone and look at your surroundings, you are so careless."

The girl with glasses grabbed the back of the collar of your uniform to stop you just before you crossed a red zebra crossing for pedestrians, you watched for a moment as the cars sped by just a few centimeters from you with blank eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

You shrugged, putting away your phone like a scolded child, Nobara took the liberty of grabbing your hand to guide you the rest of the way, at least you could walk looking absent-mindedly at anything that caught your attention without worrying about tripping.

Disinterested and bored once they started negotiating about the cursed weapons, you decided that you could go out for a few minutes without anyone noticing to the bakery you had seen around the corner, you felt like something sweet, you were going to buy something sweet and no one will stop you. Unfortunately before you could get out of the alley, because of course, a shop like that wasn't going to be visible to everyone, once again a curse clung to you desperately to be forgiven.

"Not now please."

You took a couple of minutes to release the cursed energy of that curse, feeling your eyelids heavier and your body more relaxed, of course your ability had cons, after all what you were doing was consuming cursed energy, your way of releasing it were resting, which led you to sometimes fall asleep even standing up due to exhaustion.

Your slight drowsiness disappeared when you heard the sewer besides you sliding with a squeak, a strange mass began to come out until it formed a guy who looked like a sewn doll, his bicolor eyes looked into your soul.

"That was very interesting, where is that curse? Did you absorb it? Did you kill it?"

Your parents had taught you that you shouldn't talk to strangers, especially if they seemed like lunatics who could deform and come out of random sewers, and like a good mom and dad's girl, you looked away, backing away to exit through the other side of the alley, but he managed to grab your wrist so you wouldn't run away.

"It's rude to ignore someone when they speak, you know?"

You frowned looking at his hand on you, remaining silent, you let out an inaudible sigh, you always had to end up in this type of situation, tangled with people ─in this case curses─ that trapped you without wanting to let go.

"I sent it to rot in hell, its soul will remain suffering until eternity, remembering and regretting all the evils it has caused, it will be subjected to the worst tortures imaginable."

He remained silent before bursting into laughter, you had said all that so seriously, with that grim face that he almost believed it, you hoped that trying to 'scare' him would work, but this curse had at least a couple more neurons than the ones you used to meet.

"Aren't you funny? It's a shame I have to kill you, I thought we could be friends but you're-"

The ground began to shake, almost losing your balance, you took advantage of the sudden distraction to free yourself from Mahito's grip, approaching the nearest wall so as not to fall due to the tremors, the sewer flew away and you could see how the curse paled, transforming again to escape.

"How many hours have I lost in this chase?"

A new voice came out of nowhere, turning around you saw a blonde man with glasses, he was wearing a uniform and had a blood stained weapon in one of his hands, you looked at each other in silence until he spoke again.

"A student… hey, have you seen that curse? Where did he flee?"

Figuring he was trustworthy enough since he seemed to recognize the Jujutsu high, you silently pointed in the direction Mahito left, earning a nod from him to leave you there alone again. As if that weren't enough, before you could leave the alley to get some sweet, you ran into another curse, this one looked like a volcano with only one eye, it was petting a stray cat while muttering things like 'you're a good boy' in a squeaky voice, you were going to turn around to make this less awkward but your bones had to make that weird sound sometimes when you walk.

His one eye widened at the sight of you, a small rash erupting from his head and he shot up at the speed of light.

"I'll pretend I haven't seen anything if you pretend you haven't seen me."

You decided to reach a mutual agreement because you heard Nobara shout your name, surely they had finished their purchase or had been alerted by the noise earlier, and if they found you now they would surely distract you enough that you wouldn't be able to buy your candy. You took enough time to complete your little mission, as just as you left the bakery you were approached by the red-haired girl who hugged you like a whimpering koala.

"You can't disappear like that out of nowhere! We heard a shaking and thought something bad had happened to you."

She rubbed her cheek against your shoulder, you murmured apologies while still savoring your sweet, Maki remained silent watching the interaction, carefully searching for any kind of scratch or wound on your body, she sighed in relief when she saw that you didn't seem to have anything.

"We have already spent a lot of time here, we should go back, Toge and Panda are waiting for us for our training."

The encounter with these two curses, Mahito and Jogo, was only a small trigger that led you to strangely meet them more times later, you were never close of course, but your eyes always seemed to meet the multicolored or the single eye of those guys in some bustling part of the city, you knew they had some plan with Itadori, but it's not like you could do anything, you just alerted Gojo and he thanked you with a few pats on the head for the information.

On the other hand, you became a recurring conversation on the side of the villains, for one reason or another, everyone got to know you, either because Mahito was talking about you or because you had an encounter with Geto or Choso, not knowing them, you felt strange when you exchanged glances with them because you felt the same as when you first met the trio of sorceres, they already knew you before you knew anything about them.

Their curiosity about you was only based on overprotectiveness and how obsessed the sorcerers were with you, you seemed to be an important person, was it because of your power? Was it because of your cursed technique? It was something they wanted to find out and anyway if it was nothing like that, they could always use you as a wild card to blackmail them.

You decided to ignore their presence while you worked on your assignments, assignments in which you got to know that blonde guy, Nanami, he was assigned with you for a couple of missions and at first he felt quite irritated by your carefree behavior and even annoyed by your lack of interest in the work, but he couldn't blame you, in his eyes, like Itadori, you were just a teenager who shouldn't be doing this kind of work. He proposed to himself that no student was going to die under his care, especially someone who was never in favor of being part of the cursed world.

You just kept adding people who were worried or interested in you to the list, and you thought that there was no one else who could feel that way, that you could finally breathe easy, that you could stop moving through that web that kept you captive, that you could snuggling in your sheets protecting yourself from the cold while you hugged a pillow and slept carefree.

And… out of nowhere you wake up with a wet cheek, an eternal sea of blood where you could float, in the distance a temple made up of different animal and human bones. Your eyes became slightly watery, your only moment of rest ruined by whatever was happening, you were upset, furious, maybe it was the first time since you left home you felt an emotion this strong and vivid.

"This has to be a fucking joke…"

You mumble walking towards the temple hoping to find some kind of answer to get out of there, you wanted your hours of sleep back, you wanted to disconnect your brain from reality and travel to your dreams seeking solace outside of this world, not to be trapped in this stupid place.

"This is unusual, how did you manage to get here, brat?"

You rubbed your face furiously, of course you had heard about Sukuna, how Itadori swallowed a fucking finger, but luckily you didn't have any encounter with the king of curses, until now. Again it seemed like he already knew you, but how could he not? You occupied more than half of Itadori's thoughts.

"That's what I would like to know, is this your domain? Get me out of here."

"I can't."

You couldn't contain the irritated grimace you made, this time your expressionlessness broke as well as your patience, a small twitch appeared in your eye and you began to breathe harder, you rubbed your head too hard, perhaps tearing out a few strands in the process, but you didn't care, you exploded after putting up with so much shit.

"Tell me it's a joke, you're the king of curses, not the king of comedians, get me out of here."

Your tone of voice stopped being monotonous, now radiating annoyance and demand that made Sukuna smile at your outburst, he had always heard Itadori complain about how unexpressive you were with them and now you are exploiting a lot of negative emotions.

"Well, I can do that, but for that I would have to kill you."

"Do it." you didn't take a second or hesitate to respond, almost surprising the man, who watched you in silence as you approached him, your frown more with every step you took "What the hell are you waiting for? Do it, kill me."

