#justcallmeangel fic tag

[just-call-me-angel]

Do You Want Fries With That?

Warning(s): degradation, slut shaming, Brian is icky and i want him in my bed, fingering, AFAB! Reader, Unsafe sex, party, underage drinking, smoking (cigarettes), let me know if there's warning I missed and I'll add it <3

Author's Note: My brother's in Christ thank you so much for your patience with me, I think I've finally gotten my writing inspo back which is poggers (Of course the first fic I post in a bit is a Brian Willcox fic because I have terrible taste in men)

Summary:  “You afraid you’ll actually like fucking someone as disgusting as me?” Bingo. Bullseye. Checkmate. Winner winner chicken fucking dinner.

Ao3

“Oh my god (Y/N) you should totally go flirt with him.” 

You tilt your head at Jessie, brows furrowed as you follow her line of sight to the greasy dark-haired boy standing at the counter—you recognize him from school, not by name of course, but you’d seen him in the halls or in his car smoking and skipping class. 

You frown, nose scrunching as you look back at Jessie, “Why would I do that?”

“Because it would be funny duh” she responds with a giggle, shoving her unfinished drink to the side. 

Maddy nudges your side,"I bet if you showed him a little bit of cleavage he'd cream his pants–" 

"Guys I don't know–" 

Kirsten rolls her eyes, "Come on, don't be such a fucking stick in the mud its just a little bit of harmless fun." 

You bite your cheek, fidgeting with the end of your skirt as you glance again at the boy behind the counter. He’s not bad looking in your opinion—but he’s not exactly the type of guy you’d usually go for. 

Still you can’t help but appreciate his looks a bit—he’s tall and lanky, nearly 6 feet tall if the height difference between him and his coworker is anything to go by. His black hair comes down to his shoulders and you get the feeling that he doesn’t really do much to take care of it—-and you hate that he pulls the look off so easily. 

Usually he’d be wearing all black so it’s a little jarring to see him in the bright yellow Mickey’s uniform—but he’s still got a long sleeved black shirt under it and his usual black leather bracelets buckled around his wrists. His pants are baggy around his waist, barely kept up by his fraying belt and you can just barely see the long chain hanging against one leg. 

If you’re completely honest he’s actually more your type than the guys you usually went out with—-you don’t admit that to your friends of course. 

“Come on (Y/N) you’d be doing him a favor— he isn’t exactly a chick magnet” Maddy chirps, brushing your hair behind your ear a bit. 

Jessie leans over the table, “Come on don’t be a prude—”  

You pout, “I’m not being a prude—”

“Sure had us fooled—” Kirsten teases, giving you a pointed look, “We’re not even asking you to go fuck the guy.”

The girls look at you expectantly and you instantly feel powerless, biting your cheek and averting your gaze as you shift to the edge of the booth, “Sorry I was being stupid—you guys are totally right it’s not even a big deal.” you force a giggle, smiling as you get up from the table.

Jessie smacks your ass and winks as you pass, “Remember to show a little cleavage—”

You weren’t a mean girl—-or at least you liked to think so—but you hang out with mean girls. In fact, that's what the majority of your friend group consists of—mean, bitchy, popular girls who found joy in putting others down and the asshole jocks they liked to screw around with.

And you blindly follow them—-at this point it’s hard to even make excuses for yourself. It was social suicide to stand up to them and as much as you hated the way they treated people, you also weren’t willing to give up the social status you had gained from them—who were you to complain when they had basically taken you under their wing when you moved to town in your freshmen year.

Really you were no better than them—so maybe you were a mean girl.

You were certainly on track to making that a proven fact as you made your way towards the counter to do as your friends had instructed. It's just a little bit of harmless fun––just flirt and embarrass him a little and be done with it.

The boy, whose name you still couldn't remember, had his back turned so he didn't notice you at first. His coworker—possibly another classmate—glances at you, brows furrowed for a moment before he gestures for the black-haired boy to look in your direction. He turns to you grumbling something about how much he hated his job, and for a moment you consider turning back. 

He stares dumbly at you, brows furrowing as he speaks in a very flat and bored tone, “Welcome to Mickey’s I’m Brian how can I help you.” 

Brian––you do vaguely remember hearing that name being tossed around—it seems so very fitting for him, though you can’t say you could possibly imagine another name for him.

You glance back at your friends—Maddy gives you a thumbs up, Jessie winks at you making a gesture like she’s encouraging you to show off your tits a bit more—Kirsten holds your gaze for a few seconds like she’s daring you to turn back. 

Fuck it—it was just a little harmless fun–-so what if that made you a mean girl. 

You turn to look at Brian again, giving him your best smile, honey-sweet and flirty as you lean forward, palms flat against the counter, chest on full display for Brian (and his coworker) to see. He seems almost completely unfazed, glancing at you with a look somewhere between boredom and annoyance.

He hardly even looks down at your chest, green eyes flitting down for the briefest of moments. Most men spent a good majority of their interactions with you just staring at your chest—especially after you hit puberty—god you still remember the exact moment boys started to look at you differently. So having a boy suddenly ignore you like this was—odd to say the very least. 

His eyes are a little slower in the way they drag back up from your chest to meet your eyes once more, still bored as ever as you lean in a little more, biting your lower lip in the way that always seemed to drive guys mad, “We go to school together don’t we?” 

He stares at you for what feels like ages and then shrugs, offering you nothing more than a grunt. You take it in stride, though it does throw you off a bit the way he doesn’t seem at all affected by your advances. Men were usually so simple, so easy to crack, a few flirty glances and they all fell to their knees in an instant.  Brian at his core is like any other man, just show him a little skin and he’ll crumble like all the rest. 

You giggle despite him having not said a word—it only seems to annoy him more as he rolls his eyes at you and sighs heavily, "Can I help you?"

You bob your head to the side, and smile thoughtfully, “Maybe—ya know I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you before, you’re kinda cute.” 

"Listen I’m gonna stop you right there, I know your type and im not interested" 

You blink at him, laughing awkwardly, "I don't know what you mean by that Brian."

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and huffing, "You think that just because you're a pretty girl that you can do whatever you want and get away with it—"

You stammer, face going red as you try to deny his accusation, but he talks over you.

"Let me guess, your friends dared you to come over here and put on a little show for me—see if I'd embarrass myself for your entertainment? You must be really fucking full of yourself if you think I wouldn't see right through your little nice girl act—"

"I—I wasn't—that's not why—"

He doesn't seem at all interested in hearing your excuses and honestly you don't even know what to say. 

"Listen Princess, I'm sure you're used to every other loser you fuck with giving you what you want and you probably think you're doing them some kind of favor but I'm not fucking interested, so either order or get fucking lost." 

You bite down on your bottom lip, swallowing a whimper as you blink back tears and Brian stares at you with disdain, the hint of a smirk on his lips as his coworker snickers behind him. You glance back at your friends and they’re all laughing at you—Kirsten in particular looks especially pleased by this turn of events as she points and giggles.

It shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does that their cruelty has been turned towards you—that’s just how they are sometimes. They only wanted someone to laugh at so they could feel like they were above it all—it didn’t matter that it was you they were throwing under the bus—you just needed to learn to take a fucking joke.

You don’t even fault them for it anymore and come tomorrow this would be a thing of the past and you would go back to following them blindly. But for now you have to focus on not crying in front of them all—especially Brian. 

“So what’s it gonna be Princess? Are you gonna order something or do you want me to keep embarrassing you in front of your friends?” He sneers, crossing his arms as you finally look at him,  “Or are you one of those girls that get off on being humiliated?” 

No—absolutely fucking not—you weren’t enjoying this—

He bobs his head to one side and lets his eyes drag over your body—it’s different from the way boys usually look at you—and it definitely should not make you feel hot between your thighs. His eyes drag back up to meet yours and you shiver, biting down a quiet choked gasp.

After a minute of struggling to think of a response all you can manage is a weak, “Fuck you—”

He chuckles darkly, tongue jutting out to wet his lips as he smirks at you, “You want fries with that?”

Your bottom lip trembles and you bite your cheek to keep from crying as you curl your fists at your side and turn on your heels, refusing to look Brian in the eyes as you rush back to your table. Your friends are still laughing, barely trying to muffle their excitement at your humiliation as you grab your bag off of the seat next to Maddy.

“(Y/N) babes, where are you going?” Maddy chirps, just barely hiding her giggle behind her hand. 

“I’m going home—”

Kirsten rolls her eyes, tapping her long nails on the table and sneering at you, “Oh don’t be so dramatic hun it’s not that big of a deal.” 

You shake your head, swallowing the urge to start crying as you try to maintain your dignity, “No it’s not this I just remembered I still haven’t finished that paper for History and I want to make sure I have it done before that party this weekend.” 

Jessie huffs on the other side of Kirsten, “Oh shit would you do mine? I totally suck at that History crap–”

“Yeah sure—just tell me what your topic was and I’ll get it done before Friday” 

“Awesome! Thanks babes you’re a total lifesaver!” Jessie giggles, “No hard feelings about tonight right?” 

Kirsten gives you a look, brow raised as you look down at your feet sheepishly and laugh nervously, “Yea–yea no hard feelings, it's not even a big deal or anything—I’ll see you tomorrow okay.” 

You don’t even let them finish their goodbyes before you turn tail and head for the exit, heels clicking loudly as you rush to your car. You let out a shaky breath as soon as you close your car door behind you and settle into the front seat. You don’t even know what’s more distressing— the humiliation— or the fact that you actually kind of liked Brian humiliating you. 

You blink away the tears starting to spill down your cheeks and stare through the windshield until you see Brian watching you from inside the restaurant with a smug little smile, green eyes staring right through you like he knew exactly how he was making you feel.

You had never in your life broken so many traffic laws to get home as fast as possible—ignoring the questioning look your father gave you from the living room when you slammed the front door shut behind you. 

You wish you could say that night was the one and only time you went to bed after making yourself cum on your fingers thinking about Brian and the way he had humiliated you. But you couldn’t get him out of your head—it was like your interaction at Mickey’s had turned a dial in your brain and now you notice him everywhere. 

He was driving you fucking nuts and it wasn’t like you could talk to anyone about it—your friends would have a field day if they found out you had the hots for Brian of all people. So you kept it to yourself, hoping the feelings would just go away—-God, you hadn’t felt like this since you first hit puberty. 

It didn’t help that he seemed to know exactly how he was affecting you, always giving you the same smirk whenever he caught you staring at him in the halls at school or while he was smoking by his car. 

Brian isn’t a guy you should get involved with—he was the kind of guy who fucked you like he hated you—-and he had made it abundantly clear that he hated you. Plus it was social suicide to be seen with a guy like him.

Maybe there was something wrong with you because you couldn’t seem to help yourself—you start seeking him out—-you try to convince yourself that it’s just to prove a point—it’s complete bullshit—you wanted him to humiliate you again.

The bell at the front door of Mickey’s jingles and your heels click on the tiled floor as you step into the restaurant. You glance around, pleased to find that there aren’t many people around—at least not anyone you went to school with. 

Brian was once again turned away from you, leaning back against the counter and chatting with the same coworker from last time—his name still escapes you and as horrible as that makes you feel, you can’t really bring yourself to care too much as you stand on the other side of the counter waiting patiently for them to notice you. 

His coworker glances at you clearly both confused and amused that you had returned—you don’t miss the way his eyes drag down your body before he speaks, “Brian you’ve got a customer.” 

Brian groans, stretching his arms out above his head before he turns to face you, he raises a brow at you when he recognizes you, “Look who decided to come back,” he looks past you as if searching the rows of booths and tables for your usual friend group.

You offer him your sweetest smile,” I came alone,” you laugh nervously, “No dare this time I promise”

Somehow it’s almost more humiliating knowing your friends aren’t there with you—-at least then you had the excuse of stupid dare to fall back on—

“Why did you come back then?” He smirks, tilting his head down at you. 

Good fucking question.

You bow your head sheepishly, “I came to apologize—”

“Bullshit” 

You flinch, looking up at him with furrowed brows and flushed cheeks, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me Princess.” He hums, eyes slowly dragging down your body, “I think you came back because you liked being humiliated—”

You stammer,“That’s not why—”

He leans against the counter and still towers over you, “You and I both know that’s bullshit.” 

All you can do is stare at him, blinking stupidly and struggling to speak.

He chuckles, pleased by your dumbstruck look, “I’ve got a break in 15 minutes if you wanna show me why you really came here.” 

“I came to apologize that’s all” you sound far less sure of yourself than you want to as you shake your head and anxiously watch him. 

He raises a brow, tongue swiping out for a split second to wet his lips as he smirks at you, “Come one don’t act all innocent now, I know you came here to get humiliated again—” 

You shake your head again, making yourself a bit dizzy, “That’s not—” 

He leans a little further forward his voice lowering, “You afraid you’ll actually like fucking someone as disgusting as me?” 

Bingo. Bullseye. Checkmate. Winner winner chicken fucking dinner. 

The whimper escapes your lips before you can even swallow it and you freeze instantly, hands trembling at your side as you fight to look away from Brian. He looks shocked for a split second, brows raised and cheeks slightly flushed before his lips curve up into a smug little grin. 

He chuckles darkly, “Well isn’t that cute—”

You can’t even bring yourself to speak—anything you say would probably only humiliate you further. You bite your lower lip and suck in a stuttered breath before turning on your heels, Brian’s laughter echoing behind you as you helplessly rush to your car—once again feeling far too hot between your thighs. 

You figured after your second time being humiliated by Brian that your thirst would be quenched and you could move on with your life—go back to screwing around with mediocre men and letting your friends walk all over you.  But your fixation only seemed to worsen the more you tried to deny it. 

Maddy’s boyfriend Hunter was hosting a big party tonight—that was your opportunity to forget all about Brian—or at least make a damned good attempt at forgetting. 

Except you weren’t exactly fond of the distractions being offered to you tonight. Maddy had been trying to set you up with her boyfriend’s best friend Max for nearly 2 months and you were beyond uninterested at this point. 

So you were adamantly avoiding him—slipping into the crowd of drunk teens and hiding whenever you saw him. You almost felt a little bad—Max wasn’t a bad guy—-though you honestly hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know him so you really couldn’t say that for sure. He was a jock who spent most of his time trying to bore you to death with football stats or trying not so slyly to get into your pants. 

Avoiding Max was made a little less annoying since he was easy to spot when he was twice your size and stood only an inch or two shorter than Brian. Still it was getting a bit tedious having to duck your head every time you saw him enter a room. You wanted to be able to enjoy the party—you’d dressed up in your cutest little slip dress that barely covered your ass—and you were barely getting to show it off because you were too fucking anxious to tell Maddy that you didn’t want to fuck Max.

You poke your head into the kitchen, sighing in relief when you don’t see Max in there waiting for you. You slip past a couple making out by the counter, swiping a red solo cup and pouring the first bottle you can reach into it—as long as it gets you tipsy you honestly don’t care how it tastes at this point.

At least you didn’t have to avoid Brian—he rarely came to these parties—you doubted he was even ever invited on the occasions that he did make an appearance. A part of you foolishly hoped that you would see him—-you weren’t doing a very good job of trying to forget him. 

You sip absently at your mystery drink, eyes darting over the crowd until you spot Jessie and Maddy making their way towards you, smiling and giggling drunkenly.  You do your best to look pleased to see them, raising your cup in silent greeting as they come stumbling into the kitchen.

“(Y/N)! Oh my god you bitch we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Jessie chirped, words slurring a bit towards the end.

Maddy giggles, leaning heavily against Jessie’s side, “Max has been looking for you too,”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at that, taking another sip of your drink as your eyes dart again over the crowd to make sure Max isn’t coming your way.

Maddy’s nose wrinkles at you and she scoffs, “Ya know you’re being a real bitch avoiding him all the time—” 

“I’m not being a bitch—”

“Yes you are—I don’t even know why I tried setting you guys up, you can’t even appreciate what I did for you”  

You sigh, tension already pulsing in your forehead, “I’m sorry. I just don’t really feel like myself right now—I promise I’m not avoiding him.” 

She squints at you, glancing at Jessie silently communicating with her before looking back at you again, “ Is this about that stupid thing at Mickeys?”

“What—” you sputter, nearly spitting out your drink, “No–it’s not—it’s not about that—I’m just stressed about school I guess I don’t know.” 

Jessie giggles, she's probably the happiest drunk you’ve ever met, “You just need some dick–” she hiccups and tugs on Maddy’s arm, “I wanna go dance”

You give a strained smile, laughing awkwardly, “Maybe you’re right.” 

Maddy seems to have lost interest in scolding you, excited at the offer to dance, “Ooo! Good Idea—(Y/N) stop avoiding Max” 

“Will do—” 

She doesn’t even wait for your answer before she’s dragging Jessie back into the crowd, both of them swaying precariously. Just as you think that you’ve still got a minute to relax before you have to hide again, you spot Max standing near Jessie and Maddy, the two girls instantly pointing in your direction— God this was shaping up to be the worst game of Hide and Seek that you’d ever played. 

You duck your head as quick as you can, darting out of the room and into the hall to find a new place to hide. 

You glance behind you for a second before slipping into a dimly lit room. The door shuts behind you and you lock it with a click, resting your head against the frame with a sigh of relief–-peace at last.

A cough echoes behind you and you nearly drop your cup as you turn to look at whoever you had locked in the room with you. You see a cloud of smoke first, and then as it gets blown out the window you find yourself staring into a pair of familiar green eyes.

"Don't look so disappointed to see me Princess, you'll hurt my feelings" 

You really had the worst luck.

You blinked stupidly at Brian as he sits in front of the window, a nearly finished cigarette perched between his fingers. 

"What are you doing here?"

He snorts, tapping his finger against the cigarette and watching as the ashes fall, "I could ask you the same thing— aren't girls like you supposed to be the life of the party"

You frown, crossing your arms over your chest, "I'm just taking a break"

He nods but doesn't seem at all convinced based on the little smirk he's got, "Your friends ditch you?" 

"No, they just–"

"Ya know I can be pretty good company when I want to be" he hums thoughtfully, putting the cigarette out against the window frame before tossing it carelessly out the window. He stands and even though you've got plenty of space between the two of you, you suddenly feel cornered. 

He takes a step towards you, tilting his head and smirking as his green eyes wander over your body, “I was sorta disappointed that you left so quickly last time we talked—but that little noise you made before you left made it worth it.” 

You whimper, biting your tongue and pressing your back against the door frame as he takes a few more steps closer to you,chuckling, “Who knew you were such a little freak—”

Brian crowds you against the door, one hand resting palm flat next to your head while the other reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, “What’s it gonna be princess—you gonna stop acting all innocent and let me fuck you—-or do you wanna go back out there and join your pathetic excuse for friends?” 

You scoff, doing your best to look as annoyed as possible despite the heat already pooling in your stomach, “Why would I–-Why would I fuck you?”

“Because you know I’ll fuck you in the way you need to be fucked,” he pauses, relishing in the way your breath stutters, “You want to be ruined don’t you princess—” 

“No I don’t—that’s disgusting—” 

At this point you aren’t even doing a good job of convincing yourself and Brian, like the asshole he is, looks all too smug about it. He drags one hand slowly down your arms until you can feel his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your dress. He hums in appreciation when he brushes over your panties, damp fabric telling him everything he needed to know. 

He leans in a little until you can feel his breath hot against your ear, “Then why are you so wet princess?” 

You whimper and he chuckles, pressing his thumb over your clit for a second before pulling his hand out from under your skirt. He tilts his head at you and rests his hand on your hip, stroking slow circles over the fabric of your dress, “You have a choice to make.” 

You should leave. You should slip out of his arms and go back out to the party. You’d probably have to deal with Max but maybe that was worth it. Or maybe Brian was right—and you hated him for that. More than anything you hated that you still wanted him. 

He’s giving you a way out—-a way to tell him to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine—-a way to maintain what's left of your dignity. And Brian is all too calm about the situation, shifting his leg between your thighs and smiling down at you like he isn’t giving you an impossible choice—-he doesn’t even seem worried that you’ll turn him down. 

Fuck him—fuck this party—fuck your friends—-fuck Max—-

Fuck it—

You don’t say a word, your hand curling into the front of his hoodie as you drag him down, crashing your lips into his before he can stop you. He seems genuinely surprised at first, eyes wide and cheeks flushed—and you almost think that you might have some power over him.

He lets you take control for all of 5 seconds before he presses you a little harder into the door, fingers digging into your hip as he kisses you with a bruising force. 

His lips are softer than you had expected—not that you would ever admit to ever imagining what they might feel like. And he tastes of cigarette smoke, shitty beer, and Mickey’s curly fries—it should disgust you—-more than anything it just makes you disgusted in yourself—and you love it.

