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icarus-star · 4 months

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nsfw alphabet // clement

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ughh he's literally the sweetest thing ever. kisses, snuggles, a little snack, a drink of water, a shower if you guys got super messy. so much praise too. he likes to wrap you up in his arms, put on some movie, and just whisper sweet nothings to you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he lovvves your eyes!! he could stare into them for hours and hours without ever looking away. i bet he'd have some corny nickname for you based on the color.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

inside! it's so intimate, the trust that comes with it and so on. plus he thinks that filling you up is super sexy. he does also like pulling out and cumming on your thighs! seeing it covering you makes him feel so.. connected with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

when the two of you had just started dating, at the very beginning of your relationship, you got him a little stuffed animal. when he went home after the date, he got hump happy. the two of you hadn't had sex at that point, but he wanted you so badly. and the little plushie smelled like you, so why not?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

well, he's been with a few girls in the past. enough to know what to do, but he's not a master or anything.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary! he loves being able to see your face when he fucks you, and kiss you. he loves to be able to kiss you. plus eye contact is very special to him. he does also like when you have his legs over his shoulders so that he can get his cock as deep inside of you as he can.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

yeah!! he loves lightening the mood. he's like if the sun were a person honestly. he likes hearing you laugh and seeing you smile, especially when he cuts you off by hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

it's very clean and well managed. definitely not shaved, but there is a little bush that he trims every now and then. i'm kind of in between on him having a happy trail, but i'm leaning more towards he does. it's very well groomed too, and he cleans everything down there whenever he showers.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he's such a romantic. he loves roses and stuff, but he's not super likely to bring you to a fancy restaurant. it's not really his scene. other than that he's a sweetie and he always always treats you so good.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

before meeting you, a couple times a week. he's not really a super horny guy, but sometimes he gets a little bit riled up. probably looking through some porn magazine while he touches himself too.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he's actually super vanilla. he likes sucking on your nipples if that counts. he's just not a kinky guy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

bedroom, motel room, in a car, maybe by a motel pool if you're both sure that there's nobody watching except the security cameras.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

just making out. he's a simple guy. you're kissing, grinding against each other, it's gonna get him pretty horny.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything with bodily fluids/substances (excluding spit & cum), and anything that would hurt either of you. he's also not a big fan of degradation, both giving and receiving.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he doesn't mind being given head. it feels good, yeah, but nothing beats giving you head. fem!reader: ugh he loves licking your clit. he loves eating you out in general. sucking your clit, fucking your cunt with his tongue, kissing the inside of your thighs while he fingers you. he could literally do it for hours. he would probably wake you up in the morning by eating you out. "morning, baby. i made you breakfast. :3" masc!reader: he looks so pretty when he deep throats you. which, if i'm being honest, he does a lot. he loves sucking you off!! cups your balls when he's gagging and choking on your dick, and would also be waking you up with head.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast, but not exactly rough. he's just so excited, fucking you really really fast, your hips grinding together. but he makes sure that you're alright. he doesn't want to hurt you at all!! he's always checking in, making sure it's not too much for you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

sure! he usually likes to take his time with you, but he has absolutely nothing against quickies. if anything, he finds them kind of fun.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

sure thing. he's always down to do something with you that might get the two of you caught, and he loves to cum inside of you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

usually a good two rounds. enough to fuck you, give you head, and have you give him head in one night.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

absolutely. he loves using vibrators on you! he likes seeing how squirmy you get when he keeps it against the most sensitive spot on you, watching as you unravel. how it makes you moan and cry out. he might have a pocket pussy for himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he is a sweet boy, yes, but he is definitely a tease. he likes seeing you squirm!! he thinks it's cute when you beg for him to let you cum.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he turns into a loud, whiny mess. he's constantly moaning and praising you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he is suuucchhh a messy kisser. especially during sex. kisses with him are so sloppy and wet, spit gets absolutely everywhere.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5.9 inches, average girth, his tip is more red.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

7.3/10

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he gets pretty sleepy afterwards, he'd probably fall asleep before you.