Sukuna had seen many people begging him, begging for lives, begging to end suffering, it wasn't even the first time they had begged him for a death, but this felt… strange, he had never seen someone so young desperate to die, he had never seen someone have the anxiety attack you were experiencing right now, and strangely he had never felt the kind of energy you gave off, it was somewhat reassuring. He began to understand all the macabre thoughts about you in Itadori's thoughts, all that overprotection and worry, or perhaps, he had gone crazy, becoming infected because of the human in which he was locked up.

"Mmmh, I can do it, but you will only wake up, if you have managed to get here without trying, you will surely come back when you try to sleep again, but it is only a theory, since you have never been here before."

"In that case I'll think of something, but let me wake up."

"Ok"

He shrugged with disinterest, you didn't even feel how his fist lodged in your abdomen, your body staggered towards his, while he held you with one of his arms, the other pulled out your heart that continued pumping blood, you looked in disgust as he seemed to enjoy watching the blood splash across his face.

"Son of a bitch with a fetish for dishearten people…"

It was the only thing you said before your body faded away, immediately waking up in your bed with labored breathing, you placed your hands on your heart, checking that it was still in place, beating rapidly from the agitation. That specific night you couldn't sleep, because by doing so you returned to Sukuna's domain, or to Itadori's mind, the problem was rooted in the fact that that specific day Itadori was much more worried about you than usual, generating a certain connection that interfered with his and your dreams, the middle ground being Sukuna's domain.

Now you couldn't even go to sleep thinking about having a good dream, because depending on the night you would end up stuck with the king of curses, another person added to the list, would this be some kind of divine punishment? You just want to run to your parents and hug them with all your might, for them to tell you that everything will be okay and that you are a good daughter, for the moment you will settle for hugging your cold pillow in search of comfort while three pairs of eyes watch as your emotions slowly deteriorates.

They would make sure to be the arms that keep you warm, to be the people you turn to in these types of situations, you shouldn't be sad, you are much better off here, more protected and safe.

"Good night darling, have sweet dreams."

Gojo, having shooed the other three students away from you, entered your room, gently wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks, he stroked your hair for a few seconds before brushing away a few strands and kissing your forehead. He hadn't had the chance to prove that he was capable of being a good father in Megumi's eyes, but he could be to you, it's a shame that you still cling to your parents as role models when he was there, he would be a better father figure, just wait.

747 notes · View notes

lixie-phoria · 2 months

Text

↳ ♡₊˚. valentine's trouble ꒱

⧽ summary - not everything can be perfect, no matter how hard your boyfriend tries for it to be. he was bound to make mistakes at some point. but as the fates would have it, even his mistakes were perfect - a perfect coincidence!

chan x gn!reader // fluff fluff fluff! // wc - 1250 words // warnings - one sexual joke // happy valentine's day 🫶🏼

"channie?"

you can't find your boyfriend. you can't find your boyfriend in your own house.

"babe! where are you?"

he wasn't in the bathroom. he wasn't in your shared bedroom. he wasn't in the kitchen. he wasn't in any of his usual places.

a trickle of worry rolls into your mind.

"chan where-"

you stop dead, mouth still half open with your words dying at the tip of your tongue.

"what are you doing here?"

one problem solved - your boyfriend was slumped against the wall of your terrace, face contorted with an emotion you couldn't place, head hung low.

"babe? What's the matter?"

second problem uncovered - he avoids your eyes, pocketing his phone before looking away to the side. he's clearly hiding something from you.

"nothing."

"then why do you look so miserable?"

he clicks his tongue, awkwardly shuffling on his feet.

"it's nothing yn."

he wasn't even trying to hide his lie.

"channie-"

"you're going to hate me!"

you startle at his outburst, letting a beat pass in silence.

"why would I hate you?"

the very idea seems ridiculous. you didn't think you were ever capable of harboring any negative feelings towards your boyfriend.

"because i messed up, okay? I-" he breaks off, running a frustrated hand across his face.

"channie will you please tell me what's bothering you?"

when he finally meets your eyes, your heart sinks. he looks so sad a hint of worry creeps into your system.

"did you lose something? break something?"

"no! even worse - I forgot what date it is."

you stare back at him blankly, slowly wrapping your mind around his words. was today supposed to be something special?

"I don't understand Chris. is today an important anniversary or something?"

"it's valentine's week, yn! I was so caught up with work i forgot!"

his voice rings with disappointment, and you watch in confusion as he avoids your eyes when you take a step closer to him.

"yes channie it's valentine's week. what about it? there's nothing special to remember."

"no baby. i forgot that valentine's day is literally next week. i barely have time to plan something!"

and he seems so genuinely distraught you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth, earning an exasperated glare from him.

"love, you don't have to plan anything for me. why are you so hung up about this?" you gently cup his cheek, urging him to look up.

"i'm barely at home and this is the one day i'm not supposed to miss."

"chan-"

"i remembered only an hour ago, and the restaurant I wanted to reserve for the day got booked out just this morning," he sadly whispers, leaning into your touch but still refusing to look you in the eyes. "i had been planning this for an entire year."

his voice trails off towards the end, and your heart aches as he looks like a kicked puppy.

chan's love language was acts of service. he did everything for you as far as he could - picking you up from work, looking after your health when you got too busy, never missing a date night, making sure you ate and rested well. there was nothing that he didn't do. and you loved him for it. so much. and you could only imagine how he felt upon forgetting a seemingly insignificant date.

"oh chan," you whisper, moving your hand from his cheek to his nape, tangling your fingers in his hair. "don't stress it, love. it's fine."

"but-"

"plus," you silence him, bringing your other hand to place a finger against his lips. "i already planned something for us. if anything it's good that the restaurant is booked! or our plans would have clashed."

"but yn," he brings his own hands to cup your wrist, entwining your fingers together. "that place is so pretty. it would have been perfect. and so romantic."

you shake your head, flashing him a small smile.

"channie, i promise we can go there sometime else, yeah?"

he still looks a bit dejected, but he lets a small smile stretch across his lips none the less.

"i suppose."

"see! it isn't that big of a deal."

"so which place did you reserve?"

"that's a secret!"

"hey! not fair!"

"can you at least tell me where it is?"

"nope. that would ruin the surprise."

you hear chan groan in the passenger seat as you drive through the busy streets of Seoul, patting his thigh comfortingly.

"this isn't fair. at least i always tell you where we're going!"

you laugh at his insistence, keeping your eyes trained on the road.

the week passed by so quick you barely realized it, and valentine's day came knocking on your door in the form of chan with your favorite bouquet of flowers, chocolates, and a will to coax the venue of your date for the special day.

"ok at least tell me what letter does it's name start with?"

"chan if you don't stop i will make you sleep on the couch tonight."

"you wouldn't dare deprive me of sex on valentine's day!"

you smack his arm, shaking your head in defeat as he laughs at your reaction.

"just wait for fifteen minutes babe. we're almost there."

you were going to stand your ground firmly.

you would not give in to his puppy eyes.

you even insisted on driving yourself so you wouldn't have to reveal the location.

"you're so mean," he mutters, sliding down in the seat.

but that's the last of his complains that you hear, because the rest of the ride is filled with your usual banter and jokes, and when you finally hit the breaks, and signal him to step out, he all but bounces out of the car in his excitement.

"thank you," you say gratefully as he opens your door, helping you out of the vehicle.

"so this is where - oh."

his mouth drops open, and he freezes in his spot, one arm still around your waist as he gaps at the building before you.

"surprise!" you say, a tinge of nervousness painting your words. "i hope you like it! hyunjin told me about this place a while back."

but you watch in confusion as he just stares at the restaurant with his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

did he not like it?

"chan-"

"how did you know?"

you blink at him in confusion as he fully turns to face you.

"how did i know what?"

"this," and he points at the building with one hand, "is where i wanted to take you!"