You aren’t inexperienced by any means—and yet kissing Brian makes you feel like it's your first time all over again—-he’s rough and all consuming, dragging you impossibly close and leaving you dizzy. 

He moves his hand off of the door behind you, quickly cradling the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair. He tugs lightly at first, smirking into the kiss when you gasp and then tugs again a little harder until your mouth falls open in a pathetic little whine. 

“Needy little thing–,”he coos at you, kissing your jaw, “You just need someone to put you in your place don’t you princess?” 

He nips at the underside of your jaw, pressing the rough fabric of his pants against your clothed cunt until you respond with a whimper. You can feel him grin as he presses another kiss to your jaw, “You make such pretty little noises.” he praises, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so worked up—you’ve been imagining this haven’t you?” 

You try to shake your head, and he chuckles, “You don’t have to lie princess, we both know you’re just a pretty little whore who likes to get humiliated—otherwise you would have left already.” 

You really shouldn’t let him call you a whore—and you absolutely shouldn’t feel so turned on by it. 

“I’m not—” 

“Not what?” He raises a brow at you, “Not a whore?” You shake your head and he narrows his eyes at you, tugging your hair again until you let out a choked whine. 

“No—i’m not a whore—”

He tilts his head, “Then leave, because I’m not here to treat you nicely,” his fingers grip your hip harder, dragging you forward until his knee is once again pressed firmly against your cunt, “If you stay here I’ll show you exactly how much of a needy little whore you really are.” 

It’s not even a threat at this point, it's a promise. You don’t move an inch, still firmly pressed against the door despite him having loosened his hold on you slightly. He’s giving you another opportunity to leave and instead of taking it like you know you should—you roll your hips against his leg with a whine. 

Brian hums, “See that wasn’t so hard,” he pauses, tugging your hair and forcing you to tilt your head to look at him—His dark hair hangs over his face, just barely hiding the way his green eyes darken as he stares back at you, “You gonna let me ruin you?” 

It’s pathetic how quickly you submit to him with a quiet whimper, “Please—” 

He grins wolfishly, pushing you back against the door and grinding his knee between your thighs one more time before moving his hand from your hip back under your dress. He laughs when you let out an airy whine, cunt clenching around nothing as his fingers brush over your dampened panties, “Fuck—you’re soaked—you really need it bad don’t you baby—that why you were being so bratty before?” 

Your bottom lip trembles and you look away sheepishly as he drags his thumb over your clit with a low hum of approval against your collarbone. You bite your tongue, swallowing a moan as you arch into his hand, clinging to his hoodie with trembling hands. 

“You get this wet for all the jocks you spread your legs for”

You want to tell him that you actually haven’t even fucked that many guys—and most of them weren’t even jocks—but he makes it clear he isn’t actually looking for an answer as he works he shoves your panties to the side and runs his fingers over your slick cunt making you inhale sharply before can say a single word.

“I bet they all treat you like a little cumdump don’t they?” he hums, thumb grazing your clit again, “Dumb little thing like you probably begs them to fill you up, right?” 

You whimper, “No–-No—I don’t—I make them use condoms—” 

“Oh yea? Maybe you aren’t as stupid as I thought—” He teased, fingers prodding at your entrance, “I’ll fix that though don’t you worry, I’ll remind you what a dumb little slut you are.” 

“I’m not—”

He clicks his tongue, and bites your shoulder, “Shut up—I don’t wanna hear shit from you unless you’re begging me to fuck you.” 

You fall silent in an instant, save for a choked whine as your cunt clenched around nothing. He drags the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders with his teeth and hums in approval when you move obediently to pull them off your arms, letting the top half of your dress bunch up around your waist. 

His eyes go wide for a second, pupils dilating as he stares at your exposed chest, “You really are a whore—-were you hoping to get some action tonight?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, letting go of your hair in favor of palming one of your breasts, a groan slipping past his lips when he pinches your nipple between his index finger and thumb. 

He drags his tongue down in a slick line between your breasts, chuckling lowly when you shiver, fingers trembling as you grasp his shoulders, “It’s real lucky I found you when I did,“ he groans as his other hand moving again between your thighs, middle finger slowly pressing into you as you let your head fall back against the door with an airy whine of his name. 

 “Holy shit—you’re fucking tight.” 

Your cunt tenses around his finger as he pulls back out and then pushes back in a little faster, this time slipping his middle and index finger in. It pulls the air right out of your lungs and you are reminded very suddenly that no other guy had ever actually finger fucked you—until now. 

Brian had been right about one thing—most guys you hooked up with were strict followers of the hit it and quit it rule and that usually meant they didn’t focus very hard on anything except getting their dicks inside of you. So foreplay wasn’t really something you were used to—unless of course it involved sucking a guy off. 

And now Brian—-of all the people in the world it had to be him—-was quite literally blowing your mind, curling his fingers in your cunt and dragging the most pathetic little noises out of you. 

Brian doesn’t even seem fazed, too busy latching onto your tits and fucking you on his fingers. It was like he didn’t even realize that he was shattering your world—or maybe he did notice and he just didn’t care.

“Jesus—look at you—” his voice is low, nearly a growl as he sucks a bruise onto your chest, “You like having my fingers inside you, don’t you princess?”

You nod, “Feels so—ah—fuck—good—”

A third finger slips into your tight heat and you choke on your words, hand flying up to cover your mouth as you toss your head back against the door. Brian hums, thumb circling your clit, “Shit—you act like you’ve never been fingered before—”

You bite your hand, looking away from him and that’s all the answer he needs as he stares up at you with a devilish smirk.

“Oh that’s just cute—“ he chuckles, jerking his wrist suddenly and driving his fingers a little deeper into your cunt, dragging a broken sob from your lips, “No wonder you’re such a needy little thing,” 

His pace quickens and with every curl of his fingers you could feel yourself being dragged closer and closer to the edge. You can barely think or speak or do anything except whine helplessly, trembling as you cling to his shoulders. Brian relishes in every little sound you make and every weak roll of your hips only seems to spur him on.

“You can’t cum til you beg for it princess,” he warns, pressing an openmouthed kiss to your jaw, “Even pretty little whores like you have to ask for permission.” 

He knows you're close—-so close you can practically taste it. You don’t even try to argue with him—You’re far too focused on the possibility of getting to cum that you can’t be bothered to fight him.

“Ple–please” 

“Aw I think you can do a little better than that princess.” he teases, the pad of his thumb circling your clit, making your cunt clench around his fingers. 

Distantly you consider telling him to fuck off—the words die on your tongue almost as quick as they came. He looks so smug, tilting his head to one side and smirking as you struggle to speak, words escaping you with every drag of his fingers.

“Please—-please Brian”

“I need it—please”

“Please—I’ll do anything—please—”

His hand stills between your thighs and you have to bite down a frustrated whimper as he grins at you, “Admit that you’re just another cockhungry whore and I’ll let you cum.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, “I’m—”

“Go on princess, say it—say ‘I’m a cockhungry whore’” he hums.

“I’m a—I’m a cockhungry—whore.” 

“Atta girl” He groans, wasting little time driving his fingers back into your cunt, dragging you right back to the edge—it happens in the blink of an eye and your entire body shakes with the force of your orgasm. 

Brian is relentless—he drags your orgasm out until you can barely stand, thighs trembling as you cling desperately to him, choked little whines falling from your lips. He fucks you through every minute of it—-making it nearly impossible for your completely come down from the high. 

You fall limp against him, whining pathetically when he keeps toying with your clit and you can hear him laughing through the haze that follows your climax and all you can do is blink stupidly at him. He brings one arm around your waist to keep you steady while the other remains between your thighs. 

He coos at you sweetly “What’s the matter princess? That too much for you.” 

You nod blearily, “sensitive—” 

“We aren’t done yet princess” he hums, dragging his fingers roughly over your clit one more time, chuckling when you let out an airy gasp, “You want my cock don’t you?” 

It’s pointless to deny his question—it wouldn’t sound believable even to you. 

You take a shaky breath, nodding sheepishly and peering up at him with wide eyes. He groans and pulls you closer, lips crashing roughly against yours. The kiss is short and sloppy, but it still takes the breath out of you like the first kiss had and he chuckles at the way you whine when he pulls away. 

He is gentle as he guides you to the bed on the other side of the room, he only teases you once about the way your legs shake as you walk before he helps you sit on the edge of the bed.  

You tilt your head up at him watching curiously as he pulls his hoodie off, tossing it carelessly to the ground. He smirks but doesn’t say a word as he unbuckles his belt, working his pants open enough that he can tug them down to his thighs, dragging his boxers with them. 

You stare, wide eyed and red cheeked at his cock—he’s big—bigger than any guy you’d ever been with. It’s both terrifying and thrilling. 

He raises a brow at you, “What are you waiting for princess, thought you said you were a cock hungry whore?” 

You pout, face burning a little hotter, “I only said that because you wouldn’t let me cum otherwise—”

“You’re a shitty liar, ya know that?” he hums, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his cock before you can pull away, “Look at that, look at those pretty hands on my cock.” 

You whimper at the feeling of his cock warm and heavy in your hands, the bright pink of your nails contrasting brightly off of his skin. 

Brian chuckles at your reaction, hand reaching up to brush stray hairs out of your face, "You were made for this princess— think about what all your little friends would say if they saw you like this—" he traces his thumb over your bottom lip and groans as he  bucks his hips forward pushing his cock against the palm of your hand, "What do you think they'd say, hm?"

"I–I–I don't know—"

"Oh but I think you know exactly what they'd say," he clicks his tongue, pressing his thumb down a little harder on your lower lip, forcing your lips to part, "They'll think you're a whore–"

"No–no they—"

He hisses, shaking his head as he pushes his thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue until you fall silent, save for a quiet whimper, as he reaches down with his other hand to guide your hand along his cock, "They already know you're a whore—they probably knew you'd spread your legs for me didn't they?"

You try to shake your head or pull your hand off his dick but he doesn't let you move an inch that  he doesn't want you to. Brian smiles, guiding your hand back and forth along the length of his cock. You stare at him and then down between the two of you. 

Instinctively you squeeze his cock, a sense of pride rises inside your chest when Brian groans. He presses his thumb back a little farther on your tongue, spit pooling in your mouth and licks his lips as he smirks at you. You squeeze his cock again and after a moment he pulls his hand away from your mouth, grunting as he shoves you back against the mattress. 

“You still want my cock princess?”

You nod after a moment, fists curled into the sheets as you stare up at him. He's surprisingly gentle as he traces his hands over your thighs, hiking the skirt of your dress back up around your waist. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties and he taps your hip, beckoning you to lift your bottom half off of the mattress so he can drag the thin fabric down to your ankles. 

He shifts a little closer, cock brushing against your thigh and you roll your hips in anticipation. He raises a brow at you, slightly shocked by your movement but he doesn't move to stop you, instead he reaches down between the two of you with one hand to guide his cock against your  wet cunt, watching your reaction with a pleased groan when you whimper at him.

Brian presses into you slowly, stretching you with every inch of his cock. He groans, fingers digging into your hips as he bullies his cock deeper. It drags the air from your lungs and forces a string of breathless curses and whines to fall past your lips.

"Fu—fuck—oh fuck—you're so tight—" he hisses, biting his lower lip as he watches every inch of his cock disapear into the tight heat of your cunt. It takes him what feels like ages to bottom out, cock hitting the deepest parts of you until you swear you can feel him in your belly.

Mercifully he stops moving, seemingly just as overwhelmed as you by the feeling of you clenching around him. His mercy lasts for scarcely a minute before he rolls his hips and drags his cock out a few inches before driving it right back in with a low groan. 

You choke, trembling hands reaching up to grasp at his t shirt, "bri—brian—fuck"

"It's alright princess—fuck you were made for this—" hums, leaning forward, one hand gripping your hip while the other reaches up to hold your face. You whimper as he pulls his hips back until only the tip of his cock remains.

“Brian—bri—wait—” 

He slams back into you forcing a choked sound from the back of your throat, “fuck—you—-how—how are you so fucking tight?” he starts thrusting slow and hard, gripping your hips as his pace quickens. 

“Bri—”

One hand drags up from your hip to tangle into your hair, forcing you to look up at him, “What is it pretty girl—” 

A whimper spills from your lips and you reach for him, unsure if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer, “bri—brian—please—-you’re—-you’re too big—-slo—slow down”

He laughs, driving his cock into you a little harder, “You think I’d believe that I’m bigger than those fucking jocks you spread your legs for?” 

You tremble under him,”Please—bri—-please—I’m serious—-fuck—”

“Oh thats real fucking cute—” he grins, tugging on your hair and groaning when your cunt clenches around him, “Don’t you worry princess—I told you I’d take care of you.” 

He reminds you again that he has no intention of being nice or gentle with you as he fucks you just as relentlessly as he had when he had you cumming on his fingers. You barely even register the fact that he’s not wearing a condom—-you hate that your cunt flutters at the thought of him filling you with his cum. 

And yet you beg him for more. Clinging desperately to him and sobbing with every bruising thrust of his cock. He grips your hip and holds you in place as he sets a brutal pace fucking you—-tearing you apart and then putting you back together with every drag of his cock—-

You’re ruined for anyone else—-you can’t even deny that at this point—-though you obviously weren’t about to admit that outright to him—-especially not when he’s still in the process of ruining you.

It doesn’t even take long for him to send you headfirst into another orgasm-—-it’s sort of terrifying how easily he brings you to the edge—-normally you were lucky to be able to orgasm even once—-

The only warning you get is the string of curses that spill from his lips and the jerk of his hips as he drives his cock into you as deep as it will go—your cunt flutters again and he spills into you saying your name all soft and pretty like a prayer.

He falls with you and your vision blurs—time slows and all you can feel is Brian—he surrounds you—consumes you—you drown in him.

His pace remains just as relentless and unforgiving even as he fucks you through your second orgasm and all you can do is cling to him. He curls over you, dragging your hips against his and mouthing at your neck, sucking a few more bruises along the way, choking on a whine every time he feels you squeeze around him.

“Fuck––Bri—Brian” you babble as his thumb grazes back over your oversensitive clit.

He shifts, pressing a few lazy kisses up your buck and along your jaw and then drags you into a sloppy kiss. He pulls out, smirking into the kiss as you whimper at the loss of his cock, cum already beginning to drip out of your cunt. 

He rolls over, laying down beside you on the mattress. You come down from the high slowly, and even then you feel like you're stuck in a fog. You feel good—perfect actually—perfect and full and warm—

Without thinking you shift a little closer to him, curling against his side with a content sigh. At first he leans into it, arm curling around your side, hand tracing over your hip.

His laugh startles you,"I didn't expect you to be so clingy afterwards" 

In an instant you pull away from him, dragging yourself up off the bed with a huff, "Fuck you Brian—"

He laughs again, leaning up on his elbows to look at you with a smirk, "Pretty sure I did fuck you already princess," he pauses, eyes dragging down between your thighs, "unless that's someone elses cum dripping from your cunt—"

"Fuck off." You hiss, pulling the end of your dress down and glancing around in search of your panties. 

"You looking for something pretty girl—"

You turn to him as he shifts towards the end of the bed, tugging his pants up and giving you a smug grin. You narrow your eyes at him as he reaches his hand into pocket and lifts your lacy blue panties up in front of you. 

"Give them back."

He thinks for a moment and then shrugs, "No I don't think I will,"

"Brian—"

"Nope" he hums, shoving the panties back into his pocket, "I think I'll keep em as a souvenir"

You curse under your breath, preparing to argue further until he gets up off the bed, taking a step towards you, tilting his head at you, " —maybe i'll give em back to you next time"

You bite your lip, stepping backwards and shaking your head, "We can't do this again—"

 Brian raises a brow, “Who says?” 

You fidget with the hem of your dress, pulling down a bit farther to cover your thighs—-you really wish you hadn’t gone with such a short dress—it was doing very little to hide the slick coating of your inner thighs. 

You shrug after a moment, “We just can’t—-this was fun and all but—” 

“Oh it was fun was it—” 

“Well—I mean—”

He laughs—another step forward—-and another two backwards until you reach the door—- “You admitting you had fun with little old me? I’m flattered truly—-and I’ll be honest you’re a better fuck than I thought.” 

You turn the lock and grip the door handle—-glancing at him with a frown before opening the door slightly—- “Let’s just agree to never discuss this okay?” 

He looks at you for a moment, and then shrugs, leaning down to swipe his jacket up off the ground, “If that’s what you want then that’s fine by me,” he pauses as if considering his next words carefully—though you know for a fact he rarely ever thinks very clearly about any choice he’s ever made—- “Wouldn’t want your friends to find out what a little whore you are would you?” 

In an instant you spin on your heels, just barely catching yourself as you pull the door open enough to slip through, losing yourself in the hordes of teenagers moving through the house—-as you pull the door shut behind you, you catch another glimpse of Brian, winking as he pulls a lighter and a fresh cigarette from his pocket—-

You left the party early—-mercifully you didn’t run into any of your friends—-though you did catch Max’s eye as you slipped past an incredibly stoned classmate—-you imagined you would be hearing from Maddy or Kirsten later on—-probably Kirstem, these days it seemed like getting on your ass was what brought her the most joy. 

That wasn’t your biggest priority though if you were honest—-you really should not have fucked Brian fucking Wilcox.

#brian wilcox #brian wilcox x reader #brian fast food nation #fast food nation #paul dano fanfic #paul dano #danonation #this ones dedicated to danonation #just angels updates #just angel's thots #justcallmeangel #justcallmeangel fic tag #justcallmeangel masterlist #fanfic #reader is afab #reader insert #reader's friends are awful #nsft fic #hugs and kisses to my beloved bunni for helping to motivate me for this fic

[just-call-me-angel]

Lullabies from Apartment 3B

Nanin Adalulrasan (OC)/Sammael(OC)

Main Tags: Meetcute, Single Parent, Tattoo Artist

Nanin is not the neighborly type. Honestly, he doesn’t give two shits about the people who live in his apartment building. He’s content to live and let live for the most part. That is, of course, until his new next door neighbor moves in. Who plays Slipknot at this fucking hour anyway? --- A Modern Au fic in which Nanin Adalulrasan (@quitecontrarycherry's OC) and Sammael 'The Hound' (My OC) are neighbors living in the same apartment building.

#dragon age oc fic #just angels updates #justcallmeangel fic tag #justangel's fic: Lullabies from Apartment 3B #oc fic

[just-call-me-angel]

Clever Girl

Chapter 5 - The Power of Killing

Warnings: All chapters after this point will contain spoilers!! graphic depictions of murder, edward is a lil creep who thinks killing is a good form of seduction and i kinda love him bc of that

Author's Note: I apologize that this took so long, I have been sister struggling with this chapter omg I ended up making it more of a filler chapter bc i was struggling so much, I promise the next chapter will be better and will contain smut lol. No riddle this time because my brain hates me :( riddles will continue in the next chapter <3 Good job to everyone who got the last riddle correct btw!! The answer was Power! Ily guys so much and I appreciate the continued support

Summary: It’s a bit of a shock when you hear about the Mayor’s death the day after Halloween, but you couldn’t exactly say you were all that torn up about it. Men like him spent most of their lives getting rich off of killing people like you– it was really only fair if they shared the same fate–hell they probably deserved worse.And worse was exactly what Mayor Mitchell got.

Chapters: || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 ||

Living in Gotham had always been interesting. Though the longer you live in a city like Gotham, the more interesting became plain fucking annoying. And you’d lived in Gotham all your life so you’d pretty much seen all there was to see.

That was until you started talking with Edward Nashton. He made everything interesting. You’d never met someone quite like Edward. You hadn’t yet decided if that was a good thing or not.  

But you liked the addition of Edward being in your life. Knowing you got to see him when you got into work gave you something to look forward to. You’d spent most of your living day today out of pure spite but now you had Edward and his riddles to get you out of bed. 

It’d be even better if he got you into bed though.

You’d only been talking to the guy for a few weeks and already you wanted him bad. Real bad. 

You wanted to believe that he wanted you just as badly. But Edward wasn’t always easy to read. Despite his awkward fumbling, Edward was meticulously careful about what he let you learn about him. 

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse behind his carefully constructed mask. 

He’d get frustrated if you didn’t understand one of his riddles and you’d watch as his eyes darkened at you. “You’re not stupid. I know you can figure it out.” You’d blink and he’d be back to his usual self, smiling sweetly as he offered to repeat the riddle. 

It probably should have scared you. 

Unfortunately, you’d never been a very good judge of character.

Sometimes you felt scared for him though. He’d been saying odd things and giggling to himself and changing the subject with a riddle if you asked him any questions.

He’d disappear for a few days without warning and then come into the diner like he hadn’t been driving you up the wall with worry. Eventually, you gave him your phone number. He’d been so confused when you passed him a little note with your number carefully written beneath your name. 

