#I was so glad to get Star again so I could have them meet a celebrity like with Paul McCartney in the first story

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Another idea thats been rolling in my head is a Dynasty/Emperor Au. Where either some of the boys are Emperors or working for one and the listeners are Concubines trying to get away. Or one listener being a Emperor of sorts and all of the boys are their Concubines.

The only one I see being a Emporor is Auron, but it would be intresting if a different boy was one of a different region. I can see Auron having lots of Concubines but letting them do whatever they want with restrictions of course. He's the son of one after all and knows that they can have worth for things they wish to do.

Faust being Prince would be intresting bc he was going to be Emperor. But the more he sees Auron dealing with shit he enjoys having the privilege he has. Seeing Star though the main entertainer of his brothers harem want to see if he could be friends with them. He does ended up getting them in the end, only because Star told Auron truthfully they wanted to be with him. The read head was happy his brother found someone.

Alphonse has a candy shop still but also works at a Brothel. This caused him to meet Boo, who also worked there but was picked up by Auron because he loved their cooking. When Boo was given one wish by Auron they asked if Alphonse could come with them. Alphonse ended up being Boo's helper in the kitchen when baking. He makes candy treats for everyone, he confessed to Boo with a candy bouquet Finn helped him make. Auron made a comment once saying he was glad that Al finally confessed his feelings.

Seth is tricky to see in this au, but he was a theif but turned bounty hunter who works for Auron. He can see Alphonse is happy and decided he should too. Their still friends but he sees a fighter in the harem's ranks, Scout. Their more like a body guard for Auron only joined because they were bored. Both spar and go hunting together for new bounties for Auron. Seth tried to give Auron money to buy Scout from him but Auron just let them be.

Charlie works with Jack to get information. He also helps Boo serve food to the concubines telling them what they wanted to eat for the day. The listeners were ease to serve for but when he saw Casper again for the first time he froze. Casper was a successful merchant that asked to be apart of Auron's harem for protection. When they saw Charlie again they rushed to him and spinned him around. They connected again and Casper demanded that they wanted to be with Charlie. Auron smiled when he realized the person Charlie wanted to find again found him first.

Finn is the main gardener for Auron, he knows how to make the palace look lively for him. Sunflower is a poison make for Auron and taster. When meeting Finn they loved how he could identify the flowers they used based on smell. Finn tried to suppress his emotions but Auron told him that he only keeps Sunflower because they make sure he's not poisoned. He basically helped the two get together.

Lucien is a son of a warlord that tried to conquer Auron's empire. But Auron welcomed them into his palace, then poisoned Lucien's father with Sunflowers poisons. Big red was happy he did so he even took the title of being the new warlord and decided to make a trendy with Auron. Angel joined the harem because they were on the run from the deceased warlord, Lucien actually help then escape. The two had a crush on eachother and so to get them back Lucien asked if he could have them back. Auron agreed but told him if they are even hurt slightly by him he'd kill Lucien.

Jack is the one that does any job Auron needs done. Hunting someone down? On it. Information is needed from a different region? Here you go your Majesty. Buddy is like a Jester in a way from Auron, they were gifted to him by their parents who were wealthy nobles. They cracked a joke at him and Auron laughed at it. The two meet when Jack is giving information about a family and Buddy tells a joke. Caught off guard Jack laughed, Buddy really liked how it sounded so they always tell him some.

Auron is just happy that his concubines are well taken care of. He saw what being one was like by his mother, and what being the Emperor's favorite will do to them. So when Rook finally joined, they became part of his public image helper. They showed everyone that Auron wasn't a cruel tyrant he just seemed as one because he couldn't let other regions think he was weak. Slowly they broke him down and he asked if they wanted to be his partner. He knew nome of the others would want to hurt them since they were in love with other people and Rook accepted.

But when I think about just one listener being the Emperor (used gener neutral) is intresting as well:

All the YV boys are very different and some probably would never want to share a partner. But they were either gifted or picked by Listener to be in their harem.

Alphonse was picked because they loved how he made them feel normal. Just joking around and giving them candy when they went into the city to be normal for a day. So they asked if he wanted to come be in the palace and be taken care of for the rest of his life. Platonic or not they would respect his decision. He accepted.

Seth is tricky as well because he was trying to find Alphonse after leaving his pack of thieves. But heard he was taken to the palace he went to challenge the Emperor for his hand. The deal was if he won they give him Alphonse back but if they win he was to join their harem. They won but had a long discussion with Seth about why they took Alphonse and just wanted to give him a better life. He accepted after thinking over what it would be like a life without struggle.

Charlie was a childhood friend that listener had as a play mate when younger. Sadly when listener came of age Charlie left, he was threatened for being so close to them. He worked as a theif under Auron, but when listener saw him again they asked if he could just come back with them. He didn't want to at first but then said that no one would hurt him. After spending time together again he agreed to it, Auron even sent him off with money in case something went wrong.

Finn was apart of a family that was broken by the old Emperor before Listener took over. He was picked out from other nobles to become a concubine for them. Listener remembered him when younger meeting him in a garden where he was rambling about flower facts and how he wanted a flower shop. Listener told him of their memory and said they would fund it. Finn felt so happy he finally got his dream that he agreed.

Faust was given to listener by his father when they were born. He was also a playmate of them to get them use to nobles. Listener is more of a friend to him and let him do whatever he wants. They know what training he had to endorse to become the perfect 'groom' for them. Faust keeps most of the other concubines in check if they try something that will displease listener who has a thousand other things to worry about. He likes causing problems for the advisors he and listener doesn't like.

Auron is a powerful and influential merchant that basically runs the market. Since he knew Listener through Faust he supports them. Listener knows of his other job but chooses to not knowledge it, they know better not too. But lots of people kept pushing for them to either marry or make Auron a concubine for them. So to get hem off his back listener gave him a title of honorary concubine. Faust wasn't happy but listener told him they only did so because Auron is someone they're expect and want to keep safe from other power hungry nobles. Helps keep nobles and concubines stay in line with Faust.

Lucien is a son of a warlord once again in this. He was gifted to listener by his father because he lost a battle against them. Seeing that he loves to cook listen let him become their personal cook. He was just happy that he was able to have a semi normal life so he makes sure to give listener a feast when they wish. He gets along well with Alphonse and butts heads with Faust sometimes. But in all he's pretty chill with everyone, and is used as a intimidation factor for listener when dealing with other warlords and nobles that try and test them.

Jack is their handy man they chose because Finn told them all of the things he can do. Jack was a normal commoner that became friends with Finn bc his family worked for Finn's. He was a butler of sorts for Finn when he was picked by Listener but as time went by Listener liked how good he was at a lot of things. Auron even praised his work ethic once and told Listener that they should add him to the harem. So they did asking Finn and him if that was okay, they were happy to be closer to each other again. Now they can hang out without any of the other concubines out of the YV boys commenting on it.

#hhmm Emporor au mixes my brain chemistry right #lord help me i almost forgot about Charlie #also i was YAPPINGG #red rants #yuurivoice #yuurivoice auron #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice seth #yuurivoice faust #yuurivoice finn #yuurivoice jack #yuurivoice lucien #red writes

[heard-nsfw-is-back]

Eddie loses a ring and he's a little confused but he's put his stuff in strange places before. He's lost it for a week and now he just wants to find it as a matter of principle. His rings are specific and hard to find so he always makes sure to (not) buy them when he sees them. Another week goes by and he meets up with Steve. They're going bowling and he puts his rings in the glove box where he finds his missing ring. "Oh for the. There you are!" Happily, Eddie carefully deposits the other rings in the glove box and Steve just smiles and shakes his head.

They go bowling and Steve wins this time and Eddie treats him to some funnel cake. "I could make this at home you know. It'll be just as good." Eddie gapes, mockingly offended. "All food tastes better when it comes from a questionable source, Harrington. Remember that." Steve rolls his eyes and flicks some sugar at him.

Eddie gets dropped off and he grabs his rings, making sure he's not missing any again, before sliding out the car. Steve blows him a kiss and Eddie mimes grabbing and swallowing it. "Chew your food Munson." And Steve drives away. Eddie crawls in to bed before sitting up. Damn, he missed prime swallowing jokes opportunities.

Years go by and Eddie and Steve are sitting in bed. They've been dating for a while and Steve is holding Eddie's hand messing with the fresh nail polish he did. "Don't mess up my artist's work. He wouldn't appreciate it." Eddie admonished, teasing. Steve smiled and pulls his hand down for a kiss. "Would you ever want to get married?" Steve asks and Eddie could feel his shoulders tense. "Yeah I mean. Yes. I think so. I mean I wouldn't need it. I'd be ok just. I mean it's not legal." Steve hums. "I'd marry you." Eddie starts going through every ring he'd pass by.

Steve slides out of the bed and kneels on the floor, still holding Eddie's hand. "We've survived hell on earth and hell in hell and I am so glad you're in my life. You're beautiful and brilliant and so kind. Would you please marry me?" And pulls out a ring. A beautiful carbon black band with a small gold gem. "Oh fuck that's beautiful." Eddie whispers and scoots over to pull Steve in for a kiss. "Yes. Yes!" Eddie sits up and Steve slides the ring on. They're both crying and laughing and kissing and it's gross and wet and they've never felt more in love.

Later, sweaty and exhausted, Eddie asks how Steve knew his ring size. He answered about how he took a ring he wore on that finger once and brought it to have a ring made to that size. Eddie doesn't remember but Steve looks so smug about it. "It was years ago. Don't worry." Eddie laughs. "Years? I think you need to get your head checked we haven't been dating that long." Steve smiles and looks up at the stick on glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.

"We weren't dating." And Eddie is so touched and feels so small and warm. He's been loved for so long and it's a humbling experience. "Can I wear a dress?" Steve laughs, "Of course you can." "Can you wear that sleeveless jacket?" "Uh that's a no." "Can we have a cool cake?" Steve is laughing harder. "You're gonna be a bridezilla, aren't you?"

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things

[fooled-around-and-fell]

The Best Kisser

Summary: You were interviewed by Vanity Fair for their lie detector episode which went viral.. and Pedro happened to watch it as well.

Characters: Pedro Pascal x female reader

Genre: romance, fluff

Warnings: flirting, sex jokes

a/n: I am hungry for Pedro Pascal. He. Is. Daddy.

Masterlist

"Who's the best kisser out of all of your co-stars?"

Your eyebrows raised. "There's a few on that list. I don't think I remember them all."

"Don't worry, we have that list." The woman took out a piece of paper for you to read with the camera zoomed in from above you.

"Ben Covington, Daniel Kaluuya, Grant Gustin? I don't remember... Oh, in that one episode of Flash, right..." You went through the list of names while talking to yourself and stopped.

"Looks like you know your answer?"

"Yeah." You handed her the paper back, pressing your lips into a shy smile. "Pedro Pascal."

"Pedro Pascal? Why?"

You glanced at the camera. "Just because."

Pedro paused the video, a smile lingering on his lips. "Ah, cariño, what am I going to do with you.."

Oscar's New Year's party was happening tonight. It wasn't huge, mostly just his close friends and family, and your goal was to reconnect with them after your hectic year. You're good friends with both Oscar and Elvira, and they had invited you to come.

"Y/N, glad you could make it!" Elvira hugged you.

"Hey! I brought my mom's famous lemon pie and some beers."

Elvira welcomed you inside. "Perfect. Here, let me get that delicious smelling lemon pie and you can put the beers outside -- away from the kids, you know how it is. Oscar's outside too!"

"Cool, don't eat all the pie!" You teased and made your way to their backyard.

Oscar was there as she said, talking to a few friends, and a certain friend whom you recognized. A very good friend.

"So, how's the night going so far?" You stood between them, surprising the two men with your presence.

"Hey!" Oscar gave you a hug, "It's been a while! How are you?"

"I'm good," You put the beers down and faced the other man. "Señor Pascal."

"Señorita," Pedro smiled, hugging you and placing a kiss on your temple. "I heard you're gonna star in a big movie soon?"

You let out a nervous chuckle, "Hopefully it works out well. Can't tell you guys what it is just yet, but you'll see soon enough."

Oscar had sensed there was something you two needed to talk alone, so he left to help Elvira.

You offered Pedro the beer you brought. "So how about you? Heard you're gonna be on The Last Of Us? That's a pretty big deal."

He shrugged, beer in hand. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. I have yet to actually play the game, but my nephews are elated."

"Well if you want to try out the game you can borrow my console, I have it." You mentioned, though later hitting yourself in the head when you realized you just indirectly invited him home.

He raised a brow. "I didn't know you're into video games?"

"I like to play sometimes, but it's just good to have for my nephews when they're over."

Pedro nodded while noticing there were more people now. "Hey, follow me."

You and Pedro met when you were shooting a movie, that was 2 years ago. You've kept in touch since, but it was hard to meet in person due to your busy schedules. In the movie you two worked on, both of you were the main characters and the chemistry was off the charts.

Sadly it didn't win or was nominated for awards, but you made a good friend out of it.

It wasn't until Oscar's kid's birthday party that you met Pedro again. You met Oscar through the first Dune movie, and you had no idea that he was best friends with Pedro Pascal.

"It's been a while since I last saw you." Pedro said. "I've missed you, we should hang out more."

You nodded, unable to deny the beat your heart skipped and the blush creeping to your face. You convinced yourself it's the beer. "Yeah, I've missed you too."

Pedro took you to Oscar's balcony, where there were only the two of you. This way you could see the fireworks while also have a private conversation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone right now?" Pedro asked. Despite him being confident in front of the camera and knowing that his fans pray to him day and night, he was still nervous when asking that question.

You were his crush for the longest time -- yes, crushes still exist even for older people. He didn't want to mess it up with you, he knew his persona could come off as a fuckboy who has commitment issues, but he's really not like that.

You shrugged, "Nope. I've just been focusing on myself lately, just.. going with the flow."

Ever since you shot that movie, the chemistry was so great that both of you wanted to make sure it wasn't just 'the high' from filming a movie together and getting too immersed in the characters.

"I saw you in Wonder Woman," You said, "Please never shave off your mustache again."

Pedro laughed, "What, you're a fan of my mustache?"

"Pedro, please." You smiled, leaning against the railing next to him. "I used to play with your facial hair all the time when we were shooting that movie, remember?" You unconsciously traced your fingers along his beard.

The realization only hit you after Pedro was looking at you with adoring eyes. You pulled your hand away and you could feel yourself getting red in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I.. don't know why I did that." You turned the other way, letting the cool wind hit your face in hopes that it'll cool you down.

Pedro chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand, hiding his victory smile and the redness crawling up his cheeks. Did you really just caress his face like that??

Taking a big sip of his beer, Pedro gathered the courage to look at you once more, noticing your (also) flushed face and he smiled. He might have a shot at this after all.

"So," He cleared his throat. "Best kisser, huh?"

You knew exactly what he was talking about. "You.. watched the video?"

"You went viral." He smiled, "Of course I watched it. How could I not? When my cariño is talking so sweetly about me.."

You covered your face, "Okay, so I complimented you. And yes, you were the best kisser out of all my other co-stars. Congrats, I guess?"

Pedro had a grin on his face, a teasing grin, and you're now looking at him with a knowing look. Mostly because you both noticed the change in the mood, noticed that the chemistry is back, and that you both wanted this.

You didn't know how long you two were on that balcony, but it was probably a long time cause the crowd downstairs were starting to count down the new year.

"10! 9! 8! 7!"

Pedro turned his body so he was trapping you between his arms, "So, princesa,"

You looked up at him, holding his intense gaze, waiting for him to finish his question.

"You think I'll still hold that title?"

Your heart fluttered, you could see the hunger in his eyes, and you knew you felt the same way.

"I guess we'll find out."

You said it in barely a whisper, but Pedro picked it up loud and clear. He snaked one hand behind your waist and the other on your face, pulling you closer.

Everyone counted from three, two, one, and Pedro smiled sweetly at you, holding you close with your noses touching before pressing his lips to yours.

This was probably the first time ever you've missed the fireworks, but if this was how you'd spend the rest of your new year's, you really wouldn't mind.

---

a/n: in case you can't tell, I have a massive crush on this man.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou joel #tlou hbo #hbo the last of us #frankie morales #frankie #pedro #pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #joel miller #javier pena #narcos #pedro pascal narcos #the mandalorian #din djarin #game of thrones #oberyn martell #pedro x reader #rpf

[wondersinwaynemanor]

thinking how Dick always finds ways to hang out with his brothers. but reality is that, they have grown with different schedules and locations and responsibilities. his brothers have partners now. Jason is a dad for goodness sake.

Dick finds himself often emotional. he is a man nearing his 30's, but he still often misses his younger brothers.

so Dick tries.

Dick, calls Jason, who is in Star City: Hey, Little Wing. You free this Saturday? There's a new action movie. Want to check it out?

Jason, pouts at the other end of the phone: Sorry, Dickie. I have to attend to Lian's reading playdate at her friend's house. Roy refuses to go.

Dick, feels a pang on his chest: Oh, of course, yeah. I'm glad you're there to teach Roy how to read.

Jason, laughs which makes Dick smile: Hey, lay off! But maybe we can watch another movie next month? My schedule is kinda booked this month-

Dick, doesn't mean to cut his brother off: No problem, Jay. Next time, yeah? Maybe me and Wally can visit soon.

Jason: You both should. Lian is asking for her favorite uncles. Please don't tell Tim and Conner I told you that.

Dick, laughs: I'll see you soon, Little Wing. Miss you. Say "hi" to Lian for me. And "fuck you" to Roy for me.

Jason, chuckles which makes Dick smile again: You got it, Goldie. See ya!

Dick keeps trying.

Dick knocks on the door of Tim's room and cherishes this moment, because Tim is barely at the Manor. Well, none of them mostly are at the Manor for years now. He enters when Tim says "come in".

Dick: Timmy!! Want to try this new coffee-

he closes his mouth when he sees Tim in front of the mirror, wearing a suit and fixing a tie.

Dick, frowns: Oh, you leaving already?

Tim bites his lip as he concentrates to fixing the tie. Dick chuckles and approaches Tim to do it for him.

Tim: Yes, going to Metropolis for a business meeting. Then off to New York after, booked that hotel for me and Kon.

Tim gestures to the packed bag on the floor.

Dick, feels a pang on his chest: Oh, right right. I almost forgot.

he backs up and smiles at his brother.

Dick: Well, looks like you're ready to go. You look handsome, Baby Bird.

Tim, smiles: Thank you, Dick.

he gives Dick a quick hug and Dick wishes it was longer.

Tim: See you next week, Dick!

Dick: Have fun! See you, Timmy!

before Tim exists his room, he turns around.

Tim: You were saying something a while ago? Sorry, I didn't catch it.

Dick: It's nothing.

Tim: You better tell me when I come back. Bye, Dick!

Dick, says to the empty room: Bye...

and Dick keeps trying.