"what?"

a laugh bubbles from him as he looks between you and the restaurant.

"this is the place i had in mind too! i wanted to take you here."

"you're joking."

"i can't believe it either," he agrees excitedly, finally moving along and pulling you with him.

"when did you reserve our table?"

"i think the morning when you told me you had forgotten it was valentine's week?"

"no way! you're the one who probably booked the last table i was trying to reserve!"

and his excitement is so contagious you can't help but laugh along, shaking your head.

"it worked out for both of us then," he says happily, slipping his hand into yours.

"yeah you were sad for no reason."

"hey! don't be mean!"

and hyunjin had been right.

the place was perfect. just like the man sitting in front of you.

it was a valentine's day well spent.

permanent taglist - @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr @hyunverse (send an ask to be added/removed!)

693 notes · View notes

reese-tasteslikepepsicola · 5 months

Text

Thinking about:

Joel and Reader having a similar relationship to Jay and Gloria Pritchett from Modern Family HC <3

No outbreak au! Joel miller x Fem!Reader

(I recommend you watch Jay and Gloria clips on YouTube <3)

Disclaimer: My fics are inclusive and open to any size and any ethnicity + race reader 💕

————

• Joel Miller is at peace with his life.

• He recently has turned 56, Sarah is attending her dream college, Tommy finally moved out to live with his wife, Maria, and Joel’s contracting business has been doing very well which makes him no longer stress about paying bills on time and worrying about being able to afford Sarah’s college.

• A relationship was not something he was trying to look for, he didn’t see why he had to at his age.

• He has already had his fair share of girlfriends, his last and longest lasting one ending in a messy divorce.

• Her name was Diane. She caused Joel nothing but stress and negative energy, and showed clear signs of mental illness.

• The day that she moved out of the house, Sarah came home from college to visit and she expressed to her dad that the house no longer felt suffocating and negative.

• She tried to get him to open up, but Joel was very closed off when it came to his feelings, and he didn’t want to put all of his emotions on his baby girl.

• Even though Joel had everything, he still felt grumpy due to his older age stopping him from being able to bend down for long periods of time at work like he used to, and having to shamefully ask his young colleagues to complete those jobs, and also that very crazy ex-wife of his that burnt him out.

• He thought that was the end to his love life until he met you.

• It was mid July on a hot Texas day, Joel and Tommy decided to meet up at a small 50s themed Diner to catch up.

• While the brothers were chatting and eating their greasy meals, Tommy doing most of the talking, Joel heard a sweet, soft voice from behind him,

“What can I get y’all today?” A soft voice spoke. Joel’s head perched up and he began looking around, the voice dragging him in like a siren calling out to a pirate at sea,

“The specials today are our strawberry cola float and cheese fries” His eyes finally landed on you.

• There stood you, a pretty, young waitress in a white and pink uniform, a smile beaming on your sweaty, glowing face.

• Joel was hypnotized by your beauty.

• He watched as you laughed at something the old couple said, your head thrown back and your hair swaying from side to side in almost slow motion.

• He could feel his face heat up and his mouth no longer chewing the few fries he shoved in seconds ago,

“Earth to Joel?” He broke out of his trance and turned around to look at his little brother,

“Who were you lookin’ at?” Joel shook his head and went back to chewing,

“Nobody. So how’s Maria?” Tommy smirked and squinted his eyes,

“I just said how she was that whole time you were ogling over that young waitress” Tommy laughed,

“I ain’t lookin’ at anybody, alright?” The oldest brother snapped, rubbing his beard. Tommy laughed even louder and leaned back in the booth,

“She is quite a doll, ain’t she? I’d ask her out” Joel scoffed and kicked his brother under the table,

“Calm down, brother. Your married for fuck sake” He responded, giving him a serious look.

Tommy rolled his eyes and became defensive,

“Y-Yeah, I know! I was just sayin’!” He shoved a handle of fries in his mouth to shut himself up.

Joel chuckled sarcastically at his brother,

“Yeah. Whatever ya say”

• Anytime you passed by their booth, Joel would un-knowingly straighten his posture and suck in his stomach and clear his throat, giving you an awkward nod and grin. And it made Tommy laugh every time.

• To put an end to his big brother’s suffering, the younger brother politely called out to you and signalled for a refill on their coffees.

• You happily did so, and to Joel’s surprise, you began sparking up a conversation with him.

• When Joel noticed your finger twirling in your hair and your laugh at his lame jokes, it gave him the confidence to ask you out.

• He felt like a young man, again.

• He swooped you off your feet.

• From then on, you guys fell in love and began a relationship.

• Joel proposed to you only five months later.

• Anybody would’ve told you both that you were moving too fast, and most importantly, that you were both very different people.

• Joel was a closed off, rugged 56 year old man, and you were an expressive, confident, hot-headed 27 year old woman.

• In a way, you balanced each other out perfectly.

• You would push Joel out of his comfort zone to be more honest with his feelings and open up, and Joel would show you how to be more tame and not immediately become defensive or sensitive about things.

• Your wedding was small but fancy, and Sarah had helped you plan it and went shopping with you a lot, using those times as a way to bond with you since she was not sure how to feel at first with her old father marrying a very much younger woman so quickly.

• After spending time with you, she became close to you and knew you were going to love and cherish her Daddy.

• Also, she thought it was impressive that you got him to start showing emotions and slowly open up, talking about his feelings and becoming less stubborn.

• Now, it took a while for Joel to get used to you, as in the way to get used to how you treated life, your friends, your family, and how you were a magnet to hot men.

• He always had a very small family and a quiet life. It was always him, Tommy and Sarah.

• Holidays were never a big deal, always just ordering Chinese food and watching old Christmas movies with Sarah and Tommy.

• So, when you moved in and quit your job to be a stay at home wife (very much Joel’s idea), he was surprised as to how much serious you took holidays,

“Woah, woah! What’s all this?” Joel asked, watching you put up colourful Christmas lights. He looked around and saw little snowmen statues and Christmas themed pillows laid out on the leather sofa,

“It’s Christmas, Joel! It’s the time of the year where you spend time with you family and decorate and dance with your loved ones and cook turkey!” He placed a hand on his hip and lifted an eyebrow,

“Ain’t this a little much? I usually just get a fake tree and decorate it” You rolled your eyes and climb down the small ladder,

“A little much? This isn’t even half of it! When I was a little girl, my mommy and daddy would throw a huge Christmas Eve party that had games and dancing and a bunch of home made food. Then, after twelve a.m, we’d set off fireworks!” Joel rubbed his forehead and flopped down on the couch,

“I usually just order Chinese and watch sappy Christmas movies all night” You sighed and tossed a Santa plushy at him,

“Listen, I quit my job and left my apartment to come and live with you and take care of the house while you are away at work 24/7. The most you can do is include how I celebrate Christmas. Okay?” He nodded and stared down at the Santa in his hands,

“Okay?” You repeated, placing your hands on your hips and giving him that ‘you better verbally say something’ look,

“Yeah, yeah, okay” You grinned and placed a kiss on his cheek,

“Good” You started waking down the hall, the sound of your expensive heels echoing,

“and, we are going out with Sarah tonight and cutting down a real tree!” You yelled out. Joel groaned but couldn’t help crack a smile,

“Yes, m’am”

• When it came to your family and friends, Joel was very surprised and not very ecstatic when you wanted them to visit for a few days during the summer.