“You’re giving me your number?”

You laughed, despite being a bit annoyed with him, “Yea, maybe shoot me a text next time you decide to disappear without warning.” 

He looked confused for a moment and then smiled at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “You were worried about me?” 

You snorted, “Of course I was… Besides, how am I supposed to solve your riddles if you aren’t even here to ask me them?” 

You’d never seen Edward get so red in your life.

At first, he used your number sparingly. Still, you took the chance to message him whenever you could, even when you knew you’d be seeing him later. You asked him about his day, told him about the next-door neighbor who always played his music obnoxiously loud, and sent him pictures of the stray cats that lived in the alleyway next door. 

It helped for a while that you could message him when you were taking a different shift or you were taking a day off of work but Edward wasn’t as forthcoming. Most of the time his responses were either one-word responses or his usual cryptic riddles. 

He was awful at updating you if he decided not to come into the diner. And you tried hard not to feel hurt by it– he had no commitment to you after all—but it wasn’t easy.

Gotham wasn’t exactly the kindest place to people like him–you knew that firsthand. 

So it worries you when you don’t see him for a few days and he stops returning your texts. Normally he’d come in late at least and apologize profusely for keeping you waiting. But you were receiving complete radio silence from him now. You were starting to wonder if you’d done something wrong.

But living in Gotham also meant you didn’t always have time to worry about your own bullshit. You had to work, pay your rent, and try to drown out the constant stream of news stories about poor men, women, and children dying in the streets because of rich pricks who wanted to make a quick buck.

It’s a bit of a shock when you hear about the Mayor’s death the day after Halloween, but you couldn’t exactly say you were all that torn up about it.  Men like him spent most of their lives getting rich off of killing people like you– it was really only fair if they shared the same fate–hell they probably deserved worse.

And worse was exactly what Mayor Mitchell got. 

It really should have made you feel at least a little horrified to find out he’d been violently murdered in the safety of his home. But it didn’t. In fact, it thrilled some twisted part of you to know he’d suffered. 

You almost wished you had been there to see it. Of course, you didn’t say that to Darcy or any of your coworkers when it came on the news that night during your shift. 

“Oh that poor family,” Darcy said, shaking her head as she listened to the reporter on TV go over the case. You looked up from where you stood at the counter, trying hard not to roll your eyes when the screen showed Commissioner Pete Savage standing in front of the Mayors home droning on about how terrible it was to have lost a man as incredible as Mitchell. 

Darcy pats your back and shuffles past you, “Alright hun, im gonna head on home, do me a favor and ask Chris to walk you home tonight, I don’t want you walking alone knowing there’s some maniac out there.” 

This time you did react, snorting, “Do I look like a corrupt official to you?” 

Darcy turned back to look at you, brows furrowed, “(Y/N) this isn’t something you should joke about.” 

You lower your head, “Sorry Darce.”

She sighs and shakes her head, “Just promise you’ll ask someone to walk you home–for my sake please” 

You catch her gaze, and any intention to argue with her leaves you instantly when you recognize the exhaustion and worry in her eyes. 

You muster up a smile and nod, “I promise.” It's a lie–just like all the times you’d promised to quit smoking–a lie she readily accepts with a tired smile as she moves towards the door, gathering her purse against her hip as she does.

“Maybe ask that sweet boy you seem so smitten with to walk you home.”

You stumble, just barely catching yourself from falling. You hear her chuckle, and the bell of the door chime, and by the time you look up, she’s already out of your sight leaving you huffing as you stare at the puddle of coffee that you’d spilled onto the floor. 

Of course, she knew teasing you about Edward would get you all flustered. You couldn’t hide anything from Darcy, no matter how hard you tried. 

You sigh looking around, thanking your lucky stars that there aren’t many customers left in the diner this late at night. You grab the closest towel and set the half-empty coffee pot aside on the counter as you slowly sink to your knees to clean up the mess.

The bell chimes and you almost expect to hear Darcy’s honey-sweet drawl. Instead, you hear the quiet tap of shoes on the tiled floor and the rustle of paper against the counter. A customer—Great.

You don’t look up as you continue cleaning up the spill, “I’ll be with you in a moment.” you call behind you, receiving no response except silence at first.

You grab another dish towel, bending forward a bit more to mop up the last of the spill. You can feel someone watching you and ---fuck you really should have worn a longer skirt to work. 

“People make me, save me, change me, raise me. What am I?” 

Shit—

You yelp, scrambling to stand up, face bright red as you look up at Edward. He tilts his head at you, giving you a teasing smile. You huff at him, crossing your arms, “Edward!-- give a girl a warning before you sneak up on her.” 

He laughs a bit, “Sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you.” 

Fucking liar.

You can feel his eyes dragging down your body, catching on your exposed thighs beneath your slightly bunched-up skirt. It’s stupid but you let your hands fall to your skirt, fingers toying with the hem of it for a moment, and—fuck—the way Edward’s breath catches in his throat has you feeling a little dizzy. His cheeks go pink when you finally brush your hands over your skirt to flatten it back over your thighs.

You stare at him for a moment just taking in the sight of him. He looks nervously up at you, cheeks flushed as he gives you a small smile. You fight the urge to smile back at him, reminding yourself that you hadn’t seen him in a few days and he’d been avoiding answering your texts. 

You cross your arms, “Where have you been anyway?”

 His smile falls and he bows his head sheepishly. After a minute he takes a breath and looks up at you again, smiling, “People make me, save me, change me, raise me. What am I?”

You raise a brow at him, placing a curled fist over your hip, “Edward come on you had me worried–”

Edward shakes his head, clicking his tongue, “Answer the riddle and I’ll explain” You pout at him but don’t argue, rolling your eyes a bit at Edward’s cryptic nature. God, you really wish it was easier to stay annoyed with Edward. 

With a sigh, you grab a clean mug and set it down in front of him, carefully pouring coffee into the mug, “You want a slice of pie again? We still have some of your favorite left from the morning crowd.”

He nods, quietly thanking you and you shuffle off to the kitchen. Chris is sitting on an upside-down crate screwing around on his phone and nearly jumps out of his skin when you tap his shoulder.

“Fucking hell– (Y/N) I thought you were Darcy coming to kick my ass.” He pouts when you laugh at him, patting his arm and shaking your head at him. 

“Chill out, Darce went home a little bit ago, I just came to get a slice of pie for Edward” 

He nods, passing you a clean plate to put the pie on, “Edward? You mean that freaky guy who's always doing puzzles and shit?”

“Edward’s not a freak, don’t be an asshole Christopher.” You hiss, cutting a slightly larger slice of pie and placing it on the plate for Edward. 

Chris laughs, leaning back against the counter, “I didn’t realize you two were on a first-name basis with the guy” He pauses to open the fridge, allowing you to grab the whipped cream, “Ya know if you keep spoiling the guy with extra pie and shit you’re gonna give him the wrong idea.” 

You shrug, trying to hide the blush rising to your cheeks, “Shut up or I’ll tell Darcy you’ve been joining me on smoke breaks again.” 

He snorts, raising his hands in mock surrender, “Jeez no need for the threats (Y/N)” he pauses for a moment and then his eyes go wide as if he’s realized something important, “Holy shit–you like him don’t you?”

You nearly drop the plate, turning around to look at him, “What–no–”

He shakes his head, laughing, “No no– don’t deny it now (Y/N), you like him– I never pegged you for the girl to go for guys like him.” 

You pout, crossing your arms, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

He raises a brow at you and snorts, “Come on– you are way out of that guys league–and besides he’s kind of creepy– the guy is always staring at you.” You glare at him, grabbing the plate and shoving past him. 

He stumbles a bit and sighs, “Wait come on– (Y/N) I’m sorry–I didn’t mean it” you pause at the door to look at him, “I’m just being an ass. I’m sure Ed’s a cool guy–” 

“Edward” you correct with a stern look.

“Right–” he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck, “Just be careful, there’s a lot of creeps in Gotham ya know?” 

You sigh and manage a smile, “I appreciate your concern Chris–really I do—I’ve lived in Gotham long enough that I think I can handle myself, okay?” 

He nods, “I know you can” he pauses and offers you a sheepish smile, “We cool?” 

You take a minute, resting the plate against your hip and pressing your index finger to your chin as if deep in thought for a moment before grinning at him, “We’re cool–just quit being such an asshole all the time, yea?”

He gives you a cheeky grin, “ You’ve got yourself a deal if you let me bum a cigarette off of you.” 

You snort, “I thought you told Darcy you quit.” 

“And you tell her you’re gonna quit every other week and yet here we are.” he retorts.

You shrug, setting the plate down on the counter for a moment while you dig into the front pocket of your apron, “Fair point.” you chuckle as you pull out the half-empty pack, slipping two cigarettes out and passing them both to him. 

He gasps with a mocking shocked expression, “Two whole cigarettes? Must be my lucky day” You roll your eyes shoving the pack back into your pocket and picking the plate back up, turning to push the door to the dining area open again. 

Edward barely acknowledges you when you set the plate down in front of him, too distracted by his daily crosswords. You smile fondly, watching as he carefully pencils the answer into a row of boxes with a pleased little giggle. 

After a moment, he glances at the pie, brows furrowing a bit as he looks up at you, “This slice is bigger than normal.” 

Of course, he would notice something like that.

You shuffle nervously in front of him, “Oh? I uh–I didn’t even notice.” 

Nice, that’ll definetly convince him.

He stares at you curiously, and you suddenly feel far more exposed than you had earlier with your skirt bunched up. His lip twitches and he smiles at you, giggling a bit as he drags the plate closer to him “Pumpkin pie is my favorite, you know.” 

You nod, fidgeting with the end of your apron, giving him a nervous smile, “Really? It's my favorite too.” 

He looks up at you again just as he’s swallowing the first bite of pie and offers you a quiet hum of approval before replying, “Do you remember the riddle I gave you before?” you shake your head and he smiles, pushing his glasses up his nose, taking a deep breath before he repeats the riddle for you, “People make me, save me, change me, raise me. What am I?”  

You sigh leaning over the counter a bit, unbothered by the way Edward’s eyes catch for a moment on your slightly exposed cleavage–you’d caught him staring more than a few times since meeting him and you’d be lying if you didn’t encourage it a bit by leaving a few extra buttons open on your shirt. 

People make me, save me, change me, raise me. What am I?

You thought on the riddle for a bit, glad to have Edward sitting in front of you again after days of worrying over him. You really hoped he had a good explanation for his disappearance–though you doubted you’d be able to stay annoyed with him even if he didn’t—still you’d probably remind him that he had a phone for a reason. 

You took care of a few customers as you pondered over the riddler. It can’t be children, that’d be too easy, you thought as you poured a fresh cup of coffee for a young man working on his laptop in one of the corner booths. The answer finally came to you as you were gathering the measly little tip one of your regulars had left you at their table. People make it, save it, change it and raise it. The answer was money.

You stuff the crumpled-up cash and loose change into your apron, gathering the dishes off of the table as you shuffle back towards the counter. You smile at Edward as you pass, stepping into the kitchen quickly to place the dishes in the sink. You roll your eyes when you notice the backdoor is cracked open and you can see a little cloud of smoke meaning Chris is probably taking a quick smoke break. 

You can almost hear Darcy scolding you in your head as you walk back out into the dining area. You stand in front of Edward, tapping the counter to get his attention as you lean towards him a bit, “The answer is money.” 

His face spreads into a smile as soon as he hears your answer and he claps his hands excitedly, “Correct! You’re getting better at these, Clever girl.” 

Christ the things you’d do to hear him praise you like that all the time. 

You giggle, combing a hand through your hair as you beam at him, “You think?” 

He nods, “Of course I do.” he pauses, just staring at you and you feel your cheeks going bright red, “Would you like another riddle?” 

You have to fight the urge to say yes when you remember that he had promised to tell you where he’d been if you solved the riddle. You shake your head pouting a little,  “Not yet, first you have to answer my question, remember—”

“Hey, sweetheart!” an older man calls interrupting you before you can get an answer from Edward. You look up at the man at the other end of the counter, sighing when you recognize him as a regular—one who you had reminded on multiple occasions not to call you sweetheart. 

“I’ll be with you in a moment Mr. Seavers,” you say, forcing a polite smile as you look over at the balding man and then back at Edward.

Edward isn’t looking at you when you turn back to him. He’s staring directly at the other man, jaw tensing until he looks back at you with a strained smile. 

You muster up a nervous laugh, “Sorry about that–”

“Sweetheart come on I ain’t getting any younger over here.” 

You sigh, glancing at the man again, polite smile no longer gracing your lips, “Please Mr. Seavers I’ll be with you in one moment–”

“I’ve told you to call me Jimmy, sweetheart.” 

Edward tenses again in front of you, and you squirm a bit watching his eyes darken as he stares at the man. Christ, it should not be turning you on to see him look like he’s two seconds away from lunging at the man. 

You brush your hands over your apron, smiling at Edward and offering him a brief apology before shuffling over to the man, “Mr. Seav– Jimmy what can I get for you.” 

“I’ll take a refill on my coffee and a slice of pie sweetheart.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek glancing at Edward for a moment and then back at Jimmy as you pour fresh coffee for him, “I already served the last slice of pie.” It's a petty lie but you really don’t give a shit–you just want to finish your shift and talk to Edward—and dealing with Jimmy and his usual bullshit was keeping you from doing that. 

He curses and offers you a smirk, reaching out to touch your hand for a second before you can pull it away, “That’s alright sweetheart, getting to see you is a treat enough for me.” 

You’re stomach turns and you yank your hand back, “I’ve told you before Jimmy, don’t call me that.” 

He chuckles as you walk back to Edward and you resist the urge to rush into the kitchen to scrub your hands clean. Edward glares at Jimmy for a second, fingers curling into white-knuckled fists on the counter. You reach across the counter and place a hand gently over his, smiling at him when he finally looks up at you. 

“So–What have you been up to?” you ask, tracing a circle over the back of his hand until he stops clenching his fists. His eyes shift back and forth for a moment between you and Jimmy before he finally sighs, and fixes his glasses as they slip down his nose.

“There was a work emergency that required me to work extra hours. I apologize if I worried you at all.” 

You recognize a well-practiced lie before he even finishes the sentence. It annoys you a bit but in your experience, things like this were usually best left alone. Besides, he seemed genuinely sorry that he’d worried you. And it wasn’t as if you’d never lied to him before so really you had no room to judge him. 

You shrug “It's alright, just text me next time” you squeeze his hand with a teasing smile, “That’s why I gave you my number remember.” 

His face flushes and he laughs nervously,” Yea—I’m sorry about that too—I’m not—uh—not used to having someone worry about where I am I guess.”

Oh. Well, now you definetly couldn’t be annoyed with him.

You squeeze his hand again, “Well now you have me,” 

He smiles, avoiding your eyes as he turns his hand over to hold yours for a moment, “And–and you have me.”

You don’t tell him how much you’d be willing to do for him—and neither does he. 

You nod, a little distracted by the way his hand feels in yours, long fingers tangling with yours. He has the hands of a pianist, with long fingers and pale knuckles. There are scars on his hands, mostly along with his fingertips and the backs of his hands and knuckles. You don’t need to ask where they came from—you’d lived in Gotham long enough to know what kind of scars came from living on the streets—Lord knows you had your fair share of them. 

You brush your thumb over his knuckle, he tenses a bit like he’s worried you’re going to ask him about the scars and you smile, “Do you have any more riddles for me?” 

—- Edward’s POV —

Edward hated avoiding you. But balancing his life with you in it was becoming increasingly difficult. You were a distraction— and as much Edward wanted to welcome that distraction he also knew he had a job to do. It was better to avoid you for periods of time. It kept you both safer– at least until he was sure he could bring you into his life completely. 

It helped that he had the cameras in your apartment to watch you at least. He hated seeing you look so sad whenever you tried to message him and he left you on read. But he told himself he’d make it up to you in the end. 

He just needed to finish the first part of his plan and then he could watch Gotham tremble in fear for a while and allow you to distract him again. Hopefully by the time he needed to complete the next step he’d be able to show you his true face. Then he wouldn’t have to hide from you. 

Besides the thought of seeing you again was a decent motivator for getting rid of the Mayor as soon as possible—if he was lucky he’d soon have you and the Batman on his side and then he’d be unstoppable. 

It took everything in him not to message you as soon as he finished setting the scene in the Mayor’s study after killing him. He wanted to show you his work—he wanted you to admire it —he wanted you to tell him clever he was for putting this all together. 

He went home that night and barely made it through the front door before dragging his pants down to his knees and stumbling to his desk to watch you on the monitors. He didn’t know if it was the adrenaline from having just killed a man or the thrill of imagining how you would react when he finally showed you his true face, that had him half-feral as he came into his hand—it was probably both. 

He hardly slept that night knowing he’d get to see you again. He’d have to ask you what you thought about the Mayor’s death—he needed to know that you understood how much men like Mitchell deserved to suffer—he’d make you understand if he had to. 

The next day when he walks into the diner and he doesn’t see you he worries that you might have called in and decided not to tell him. He’s pleasantly surprised when he finds you behind the counter, bent over cleaning up a coffee spill— especially when he’s got a nice view of your baby blue panties. 

Silly girl, you really should be more careful what if someone saw you like this and decided to take advantage. 

He snaps a few pictures when he’s sure no one is looking at him—he doesn’t even worry about the four cameras arranged around the diner, you’d already told him that the one pointed at the door was the only one that actually worked. He very nearly had to rush off to the bathroom again when you finally stood and gave him a bit of a show as you fidgeted with your skirt.

He feels guilty when you admit to being worried for him and has to remind himself several times that there’s a reason he can’t tell you the truth yet. He’d never been the patient type. He’s glad at least that you don’t pry, accepting his excuse even though he’s positive you know he’s lying. 

It’s incredibly easy to slip back into his usual routine with you, teasing back and forth and chattering over pie and coffee. It reminds him why he needs to be patient. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like other customers have gotten the memo that it’s Edward’s time to have your attention.

“Hey sweetheart, turn up the tv would ya!” 

Edward has no idea how you manage it but you take the man’s insistent prattling in stride, showing hardly any signs that it bothers you. He notices the slight twitch of your jaw tensing and your hands curling into fists at your side but he doubts that anyone else notices it. It makes his blood boil to think you have to deal with people like this every day and he wants desperately to take you away from it all. 

Soon—I’ll take you away soon.

It doesn’t help that Jimmy’s flirtatious comments give way to jealousy that rages in his belly. It’s stupid—he had no reason to be jealous of the man—it was pretty clear you didn’t like him. Still, it makes his stomach twist in anger watching the man interact as he owns you—like he deserves to even breathe the same air as you. 

It makes him want to put the mask on again and teach the man a lesson—now there’s an idea. 

He wonders if you want to watch the man bleed out as much as he does— he imagines you want it more than he does—he wants to give you that—he wants to set you free in the way he had been set free.

He wants to show you the power that came from ending someone's life.

“Come on sweetheart hurry it up–”

You offer the man a polite smile, picking up the remote and quickly turning up the volume a few clicks until Jimmy gives you a wolfish grin and a wink, turning to watch the tv. You cringe, shivering as you turn back to Edward, smile a little tense, “Sorry–would you mind repeating the riddle?”

It takes him a minute to reply, too lost in his thoughts, deciding he’d pay Jimmy a visit later in the night so you’d never have to deal with him again. He grins at you after a moment, “ Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show, we always will meet. Try as you might, to guess my name, I promise you'll know when I come to make my claim. Who am I?” 

He likes watching you think about the riddles so hard— he likes that you put effort into trying to please him. Plus it gives him a little time to plot against the man at the other end of the counter who keeps eyeing you up when you aren’t looking. 

You find the answer to the riddle just as Edward is gathering his things to leave, “Death, the answer is Death, right?” you ask eagerly looking at him.

He grins, nodding enthusiastically, “I told you, you’re getting better at this Clever girl” 

You clap your hands, pleased that you’d made him proud and he chuckles placing an extra tip on the counter before you can argue, “I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

You tilt your head at him, hands on your hips, “Promise?” 

He grins, “I promise.” You seem convinced, hands falling back to your sides as you beam at him, watching him gather his things, and tug his jacket over his shoulders. 

Edward is pleased to find that Jimmy stays a little longer than him, giving Edward the perfect opportunity to follow him home. He wishes he had the forethought to grab his mask before leaving home earlier—but a part of him is glad he doesn’t have it—he wants Jimmy to recognize him in his final moments. 

Jimmy is foolish and arrogantly unaware of his surroundings, completely missing the soft tap of Edward’s shoes against the damp pavement as he follows him. It’s not the same as when he follows you home or when he tails one of his targets as the Riddler—but it’s thrilling all the same.