#i ❤ rory culkin #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut #nstf alphabet #clement hick #hick 2011 #hick movie #rory culkin hick #my gif

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caarpenters · 1 year

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POISON

amber freeman x reader based on this request.

summary: the only one that can have you is amber.

rating: mature so minors DNI. beneath the cut there is unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessive behavior, and jealousy-fueled murder.

word count: 1,188 words

Wes Hicks vexed Amber Freeman more than she cared to admit. Not because of his borderline concerning level of paranoia. Not because of his deep-seated motherly issues. Not because of his horridly box-dyed blonde hair. Not even because of his deep attachment to her friend, Tara Carpenter. No, her vexation toward Wes could be traced back to one thing and one thing only: you, Y/N L/N. As of late, Wes had grown close to you, too close. He trailed after you like a dog with a bone, happily taking any scrap of attention you threw his way. For a time, his antics had been annoying, nothing more. Eventually, though, you began to inadvertently entertain those antics, to entertain him under the belief that he treated you the same way he did the rest of your friend group. You seemingly did not notice that the only friend he walked to and from class was you. You did not notice how whenever he stole a hug, he lingered just a moment too long, soaking in your warmth and taking in your all too sweet smell through his nostrils. Amber noticed, though. She noticed it all, and it sparked an anger within her that she had not known herself capable of.

Because you were hers. You had always been hers. Her friend, her steadying force, her person. You were the first person she had met when her family moved to Woodsboro all those years ago. She had been out playing in her yard, messing around with her collection of Chucky dolls, when you had ridden up on your rickety old bike and offered her the brightest smile she had ever seen, a smile that had rivaled the sun in intensity. You had asked to play with her Tiffany doll, the bride of Chucky, and that alone had been enough for her to know in her bones that you two were well-suited. Most children your age had frowned upon the dolls, deeming them creepy, but not you. You adored them, treating them with as much care as Barbie dolls or action figures were treated.

From that day, you and Amber had been thick as thieves, being one half of the other, which was why she could not tolerate Wes trying to weasel his way between the two of you. How would she handle him? Well, a more sane person would have likely come off with a lie, would have spread gossip meant to sully his name and ruin your perception of him. You were so good, though, so forgiving, so mere gossip would not be enough. Perhaps that was why when Richie Kirsch proposed a dark, blood-bathed plan to recreate the 1990s Woodsboro killings, she agreed without hesitation or regret. If pushed for her motive, she would without a doubt chalk it up to her love of the Stab franchise. She knew it is not that simple, though, for when Richie proposed his list of victims, she wasted no time in adding Wes to the list. C'mon, Richie. It'll add shock value. He's the son of a legacy character, after all, she had pointed out, even though Judy Hicks could hardly be considered as such. She had, in Amber's opinion, contributed little, the same way that her son had. Richie had thought her important, though, for he had agreed and added him to the list of victims.

That was why now, Amber waited outside of the Hicks residence, donning the typical Ghostface costume. The black material of the robe felt hot against her skin, itchy, but the knife felt right in her hand, its hold so comfortable that it felt as though it was made for her. From the shadows of the porch, she waited, anticipation strumming wildly through her veins. Richie was on the phone now, no doubt, luring Judy back to the house. She could put up a fight, could try her best to preserve her son’s life force, but her efforts would be for naught; her son had sealed his own fate when he had tried to take you, to steal you from Amber. Did he really think that she would sit idly by and let it happen? No, it was not in her nature to do so. To take such a profound loss sitting down was weak, and she was not weak, not when it came to you.

When Judy pulled into the driveway and ran up to the front door, her face a storm of fear, Amber jumped out, emerging from the shadows like a harbinger of death. And oh, what a perfect harbinger she was, for she mercilessly stabbed Judy, delivering upon her one devastating slash after the other. It was a wonder that she had ever become the sheriff of Woodsboro, because she went down easy, so easy.

Her son went down even easier.

After slaying Judy, Amber left her lying there in a river of her own blood to be found. That was exactly what Wes did, for as if sensing something was amiss, he pulled open the front door of the house and was met by a most horrid sight: the lifeless, cut-up body of the woman who had given him life, who had cared for him when no one else had. Unbidden, a grief-stricken cry tore its way out of his throat as he threw the door closed, trying to prevent the killer from getting in. Little did he know that Amber was already in the house, watching him, waiting. He leant against the doorframe, wheezing from a mixture of pain and fear. “Oh, God. Oh, God,” became a litany, the only words he seemed capable of . . . until Amber came out, her knife poised, aiming for his neck. In an act of pure desperation, his hands flew out, catching hold of the knife before it could make contact with his neck. “Fuck you,” he gasped as they struggled, fighting for control of the knife. He was distressed, willing to do whatever it took to survive, but she – she was incensed, rage incarnate. Months of pent-up vexation and jealousy came out, giving her the strength to win, to gain back control. This saw the knife plunging into his neck, immediately stealing away his breath and drawing out his scarlet blood. “No, fuck you,” she snapped, her tones cold as ice. The voice, it was her own, not that of Ghostface. “Now, die like the pussy you are.”