• When you both arrived at the airport to pick them up, Joel wanted to hit his head against a brick wall when he saw a group consisting of eleven people walking down the escalators yelling your name excitedly,

“Ya never told me how big your family was” He mumbled into your ear, keeping a fake smile on his face. You turned around and slapped him in the stomach. He grunted and rubbed the spot,

“Quit that complaining! They haven’t seen me in forever” You whispered harshly, plastering a fake smile as well while keeping eye contact with your family,

“I cant wait to spend a week with you, muffin!” Your grandma squealed, pulling you into a tight hug. Joel’s eyes practically bulged out of his head,

“A week?!”

• It was no lie that you were a gorgeous woman. Men always did a double take when you passed by, and women found them selves staring you down with envy.

• So, when you decided to throw a barbecue for the Fourth of July for the neighbourhood, people all showed up, curious as to how Joel’s young, new wife was gonna be able to plan a barbecue on her own.

• Most people were probably gonna show up, the intimidating older women to critic your decorations, food, and your so called ‘inappropriate clothing’ that they had been gossiping about since you moved in with Joel and Sarah,

“Hm, really outdid yourself, y/n. Wasn’t expecting…this” Edith, an older woman who has been living on the same street as Joel for many years, said passive aggressively.

With your head held high and a confident smile on your face, you nodded and rubbed her shoulder,

“Aw! Thanks, Edith. Wish I could say the same for your barbecues” Edith stared at you with her mouth agape.

Maria, who was sipping wine and watching the scene unfold, covered her mouth in hopes to hide the cackle that was about to escape her mouth. She gave you a thumbs up and mouthed “solid”

• The men there, married or not, found any chance to try and talk to you, surrounding you like you were a celebrity,

“Beautiful dress, y/n” Johnny, a friend of Tommy’s said, slyly rubbing a hand on your waist. You smiled and stepped back to show it off to everyone, oblivious to the men’s flirting,

“Thanks! Joel bought me it!” The men grumbled, and Johnny pursed his lips,

“Right, your with Joel”

• It didn’t stop at Tommy and Maria’s son’s 5th birthday.

• Kids were screaming and running around, which meant that there were their fathers around as well.

• The bouncy house was empty, and you were two glasses deep into wine, so you took your heels off and crawled in to jump around while the kids were out to go have lunch.

• The fathers gathered around the bouncy house and were watching you with smirks, and Joel came running to push past the men to see who they were watching,

“Jesus Christ” Joel grumbled, watching as you jumped around, your revealing dress showing your “greatest assets” bouncing up and down,

“Joel, look! I’m jumping so high!” You screeched, a big smile on your face, innocent to the men who were undressing you with their eyes,

“Yeah, I see that! Now get out” He looked around and saw all the men with their smug, smirking faces,

“Really, guys?! Your family men. Come on, now. Walk away!” Joel yelled, shaking his head and pointing them to the snack table. The men all scoffed and grumbled, reluctantly turning away from the sight of you.

• Tommy was no better.

• He was so obvious with his flirting, it made Maria and Joel side eye each other every time,

“Uncle Tommy and Maria are here!” Sarah called from the front door. You squealed in happiness, taking the turkey out from the stove with a little dance. Joel chuckled and placed a kiss on your cheek,

“We saw them this morning at the grocery store, sweetheart” You rolled your eyes and playfully slapped his shoulder,

“So? It was only for a couple of minutes! C’mon, let’s go say hi”

You gave Maria a hug and kiss on the cheek, as well as her adorable son. You passed to Tommy and did the same, and said,

“Two times today, huh?” You joked, referring to the earlier surprised meet up at the store. Tommy raised an eyebrow and confusingly grinned,

“Oh, okay!” He went to give you another hug and kiss on the cheek, but you had already turned around to go back to the kitchen, and Maria grabbed his arm and yanked him back,

“She meant we saw them two times today, Tommy” she warned, glaring at him.

• Yeah, you were a lot.

• But, Joel still loves you.

• He loves your crazy big family, your revealing outfits, your confidence, your expressiveness, your need to help and care for everyone around you, and how amazing you were with his baby girl, Sarah, providing her with the motherly love she was missing out on.

• The thing he loved the most was how you were with him.

• You were changing him in a good way, You were teaching him to open up, to do things out of his comfort zone, not always make everything be his way or the highway, and you put him in his place and called him out when necessary.

• You take care of him, he takes care of you.

• Joel sat on his front porch, plucking away at his guitar, occasionally sipping his beer and watching the sunset,

“It can’t get any better than this” He said to himself in his head, sighing contently, strumming away at his six-string,

“Joel, baby! Come join me upstairs! I’m wearing your favourite matching set…” You called from the open window, a seductive and playful tone in your voice.

Joel grinned then smirked, running a hand across his greying beard,

“It definitely can get better this”

800 notes · View notes

redstarwriting · 11 months

Text

protected

hobie brown x o’hara!reader

request?: yes

request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?

I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”

requested by: @millerworld

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst

A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)

───────────────────────────────────

Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’

It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.

Of course, it annoyed you.

It still does.

He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.

Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.

In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.

You found detailed notes all about you.

“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.

And she was very much alive.

Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’

You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”

The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”

“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”

“Who am I? Who are you to me?”

“…Please, let me—”

“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”

“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”

“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”

“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”

“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“

“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”

“Cariño—”

“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.

That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.

Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…

“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.

And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.

───────────────────────────────────

#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #o'hara!reader #dad!miguel #hobie brown #hobie #miguel o'hara #spiderverse

1K notes · View notes

phantoms-world-and-more · 1 year

Text

Jazz in gothem

So danny was visiting jazz's new phyciatritrist business in gothem

From the sounds of it, its going great!!!

Most of the local rouges have been coming in , and from jazz's talks their getting better, she even said she'd introduce him to someone called mr.freeze who has ice powers and is a doctor danny wonders if he could help him with research, but there are 2 problems

Some furries keep trying to hack into her system, break into the building and attempting to get her to break doctors patient confidentiality, though tucker, reinforced walls from their parents and the anti-creep stick dealt with that problem

Though the option of sending danny after them is always on the table

Thats not the main problem though

No the problem is someone called the joker

Apparently he got word of a good phyciatritrist helping the rouges and according to jazz "tried to make them go back to his level" Apparently its a phyciatritrist term for when someone feels like others are getting better and they arent so they want to bring them back down so they dont have to change.

Anyway jazz is refusing to see him for a lot of reasons, the negativity and the refusal to get help being the main 2

So jazz called danny up to see if he could get this joker to leave her alone

Jazz, her clients, batman, red hood and the joker were all in front of her building

Jazz's clients were there because when they got word that the batman AND the joker were there they came running

Joker is there because he wants to distroy this goody-two-shoes fraud of a bitch

Red hood it there because he wanted to book an appointment

And batman is there to try and get information of what this jasmine fenton is up to

They've been talking for about half an hour trying to deflate the situation

After the joker pulled out his gun so did everyone else and this is what got jazz to snap

THATS ENOUGH, you can't barge in here are try to distroy other peoples chance for proper mental health, and you batman cant know whats going on eveywhere its not healthy and is disrespectful to other peoples privacy

The joker fired his gun at jazz and batman was about to try to save the girl when...something happened

A black and white blur got in the middle of joker and Dr.jazz

When the blur stopped ot showed a 16 year old boy with blue eyes, black hair bags under his eyes and he looked as calm as can be

???: you ok jazz

Jazz:yess I'm fine, danny could you please get joker and batman off my property, after i would love to introduce you to my clients

Jazz smiled at the boy and the boy ,now danny, smiled back

Then he turned to face the batfam and the joker

Danny:ok chuckles you have 3 seconds to leave befor i make you

The joker laughed, or he did until danny took 2 steps foreward and ATE him

Dislocated his gaw, opened his wouth wider than it should and ATE him

Danny swallowed the joker turned to the batman and with Lazarus green eyes that they all knew as the pit rage and said

Leave

2K notes · View notes

heartpascal · 8 months

Text

the sun was collapsing

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: joel thought you moving to a college halfway across the country would be the worst thing to happen to his family

▹— a/n: first off. yes this is me projecting. second, this is a miller!kid fic HOWEVER. it is not specified whether reader is adopted or biological etc + there is no reference to looks/resemblance! edit upon finishing: this took a slightly different direction than i originally meant but erm. yeah. let me know if y’all want any more of this!