He’d normally hate to do something without weeks of planning–too many things could go wrong—but he couldn’t get himself to step back when it came to someone posing a threat to you. 

It was easy to catch the man off guard and shove him into an alleyway nearly a block and a hlaf away from the diner. The man stumbled, crashing forward into the ground with a grunt. He was a little larger than the Mayor so he worried for a moment he might not be able to overpower him. The man staggered, attempting to look back and Edward shoved his boot into the man’s gut, giggling when the man curled into himself with a choked gasp.

Edward let the man lay there for a moment as he looked around the alley for something to hit him with. He couldn’t help the wicked little grin that formed on his face when his eyes landed on a glass bottle. He swiped it off the ground quickly, twisting it in his hand with a look of glee as the man turned to look at him.

“What the—”

Edward swung the bottle into the side of the man’s face, giggling when the man yelped as the bottle shattered, shards digging into his face—and fuck the sight of the blood beginning to drip down the man’s forehead was enough to send Edward’s heart racing. The man hit the ground again, hands reaching up to cover his face as he began to cry.

How fucking pathetic.

The man began to crawl away, dragging his legs on the ground in a desperate attempt to escape the fate he knew awaited him, “ple–please.”

Edward grinned, letting the man drag himself further into the alleyway. He stalked after him, swiping a loose metal pipe off of the ground as he crushed the man’s left ankle beneath his boot. 

The man yelps, twisting to look up at Edward again, “Please—please just let me go.” 

Edward clicks his tongue, tilting his head down slightly at the man, “This wouldn’t have happened if you would have just left her alone.” 

“Wha–what? What—what are you talking about?” 

Edward doesn’t answer, swinging the pipe hard against the man’s face, giggling when he hears the sickening crack of the man’s jaw dislocating.

The man chokes on a scream, incoherent cries for mercy being drowned out by the blood filling his mouth,”pl-plea--pleas–”

Edward swings again, this time a little harder, relishing in the sound of the man’s face hitting the pavement. The man tries to speak again but no words come out, only choked little cries of pain. 

Edward lets the pipe crash against the man’s head again, and again and again until he stops hearing the man’s pathetic cries for mercy, and even then he keeps bringing the pipe down until the man’s face is barely recognizable. He’s got blood spattered on his hands by the time he lets the pipe clatter to the ground.

He stands there, chest rising and falling with quick heavy breaths as he stares down at the body. He should feel disgusted as he looks upon his work–-but all he feels is a wave of power.

He crouches, digging his hands into the man’s pockets and dragging his wallet out, flipping through it for a moment before pocketing it. He’d already made it nearly impossible to recognize the man, so taking his wallet was only a secondary precaution–though with the murder of the Mayor the GCPD would hardly be worried about some lowlife getting his head bashed in.

He couldn’t deny the benefits of the corruption in Gotham allowing him to slip through the cracks without raising suspicion. 

It takes him a moment to drag the man further into the alleyway, and he sobers for a moment as he shoves the body into a pile of garbage, tossing loose trash bags and cardboard over it. It wouldn’t keep it hidden forever but it’d given him a head start if the cops wound up investigating further-–if he was lucky they’d shock it up to the murder of a homeless man and the investigation would be lost in a sea of unsolved cases. 

He takes his time walking home, giddy and overjoyed with the knowledge that the man would never again bother you— he had protected you—and one day he hoped you would thank him for that. 

Tag List

People I couldn't tag will be bolded in green@toy-cars-and-grape-juice @kidswildworld @angelbabyivy @gvf-court @vincentiz @goldenmay @rerorero-my-cherry @ihaveaproblem98 @qardasngan @space1boy @riddler-simp @chubbyb3an @psychadelichues @crayolahandsanitizer

(I apologize in advance if i missed you!)

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[just-call-me-angel]

Little Miss Loser

Chapter 1 - The Family Next door

Warnings: none

Author's Note: I won't even pretend this isn't a self-indulgent piece for me to express my love for Paul Dano's role as Dwayne Hoover in Little Miss Sunshine. I do hope that anyone who comes across this enjoys it though!

Summary: What could possibly go wrong when Dwayne's best friend and next-door neighbor gets invited on a road trip with the Hoover family for the weekend?

Ao3

Chapters: ||1||2||3||4||5||6||7||

Summer in Albuquerque, New Mexico was always blazing hot and boring as hell. It helped at least that you weren’t spending your summer vacation alone. You had been lucky enough to befriend the dark-haired quiet boy next door after you had first moved in and after that you wound up spending most of your time at his house. You had quickly discovered that the Hoover family was odd, but you couldn’t really say your family was a good example of normality so it didn’t really bother you. In fact you thrived off the energy in the Hoover household. You loved the constant noise buzzing throughout the home and the way the family welcomed you in with open arms. Most of all you loved the quiet duality that Dwayne Hoover provided in the chaos of his family. Many had been shocked to see how you wormed your way into Dwayne's life and became his best (and only) friend. Dwayne was the silent loner type who preferred the company of his books and his music above all else. While you were chatty and wild and constantly making jokes to fill the noise. Often people would tell you how you were simply too loud and too wild when really you knew they meant to say you were too much. But despite his prickly nature Dwayne never seemed to grow tired of you and you were grateful for that.

So it really wasn’t all that odd for you to be spending yet another day sprawled out across Dwayne’s twin mattress, mindlessly doodling in one of Dwayne’s spiral notebooks while he sat across the room doing sit ups on the floor. Occasionally you would glance down at him, making faces to get him to lose focus and giggling when he would huff in frustration and resituate himself so he couldn’t see you. Most kids your age were running around going on adventures while you were perfectly content  lazing about fulfilling your role as Dwayne’s most annoying distraction (It was your number one job as his best friend and only friend)

You looked up from your doodles and watched as Dwayne shuffled across the room towards the homemade calendar he had hung up a few months ago. Reading the messy handwriting at the top of the calendar that read ‘ENLISTMENT’ you smiled as he moved his finger down the rows of boxes, about a third of which are filled in already, and carefully took a permanent marker to fill in another box in a row that was half finished. He stares for a moment at the calendar and then at his own reflection in the mirror to his right. You toss a crumpled up piece of paper at him to gain his attention, grinning when he turns to face you. Shuffling to sit up on the bed you turn the notebook you had been doodling in so he can see your work. He moves closer, squinting for a moment at the paper before looking back up at your face clearly a bit confused. You huff and point at the paper with the pen you had been using.

“It's you, you dumbass.” you tell him, grinning when he gives you an unamused look, “Can’t you tell?” you tease as you look down at the paper once more to look at the terribly drawn stick figure version of Dwayne sitting atop an equally as terrible depiction of an airplane that you had worked very hard on. He rolls his eyes and shoves you slightly to make room for him to sit next to you before swiping the notebook out of your hands and flipping the page to write out his response to your drawing.

“Thats fucking terrible.” the note reads when he finally shows it to you. You snort, playfully slapping his arm and stealing the notebook from him again.

“Don’t be a dick.” you tell him, hugging the notebook to your chest, “You’re just jealous of my artistic ability.” He rolls his eyes again but you can see the faintest smile hidden behind his usual flat expression. He shuffles around on the bed, laying back against his pillows and swinging his legs out to rest on your knees. You don’t even bother to shove his legs off of you as he makes himself comfortable and pulls a book off of his night stand.

“Are you rereading that Neitczhe book again?” you ask him as you turn to an empty page in the notebook. He nods, opening the book to read quietly while you continue doodling mindlessly and you hum in approval. He had read that book so many times you had lost count and you found it endearing how much he seemed to still enjoy it even now.

After a while you hear the front door opening and his mom shouting in the front hall but neither of you move to get up or even really acknowledge her arrival until she pushes his bedroom door open.

“Dwayne sweetie, Uncle Frank is here.” Mrs. Hoover says softly, before glancing over at you momentarily shocked by your presence. Standing next to her is a dark haired man with an unshaven face and wearing all white. The man, who you assume is Dwayne’s Uncle Frank, looks decidedly unhappy to be here. Dwayne had told you a few days before that his Uncle Frank who he hadn’t seen in several years would be coming to stay with them. You didn’t know the details and you didn’t pry any further assuming it was one of those things the family didn’t want people knowing about.

“Oh shoot! (y/n) I completely forgot you were coming over for dinner.” she frowns clearly a bit annoyed with herself and you shake your head smiling softly.

“Its alright Mrs. Hoover, I can always go home if it's too much trouble.” You offer, noticing the way Dwayne visibly looks dejected at the thought of you going home early

Sheryl shakes her head, “No no, sweetie you know I love having you over!” she pauses to look at her brother for a moment, offering him a small smile, “(y/n) this is my brother Frank, Frank this is Dwayne’s friend and our neighbor (y/n)” You give him a polite smile and wave which he awkwardly returns, shoving his hand back down to his side when your eyes fall to the bandages around his wrists. You don't say a word about it, you just offer him another smile before shuffling to shove Dwayne’s legs off your lap.

“Come on Dwayne lets go set up Dinner.” you say, earning a smile from Sheryl as you carefully shuffle past the two adults, tugging Dwayne along behind you. After a few moments Sheryl comes into the dining room, instructing Dwayne to run out and grab the dinner she had picked up from the car before she gives you a pat on the shoulder and thanks you for being so helpful. Frank shuffles into the main area of the house and under Sheryl’s instruction sits at the dinner table, next to Dwayne’s usual spot at the table. Once you and Dwayne have finished setting the table you both take a seat along with him. Richard, Dwayne’s step dad enters the room briefly sitting down next to Frank before awkwardly getting up after asking Frank how he had been doing. You have to stifle a laugh at the uncomfortable silence that fills the room with Richard's awkward attempt at small talk with his brother in law. Surprisingly its Frank who fills the silence before you can even think of something dumb to say.

“So Dwayne, who do you hang out with?” Frank asked, clearly trying to fill the awkward silence. You looked up across the table with a little grin tugging on your lips as you watched Dwayne look at his uncle with a bored expression.

“What, you don’t have any friends? No girlfriend?” Frank pressed further, only receiving a sigh from Dwayne as he continued to stare at his uncle. You watched as Dwayne shuffled to grab his little notepad and pen, quickly scrawling an answer out to his uncle.

“Everyone? Even your family?” Frank asked and Dwayne only answered by underlining something on his paper. Leaning over the table quickly to see the paper you rolled your eyes reading the words ‘I hate Everyone’ in Dwayne’s quick handwriting. You snorted, kicking Dwayne under the table, earning you a disgruntled huff and a quick glare from your best friend. Frank looked up at you, smiling when you stuck your tongue out at Dwayne.

“I take it your friend here is the exception?” Frank laughed and you grinned cheekily as Dwayne rolled his eyes and shrugged trying to remain as nonchalant as possible.

“If i’m not the exception I’ll be needing that best friend bracelet I made you back.” you teased earning a snort from Frank and a glare from Dwayne who quickly moved to cover the yellow bracelet tied carefully around his left wrist. Looking around for a moment to check his mom wasn’t looking he flipped you the middle finger which only made you cackle and grin at him.

Frank laughed with you, much to Dwayne’s annoyance, “I take it you two have been friends for a while?” he asked and you nodded with a wide grin when Dwayne tried to kick you back under the table.

It was Sheryl that answered his question finally, “These two have been inseparable since she moved in next door a few years ago.” she grinned, moving behind you to wrap an arm around your shoulder to give you a quick hug, “I imagine you’ll see a lot of her while you’re staying with us Frank.” You laughed and hugged her back, watching out of the corner of your eye as Dwayne gave you a teasing smile and you stuck your tongue out at him.

Frank nods, “So I couldn’t help but notice, Dwayne has stopped talking.”  Dwayne barely reacts to his own name being said and instead glances over at you as his mom takes her seat at the head of the table with Richard seated once again on the other end.

Sheryl laughs softly, “Oh! He’s taken a vow of silence.” she explains, reaching over to put salad onto her plate.

Frank looks both confused and a bit amused at her answer and looks at Dwayne for a moment, “You’ve taken a vow of silence?”

Dwayne nods and Sheryl reaches over to pat him on the shoulder with a smile, “He’s going to join the Naval Academy to become a fighter pilot. He’s taken a vow of silence until he reaches that goal.” You can see the slightest impression of small smile on Dwayne’s face hearing his mom talk about his goal with such pride.

Frank’s eyes widen as he speaks, “You’re kidding?” Sheryl shakes her head and smiles while you laugh, bringing Frank’s attention towards you momentarily.

“He's gonna be a kickass pilot.” You say as you glance at Dwayne, a grin plastered to your face as his cheeks go a bit red. Sheryl rolls her eyes at your use of curse words but doesn’t scold you.It takes another few moments for the rest of the family slowly joins you all at the table, Olive excitedly squealing when she notices you and Frank at the table already. Dinner with the Hoovers  was always something of a spectacle and you absolutely adored it. You sat across from Dwayne, next to Olive, who excitedly chattered next to you. You weren’t really sure what she was even talking about at this point but you did your best to nod along. You could see Dwayne watching you from across the table, a little smile playing at his lips. As much as he pretended to hate his entire family it was clear he loved his sister. You had never had any siblings, you were an only child and neither your aunt nor your uncles had children, you were quite literally the only hell your family had ever raised. So you were thrilled to have Olive clinging to you everytime you came over, giggling when Dwayne would get all huffy and pull Olive off of you to send her off to keep practicing her dance routine in the basement. You would tease him endlessly about being jealous of a 7 year old and he would shove you off of his bed and toss a book at you to get you to shut up but you could always see the slight flush to his cheeks and the nervous smile on his lips and it would make your heart flutter.

Talk of Frank’s attempted suicide made you feel a little bit like an intruder but it was clear Frank seemed almost entertained by the way Richard tried desperately to avoid the subject. You had always loved mocking Richard behind his back, often making it very difficult for Dwayne to keep from laughing aloud and it seemed that with Frank’s arrival in the home you would have another partner in crimes against Richard.

“Is he always like this?” Frank muttered to Dwayne, who only nodded and rolled his eyes.

“How do you stand it?” Frank asked again and Dwayne shrugged, turning back to his food and casting a quick glance towards you.

“I usually just make fun of him when he’s not looking. Its honestly kind of therapeutic”you joke quietly when the rest of the table is seemingly distracted by Richard’s usual ‘how to be a winner’ speech. Frank looked up at you now and smiled almost immediately. You tossed a  glance at Richard to endure; he was still busy talking before you began your usual routine of silently mimicking until both Dwayne and Frank were visibly trying not to laugh. Out of the corner of your eye you could even see Sheryl fighting a smile when she noticed what you were doing. The scratch of Dwayne’s pen against his notepad makes you look over at him for a moment, watching as he slowly points the notepad at you to read. There are no words on the paper, just a very messily drawn smiley face and it makes you laugh when he gives you a thumbs up and a very small smile of his own.

Dinner proceeds as usual after that, up until Sheryl receives the news that Olive has a place in the Little Miss Sunshine Pageant in California as you find yourself rather entertained by Olive frantically running around the house gathering her things.

“I WON! I WON! I WON!” she squealed, tapping your shoulder frantically.

You nod and ruffle her hair, “I know kiddo I heard.” With a grin she resumes her excited rambling, bounding back and forth around the house. Frank seems almost as amused as you do, though it's clear he isn’t as used to the craziness of the Hoover Household as you are and Dwayne looks positively bored, shrugging his shoulders at you when you glance over at him.

You felt a bit like you were watching a family comedy show watching as the Hoover family talked amongst themselves trying to figure out how they could possibly get Olive to her Little Miss Sunshine competition in California. You had known the family long enough to be rather used to their dysfunctional nature and it felt like home to you at this point. It was especially entertaining to watch Dwayne get roped into family activities, though you knew if he did end up going on a weekend trip you would be incredibly bored with him. It didn’t stop you from finding the helpless look he sent you to be incredibly hilarious. You shrugged and offered a pathetic attempt at an apologetic smile as you pulled a popsicle from the box Sheryl had placed on the table for dessert. Dwayne crosses his arms and shakes his head stubbornly and looking defeated and annoyed as Frank gives an exasperated agreement to go on the trip

He huffs and you can hear the familiar sound of his pen against paper. You watch as Frank leans over his shoulder slightly, reading aloud as Dwayne writes “This…is… unfair… all…i…ask…is…that…you…leave…me…alone…” Dwayne lets his pen fall back down on his notebook and leans back into his chair, arms crossed and face screwed up into a scowl. Sheryl sighs and turns around with her back facing the rest of the family, one hand massaging the bridge of her nose as she tries to come up with a way to convince Dwayne. You knew Dwayne would honestly crumble in seconds if his sister begged him to go on the trip but you kept that to yourself as you watched the scene unfold. Dwayne was stubborn until the end and you loved that about him. When you had first met upon moving to Albuquerque some four to five years ago it had taken you months to get him to say one word to you. Even before he took his vow of silence Dwayne had been a loner and he seemed content to continue living that way. But you were nearly as stubborn as he was and refused to give up on the quiet dark haired boy who lived next door. In the end you had wormed your way into his life before he even realized it was happening and as much as he teased you about being annoying and loud, you knew he was glad to have at least one friend and you were more than happy to fill that role.

“Dwayne,”  Sheryl said finally, “I will give you permission for flight school if you do this.” you watched as Dwayne shifted slightly and seemed to weigh his options, “And…. we can invite (y/n) with us.” This seemed to catch Dwayne's interest almost as quickly as it caught yours. At first you had been happily watching this entire scenario from the sidelines but now you were being pulled into the fold. You shot Mrs. Hoover a confused glance and she waved you off as if to tell you not to worry about it. It shouldn’t have been shocking really, you spent most days with the Hoover family anyways and your parents were usually all too pleased to pass you along to the family next door so it wasn’t hard to imagine them giving you permission to go on the trip.

Richard seemed just as confused as you did as he stared at his wife with a look of disapproval, “Sheryl–” You could already hear his usual argument about how dangerous it was to encourage a young man like Dwayne to spend so much time alone with a girl and it had you rolling your eyes instantly.

Mrs. Hoover was well practiced in shutting Richard’s nonsense down and shot him a glare, “Richard.” she said firmly, hands already resting on her hips to show she was in no mood to hear his argument. You couldn’t stop from smiling a little at the way Richard hung his head in defeat, crossing his arms like a child who had just been told no. There was something so entertaining about watching Sheryl put Richard in his place. You turn your attention back to Dwayne who is already looking at you as if to ask you what he should do. You shrug and smile, which seems to be enough for him as he sighs and moves to shake his mom's hand to solidify the deal. Everyone rejoices and you give Dwayne a grin as his mom gives him a tight hug making him roll his eyes.

He picks his pen up again and begins to write, while Frank leans over to read it aloud, “But… Im… Not… Going… To… Have…. Any…Fun…” You laugh and Dwayne gives you a dirty look as if telling you to shut up but you can see the little smile hidden carefully behind his bored expression.

The rest of the night went by quickly, you helped Dwayne clean up dinner while Sheryl called your parents to make sure it was alright that you joined them on their trip (it didn’t take much for your parents to agree to the idea much to Sheryl’s relief), and afterwards you spent another hour or two with Dwayne helping him pack until finally you figured it was time to head on home so you could pack as well. Dwayne walked you home as he usually did despite your attempts to remind him that your house was barely a few feet away from his. Nonetheless you thanked him as the two of you stood at your front door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” you said, only receiving a quiet nod from him in response. You smiled and pulled him into a hug which he didn’t even try to escape. You had been friends for long enough for him to know better than to stop you from hugging him and as much as he pretended to hate it he always seemed to lean into your touch, nose brushing against your neck as his arms curled around your waist. You smiled into his shirt, pulling him a little closer before finally letting him go.

You watch him through the window as he crosses your yard into his own and rounds the side of his house to his front door and disappears from sight. You can hear your mother in the kitchen and you move as quietly as you can towards your room hoping to avoid her so you can just pack for the trip and go to bed. Blessedly she seems to be distracted on the phone and you are left to your own devices for at least an hour before she comes knocking on your door. The conversation is short and you can tell she’s in a shitty mood but you can’t bring yourself to really care as you continue packing your little brown duffel bag, only half listening to her remind you to thank the Hoovers for their generosity.

“And I don’t want you alone with that Dwayne boy the whole time.” she tells you firmly, “You hear me?” she huffs when you don't respond immediately. You sigh and look over at her as she leans against your door frame waiting for your reply.

“Yea mom I heard you.” you say quietly, rolling your eyes when she looks away from you for a moment.

“I’m serious (Y/N)” she says a bit louder as if you would magically feel inclined to give a shit about what she thought about Dwayne. You zip your duffel bag with a huff and toss it to the ground next to your bed before you look back at her.