And he did . . . It was oh so satisfying to Amber.

Wes’ death seemed to hit you hard, to cause great pain to overcome you, which was why Amber stayed loyally by your side, doing everything she could to ensure that you were okay, that her actions did not break you. Little did she know that you took notice whenever she snuck away, believing herself to be discreet. You knew what she had done, but could not bring yourself to care all that much. Wes held no true place in your heart, after all, not the way that she did. And, perhaps, deep down, you knew that his murder, unlike the others, had been personal . . .

i HC amber as a child's play stan. idk why, it just makes sense, so here's a bonus fact: one year, for halloween, y/n and amber wear matching chucky and tiffany costumes. you can decide who wears which.

ALSO i know richie killed wes, but i changed it for the sake of this one-shot.

sign-off template.

#scream #scream fic #scream fanfic #scream franchise #scream movie #scream 5 #ghostface #ghostface x reader #amber freeman #amber freeman fanfic #amber freeman x reader #wes hicks #amber slaying (literally)

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jon-mcbrine-author · 2 months

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Romulus better canonize this, settling the debate

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marrziy · 3 months

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Wes Hicks x Male Reader

"O que acontece à meia-noite?"

• Filme: Pânico 5

• Personagem: Wes Hicks

• Gênero: hot (smut)

• Sinopse: Wes, seu namorado, lhe convida para passar a noite na casa dele. Essa é a oportunidade perfeita para finalmente avançarem um passo no relacionamento.

• Narração: 1° pessoa - presente

• Palavras: 1.3k

Esse é o primeiro hot que eu escrevi. É uma história pré histórica, lá dos primórdios onde eu não sabia diferenciar os porquês kkkkk. Corrigi e modifiquei algumas coisas, acho que dá pra passar!

Qualquer um que já esteve viciado em ver vídeos sobre casos criminais no YouTube, acompanhou threads duvidosas no Twitter sobre os feitos de um serial killer, foi traumatizado por algum documentário do Discovery Channel ou assistiu às desgraças anunciadas em um jornal, sabe que é arriscado andar sozinho nas ruas à noite.

Em Woodsboro, estar em alerta vira mantra para os moradores quando, entre pausas de paz, surgem anticristos mascarados com sede de sangue, ansiosos para matar algum parente ou namorada por motivos estúpidos. Sobra para gente inocente, que leva lambida de faca porque os putos têm um jeitinho criminoso de se divertir.

Acontece que eu tenho menos chances de tomar no rego se estiver acompanhado do gostoso do meu namorado.

Na verdade, as chances de tomar no rego aumentam nesse caso - no bom sentido.

Meu pai só chega do trabalho de manhã, já a mãe do meu gatinho pegou o turno da noite na delegacia. Então...

Wes fez um puta textão listando todos os 13 porquês de eu ter que vir aqui passar a madrugada com ele. Confesso, tive sim um mini surto lendo aquilo, principalmente na quinta colocação. Eu não poderia recusar uma maratona de The Office com o meu namorado!

Mas porra… não consigo focar na tv com uma mão veiuda passeando pela minha coxa. Meu colapso é anunciado quando o movimento para e dá lugar a apertos, tão fortes que esbranquecem a pele, fazendo a cor voltar em tons vibrantes de vermelho.

As cenas icônicas que sempre me pegam, agora não passam de borrão. Todos os meus sentidos estão direcionados às veias destacadas daquela mão, cada vez mais próxima da minha virilha.

É bem óbvio o que ele quer, as intenções são cristalinas, transparentes. Mas nunca fomos tão longe. Fico estático por um tempo, absorvendo e digerindo.

Um raspar de dentes na nuca, seguido de um beijo na mesma região, bem na área dos arrepios, desperta meu corpo do transe.