Dick is barely with Damian during patrols anymore, so he's glad his brother called for back up, since Bruce was in another planet with the Justice League. Damian has grown so much, he's been using new suits, because he has outgrown a few of the older ones.

Nightwing: Hey, Robin. Want to catch some Big Belly burgers after we freshen up?

Robin: I think I'll have to pass, Nightwing. Superboy is picking me up in a few.

Nightwing, feels a pang on his chest: Right, right. He better not drop you.

Robin, snorts, but he smiles so Nightwing smiles also: He would never.

before Nightwing leaves Robin on the rooftop, he leans down to kiss the top of his head. it hits him that very long ago, he acted as his father figure when Batman was gone.

Nightwing: Take care, okay? Love you.

Nightwing thought he would not get a response, but as soon as he turns around to head for home, he hears Robin.

Robin: Love you, Akhi.

Dick has come to accept that his brothers are grown up now. that maybe he wasn't part of their lives anymore, he could honestly cry-

so when the door opens of their house, he expects to see Wally, bringing flowers and food like usual, but he sees his brothers instead. Jason has a box on his hand, which happens to be a copy of the movie they were supposed to watch. Tim has a bag of coffee from the new cafe place. Damian has a bag from Big Belly Burger. and if there tears on his eyes when they hang out that night, at least he's got his brothers to cuddle with on the couch.

#dick grayson i love you #big brother dick grayson is the best #big brother dick grayson #batfamily prompt #batfamily #batbros #batkids #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #dc universe #dc #the mentioned ships i am cryingggg #dad jason todd #that should be a tag??? #i wonder how big belly burger tastes like #batfam #dc comics

[fuckmyskywalker]

professor!anakin? or maybe dilf!anakin

— CW: Age gap! (Anakin is 40, reader is 23.), Modern!AU, Divorced!Anakin, Love/Touch/AttentionDeprived!Anakin, he overthinks! Kissie! 🤍.

— a/n: You got me at Dilf!Anakin. (Leia and Luke are around 15-16 in this AU!) I think this is gonna be a series! I would love to start a Dilf!Anakin series so send more asks on this one ;).

He knows this is rather idiotic.

But then again... name one time he has done something he doesn't regret.

He could spend hours just rethinking his life…

But— when he sees you sitting at the other side of the table, smiling and glowing like the sun itself, he no longer feels like a pathetic, father of two, divorced 40 year old, but more of a hormonal teenage boy who is having his first date.

"Tell me about them, they sound charming" You say with the most pretty smile Anakin has even seen in his life.

And he was married once.

"Well… Leia is more of an extrovert, she is running for class president and there's no doubt she will win" He replies. He is actually impressed you look so interested in his life. "Luke is a bit more introverted, he's more into art and music… but as long as it makes him happy, guess I'm okay with it"

When he downloaded that confusing dating app at 3 am during one of those nights when he couldn't sleep, he never imaged he would encounter such a lovely young lady as you. Right away he understood people only tried to hook up, and he felt ridiculous for looking something more of a "long–term" thing in a damn app.

After ignoring some desperate texts asking for more pics, for a place to meet, and even for his Snapchat (he has no idea how to use that either), he then found you.

And he was so glad he did.

"I would love to meet them one day" You reply, bringing him back to reality. "I mean— if you want to meet up again, that is" You quickly add, blushing slightly at your straightforward comment.

«I want to see you every goddamned day» Anakin thinks.

You're almost 17 years younger than him, and he should be worried about that, but somehow the idea thrills him.

"That would be nice" He replies, giving you a little smile.

He learns about you, as much as he possible can during the two hours you spend on the restaurant. He sees you smile, and frown, and laugh, his heart racing at the joyous sound of your laughter. You are so beautiful. You are so full of life.

Anakin is so dull, or at least that's what he sees every day in the mirror.

It's been years since he has been on a date. Whatever experience he may have it probably faded with the years.

"I had fun" You speak, holding his arm when you two walk out of the restaurant. Anakin is relieved to know at least you enjoyed spending time with his old ass. "Thank you, and you didn't had to pay for everything, you know?"

"I know" He chuckles. "But I wanted to"

"I should get going. It's getting kinda late and I don't wanna bother you" You start, pulling out your phone from your purse and opening the uber app. Anakin just stares at you, frowning. "What?" You ask quizzically, giving him a curious look.

"I can give you a ride"

"Oh— it's okay! I don't want to bother—"

"It's not a bother, at all"

And he says it with the most sincere tone, his ceruleans irises staring deeply into yours... that you just can't refuse.

"Fine" You give in, squeezing your hand on his arm. Your smile is everything.

He opens the door for you, a gesture that you shouldn't find sweet but you do.

The city lights eclipse the stars, but not the moon. The full, yellow moon shines brightly on top of the tall buildings. For the first few minutes the car ride is silent, as you continue to stare to the moon.

"When Luke was a child he thought the moon was made out of cheese" Anakin says out of the blue, his eyes locked on the road. "And when Leia told him it wasn't, he cried for almost an hour"

Anakin glances at you from his peripheral, smirking when you laugh. He would do anything just to hear you laugh again.

The conversation blooms after that, and he's so sad the ride to your place isn't an hour long instead of 15 minutes.

The goodbye has him feeling awkward. Anakin doesn't know what to do. Should he kiss you? Would that be too much? A hug? That feels too clumsy inside the car. Just a wave feels too little...

His mind races a hundred kilometers per minute.

"Hey" Your voice drags him out of this trance. "I'm so glad we met" You place a hand on top of his, smiling fondly.

He eyes your makeup, did you really did that for him?

He finds himself admiring the color of your eyes, how your eyeshadow matches your skin tone perfectly, the pretty mole on your left cheek, and your lips, plump and soft and glistening with gloss.

"Me too" Anakin replies, mirroring your smile. "Whenever you want to go out again, just text me"

"I will" You nod, tilting your head to the side. "Good night, text me when you get home"

He doesn't want to go.

"I will, sleep well" Anakin feels like he should do something else, but his mind is blank.

Then, you lean closer.

Closer.

Closer.

His lips welcome yours almost instantly. The kiss is soft, a gentle touch he had no idea he was craving. Your lips taste like cherry, and when you close your eyes to kiss him he can't, he looks at your pretty expression and his heart jolts. His left hand cradles your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek.

When you pull away, Anakin has the urge to lean forward, to kiss you again, and never let go.

"Good night" You say one last time before walking down his car and walking towards your house.

Later that night, after he texts letting you know he got home safe, Anakin lays on his empty bed, staring at the ceiling, shirtless, with a storm of thoughts.

Of all the things Anakin Skywalker regrets from his life.

This isn't one.

And he can't wait to see you again.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker imagine #dilf!anakin #dilf!anakin Skywalker #modern au

[princesssmars]

something something riding karlach until she sees stars. 18+.

karlach is about ninety percent sure her engine is about to fucking explode. and one hundred of that ninety percent is all your fault. its no secret that you're beautiful, annoyingly perceived as so by pretty much everyone who meets you. she could tell when you first walked up to her from across that branch without fear, later telling her you already knew she wasn't the murderous psychotic devil everyone made her out to be. you listened to her story, defended her against wyll, and she could tell the irregular tick in her chest wasn't just her being nervous about facing probable death at the hands of the blade of frontiers himself.

(although if she had to die at your hands she wouldn't much mind. which is normal. in hindsight, she could also remember her subtly flirting with you. also normal.)

and she's so happy that despite your shared bundle of traumas and saving-the-world problems you could find some respite in each other. she's also really happy that as sweetly as she treats you you also understand how fucking horny she is after ten years of absolutely no contact and then meeting someone who is just as crazy for her as she is for them.

which is how she got to the current moment, her nails digging into your hips as you straddle her hips and rock yourself into her, each subtle glaze of your clit against hers bringing a strangled moan out of her throat.

she's not above begging, especially to you, but everytime she finds the ability to speak without releasing sounds of ecstasy she loses it in seconds. everything she's feeling is too overwhelming in the bestways possible, your hand running through her hair, the other palming at her breasts and bringing out very new and very embarrassing squeaks out of her, your legs squeezed around her waist which just brings her attention and eyesight back to the brief view she can get of your pussy when you pull your hips back before bringing them forward again.

she must have been hyper focused on the space between your legs because your hand is bringing her head back up with a giggle, asking her where she went with a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, smiling when her eyes close and her lips fold like shes holding herself back, the exact opposite of what you want her to do.

"'m sorry. i just...fuck, soldier, you're killing me here." she gasps, bringing your hand to her chest to feel her newy tuned engine, the heat growing by the second as the blue flames flicker across her skin.

"gods, you really are burning up. we cant stop if you want-" you start to pull your hips off of hers when her claws dig in harder and simultaneously force you down while she thrusts up, loud moans leaving both of you that make you very glad you put a spell over the area inside her tent.

she keeps going, thrusting her cunt into yours while you struggle to keep up, wrappong your arms around her neck when she lies flat on her back and spreads both of your legs further apart, your shared wetness making the glide of your cunts so much easier and all the hotter.

"dont stop, please dont stop. i'll die if you do."

you take a few seconds to catch yourself when her noises take on a more whiny approach, little 'fuck fuck fuck-'s whispered into your ear as she bucks her hips like a madwoman. with a sadistic smile you adjust your body so your nipples can rub over hers the same time you bite into her neck and with a strangled cry she comes, continuing to buck her hips until you fall apart on top of her.

you can feel her breathing slowing down beneath you, the heat of her engine cooling down to a comfortable heat. you start to move your head up to give her a smile and check up before you feel her hips move again, the feeling of your clit being overstimulated nearly making you cry. when you do get to look ather she already has her eyes focused on you, heavy lidded as harsh breaths escape her mouth.

"its starting to look like you'll die if i dont."

"well, i always knew id go out with a bang..."

teehee

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #karlach #tav x karlach #karlach x reader #karlach smut #karlach x reader smut

[ham1lton]

50 + jenson button where he goes to readers childhopd room and sees loads of photos of old f1 stars (and him)👀

050. a childhood home or bedroom w/ JB22.

— part of a series of drabbles! <3

you had been seeing jenson for a little while. he was seemingly perfect. you both got along incredibly well, he was funny and obviously very attractive so when your family asked if he could come along for your biweekly sunday dinner, you obviously said yes. if you’d known what was going to happen, you would have said no.

“is that me?” jenson laughed as he walked into your bedroom. you hadn’t been home in a while, so you had completely forgotten about your decor which comprised of young jenson, young lewis, young nico and young sebastian plastered all over your walls.

“i was young!” you attempted to defend yourself, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. why hadn’t your mother taken these down? but at least, you know that your parents were so out of touch with celebrity culture that they never would have thought that the jenson in the poster was the same one lounging on your hello kitty themed bed.

jenson grinned as he stepped closer to inspect the posters. "wow, i never knew i had such a dedicated fan," he teased, tracing a finger over his younger self's face.

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "i was a teenager! we all have our embarrassing phases."

he laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made your heart flutter. "it's kind of adorable, actually. but now i feel like i have a lot to live up to. do i still meet your expectations?"

you peeked through your fingers, meeting his playful gaze. "you've exceeded them, honestly."

just then, your mother called from downstairs. "dinner's ready! jenson, we're excited to get to know you!"

you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the evening ahead. "ready to face the family?"

jenson reached out, taking your hand in his. "as long as you're with me, i think i can handle anything."

as you both headed downstairs, you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. dinner started off well enough; your family was sweet and welcoming, and jenson's natural charisma shone through, easing your nerves.

but then, just as you were beginning to relax, your younger brother piped up. "you know, you look a lot like that racer dude on the posters in my sister's room."

your father's eyebrows shot up. "racer?"

before you could intervene, jenson chuckled and said, "it's true. i used to be a formula 1 driver."

there was a moment of stunned silence. your mother blinked in surprise, and your father's face split into a wide grin. "no kidding! my daughter has had those posters up since she was a kid. she was obsessed with racing!"

you cringed, wishing the ground would swallow you up. but jenson squeezed your hand reassuringly. "well, i guess you could say she has good taste."

your family laughed, and to your relief, the conversation shifted back to more mundane topics. as the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing again, especially as jenson handled your family's questions and quirks with ease.

later, as you walked him to his car, jenson turned to you with a smile. "your family is great. and the posters... well, they make me feel like i've been a part of your life for longer than i knew."

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "honestly? i'm just glad you didn't run for the hills.”

he hummed and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "not a chance. besides, who wouldn't want to date their biggest fan?"

#ham1lton’s drabbles 🝮 #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jb22 x reader

[yan-lorkai]

Hi💖

I saw that requests are open, so can I ask for Yandere Malleus following the reader back home? The reader's all relieved to be back, but bam! Turn around, and Malleus is chilling in their home. But, he's not there to drag them back to Twisted Wonderland. He just wants to be with them.

I don't know if I've requested too much, so if you don't want to write it, feel free to ignore this request. Thank you ✨

It's strange to be back after so much time passed, the silence it's almost eerie. But you're getting used to your routine again, to your world and home. On most nights you lay awake for a few minutes wondering how your friends are doing, what they must be doing right now. Do they look at the stars and thought about you? Do they reminisce the old days like you do?

And as you fall asleep, you dream of all your adventures, all the dangerous you passed through in that world. You dream of them, because as much as you wanted to go back to your world, to your family, they too became your precious friends and family and you miss them dearly.

However every recent dream had a strange aspect present in them. It started small, imperceptible. A dark, shadowy like figure with prominent horns almost blending together with your half open door, you could convince yourself that nothing's there if you focused hard enough. But with each night the shadow came closer, its face still hiding. Today, its hand held your own, almost as if it was unsure you were real, a sigh leaving its lips.

Back to reality, to normal life and normal, boring routine, you forgot everything as soon as you woke up. You focused on your work, on your friendships, on every simple little aspect of life here to ground yourself. You were home. Everything was alright and everything was going to stay this way. Or so you said to yourself.

You had to say it out loud. You had to say it so it was real. You could hold your phone and call your friends, you could meet them at your favorite place, it was real instead of just a wish. And you wished so hard to be back home, to be safe again, to not have to fight another overblot. And now was real. You were home.

Your shift ended, you took the bus back to home, tired, sleepy. You held a yawn on your throat as you noticed that your door was open, though you were certain that you locked it in the morning as you usually do. Maybe you should had called the police but months fighting overblots made you think you were invincible, immune to everything the world could still throw your way. With silent steps your enter the house, clutching your keys so to make a kinda of weapon to defend yourself, your heart skipping various beats as you explored it.

Silent as a kitty, you walked through the kitchen, the bathroom and your room. But a scent very specific made you haste your steps and sniff the air, so familiar, but it couldn't be. Then you heard someone moving on your living room, humming, exploring it with a childlike curiosity. And you knew who was in your home. But how?

"There you are," Malleus appeared at the door, smiling like he wasn't see you in a while. He was still the same as always, though he was wearing different clothes. He could almost blend with other people if wasn't for his horns. "I've been waiting for you for so long. I'm glad to see you again. I can see the days spent here brought back a glamour on your beautiful skin."

He smiled when he saw you speechless, his piercing gaze fixed upon you. Malleus was always a little odd even when you choose to indulge him and listen to his ramblings, but he was strange him, much more comfier, much more evading, as he was getting really closer and, different from usual, he choose to hug you tight, burying his face at your neck.

Panic threatened to overwhelm you, why was he here? If he could open a portal then why didn't he had helped you before? Did... Did he wanted to drag you back there? You didn't want to go back. You would punch him if he tried anything.

Something in Malleus' expression softened the tension in the air, he could almost seems to read your mind as he soon was explaining himself.

"I followed you," He admitted quietly, his voice rumbling like a very distant and lost thunder. He dragged his fingers up and down your neck, laughing when he saw you shiver. Then he let you go, don't wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Confusion mingled with apprehension as you braced yourself for the worst and prepared to fight him if necessary. But to you surprise, Malleus didn't move to drag you back to Twisted Wonderland as all the voices in your head were saying. Instead, he simply stood there, a gentle aura emanating from him. A very soft smile growing on his lips as he looked deep into your eyes.

"I just wanted to be here with you," He confessed, his tone vulnerable yet sincere. "I realized that I appreciated every moment spent with you and it would be egotistical of me to ask you to stay at Twisted Wonderland. Thus the best solution was for me come here and be with you again."

He sounded so proud of himself, so happy, almost like a puppy. Despite the initial shock, a small flicker of warmth blossomed within your chest. Maybe, just maybe, having Malleus in your home wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. But you quickly throw those thoughts away.

"You are the heir of throne." You stated as it wasn't obvious enough. He couldn't stay. Even if you wanted, his people needed him more. He thought otherwise as his smile soured a little.

"I took care of everything," His answer was strange, almost rehearsed. Your furrowed your eyebrows at his, wanting to inquiry further but he took your hand on his and kissed your knuckles. "Fret not for everything is alright and they all understood my motives. I'm a free man and I choose to be free at your side. So let me stay."

Please, that's what his eyes were saying to you. Please let me stay.

Well, would you let him stay? Or would you send him away? So many thoughts passed you by.

#twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere malleus #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x yuu #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus x mc #malleus x mc #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x yuu #malleus draconia x mc #lorkai imagine

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER FIVE — CHEERLEADERS MAKE BAD NEIGHBORS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: after you get kicked off the cheerleading squad by an enraged tina, you're stranded in a rainstorm of biblical proprtions- and the only safe haven is eddie munson's trailer. fuck. content warnings: MINORS DNI I'M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU HERE- male masturbation, sexualized language, some mild objectification, cursing, smoking, drinking, drug mention, reader backstory (i do it for the plot the plot the plot), steve harrington cameo, reader is a pretentious bitch word count: 10.1k

Dear reader, Joan Didion said something because Joan Didion is always saying something. Particularly to me. She comes at me hard, smacking me in the back of the head with perfect clarity and I have not gotten around to not resenting her for it yet. 

‘I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.’

Joan Didion probably did not have to stay on nodding terms with a girl she used to be in order to score a cheerleading scholarship because her family blitzed her college fund on ill-chosen legal advice. 

But she’s got a point.  

You remember that day with perfect clarity. 

Middle school had been a lesson in elocution, thanks to your then-best friend Phoebe’s older sister Casey. Phoebe was a relic of your former life– a bookish indoor kid with Coke bottle glasses, a slight stammer and a distinct lack of style. Despite this, you loved Phoebe and she loved you. But more than that, more than anything, you loved that Phoebe had an older sister. 

A cool older sister. 

Casey was popular in the best way, which is to say that she wasn’t showy about it but she wasn’t humble either. By recognizing the power of being hot and likeable, she knew nothing could ever touch her. 

You wanted to be just like that. 

You remember the first time Casey told you you’ve got potential. Her hand-me-downs were a little too big for Phoebe, because Casey had boobs and Phoebe’s hadn’t come in yet. Even as a pre-teen, you knew an opportunity when you saw it. Can I try that top? And you did, flipping your hair and adjusting yourself in the mirror just like you’d watched Casey do a hundred times, sitting on her bedroom floor and soaking up her knowledge while Phoebe moaned and sulked about being bored. 