▹— warnings: reference to a suicide attempt / suicidal thoughts and feelings — it’s the last section of the fic, and if you wish to avoid it stop reading at “You knew that you would never get used to the sound of a gun being fired.”, i will also put *** at the start of it (joel’s, but still, be cautious), negative feelings about going to college, miller!reader (adopted/bio unspecified), regretting leaving home, outbreak day, angst!!, brief use of they/them pronouns

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop (pedro)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

There had been a pit festering in the depths of your chest since the moment you had finished all of your exams. One which, no matter how many reassurances were provided, refused to go away, refused to allow you a moment of peace, of rest.

Strangely, it had only gotten worse the moment you had received your results, since you had received your acceptance letter, since your place at the college of your dreams was confirmed. As if all your hard work finally paying off was a bad thing, something to dread.

At first, you blamed it on the way Sarah had cried and held on to you for the way your chest caved in on itself. It felt reasonable to assume that your little sister could be the reason for such overwhelming trepidation about your impending departure. After all, you had always worried about her, had always looked out for her as best as you could, especially with everything that had happened with her mother.

When that didn’t explain away the uneasiness in your chest cavity, you shifted the blame to your father. Your dad, who you had looked after for what felt like the entirety of your life, who you had looked to in the best and worst times of your life. The very man who did his best to quell his own fear and worry about your move, just to reassure you, to encourage you.

Joel Miller was a self-made man, who raised two kids, a brother, and a business all in one short lifetime. He was a man who had struggled at practically every turn, and if this college was what would make you happy, was what would give you the head start that he had never received, he would welcome it.

You knew, really, that he would be fine. Your dad had raised you just fine, and he could handle your little sister without you, you were sure. For a brief moment, you had blamed that on the sense of foreboding within you; the idea that they didn’t need you. It didn’t take long for you to realise that they did, and that they would be glad to have you from miles away, rather than not at all.

So, you were at a loss.

It should have been an exciting time, something that you were looking forward to, rather than dreading. This was the start of the rest of your life, the reward for all of your hours spent working for the grades you had received, for the anxiety and stress of school. It was supposed to be a good thing. You couldn’t understand why your chest didn’t seem to get that memo.

The feeling persisted the entirety of the time that led up to your move, outlasting each brief flash of any other emotion. It continued the whole roadtrip up to the college, across multiple state borders, despite the multitude of karaoke covers that Sarah initiated.

Even when Joel and Tommy were taking your boxes up to your dorm room, you could feel it. Hell, when Sarah helped you start unpacking said boxes, it continued.

It was only when you were waving the three of them off, tears blurring the shrinking truck, that you realised just what was responsible for the feeling that had been bugging you for months.

You didn’t want to leave home.

Moreover, you didn’t want to grow up. You didn’t want to be alone.

The realisation was almost enough for you to call your dad, to beg him to come back, to pick you up and return you back home. Almost. Instead, you found yourself walking numbly back up to your dorm room, taking more than one wrong turn in the hallways which bled into one, and sitting down on the mattress which wasn’t your own.

For the next week, you breezed by, drifting along your timetable in some kind of half-there state. It was like you couldn’t fully comprehend that you were on your own.

You phoned Sarah on the fifth day, twisting the wire around your fingertip nervously, as if your little sister would ever ignore your calls. She answered on the second ring — unsurprisingly, given that was about how long it always took for her to answer the phone — and she greeted you with the most joyful call of your name you’d heard for a while.

“Sarah,” You responded fondly, tears immediately welling up in your eyes as you listened to her barrage of questions about your first week at college. “Slow down, Sarah, slow down!” You interrupted when her questions became intelligible over the spotty phone line.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sarah said, not sounding sorry at all. “I miss you. I wanna know everything.” She finished, which you already knew she would. Sarah was a lot like you in that way, curious and determined. You knew she was already thinking of what college she wanted to go to, and just how to get there. If she wasn’t swept up by playing soccer, neglecting her studies, that was.

Regardless, you smiled, just glad to hear her voice. “I know, I miss you, too. Is dad home yet?” You asked, unsurprised by her responding no, considering Joel Miller was renowned for his inability to stay on time, his tendency to overwork himself unrelenting. “Okay, well, you’ll tell him everything, right?”

“‘Course I will,” Sarah responded, sounding thrilled to get to relay such interesting information. She’d no doubt be sharing it with Tommy, first thing in the morning, too. “Now tell me!”

“Okay, okay.” You laughed, before telling her as much as you could about what you recalled of your experience so far. Some of it was embellished, of course, mostly for Sarah’s benefit, though also slightly for your father’s. You already knew he’d be worrying himself sick over you.

That phone call was the only time the pit in your chest lessened, the whole time you’d been at college. As if the smallest dose of home was having a real effect. It only made you miss the house back in Texas all the more.

You felt worse afterwards, somehow. As if the call had been a harsh and unneeded reminder of the distance between you and your family. It had barely been over a week by now since you had left home, and you worried that you would never get used to being so far away. How could it possibly get better? How could you ever settle in when the people you love were so far?

The days afterwards were spent mulling over all of your life choices, spending your time soaking in all the regrets you were beginning to have. Why did you work so hard to get into this college? You were miserable. Not to mention all of the experiences you had missed out on in your determination to get here.

Luckily for you, you finally made your first friend.

He had sat next to you in one of your classes, and finally, after three classes of sitting in silence, the two of you had struck up a conversation.

Strangely enough, the two of you bonded over missing home. He was all the way from Nevada, and shared your debilitating homesickness. He talked a lot about his mother, and his older sister, and it was nice to have somebody to share that with.

Things were starting to look up. Life was a lot easier when you had a friend to share it with.

But all the talking about feeling homesick didn’t actually get rid of the feeling. Your heart practically ached each time you went home to your dorm room, where you were alone, where there was no little sister to come and bug you about dinner, or about dad getting home.

You called again, on the three week mark.

Much to your annoyance and happiness, your uncle Tommy answered the phone.

“Hey, uncle Tommy. How’re you doing?” You asked, the smile obvious in your voice. Even to your ears, it was the happiest you’d sounded since speaking to Sarah, a little over two weeks prior.

“Well, if it ain’t our little ol’ Nerd Miller.” Tommy greeted over the phone, that familiar teasing tone making you roll your eyes. “I’m doin’ mighty fine, kiddo. How’re you gettin’ on?” He asked, tone taking on a more soft note, which had your chest aching all over again.

Still, you shook your head and tried your best to seem as happy as possible, for his sake. “Oh, you know, just learning the ways of the world, n’ all. Where’s dad?” You questioned, not wanting to be rude, but also desperate to speak to the man who had raised you, and who had also missed your calls since you’d been gone.

“He’s out buyin’ some last minute supplies for tomorrow’s job. Keeping himself busy, I’d say.” Tommy replied, before you heard him calling out Sarah’s name, away from the phone. “Hang on, now, Sarah wants to speak to you.”

You wait, listening to the shuffling of the phone switching hands from across the country, endeared by your sister scolding your uncle for taking so long to tell her it was you. They argued for a moment longer, their joking tones familiar, but sounding vaguely different from across the phone line.