Wes não é meu primeiro; já transei com outros caras, mas nunca com um namorado. Não quero que seja especial; quero que seja gostoso. Não ligo para as besteiras vendidas por comédias românticas.

Perdão senhora Hicks, juro que não deixo nada manchar suas almofadas!

Me acomodo em seu colo e entrelaço meus dedos em seus fios claros, empurrando sua cabeça para trás e deixando seu pescoço vulnerável. Dou início a uma série de chupões e mordidas que marcam a pele, me prolongando no pomo-de-adão, pois sei que ali é uma área sensível.

— Não sabia que você tinha um lado tão safado. – Wes sussurra com a voz embolada. Suas mãos atravessam vagarosamente o tecido da minha calça. Entre o pano e a carne, suas palmas procuram algo para apertar.

Seus dedos afundam na minha bunda e torna-se impossível controlar os suspiros. O toque é intenso; só consigo pensar nos vergões que vão surgir quando ele passa a arranhar as bandas.

— Eu gostei pra caralho... Por favor, não para! – choramingo, me esforçando para não gaguejar.

Olhando para baixo, vejo o sorriso cafajeste enfeitando seu rosto, o deixando ainda mais atraente.

Paro de brincar com seu pescoço e libero uma das mãos que segurava seu cabelo, mantendo a outra ainda firme nas madeixas e trazendo sua cabeça de volta à linha reta. Dou-lhe um breve selinho antes de levar meus dedos livres até seus lábios.

Aos poucos, desço meu toque, deslizando o indicador por sua garganta, acariciando os ossos ressaltados da clavícula, apertando seu peitoral, beliscando seus mamilos, tudo ao som gostoso de seus gemidos.

Próximo àquele lugar, começo a esfregar a ponta dos dedos entre o cós do seu short e a pele quente que ele aprisiona. Sinto o aperto na minha região traseira intensificar, confirmando que estou fazendo certo.

Encerro as carícias em seu couro cabeludo, puxando novamente os fios dourados para trás. Wes parece atiçado. Consigo notar os efeitos quando ele abre mais as pernas, movendo o quadril para cima, buscando atrito na região necessitada.

Nunca senti um pau tão detalhadamente - pelo menos não com ele ainda coberto. Wes não está usando cueca, tenho certeza disso desde o momento em que ele me atendeu em sua varanda. Estava marcando, mas eu não quis dizer nada. O pano fino do short ajudava bastante, ou atrapalhava, dependendo do ponto de vista.

Minha visão frontal captura um relógio fixo na parede. No ritmo do tic-tac, Wes move os quadris com mais violência. Suas mãos, agora agarrando minha cintura com força desmedida, deixam marcas vermelhas com potencial para se tornarem roxas. Eu não faço tanta questão, afinal, estou puxando seu cabelo e mordendo seu corpo com tanta agressividade, que não duvidaria caso outro fluído pintasse nossos corpos além de suor e porra.

Decido me unir aos seus movimentos desesperados. Rebolando sobre o corpo abaixo de mim, sinto mais do pau pulsando no short cinza.

Nossos lábios finalmente se unem e começa a colisão de gemidos mais deliciosa da qual já participei. A voz rouca de Wes desce pela minha garganta; ele saboreia meus murmúrios manhosos.

A união das bocas é interrompida e o ritmo se encerra. A única coisa que prevalece é o tesão inexplicável que sentimos um pelo outro.

Sinto que vou explodir!

Abaixo o olhar, e creio que foi esse o objetivo de Wes ao retroceder o frenesi.

Me deparo com seu pau liberto. Ele havia abaixado o short e agora exibe tudo, tudinho mesmo! O coleguinha ultrapassa o umbigo, mas apesar do tamanho intimidador, o que realmente impressiona é a grossura.

Se eu já não fosse um cara arrombado, estaria com um puta medo de sentar nessa coisa.

Da cabecinha escorre o líquido espesso. A vermelhidão, junto das veias saltadas e o latejar descontrolado, deixam claro o quanto aquele cacete precisa de atenção.

— Gosta do que vê? – Wes bota as duas mãos atrás da cabeça, adotando uma pose mais folgada, se é que era possível. — Garanto que tocar é mais gostoso.

— Filho da puta… – tiro minha calça em uma velocidade desumana, desafiando a lógica ao fazer isso sem mudar de posição. Wes permanece com o short no meio das coxas, sem a presença da camiseta. Acabo por continuar com a parte de cima por pressa.