Check you out, hot stuff, Casey had smirked, but not in a way where you felt stupid. You’ve got potential.

The shirt didn’t feel entirely right on you, but the way Casey regarded you did. 

Fast forward– your first day of freshman year. You were in the parking lot, stepping out of the passenger side of Casey’s car. Phoebe slid out of the back seat, shoulders slumped forward. You were dressed in an outfit that you and Casey spent hours agonizing over the night before–first impressions are everything, girl–while, again, Phoebe looked on glaring. 

Come meet some of the crew, Casey said, pointedly to you and not to Phoebe. 

Hey– I thought were were going to find our homerooms together, Phoebe protested, grabbing you by the elbow. She knew she wasn’t invited. And she didn’t care– she’d never cared for Casey and her ‘airhead ways’, as she so derisively called them. 

Yeah, girl! you affirmed, a note-perfect impression of her older sister. Phoebe’s big eyes flared with disbelief. You’d spent junior high carefully studying Casey’s every movement, absorbing and adopting her behaviors as your own. Stella Adler would have loved your ass. Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘kay?

Make a move, freshman! Casey yelled, and you came trotting after her. There would be no catching up later, and you knew that. You bit back the sinking in your stomach with a Bonne Bell-glossed smile. 

Look, I love my sister, Casey murmured, but I’m glad that you’re my little freshman experiment, ‘kay? You are way more fun that Phoebs and her goddamn library card. 

You nodded, wordlessly grateful. Way more fun. The older girl confiding in you like this made you feel warm, included, grown-up. But not quite so grown-up that you remembered to watch where you were going– the laces of your left Chuck Taylor All-Stars came undone, sending you tripping– tripping–

Oof! Right into the muscular arms of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington and his autumn colored eyes, his swathe of hair that seemed to grow more voluminous the more girls he flirted with, his shock of grown-up cologne and his perfect, perfect, perfect smile.

But it wasn’t just Steve Harrington. It was also all the surrounding popular kids that had already made a name for themselves coming up alongside you in middle school–Tina, Carol and her boyfriend Tommy Hagan–mingling with the older kids. 

You okay? Steve asked, his voice all breathy and cute the way boys voices are when they’re halfway making fun of you. 

Uh-huh, you nodded, lashes fluttering like crazy as you wracked your brain for something smart to say. 

Let me help you out here.

Then Steve did something you never thought possible, something right out of your daydreams. He got down on one knee and started to re-tie your shoe. 

Better watch yourself, Lacy, he said, tightening the bunny ears, gazing right up at you, Wiping out on the first day is not a good look.

Lacy. Lacy. Your heartbeat quickened at the nickname, hammering like hummingbird wings. It was the greatest thing you’d ever heard– it makes you feel fresh. New. Seen for the first time. Seen by Steve Harrington for the first time. 

Can you blame me? you said before you knew you were saying it; a common occurrence with you, You’re just too easy to fall for, Harrington. 

You drawled out too easy like you’re making fun of him, which of course you weren’t, because he’s Steve Harrington and you would never– but it earned some warm guffaws from the surrounding kids and a little ugh, please, from Tommy Hagan. 

Hagan’s something else. Hagan’s hated you since day dot, and you him. You remember his merciless teasing of some kid during Nancy Wheeler’s thirteenth birthday party, the last boy-girl party of your middle school careers, goading that they were too chicken to go into the closet with you for Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Steve grinned at you, eyebrows quirking upward. A fizzing feeling ran through your sternum and you felt like you might faint. Casey threw an arm around your shoulder, a magnet for attention. Well, it looks like some of you already know my little Lacy! You guys better be fuckin’ cool to her, okay, or else you’ve got me to answer to. 

You smiled up at her, the older sister you’d always prayed for, and she looked impressed with you. That’s all you wanted. That’s all you craved. That, and for Steve Harrington and everybody else to never quit calling you Lacy. 

And they didn’t.

Everything you’d gleaned from Casey equipped you to cruise through freshman year with no speedbumps, no checkpoints– you knew exactly how to wear your hair, how to flirt, how not to flirt, what not to eat, who not to be seen with… and even better than that, these people really took a shine to you. The girls especially.

Hawkins isn’t kind to teenage girls. It’s heavy with passive-aggressive Midwestern sensibility, with all the backwards, misogynistic attitude that comes along with that. It’s not overt, it’s insidious. It makes sense that these girls were scared. Few women make it out of here, and look at the ones that don’t. Their mothers. Your mother.

But what was even scarier was to want something more. To strive for better and be met with the begrudgery of your attempt. To think about life outside the snowglobe of this wicked little town. 

That's the thing with wanting. It doesn’t leave you alone. It gnaws at you while you zone out in the cafeteria, churning around with the half fat yogurt in your stomach. It finds you in the middle of the night, awake on the floor of your friend Carol’s room after an evening of pounding secret wine coolers and picking apart the rest of the Hawkins student body for their flaws and faults, looking around at your friends and thinking, 

God, I fucking hate these people. God, I’ve got to get out.

And you were working on it. Like a motherfucker, you were working on it– perfect grades, perfect attendance, the perfect extracurriculars in an excruciating balancing act with your demanding social life. Keep your record spotless and you could fly the coop to any college you wanted.

One such extracurricular was–is cheerleading. And god, you were great. You’re a flyer, one of the shining, pretty faces responsible for revving up the Hawkins Tigers and their adoring fans. Given your propensity for perfectionism, it’s an obvious position for you. Tina, the reigning captain of the cheer squad, had even taken you under her wing and spit shined up your back handsprings when you tried out as a freshman. Tina had a prior career as a child gymnast, making her a shoo-in for the title come senior year. And here she is now, hollering you all into formation. 

It’s Thursday, and it’s still the week from hell. You had almost forgot about cheer practice, but here you are, in your green and white and gold, ponytail too tight and bruise fading out. The tension between you and Tina casts a thick haze over the gym, the other, less-clued-in members of the squad not exactly knowing where to look. 

It probably wasn’t fair, outing Tina and her indiscretion with Hagan like that. But you felt like a cornered animal. It was all you could do, after all of them subtly chipping away at you for weeks when you’d done nothing but be there for them. Wiped their tears. 

Bought their crabs lotion, in Tina’s case. 

“Sloppy, Lacy! Again!” She’s drilling you like you’ve never been drilled before. Each twist and flip you perform, she finds something wrong with it– and you can’t even tell her she’s wrong. You have gotten sloppy, because your head’s not in the game. While cheerleading was a social and athletic high at one time, it wasn’t high on your list of priorities right now. Dismounting your bases and tugging your ponytail ever tighter over your skull, you stalk towards her. 

“Alright, Tina!” you yell, bubbling over with frustration. “How about you just drop the Russian gym coach bit and tell me what I’m doing wrong? Or is yelling at me all you got?” 

She does her best attempt at a withering glare. You can’t help but think it looks like something she learned from you. “How about I show you instead?”

Tina shoulder checks you, hard, and calls to one of the underclassmen. A mousy sophomore with sandy bangs and blazing Bambi eyes. This kid looks terrified, and knowing Tina’s reputation, she should be. “Cunningham! You’re up!”

Chrissy Cunningham. Right. Heir to the throne of Hawkins High. You don’t think you’ve heard her speak more than a couple of words and most of those have been in response to her Aryan meathead boyfriend, Jason Carver. 

But for what Cunningham lacks in vocal force, she makes up for in aerodynamics. This girl makes a basket toss look like ballet, ponytail pirouetting as she lands in the bases’ arms. Every move, faultless. She’s locked in. 

“That is what I want. What I don’t want, Lacy, is a flyer that looks like she’s losing control of her rectum mid-toss,” Tina hollers. “We all know how crucial this weekend is. Not just for us, but for the Tigers, too. Right? So that means the last thing we need is dead weight dragging us down.” She locks her laserlike stare on you. “Right?”

The squad mumbles in the affirmative. Chrissy Cunningham visibly gulps.

And you? A knife slices right through you, cold and exacting. You almost gag, trying to swallow through your thickening throat. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“You tell me, Lace. You’re the one that knows everything.”

You don’t waste a second of time trying to counter-argue, because you can’t be sure it won’t end in your limbs flailing, trying to smash Tina’s head against the waxed floorboards of the gym. Instead, you grab your bag. You give the squad a grimacing nod and head to heave the double doors open. 

The sound of your sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor makes you want to tear your shoes off and throw them through a window, just to watch the glass shatter.

You really never thought of yourself as a violent person, not until– everything happened. 

But now, god, now you just want to punch and tear and rip everything apart. This slow burn of your social status, your friends, your tether to reality as you know it slipping away is torturous. You’d rather burn it all up than let it swallow you whole. 

Standing on the front steps of the school, your eyes automatically dart to the parking lot. 

It’s not there. He’s not there.

And why would he be? you think, starting in the direction of the trailer park. You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in the record store, leaving him hanging with his hands behind his back and his mouth in that grin.

There was a reason for that. Call it post-high clarity or something else, but you knew right then you needed to focus the fuck up. Quit acting out because of your daddy’s mistakes and prove all of these shitheels wrong once and for all. 

Blend in. Stop causing trouble. Fall in line and study hard and cheer harder and get the hell out of dodge once you get your hands on that high school diploma. By whatever means necessary. Those means really did not include hanging out with Eddie Munson for even a second longer than you already had. 

–which is a nice thought and all, but Tina really shit all over that one with this shedding the dead weight move. 

The clouds above you carry the most pathetic of pathetic fallacies, gray and pregnant with rain that starts to hit you square on the crown of your head in fat, heavy drops. You’re still fifteen minutes from the trailer park, at least, and you don’t have a raincoat. You don’t have an umbrella. And you don’t fucking care.

You stomp up the dirt drive leading into Forest Hills, the pleats of your green skirt heavy with water, your cheerleader’s cardigan weighing down your shoulders. Your white knee-high socks are flecked with mud and getting dirtier with every sloppy step. And the rain, the relentless relentless rain, is streaming into your eyes, streaming mascara with it. 

You gasp against the cold of the downpour as you approach your trailer– and a glowing yellow light catches in your peripheral vision. His bedroom, the one you can see into from your bedroom. Though you try not to look. And sometimes you fail. 

You don’t see much, when you do look. It’s mostly his hunching figure, bent over his guitar or some binder or book or map or figurine. But he always seems calmer, the frenetic energy he wears around like chainmail finally falling to the floor. Watching him like that makes you want to breathe a sigh of relief right along with him, just to see if you’d feel similarly. Calmer. 

Calm is not how you feel right now, wiping the rain from your face as you dig in your bag for your keys. Once, twice, thrice they slip out of your hands, and on the fourth try, you finally get them in the door. And then– the key strains in the lock. Come on. This door has always been unnecessarily sticky, but this wasn’t really the time– you push and you push the silver key to the left with no give. 

Was your mom in there? Had she left her key in the door by accident before she went on another overnighter with Prince Valium? “Mom! Mom!” you yell, hammering on the door. No dice. You pull at the key again, and pull and pull and– 

Snap.

You shudder, a full body shake that’s only partially down to the rainwater that’s soaked you right to the bone marrow. The key has snapped off in the lock, leaving you standing there with a useless silver nub. 

“Fuck!” you holler, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuck! Fucking–shit!” 

Your fists go straight to the side of the trailer, banging one after the other against the metallic veneer. You don’t care that it hurts your knuckles, you want it to dent or crack or something, you want to not feel so impotent and fucking useless, but here you are! 

“Hey! Asshole!”

Your head whips around, heavy, sodden ponytail smacking you in the face. 

Eddie Munson is leaning out his bedroom window, barely visible through the downpour. 

“Keep it down! You’re in a residential goddamn area!” He’s not smiling that shiteating smile. He’s not even grinning. He’s just glowering at you, which is the look you’re most accustomed to seeing him wear. Even so, it feels– it feels– it makes you feel worse. 

“Fuck you!” you scream across to him, “Who died and made you the fucking neighborhood watch?!”

“Go inside, you lunatic!”

“My fucking– my key broke off, dickhead!” 

That makes his brow loosen a little bit. You just stand there, gasping in the rain. And then he disappears from the window–

–only to fling open the front door of his trailer. 

“Come on,” he grumbles, massaging the space between his eyebrows like he can’t believe what he’s fucking doing. 

“No.” 

“What? Cut the shit, Lacy, come inside.” 

“No! I don’t want to!” 

Munson’s face opens up in an expression of sheer incredulity– and you partially can’t believe yourself either. What is it about him that just makes you shove and shove and shove, unable to let him win– or in this case, unable to let him help? 

“Fine! Fucking drown out there for all I care!” The trailer door slams.

Your teeth have started to chatter, and your options from here on out are… walk or hitch your way back to town and drag your sodden ass somewhere there’s a phone where you then call your mom and pray she’ll pick up (she won’t) and tell her about the lock and try to tell her about the cheerleading squad and pray she’ll understand how upset you are (she won’t) and how much of an awful spiral this whole year has become and it’s not even Christmas yet and–

The trailer door swings back open. 

Eddie Munson comes stalking out into the rain, white Reeboks splattering mud everywhere. He’s wearing that shirt from his Dungeons and Dragons club, the one with the big fucking smug Satan splayed across it and you wonder, did he model that after himself? 

“What’s your fucking problem?” he asks, point blank. It feels like he’s aiming something at you. 

“I’m having a shitty fucking day!” you scream in response, making that dog belonging to that red headed kid sister of Billy Hargrove’s yap somewhere in the distance. “And I keep telling you, I don’t need your fucking–”

“Help? Right!” he scoffs, loud and indignant, crossing his arms across his chest. The fabric of the ringer tee is changing color before your eyes, clinging to him. “You don’t need my help yet you always take it, you don’t wanna be seen with me yet you end up at my lunch table, in my van, smoking my weed– you know, it may shock you but I’m not exactly thrilled to be seen with you either, Lacy! I mean, playing chauffeur to a grade A certified bitch that wouldn’t give me the time of day unless she was desperate? Who stood by and let her shitty friends, who aren’t even her friends anymore, make mine and my friends’ life a living hell for how many years? What kind of an asshole does that make me? How pathetic is that?” 

The way he spits the word bitch– it was different from the way he said it in the record store. There, it felt like a come-on. A compliment. Here, it feels like a curse. But oh, he doesn’t stop there! You are rooted to the spot, an unmoving target for his justified rage. 

“You can’t even play ignorant, y’know, because I’ve seen you. You’re smarter than them. You know how godawful those people are–Harrington, Carver, Carol, fucking Hagan worst of all–and you just let ‘em run. Because you needed that status, you needed to be the most evil fucking twat at the twat table, and for what? They left you, Lacy! They all left you!” 

You’re not sure at what point in his speech you started sobbing but at its crescendo, you yelp. It’s a high, pathetic sound you wish you could stuff back inside your throat and hopefully choke yourself with. See, you know all these things. You’ve told them to yourself in your most honest moments, of which there are not many, but having Eddie Munson lay them out for you in the pouring rain– it’s horrible. You’re horrible. 

Eddie’s arms move from where they were bound on his chest. Okay, that was an outburst, sure, but he didn’t mean to make you cry. And you’re like, really crying. He can’t stand it when girls cry, and you, in particular–you, having never displayed much emotion beyond bemusement and annoyance and mild disgust toward him–is especially frightening. 

And then you let out this scream. It comes right from the center of your chest, rumbling and primal and visceral and real. It’s a real noise, not one you put careful, curative thought into, tuning it just right before you let it out. Because in this instance, he’s right! You’ve worked so hard, and for what! For fucking nothing! For it to blow up in your face! So you let out another howl– and it feels so, so good. A feeling of satisfaction, more than a feeling of relief–

–so Eddie screams too. God, that feels fantastic.

His is heavier than yours, obviously, because he’s a guy and he probably screams as a hobby in whatever metal band he supposedly plays in. But you like that sound. You like the way it seems to ring off the exteriors of the trailer, ricocheting around like a pinball in its machine. 

A couple more painful sobs escape you, and Eddie’s taking tentative steps toward you, like you’re a snarling animal he’s trying to coax. 

In ways, you are, but that’s because you feel hunted. You have to blink, through tears and through rain, but you see that his shirt is so soaked that it’s see-through. You can see a vague suggestion of a tattoo on his chest. You see that he’s fighting a smile. 

This is so stupid. This is so ridiculous, that you could make a noise like that and completely short circuit the white hot anger he was spewing at you. 

“Come inside,” he breathes, a little less than a foot of space between you, “You lunatic.”

Your head, so heavy on your neck, so heavy from crying, so heavy from carrying your spiteful brain around, falls against his chest. 

“Uhh…” Eddie mumbles, hands hovering behind your back, not sure if he’s supposed to embrace you or if you’re about to rip his heart out of his chest. Either could be true. 

You know what you’d prefer. 

You’re positive he doesn’t here you exhale into his chest, into the mouth of the cartoon Satan, into the thrum of his jumping heartbeat. Sorry. I’m really… I’m so sorry.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “hey. Shit.” His hand finally rests in between your shoulder blades. You let him guide you inside, and he even picks up the book bag you had thrown in the mud. You reach, try to grab it from him, but he yanks it out of your grasp. Half teasing, half assuring you that it’s okay.

A squeaky, squelching silence settles between you two as you stand in his doorway. You’re creating a puddle near some old work boots. You wonder if they’re his– you’ve never seen him not wear those Reeboks. 

“So… welcome,” he cringes, emitting a pitchy, awkward laugh. You follow him through to the kitchenette, which is identical to your kitchenette, except every surface is not covered in legal correspondence or empty wine bottles or too-expensive tchotchkes. The light in here seems dimmer, warmer. There’s a distinct aroma of stale cigarette smoke and old coffee, which you breathe in deep. “Sorry for the mess–”

“It’s fine. It’s good mess,” you say, a little distant. You peer around the place like you’re in a gallery. 

“Good mess?” he queries, crossing to the kitchen sink where he attempts to wring his shirt out by hand– still wearing it. 

“Lived-in mess,” you say. What you mean is, it doesn’t look like a mausoleum of a life someone left behind. A storage locker. A haphazard sarcophagus. Before you moved to the trailer, your house was so clean– that was a whole other problem. The same tchotchkes that are scattered on your counter were kept behind glass, only touched when your mother polished them, the only housework she ever did. You stare at a collection of trucker hats nailed along the living room wall, the shelf of novelty mugs that accompanies them. 

“Living in mess? What is that, like living in filth? You better start showing this fine abode some respect before–”

“Lived. In. Munson, I said, lived in if you would just listen– it’s good, it’s fine. It’s n-nice.” 

It’s warm in the trailer, you can tell, but you’re shivering. You bear down in your body, jaw all set so your teeth don’t start chattering again, but he hears it in your voice. 

“Uh-oh,” he says, somehow not at all betraying any signs of being out in the freezing rain except for being entirely soaked. You bet his skin is still running hot, like you felt through his shirt, like you felt grabbing his wrist. “Star cheerleader’s coming down with a case of hypothermia. Right before the big game!” 