“I know mom.” you tell her, “I’ll be trapped in a car with the whole family most of the time anyways.” you remind her as if to give her the impression that you are actually going to listen to her warnings. She nods, seemingly appeased by your reply.

“I gotta go to bed, I’m supposed to be ready to go early tomorrow.” you say, shuffling off of your bed to grab the shorts and tshirt you usually slept in. She nods wordlessly and moves to give you a side hug. It offers no warmth or comfort. It's a formality. You shuffle back and move to shut your door before she can say another word, “Night mom.”

#little miss sunshine #little miss sunshine fic #justcallmeangel fic tag #dwayne hoover #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover x you #dwayne hoover little miss sunshine #paul dano #this ones dedicated to danonation #danonation #dwayne hoover fanfic #fanfic

[just-call-me-angel]

Klitz With A K

Warnings: NSFT content!! Oral, bathroom sex, mentions of drinking, most of the fic takes place at a college party, smoking,

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Fuckboy! Klitz

Author's Note: I have had such bad Klitz brain rot over the past two weeks I swear to god that little fucker is in my brain eating any coherent thought I have left. I swear to god I blacked out while writing 90% of this fic. I imagine klitz looking a bit like Thaddius from Ballad of Jack and Rose or Martin from Taking Lives, basically just klitz with longer hair bc im a whore lmao At the moment it's a one shot BUT I'm literally insane and Klitz is always on my mind so don't be surprised if I do a part two to this fic at some point. Hope you guys enjoy fuckboy Klitz as much as I do.

Ps I have not known peace since learning that Klitz's full name is Timothy Klitz. I keep giggling thinking about it lmao.

Summary: College was supposed to be a fresh start. A place where you could forget about high school and move on with your life. It was not supposed to lead you to find out your high school crush is now a known fuck boy on your campus. But fuck you can't really deny it's happening when he's fucking you in the bathroom at a party. You might as well enjoy it.

Ao3

When you moved to Connecticut to attend Yale, the last thing you expected to find while at a party was your old classmate. Especially not the same classmate that you had spent all of the high school hopeless pining after. 

Yet there he was sitting at the other end of the room. Even with how much he had changed since graduation, you couldn’t deny it was him. His brown hair was longer, shaggy locks coming down to his shoulders. He carried himself with confidence you had never seen in him when you were in high school. He still wore the same dorky glasses though. And you couldn’t say you knew of very many people with a name like his.

Klitz. Klitz with a K.

Still, it was hard to believe it was him. The Klitz you had known never went to parties, unless his friends dragged him along, and even then he was always off by himself. But this Klitz in front of you was sitting with two girls, openly flirting with both of them with a cigarette between his lips. This Klitz had a revolving door of pretty women constantly fawning over it. 

He’s still just as attractive as you remember though. The only difference is that he’s aware of it now. Christ, he’s practically dripping with sex appeal and entitlement. 

You know you should stop staring. In fact, you should just leave the party altogether–

Too late.

Klitz’s eyes are meeting yours and suddenly you can barely breathe. You couldn’t move an inch as he stared back at you, green eyes keeping you pinned in place as he took a drag from his cigarette. You shiver as he looks you up and down, and then meets your eyes again swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he smirks at you. 

He winks and fuck you’re a goner.

Your red solo cup hits the ground, leftover alcohol splashing on your shoes. You hear him chuckle and you can feel his eyes still on you but you don’t look at him again as you turn on your heel and scramble off to the kitchen.

Your head is spinning and you aren’t sure if it's the alcohol or the fact that you’re pretty sure Klitz was checking you out. Had this happened in high school you would have been over the moon. But now it was pretty clear Klitz was becoming more and more of a fuckboy. And as much as you’d love to have a go with him you didn’t know if you could handle him using you and then tossing you aside. 

Christ this is crazy.

You exhale a shaky breath, leaning forward against the kitchen counter with your head in your hands. This has to be a fucking joke. You look up at the array of alcohol on the counter for a moment. Fuck it. Your reach over pulling a nearly empty bottle towards you, not even bothering to read the label as you start to pour what remains into a cup. One more drink and then home–

“You enjoying the party?” A smooth voice calls behind you and you yelp, nearly dropping your cup again as you spin around to face the stranger.--

Yea this is definitely some kind of sick joke.

Klitz stands a few inches away from you leaning back against the other counter chuckling, “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” he paused, letting his eye wander just as they had in the main area of the party and you shiver under his gaze, “I’m Klitz… with a K.” 

Oh.

He doesn’t recognize you.

Should you tell him you went to the same high school?

No. No. That would just make this awkward.-- well more awkward that it already was.

You fidget nervously with the plastic cup in your hand, biting on the inside of your cheek as he watches you expectantly, “I… I um…”God, you are so fucking screwed, “ I’m…(Y/N)”

Smooth. Real fucking smooth.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” he drawls, openly ogling you. 

You giggle nervously, taking a sip of your drink in an attempt to cover the red flush on your cheeks. You peek over the rim of the cup, nearly choking when you notice he’s still eyeing you up. 

“Haven’t seen you around here before, you a student or visiting a friend?” 

You shakily set the cup down at your side, “I’m a  student.” 

He hums in approval and pushes off the counter, taking a step towards you, standing up straight so you have to crane your neck a bit to look at him, “Ya know (Y/N)” It should really be illegal for your name to sound that good coming from his mouth, “I saw you looking at me earlier.” 

You freeze up instantly, eyes going wide as you stare up at him, “Oh.. I… Um… I’m sorry… I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to–” 

He chuckles and takes another step forward until he’s got you trapped between him and the kitchen island, “Don’t be sorry,” he leans forward over you, pressing his palms down on the countertop on either side of you, his voice falls to a low whisper, “I like when pretty girls look at me.” 

This is not happening. There is no fucking way this is happening. You have to be fucking dreaming.

“I just wanna know why you were looking at me.” he smiles, reaching up with one hand to brush your hair out of your face.

“Wh..why?” 

He nods, smile curving to one side into a smirk as he hums, “Mmhm…I need to know if there was a reason a pretty girl like you was looking at me, so I can decide if there’s anything I can do for you.” 

You whine before you can even stop yourself and he groans, “Come on pretty girl, tell me what you want for me.” he leans a bit closer, lips ghosting against the underside of your jaw, “I promise I won’t bite.” He kisses your jaw and you can feel him smirking, “unless you want me to.” 

Oh god.

He chuckles, breath tickling your neck before he leans up again to look you in the eyes, “I already told you, baby, it's Klitz, not God.” You whimper, nodding mindlessly at him. Christ, you wanna give in so badly–

“(Y/N)?” 

You jolt, noticing your friend standing in the kitchen staring at you. Thank god for Hayden’s shitty timing. Klitz shifts and you slide away from him, offering him a quiet apology.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something,” Hayden grins tossing you a look that told you she’d be asking for details later, “Jayce is offering us a ride home since he just got off work and I figured it’d be best to take him off on the offer before either of us got too trashed.” 

You nod, shuffling to make sure you had everything you needed in your purse before glancing back at Klitz. He leans back against the island, smirking in that self-entitled way that would have annoyed you on any other guy. 

Hayden tugs your purse out of your arms, tossing it over her shoulder, “I’ll let you say goodbye to your…friend” she glances at Klitz, clearly checking him out, and then back at you with a cheeky grin, and you go bright red, “I’ll wait at the door for you, don’t take too long.” 

She doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before she’s kissing your cheek and rushing out of the room giggling. She was never going to let you live this down.

You turn to Klitz, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, “Sorry about that”

“No worries.” He chuckles, smirking at you, “She seems… Nice.” 

You laugh nervously and nod wordlessly, wishing you hadn’t let Hayden run off like that. You were used to being the one making boys like Klitz nervous, not the other way around. 

He laughs, “Probably shouldn’t keep you waiting.” 

You nod again but don’t move.

He reaches a hand up, combing long fingers through your hair to get it out of your face, “I’ll see you around pretty girl.” he leans down and presses a kiss to your jaw and you shiver, mind going blank again.

You hear him chuckle as he shuffles past you and it takes you a few moments to finally regain control of your own body as you stand frozen in the middle of the kitchen. 

Wow.

It doesn’t take long for you to finally find Hayden, and when you do she’s already grinning, tugging you to her side before you can blink. Who was that guy? He seemed totally into you! Please tell me you got his number! (Y/N) come on I need details! You spend most of the drive home trying to ignore her questions (as well as Jayce’s once he catches wind of the situation.)

You decide it probably won’t ever happen again. Especially with the reputation, Klitz had built for himself at Yale. He’d probably forget about you as soon as a different pretty girl and for a while you were almost positive that he really had forgotten about you. 

Until you started running into him on campus. And he was just as insistent about flirting with you as he had been at the party. It was driving you absolutely insane. It was taking everything out of you to reject his advances. 

First it was while you were on the way to class.

You were in a rush despite knowing you had plenty of time to make it to your next class, when you crashed into someone in the hallway. You fell hard on your ass, dropping your bag and all its contents around you. You were apologizing before you even looked over to see who you had run into.

“Fuck–Im so sorry–”

“Ya know pretty girl, when I said i’d see you around, it didn’t mean you had to try so hard to get my attention.” Klitz was kneeling in front of you, handing you one of your books as you gaped at him.

“I–I wasn’t—I mean– I didn’t—”

He chuckled, gathering your things and placing them neatly into your bag before shuffling to help you up, “I’m only teasing.” He brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, “You look cute when you get embarrassed.” 

He glanced down at his shitty watch for a moment, frowning and then looked at you with another smirk, “I gotta get to class, you think you can make it without running into anyone else?” 

You nodded and he chuckled, “atta girl.” he ruffled your hair and moved around you, winking as he walked away, “Hope to run into you again soon.” 

You’d convinced yourself it was a fluke. And that now he really would forget about you.

And then it happened again, this time at the library while you were waiting for Jayce and Hayden to meet you to study. 

You had your nose stuffed in a book when you felt someone sit down next to you and you didn’t look up as you spoke to them, thinking it was Jayce or Hayden, “You’re late.” you muttered

“Oh? I didn’t realise you were expecting me.” 

You stared at him over the top of your book, eyes going wide when you realised it was Klitz sitting next to you. 

God you really had the worst luck.

“Shit–I thought–I thought you were my friend.” 

He smirked, tipping his chair back a bit, stretching his long legs out under the table, “You don’t look happy to see me.”

You sputtered, shaking your head as you tossed your book onto the table, “No! No I wasn’t–I just wasn’t expecting you– fuck– I’m sorry.” 

He chuckled, leaning forward again in his chair, tilting his head and peering over his thin glasses frames at you, “God you are so fun to mess with, ya know that?” His hand brushed over your knee and you were almost positive you were going to pass out. 

This time it was Jayce who interrupted.

“Dude I’m late one time and you replace me for studying? I thought we had something special (Y/N)”  

Klitz looked up for a moment glancing at Jayce and then grinning at you as he watched your face go bright red. Jayce laughed sitting down across from you and gesturing towards Klitz, “So you gonna introduce me to my replacement?” 

You stared at him and then at Klitz, whose hand was still on your leg, fingers tracing little shapes over the bare skin of your thigh, “Uh–right–yea– Jayce this is Klitz– Klitz this is my friend Jayce.” 

Jayce snorted, “Your name is Klitz?” 

God here it comes–

Klitz smirked, fingers toying with the hem of your skirt as he spoke “With a K.” 

Fuck that should not have the effect on you that it does.

“Pleasure to meet you Klitz with a K.” 

“Likewise Jayce.” Klitz stood suddenly, lip twitching into a smirk at the way your knee-jerked when his hand pulled away from you, “Listen I promised to meet some friends in a bit so I’ve gotta bounce but uh I hope we run into each other again.” 

You nod, giving him a stupid dopey smile as he walks away. Across from you Jayce laughs, “Jesus you’ve got it bad. When are you gonna just screw the guy?”

“Shut up Jayce” 

Okay– maybe it wasn’t a fluke– a coincidence at the very least. 

But it just kept happening. And each time Klitz got bolder.

He’d run into in the campus cafe, tease you about being so clumsy when you stumbled and spilled a bit of your coffee on his oversized shirt. And then he’d spin the situation around on you, offer to buy you a new coffee if you promised to sit with him and he’d spend most of the time flirting with you, thriving on every reaction you gave him.

He’d meet you in the library sometimes during his free periods, at first it was a one time thing after running into you while you were waiting for Jayce and Hayden but eventually he started swinging by more often. He told you it was because he wanted to study but he rarely actually studied during the times he was with you. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying spending time with him. Even when he flirted constantly and left you embarrassed and flustered. Sometimes you even caught glimpses of the Klitz you used to know, the one who fumbled when he talked to women and got all nervous if you complimented him. 

Each time he smiled at you. Each time he snorted when he laughed at something you said. Each time you watched his face go red when you managed to flirt back. Each time he smirked when he made you flustered, it all made it harder and harder to say no to him.

It didn’t help either that your friends kept encouraging you to stop fighting it and let him fuck your brains out. 

God, you wanted to give in so fucking badly. You’d thought your stupid crush would fade away with time, especially once you realized how much Klitz had changed. But it had only increased since getting to know the new Klitz along with reintroducing yourself to the old Klitz.

You couldn’t help feeling like you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him for much longer. 

And now you were at another party and you were doing a shit job at avoiding him. You couldn’t find Jayce or Hayden so you locked yourself in the bathroom on the second floor of the frat house the party was being hosted at. 

>>HEY!den: boytoy???

>>Y/N: where the hell r u guys?

>>JayJay: wut aren’t u glad u can have alone time with your boytoy ;)

>>Y/N: Jay i am begging u 2 stop calling him that

>>HEY!den: omg do u have a boyfriend u didn’t tell me about??? 

You loved Hayden and Jayce but god they really could be annoying. You lifted your red solo cup from the counter, taking a quick sip of it before glancing down at your phone again.

>>HEY!den: WAIT!!!

>>Y/N: oh jesus

>>HEY!den: OMG DID YOU FINALLY SCREW THAT CLITS GUY

>>JayJay: HAYDEN OMG

>>JayJay: U R SO DUMB I LITARLLY LOVE YOU LMAO

>>Y/N: first of all I rlly hate u guys

>>HEY!den: luv u 2 babes lol

>>Y/N: second of all his name is Klitz

>>JayJay: yea with a K ;)))))

>>HEY!den: oh yeah Klitzy ;)

>>Y/N: signing off assholes <3

You rolled your eyes at the final message shoving your phone into your pocket after sending one final message.

Christ how had you ever gotten yourself into this situation. You sigh, massaging the bridge of your nose until you heard a knock at the door barely audible behind the vibrations of music playing at the party. You don’t answer at first, hoping they’ll go away. 

They knock again and you huff, yanking the door open, ready to tell whoever it is at the door to find another bathroom. The words die in your throat as soon as your eyes meet a pair of green eyes behind thin metal-framed glasses. 

Fuck.

He smirks, eyes dragging down your body catching on the little skirt and crop top Hayden had convinced you to wear, “Mind if I join you? Parties getting a little too loud for my tastes.” 

No, you think.

“Yea–Yea of course,” you say, stepping aside and allowing him to enter the little room before shutting the door again. 

He walks to the other end of the bathroom and glances out the little window above the bathtub for a moment before shoving it open. 

“You mind if I smoke?”

You shrug, “Go for it.” 

He nods and pulls a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a little blue lighter. He slips a cigarette between his lips, shoving the pack back into his pocket. You watch his hands as he flicks the lighter and a burst of flames rises, enveloping the tip of the cigarette for a moment. 

He lets the cigarette sit between his lips, taking a slow drag of it as he drops the lighter into his pocket. Your eyes dart between his hands and his lips, breath stuttering when he catches you staring. 

He chuckles as he takes a step back towards you, holding the cigarette between his index and middle finger, lifting it towards you, “You smoke?” 

You nod and he stops in front of you, lifting his hand to tilt your face up to look at him. He taps your jaw and lifts the cigarette to your lips, humming in approval when you obediently open your mouth. 

You peer up at him through your lashes as you take a breath in, never breaking eye contact with Klitz until he pulls the cigarette from your lips, “Atta girl” he hums, tapping your cheek again and brushing a few stray hairs from your face as you exhale, letting the smoke fill the space between the two of you.

He smiles, taking another drag of his cigarette his other hand still cradling your cheek, thumb tracing the curve of your lips as he spoke, “Ya know, I was actually starting to worry that you were avoiding me.” 

“Avoiding you–I wasn’t–I wasn’t avoiding you;” you laugh nervously, leaning back against the counter as he crowds you just as he had that first time in the kitchen. 

He hums, “Hmmmm, then what are you doing hiding in here instead of having fun with everyone else?”

He watches as you go still in front of him, taking another long drag from his cigarette. You don’t respond at first, still trying your damnedest to ignore the thoughts racing in your head. He stares back, watching you closely, lip twitching, tugging into a smirk.

“Admit it, pretty girl, you were hiding from me.” he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, grinning when your tongue just barely swipes against the pad of his thumb, “Question is, why were you hiding?” 

You stare up at him with wide eyes shaking your head, “I wasn’t hiding on purpose–I just—needed a break from the party that’s all”

He snorts, “Really?”

You nod feverishly praying to whichever god that will listen that he believes you and he chuckles shaking his head at you, licking his lip as he drags his eyes up and down your body again, “Remember what I asked the first time we met?” 

For a moment you’re caught off guard thinking he’s talking about high school. 

How the fuck were you supposed to remember what he said to you over 4 years ago.--

And then you remember that night in the kitchen and your face goes bright red.

“I just wanna know why you were looking at me.” he smiles, reaching up with one hand to brush your hair out of your face.

“Wh..why?” 

He nods, smile curving to one side into a smirk as he hums, “Mmhm…I need to know if there was a reason a pretty girl like you was looking at me, so I can decide if there’s anything I can do for you.” 

“You know what I think?” he hums, brushing hair out of your face.

You nod, breath stuttering as his hand snakes down around your waste pressing you flush against him, “I think,”  he pauses, taking one final drag from his cigarette before he flicks the faucet on behind you, stubbing the cigarette out in the basin, and then tosses the butt under the steady stream of water before bringing his attention back down to you, “ I think that you want me–just as badly as I want you” 

You should deny it. There was no way this was going to end well. Messing around with fuckboys never ended well— especially not when said fuck boy was your old high school crush. 

But you don’t deny it. You don’t even say a word. You just lean up, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pull him down to kiss you. 

You’d imagined kissing him—but god you had not expected him to fucking whimper when you kissed him.  

He tastes like cigarettes and shitty beer. But mostly he tastes like spring rain and cinnamon sugar and god you just wanted more of him. 

 “--fuck” He whimpers into the kiss, pulling you as close as he possibly can. You whine back, shifting to sit up on the counter, pulling him to stand between your legs. 

You nip at his bottom lip, grinning when he grunts in annoyance, hands gripping at your hips as he pulled away from the kiss, “--fuck–baby” you try to kiss him again but he shakes his head and pants, “--wait baby—wait—”

“Ple–please” you whine back, desperately trying to pull him closer, pouting when he shakes his head at you.

“I just—I just need to make sure you’re okay with this” he pants, moving one hand to cradle the back of your head, tugging a bit at your hair to make you look up at him.

His glasses sit at an odd angle, his cheeks are flushed bright red, and – god he looks just as desperate as you feel. 

Fuck it. This is happening.

You tug at his shirt, letting out a breathy whine, “Ple-please–fuck–please Klitz.” 

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “come on pretty girl–tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you” 

You whimper, feeling the imprint of his cock pressed into your thigh, “--dammit– please Klitz– I want—I want you please” It doesn’t take much more for him to take the hint and lean forward, fingers tangling into your hair as he pulled you into another kiss. 

Fuck

He kissed you like he needed it to survive.

He pinned you to the counter, one hand at your hip and the other at the back of your neck. You were on cloud fucking nine and he’d barely done anything yet. You grappled at his shoulders and curled your fingers into his hair, tugging lighty and savoring the little gasps Klitz offered you. 

“Christ you’re fucking gorgeous,” he pants, kissing along your jaw and down your neck, sucking little bruises onto your skin, “Haven’t–fuck–haven’t been able to—to get you out of my head” 

You whine breathlessly, unable to fully form words, “You–-you—you think about–about me?” He chuckles, and you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

“Mmhm” he hums as he moves his hand from your hip and deftly works his nimble fingers beneath your crop top, “Fuck–” he tugs at the shirt a bit, “Can I? Please  I wanna see you.”

You nod, shuffling backward a bit on the counter to help him pull your crop top off over your head. He whimpers as soon as he catches a glimpse of your bra and you were suddenly very glad you’d let Hayden pick out your outfit for the party. 