Finally, Sarah greeted you. “Hey, little sister! How are you getting on, over there? Tommy causing you trouble?” You asked in return, hearing him yell, some distance away, straining to be heard across the phone. It sent you and Sarah into giggles, and she had to take a breath before she could respond.

“As always. So, have you been to any parties, yet?” She asked, always insisting that you were the Miller child who caused the most trouble. You vaguely heard Tommy yell out a ‘sure hope not’ over the phone. Sarah shushed him, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“No, Sarah, no partying for me! I’ve gotta work hard, make this whole trip worth it.” You said, and though your tone was teasing, your words were feeling more true by the second. You had seen plenty of fliers advertising parties all across campus, even been handed a few as you exited classrooms, but you were uninterested. Your new friend had suggested you go to one, just yesterday evening, but you had declined. You were pretty sure that underaged drinking wasn’t the right way to cure your homesickness.

“You’re so boring. Dad’ll be thrilled.” Sarah laughed, the sound crackling over the line, and you smiled. There was no doubt in your mind that Joel would be relieved about your lacking party life, as much as he said he encouraged you getting out and living. Hell, the whole reason he hadn’t called you was so that you didn’t feel suffocated by him, so that you could live your life without feeling pressure from your old man. “Made any new friends?”

You hesitated, for some reason. “Uh, yeah! There’s this guy in my—”

“A guy?” Sarah interrupted, immediately. And there it was! The very reason for your hesitation. You heard a struggle over the phone, and Sarah was sounding more amused as time passed. “What’s his name? Are you dating?”

“Okay, enough of that!” Tommy said, and there was more shuffling as he presumably snatched the phone off of Sarah. You could hear her complaining through breaks in her laughter, but Tommy was refusing to hand back the phone. “Your old man does not need this one passin’ along details of your dating life, kiddo.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “There is no dating life, uncle Tommy. He’s just my friend.” You responded, though your uncle sounded unconvinced. “Anyway, enough about him. About dad’s birthday, next week—”

It was Tommy who cut you off this time, shifting the phone in his hand. “Woah! Don’t you go worrying about that, now. Me and Sarah have got it covered, don’t we, kiddo?” You heard Sarah yelling agreements, though you doubted she even knew what you were talking about.

“Actually, I was thinking about coming home for it. Surprising dad, you know.” You admitted, mostly in hopes that your uncle would help you plot the journey. And he was slightly better at keeping secrets than Sarah was.

“Oh, you just worry about yourself, up there. We’ll look after your old man! You gotta get out there, live your life!” Tommy responded, dismissing your idea immediately, even though he knew his older brother would have secretly loved the surprise. But it had only been a few weeks since you’d left, and if Tommy was honest, he wasn’t sure you’d go back if you came home so soon.

You frowned at his response, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “You mean to tell me that you and Sarah are gonna manage the birthday breakfast, presents and cake? No way dad’ll remember any of it!” You said. For the longest time, you had been the one taking care of that sort of thing. Joel was always much too busy taking care of you and Sarah as well as overworking himself at his day job to sort out his own birthday celebrations.

Sure, Sarah was old enough by now to do this sort of thing, but it was something that you did. Since you were— what? Eleven? You had been the one to do it. Each year, you made Joel’s birthday cake, and either bought his presents or sent Tommy and Sarah out for them. Would they manage it without you? Did you even want them to?

It was the one day of the year where nothing else came first. Not schoolwork, homework, studying, work, not anything. You always made sure that this day was free, no exceptions. What would you do with it now?

“I think we can manage, right, Sarah?” Tommy said, teasingly, clearly not quite realising the significance of the day for you. Joel was your dad, in all the ways that mattered. He did everything for you! Hell, he even moved you halfway across the country, just because you thought it was what you wanted. This was the one day of the year where you got to return that. Where you got to show just how thankful you are for him, even if he did annoy the hell out of you whenever the chance arose. His birthday was the one day where you could get away with buying him gifts, and Tommy wanted you to… what? Stay this far? Be uninvolved?

“Tommy, I—… I always help with dad’s birthday. That doesn’t need to change now.” You murmured into the phone, suddenly feeling left out. It wasn’t a feeling you enjoyed whatsoever, and especially when it involved such an important day.

Tommy tutted, the sound just about crackling through the receiver, and you could picture him shaking his head, all the way back in Texas. “You gotta live your own life now, kid. Can’t be worryin’ about us little people back here. It’s high time you started puttin’ yourself first. Don’t worry about Joel’s birthday,” Tommy said, softer then, less mocking. “Me and Sarah’ve got it, alright?”

With a frown, you responded. “Alright.”

“Alrighty, now we better get goin’, your dad’ll have a fit if I make Sarah late again.” Tommy told you, and you nodded, before cringing and realising he couldn’t see that.

The three of you said your goodbyes, with Tommy putting the phone down soon after, cutting off his yells to Sarah about getting her shoes on. In the silence that followed after, you couldn’t help but feel more upset than before the call. Logically, you knew your family missed you. You knew that they couldn’t wait for you to be home at Thanksgiving, and you knew that they looked forward to your phone calls home just as much as you did. But it was hard. Brief phone calls with them just weren’t enough, and just showed that life was going on for them as normal, whilst you felt stuck.

You also knew that they were trying to give you your independence, that they were trying to let you live your life. Especially Joel. But you were finding, more and more, that you didn’t want this much independence. You wanted your dad to be overbearing and overly interested in your life, because he just wanted to be involved. You wanted your uncle to drive you to and from school, to sneak you a bottle of beer at family barbecues. You wanted to walk your little sister around town, because she was too nervous to go herself.

Everybody you had known back home had always told you that you’d be just fine at college. They had always told you that you were independent enough as it was, that you were practically an adult already, and that it’d be almost no different to home. For whatever reason, you felt guilty to think that they were wrong about you. You needed your family. You couldn’t do everything on your own, it was too much. It was too hard. It was too… lonely.

Where was your support system? Where were the three overbearing family members that would crowd you when you were upset, until you finally felt better? Who would you turn to when you needed a lift all the way across town? Who would you persuade to watch shitty DVDs from the Adler’s with you? Who would save Sarah from the Adler’s clutches?

As awful as you felt about it, you couldn’t help but want your family to feel as incapable without you as you did without them. You didn’t want them to manage without you. You wanted them to tell you to come home.

Part of you was just hoping that they weren’t doing it because they knew you were looking for the excuse to come home. Because they knew that if they asked, you’d come. Without question. Without even a moment of hesitation.

Your phone rang again, and you jumped up to answer it, hoping your dad was finally home, finally ringing you back. “Hello?”

“Hey!” Your newest and only friend greeted, the sound of a party muffling his voice. You sighed, hand over the end of the phone in hopes he wouldn’t hear it and misread your disappointment. “You sure you don’t wanna come to this thing? It’s a lot of fun!”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was the morning of your dad’s birthday, and you had barely slept a wink, despite having a class relatively early this very morning. It had been a night full of tossing and turning, full of regrets and ideas about going home at 2AM. In the end, your exhaustion let you sleep when it was nearing 6AM, and your alarm woke you up not long later.

You’d barely managed to refrain from micro-managing Sarah and Tommy, all the way from across the country. Instead, you’d let yourself believe that they’d be able to remember everything, despite your anxiety telling you otherwise. You felt awful enough about not being there for Joel’s birthday, the last thing you needed was to feel guilty about him not getting a good birthday, too.

Not that you thought that Sarah or Tommy would allow that, of course. But Tommy was almost as forgetful as Joel was, and it wasn’t like Sarah could borrow Tommy’s truck like you had, last year. She wasn’t even old enough to drive yet! Surely it wasn’t unreasonable for you to worry, right?