He slaps his hands to his cheeks in mock horror. 

“I’m–” you’re about to tell him a couple things; one, that you’re fine which would be stupid, because you are so clearly not fine; two, you’re not the star cheerleader anymore; and a third, forgotten thing. “--cold,” is what you settle on. It sounds small, vulnerable.

Eddie holds his breath for a second. You sound so delicate. Hard, terrible you.

“No, sure, of course you are,” he fumbles. The way his wet hair has flattened to his skull makes him look younger– exposing a nervous boy behind the metalhead posturing. “You can– take a shower. If you want. To warm up.” 

Take a shower. In Eddie Munson’s trailer. Your eyelids flutter closed, taking on their own vibrations from the wracking of your body. This is a hell of my own making. “Yes. Sure. Thank you.”

“I can also,” he starts, crossing the kitchen again and knocking something over on his way– it just clatters to the floor, whatever it was, and he lets it, like he’s used to leaving crashing sounds in his wake. “I can take your clothes if you want. Put ‘em in the washer.” 

You hesitate a beat, then follow him down a hallway. 

“I probably have something you can wear,” he says. There’s a note in his tone that’s high and nervous. “You’re for sure gonna hate it, but hey– beats freezing to death.” 

“Just barely,” you murmur. 

“Huh?”

“This, uh– this is dry-clean only,” you correct yourself, gesturing to the uniform. 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course. Only the best for the pom-pom shakers.” 

He ducks into a room that must be his bedroom, but you don’t follow him. Instead, you linger in the hallway, near the dingy bathroom, staring at the corn themed wall calendar. Going into his bedroom feels too personal– too intimate, as if preparing to take a shower in Eddie Munson’s trailer only to change into his clothes isn’t intimate. 

“I figured,” he says, emerging from the bedroom with clothes and a towel in hand, “since you like all that rinky-dinky-tinkly garbage, you wouldn’t hate wearing a Stooges shirt.” 

“I–” the shirt is soft under your wrinkled fingers, as are the boxers he passes off to you. Boxers. You hold them up between your forefinger and thumb, stepping into the bathroom. “These are clean, right?”

Eddie stares at you for a second– then leans his head into the bathroom and shakes his sopping locks at you, just like a dog. You let out a shriek that he thinks almost sounds like an involuntary giggle. I’ll take it.

“No comment!” And he slams the door on you. 

Then you’re standing. In Eddie Munson’s trailer. In Eddie Munson’s bathroom. Holding his old Stooges shirt and his boxers, with mascara running down your face. 

You pinch yourself, hard, just in case. 

The shower heats up quick–quicker than yours, you notice–and you rest your head against the tile as the steam swirls up around you. This is so weird. This is so fucking weird, and you can’t scrub away the weirdness fast enough. There’s not enough Irish Spring in the world. You reach into the shower caddy to replace the bottle and notice something familiar– wait, that’s–

Wait. 

Do you and Eddie Munson use the same brand of shampoo? 

You had to switch from your favorite to the best that the Big Buy had to offer, given the change in your personal means, and this was the top score in terms of quality. Eddie Munson apparently agrees– but better yet, you realize as a grin spreads across your face, Munson uses women’s shampoo. 

It’s nice to have a fresh piece of arsenal to aim at him once you get out of the shower. 

Toweling off and changing, you do give the boxers a wary sniff before you put them on– but luckily, they smell like generic detergent and aren’t stiff in any way. So you slide them on.

They fit snugly– naturally, given he’s all sinewy and you have hips. He is really sinewy, now that you think about it. 

His wrist wasn’t bony, but it was active. Tendons flexing under the thin, soaked layer of his shirt. You wonder, absently, was that a tattoo you saw. What is it. What does it look like. Is it shitty. It’s his, so it’s probably shitty, but I want to see it. Does he have any more. 

You shiver, slipping the Stooges t-shirt on, and blame your hardening nipples on the cold.

The cheer outfit is another problem. You emerge from the bathroom, clutching the still-sodden uniform with Eddie’s– Munson’s towel thrown over your shoulder. 

“Do you have, like, a garbage bag or something?” you ask, eyes rising to look at him where he stands in the doorframe of his room. He’s still in his soaked clothes. 

He takes a second to answer you, and when he does, his voice is all thick. Avoiding eye contact. 

“Suuure,” and he disappears and reappears with a plastic bag, quick as a blink. 

“Thanks.” You dump the uniform, sneakers and all, into the bag and make for the door. 

“Hey, it’s still raining–” his voice follows you, as if you hadn’t heard the raindrop gunshots hitting the trailer roof. 

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’. You yank Munson’s door open and fling the garbage bag outside. It lands squarely between your trailer and his. 

Munson appears over your shoulder, looking out at the garbage bag. His face is twisted in confusion, concern, curiosity. 

“I got kicked off,” you explain, plain as biscuits. 

“Off the pom pom squad?” he whispers, eyes flaring in surprise that you think might actually be real. You’re looking at his lashes again, fanning around the almost-perfect circles of his eye sockets. 

“The very same.”

“Escándalo. What happened?”

“How about you go and shower first,” you suggest, poking a finger into his chest. He makes a little breathy noise, a little ‘unh’, that you don’t… hate. “Can’t have the star dork of the make believe board game club catch his death, can we?” 

“Anything happens to me and you’re the prime suspect, babe,” he grins and snaps the towel off your shoulder. 

“Hey!”

“This is the last clean one. What am I, a fuckin’ Rockefeller?”

-

Christ, he wants to jerk off into this towel but he knows that’s weird. That’s perverted. That’s fucked up. That’s everything everyone says about him and that’s everything you make him feel. 

So he strips, turns the hot water to scalding and furiously rubs one out down the drain. One, because he feels bizarre about leaving you alone among all of his things for too long and two, because hot water is in short supply. 

And three, because he’s achingly rock hard at the sight of you in his boxers, tossing your cheerleading outfit into the mud and the wet. 

The metaphors. The implications. The feeling of your forehead against his chest. The stab of your finger in his sternum. 

He cums jaggedly, almost silently, with his mouth rammed against his forearm. 

If you heard him– God, you’d be so nasty about it. God, he’d never live it down. God, he’d love to know what you’d say.

He makes damn quick work of sudsing up and rinsing down, wrapping a towel around his waist– only to run into you as he’s coming out of the bathroom. 

You stare. You stare at him, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and all the blood drains away from his brain. Again.

“Stare much?” he sneers, but only just about. Because his first instinct is to drop the towel and give you an eyeful. See what you’d do– hopefully something with your mouth. God, he hopes it’d be something with your mouth. 

“Where are your smokes?” you snap back. “I know you have some.”

“Kitchen. There’s probably–,” he needs you to stop looking at him like that; like you’re going to snap his neck, “--kitchen.”

Eddie slams his bedroom door and smacks his face with three quick strikes. “Come on, man! Get it together!” 

Because it’s go time. 

He has to formulate some kind of plan. 

He hadn’t exactly thought ahead when he invited you inside–or, demanded you come inside–and since you now had no place to go and Wayne had specifically told him not to go near you and your boobs were stretching out his dad’s old Stooges t-shirt…

Christ. 

He’s entirely, massively, completely at a loss. Eddie paces around the room like an animal in panic, grabbing a Scorpion shirt and some worn flannel pants as he goes. 

“Like, I’m supposed to go out there and do what? Ask her to hang out? Fucking paint her nails, read Cosmo? Study?! Jesus!” he angrily mumbles to his reflection, tearing the towel away and tugging his t-shirt over his sopping hair. “Hey, Lacy, you wanna beer? Who am I, Steve fucking Harrington? Jesus, Jesus, Jesus Christ, dude!”

“Munson. Are you talking to me in there?” He hears your voice from a minute distance away– see, that’s the thing about trailers. Small space, thin walls, and Eddie Munson’s voice travels at super speed. 

He stops, seizing, cringing, shoulders hitching up to his ears. 

That was not enough time to formulate a plan. 

Eddie, jankily tugging his pants on, sweeps out to the kitchenette area like something is chasing him and stops dead when he sees you. You haven’t trashed the place. You haven’t even tried to stick your head in the oven, two things he was kind of concerned about given the way you were wailing outside. 

You’re standing in the middle of the room with your hip cocked out, smoking a stolen cigarette and studying his uncle’s trucker hat collection. 

All the air in the room seems to orbit around you like a tornado in slow motion. 

How is it that you make an old shirt and boxers look like a skirt set? How is it that you can be sobbing your lungs out one minute, then the picture of poise and sophistication the next? 

All that air and none left for Eddie to take a breath.

“Hey, Lacy,” he strains, “you wanna beer?” 

“What,” you purr– like, he’s so sure that you actually purr, “You mean you’re all out of Sancerre?”

He does not know what the hell that is, but he can only assume it’s some rich people bullshit– and he’s relieved. You’re mocking him. At least that’s some tether to normalcy. She’s baa-aack. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, not entirely meaning it, but if he beams right at you he’s going to give the game away. 

“Think fast!” He tosses a can of the cheapest beer available at the Big Buy your way and you just about catch it, hands above your head and the cigarette dangling out of your mouth like Keith Richards. 

“God, Munson,” you mumble around the filter, “What kept you off the basketball team?” 

“Half a brain and a big dick,” he smirks, cracking the pull top and snatching the soft pack of cigarettes you’d left on the countertop. You cross from the living room, propping yourself up on the counter stool in a fluid movement that can only be described as feline. 

“Well, we sure can account for one of those things,” you say, ashing with your right hand and tapping at your temple with your left. 

“And the other?” Eddie asks, voice dropping a mocking octave. 

“I’d sooner drink arsenic than find out.”

He raises his beer can to you. “In that case, cheers!”

Your mouth twists around a smile and Eddie can see you’re fighting hard to keep it at bay. And that you’re losing. You tip your beer to your lips and he braces his elbows on the counter, looking around for a lighter. He spots a Bic, but the trigger won’t light it– just sparks, no flame. 

“That thing’s dead,” you say, “I lit this off the toaster.” 

“Oh! Right,” Eddie goes to turn, but something chilly snaps to his forearm. Your fingers. Damn. What is it with you? Circulation thing or what?

“Don’t do that,” you shake your head. “I don’t trust you not to burn the whole trailer down.”

“This is my trailer, y’know.”

“Yeah, and I’m in it. So burn it down on your own time.”

You motion for him to light his cigarette off the half-burned length of yours and Eddie tentatively places the filter between his lips. You prop yourself up on the stool, ass raised from the seat, leaning toward him. He leans in too and you cup that little hand with the perfectly painted fingers around the cigarettes. Like you’re whispering a secret. You look down, focusing on making fire, but Eddie’s eyes follow the tiny crease of your brow, the slope of your nose. The little wipe of mascara still underneath your eye. 

Tips touch and Eddie inhales just as you do. The cherried ends of the smokes glow orange and you pull back and Eddie just stays there a moment, frozen with the now-lit ember hanging out of his mouth. 

You pull back and inhale that smoke like one of those chicks from those black and white movies Wayne is always watching. You exhale all daintily, in one perfect clouding stream. You’re all– you’re so–... 

“Fucked,” you groan, shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I am so fucked.” 

Eddie finally tugs the cigarette from his mouth, filter gone a little soft with the low-level salivating he’d been doing. “Oh. The cheerleader shit?”

“Yes, Munson. The cheerleader shit.” 

“What happened, anyway?” He resumes the position of being elbow-up on the countertop, which incidentally brings him a little bit closer to you. Incidentally. “You crack some skulls this time?”

“Huh,” you chuckle emptily, “Almost. Um, Tina more or less took me out at the knees. Which, I understand of course. If I were her, I would have obliterated me, but–” 

“You’re not her, and it doesn’t feel awesome to be on the other end of obliterated,” Eddie nods, giving you a squint-eyed pout of mock-sympathy. “Poor Lacy. Getting shitkicked by the consequences of her own actions.”

Thunk! You punch him in the shoulder, which hurts and he gasps, but it’s so funny and categorically unladylike coming from you. These little peals of violence that keep coming off you are a seemingly bottomless source of amusement for him. 

She’s so funny-looking when she’s mad. 

“Fuck off!” you bark, as if reading him like a goddamn horoscope, but there’s a glimmer to your narrowed stare. “I got replaced by a sophomore, as if I needed an insult topping on that injury shitshake.” 

“Oh, she Old Yeller’d your ass!” Eddie gasps again, chuckling heartily, “Took you out back and–” He mimes blowing your brains right out, nailing you right through the forehead. You stare at him square, unimpressed. “Who usurped ya?”

“Chrissy Cunningham.”

Oh. Well, isn’t that interesting. Eddie’s lips flatten into a straight line and he makes a little mmh sound. And you pick up on that immediately, being that you’re annoyingly perceptive. 

“Munson! Come on!” 

“What? Whaaat? I didn’t say anything!”

“That’s a child.”

“That is a sophomore and you said so yourself. Besides…” he trails off, pointedly crushing the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray until it’s oversquished. “...we have history.”

If his cigarette extinguishing was pointed, yours is needle sharp with the way you crush it into the ashtray right next to the remnants of his. 

“Go on,” you hum, just like you did in the van that last night. I really wanna know. It’s conspiratorial and intoxicating and makes it feel like you’re on his side, which you know he’s not but it’s so, so tasty to think that for a second you might be. 

Is this how you make everyone feel? Lull ‘em into a false sense of security? Hoard your ammo and go apeshit later? 

Eddie draws back, nearly congratulating himself for doing so. “That’s for me to know, and you to die ignorant.” 

The way your lips pop open is almost too good, your little doll face turning to a mask of betrayal too quick for you to hide it. Too quick for you to be all like fine! Keep it to yourself! You’re both totally irrelevant anyway! or whatever other bitchy retort you’re bound to come up with. 

“Wow. Well, if that holds any water, Carver’ll shit,” you start, sipping on your beer, “His little virgin Mary deflowered by the devil’s first alternate.” 

“Hey, I never said–!” Fuck. Fuck! How do you do that! Eddie pinches his lips together as you smirk over the rim of the beer can, all stuck under your gaze. Fly in the spider’s web. 

“A-ha,” you say, irritatingly smoothly. “So nothing happened. She’s just spank bank material.” 

“Didn’t– say that either,” Eddie mumbles, mind going annoyingly blank under your rapid fire tearing and the inebriating way you’re delivering it. He hates this and he has no intention of telling you to stop. The duality of man. 

“Didn’t not say that, though.” 

“You oughta be a lawyer,” he tells you, swigging deep, “the way you find a loophole in everything.”

“The way you want me to get you off, you mean.” 

You come out with that, something so incendiary, oh-so-casually and slip off your seat. She can’t just do that. You’re padding around the living room again, bare footed and small-looking, but Eddie’s staring at you like you’re a hand grenade with the pin missing that also has the secret to everlasting life inside. Terrified. Fascinated. 

A little stiff.

“What?” he breathes, but doesn’t really want you to answer the question. 

And you don’t, you just keep looking around the living room with your arms crossed over your chest. “You need money to be a lawyer, Munson. To go to law school. To go to any school. And I don’t have that. And I foolishly figured getting a cheerleading scholarship would be a cinch of a backup plan, and now I can’t do that either.”

“What are you looking for?” he asks, finally willing his dick down and his legs to work, rounding into the living room with you. 

“Your, like… stereo, or record player, or something,” you murmur, smoothing down his boxers over your hips. “It’s too quiet in here.”

Eddie blinks. What should really happen is he should say, no, stay out here in the silence, you insolent wench. Think on your crimes. Reflect. Repent. Stop being such a bossy little ballbreaker and give my balls a break.

“Room. Uh– it’s in my room,” is what he says instead. 

“‘kay,” is all you say with a little shrug of your shoulder, grabbing your can from the counter and padding down the hallway toward that same bedroom. His bedroom. Eddie Munson’s bedroom with his bed and his shit in it. “Let’s go.”

How irregular does your heartbeat have to get before you classify it as a cardiac event?

-

There’s only so many times you can flagellate yourself with the ol’ what the fuck are you doing thing before it becomes redundant.

Songs get overplayed, nail polish color gets overused, trends die. Things become redundant all the time, and you discard them. 

The notion of what the fuck are you doing in Eddie Munson’s trailer in Eddie Munson’s boxers walking towards Eddie Munson’s bedroom has become redundant because you simply are doing all those things. Not much point in questioning them. The chips have fallen. 

An eerie calm had come over you when he was in the shower and you were staring at all of these trucker hats on the wall– if the insanity is temporary, you might as well lean into it. You can’t go anywhere else. You’re trapped. Might as well get comfortable.

“God, this place is filthy, Munson.” You, with your arms still bound across your chest, toe a discarded t-shirt out of your path as you move into the bedroom with that same reserved interest of a gallery-goer. The place is cluttered, posters and flyers and doodles torn out of notebooks tacked up on the wall in total disarray. Every surface area is covered in what could be organized chaos, but knowing Munson the little that you do, you doubt it. 

To test the theory, you ask, “Where are your records? Tapes, anything?”

But he’s just lingering in the doorway, chewing on the end of a lock of hair. Watching you stand in the middle of the room with astronaut eyes, unblinking. It’s kind of– sweet, in a deeply unnerving way. He looks like a kid. 

Your brow furrows, grimace turning your lips into a point.

“Fine. Ogle me like a goddamn lobotomy patient, then.”

You resume your perusing of his things, when you spot the most precious piece of hardware hanging by the mirror. A marbled black and red body fashioned into nasty spikes. You reach out to give the strings an aimless thrum but your wrist is rapidly snatched away. 

“Nuh-uh. That’s where I draw the line,” Munson says, shuffling you away from the guitar like a security guard. A flash of something as your calves hit his mattress– him shepherding you toward your own bed, you drunk out of your gourd. “Siddown.”

And you sit, bouncing against the sinking mattress on impact. Rubbing at the spot on your wrist that his fingers had been squeezing. Staring up at him glowering down at you. “Ow.”

And Munson, it turns out, knows where everything is in his nuclear fallout of a room. He shoves a shoebox of tapes into your hands and nudges a bigger milk crate full of records nearer to you with his foot. 

“Knock yourself out,” he huffs, flinging himself face-down on the mattress next to you. You jerk; always the court jester, this guy. “Not that you’re gonna find anything you want to listen to.” 

A scoff flies out of your mouth before you’ve got a chance to suppress it– he’s gotta know, right? He’s gotta know he can’t just say shit like that to you without you fully activating that I can do anything you can do better–backwards–bleeding–in heels chip in your brain. You’ll show him. There’s nothing that matters to you more in the world right now than showing him. 

Though, rattling through his box of tapes, each one bearing a different variation of hot chick and the Devil artwork, you’ve got your work cut out for you. W.A.S.P. Mercyful Fate. Dirty Rotten Imbeciles. Witchfinder General. Some band that’s literally just called Loudness, for Chrissake. As you flick and flick, hope wavering, one catches your eye. There’s a jump in your throat. Scrawled letterhead against a draped satin background. A photo of something you always figured was a headless marble statue, though you could never be sure. 