“Fuck–you’re just–you’re just so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, lurching forward to catch your lips in a bruising kiss. You whine into the kiss, grasping at his shirt and pulling him closer shivering as he manages to unclip your bra and toss it aside with your top. 

He leaves a trail of kisses from your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck until he reaches your bare breasts. He stares at them for a moment, and you can hear his breath catching in an airy whine as he palms at your chest.

You aren’t even shocked at the realization that he’s definitely got a thing for tits. You’d seen him ogle at your chest more than enough times for it to be a pretty easy guess. 

Still, it makes you a little giddy to know he gets so distracted by you and you barely have to do anything. 

“Fuck baby, you have the prettiest fucking tits, you know that?” 

You can’t help but blush a little at the admission laughing breathlessly, “Thanks”

He grins, leaning forward to kiss your collage bone, dragging his lips down leaving bruises all over your chest, pinching your nipple between his index finger and thumb. You whine arching into his touch, as his free hand falls between your thighs, ghosting over your panties.

“Baby you have no fucking idea how long I’ve been waiting for this” he whispers before dragging his tongue down between your breasts.

He whines nearly as loud as you do when he cups his hand over your panties, “Christ you’re already soaked.” 

“Klitz–please” you whine, rolling your hips into his hands and he hums taking a moment to just feel the heat of your cunt through your soaked panties as he kisses down your stomach, stopping above your hip.

“Fuck please–please I wanna taste you” he whines, sucking a few small bruises over your hip as he slowly bunches your skirt up, “Come one lemme taste you pretty girl” 

He knows exactly what he’s doing, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties as he waits for your response. And fuck if it doesn’t drive you wild to hear him begging to put his mouth on you. 

You nod frantically whimpering as you comb your fingers through his hair, “Ple–please Klitz” 

He’s shoving your legs apart in an instant, flipping your skirt up and tugging your pretty pink panties down to your ankles, letting them fall to the ground.

“Fuck baby you sound so good saying my name.” he groans combing through his hair with his fingers, pulling it back into a messy ponytail at the back of his head. You’re almost sure you’re going into cardiac arrest when he looks up at you through fogged-up glasses with his hair tied back and a little smug grin on his lips.

He sucks another bruise above your hip as he moves his hands up and down your outer thighs. You stare down at him, chest rising and falling with stuttered breaths. He moves one hand between your legs and you nearly fall forward when you feel his fingers just barely ghosting over your cunt.

He laughs looking up at you for a second and then down between your legs, eyes wide with excitement as he runs his fingers through your slick folds,“Fuck I bet you taste good” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh just as his thumb brushes over your clit making you gasp.

“Kl-klitz” 

 “Shit–pretty girl–this all for me?” He chuckles, mouthing at your inner thigh as he gathers your slick along his fingers.

He drags an answer out of you easily as he presses his thumb to your clit, “--Fuck–yes please–” 

Christ, he’s such a fucking asshole.

He interrupts you with a shit-eating grin as he moves his thumb in a tight circle over your clit, “Don’t worry baby I’ll give you what you want.” 

You don’t even have to wait for an explanation before he’s got his head between your thighs, tongue swiping up along your folds until it catches on your clit. You curl forward, fingers tangling into his hair as you try to close your thighs around his head. 

He pulls back from your clit, “As much as I love being crushed between your thighs I can’t do much if you suffocate me.” he teases, pinching your hip until you open your legs.

His lips are back on your cunt in a matter of seconds and you fight the urge to close your trembling thighs around his head again. Fuck–its unfair how quickly he has you coming apart.

All it takes is a swipe of his tongue against your clit and his fingers teasing at your entrance and your mind goes absolutely blank. He barely has to try very hard to slip his fingers inside of you, groaning against your sensitive clit when your cunt tightens around his fingers.

He laps at your cunt like a man dying of thirst. He presses his fingers inside of you and whimpers every time you tug on his hair. He hums in approval and lets you buck your hips freely, practically begging you to smother him. 

You’d never had a man so dedicated to making you feel good before. It was a rare treat to find a guy who liked eating a girl out.-- It was rarer still to find a guy who was actually good at it. And fuck– Klitz is fucking amazing at it. 

Klitz is also a fucking tease.

Because he knows he’s good at making you feel good. He knows exactly how to curl his fingers inside of you and trace his tongue in tight circles over your clit. He knows he’s driving you absolutely wild. And he fucking loves it.

Fuck–

He presses a third finger inside of you and hums against your clit, “God I fucking knew you’d taste amazing.” he groans and pulls back slightly, sucking a bruise into your inner thigh. You can feel him grinning as he curls his fingers inside of you and it annoys the shit out of you how much he turns you on.

You tug on his hair, smirking when he whines in response, “fucking–stop teasing”  

He lets out a shaky breath and curls his fingers into the sweet spot that has you nearly sobbing as he smirks, “You tellin' me what to do pretty girl?” 

Your words come out in breathy gasps, “So wha–what if i am?”

He snickers, leaning forward to suck hard on your clit, humming in approval when you try you to shove him closer, “Aw come on, don't be like that,” he curls his fingers again, pressing deeper, “you just gotta ask nicely and I’ll do whatever you want.” he promises, smiling sweetly at you, chin soaked with your slick.

You whine, shaking your head as you tug hard on his hair, shoving his face back down between your thighs. He smiles against your cunt but stops moving his fingers, offering you nothing but lazy kisses to your clit. 

Fucking asshole.

You buck your hips forward whining at him and he pinches your hip, lifting his head, tilting his chin up at you, “Come on pretty girl,” he leaves his fingers inside of you, pressing his other hand against your hip, making it harder for you to buck into him, as he clicks his tongue at you, “I’m not gonna help you if you’re not nice to me.” 

You pout, biting your lip for a moment refusing to give him what he wants until he starts to pull his fingers from your cunt and you let out a choked sob, “Pl–please Klitz” 

He grins, humming in approval and pressing a kiss above your clit, “Please what? Come on pretty girl, you can do better than that can’t you?” 

“Fuck you–” 

He interrupts you with a quick curl of his fingers and his lips against your clit and it doesn’t take much more for you to give him the response he’s looking for.

“Please–please Klitz–-please I’m so close–” you pause and he gives you an approving hum, encouraging you to continue, “Please–I need–I need to cum—please Klitz—please let me cum”

Mercifully he doesn’t make you beg much more before he’s got his mouth on your clit and his fingers driving into your cunt, pulling sweet little cries out of you as he drags you to the edge. He gives you a pleased groan as he swirls his tongue in tight circles around your sensitive clit. 

You curse, dragging your hands from his hair and grappling at his shirt in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself. You can’t even tell if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away at this point. All you know is that you’re dangerously close to going over the edge—

Time stops for a second and suddenly you’re falling, repeating Klitz’s name as you squeeze around his fingers. You’re a fucking mess, babbling while he laps greedily at your cunt.. 

“Fuck baby you taste so fucking good–” he groans.

Distantly you notice that he’s moved the hand that isn’t busy fucking you through your climax down between his leg to palm at his cock through his jeans.  He’s so turned on by the act of pleasuring you that he can’t stop the rocking of his hips desperately seeking the wet heat of your cunt. And fuck if that doesn’t send your mind into a haze.

It takes you what feels like hours to claw your way back to reality, fingers shakily carding through his hair as you try to pull him away. As much as you want him to keep finger fucking you, you also want to cum on his cock at least once before the end of the night. This was likely the only chance you’d ever have to fuck him, and you were determined to get your fill. 

Still, he refuses to pull away from you, tongue tracing lazy circles around your clit as you jerk forward a bit from overstimulation, “--Fuck–fuck–Klitz—Klitz please—I want–”

He pulls back a bit, replacing his tongue on your clit with his thumb, as he looks up at you with a smug grin, chin dripping with your slick, “--fuck pretty girl–go on tell me what you want–” 

“I want–I want you to fuck me–please” 

He must be as desperate as you are because he’s standing in an instant, crashing his lips against yours so hard you fall back slightly, choking on a sob when his thumb drags over your clit and his fingers slip out with a slick popping sound. You can taste yourself on his tongue, hot and heavy with need.

He groans when you pull him closer, hands moving away from his hair and wandering down his chest. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip when your hand grazes over his cock through his jeans. 

“Fuck baby you-”

You don’t even let him finish the statement before you’re unbuckling his belt and shoving your hand down his pants. He nearly sobs when you curl your hand around the base of his cock. And fuck– he really did live up to the stereotypes of tall skinny guys with massive cocks. 

Its a bit of an odd angle but you ignore the tension in your forearm in favor of watching him throw his head back and whine as you pump your hand along with his cock.You curl your other hand into the front of his shirt and drag him a little closer, taking the opportunity to kiss along his jaw and run your tongue down his neck. 

“Shit–you–you’re trouble aren’t you?” he laughs and you suck a bruise into his neck, grinning when you feel his adam’s apple bob as he swallows a shaky whine.

You chuckle, kissing down his neck and sucking another bruise into his collarbone, “If I’m–trouble what does that make you?”

He laughs, “It makes me–”, you interrupt him with a squeeze of the base of his cock making his next words come out in gasps, “It makes me–fuck–makes me really fucking horny.” You giggle, pulling him back down to kiss you again, consuming each of his breathy gasps as you work for your hand up and down his cock, spreading beads of his precum along the length.

“You–you got a condom?” you whisper between kisses, “I want–I want you to fuck me” 

His eyes go wide as he pants, “You-you're gonna let me fuck you?”

All it takes is your quiet nod and another squeeze of his cock and he’s shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a silvery little wrapper. You grin, a little dazed as you pluck the wrapper from his hands. You don’t even have to direct him to take off his pants before he’s frantically shoving them down his legs, nearly tripping in the process and forcing you to release his cock for a moment. 

You can’t even stop yourself from whining when your eyes fall to his cock as it curves up against his pelvis, tip sticky with pre-cum. Fuck–he’s really fucking big

“See something you like?” he chuckles, hands brushing over your thighs, once again leaving you flustered and at his mercy. Of course, you couldn’t possibly expect to have the upper hand for long. 

Smug little shit–

“What’s the matter, pretty girl? I thought you wanted me to fuck you?” His hand is back between your thighs while the other curls behind your back and you nearly drop the condom when his fingers brush over your clit.

“I–I do–I just–” you pause biting the inside of your cheek, “You’re just–um–fuck–you’re gonna let this go to your head–but—you’re bigger than most guys I’ve been with.”

You expect him to laugh, or say something cheesy like I’ll make it fit like most guys would. 

Instead, he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, dipping his fingers between your folds, “You choose how far we go pretty girl– I’m good if this is all we do– fuck I’d be willing to get on me knees and spend the rest of tonight with my mouth on you if that’s what you want.” 

Somehow it’s the sweetest thing a guy has ever said to you in this situation. 

You stare up at him for a moment. The idea of him back on his knees between your thighs again does appeal to you but if this is the only time you ever get to do this with him you want to be able to say you know what it feels like to have his cock inside of you. 

You shake your head, bringing the condom wrapper to your mouth, tearing it open with your teeth while maintaining eye contact with him. “I said I wanted you to fuck me didn’t I?” 

He licks his lips and chuckles,” Yea, you did.”

You pull the condom from the wrapper and toss it aside, dragging your hands down to his cock, watching his reactions as you carefully roll the condom over his cock. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing a whine as you roll the condom inch by inch onto his cock, giving the base a squeeze once you reach it. 

You lean forward, other hand twisting into his shirt, dragging him down until your lips are just barely touching, “Show me what has all the girls talking about you all the time.”

“Fuck–” he groans, “Fuck–alright–fuck–I’ve gotta prep you–I don’t–I don’t want to hurt you” 

You nod as he shits to lift your legs to wrap around your waist, carefully working his fingers back into your cunt. You are reminded of how fucking good at this he is with every swipe of his thumb over your clit. It's absolutely unfair how good he is at it but god it feels good to have his fingers stretching you out.

Your hand trembles as you try to pump his cock in time with his fingers curling inside of you. nips at the underside of your jaw, groaning when you squeeze the base of his cock. Once or twice you manage to make him lose focus. But he’s quick to gain the upper hand, curling his fingers against the sweet spot that makes your thighs tremble and your mind go blank. 

“Fuck–Klitz–I need you now– please” you whine, bucking your hips and tugging on his shirt, desperately trying to drag him closer to you.

His fingers stop moving for a moment as he stares at you, trying to gauge your reaction, “Fuck baby– are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You nod, pulling your hands away from his cock to drag him closer, “Please–’m ready–I need you–” 

He looks like he wants to argue for a moment but it’s clear he’s just as at your mercy as you are at his. Finally, he groans, rutting against your thigh as he curls his fingers inside of you one last time before pulling them out with a wet popping sound.

He helps you lift your legs around his waist, and guides his cock slowly between your thighs, groaning when he presses the tip to your entrance, pausing with a choked gasp, “Fuck–are you sure— we don’t have to–we don’t have to do this–” 

You tremble as you reach up curling your fingers into his hair, “Please– I promise-–promise m’ ready—just—just go slow, okay? “ 

“Fuck yea–yea I’ll go— I’ll go slow” he promises with a gasp.

He makes good on that promise, pressing into you as slowly and as gently as he can, cradling the back of your head while the other grasps at your hip. Still, every inch of him pressing deeper into your tight heat drags the air out of your lungs. 

“Fuuuuuuuck” he nearly sobs when he finally bottoms out, “fuck—fuck– you’re so–fucking tight–oh my fucking god— I knew—I fucking knew you’d feel good.” 

You can’t even think, let alone speak with your cunt clenching around his cock as you try to get used to the feeling of him inside of you. He’s so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach. All you can do is babble incoherently at him, repeating his name like it’s the only word you know. You aren’t even fully aware of it when you start rolling your hips trying to get him to start moving and he has to grip your hip a little harder to get you to stop moving. 

“Fuck–please—please fuck me Klitz--please” you whine, trying to drag him closer, forcing him to just fucking move already.

Bless Klitz for his ability to be patient with you even when you’re being a whiney brat.

“Are you sure baby? I don’t wanna hurt you–fuck–” he looks at you and you know immediately that he’d stop in an instant if you told him to. But you don’t want him to stop. You want him to fuck you until all you can’t remember is his name.  You want to be able to feel him long after he’s done with you. 

“Please– I want this–-I need it—” you gasp, pouting a bit when he still doesn’t look convinced. It takes everything out of you to focus on forming words correctly as you bring your hands to the sides of his face forcing him to look you in the eyes, “Klitz—Klitz I trust you—- I know you won’t hurt me—Please baby I need you so bad” 

He stares into your eyes searching for any sign that you might want to back out, and when he doesn’t find any he curses, pulling his hips back with a groan until only the tip of his cock remains. 

Just as you’re about to try begging him again his lips are crashing into yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your whine when he drives his cock back into your cunt, dragging the air from your lungs all over again. He pulls your hips forward, bringing you to sit a little closer to the edge of the counter. 

You can’t even tell which one of you making more noise at this point. His whimpers and whines are nearly as pathetic as yours. “Fuck pretty girl–-you’re fucking—perfect–so fucking perfect” 

He kisses along your jaw, and down your neck tracing over the bruises he’d already left on you. One of his hands remains on his hips, while the other palms at your breasts. He moans and you aren’t sure if it's from your cunt squeezing around cock or the feeling of your tits warm under his palm. It’s probably both.

You feel a bit giddy knowing you hold any power over him at all. But it’s difficult to focus any energy on using that power when he’s driving his cock into you and dragging you closer and closer to your second orgasm. All you can do is try to pull him closer, your cunt fluttering with every slow drag of his cock driving in and out of you. 

“So glad—glad you let me fuck you– been fucking waiting for this” he admits, mouthing at your collarbone and pinching your nipple between his index finger and thumb, “god—fucking–I don’t deserve this—don’t deserve you like this–fuck” every word is punctuated by his cock driving back into your tight heat until you’re choking on it. 

You fumble a bit, grappling for purchase on the back of his shirt, fingernails digging into his back and making him hiss, his hips stuttering a bit nearly losing his pace. 

“Klitz—fuck—should have—should have let you do this sooner” your head rolls back and your lucky Klitz is quick to move his hand off of your hip to curl around the back of your head making sure his knuckles hit the mirror instead of your face.

“Fuck–god–You made me wait all this time?” he smirks peering at you through fogged up glasses, “I should make you beg to cum for making me wait so long” 

You laugh breathlessly, looking at him with a dazed smile, “You want me to beg?” you clench around his cock, grinning when his hips stutter a bit, “I’ll beg–If that’s what you want–come on tell me what you want pretty boy”

He whimpers–and fuck you’re really starting to realize how much you like it when he whimpers like that as he pulls you forward and kisses you hard as he drags his hand from your breasts down between your thighs, “I want–fuck—I wanna feel you cum on my cock—”

You grin, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and dragging your fingernails along his back, bucking your hips to meet his steady thrusts, “Then make me cum–”

He doesn’t even wait for you to finish the sentence before he’s driving his cock into you hard and tracing tight circles over your clit. You’re about to ask if he’s close to cumming too, but you get your answer as soon as you notice his thrusts falter a bit.

He drags you back over the edge in a matter of seconds, but this time he’s falling with you, babbling and cursing as his hips stutter and you cry out his name, holding him as close as you can, rolling your hips to meet his erratic thrusts. 

Your cunt spasms and once again your vision blurs and time slows as he fucks you through your shared climax. Klitz is relentless, driving his cock into you even as he struggles to stay standing, body curling over yours as he presses his face into your neck.

And fuck–the sounds he makes as he spills into the condom are enough to make you dizzy. He says your name like a prayer, dragging your hips against his and mouthing at your neck, sucking a few more bruises along the way, choking on a whine everytime he feels you squeeze around him.

“Fuck–Klitz” you babble as his thumb grazes back over your oversensitive clit, “Please—s’too much–please” 

You trust Klitz to stop when you ask him to– more than you’d trusted any other guy, And he stops almost as soon as the words pass between the two of you, hand instantly moving to hold your hip as he looks at you with wide eyes. You can feel him trembling as he tries to stay still.

“Sorry–fuck– I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asks, voice cracking from overexertion. 

You shake your head, reaching a hand back over his shoulders to pull the pony tail from his hair, “No–’m just—just really sensitive” you cradle his face, smiling when he leans into your palm.

“Fuck– can i just–can i just stay like this for a minute” he whispers, whining a bit when you cunt spasms again and you nod, dragging him down to meet you in a kiss. 

It takes a few minutes for the both of you to calm down and even once you’ve come down from the high of your orgasm you still feel like your stuck in a fog. But mostly you just feel really fucking good–sensitive and shaky—but good.

Eventually he shifts up a little bit, pressing one last lazy kiss to your neck as he slowly pulls out, careful not to brush against your clit and whispering little apologies when you whimper a bit at the loss of his cock. 

He stares at you, and you can see a million thoughts running around behind his green eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about when he shifts backwards a bit and pulls the condom off, tying it off and tossing it into the garbage by the toilet. 

He looks around for a moment until he sees a shelf of clean towels and quickly swipes a small wash cloth. He gently pushes your leg apart again, standing between them as he flicks the faucet of the sink back on, wetting the cloth under it for a moment before turning it off and pressing the damp cloth on your thigh.

You shiver, cursing softly and he whispers a quiet apology, “Sorry–lemme just clean you up alright?”

Christ for a fuck boy he really was rather sweet. 

You spread your legs a bit more to make it easier for him, lifting your skirt so it doesn’t fall as he gently cleans you up. You almost beg him to fuck you again when he pauses at your cunt, staring at it and licking his lips. But he doesn’t give you the chance, cleaning you up in a matter of minutes, pressing a few kisses on your thighs to apologize when he brushes the cloth over your clit. 

He helps you back into your panties, letting you lean on him as he tugs them over your ass and snaps the waistband against your hips. He cleans himself off last, tucking his dick back into his boxer’s as he pulls his pants up. 

“Klitz?” you whisper, “um–where’d you throw my braw and my top?” 

He finds them quickly but doesn’t hand them off to you at first, just staring at your bare chest for a moment before whispering, “Ya know I meant it when I said you have the pretties tits.” 

You snort snatching your clothes out of his hands, “You tell that to all the girls you seduce?”

He smiles and shakes his head as he buckles his belt, watching you clip your bra back on, “Nope–just you pretty girl”

You know it’s foolish to believe a fuck boy– but you really can’t help it when he stares at you with those green eyes and that little smirk. 

“Sure you do.” you retort, slipping your crop top back over your head, shifting to pull it over your chest as he watches you, eyes darting from your chest to your face. You shuffle off the counter, nearly stumbling when you forget that your legs are still a little shaky.