A sogrinha não disse a hora que vai voltar. O nosso tempo é incerto.

Me ajoelho com uma perna de cada lado do quadril do loirinho, com meu corpo curvado para frente.

Agarro a ereção abaixo de mim.

Sentindo meu toque em seu pau, Wes suspira pesadamente, próximo do meu ouvido, fazendo com que arrepios serpenteiem pelo meu corpo. Desço vagarosamente, sendo impulsionado pela pressão das palmas dele na minha cintura. Wes está ansioso para se aliviar, sua peça negligenciada chora de vontade.

— Vou fazer muito mais do que apenas tocar.

Com a visão fixa no relógio, consigo ter noção da hora em que cada borboleta bate as asas no meu estômago. À meia-noite, sou abraçado pelo calor interno, sinto a umidez e o fervor de ser invadido lentamente. Meia-noite e um, decidi engoli-lo de uma vez, chocando nossas peles com um estalo. Em um misto inexplicável de dor e prazer, sinto cada um dos 22 centímetros dentro de mim, me preenchendo por completo, sem deixar espaço vazio no meu interior faminto. Paro apenas quando sinto as bolas de Wes pressionando minha bunda, porque, tratando-se dele, minha gula segue os instintos e só se satisfaz ao ter tudo.

No fundo, vindo da tv, a abertura de The Office ilumina nossos corpos suados.

E assim seguiu até a metade da temporada.

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bright-molina · 1 year

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stupid for you

synopsis a guide to love languages with chad meeks martin, your best friend who you keep ending up in increasingly compromising situations with (completely of your own accord) *set pre scream v