“Why do you have this?”

No response from the corpse of Munson, presumably smothered by his own comforter.

“Hey!” you tap the back of his skull with the plastic casing. One eye appears, glaring up at you from the mattress. Rattle rattle goes the Cocteau Twins tape as you shake it in its case. “Thought this was haunted doll music.” 

“Ow.” Munson slowly raises himself onto his elbows, looking like he’s about to start kicking his legs in the air behind him. Twirling his hair around his finger. A grin is edging onto his lips, lips he’s pulling strands of hair away from. 

“Sometimes the five finger discount chooses you.” 

A feeling akin to heat spreads rights across your breastbone. You want to pry, secretly. You want an explanation. Why would you take that? Do you like me, or something? But asking speaks it into existence, and the insanity is temporary, and you’re so waiting for dawn to break on it so you can resume some hobbled together semblance of a normal existence. 

One that doesn’t include Eddie Munson stealing tapes that make you feel ticklish in order to, I don’t know, listen to them on his own so he can feel ticklish too. 

He hadn’t listened to it, for the record. Not all the way through, at least. 

He’d gotten as far as track two and had to switch it off, ejecting it out of the tape deck of his van with such speed that he was sure it’d shoot clean through the doors in the back. Too close, too real. That had veered a little out of the lane of objectifying you as someone whose crotch he maybe wanted to bury his face in and a little into the lane of you being like, a person. With feelings. 

The events of tonight aren’t helping that case. He hoped that lying face down for as long as he possibly could might let them just unfold around him, like he’d roll over and you’d just be gone, no evidence left behind except for your hair in the drain. 

But you demand attention. Eddie might be obvious, but you demand attention. His attention, at least. 

He grabs the tape from you. “We’re not listenin’ to that bullshit. Try again.”

“Fine!” you snap, but there’s this irritating bemusement dancing around your face. 

You lean forward from your spot on the mattress and tug the milk crate between your calves. Now, this is more your lane– in here, Munson’s got the classics. Or as close to the classics as he will deign to recognise. Zeppelin, Sabbath, Alice Cooper, Blue Öyster Cult– the combination of which you have something borderline mean to say about, but you’ll leave that ‘til later. You dig around, and then.

And then. Hello there, handsome.

In your hands are twelve inches of beauty, belonging to a grisly-voiced Tom Waits. Blue Valentine. Straight to the record player with this old bastard.

“People give this record too much shit,” you remark, and Eddie watches you as you tentatively lift a sock off the turntable. Yeah, he’ll cop to it, he doesn’t take such good care of some of his gear, but sometimes his brain behaves like a police scanner. Lotta channels operating at once. Anyway. Doesn’t matter. He’s watching you lift the needle onto the vinyl right now. “People say that this is a mediocre addition to the oeuvre, but what is mediocre about this–!”

Rousing strings seep from the stereo speakers– it’s Waits’ cover of Somewhere from West Side Story. Eddie knows it within the first half a second because, and now he’ll never admit it since he knows you like it so much, he has played this album to death. 

Somewhere around the halfway mark of Christmas Card For a Hooker in Minneapolis, the record will skip because it's scratched. Or well-loved, if you ask Eddie. 

“Fucking Robert Christgau thinks he’s being funny, doing this, y’know,” you sneer, examining the record sleeve as if you hadn’t seen it thirty thousand times before. Your copy had been lost in the move, among a number of your little sonic secrets. The records you’d keep to listen to by yourself, lying on your bedroom floor. “As if the whole core of Tom Waits’ whole thing isn’t heartache, the sentimentality of what-if. What if we could, what if life wasn’t garbage. That’s sentimentality, right there. It’s West Side Story, I mean, c'mon. Tom Waits is singing to us with his heart on his sleeve, but Christgau wants to suddenly be pedantic, turn around and be like, it’s a vaudeville act! because Waits sometimes also wears his dick on his sleeve.”

It’s a tirade you’ve often repeated to yourself, in your diary or alone in your room, pretending like you’re on a panel, pretending like you’re Susan Sontag and people actually give a shit what you actually have to say. You can’t exactly figure why you’ve said it again now. Maybe because you always found the strings on this song too much to bear without emoting, and you’re already vulnerable and tired. 

Munson, for his part, has flipped over onto his back on the mattress. “Who?” he drones.

“Robert Christgau,” you say, momentarily distracted by the way his shirt has rucked up around his belly. No six pack. Some meat there. Tendons, like you’d noticed before. “Just one of the most seminal rock writers of our time.”

You have a well-thumbed copy of his Record Guide: Rock Albums of the Seventies somewhere in a still-unpacked box.

Munson has a happy trail that curls like brushstrokes.

“You fucking trifler,” you grumble.

His face takes on that terrible look that he’d given you in the record store, all enraptured and cloudy at the corners of his eyes. Looking at you from where he leans on his elbows, one knee propped up, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. You want to shove it back down. 

And see what he’ll do about that. 

“How do you know all this shit?” he asks. Eddie can’t help this. He can’t help that he keeps changing his channel about you (again, police scanner) because one second you’ll be such a massive pain in the ass, then the next, you’ll say something so clever that it’ll make him want to vomit. 

“I like music,” you say, flatly. You give it to him straight, because you suddenly feel searched. You clutch Waitsy’s printed face to your chest in an effort of self-defense. “And I like… words. Kind of makes sense that I would enjoy music journalism, if you’re not totally stupid.” 

“I’m only a little stupid.” 

“Debatable.” 

“Wait, but I mean–” and he’s gearing up, because Eddie is about to ask you a real question. Something that’s been on his mind, the more ice shavings he can tear off of you. Considering you, all three dimensions of you– four, if you add in how much you like to punch him and stuff. “You’re like, incredibly smart, right.”

“Yes.”

“Like, perfect grades.”

“Almost. Save Kaminsky, because he can’t teach for shit and he can’t grade for piss.”

“And you’re a cheerleader… like, an important one?”

“Artist formerly known as, but yes.”

“And you’re on the newspaper.” 

“Very perceptive, aren't we.”

“You’re also popular– or, yeah, were. You party and stuff. You’re always hanging out with those assholes who don’t do half the shit that you do.”

 “Are you closing in on a point here, Munson?”

“How?” he nearly whispers, tone close to dreamy. “You’ve gotta have like, body doubles running around or something because no human person could possibly have that much time in the day. How the fuck did you do all that and also be running around ready to cite, like, an issue of the New Yorker from 1975, and not go completely insane?”

How do you know I’m not completely insane. Because, if he had ever witnessed how Jekyll and Hyde you could get, smacking the shit out of yourself with your hairbrush before you could turn on and be Lacy the cheerleader, Lacy the hot chick, Lacy the playground bitch, he would think you are totally insane. 

You answer him half-straight this time. 

“Diet pills.”

This makes him sit up, and makes you take a couple of steps back towards the bed. You flop down, tossing the Blue Valentine sleeve to the side. 

“Diet pills,” he repeats. 

“Oohhh, yes,” you nod, drawing the shape of the cylindrical pills on his comforter with your finger. You don’t really want to look up at him. “Rainbow diet pills. Soon as I hit my menses, I started lifting them from my mom.” 

“Isn’t that stuff illegal?” Eddie murmurs out of the corner of his mouth, mimicking your criss-cross applesauce seating position. “It’s basically speed, right?”

“Said the drug dealer,” a snort bursts from you. You’ve moved your fidgeting, starting to braid your half-damp hair. “And it is. It’s fully speed. I was doing baby Valley of the Dolls at age thirteen.”

“That is fucked up, Lacy.” 

“Yeah. Well. I'm a little fucked up, or haven't you heard?” 

“There’s been rumblings.” Eddie watches your fingers work, weaving locks of hair, one over the other. He’s never braided his hair. He wonders what it might look like. You come to the end and twist it around your finger, at a loss for a hair tie. He sticks a finger under his leather and silver bracelet, digging out an elastic he keeps handy, just in case. There are a lot of times that Eddie needs to yank his hair out of his face just to focus. “Here.” 

You mouth a silent thanks and wind the elastic around the tuft of hair. Tom Waits whines away about rain washing memories from the sidewalks and you feel weirdly… at ease. You’ve shared a couple of rainbow diet pills with Nicole and Carol (Tina doesn’t mess with amphetamines, a consummate athlete), but you’ve never had anyone ask you how you’ve managed to be the person you’re pretending to be. 

To put the clues together about your impossible do-it-all identity.

And not react in disgust when he finds out you’re fallible. 

“Hey,” Eddie says. Something about hearing you rattle off, not sniping for once, saying something real… it eased the heartburn. It has loosened his tension around you, a little. He figures it’s his turn to say something real. “I’m sorry I called you evil.” 

Most evil twat at the twat table, you nearly correct. “You had grounds.”

“No, no, I didn’t. You–” this is actually harder for him to get out than he thought, “You’re trying. You’re trying really hard to make the best of a messed up situation, and maybe I should’ve seen that– but I didn’t, because it’s high school, and it’s dumb, and I’m trying too, and we’re all trying, just to survive this messed up microcosm of the world– and– and–" He huffs. It's you gazing at him this time. Eyes sparkling in the half-light cast by his bedside lamp. You're... really pretty. "Jesus, can you just forgive me so I can stop talking?”

“That’s a first,” you say. “Microcosm is a five dollar vocab word, Eddie.”

The way you say his name. “I’m a changed man.”

“Can you use adulation in a sentence next?” Your big grin is devastating.

He leans right into you, dastardly looking suddenly. “Is this provocation getting you hot, you psycho?”

Fingertips braced over your knees, your torso keening just the right amount of degrees to favor him, your stare making an unsubtle job of darting from Eddie’s lashes to his lips to his lashes to his lips… 

“Maybe.” A beat. A heavy beat. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

In any other world, with any other person, the wanting would completely make sense. Wanting him to say nothing more and just do, to plant a big, ringed hand either side of your hips and pull you into his lap. To crush his lips against yours. To dig his hands into your thighs, to wind your fingers into his hair. To feel the chill of silver traveling up, under the back of your borrowed shirt, to press down onto him and–

Hey Charlie, I almost went crazy-ayzy-ayzy-ayzy-ay–

Eddie doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t mean to, but his head snaps away from you just as the record starts to skip. 

Then the door slams.

Fuck.

“Ed?”

Wayne.

He totally forgot to formulate that plan.

author's notes: ZOOWEE MAMA HOW WE FEELING ARE YOU STILL WITH ME longest chapter in the fic so far. thanks for keepin up. i love you, let's not waste any time, i don't think i've got a lot of notes for you this go around but i love you - there is nothing more secretly pretentious teenage girl than loving joan didion and susan sontag (i know this because i was her, i am her to this day in fragments) but particularly joan didion on keeping a notebook really sticks to one's ribs. this is not the last joan didion ref in this fic, sorry for being unbearable - stella adler, the mother of method acting - steve harrington being the originator of the nickname lacy is a tribute to him showing signs of being a goofy motherfucker from day dot. please see this post. it was always there, we just couldn't see it in freshman year because of all the hairspray - what's going on with tommy hagan? does anyone really care but me, probably not. but for those that are keeping tick on the timeline (don't)- he got held back senior year, hence why he did not graduate with steve and is in the same grade as eddie, lacy, carol, et al. - WICKED LITTLE TOWN!!!! - the stooges t-shirt is yet another flight of icarus pick; al wears a stooges shirt and i creamed because i love the stooges. let's listen to one of my favorites - loudness are a metal band from osaka, japan! they got signed to an american label in 1985, but how did eddie munson get that tape in hawkins, indiana in 1984? well, my theory is that eddie loves music and jerry from main street vinyl loves benzos. a trade's a trade's a trade. - reader, you are an 18y/o girl who thinks you're better than everyone. of course you're stealing lester bangs' opinions on blue oyster cult and making them your own - and shitting on robert christgau bc you've got a wetty for tom waits - also, here is tom waits' cover of somewhere! my theory on eddie being a tom waits fan-- of course he is, that man looks and sounds like billy goat gruff and is a storytella just like eddie is. he would especially be into his later stuff, like the megalithic orphans album. y'all remember this song from shrek 2 - rainbow diet pills were a real insane thing! this seems more accessible than adderall for the time period, which modern!lacy would certainly have been abusing - for the time that's in it, let me present tom waits' anti-christmas song, christmas card from a hooker in minneapolis my loves, if you've still stuck with me this far, i thank you greatly. i know i'm nutso but i'm having fun writing this fic. i would've been writing it if nobody was reading, but it's a billion times better now that you are. reblogs are always appreciated, and the inbox is always open to chat shit ♡

#published by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #e. munson by powder

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Everyone immediately spreads out to look for El. They can’t find her inside the house anywhere, so they spread out outside, calling her name as they go.

“El!”

“Eleven?”

“El, please!”

Steve barely has time to get his arms up before something barrels into him, almost knocking him over. He shouts in surprise, windmilling his arms to try to stay up, and looks down to see El, face tucked in his stomach, arms tight around his waist. He smiles and wraps his arms around her. “Hey, El.”

She pulls back to look at him seriously. “I am glad you are here.”

He smiles. “Yeah. Me too.” He suddenly frowns. “So, you know-”

She nods. “You feel different.”

Steve grins. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that’s a good different. Robin, too, y’know. We both came back together.”

“I know.”

By this point his shout had attracted everyone’s attention, and they’re all gathered around Steve and El. He looks at them. “How about we move this back inside?” He suggests. “Give us a second.”

Robin meets his eyes and nods, herding everyone inside, and Steve feels immensely grateful that she was brought back with him, that she’s his friend. “El?” He asks, forcing himself to focus. “Why’d you leave?”

She shrugs and buries her face in his stomach again. “Loud.”

“Oh,” Steve murmurs. “Think you can come find me next time things get too loud? That way either I can tell them to shut up, or you can go into a different room for a while. At least someone will know where you are.” He strokes a hand over her head. “I don’t have to tell you what’s in these woods. I know you’re more dangerous, but we’re not. I’d rather not risk it until we have to.”

“Okay. I am sorry.”

“I know. And it’s not your fault.” He leans in to whisper conspiratorially, “We can blame Eddie.” She giggles, and he grins, proud to have made her laugh. “Ready to go inside?”

“Ready,” she nods, grabbing Steve’s hand and squeezing it. He squeezes back, a quick pump, and together they walk inside to see everyone sitting quietly in the living room, waiting for them.

“You wanna go sit down?” He asks quietly, and she hesitates, then nods, moving to sit by Mike.

“Okay,” he says, as Robin moves to stand next to him. “I’m sure you all have plenty of questions.”

“Yeah,” Mike says, “how’d you know about El?”

“We’re from the future,” Robin says.

“Right, cause that makes sense,” Dustin says.

Steve rolls his eyes. “You have cleidocranial dysplasia. You’d never tell your mom, but you’re being bullied at school because of it. Your favorite movie series is Star Wars. You’re a brat with an attitude problem, but you’re smart, which means most people don’t call you on it.” Dustin’s eyes are wide. “Do you believe me?” Dustin nods.

“He’s telling the truth,” El says quietly to Mike, who looks between her and Steve before finally nodding. “Okay.”

Steve sighs. “We’re here because everything that’s going on—El, Will, Barb—it doesn’t stop. It gets worse. More people die. We want to stop it before it gets to that point.”

“Okay,” Nancy says, leaning forward. “How do we do that?”

“We don’t exactly know,” Robin admits. “We’re rewriting history just sitting here talking. We can tell you that Will’s alive. In danger, but alive. Barb we don’t know about.”

“El,” Steve asks quietly. “Could you find her?” She nods, and he turns the TV on, changing it to a channel filled with static. “Robs, I have a blindfold in my room. Second drawer in my nightstand.”

“Got it,” she says, racing upstairs.

He moves the coffee table out of the way and looks at El. “If you’re not ready-”

“I am,” she promises. “But I need quiet.”

“It’ll be quiet,” he assures her, smiling at Robin when she returns, black fabric in her hand. “Thanks. El?” He gestures to the floor, and she nods, takes a deep breath, and sinks to the floor in front of the TV.

He ties the blindfold on her, then takes a seat on the couch next to Robin, who immediately tangles their fingers together.

Everyone sits, quieter than they’ve ever been before, and waits.

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#if I should stay #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #eleven #robin buckley #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #starambles

[scarvain]

✶ STARGIRL — hamzahthefantastic x reader

007 ✶ Party Monster

stargirl masterfile – next – previous

SUMMARY: hamzah has a crush on a youtuber who's always out and about and slushies see their relationship progress on social media! (smau)

DISCLAIMER: reader is a brown haired girl and for some pics that aren't faceless, i'll be using olivia rodrigo cause i love her and she’s filipino like me hehehe

for y/n @ynlnupdates

It's been rumored that Y/N is hosting a party tonight and has invited multiple of her friends. My DMs are open for any photos or videos you have from said party <3

41 replies 25 retweets 73 likes

user222 BABES hamzah just posted a pic of her in his story

↳ user791 the way he's got the biggest crush on her and he's so open about it omg

user086 oh my gosh im so excited for all the pictures

user345 all she does is party bruh and she fr playing wit hamzah's feelings

the music was blaring loudly in the bar and different colored lights were being flashed. you were going around the bar, greeting all your friends and meeting people they brought to the party with them. behind you was hamzah, you had his hand in yours as you walked around and you would squeeze his hand to see if he was doing alright.

you two were together almost the whole night, stuck to each other like you were attached by the hip.

until your mutual friends arrived and split you guys apart. he was occupied by them all night while you were hosting the party and catching up with your friends.

at some point, you were looking around the bar for him, feeling incomplete without hin by your side and suddenly, you bump into him.

"oh my god hi," you said, a soft blush rising to your cheeks.

he was about to speak when another one of your friends called out for you and pulled you away from him. you mouth sorry to him and he just smiles at you.

the whole night, hamzah was on your mind. he was on your mind when you did shots with your friends, when another boy flirted with you, when you danced, anything. when hamzah saw you on the dance floor with another guy, he felt himself tense up, avoiding you the rest of the night.

it had felt weird. you two were just friends right?

right?

as the night was slowly coming to an end, whenever your friends bid goodbye, you insisted on coming with them outside until they got into their ride.

when the bar was empty, you made your way towards hamzah who was sitting on one of the stools with a drink in his hand. you took a seat beside him. he was quiet and you were too though he could see you from his peripheral vision.

your head was in your hands, hamzah calling for the bartender you had hired and asked for water.

he taps your shoulder and your head shoots up slowly, he opens the bottle then hands it to you with a small smile. you feel your stomach doing backflips before smiling at him and taking the bottle.