You held off from calling home until it was nearing the time they would be leaving for school and work respectively, in hopes of not making the three of them late. You knew that you’d have to leave for your own class soon enough, but it felt wrong to start the day without speaking to your dad. Hell, your sad breakfast of toast had already started the day off on a pretty low note.

The phone rang for an uncomfortably long time, and you were reaching out to hang up when somebody finally answered. No greeting came immediately, just shuffling over the line, alongside some distant yelling. Finally, Tommy said, “Hello?”

“Hey, uncle Tommy. Everything alright over there?” You asked, brows creased as you listened to the commotion going on within the house, audible even over the crackly phone line. It seemed that the day was not starting off as smoothly as it usually did, no doubt due to your own dad and his persistent snoozing of his alarm.

Tommy yelled something away from the phone before finally responding to your question. “All good on our front, kiddo. How’re you doin’?” He asked, though you didn’t miss how distracted he sounded as he asked.

“Um, fine, I guess. Is dad there?”

“Huh? Oh, hang on.” Tommy replied, before you heard the clunk of him placing the phone down on the wooden table it sat on. There were some crackles that you think were his boots against the floor as he walked away, and you distantly heard him yelling for your dad. “Joel, your kid is on the phone!”

It’s awkward — the waiting, that is. The second hand on your watch ticking away until the minute hand moves, and still, there’s only faint rustling on the other end of the phone. Finally, after almost three full minutes, somebody picks up the phone.

Sarah said your name cheerfully, and you smiled tightly, despite yourself. “Hey, Sarah. How’s it been, sorting dad’s birthday?”

“Oh, not so bad. Made him eggs this morning, because he forgot the pancake mix yesterday. And he’s picking up the cake later! But don’t worry! I’ve got his present sorted.” She rambled, barely pausing to take a breath between sentences. You can imagine that she’d been stressed, trying to sort everything. It’s not as easy when you’re young, and you know that from experience.

“I don’t doubt you for a second. Where is dad?” You replied, eyebrows creased as you waited for her response.

“He’s running late, as always.” Sarah answered, and you could picture her rolling her eyes. She was punctual by nature, and definitely didn’t get that from Joel. He was always too late.

“I’m here, I’m here.” You heard faintly, the words muffled across the line. “You, go get in the truck. We’re late! Hey, kiddo.” Joel said, talking to Sarah before finally addressing you on the phone.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but we really are running late. I’ll call you once I’m home, alright?” Joel told you, sounding apologetic and frustrated. He probably missed you — and your annual birthday breakfast — just as much as you missed him.

“Okay. Happy birthday, dad.” You responded, feeling increasingly down. You should’ve never listened to Tommy. Joel’s birthday would no doubt be a disaster without you. And you already knew he was going to forget to pick up his birthday cake before returning home from work. It was the whole reason you always baked him one before he got home.

“Thanks, kiddo.” Joel said, a faint smile audible in his voice. He hung up a moment later, already shouting to Tommy and Sarah before the call was cut off. You frowned at the phone in your hand, your eyebrows furrowed as you thought of your family back home. Moving away truly wasn’t a good idea, was it?

That was what your thoughts were stuck on, for the rest of the day. Even as you proceeded to go to classes and see your few friends as normal, you couldn’t help but feel that pit in your chest getting worse, like you really were making a mistake. It was suffocating, and it felt never ending.

When you finally got back to your dorm room — much to your friend’s dismay, after having left them in the library to do an essay alone — you waited by the phone for your dad to call you back.

But when the phone finally did ring, it wasn’t your dad on the other end. Sarah greeted you the moment you answered, sounding relatively tired. She started telling you about her day, and about how Joel still wasn’t home, despite it nearing the late evening. She also told you about having to go to the Adler’s house, and helping Mrs. Adler bake disgusting cookies, followed by how creepy her mother was. Sarah had always found the old woman to be creepy, with her motionless state and blank expression, but in her words, the old woman seemed even more creepy than usual.

You rejoiced with her when she told you the title of the shitty DVD she’d borrowed from their extensive collection, though. It was one of your favourite things about your dad’s birthday traditions, even though the movie was almost always awful.

The call didn’t last long, because Sarah wanted to get her homework done before the weekend started, so you let her go, and sat in your quiet dorm room, once more. It was lonely, more than anything, and even though you often just sat alone in your bedroom at home, it was different. There was no option of going downstairs to see your dad, or crossing the hall to see your sister.

Eventually, you fell asleep, the dim lighting of your room alongside your poor night of sleep prior meaning that you couldn’t wait for Joel to call any longer.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The first thing you think when you wake up to a world of chaos, is that you never got to speak to your dad last night.

Even as the world rages on around you, people going insane, reports of an outbreak, shots fired on the streets, you can only think of your family, who feel as if they’re half the world away. How are you going to get to them? Are they okay? Are they alive? What was the last thing you said to them? Did you tell them you love them?

It’s a quick downward spiral, one which you’re only pulled out of when your friend appears in your vision, gripping your arm with relief that is practically palpable in the air around you. He’s covered in sweat and dirt, and you think there’s blood staining his sleeve. Still, it’s a relief to see him, to see a familiar face as the sky turns dark and chaos rages on.

He’s pulling you down the street in the next moment, past the site of a car wreck, with three, four— five cars practically piled on top of one another, one of which is already ablaze. There’s glass and blood and bodies everywhere you look, and it’s a feat that you don’t throw up.

“Robbie, what’s happening? Do you know what’s happening?” You asked desperately, straining to be heard over the sound of people screaming and crying around you.

“I—I don’t know. We need to get out of here, it’s… it’s bad. It’s really, really bad.” Robbie answered, his voice shaking even more than it had when he’d been talking of home, missing his family. You imagine he missed them far more in this moment, just like you did. He didn’t look back at you, but he did lower his hand to your own, rather than gripping your wrist. You squeezed his fingers, breathing through the growing pit in your chest, through the weight settling in your throat.

You’re not sure how long the two of you walk, but by the time you paused, the sun was rising. Half of you is convinced that you’re in some kind of delusional state, delirious enough from your lack of sleep that this is some sort of illusion that your brain is creating. The other half of you, however, knows better. It’s the part of you that keeps that pit in your chest empty, that keeps it all consuming. It’s the part that knows something is very, very wrong.

You kept wondering how this happened. How did the world turn to chaos in a matter of days? Hours? Sure, you’d caught glimpses of news reports following what doctors believed to be some kind of virus outbreak, but that didn’t prepare you for this. It hadn’t seemed so serious yesterday.

Between lapses of silence on your trek with Robbie, he’d told you everything he knew. He told you about how he tried to call his family, about how all the phone lines were down. He told you about his roommate, who had tried to attack him the moment he exited his room. It was only thanks to a few passersby that Robbie had been able to barricade his roommate in their shared dorm.

It was a mass outbreak, it seemed, and clearly, the government had no idea how to handle it. The entirety of the state was in disarray, and there had been orders to shoot civilians on sight. Both of you were terrified of coming across anybody, whether they were Infected or just hostile, neither of you wanted to die. All you wanted was to see your family again.

You knew you never should have come to this college.

Neither you nor Robbie had brought it up, but there was an unspoken question about where you were going to go. Where could possibly be safe? How were you going to get to your families? The two of you lived in opposite directions, so what were you going to do? Split up and try to get back to your home states alone? There was no way to even tell what you were going to find, if you even made it that far. Would your family be there? Would they have left? What if they tried to come to you? What if they were already gone?

There was no way to communicate with either of your families, and the uncertainty was wearing you both down. What if you got to them, and you infected them, somehow? How did you even know if you were Infected? Was there warning signs before you turned violent?