a/n this got out of hand so quickly and they all bled into each other but it's okay because i'm giving all my chad girlies exactly what it is we deserve <3 (listen to stupid for you by waterparks it'll give you the perfect friends to fwb to lovers vibe we're going for promise)

~~~

[gift giving]

you show up on his doorstep on a random night, it’s ridiculously late, just past midnight, and the quick knocking on the door makes him think that something is wrong

he’s rushing to open it and you’re so quick to push past him and look all around and all you have to say is “where’s mindy?”

“upstairs? why, what’s wrong?” chad is shutting the door behind him and staring you down and it’s not until then that he sees the bag in your hands

he relaxes immediately and lets out an exaggerated sigh, shooting you a half hearted glare, the way he holds back a smile gives him away completely, “fuck, y/n, i thought someone was dying or something, could you not have waited until the morning?”

“it’s important,” you grin at him and start walking backwards towards the stairs and he follows, never more than a step or two behind you. “wes and tara agreed, it’s perfect for mindy and she needs it now this very moment because i said so”

chad watches you smile for a second and his hands twitch at his sides, itching to reach for you. to brush that stray piece of hair out of your eyes or pull the falling sleeve of your sweater up or take your hand to keep you from leaving or something. he doesn’t though. instead he just crosses his arms in front of him and shrugs at you, “what, nothing for me?”

“of course not, i love mindy more. you know this,” he watches the way you bite your bottom lip and then step up onto the stairs, now slightly closer to eye level with him. he barely hears the rustling inside the paper bag as you dig through it, much too focused on the way your eyes don’t leave his.

you take the shirt from the bag and push it into his chest. chad doesn’t look down though, he just keeps staring at you. and without looking away he lifts one hand, places it right next to yours, and takes the shirt. your hand lingers on his chest and you don’t move it away, not until he looks away quickly and clears his throat

“it’s,” chad unfolds the shirt and stares at it for a few seconds. that’s when he sees it, the name of a band and a picture across the front with a list of tour dates on the back, and he‘s holding back a smile again. “a shirt.” “a wonderful observation, you’re really the greatest mind of this age”

“y/n, i don’t listen to them,” he drops his arms again only to find you already moving up the steps again. you’re still looking at him when you tell him, “i know.”

you turn around to hide the look on your face. the huge smile is on full display now and he can see it when you glance over your shoulder, “i do though. you’re welcome”

[quality time]

“we’re gonna get caught” “no we aren’t” “yes we are,” you don’t look away from the clouds in the sky when the smirk grows on your face. “you talk too loud.”

“hey,” chad shifts from his spot next to you for a whole fifteen seconds. you hold back a laugh as he keeps wriggling until he’s comfortably on one side, leaning on one arm so he can look at you as he says, “you’re the one that can’t stop laughing.”

“well you’re the one that keeps saying stupid shit,” you break and a laugh escapes you, proving his point exactly. chad smiles at the sound despite his previous statement and he doesn’t really process the next words he speaks, “you love when i say stupid shit”

you look away from the clouds that time after you hear the words and find him still staring at you. it’s an intense look, one that makes your smile grow a little bit softer. “why’d you ask me to come out here anyway?”

it’s your way of wordlessly agreeing, chad is positive of that much. honestly, he doesn’t have much of an answer for you. the perfectly angled slant of the roof right outside of your room was one of his favorite places in the world. he’d spent so many nights and afternoons and early mornings just like this one just sitting right there beside you without a care in the world. it brought him an incredible amount of comfort.

then again maybe it was all just an excuse. he gave you a half shrug and said, “i just really like talking to you,” he let himself fall back onto the roof, using one of his arms to support his head. for a brief moment he looked at you again and then quickly looked back up at the clouds when he found you staring with the look you always had on when you stared at him. “that and i really didn’t wanna help pack up the car.”

there was your laugh again. the grin on chad’s face grew a little bit bigger. he wondered for a second why he was really out there on the roof with you. why he’d taken your hand and dragged you upstairs and opened your window to pull you into this little world with him.

before he could give it much thought though the door to your room slammed open and you both jumped, quickly sitting up on the roof again.

“hey,” tara marched across the room and silently observed the scene for a just a second. she didn’t voice any of the thoughts she had but she did say, “we’re heading out in exactly five minutes. that’s how long you have to get everything out of your system’s before we’re all stuck in a car with you two for hours.”

you moved first, the smile still on your face as you made the active choice to ignore the implications of what she was saying. “we’re going, promise.” “wait!” chad stopped both you and tara before either of you could move. “how’d you know we were up here, the laughing or the talking.”

you shot your head around to look at tara, eager to hear her answer. she looked between the two of you again and tried her hardest not to smile. “neither, we can literally see you from the car.”

both you and chad looked towards where she nodded only to find both mindy and wes waving from where they were sitting in the car with the doors open, shouting for the two of you to hurry up.

“come on,” you were the first to crawl through your window, waiting right on the other side for chad to follow you. he did as easily as you had followed him. “let’s go before they kill us.”

[acts of service]

“what are you staring at me for?” chad was used to you looking at him. the same way he was so used to looking for you in a crowded room. currently though it was incredibly hard to focus on the road when you had turned to your side completely in the passenger seat beside him so you could properly stare at him. he tried not to focus too much on the look on your face.