"thanks," you tell him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"wanna go now? i'll drive," he tells you but you shook your head.

you got off your stool, pulling it closer to his before sitting on it again. you place your head on his shoulder and a hand on top of his. "let's just stay here for a while."

hamzah felt nervous, biting his lip to hide his smile but fails. he was glad you couldn't see him. then right after, he wraps and arm around your waist, hand fiddling where your top ended.

you had fallen asleep in hamzah's arms after a while then he drove you both back to the air bnb, him wiping your makeup off before letting you get changed into your sleeping clothes.

"night hamzah, you're the best." you said softly as he tucked you in your bed.

"good night."

liked by 40,278 and others

tiktokroom Y/N spotted getting cozy with TikTok star, Vinnie Hacker at her party last night. Could a romance spark between these two? 👀

view comments

user628 no fucking way

user001 hamzah & y/n all the way bro

user372 told yall she was playing with hamzah's feelings

slushyfan noooooo

user123 thought she was dating hamzah???

user555 @ynln girlll wake up

it was the next day already and the first thing hamzah had seen on his phone was the news that came out about the girl he was in the room with.

martin had texted, asking if it were true and he had no idea what to answer. after all, he saw them dancing together last night.

who's to say she didn't have anything feelings for the guy?

✶ taglist — @cdbabymp3 @noturbabe22 @dabuggh3 @thatmartinkitten @tumb1rgir1z @mfcherry @ldrvinyl @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @seasidelily @jisyng @brucewayngfreal @beamuah @maybankfr @nickmillersn1gf @ivvees-blog

LMK IF U WANNA BE ADDEDDD!!!

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #savi's works ✶ #savi’s stargirl ✶ #hello hamzah!

[ravieisunhinged]

Tell Me

Gale x F!Tav!Reader

Oneshot / Imagine

Content Warning: Fluff, Smut

Summary: You've been down bad for Gale for weeks, ever since you met the man. Now the others in your camp start to notice, and one day Gale overhears a conversation you're having with Karlach about him.

As you open your eyes, you see Gale reading. Quickly, your turn your head to avoid him seeing your face flushed. Unfortunately, someone else notices.

"You have the hots for Gale, huh?" Karlach asks you.

"Shut- I do not." You scoff.

"The pink on your cheeks say differently." She replies.

"Okay, maybe I lied." You say, bringing your hands to your face.

"Knew it." She laughs.

"But don't tell anyone, for the love of god." You tell her.

"Fine fine, but I do suggest you should make a move, he's staring at you." She says.

"Huh-" You say, looking the other way. Gale meets your gaze, and you quickly look away.

"I told ya, make a move." She suggests.

"Noooo," You say.

"Yesssss," She teases you.

Little did you know, Gale could hear everything. He was now well aware of how down bad you were for him. The man felt the same way though, in fact he was in love with you.

Throughout the day, he kept stealing glances at you, and it made you suspicious. You were currently on your way to Baldur’s Gate, but as the day went on, everyone got exhausted. Finally deciding to call it a day, you all set up camp.

As everyone went to bed (or so you thought), you went down to the forest so you could be alone with your thoughts. Gale was still awake though. He saw you leaving, so he decided to slowly follow you.

It was dark, but you decided to sit on the grass, and look at the stars.

As he saw you admiring the sky, he couldn't help but watch. So, when he finally speaks up, you were taken aback.

"It's pretty tonight, isn't it?"

Turning your head, you see Gale.

"Very. What are you doing up?" You ask him.

"I could ask you the same thing." He says, walking towards you, and sitting down next to you.

"Just thinking." You reply.

"About me?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh? Why do you say that?" You ask.

"I couldn't help but overhear a certain conversation this morning, concerning me." He chuckles.

"Dear lord, I'm going to die now." You groan, putting a hand over your face.

"No you're not. Tell me. Is it true?" He asks.

Sighing, you put your hand down. "Yes." You say quietly.

"I didn't quite hear that." He says.

"I said yes." You answer, more louder this time.

"Good, because I like you too. No, I'm in love with you, actually." He replies.

"I'm glad to hear that." You smile, cheeks flushing to a pink color.

He turns his head to get a better look at you, then he kisses you. You kiss him back, placing a hand on his jaw.

Things get heated, then Gale pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “You know, we are the only ones awake. If you know what I’m getting at.”

“I do.” You smirk, then push him so he’s laying down on the grass. Gale looks at you, and you go to straddle his lap.

You kiss him again, and he places his hands on your hips. As you're both making out, you start moving your hips so you're grinding on his lap.

He slides his hands under your shirt, and you shiver from how cold they are.

"Are you alright?" He asks, pulling away.

"I'm fine, you're just cold." You chuckle.

He smirks and takes this opportunity to flip you over, so now you're the one laying on the grass.

"I see what you did there." You say.

"That, I did. Now," He continues, running his fingers over your jaw.

You look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Are you sure you want this?" He finally asks you.

"Please. I've been wanting this since we met." You reply.

After you say that, he immediately kisses you. He pins your arms above your head, and starts kissing down your neck.

When he starts to kiss down your body, he removes your clothes.

“You’re so perfect,” He breathes out.

You chuckle. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

As he gets to your underwear, he grins, then takes them off with his teeth.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” You say.

“Don’t die on me now.” He chuckles.

“I won’t, now hurry up.” You reply.

“As you wish, my lady.” He says before continuing. He runs his fingers through your folds, and groans deeply when he realizes you are soaked.

“By the nine hells. Damn it Gale, just fuck me already.” You demand.

“You sure about that?” He asks.

“Please.” You beg.

He decides he’s done teasing you, and he takes his clothes off. Hovering over you, he leaves kisses on your neck before sinking into you.

His hands grip your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. Worth it. You’re biting your lip to try and contain any noises that could possibly leave your mouth, so the others don’t hear.

As he pulls out and slams back into you, a groan accidentally leaves your lips. “Fuck,” You breathe out. When you feel like you’re close to being able to cum, you slide your hand down to rub your clit. Only for Gale to slap it away and do it himself.

“That’s my job.” He says. You clench around him as you feel his fingers.

“Shitshitshitshit-“ You shout as you cum around him. He squeezes his eyes shut and follows shortly after. Then he rests himself on top of you, your fingers stroking his hair.

When he finally looks up at you, he smiles. “So, you’re in love with me too, huh?”

You snort. “Of course I am, you dork.”

“Good. We’re doing that again, by the way.” He says.

“I’m not complaining.” You reply.

You both relax for a little longer, then go for a second round…only to wake the others up with your moans.

#bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios smut #gale x tav #Gale x reader #bg3 gale

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Shooting a Movie part 2

Note: as if I can write a one chapter thing. nope! once again; shoutout to @foxyanon for letting me ramble about this fic to her as I made it up!

follow up to part 1.

Warnings: 18+!! smut/brief hint of angst. The pornstar plot continues with Sihtric.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: your next job offer was to make a movie with Sihtric.

wordcount: 5k

Masterlist

Your movie with Masema had been a success, and the movie offers came rolling in your manager's inbox ever since it was released.

You viewed all the offers but none really made you excited as they were, as expected, all made for the hardcore porn industry. Masema had told you he'd always be up for another movie if you would be interested, all you had to do was contact his manager and he'd be game. But as much as you had loved your little adventure with the dominant man, the hardcore stuff was not what you wanted to focus on necessarily right now, so you turned down offer after offer.

However, after a few weeks you contemplated hitting up Masema again, as you simply needed work in order to pay your bills, but before you could reach out you suddenly received an interesting message; a role in a more soft porn movie was available, and the male co-star was none other than Sihtric Kjartansson.

Sihtric was a very well known name in the industry, just like Masema, and it wasn't easy to make it through the selection to work with him. You and many others swore Sihtric and Masema could've been twins, but they both truly didn't know each other nor had they ever met, despite working in the same industry. There were some differences between the two men though. Sihtric was scarred and had several tattoos on his body, and he had an outrageous but damned sexy haircut with half of his head shaved and the other half full with long, dark curls. But their personalities were completely different as well. Masema was stern, serious and rather quiet, whereas Sihtric was not taking himself seriously at all, he just wanted to have fun. And from the stories you had heard in the dressing rooms and at parties, Sihtric was truly kind, gentle and very warmhearted. Everyone who had worked with Sihtric had nothing but praise for him, and you hoped you would soon be one of the lucky ones who could tell nice stories about him.

You reacted to the available spot, and to your surprise you got a phone call from Sihtric himself only a few days later to tell you that you were his first choice.

'There's a script,' Sihtric said on the phone, 'it's a roleplay but I haven't read it yet. I thought maybe we could go through it together?'

Sihtric's voice melted your insides, sounding so warm and playful, and you already couldn't wait to finally meet him. You'd seen several of his movies, and you had never failed to get off by watching him, but you weren't exactly planning on telling him that.

'Sure, that sounds great,' you said, glad that he couldn't see your flushed face.

'Great,' Sihtric said and laughed softly, which weakened your knees, 'how do you want to meet? I just want to make sure you're all comfortable, you know? I could come over to your place if you'd wish, if you feel safe and at ease there, but you're always welcome to come over to my place. Or, we could always meet up for lunch or something and just go over it, no matter how weird that may be,' he laughed again.

'Eh,' you stammered a little lightheaded, 'no, I- I'll come over to your place, no worries.'

You preferred to visit your co-stars instead of inviting them over to your home, that way you can always leave whenever you want to in case you don't vibe with them.

'Alright, cool,' Sihtric said with clear excitement in his voice, 'I'll make sure I have the scripts here and I'll text you my address. If you're cool with me texting you of course,' he quickly checked.

'Sure, you can text me,' you smiled.

When you arrived at the apartment building Sihtric lived in you double checked the address he had texted you before getting out of your car. The neighbourhood looked rather dodgy, even on a late afternoon, and not a place where a famous and rich pornstar would live. You were hesitant to get out of your car as you saw a group of men hanging out near the building, and so you texted Sihtric to ask if you were really at the right place. You looked at the building again and got spooked when your phone suddenly rang as Sihtric called you.

'Sihtric?' you answered.

'Yeah, hey,' he chuckled as he ran down some stairs, his footsteps echoing loudly in the background, 'you're at the right place, but I know how it looks. I'm on my way to pick you up, don't worry.'

He had barely said those words when you saw the main entrance door swing open and Sihtric stepping through it. He looked so good while so casually dressed, wearing black leather boots with black sweatpants and a half buttoned up grey flannel on top. His outfit coincidentally matched with your short black skirt and dark grey t-shirt.

Sihtric hung up as soon as he saw you step out of your car, and he showed you a big smile as he approached you with open arms, inviting you in for a hug.

'Hey, babe,' he said so smoothly and naturally while he pulled you in for a tight embrace, 'sorry about the place,' he rambled before you could even greet him back, 'I've lived here almost all my life and I'm used to it. I actually never invite colleagues over for that reason and stop by them, so when I invited you I forget this place looks dodgy as fuck. Sorry about that,' he took a step back and held your hands, 'damn, you look gorgeous by the way,' he made you twirl around for him as he held your hand so he could check you out, 'how are you, darling?'

'I- Oh,' you giggled as you nearly fell in his arms, 'I'm good,' you smiled and already felt yourself getting lost in his mismatched eyes, 'and how are you?'

'Couldn't be better,' Sihtric smiled sweetly and then noticed he had never given you the time or space to close your car door, so he shut it for you.

'Thanks,' you felt yourself already constantly blushing in his presence.

Sihtric waved off your gratitude and took your hand, holding it as he walked you towards the building.

His apartment was bigger than you had expected, but still very modest and it was evident that a single guy lived there. His living room was a little bit messy, but not dirty, and you wondered why someone who earned the amount of money he did lived in a place like that. There was nothing wrong with it though, but it was the total opposite of Masema's mansion for example, as Sihtric only seemed to have one bedroom instead of six. And in a way you actually liked that, because Sihtric clearly wasn't flashy and showing off his money; he liked to keep life simple and it seemingly kept him grounded too.

You sat down on his black leather couch while he poured you a drink, and after some small talk you moved on to the reason for this meeting.

'Okay,' Sihtric said with a sigh as he held the scripts in his hand, 'I've only read the pairing and it's as cliché as it gets, but,' he paused for a second and handed you the one script, 'I think it's hilarious and we can work with it.'

'What's the pair- oh,' you snorted when you saw the roles selected, 'teacher and student, really?'

'I know,' Sihtric laughed and let himself fall back into his comfy couch next to you, 'let's see what we got here then,' he said and flipped the first page.

You sipped your drink while his eyes scanned the first page, and a frown appeared on his face before it transformed into a grin.

'Oh, hold on,' he chuckled, 'I expected me to be the intimidating teacher and you the hot student, but it looks like they reversed the roles for once.'

'What?' you nearly choked on your drink and flipped the page, 'oh, shit,' you laughed.

'This is ridiculous,' Sihtric laughed again as he read the context of the written scenes, 'I have to eat you out to crank my grade up? And in return for my good behaviour you give me a blowjob? I would've been a fucking A student in school if this was how it worked,' he snorted, and you both laughed as you continued to read.

'Oh, we have sex on the teacher's desk, obviously,' you rolled your eyes with a smile.

'I love how awful this is,' Sihtric said and shook his head, smiling, 'who even writes this shit?'

'The writer should be stated in the back right?' you had barely spoken the words or Sihtric already flipped to the last page.

'Let's see. Hm, one… Osferth?' Sihtric furrowed his brow and then laughed, 'what a freaky dude. Anyway, are you up for this though?' Sihtric looked at you and threw his script on his salon table.

'Eh,' you paused as you quickly looked through the written acts again, 'yeah, it's all fine by me. Nothing we haven't done before. I'm cool with this. You?'

'Of course,' he said and turned to face you, resting his arm on the couch's backrest behind you.

You also turned towards him, feeling comfortably shy under his intense but soft and sweet gaze. You knew he wanted more than to discuss that script with you, but it was also clear that he gave you enough space to tell him you didn't want anything more right now if that would be the case. But you had no plans of stopping him, as you wanted to explore him as much as he wanted to explore you. And Sihtric sensed that, he was good at reading people and feeling their energy, and he liked what you radiated. He then leaned in a little closer and hooked one finger around the delicate golden necklace you wore.

'Gift from a lover?' he asked as he looked at the little heart pendant.

'Oh, no,' you said, 'I just liked it and bought it myself some years ago.'

'Ah,' he clicked his tongue, 'fair. I saw it in one of your movies and I thought it was just an accessory at first, but I got curious now seeing you wear it in private.'

'You got curious?' you asked with a playful smile, 'curious to what? If I'm seeing someone?'

'Just curious is all, sweetheart,' Sihtric said with a soft voice, and he smiled while his fingers grazed your collar bones lightly after letting go of your necklace.

'So you've seen my work?' you continued to question him.

'Your latest one, yeah,' he confessed, his fingers trailing down your arm, 'I had heard your name a few times before, I knew you were pretty new but also rapidly gaining an impressive resume.'

'And you wanted to work with me because of my last movie? Because that was really just me exploring the industry a little further.'

'I figured,' Sihtric smiled and placed his hand on your thigh, 'but it was a good movie. And you're now the first girl who got to kiss Masema on screen.'

'That's a title I proudly earned,' you smiled, to which Sihtric laughed and leaned in closer.

'You know, I'm also not one to kiss in my movies,' he half whispered and circled your lips with his thumb, 'but I understand Masema, because you make it so damned tempting.'

You smiled a little shyly, which he enjoyed, and he moved even closer while you remained somewhat frozen.

'You can touch me, you know,' he purred with a flirty smile and took your hand to place it on his chest.

You giggled softly, and Sihtric lightly caressed your cheek with his fingers. You looked up at him for a moment, and then your eyes darted between his slightly parted lips and his eyes, which popped out because of his black eyeliner, and you immediately looked down at your hand on his chest after you noticed he saw you had looked at his lips.

'What's the matter?' he asked sweetly, 'getting shy? There's no reason for that. I'm sure you've seen my work, so we've seen each other naked already anyway, what else is there to be shy about?'

'I just struggle to not kiss you,' you confessed.

'Why do you want to kiss me so badly?' he asked with a smirk.

'Because you're cute,' you shrugged, 'and really good looking of course.'

'Well, so are you,' Sihtric half whispered, 'so in that case, maybe you could kiss me.'

'Can I?' you asked as you both leaned in closer, feeling his breath on your lips.

'You can, but you're getting me all nervous now,' he chuckled, 'it's been a while since I properly kissed someone.'

You smiled compassionately at him, hoping to ease his sudden nerves, and you moved your hands up to his neck as you leaned in to softly peck his lips. Another nervous chuckle escaped Sihtric as you pulled back to look at him, wanting to make sure that everything was fine with him, but the blush on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know without even asking, and you brought your lips back to his again.

'That okay?' you asked after a longer kiss.

'Mhm,' Sihtric hummed softly against your lips and moved his hands to your face, pulling you back in again for another tender kiss.

He pulled you in his lap, and you straddled him while you continued to kiss gently and slowly, while not lacking the intensity of that steamy kiss you had shared with Masema. Sihtric moaned softly into your mouth when the kiss deepened, and you became a little lightheaded when you felt his tongue piercing lightly grazing your lips and tongue.

'You good?' you asked after he broke the kiss for some air.

'Mhm, don't stop,' Sihtric breathed against your lips, and immediately snuck his tongue in your mouth again at the first opportunity.

His fingers slid under your short skirt, settling on your buttocks while you unbuttoned the rest of his flannel and pushed it down his shoulders. You felt the cold steel of his silver rings on your skin while you kissed his jaw and up to his earlobe, where you playfully tugged his dangling cross earring lightly with your teeth, before you kissed under his ear and down his neck.

Sihtric smiled and threw his head back on his couch, enjoying the way your lips felt on his skin a little more than he perhaps should, but you somehow made him feel so good, he relished in it.

He hooked his arms under your knees after a moment, and lifted you smoothly his arms as he got up, walking you over to his office desk which was located in front of the living room window, overlooking the rather shady neighbourhood from the third floor, and he took off his flannel as soon as he had sat you down. You bit down on your lip as you smiled, eyeing up his muscular and scarred torso before you placed your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him back in for another kiss while you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in.

'Tell me what you like,' Sihtric breathed against your lips, his hands roaming your body before taking off your shirt.

'Anything, handsome,' you laughed your signature cheeky laugh, which took Sihtric by surprise and he simply melted inside.

He smiled at you, his eyes half dazed while his lips were touching yours and his hand holding your face.

'Anything, baby?' he murmured playfully and then pushed your mini skirt further up, his fingers curled around the elastic band of your seethrough panties, 'that's not good enough for me though, I need to hear what you want.'

'Your cock,' you smiled and cupped his arousal through his black sweatpants.

'You want my cock?' he teased, 'hm, how badly?'

His warm and soft voice sent tingles down your spine while he held your face close to his, lips and noses touching as you both smiled at each other.

'Really badly,' you whispered seductively and lowered his sweatpants.

You attempted to pull down his boxers too, but Sihtric playfully slapped your hands away.

'Nah-ah,' he chuckled, 'it's my turn first,' he winked and dropped to his knees.