 Klitz catches you by the waist, pushing you back against the counter again with a smirk, “Careful pretty girl” Klitz stares at you for a moment and then leans forward catching you in another kiss, humming in approval when you drag him closer. 

You pull away panting, “I should–I should go home” you whisper, not even fighting him when he pulls you in for another kiss.

He sucks on your bottom lip for a moment before pulling away completely, giving you a smug grin when you whine at him, “ I wanna do this again sometime.” 

You tilt your head a bit surprised at his admission, “You do?”

He nods, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face, “Mmhm…Unless you’re gonna hide from me again.” 

You roll your eyes and shove his arm, “I wasn’t hiding from you.” 

You aren’t even trying to be convincing.

Still he lets you keep your dignity with a chuckle as he shakes his head and steps back a bit, “Alright–how about you text me later if doing this again is something your interested in, yea?”

You already know you’re going to say yes.

Still you nod, “I’ll think about it.” 

He grins cheekily shuffling towards the door, “I look forward to receiving your text.” he twists the door knob and looks back at you once more, “uh–also text when you get home so I know you made it home safe.” 

You bit back the urge to tease him for being worried, far to giddy about it to be in a position to make fun of him.

“I will.” you promise, giggling when he smiles and winks at you before slipping out the door into the hallway.

Well fuck–

You pick up your phone and step towards the door, opening up your text chain with Hayden and Jayce again to find a few new messages from them.

>>JayJay: yea with a K ;)))))

>>HEY!den: oh yeah Klitzy ;) (1 hour ago)

>>HEY!den: you fuck him finally??? 

>>JayJay: please tell me u fucked him finally omfg u are driving me insane girly u need some dick rn (30 minutes ago)

>>JayJay: I’m gonna be heading home soon, lemme know if you guys want a ride (2 minutes ago)

>>HEY!den: Yes please!!!

>>Y/N: I’ll meet you at the door

>>JayJay:Okay but hurry or im leaving without you lol

>>HEY!den: don’t listen to him babes i wont let him leave with out you <3

>>JayJay: u r no fun :(

You shake your head, yanking the door open, silently thanking your lucky stars that there aren’t many people in the hall way. The party has cleared up a bit so it doesn’t take you long to make your way to the front door. 

You see Jayce and his messy head of dirty blonde hair first, leaning against a wall with Haydan leaning against his side, her dark hair falling over her face as she fights sleep. Jayce notices you instantly and waves you over, eyes widening a bit when he notices the hickies on your neck. 

You don’t even let him say a word before you lift a hand to cover his mouth, “You can ask all your silly little questions when we get home.” 

–he doesn’t even last the two minute walk to his car before he’s blurting out questions.

#just angels updates #justcallmeangel fic tag #this ones dedicated to danonation #danonation #college au klitz #klitz x reader #klitz the girl next door #klitz x you #eli the girl next door #the girl next door #fanfic #klitz fanfic #just angels fuckboy! klitz #fuckboy! klitz #angel is suffering from severe klitz brain rot #nsft fic #college au #might do a part two #angel's stuff and things #the girl next door 2004 #paul dano fanfic #dano nation #klitz smut #klitz #paul dano nation

[just-call-me-angel]

Little Miss Loser

Chapter 5 - Feelings are Stupid

Warnings: None

Author's Note: I really wanted to get this update out a lot sooner but I've been having a rough couple of days. The next update will be out either this weekend or Monday. Thank you guys for being so incredibly patient with me! I also really appreciate all the love you guys have been showing me for this fic! Honestly, the love and encouragement you guys have been offering me have been really helpful for me since I started writing again, and I really can't thank you guys enough for that.

Summary: It was hard to lie when he was looking at you. How could he not like you? He could still remember the day he realized his feelings for you went beyond friendship like it was yesterday.

Ao3

Chapters: || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 ||

Dwayne by nature was a pessimist. He expected the worst and was usually proven right. So he wasn’t the least bit confused when the bus began to stall and his stepfather was forced to call a tow truck to cart the bus off to a roadside mechanic not far from the diner they had stopped at for Lunch. 

It was almost funny how often his family seemed to find trouble. Dwayne especially enjoyed the fact that Richard often got the worst of it. It was all too entertaining to hear Richard go on and on about the 9 steps to being a winner when the man had such shit luck most of the time. 

Still, it was a bit annoying to have to sit in some junkyard while waiting for his mother and Richard to finish talking with the mechanic. He watched from an old beat-up car as you ran around the junkyard with Olive, chasing one another back and forth. He couldn’t help smiling at how much you and his sister got along. He liked knowing there was someone else who looked out for Olive as much as he did.

“You like her don’t you?” Frank whispered beside him, giving Dwayne a knowing smile when he turned to face him wide-eyed. Dwayne sat there staring at his uncle, brows furrowed in worry and cheeks already flushed bright red. 

Frank chuckled and lightly elbowed Dwayne in the arm, “Come on don’t deny it, I’ve seen the way you look at her.” Dwayne began shaking his head rapidly as he fumbled for his notebook in an attempt to deny his Uncle’s claims. 

Pressing his pen to his notebook aggressively he wrote, “Shut up.”

Frank laughed again, shaking his head as he moved to pat Dwayne on the shoulder, “Dwayne I’m not going to tell anyone.” he said softly as Dwayne shuffled nervously beside him.

 Dwayne relaxed slightly but still gave his uncle a skeptical look. 

“I swear to you Dwayne I won’t tell her.” Frank promises, “Though you should know she looks at you the same way.” 

Dwayne rolled his eyes, scoffing before writing quickly beneath his previous note, “Yeah right.”

Frank opened his mouth as if prepared to argue against Dwayne’s denial but seemed to think better of it, sighing as he looked over at you and Olive still running around the junkyard. You noticed Dwayne and Frank watching you and grinned at the two of them, waving excitedly before diving after Olive as she moved to run around you.

“Do you like her for a while?” he asked quietly.

Dwayne doesn’t know why he even nods. This had been one of the many things he had been worried about when you were invited along on the trip. His family found out about how he felt towards you and would ruin everything. Yet he finds himself nodding almost immediately as he stares across the junkyard at you. 

It was hard to lie when he was looking at you. How could he not like you? He could still remember the day he realized his feelings for you went beyond friendship like it was yesterday.

It had been just after he had taken his vow of silence. You had been the first to support him in his decision, “I’ll talk enough for the two of us don’t worry.” is what you had told him after teasing him a bit, “Just promise you’ll sneak me onto a jet at least once, okay?” 

It hadn’t been hard to maintain his vow while at home, he rarely spoke to anyone besides you and Olive anyways. But school was a bit more of a struggle. He was already a quiet kid and had never been a stranger to the teasings of dickheaded classmates. It didn’t bother him, he tended to ignore it most of the time, while you were always so quick to jump to his defense. 

Even before the two of you officially became friends you were always looking out for him. It had been annoying at first, he didn't want you to protect him. But it felt good to have someone watching his back, especially when he had been so intent on ignoring you. 

You never seemed to be willing to give up on him, even back then when word got out that he’d taken to communicating with pen and paper kids found even more reason to make fun of him. And you as usual refused to let your classmates get away with making fun of your best friend.

As if your classmates weren’t already bad enough, your teachers were often less than accommodating for Dwayne.

One such teacher was your third-period Algebra 2 teacher. Mr. George Keating was an angry old man, twice divorced, who hated kids and hated his job. Really you had no idea why he had even ever become a teacher in the first place, not only did he hate his job, he was just plain bad at it. And he was always hellbent on going after students he deemed to be problems. These students of course mostly consisted of the queer kids, the kids with problems at home, the kids with learning disabilities, and of course the quiet loner types like your dear friend Dwayne. 

“Mr. Hoover, I'd like for you to tell me the answer to problem 5 of last night's homework.” M.r Keating called out above the quiet chatter of students around you. Dwayne exhaled deeply, casting you a bored look from the seat next to you. You chuckled quietly as he shuffled to grab his pen and paper to write down the answer, before showing it to you. He had taken to letting you read his answers aloud in classes that you had together, most teachers seemed to accept that as long as Dwayne participated in some way. You leaned closer to him to read over his shoulder smiling at the way he always seemed to make his handwriting a little neater when he needed you to be able to read it, “the answer to problem 5 is-” 

Mr. Keating waved a hand to interrupt you, “I don’t recall asking you for the answer miss (Y/N) (L/N).” 

You stared at him for a moment, brows furrowed in annoyance at his interruption. The entire class was suddenly silent as you tried to speak again, ‘M.r Keating–” 

He waved his hand in the air again, stepping a little closer to you as he tossed the dry erase marker he had been using onto his desk, “As I said, miss (L/N) I did not ask you for the answer, I asked Dwayne.” 

You looked then at Dwayne who was fidgeting with his notebook, clearly uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving. 

“I’ll ask again, Mr. Hoover, what is the answer to problem 5?” 

Dwayne shuffled and turned his notebook to allow Mr. Keating to read his answer from the paper.

“I expect a verbal answer from Mr. Hoover.�� 

Dwayne blinked at Mr. Keating for a moment and then turned to your brows furrowed in frustration.

You immediately argued with your teacher, “Mr. Keating, Dwayne’s taken a vow of silence, you can’t expect him to–” 

“I have tolerated this game of yours long enough Mr. Hoover. I am not as lenient as your other teachers and I will not allow you to continue this charade in my classroom, it is a distraction to your classmate's learning.” You could see Dwayne’s knuckles going white as he gripped his notebook and you couldn’t blame him, you were fuming, nearly ready to leap over your desk and bite Mr. Keating’s arm or something.

“Mr. Keating-” you were interrupted again with a wave of your teacher's hand in front of your face.

“I will ask one last time, Mr. Hoover, what is the answer to question number 5.”

Dwayne shook his head and moved to show his notebook one last time.

Mr. Keating huffed as he looked around the room at the sea of students watching him, finally he looked down at Dwayne, “I will not allow this kind of disrespect in my classroom any longer, you are disrupting your classmates learning, grab your things and go to the principal's office at once, and expect to be staying after school for detention for a while.” 

Dwayne exhaled a shaky breath but stood up, shoving his things into his bookbag, and casting a glance at you before shoving past Mr. Keating towards the door.

You spoke up as he was reaching the door, “Hey Mr. Keating.” you said, shuffling to gather your own things, “maybe if you got that stick out of your ass you’d be less of a dick to your students.” 

Mr. Keating was nearly purple in the face, practically choking on air as he gaped at you in shock. Laughter scattered throughout the classroom as you shoved your things into your bookbag, glancing at the door to find Dwayne standing there staring at you.

Mr. Keating fumbled to respond, waving his hand to silence the laughter of your classmates before turning to you and pointing at the door.

You stood up before he could even say a word, slinging your bag over one shoulder as you gave him a smug smile, “Let me guess… Principal's office?” 

“Out.” he fumed, “Now. Miss (L/N)”

“With pleasure Mr. Keating,” you laughed, shuffling around your desk and striding confidently over to where Dwayne still stood at the door. You beamed at him, shoving the door open with your elbow, before turning back to Mr. Keating, “see ya on the flip side Mr. K!” you said with a wave as you pulled Dwayne along with you to exit the room.

Dwayne was at a loss for words– or rather he was at a loss for thoughts. You had defended him time and time again and had often gotten into trouble on his behalf, your mother had even threatened to stop letting you hang around with Dwayne because she thought he was a bad influence. But you didn’t need Dwayne to find trouble, you did that well enough all on your own. 

You walked with him with a skip in your step as you made your way to the Principles giggling about how stupid Mr. Keating had looked when the class was laughing at him. All while Dwayne was coming to a very important realization 

He liked you– well he had always liked you. But this was different. He liked the way you were so protective of him. He liked that you were loud and obnoxious. He liked that you didn’t take shit from people who wanted to put you down. He liked the way you sometimes snorted when you laughed too hard. He liked that despite teasing him constantly you were incredibly easy to fluster without even trying. He liked that you sought him out for comfort and he liked that the two of you had a secret place in Tingley Beach. And he liked–

He liked you more than a friend should. 

Dwayne felt himself smiling at the memory before he realized Frank was looking at him, grinning like he knew all of Dwayne’s secrets. He probably did. It would be Dwayne’s shitty luck to find another person who seemed to be able to see right through his bullshit. 

Dwayne stood up before Frank could say another word, he desperately wanted to escape the conversation. He refused to let this trip and his stupid fucking feelings ruin the relationship he had with you. Frank followed after him quickly, almost as stubborn and tenacious as you were half the time, any other day, and Dwayne might have found the comparison a bit funny. 

“Dwayne I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to.” Frank sighed, walking as fast as he could to match Dwayne’s pace, “But I’m here if you ever decide you do want to talk about it.” 

Dwayne shook his head, taking longer strides to walk ahead of his uncle as he made his way to where his mother and Richard were talking with the Mechanic. Dwayne didn’t understand why his Uncle even cared, the guy hadn’t seen him since he was like 10. And why didn’t he seem to understand how fucking badly this could end if you ever found out. 

He shuffled into the old garage, standing in the doorway to watch as Richard and his Mom tried haggling with the Mechanic. He heard a noise behind him but didn’t move to see who it was, he assumed it was probably Frank. Until of course, he felt someone slam into his back and he knew as soon as he heard a snort and laughter that it was you.

Dwayne stumbled for a moment before catching himself, while you scrambled to jump onto his back, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. Dwayne grunted but didn't try to push you away, instead he crouched slightly and moved to pull your legs up around his waist to lift you into a piggyback ride.

You giggled, hugging him over his shoulders, “Hiya Dwayne.” 

He grunted and rolled his eyes, tilting his head slightly to poke his tongue out at you. You only grinned wider at him, “Are you having fun yet?” He shrugged and shifted to carry you more comfortably on his back, jostling you around a bit in the process.

“Hey watch it, tough guy, you’re gonna drop me.” you laughed, holding tighter to his shoulders, while he gave you a smirk and shifted again purposefully pretending to drop you and then grinning when you squealed and grappled to hang on to him. 

“Okay okay okay!” you giggled, “I surrender, please don’t drop me.” He jostled you once more, before giving you a smug smile when he playfully smacked his chest, “God ya know you should be nicer to me since I’m your best friend and all.” He shrugged, laughing softly to himself before crouching slightly to let you down. You hung tightly onto him for a moment longer before allowing him to let you down and you shuffled to his side to stand next to him, bumping your elbows together as the two of you watched Richard grow frustrated with the mechanic.

You leaned into Dwayne’s side, tugging his arm to get his attention as you gestured towards Richard, “how much longer before he explodes?” you teased, “Seriously his face looks like it's about to pop.”

Dwayne just shook his head and smiled while you laughed next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his uncle watching their interaction, and he couldn’t help feeling like his uncle was planning something despite his promises not to interfere with Dwayne’s friendship. 

#little miss sunshine #dwayne hoover #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover x you #little miss loser update #justcallmeangel fic tag #paul dano #paul dano fanfic #danonation #this ones dedicated to danonation #fanfic #ao3 fic #angel is mentally ill as fuck #but at least i can write my silly little fanfics #and day dream about being dwayne hoovers bestie #just angels updates

[just-call-me-angel]

The Perfect Girl

Warnings: nsft content, non-con/dub-con elements, manipulation, slut shaming, Reader is Ruby Sparks, author is a disgusting little Calvin Weir-field's apologist

Author's Note: I am not ashamed to admit that I have had severe brain rot over Calvin Weir-Fields since the moment I saw Ruby Sparks. I am a Calvin apologist first and a person second. Please be mindful of the tags, this fic involves heavy non-con/dub-con elements that may be triggering. If this is not something you are interested in I ask that you simply move past my fic and forget it even exists. (Curate your online experience how you want it to be!)If you do read the fic and enjoy it feel free to leave some comments for me to read later when I inevitably come back to read through this and giggle like an idiot over Calvin being a dickhead.

Pairing: Calvin Weir Fields X Reader

Summary: Calvin should hate himself for how easy it is to lie to you. He should hate himself for how much he enjoys bending you to his will. But he doesn't hate himself, he doesn't even try. In the beginning, he had tried to delude himself into thinking he was doing the right thing in rewriting you. He told himself he was helping you and for a time he was content in believing that it was true. But with every edit he made to you it became clear it wasn't about making you happy anymore. It was about him. Because the truth was that Calvin was a selfish man who wanted you all to himself. He wanted you to belong to him. He had made you after all, was it so awful for him to want to keep you as his perfect girl?

Ao3

You should have known the night wasn’t going to end well as soon as Calvin had reminded you about that stupid fucking party.  You should have told him to just go on his own. Maybe then you wouldn’t have ended up arguing.

Or maybe you still would have argued. These days you never really knew what to expect from Calvin. Hell you barely knew what to expect from yourself anymore. You were in a constant loop of going from extremely happy, giggling as Calvin kissed the back of your neck while you tried to cook to so depressed that you’d taken to locking yourself up in the spare room so Calvin wouldn’t see you crying to angry at everything, especially Calvin and then back to happy. 

It was driving you insane. You were tired, you were frustrated and your feet were fucking burning after standing in heels all night. The last thing you wanted to do right now argued. But that didn’t stop Calvin from tearing into you as you tried your best to ignore him.

“You’re supposed to be my fucking girlfriend, (Y/N)”

You scoffed, tugging your heels off and tossing them aside, “I AM your girlfriend.” 

“Then fucking act like it”

You rolled your eyes, shoving past him to enter your shared bedroom, “Oh I’m sorry I wasn’t acting like the idealized version you have of me in your fucking head.” you shook your head, “Jesus you can be such a fucking prude sometimes.”

“No! Because you don’t want me doing anything!” you’re throat was already burning with the force of you shouting at him, “You have all these fucking rules and you don’t tell me until, WHOOPS– I’ve broken one! And then you get to be a self-entitled prick and act all disappointed in me?”

It was Calvin's turn to scoff as he followed you into the room, “ I’m a prude? Why because I don’t want you skinny dipping with other men?”

He stalked towards you, frustratingly less shaken than you were, “Okay.. You wanna know my rules?” he spoke to you like you were a child, “ Don't fuck other men. Don’t let other men think about fucking you.” 

“So now I’m responsible for what people think too?” 

He nodded as if you had asked him the dumbest question, “Yea. You are responsible. When you act a certain way, it leads people on.” he pauses, looking you up and down for a moment as if assessing you, “When you take your clothes off at a party, it makes people think you’re a slut.”  he licked his lips, pushing he glasses back up his nose and leaning forward to stand eye level with you, “So i’d really prefer it if you didn’t do that. Is that clear enough for you?” 

You saw red as soon as the words ‘slut’ passed from his lips. “Fuck you Calvin.” You huffed, shaking your head and shoving roughly past him to get to the closet, tearing off your dress hastily, “I’m not your child for fucks sake. You don’t get to decide what I do.” You shuffled through your closet, grabbing one of your sleep shirts to toss on. You just wanted to go to bed.

“Wanna bet?”

You spun around, “What?”

He wasn’t looking at you as he spoke, “I’m pretty sure I can make you do whatever  I want.” 

You scoffed, biting the inside of your cheek as you shook your head at him, “Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do Calvin? Tie me up?”Any other day the idea of Calvin tying you up and controlling you might have made you feel hot between your thighs, but tonight it wasn’t a flirtatious remark, and you both knew it.

He shifted a little, “No, I don’t have to.” he tilted his head at you, expression flat as he pushed past you to leave the room. You stood there angrily for a moment, wiping at the tears already streaming down your reddened cheeks before following after him to find him standing quietly in front of his desk, holding a stack of papers.

He stared at the stack of papers for a moment and then peered at you, setting them down on his desk and motioning for you to come closer. Slowly you did, brows furrowed in confusion, as you hoped he’d just pull you into a hug and apologize for being an asshole so the two of you could finally go back to normal. Instead, he tapped the stack of papers for a moment and slipped the top sheet off of the stack. Calvin didn’t say a word, just silently handed you a piece of paper and waited for you to read it. You looked at the paper and then back up at him, trying to understand what he wanted from you.

“Calvin can we please just go to bed and we can talk about this tomorrow…” you sighed, already losing whatever fight you had left in you. You were so sick of arguing with him. You missed the old Calvin and you were desperately clinging on to the hope that the two of you would eventually go back to being the happy couple you had once been.

“Read it.” 

Slowly you read the first few lines on the page and with every word you became more confused and angrier. Calvin was writing about you. 

You stared at the paper for what felt like hours before looking up to meet his gaze. Everything was so confusing. Why was Calvin writing about you? Did he think this was some sort of joke? He didn’t seem at all bothered by the tears already forming in your eyes. It was terrifying the way he just watched you, waiting for you to react. You felt anger rise in your belly, why was he acting like this wasn’t even a big deal. Did he not understand that you could end the relationship in an instant? Did he not even care? 