“i’m not,” you were. you so obviously were, you weren’t even trying to hide it. honestly, it was all chad’s fault. that was what you meant to say, though those weren’t the words that came out of your mouth. “i can’t believe you actually wore it.”

“why wouldn’t i?” chad looked at you now that he had come up to a stop sign. “you gave it to me.”

“i mean this is the best way possible. i need you to know that before i say it,” maybe it was the fact that chad had woken you up in class not twenty minutes ago and dragged you out to your car and you were still drowsy. or maybe it was the weird feeling in your chest you were trying to pretend was normal. either way, you had absolutely zero filter sitting there in the car with him at that moment. “you look, like, really good. you look…hot. which is surprising cause i got that shirt for you as a joke, i didn’t think you'd actually wear it, much less pull it off.”

“just because you say you mean it in a good way doesn’t mean it sounds that way,” chad actively chose to ignore your first comment. you thought he looked hot. he could feel his face turn warm just thinking of you actually saying those words to him and he already knew he’d be thinking of them the rest of the day. “and i’m just a little offended you doubted me.”

“no,” you laughed a little bit, leaning your head on the headrest and blinking at him slowly. “it’s just not really your style.” “y/n everything you’re saying is making this worse.” “just hear me out,” you made an attempt at fighting off the amused grin as you reached forward.

there was this strange moment of silence where the only thing happening in the car was you playing with the sleeve of the band tee chad was wearing as you looked him up and down. both of you were painfully aware of it and the air grew tense quickly. but then you cleared your throat and looked him in the eyes again and it was gone.

“you just usually dress really…preppy. the casual shirts and cuffed jeans are new for you.” for once chad doesn’t look away. more often than not he’d avert his eyes when that weird feeling in the pit of his stomach started forming, as it often did when you looked at him, but now he simply stared right back. he couldn’t look away and he wasn’t quite sure why. “is that a bad thing?”

“not at all.” your answer came out easily and you so desperately wanted to add on to it. with what, you had no idea. there was this feeling though, this need you had to express exactly how happy him actually wearing the shirt made you. how happy chad himself made you.

both of you jumped in your seats when a honk sounded from the car that had pulled up behind you and it was then that you realized you were still stopped at the stop sign. the sound of you laughing together filled the silence left after your last statement and it wasn’t until chad pulled into your driveway, turned off your car and handed you your keys that you said anything again. “you’re staying with me right?”

“do you want me to?” chad was already following you to your front door. he knew your answer already, asking was really just a formality.

“you really think i’d let you kidnap me without kidnapping you back and coercing you to stay?” you stopped after unlocking the door and opening it just a crack, stepping up onto the step that led you inside and looking at him just as you had several days ago after giving him that shirt you really couldn’t stop staring at.

chad beamed at you and it was like something was pulling him forward. he could practically feel how warm you were and how cold your house was behind you all at the same time. it wasn’t the first time there was this little space between the two of you. there was truly absolutely nothing stopping him from moving just the slightest bit closer. he didn’t though and he wasn’t too sure why. “you’re gonna have to try pretty hard to coerce me.”

you pretended to think for a second and didn’t miss the way chad’s smile softened when your face twisted into concentration. then you stepped back and let the door swing open, just barely stepping into the doorway and holding it wide open for him to come in. “i just bought that movie you told me to watch last night. we can make lunch and put it on to make fun of it together.”

chad did dare to reach for you then, not wasting another second in pulling you into the house after him, shutting the door, and declaring, “it’s a deal.”

[words of affirmation]

“you’re being ridiculous.” “oh really?” chad huffed as he let himself fall onto the bench seat right inside your window for a second while he caught his breath. “because if i recall correctly, you’re the one who’s refusing to answer anyone's calls. mindy told me you didn’t answer the door when she stopped by earlier so here i am. scaling your house and climbing through the damn window.”

“i was sleeping.” you didn’t move from your spot on your bed or even bother looking away from your laptop screen. “sure, what about when wes stopped by twenty minutes ago, still sleeping then?” “yes.” “liar,” chad rolled onto the floor before quickly standing up and shutting the window he’d climbed through behind him. “you can’t even sleep if you see the hallway light coming in from under the door, there’s no way you were sleeping when the sun was right outside your window.”

“why are you even here,” you shifted under your covers until you had turned so you didn’t have to look at him anymore. “don’t you have practice or something?” “i left early.”

that caught your attention. you paused the movie playing on your laptop and chad took that as his okay to move further into the room. he didn’t hesitate in the slightest to walk around to the other side of your bed and crouching down onto the floor right in front of you.

he saw it then. your red and puffy eyes, the sniffle you tried to hide, and the way you pulled the covers up to try and cover the rest of your face. he pulled the covers back down and let out the softest sigh. his free hand twitched again from where he had it resting on his knee as he crouched in front of you. and then he gave in.

chad reached forward and with the gentlest touch imaginable, just held you. he wiped away tears that were no longer there and he’s the one that stares at you for once. neither of you is too sure of how much time passes exactly, he just keeps caressing you gently with his head tipped to the side so he can look at you directly until finally he says. “do you wanna talk about it?”