You didn’t know what to do, and it was making you even more anxious. You wanted, more than anything in the world, to be with your dad. A part of you just knew that Joel Miller would know exactly what to do. He would know how to keep you safe. It was the only thing that was giving you any semblance of comfort, the knowing that Joel would look after himself, Tommy and Sarah. All you had to do was find him, and everything would be okay. It had to be.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was nearing a month since Outbreak Day, as so many had taken to calling it, and everything still felt surreal. You and Robbie had stayed together, and had come across a group of three others who had some supplies. One of them, Benny, was an ex-military man, and coincidentally, he had known your uncle, back in the day. It seemed like too much of a sore subject to ask how, so you refrained. You hoped, however, that if you could manage to find somebody who knew your uncle in the midst of an apocalypse, you’d be able to find him. And with him, would, of course, be your dad and sister. They would have stuck together, you were certain.

Regardless, Benny was keeping you safe. You felt far more comfortable with him than you did the others with him, given he knew your family. There was something reassuring about it.

The five of you were travelling together, avoiding populated areas and sticking to forests and fields to travel when you could. It seemed to be the best way to avoid those who were infected, as many of them were clustered in cities and neighbourhoods. There was more than one time, though, that you came across camps which had been ravaged by the infection. Benny had shot someone on one of these occasions, when she had broke from the tree line and approached you at a run, sobbing through breaths.

You had been terrified at the time — horrified, really, but when you got closer, passing her body, you saw the infection crawling up veins, sprouting from her skin. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the sound of gunfire.

All the work you had put in to get into that stupid college seemed trivial, now. If you thought too long about it, you were almost certain that you would go insane. It didn’t matter how much you regretted all of your past decisions, it would never change where you were. It would never change the fact that you had no idea if your family were okay.

There was no doubt in your mind that you would’ve never survived if it hadn’t have been for Benny. He was strict with you, stopping you from eating anything that could’ve infected you, because he was certain that the mass outbreak must involve some kind of infection in the food supply. He kept you alert at all times, and refused to let you lag behind the rest of them. He kept you alive.

That fact became all the more clear when you when he woke you up, a hand pressed over your mouth. Instinctively, you had panicked, eyes wide and your limbs flailing until you realised who it was, and when he pressed a finger to his lips, you had nodded. You trusted Benny, for whatever reason, he seemed to care about keeping you safe. But Benny had a certain look in his eye that you didn’t like, the furrow of his brow had seemed deeper than usual.

When he pointed towards Robbie, you could see why.

He laid on top of a blanket you had found, his head turned towards you, eyes closed as if he was asleep. But his fingers were twitching, and there was a sheen of sweat across his brow. His skin looked dull, and when you squinted at him, you barely stopped the gasp from escaping your throat. Instead, it had gotten stuck, and you couldn’t breathe as you stared at the Infection raised upon Robbie’s veins.

You had looked towards Benny, and he shook his head. You knew what that meant.

The four of you tried to leave in silence, but Robbie had woken up anyway. He squinted over at you, calling your name in a slurred voice, and his eyes had looked all wrong. Against your better judgement, you turned back towards him, Benny’s hand on your shoulder. “Where’re you goin’?” Robbie slurred out, his voice failing halfway through his words, and he had stumbled to his feet. You had taken a step back at his approach, and he noticed. He looked down at his hands, brows furrowed, eyes taking in the way his fingers had twitched, and he shook his head. “No. No, no, no, no, no!” He had yelled, stumbling around before he had turned back to the four of you. “This ca—can’t be happening.”

“Robbie, I’m—I’m sorry.” You had answered, voice cracking over the words, as you stared at the boy who would never make it home to his family. You had wondered if you would meet the same fate.

“C’mon, kid,” Benny murmured, eyes stony as he had stared at Robbie, his shoulders tense and his hand had hovered over the gun at his hip. “We need to go.” He had said, hand firm at your shoulder as he turned you away from the first friend you had made at the college you’d dreamed of. How had this dream turn into such a nightmare? “Robbie… don’t make me do it. We need to go our separate ways.” Benny had yelled at Robbie, when he had tried to approach the moment your back was turned.

“I’m not infected!” Robbie shouted back, though his twitching limbs and the way he seemed to lack control of his body said otherwise. His eyes were bloodshot, red around the edges, and you had known what was going to happen next. It didn’t make it any easier.

You didn’t look back after the shot went off, after there was a distinctive thud behind you. You knew that you would never get used to the sound of a gun being fired.

∘₊✧───── ─────*───── ─────✧₊∘

***

Joel Miller tried to kill himself.

He doesn’t know how to respond to the fact that he failed. If he’s honest, he doesn’t really know how to respond to anything. He’s not even sure that anything that’s going on is real. How can it be? How can there be zombies in the world? How can his daughter be dead? How can he have no way of knowing if you’re alive?

It’s all been blurry, after Sarah. Joel spends more than a minute thinking about the fact that there’s an after her. She was meant to outlive him — you both were. And here he is, very much alive, while his daughter is dead, and you may be, too.

The world is turning around him and Joel just can’t get his bearings, can’t get past the pain at his temple, the sound of gunshots. How could he live through a bullet to the skull, when his daughter is dead? How could his daughter be dead?

He’s vaguely aware of Tommy at his side. Joel is vaguely aware of everything, really. He can hear all of the screaming, the crying, the questions, but he isn’t really listening. He isn’t really listening to Tommy begging him for something or other, either. And if he had any capacity to feel anything, Joel thinks he might feel bad for ignoring his younger brother, the man who had relied on Joel his whole life, but he just can’t.

All Joel can do is close his eyes, and watch his daughter die in his arms all over again.

All he can do is hear the sound of the severed phone line upon trying to call you. All he can do is think about how scared you must have been, alone in an unfamiliar state, with no way to get home. All Joel can do is revel in all the ways he failed his children.

What does Tommy expect from him? How could Joel possibly go on when he has just lost the most important people in his life? The only people who mattered? Of course, Joel loves his little brother, and he would do almost anything for him, but this? This is asking too much of him. Expecting him to live when his daughter is… when you could be… It’s all too much.

“Joel,” Tommy says, his voice quiet in the raging chaos behind the curtain around them, and he stares at his older brother as if he’s a stranger. The bandage across his head makes him look weird, and the despondent look in his eyes is one that Tommy doesn’t recognise. “Joel.” He says more urgently, grasping onto his brother’s shoulders, seemingly trying to shake him back to reality. “We have to keep going.”

But Tommy’s urgency means nothing to Joel, who can barely see his brother with the way his eyesight is blurring.

Tommy continues nonetheless, grasping Joel’s shoulders more roughly, unable to rid the image of Joel pulling the trigger from his mind. This was his older brother, the man who had almost raised him, who had protected him at every turn. To see that man so… hopeless, so done with the world, it was jarring, even more so than the apocalypse.

“You can’t give up on me, Joel, we gotta go find them.” Tommy says, getting louder and more desperate as the time passes and Joel continues to look dazed and far away. This seems to catch his attention the slightest bit, and when Tommy says your name, Joel’s eyes clear up slightly. “They need us, okay? They need you.”

It might be true, Joel considers. But he’s not sure what he would do if they found you anything other than healthy and well. If you’re dead, too, then that cements Joel’s failure, ensures his passage to join you.

“Okay,” Joel murmurs instead of voicing anything else, realising through the muddle of his thoughts that if you were alive, he needed to find you. “Alright, Tommy, I’m… I’m here.”

679 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

mybiself

karakibako

空木箱 ~Kara-Kibako~

becs

Mrs B - allt och inget

ikeda-eriza817

池田エライザ

naott3

NaoTT3