He pulled your panties down so fast you had no idea how he had done it, and before you could even adjust to the sudden change your legs were already upon his broad shoulders and his head between your thighs. He knew the script had more foreplay, but he also knew neither of you were sticking to the script in any way right now, except that you were sitting upon a desk and he was about to taste you.

You gasped when you felt him kiss and suck your clit lightly before he started to lick you, his piercing then hitting the right spot with every roll of his tongue. You squirmed at the feeling and fell back on his desk. His grip on you was loose and relaxed, he knew you weren't going to try and get away from him because the sounds you made told him you were enjoying yourself too much.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his facial hair against your skin, and you couldn't stop smiling at the way he pleasured you so gently yet firm. You moved one hand down into his dark curls, and the vibration of his low and satisfying hums against your core made you squeal and tug his hair each time while you arched your back, much to Sihtric's own pleasure. He had you at his mercy so easily and he loved it. He wanted you to feel as good as it felt for him, and knowing he didn't even have to use his hands on you to make you feel this good stroked his ego and made him feel content too. He could get off by just pleasing you all night.

'Hm, please,' you mumbled, smiling, desperately needing more.

You pushed yourself up your elbows to look at Sihtric, but you immediately fell back down lightheaded after having locked eyes with him while he slowly teased you with the tip of his tongue and winked at you. You were left breathless and swore you saw stars after you laid back down again, and that was not just because you were looking out of the window.

'Just relax for me,' Sihtric cooed and moved up, leaning in over you and pressing his hard trapped cock against your folds while he took your chin, 'let me take care of you, please? A pretty girl like you deserves to be taken care of.'

'But what if I want to take care of you?' you asked with a slight pout.

'You're too pretty to get down on your knees for me,' Sihtric whispered with a soft smile, 'we can do that when we're filming. But I'm not letting you do that here, not this first time, okay, sweetheart?'

'O-okay,' you mumbled as he leaned his forehead against yours.

'Did you like that?' he asked, his lips touching yours with every word he spoke.

'Yeah,' you sighed dreamily, 'I really did.'

'Good,' he smiled, 'all I want is to make you feel good.'

He kissed you passionately and didn't stop until his cock became painful, desperate to be freed from his tight boxers so he carefully asked, 'You wanna fuck, baby?'

You nodded impatiently with your desperation for him clear in your eyes, to which he smiled. He wasn't sure what exactly he was feeling inside right now, as it was new but also pleasant and he wanted to chase it, so he lifted your chin with a tap of his index finger and he kissed you deeply again, wanting this moment to last while he took off your skirt.

He continued to kiss you while he pulled out his leaking cock, giving himself a few good strokes before teasing your entrance. He knew you were desperate and he wanted to see you smile, and it worked.

'Stop teasing,' you giggled with a soft whine.

You attempted to push his hand away so you could feel him inside you, but he didn't move. Instead, he wrapped his free hand lightly around your throat, smiling as he looked down into your eyes. He then moved his hand further up and tangled his fingers in your hair, giving you a firm tug to keep your eyes locked with his.

'Or what?' Sihtric asked sweetly.

'Stop it,' you laughed and slapped his chest playfully.

'Or what?' he dared you again with a smirk as he towered over you, then politely commanded, 'open your mouth for me.'

Without any hesitation you listened and opened your mouth for him, his grip still firm on the back of your head, and you allowed him to let his spit slowly drip from between his lips and down on your tongue. You gave him your cheeky smile as you thanked him, to which he kissed you in response, a little more heated than before. Once he broke the kiss he quickly covered your mouth with his hand, silencing you as he sheathed himself entirely inside you in one smooth movement.

'Ahh, fuck,' his words were dragged out with a low moan as he stilled inside you, letting you adjust to his size which stretched you the same pleasant way as Masema had done, and you never thought you'd ever feel this full again.

You tugged his hair firmly while your other hand squeezed his bicep, digging your nails into his skin as he began to slowly thrust into you. So slowly you felt every twitch of his cock with each stroke and your moans began to sound muffled as your mouth was still covered. Sihtric removed his hand and pushed you to lay back on his desk, he took your legs and threw both over one shoulder before he grabbed onto your waist and began fucking you with a pleasantly slow and steady pace. 

Sihtric was never rough nor too soft, he had the perfect balance that wasn't fucking you senseless but also not something you'd consider making love, it was something pleasant inbetween the two. He fucked you deeply but with a certain passion, and nothing made him harder than knowing he was taking you in front of the window, in clear view of those who lived in the surrounding apartment buildings, who could see how good he made you feel without having to ravage you.

He leaned in occasionally, taking your face with one hand while he continued to thrust into you slow and deep as he kissed you and caught your soft moans in his mouth. You arched your back once he moved away from you, and he had his strong arm wrapped around your legs to keep them in place on his shoulder while he had one hand pressed down onto your stomach, feeling his cock inside you as he enjoyed how tight you felt in this position.

'You're making me cum so easily, sweet lady,' Sihtric huffed with a devilish yet soft smile.

'Then cum,' you breathed, wanting to feel his warmth spread inside you.

You looked up at him with alluring eyes, feeling dazed at the sight of his black curls sticking to his glistening face and the way his smiling lips were slightly parted, from which his soft moans and heavy breaths escaped. His eyes were hooded, his eyeliner still applied perfectly and his cheeks were a light rosy colour. He took his time with you, thrusting deep inside you so slow it made your head spin and you could only laugh your cheeky laugh in between your moans and gasps.

You experienced hard porn and soft porn, but this was neither of those. This was something entirely different, softer and slower than you'd ever felt before, and despite the slow pace it felt extremely intense you couldn't say anything that made sense. And the entire sight of you on his desk, looking like a beautiful mess as you fell apart for him while he was so gentle with you pushed Sihtric over the edge before he wanted to, but he couldn't help himself and spilled inside you with a heavy grunt. He continued thrusting into you through his own high, and he massaged your clit with his fingers to ensure your climax was just as intense and blissful as his had been when you came shortly after him.

You were left shaking on his desk, and as the adrenaline rush left your body you started to feel cold as you laid naked on his desk, while the window was slightly opened and the cool night's breeze touched your skin. Sihtric was fast to clean up and put on his boxers while you were gradually coming down from your high, and he noticed you were trembling once you finally sat up on his desk, completely naked.

'Hey,' Sihtric gently took your face as he positioned himself between your thighs again, 'are you okay?' he asked, concerned.

'Just… c-cold,' you chuckled, a little dazed still.

'Oh, sweetheart,' he whispered and quickly grabbed his flannel off the floor to drape it over your shoulders.

He then wrapped his arms around you and pressed your bare chest against his in an attempt to warm you as fast as he could, to which you smiled. You wrapped your arms around his waist, stealing his body heat, and you embraced like that for a long moment without exchanging a word, just enjoying each other's warmth, scent and touch. And Sihtric only broke the embrace to cup your cheek, so he could peck your lips sweetly, over and over again while he looked completely smitten.

'You never kiss, and yet now you can't stop?' you murmured.

He hushed you and smiled, then went in for another kiss but you teasingly backed away. Sihtric looked confused, but his smile returned quick enough once you leaned back in and nuzzled his nose softly.

'Kiss me,' he whispered pleadingly, and you kissed him passionately several times more. 

'I could kiss you all night,' he murmured against your lips once you broke the kiss.

'You're too cute,' you giggled and then finally got dressed again.

You jumped off his desk and then held out his flannel to him.

'Keep it,' Sihtric smiled.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, it looks good on you.'

'Thanks,' you chuckled and put his flannel over your shirt, loving the way it was comfortably oversized and smelled exactly like him, 'so, you always rehearse scripts like this?'

'No,' Sihtric laughed, 'this, eh, really got out of hand. Sorry,' he blushed.

'Don't apologise. It was really nice,' you reassured him.

'I'm glad it was nice for you too,' he said, 'it's, eh, still kinda early in the evening I suppose. Do you want a drink or something, or maybe some food? I could order us something,' he mumbled almost shyly.

'Oh,' you sighed with a smile, 'that's so sweet, baby. But I think it's best if I get going.'

'Oh, y-yeah, of course,' Sihtric cleared his throat, knowing it wasn't very professional to ask you to stay for some crappy take-out meal, but he was disappointed regardless.

You grabbed your belongings and Sihtrc walked you to your car, where he took your hand before you could get in.

'Get home safe, okay?' he said, 'let me know you're home safe?'

'I will,' you kissed his cheek, and he then suddenly took your face and kissed your lips.

The kiss was long and passionate, until he abruptly pulled away with a shaky breath.

'Are you okay?' you asked, a little surprised.

'Yeah,' he sighed and gave you a weakened smile, then stopped you again as you attempted to get in your car, 'hey,' he said softly, 'don't… this line of work, it's- just promise you won't do anything against your will, okay?'

'I won't do anything I don't like,' you said, 'I promise.'

'Good,' Sihtric swallowed hard and lightly touched your face, 'you're just… you're too pure and too beautiful for this industry, sweetheart. Girls like you,' his voice trembled lightly, 'they get taken advantage of if they're not careful. Look after yourself, okay? And if you ever need anything or if there's trouble, you have my number, yeah?'

'I will be careful,' you promised and pinched his cheek to lighten his mood, which made him chuckle, 'I'll see you again soon, right?'

'I hope so.'

'I'll have my manager set up a day to shoot and all that,' you said, 'you'll hear from me.'

'Sure thing,' Sihtric said and finally allowed you to get in your car, and he then leaned on its roof while he looked down at you, 'and, well… you know where I live now. You're welcome anytime.'

'For sex you mean?' you chuckled.

'For anything, sweetheart,' he smiled and watched you start your car.

'You're too cute,' you smiled and waited for him to step away so you could close the door, but he didn't budge. 'Sihtric?' you snorted, 'I gotta close the door?'

'Oh, shit,' he laughed and pulled away, 'yeah, shit, sorry,' he stammered and then politely shut your car door and blew you a kiss before you hit the gas.

With an uneasy feeling in his stomach he watched you drive off and cursed himself for kissing you. Because he knew better than to kiss someone the way he had kissed you, and he shouldn't catch feelings for anyone in the same industry because it would always cause trouble. But he also knew it was already too late for him to not catch any feelings for you.

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Choices. 1

One: It Has Always Been Her

Peter Parker x reader series

Summary: Everybody forgot who Peter Parker was. All his world tunerd grey until he met you and you started dating. It could have been perfect if it wasn't for the fact that MJ comes back and, surprise! She remembers EVERYTHING.

Warnings: Pure Angst!, some descriptions of sex (+18), swearing, mentions of death.

w/c: 4.2k +

a/n: First chapter of this series. I hope you enjoy it and by "enjoyt it" I mean, cry with me, lol. Likes, reblogs and comments are much appreciate it as always. If you want to be added to my permanent tags there's a link on my masterlist and if you just want to be added for this series tag list you can leave a comment. Gif not mine

Series Masterlist

"Can I come in?" he asks with his hands in his pockets.

"I don't think that's a good idea" you deny. Your voice comes out in what is little more than a whisper.

"Y/n... please, I just want to talk" he pleads. His gaze is as pleading as a puppy's when he sees that you only have one bite left and you haven't given him any yet.

"I think I need time" you say without looking at him.

~How did I get to this place?~, you wonder. ~How did it all end up so fucked up?~

Maybe we should rewind it so we can understand.

—---------------|°|-------------------

- 8 months earlier -

Second semester of college. You're a nervous wreck, how will your classes be this semester, will you be able to understand everything you need to?

Anxiety invading your body like thousands of electric currents flowing through you. You can calm them, but you can't get rid of them. They are part of you, your anxiety is just trying to keep you safe after all.

You look at the small piece of paper in your hands, it's the only thing you had on hand at the time to write down the room number of your classes after asking the secretary. Of course it was more of a scribble than anything else. The lady was in a hurry, after all.

"Excuse me" you walk up to what appears to be your classroom and there is nothing but a boy sitting in the back. "Sorry, sorry to bother you" you bite your lip, the boy looks up somewhat sheepishly and watches you. "Is this Mr. Anderson's class?" you ask at last.

"You're in the right place" he nods with the warmest, friendliest smile you've ever seen.

Slowly the room begins to fill up, you try to make your way through but fail miserably. It's a buffalo onslaught and you're just a little bunny. The chairs fill up, there aren't many empty seats.

Your eyes meet his again, he's watching you. He tries to tell you something and that's when you see him point to his backpack on the chair next to him. He's saving you a seat.

Your heart slows down, all means you already have a place to sit.

You walk over to him and carefully sit down as he removes his backpack.

"I appreciate it very much, you saved my education" you try to break the ice the only way you know how, by making a little joke.

Luckily his sense of humor is just as strange and you manage to get a chuckle out of him.

"I'm glad I did..." he pauses, waiting for you to tell him your name.

"Y/n, I'm Y/n Y/l/n" you extend your hand in greeting and he takes it without hesitation.

"Peter Parker" The smile never leaves his mouth.

Deep down inside you know you should have met him.... You were never one to believe in coincidences, but you did believe in fate.

Even if this could be your place of peace and your downfall at the same time.

- 7 months earlier -

"You can't tell me you've never seen the star wars movies" Peter denies, a rebellious curl decides down his forehead and distracts you for a second.

That thing he told you about him not being popular at school was hard to believe. Peter was the most interesting, kind, simple, honest and tender person you've ever met. Not to mention that his little freckles, deep-set eyes, chocolate hair and Greek God body made it even more difficult to believe.

You knew he'd had a girlfriend. However, Peter always avoided the subject. He would say that he had broken up with her because they would go to different colleges but only that. You knew it wasn't a subject you should bring up, not if you didn't want Peter's mood to change at the drop of a hat. Not in a bad way, just like his energy would suddenly go out.

"Well you can show them to me now, can't you?" you bite the end of your pen. You were supposed to be 'studying'. To be honest, it was hard for you to concentrate when he was looking at you with that cute smile.

"I think so..." He nods slightly. "Surely you don't want to keep studying?"

"Pretty sure, that's not the only reason I invited you over" You avoid his gaze and a pink tint covers your cheeks. You're embarrassed and Peter knows it. He can hear your heartbeat racing. That would matter to him if it weren't for the fact that his is the same.

"Then let's watch the first movie" He nods. "I like spending time with you."

Your heart melted... Oh, if only you'd left it in the freezer.

- 6 months earlier -

You found out Peter was spiderman by accident, you didn't mean to and neither did he.

You were in his apartment because you had decided you had had enough of hiding your feelings. You liked Peter, a lot. You couldn't go on with the uncertainty anymore, you really hoped he would like you back.

You had the keys to his apartment, you lived in the dorms and your roommate wasn't very quiet, let alone calm, so Peter offered you his apartment to study in during exam season. However, you decided to use the small advantage to prepare something nice for him, something you could confess to.

You prepared a dinner for both of you and put on that skirt that Peter once said he liked because it brought out the color of your eyes.

Everything was ready and would have been perfect had it not been for Peter aka Spiderman. He decided to go out patrolling the neighborhood that night and found himself engaged in a battle that left him breathless. He came out victorious, but more tired than usual, his senses were not very sharp and he allowed himself to enter through the window of his room and remove his mask without realizing that you were already there. Sitting on his bed waiting for him.

"Peter?" you murmur petrified. You definitely weren't expecting this, let alone him.

"Y-Yn? W-What are you doing h-here?" he looks you up and down and stutters. You don't know how to explain it but you still try "I can explain" You look at the mask in his hand.

"You're spiderman" Your gaze is lost. You try to get back to the here and now.

"No!" He exclaims but denies right after. "I mean, yes but-" He's even more nervous than you are.

He didn't want you to know. Having the important people in his life know that he was spiderman brought him nothing but trouble.

More importantly, he didn't want to put you in danger. You, the only good thing he had achieved after all the bad things that had happened exactly 8 months ago.

"Oh wow..." You stand up and your eyes search his. "That explains why you were disappearing without saying where you were going" you sigh in relief "I thought you had a girlfriend I didn't know about or something... this is totally a relief."

"A relief?" now he's the one who's confused. "So bad it was that I had a girlfriend"

"Maybe... a little" you shrug. You came here to be honest and that's what you're trying. Even after the bombshell of information you just got, that doesn't change anything, the reason you came is the same.

"It's good that you're not scared but what are you doing here? As far as I know we didn't arrange to meet, did we?"

"Now the surprise was for both of us" You joke to lighten the mood.

"You're not wrong there" he laughs lightly. "What kind of surprise?" He looks at the pair of candles around you.

"One where I tell you I like you, Peter" you say bravely. You feel proud that you could do it even though your palms are shaking.

"And after this?" His eyes don't leave yours. His heart is beating a mile a minute, he couldn't believe you felt the same way he did even though he was worried about what might happen after you discovered his other side.

"You being Spiderman doesn't change my feelings for you, Peter. I like you and spiderman won't make it any different" You smile at how crazy that sounded. The guy you like is spiderman.

"I like you too" his smile widens and he takes a step towards you.

"Really?" you ask incredulously.

"Totally" he nods and you place your arms around his neck.

You don't know what to say so you choose to do. You move your face and kiss his lips. You really hope he reciprocates and, apparently, your pleas have been heard because he does reciprocate.

Your first kiss, the first of many punishments.

- 5 months earlier -

You know Peter is not someone who opens up easily, actually. You think you're his only friend (now more than friend) at this university.

When he's not with you, he's on patrol, attending his classes or doing homework in the library, which he usually does with you as well.

You are both excellent study partners. Peter, besides being your boyfriend, is your best friend and teacher. He is your person and you are sure that you are his.

However, you were surprised when you asked him why he never talked to you about his past friends or family.

"My parents died years ago. My aunt was my only family member and she died recently and my friends went to college in another state so we lost touch." Was the only thing he answered.

You were dying to know more. You were too curious. You weren't insensitive though and you didn't want to push him to tell you things you knew he wasn't ready to say.

Maybe you should have asked a little more. Maybe about why he ended his last relationship, because you knew he'd had one.

Or why he never talked about it. All of this was an unknown to you.

- 4 months earlier -

You had been dating for two months as an official couple when you both decided to move to the next level in your relationship.

Peter knew you were a virgin and had never done anything with anyone beyond a steamy make out session and you were surprised (and somewhat relieved) to learn that he hadn't either even though he had a girlfriend.

Peter commented that he and MJ had never gone any further, however, he was open to going as fast or as slow as you thought best.

And so it was, when in one of your hectic make out sessions in his small apartment, you ended up with your lips around his cock and the tip of it hitting the back of your throat.

Clearly you both agreed and that wasn't the only thing that happened that night. A few minutes after his cum ran down your throat, your boyfriend knelt on the bed and spread your legs and positioned himself between them.

More than returning the favor, Peter was going crazy over the soaking wetness of your hormones in the big wet patch that inhabited your panties. His arachnid senses were driving him to a point where he found himself drooling to taste you, to devour you as if he hadn't eaten in years.