and you tell him everything. every single thing on your mind. every ailment you feel, both physical and emotional. you tell him everything that hurts and how insignificant it all feels and chad quietly listens to every bit of it, never moving from his spot in front of you that doesn’t look very comfortable at all.

“you’re wrong about one thing,” he finally tells you once it feels like you’ve let it all out. “it’s not insignificant.” those three words feel so very simple but they almost make you cry all over again.

so without much thought at all you launch yourself at him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck making both of you tumble to the floor in a haphazard mess of limbs. chad groans a bit from the shock and the impact but mostly lets out a small laugh as he holds you close. “what was that for?”

“no reason. it’s just,” your voice comes out muffled and you roll off of him, letting yourself fall onto the floor of your room. “you’re my best friend and you mean a lot to me.”

you still aren’t looking at him. you’re looking at the carpet beneath you this time, picking at it softly to avoid having to acknowledge the way chad is staring at you.

he can’t look away. not in the slightest. it’s like something has paralyzed him and he has no choice but to keep his eyes trained on you, studying the way you react to his words when he tells you. “i’ve got you,” you hear him, he knows that much. you stop picking at the floor beneath you and he watches the smile he loves so much start to appear again. “i’m here. i always am.”

and you’re so incredibly positive that he means it.

[physical touch]

he can’t stop. now that’s it’s happened once he really can’t stop. there’s this need deep inside of him, telling him he just has to be touching you in some way shape or form every single time you’re even remotely near him. it’s getting more and more obvious. all of it.

“what’s wrong with you?” wes narrows his eyes from where he’s sitting across from chad and leans forward on the lunch table. chad, for the first time since he sat down twenty minutes before, looks away from the door that exists out into the courtyard. “what?”

“he’s talking about the fact that you haven’t stopped fucking moving since you sat down,” mindy elbows him in the side and he shouts before glaring at her. she doesn’t care, simply relieved by the momentary reprieve from the way his leg bouncing was shaking the entire table. she only repeats the question, “what’s wrong with you?”

chad doesn’t hear her though because he hears the door open again and much to his relief you’re finally walking through it while laughing at whatever it is that tara had told you. he doesn’t say a single word, he just stands and grabs his bag before walking right towards you.

“hey - woah,” you’re still smiling when chad takes your hand and pulls you right back through the door and into the school. he keeps pulling you along and you don’t argue whatsoever. you do, however, stop once you reach one of the hallways. “kidnapping again, really?”

“you can’t use that excuse anymore, it isn’t kidnapping if you come voluntarily every time,” chad stops when you do and drops your hand. he quickly decides he doesn’t like the empty feeling, though, and puts his hand on your arm this time.

you smile up at him and stare. just like you always do and chad is sure he will never get enough of that look in your eyes. “what’s up with you, anyway, why’d you drag me in here?”

he tries searching for an answer, he really does. nothing comes to mind though. it has to be the way you’re looking at him, that has to be the reason his mind is going blank. the reason why there’s nothing but white noise playing on a loop as he stares right back at you and isn’t able to find a single word. the longer he thinks, the more he’s sure he never even had a reason to drag you away. he just knows he had to.

“i don’t know,” he isn’t expecting to admit it but he does so anyway. you look like you want to say something to him again, he can tell. he can see the wheels turning but right when you open your mouth the bell rings and the people start filing into the halls.

you’re the one that takes chad’s hand as soon as you hear the bell and the action has him floored. he stares down at where his hand is being held tightly by yours and processes absolutely nothing else.

chad doesn’t notice a single thing around him until he physically crashes into you and he realizes it’s gone quiet. when he looks around he realizes you’ve pulled him into one of the stairwells, into this little gap right on the opposite end of the stairs where no one can see either of you unless they’re really looking.

“who’s the kidnapper now?” he smiles when you laugh and point at him accusingly. “fuck you, you came voluntarily.” the talking in the hallway is only background noise and even if it was louder you’re sure neither of you would hear a word anyway.

chad really doesn’t want to say anything. he is perfectly content standing in that stairwell with you, just silently looking at the way you smile at him without any interruptions around. he takes a step closer, backing you up against the wall. you don’t mind in the slightest, you actually lean forward a little bit, so close to him that he can practically feel you on him.

“what -” it takes an incredible amount of effort for chad to keep his eyes trained on yours and nowhere else. “what are we doing in here anyway?”

he can feel the way your body moves when you shrug innocently, never looking away and the smile on your face never fading.

“i don’t know.” you echo his words back to him and its like everything repeats itself all over again. the door to the stairwell slams open and you both jump in surprise.

your brain works faster than chad’s. you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him towards you with full force. he stumbles a little bit and next thing he knows he’s falling into you completely, just barely catching himself against the wall.

he’s hyper aware of everything then. his body flush against yours, completely trapping you against the brick wall. his hands on either side of your head with your face dangerously close to his. one of your hands covering his mouth to prevent him from making a single noise while the other grips the fabric of his shirt tightly.

chad only has a single thought. he could definitely get used to hiding in stairwells with you if it kept leading to this.

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