And, with your consent. Peter wasn't going to stop until the last drop of your fluids was tasted by his tongue.

- 3 months earlier -

And then came your first fight. You were upset with Peter aka spiderman, because he hadn't answered your messages all day after going out on patrol the night before without telling you he had returned home safely.

His excuse was "my phone ran out of battery" but you knew it was a lie because every time you sent him a message, the word "received" appeared and two little popcorns reinforced it.

The messages did arrive. Peter just didn't want to answer them or was too busy to do so. Either way, he was lying to you and that's what bothered you the most.

You already knew he was Spiderman, what else could he be hiding from you? you asked yourself.

What you didn't know was that Peter made a trip to MIT every week to check on Ned and his ex-girlfriend MJ.

It was probably best that you didn't know. Parker wouldn't know how to explain it to you and he didn't want to have to.

You were his girlfriend now, you were practically all he had. But it wasn't easy for him to let go of what he had lost with such regret and he wondered how things would have been if everything hadn't gotten out of control.

And that was the reason why the brown-haired man didn't answer the phone. He couldn't answer it to the present, which was you. As he watched MJ, who was his past, study through the window of one of the libraries.

You were finally able to settle your argument. Peter apologized and said it wouldn't happen again. However, he never gave you a real explanation of what had happened and, since it was the first time, you preferred not to argue and let it go.

You didn't want to pressure him, although perhaps you were being too understanding.

- 2 Months before -

And you finally had your first time. The first time for both of you, together and as individuals.

It was a bit awkward due to your mutual inexperience but once you got the hang of it, you couldn't stop and it became a magical night that neither of you would ever forget.

"I'm glad you were my first time" you heard him murmur in your ear as he moved his index and ring fingers over your arm in a caressing manner.

"I'm glad you were mine" you smiled and left a kiss on his lips. All you wanted was to freeze this moment in time and treasure it forever.

You had had your first time with someone you loved and you knew he wouldn't leave you just because you had already had sex with him.

Peter was a kind and sweet man. He was everything you had always dreamed of in a perfect boyfriend and nothing could ruin the bubble of happiness you both had gotten into.

That night, the hazel-eyed boy couldn't sleep. His thoughts wandered as he watched you sleep and, for the first time since the incident. He allowed himself to be completely happy without feeling guilty about what he had left behind.

For the first time in a long time he allowed himself to feel complete and loved. In addition, he made the decision not to check back on the people of his past. He had to move forward just as they had done and because he had you.

You were now his world and all he wanted was to make you happy and protect you from all evil and danger.

That night. Peter understood that all the love and peace he had lost. Now he had regained them with only one person and that person was you.

It was time to make new friends, enjoy his present and look to the future.

- 1 month earlier -

One night, Peter was kissing your neck while you were sitting on his lap. You slid your hands under his shirt and heard him moan as your fingers brushed against something you didn't know was there.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" you asked in a sweet but concerned tone.

"It's okay, I'm fine" He tried to affirm you with one of his smiles but you knew it wasn't right.

"Can I?" You looked him straight in the eye as your hands traced the edge of his shirt. As soon as he nodded, you lifted it up and saw a cut that wasn't there yesterday. "Peter, what happened here?" your voice sounded sad. It was the first time you had seen a cut that size on his abdomen.

"I slipped and fell on a glass. I'm fine, it's not serious, darling" He ran his hand across your cheek and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"It's serious to me" you sighed and looked him in the eyes "Can I help you clean it and bandage it?" You mumbled. The brown-haired man nodded with a slight smile and watched you walk into the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to you, that was the first of many times you helped Peter with his bumps and bruises. Plus, you became his accomplice and his chair girl at the same time.

Now Peter Parker understood that he was not alone, he had you.

- Two weeks before -

You and Peter were at the fair. You had gone through most of the rides, especially the ones that make you throw up, and thought it was time to get something to eat.

"Hot dogs?" you asked as you held his hands in front of you.

"I'm dying for a hot dog" he nodded with a smile and tried to go for them but you stopped him.

"Wait here" you laughed. "Can't a girlfriend treat her boyfriend to a hot dog?" You raised one of your eyebrows.

"Sure she can" the brown guy laughed, grabbed your waist and kissed your lips "don't be too long."

"I won't" you smiled and kissed his lips one last time before walking towards the stall that wasn't too far from there.

Peter smiled as he watched you walk away until a voice called out to him. A voice he hadn't heard in a while.

"Peter?" said MJ behind him. Peter turned and froze not knowing what to say. "Peter it's me, MJ" Michelle took a step towards him. "I remember everything."

Peter's mind began to spin and his heart began to race.

"How?" your boyfriend asked in just a whisper.

"Maybe you were erased from my memory but your stuff wasn't" MJ smiled slightly "the necklace, your pictures and among other things were still in my room at my parents' house" she sighed. "It took me longer than I expected but I told you. I figured it out once, I'll do it again" her eyes were watery.

"You were always so smart" Peter smiled and took another step forward. He knew he shouldn't. You'd be back any minute but the shock and excitement was too strong. "You remember..." peter took her face in his hands.

"I do" she nodded smiling and wiped a tear from Peter's cheek.

Before either of them realized it, their lips were already pressed against each other. MJ remembered. That was all Peter was thinking at that moment and it would have been perfect except you were a few steps away from them, two hot dogs in hand and a completely broken heart as you watched Peter, YOUR Peter, kissing someone else.

- Present day -

"Y/n... please, I just want to talk" he pleads. His gaze is as pleading as a puppy's when he sees that you only have one bite left and you haven't given him any yet.

"I think I need time" you say without looking at him.

"Time? Y/n, please. Let me explain," says the chestnut while holding the door so you don't close it.

"What are you going to explain to me? Why you had your tongue in someone else's mouth while I was watching you?" You stop trying to close the door and look him in the eye.

"It wasn't just anyone" he walks past you and enters your apartment without your permission. "It's MJ."

"Your ex-girlfriend? That's supposed to make me feel better?" your head hurt. You hadn't eaten or slept well for two weeks.

"No, y/n. It's not that" he denies. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, just let me explain." He tries to take your hands but you take a step back.

"You said you were over because she was in another university" you cross your arms.

"That's partly true" he sighs. "A year and a few months ago Mystery revealed my identity to everyone. MJ was my girlfriend at the time and my best friend's name was Ned-" he takes a breath and continues. "I went to doctor strange and asked him to cast a spell but it all went terribly wrong and I-"

"What does this have to do with you kissing your ex?" you frown.

"The point is. Villains from many multiverses showed up and to right my wrong Dr. Strange had to cast a spell making everyone forget who Peter Parker is" he continued.

"Including MJ?" you ask.

"Including MJ" He nods.

"So you broke up because she didn't remember you. Not because you wanted to break up with her" you deduce.

"Yeah and, the night of the fair. MJ showed up and said she remembered everything. I don't know how but I got carried away with my emotions and did something stupid without thinking about anything else-"

"Or anyone else" you interrupt him and dry your tears with the sleeves of your sweater.

"You don't know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you. I love you more than anything, Y/n" his eyes crystallize.

"But you love her too" your voice cracks. "What do you plan to do now? What's your plan, Peter?"

"I... I don't know" he dries his nose with his arm.

"You love her. You didn't want to leave her." You sob. "Why don't you go back to her then? You can tell you're not over her" you were trying to stay strong but it was practically impossible.

You didn't even understand how you believed his crazy story, but this was Peter we were talking about. Spider-Man in a world where people disappeared for 5 years because a purple alien had snapped his fingers using the infinity gems. It wasn't too crazy to believe that everyone forgot who Peter Parker was.

"I am over her. I decided to stop watching her the first time we- we slept together" he whispers in a sigh.

"When?" you frown. "What?" you analyze word for word what he said "You decided to stop watching her? What the fuck does that mean?" Now more than hurt, you were confused and annoyed.

"I-. I used to go to her college and watch her and Ned just to see how they were doing and to make sure nothing bad happened to them." He tries to explain. "One of those times I forgot to text you and told you my phone was out of battery." He swallows.

"I knew you lied to me, Peter. You were never good at lying," you sob. "But I never believed you were watching your ex all this time" you sit back on the couch. You are weak, as weak as someone famished. "I thought we were both 100% in this relationship but you kept clinging to the past" your vision is blurry, you don't know if from tears or lack of sleep.

"I know I should have been honest. I shouldn't have lied to you. I should have trusted you with my thoughts and feelings... it's just not easy for me" he sits down next to you and his hand rests on your knee.

"So what are you doing here then, Parker?" you use his last name. You're being serious and he knows it. Although, if he's bothered by your name calling, he doesn't say so. "It's more than clear that you've been waiting for this moment for a long time. Why don't you go with her? I can't compete with that, I never could." Your eyes watch the tile and you just hope you don't faint. It all feels so overwhelming.

"It's not about competing. It's not a competition, love." The endearing nickname leaves his lips but doesn't give you butterflies this time.

"Of course it's about competing! What was me? Your consolation prize?" You look him in the eye. He can't hold your gaze, he knows he did too much damage. "You settled for me just because you couldn't have her? Well congratulations, your pleas have been heard. Now get the hell out of my apartment!" You raise your voice and get up from the couch. You are upset with him but with you more than anyone else for allowing yourself to love him without first asking more questions and pressing for an answer.

"Y/n please...don't say those things. You know I love you. I fell in love with you the moment I met you" his gaze is pleading. He doesn't want to leave, he doesn't want to leave you but he doesn't know how to stay either.

"I don't know if you love me, I don't know if it's true" you sniff. "What I do know is that I love you and you hurt me like I never thought you would. Don't get me wrong, besides your girlfriend, I was your best friend and as a friend I understand how happy you must be that your first love remembers who you are. But I also understand that that "first love" is not me. Pick her, Peter. Go to her. You were always more hers than mine. Even when we were together you were looking for her."

"---I don't want to be your second choice, it hurts too much." You squeeze your eyes shut to still your sobs. "Pick her, it was always her."

It has always been her.

-------------------------------------

Peter Parker Tags:

@raajali3 @fangirling-galore @powerpuffluuvv @itszulli @hallecarey1 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kaitieskidmore1 @lnmp89 @pure-a-tea @vixparker

'Choices' Tags:

@parkerpeterparker2004 @afro-hispwriter

If your user name is lined it's because tumblr didn't let me tag you :(.

#peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker and reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #no way home #spiderman tom holland #tom holland spiderman #tom holland #fanfic #fanfics #fanfiction #angst #angst with bad ending

[thefirst3chapters]

Overanalyzing the Danes family again and thinking about how they react to change:

Liz appears to have an affinity for material objects. When Luke goes to Liz and TJ's place in S7, they have lots of Renaissance faire decor, supplies for making jewelry, quite a few other decorative items, and what appears to be a sizable Beanie Babies collection. That could just be their style, but it's interesting that Luke mentions in S4 that Liz has ended up in situations where a guy leaves with her belongings and clears out her bank account. Perhaps having a lot of physical things around her that aren't very expensive and probably aren't family heirlooms makes her feel safe and gives her a sense of control when everything else changes. Those things might not be as likely to be stolen, and if they go missing she can acquire more.

In S6, Liz tells Luke after a successful run selling jewelry that she doesn't know what to do with all the money, and Luke's suggestion of putting it in a bank hadn't occurred to her. Maybe when Liz came across some money she liked going to thrift stores and getting as much as she could afford. I'm picturing her finding yet another lava lamp or doll and saying, "I feel a connection with this one, don't you think it belongs with us?" while four-year-old Jess, who has been dragging around Curious George Learns the Alphabet for months, stares at her blankly.

Most of the things Jess seems to value are sources of ideas (books and music) or have a clear practical purpose (his clothes, watch, and car). One notable exception is the bracelets he has in addition to the one he temporarily keeps from Rory, and there's that ring he has in AYITL. Maybe there's a story there, and it's possibly an interesting connection to Liz's interest in jewelry (cue the everlasting Gilmore Girls theme of being like your parents even if you don't realize it or try to resist it). Twice we see Jess moving out of town with just what he can carry, and it happened offscreen when he went back to New York. Luke points out that Jess doesn't have much when first gets to Stars Hollow, but he doesn't seem to mind and says that Liz will send the rest later. In that episode, Liz tells Luke it will be that Friday. When all this stuff arrives 10 episodes later, there is of course comedic value in Luke's frustration at being trapped by mountains of boxes, but it's interesting that there is so much, and Jess doesn't seem to care about most of it. Did Liz think Jess would be comforted by this in the way she might be? Even with the extra space when the addition is built, a lot of those things realistically would not have been kept. Jess doesn't seem to own much besides books when he's in his New York apartment either.

Liz is more gregarious than Luke and Jess, but she also appears less affected when people she loves are absent. Liz calls Luke to see if Jess got to town alright in his first episode but famously doesn't ask about Jess going back to New York for the holidays. In S4, Liz is happy to see Jess both times he is in town, but she doesn't go out of her way to find out where he is or if he's okay. In S6, when she projects her concerns by telling TJ that he's going to mess up their child and throws things at him, she tells Luke that TJ left her like all the guys before him, but she's calm about it because of her "new come-what-may philosophy." Luke's the one who intervenes and gets TJ to come back while Liz is busy making new friends, and then Liz is glad to reconcile with him. Maybe Liz's apparent ease with all of this and her inclination toward meeting new people is how she's gotten through all of the losses she's experienced. She's predisposed to moving on.

Jess isn't social by nature, and as a teenager he's extra resistant to being around other people. However, in the two examples we see, once he gets emotionally attached to someone, it's for life. Being estranged from Luke and Rory affects him deeply and for a long time, and when he reconciles with them he makes it clear how important they both are to him. When he's working at Truncheon, he and his co-workers are friends, and he's conversational enough to be a successful businessperson in that environment, but April still notes that "men in this family aren't chatty" when she meets him.

For Luke, the circle of people he likes being around is small, but to those people he's extensively loyal ("Once Luke Danes is in your life, he's in your life forever"). The absence of someone he cares about clearly distresses him, and he tends to seek solitude in response. His apartment isn't cluttered, but he seems to have kept high school trophies, and he has a strong emotional attachment to things that are connected to his family: the diner, the "William's Hardware" sign, the boat, and his grandmother's bedroom furniture. Luke's life has been a bit more stable because he's the one who stuck around to take care of his parents and run the family business, and he's often hesitant to accept change. When metaphorical storms uproot Liz and Jess and take them elsewhere, they have contrasting coping mechanisms that they take with them while Luke stays behind and tries to hold down the fort, and eventually Jess finds stable footing and is able to help him. Or something like that.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls meta #liz danes #jess mariano #luke danes

[loversipod]

Perfect Storm

Summary: Niall is a single dad who, when the train is late, accidentally meets y/n who falls asleep on his shoulder. You always meet twice in life, this time it was pure luck.

Pairing: single dad!niall x reader

Wordcount: 843

Trigger warnings: none

A/N: I’m sorry that I disappeared for so long with my writing. Just a lot is going on and work is so stressful. I would appreciate it when you share it :) I’ll try my best to get more out soon.

The spring night is cold, with a gentle breeze and a small rainstorm. The night sky was often clear and you could see the stars shining, but not today. It was a beautiful spring day. Parents were in the park with their children, he wished he could do it too. Their parents watched their children and they looked so happy, some of them were walking with their dogs.

The train was stuffed full of people with barely enough space to move properly through the crowd. His phone died so he watched the people around him. He was glad he had a seat. He is claustrophobic and passes out when he doesn’t have enough space.

He was torn from his thoughts, by a woman who tapped his shoulder. One seat was free next to him, only his backpack was in the way. “Is this seat free?” The first thing he noticed was her red cheeks and nose. It must be cold outside. The brown scarf hides a lot of her neck and chin. Her hair was beautiful, the colour was perfect and her skin looked flawless. Her voice is sweet and quiet, she talked gently.

It was embarrassing he just stared at her, he still hadn't answered her. He moved his backpack and nodded. “Do you have a charger?” He asked shyly with a soft voice. He doesn’t want to scare her. It’s weird to ask a stranger you just met. She searched her backpack and gave it to him, “thank you.”

Ten minutes passed and the storm got stronger. A lot of people left the train when they reached the city. Now some get inside their home and some leave the train to meet up with friends.

The raindrops started a race, the drops run the glass faster down and more joined their competition.

His ocean-blue eyes wander around, the strangers were interesting enough to observe. Especially the woman next to him. She had a hard time staying awake. He couldn’t watch her the whole time.

What would she think of him?

He fixed his eyes on his phone. He saw that he missed four calls, so he called immediately. Something must be wrong, at home. When someone picked up he heard the sweetest voice talking to him. She always sounds like honey, “I’m sorry sugar the train is delayed. I know I promised—” he stopped talking.

Her soft hair tickles a bit on his smooth skin. His gaze fixed on her. She fell asleep on his shoulder. The small voice said, “be safe,” he forgot he talked to her.

“I will be,” he said.

The brown-haired man started to watch the woman. Her breathing is calm and small puffs of air leave her mouth. She even snores quietly. What if she got a cold, after standing outside so long, on a cold evening?

“Excuse me,” he touched her arm gently.

She opens her eyes and you can see the shock in them. Her pupils are blown big out of fear, probably. She raised her head. “I’m sorry— I—” she started to talk but he immediately stopped her.

He flashed her a gentle smile, “it’s okay, I need to go, my station, it's next.” The beautiful woman stood up and was embarrassed.

“Have a good night,” she told him.

“Thank you, you too.”

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

The next couple of days he always wondered what if he asked her for her phone number. What was her name? Maybe he got a little crush, but that was over, after four days. He doesn’t have time for dating. He had his hands full with his job and his daughter needs a lot of attention too.

He heard the doorbell and saw behind the door the woman from the train. “Hello,” she whispers embarrassedly.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

He opens the door wider, “please come in.” He took a deep breath, “so you must be my new babysitter?” He was surprised to see her again. You only get your chance once. If you don’t ask, you never know what would happen, what could have become of it? And sometimes you get a second chance and it stands on your threshold.

“I’m y/n, sir,” today her hair was curly and her cheeks were again red but this time not from the cold. This time it was out of embarrassment. She couldn’t stop playing with her rings.

His pink lips left a chuckle, “I think we can both agree that sir is not the right thing to call me after you slept on my shoulder,” she looked into his face. He teased her about it, “please call me Niall,” he had a big smile on his lips.

After the interview, he decided it was y/n new job to take care of his little one. He liked her the most and she’s the youngest that applied for this job so he knew she isn’t strict with his daughter. He wants her to like y/n, and see her as a friend.

Who knows how their story will continue?

#singledad!niall #harry styles writing #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #niall horan #niall horan x you #niall horan one shot #niall horan writing #niall x reader #niall fluff #niall horan x reader #niall horan x y/n #niall one shot #harry one shot #harry x plus size reader #harry x reader #harry x you #niall horan au #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry fic rec #harry fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x y/n #niall fanfic #harry and niall #harry styles x you #niall horan fluff