“Look at me when I’m fucking talking to you Calvin.” you crumpled the paper and tossed it at him, “You can’t fucking write about me…. That's…. That's fucking personal!” You moved to hit his chest again, yelping when he caught you by the wrist. He squeezed your wrists hard, but still refused to speak a single word to you. You tried to pull your arms out of his grasp, but he refused to budge.

You waved the paper in front of him wildly, “What the fuck is this Calvin?” he didn’t answer, just cocked his head at you and stared blankly, “You can’t write about me.” you shouted, shaking the paper again, and slamming your fists against his chest. Still, he refused to react.

“Calvin. I'm fucking serious are you even fucking listening to me?” your throat was already burning before you could scream and shout at him as much as you really wanted to. He rolled his eyes. He actually fucking rolled his eyes and sighed like you were the one being unreasonable. 

“Calvin… You’re hurting me…. Dammit, let me go.” you pushed against him, scrambling to catch yourself when he finally released you to sit in his desk chair.

“What the fuck is going on with you Calvin?” you hissed, massaging your wrists, they were sure to bruise. “Calvin can you just answer me,”

He looked up at you, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he tilted his jaw up at you exhaling heavily. “What do you want me to say, (Y/N)?” 

That was the final straw before you imploded, stomping out of the room to pack your things, “You know what fuck you, Calvin, you aren’t fucking worth it.” 

You shuffled through the house in a mad dash, grabbing your things and tossing them wildly into a bag as your vision blurred from the tears in your eyes. It didn’t even matter what you were grabbing at this point, you just needed to get the fuck out of here and as far away from Calvin as you possibly could. You had no idea what the fuck was going on with him lately but it scared you the way he seemed so fucking calm about the whole situation. He was writing about you. About things, you had never told him about and yet he somehow knew every single detail. It didn’t even fucking make any sense.

Scotty whimpered by the door, clearly distressed by the noise you were making moving around the house frantically. You passed the small dog, kneeling to kiss his head before entering Calvin’s office again, with your bag stuffed full and hanging off of your shoulder. Calvin remained exactly where you had left him, he didn’t even look up as you entered, he just stared at his typewriter.

“Calvin please.” you were crying now, hard enough to make your eyes burn and your chest ache. He began to type, you could barely see him through your tears but you could hear the click of each key locking into place. 

“Calvin,” you said voice trembling. He couldn’t even give you the common decency to end the relationship peacefully.

“Calvin,” you repeated a little louder, shaking your head when he still refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he pulled himself closer to his desk, fingers gliding over the keys of his typewriter.  

“Calvin?” you whimpered before you could stop yourself. You reached for the door again but it only made you feel dizzier until you crumbled to the floor with a sob. You looked up through teary eyes at Calvin as he stared over his typewriter, not daring to get up and help you. You tried not to think about the way he looked almost smug as he stared at you, it only seemed to make you feel worse.

You shook your head, “Have a good one Calvin…I’ll have someone come by and grab the rest of my stuff some other time.” you mumbled, not even really caring if he heard you at this point. He continued typing as you walked to the front door and didn’t stop until you were twisting the knob to open the door.

Suddenly you felt dizzy and you’re knees buckled under you causing you to lean against the door, wincing when your bag crashed to the floor. 

“Calvin please.” you sobbed, as he began to type again, light reflecting off his glasses and making his eyes impossible to see properly. 

“I told you I could make you do what I wanted,” he said lowly, voice barely above a whisper as he typed furiously. What was he even talking about? What was going on? Why were you even mad at him? Why were trying to leave? You couldn’t remember, trying to remember made your whole body ache. 

“Calvin please.” you cried, dragging yourself up slowly, letting out a broken sob when you felt an ache between your thighs, “Calvin… I don't…. I don’t know what's happening.” Why did you feel so hot all of the sudden? Why did you feel so dizzy? Why was Calvin writing while you were just 

laying there in agony? 

So many questions and each one only seemed to increase the ache between your thighs. You sobbed, curling your body forward into a ball on the floor.  You were so confused and you could still feel the anger lingering in the back of your mind but you just couldn’t reach it. 

“You were perfect (Y/N) why did you have to make me do this?” he asked softly as if he were speaking to a child. A tiny voice in your head begged you to tell him to fuck off but you couldn’t, the words got stuck in your throat, and instead, you whined for him. You needed him. You needed to apologize. You didn’t even know why you needed to apologize but it didn’t matter. You needed to make things right. It was like someone had gone in and rewritten your programming. 

“Calvin, please ��m sorry.” you whimpered, shaky hands reaching out towards him even though you were too far to reach him. 

He crooned at you, shaking his head as he shoved away from his desk, patting his thigh gently, “Come here (Y/N). Poor thing you can’t even understand what's happening.” you scrambled forward without hesitation, every fiber of your being begged to be closer to him despite the angry little voice in the back of your mind that seemed to grow quieter and quieter with every passing minute. He helped you gently onto his lap, situating you so you straddled one of his thighs as he pulled his chair back towards his desk.

“ ‘m sorry Calvin, ‘m sorry,” you repeated through broken sobs as you leaned heavily against him, whimpering when he moved his knee to grind between your thighs where you were aching to have him. 

“I know baby I know, It’s alright, I’m gonna fix everything okay,” he hummed softly, one hand caressing wrapped around your waist while the other moved to bring his typewriter closer so you could read what he had been typing.

You whined, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt nervously,” Come on baby read it for me.” he directed softly, his hand moving from his typewriter down to your thigh. He waited patiently, fingers gliding over your skin, carefully moving beneath the bunched-up fabric of the dress you were wearing until you could feel his fingers just barely grazing over your panties. He didn’t move any further, clearly waiting for you to do as he had instructed.

With a sob, you obeyed, leaning forward a bit to better read the words on the page through the haze of your confusion, “ (Y/N) couldn’t leave Calvin. She needed him. (Y/N) couldn’t remember why she had been so angry or why she had tried to leave, all she knew was that she needed Calvin. Every time she tried to remember why she was angry she would feel desperate for Calvin.” You paused, choking on a whimper as he slowly moved his hand past the waist back of your panties, “Calvin, please… I’m…I don’t know what's happening… this doesn’t… this doesn’t make sense.”

“Shhh baby I know just keep reading, I’ll explain it all once you finish and then I’ll make it all better okay.” He whispered, gently brushing your hair over your shoulder with his free hand to leave kisses along the nape of your neck.

You whined but couldn’t bring yourself to disobey, Calvin knows what's best for me, Calvin always knows what's best for me. Taking a shaky breath you began to read the paper again, “ All (Y/N) knows is that she needs Calvin and only Calvin can give her what she needs. Only Calvin could make her feel better.” You let out a broken sob as another wave of heat burned through your body making your thighs tremble and your hips buck desperately against Calvin’s hand.

“You’re so close baby, just a little more and I’ll make you feel better like I promised.” he crooned, sucking on your neck, leaving purple bruises in his wake, “You want to feel better, don’t you? You want me to make you feel good?” he asked sweetly, letting his finger just barely graze over your clit causing you to sob, fingers grasping desperately at his shirt, an effort to pull him closer. “You want me to fix this don’t you baby?”You nodded, whining breathlessly when he motioned for you to continue and moved his hand to graze over your clit again. 

“Only Calvin could make the ache stop. Every time (Y/N) tried to remember being angry at Calvin she would become consumed with desire, unable to think of anything other than how badly she wanted Calvin and how desperately she needed to cum. She belonged with Calvin. She belonged to Calvin.” Upon reading the last words on the page Calvin blessedly moved to rub his thumb gently over your clit, cooing praise when you bucked into his hand. 

“Do you remember when you asked me earlier why I was writing about you, do you remember that baby?” he whispered against your jaw. You shook your head, whimpering when he nipped at your neck, “come on baby, try to remember” he encouraged, smiling against your skin as you shook your head.

“Please… ‘m sorry Calvin.” you whimpered, bucking your hips against his hand to lessen the ache still burning between your thighs. He chuckled, kissing at a bruise he had sucked into your skin moments before.

“I can’t…. Calvin… Can’t re-remember… hurts” you said through broken sobs. He hummed, rubbing soothing circles over your side with his free hand while his other hand remained between your thighs, lazily thumbing at your clit.

“You need me to remind you, baby?” he whispered, kissing along your jaw and down your neck, nipping at the skin when you didn’t give him an answer immediately.

“It's alright baby,” he hummed, moving his free hand from your side up to cradle your jaw to get you to look at him. Even through the blur of your tears, you could see his green eyes were blown out and dark with something between madness and lust. It terrified you and yet you couldn’t look away nor could you stop yourself from leaning into his touch, kissing the palm of his hand as it cupped your cheek. 

He smiled, wiping tears from your cheeks with his thumb, “You asked me why I was writing about you… do you remember that baby?” You shook your head, wincing when it made your vision blur even more. He nodded, his hand stilling against your cunt to make sure you were completely focused on his words, “Well I wasn’t just writing about you baby.” he paused watching your expression closely as you blinked back at him. 

He leaned in a little closer, pressing a kiss to your other cheek, catching the taste of your tears on his lips as he whispered, “I wrote you.” You froze completely, like a dear in headlights, eyes wide and brows furrowed as you tried to understand what he was talking about.

“W-what… What are you talking about?” You ask through hiccups and sniffles.

“I wrote you baby.” he paused, smiling as he traced little shapes on your cheek with his thumb, “Everything you are. Everything you do. Everything you have. It's all because of me. Because that’s how I wrote you.” The voice in the back of your head comes back, Leave! Leave! Get away from him! You have to leave! Don’t let him do this! He can’t do this! He can’t get away with this! Leave! ESCAPE! 

He smiles as he watches you wince with the force of the aching in your head coming back as you try desperately to remember what was going on before Calvin pulled you onto his lap. God, you just wanted the aching and the burning to stop. You wanted the voice in your head to shut up. You didn’t care why you couldn’t remember, you just wanted the pain to stop. You wanted Calvin to help you. You needed Calvin to make everything better. The yelling in your head comes to halt. The silence is deafening and it makes you cling harder to Calvin for a moment.

You pull his hand from between your thighs before he can stop you. He grunts, lurching forward to grab you until he realizes you are twisting around in his lap to face him. You fall into his chest, fingers grasping desperately at his shirt to pull him as close as possible while you sob into his shoulder. He sits frozen, momentarily shocked by your actions. He had expected you to fight him again, yet here you were curled into his lap, crying pathetically and begging for him to fix her. 

“Calvin please… it hurts so bad… please… I want it to stop…” your words came out broken, lost between your sobs, “Please… please Cal….you…you promised… you promised you would make it better.” 

Calvin had a moment of clarity. He should put a stop to this. He should let you go. He shouldn’t do this to you. But how could he possibly say no when you’re begging him to make everything better. 

He wraps his arms around you carefully, “shh baby I got you… I’m gonna fix this okay.” you sobbed harder, nodding into his shoulder, “I'm gonna make you feel better, just like I promised don’t worry.” Thank you. Thank you. God. Thank you, you think desperately clinging to him like he’s a god damn lifeline. He moves to stand up suddenly, making you nearly jump out of your skin but he’s holding you close enough that you don’t fall back. He taps your thighs, and you bring your legs around his waist before he even needs to say the words. 

He hums, you can feel the vibrations of him speaking but you don't hear what he's saying, all you know is he’s holding you and he’s never letting you go, and he’s going to make you feel better. He shuffles away from his desk quickly and shoves his desk chair so hard that it spins backward, hitting the wall with a thump that makes you yelp,  fists curling tighter into his shirt. 

“Sorry baby,” he mumbles pressing a kiss into your hair. It’s okay, I forgive you, you think, just fix this. Fix me. You don’t even realize he’s taking you to the bedroom until he’s leaning forward to gently lay you onto the mattress. You whine as he pulls away, no don't go, stay, you promised you would make this better, your voice echos desperately in your head. 

“You have to let me go for a moment baby, I’m not gonna leave you, I just need you to let me go so I can make you feel better remember?” he hummed, breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. You whine again but allow him to pull away until he’s standing over you and you can barely see his face with the light behind him. 

Is this what salvation feels like?

You don’t have time to decide on an answer to your thoughts before his hands are on your thighs, tracing lines upwards until he’s got the hem of your skirt bunched up around your waist. You shift your legs to press into his touch, whining when he presses you back down into the bed.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers, leaning forward to press kisses to your thighs. You whimper but don’t argue. Calvin always knew what was best for you. He hums in approval, sucking little bruises into your thighs as he makes his way up towards your panties.

He clicks his tongue, “Oh poor thing you’re soaked.” he tugs at the band of your panties with one hand while the other moves to lift your hips to guide the fabric down your thighs. 

“Thank you,” you whine breathlessly.

“Lift your hips again honey,” he tells you, shuffling to swipe his pillow from his side of the bed. You do as he says without question, legs trembling as you let him place the pillow under your hips. He is back between your thighs before you even have to beg him, pressing kisses to your thighs again until he reaches your cunt. You sob and move to push your legs together the moment his lips ghost over your clit. 

“Come on baby, you gotta open your legs for me to make you feel better.” he croons, tracing little circles over your hips, humming in encouragement when you shakily spread your legs again. 

“There ya go, sweetheart,” he whispers against the apex of your thigh, “Just let me take care of you baby.” You don’t even have to say a word before his lips are back on you, tongue lapping at the slick pooling between your thighs.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

You aren’t even sure if you’ve said the words aloud but it doesn’t matter when Calvin’s got his face pressed into your cunt like it fucking belongs there. He presses one hand against your hip while the other guides your legs up and over his shoulder. 

It’s unfair how quickly Calvin unravels you. A simple swipe of his tongue over your clit and his hand slipping down to join his mouth between your thighs and your mind goes hazy. He doesn’t even have to try very hard to slip two fingers into you, groaning against your cunt when he feels you squeeze around his fingers. 

“Christ, baby you’re a mess,” he says it like it's a compliment, curling his fingers against that sweet spot inside you that makes you go all stupid for him. 

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” you’re positive you’re saying the words aloud this time, distantly you can hear the airy whine of your voice beneath the haze you’re practically drowning in.

“Please” you whimper through broken sobs, fists curled into the bedsheets and cheeks flushed red and dripping with tears. He lifts his head from between your thighs, chin shining with your slick, smiling lazily at you with his glasses askew and foggy.

“So good for me sweetheart, such a pretty, perfect, little thing you are” he praises, slowly slipping a third finger into your weeping cunt, chuckling when you try moving your hips. He’s slow and meticulous in taking you apart but you’re already so impossibly close to the edge it makes you sob with every delicious curl of his fingers.

He presses his fingers deeper, thumb tracing tight circles over your clit that make you pant for him, “Please what baby? Tell me what you want.” You look at him through wet lashes, tears blurring at the edge of your vision as he presses gentle kisses on your thighs, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin when you don’t answer him immediately. He grins when he feels you clench around his fingers. You shake your head, shifting your hips to try to get him to move a little faster. 

 “Don’t be a brat now pretty girl,” he says, stopping almost instantly just letting you clench pathetically around his fingers, thighs trembling as you keep trying to move your hips against his hand. He presses his free hand to your hip, holding you down against the pillow tucked beneath you. 

“Come on baby, all you have to do is tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” He curls his fingers inside you, letting his thumb graze over your clit briefly and grinning at the way you turn to putty in his hands.

“Please… Please ‘m so close.” 

He hums in approval but remains still, leaning down slightly to press a kiss just above your clit. 

“Please… please….ple- fuck… please make me come.” 

He smiles, doesn’t even give you a chance to repeat yourself before he’s fucking his fingers back into you, “Atta girl…  See that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t even tell if you’re nodding or shaking your head, distantly you think you can hear yourself agreeing with him. Calvin’s right. Calvin��s always right. Calvin knows what’s best. Calvin always knows best.

“I’ll make you feel good baby,” he promises.

And he does. He doesn’t even have to fight to pull you over the edge. He latches onto your clit and your mind goes blank. And before you know it you’re falling over the edge, crying out Calvin’s name in broken sobs as you clench around his fingers. He groans, lapping at your cunt as if he needs it to survive while he fucks you through your climax.

You’re a mess beneath him babbling incoherently and he fucking loves it. He loves that he’s the only one who’s ever gotten to see you like this. He doesn’t even notice he’s rocking his hips against the mattress desperately seeking the tight heat between your trembling thighs until he hears you whining for him.

“I..” you whine, fingers curling into his hair and tugging lightly, “I want– fuck, please… I want you Cal… please…” 

He can’t even bring himself to tell them to say exactly what they want as much. He wants to tease it out of you, make you beg and cry for him to he fucks you like you need him to. But he needs you just as much as you need him. 

He leaves one last kiss over your clit, slowly slipping his fingers out of you with a slick noise. He pushes up onto his knees, cock straining beneath his pants. You tug him upwards with more force than he expected, fingers already grasping desperately at the buttons of his shirt. 

“Please” you whine, fumbling with his shirt, tugging on it in frustration when your fingers slip on the buttons. Calvin shuffles closer and moves his hands to guide yours to finish unbuttoning his shirt. Once his shirt is tossed to the side, you lay still beneath him, shaky hands making their way up to his chest as you stare up at him with a dazed smile. 

“Calvin please… make me feel good,” you whisper like it's a prayer, a silent confession of your sins.

Mercifully he answers your prayers in an instant, pulling you into a heated kiss, groaning when your fingers tangle into his hair. One hand reaches up to cradle your head while the other fumbles with his belt until he can shove his pants down too hastily to his thighs. He doesn’t even bother taking them off fully, and even if he tried you probably wouldn’t let him pull away from you enough to succeed. 

It’s exactly easy for him to situate himself between your thighs when you refuse to let him go but he manages well enough, grunting when he presses forward and lets his cock glide against your clit. He slips his fingers between your legs again and guides his cock against your cunt until he’s as soaked as you are.   

“Please” 

He doesn’t even make you ask him again before he’s pressing the tip of cock into you with a long-drawn-out groan.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, fuc- thank you” you sigh, pulling him impossibly close until you start to forget where you end and he begins as he presses deeper. 

He bottoms out with a low whine, gripping your hips as he lays over you for a moment, lost in the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around him. 

“You’re so fucking perfect.” he groans, pressing bruising kisses along your jaw and down your neck, one hand moving from your hips to tug at your top, bunching it up at your collarbone as he sucks a few bruises onto your chest. You roll your hips up, crying softly when he pulls back until only the tip of his cock is pressing into you. 

He looks down at you through fogged-up glasses, breath catching in his throat at the little smile you give him. You look at him like he’s saved you, and he crumbles instantly, hips driving into you until all you can do is stare up at him through teary eyes, his name falling from your lips like it's something sacred.

“You’d be lost without me wouldn’t you?” he asks, one hand back on your hip while the other guides your legs around his waist. You whine, nodding frantically, unable to form any words that aren’t his name.

“Pretty girl” 

“Fucking perfect.”

“Such a needy little thing.”

“All for me.”

All you can do is desperately pull him closer, your cunt clenching around him with every slow drag of his cock pulling out and driving back into you. He pulls you into a dizzying kiss, his hands shifting between the two of you until his thumb meets your clit and you jolt against him with a sob. 

“You’re already so close aren’t you?” he hums, pressing so deep you swear you can feel his cock in your stomach, as his thumb rubs quick tight circles around your clit. 

Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please

“Go on sweet girl, come for me”

It takes barely a minute for you to fall apart all over again, tight cunt spasming around him as he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. Through the haze, you can hear yourself chanting his name, grasping desperately at his shoulders while continues driving cock relentlessly into you. 

You can’t even agree with him before you feel him reach his own release. You can feel every pulse and twitch of his cock, like a heartbeat as he spills himself inside of you, making a sound somewhere between a grunt and a whimper as he shakily rides out his orgasm.

“Fuck– you’re so fucking perfect, never gonna let you go.” he babbles, sucking more bruises into your skin as his hips stutter, “ ‘m gonna keep you all to myself, baby.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” He whispers as he collapses against you, cock still twitching inside your aching cunt. He repeats the apology quietly against your neck, and in your post-orgasm fog, you can’t tell if he’s asking himself or you for forgiveness.

But you offer it nonetheless, fingers carding through his hair as you whisper back, “It’s okay, Calvin, it’s okay.” 

He shakes his head but doesn’t say a word as you pull him up into a kiss, distantly you realize he’s crying and you wipe the tears gently with the pads of your thumb as he hums into the kiss. 

The two of you lay there for a while, his cum leaking from your cunt even with his cock still pressed inside of you, just holding one another as you both come down from your highs. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead as he pulls out, hissing softly when your cunt flutters around him as if trying to beckon him back into the tight wet heat. You whimper, feeling him brush against your clit as he pulls off of you.

“I’ll be right back baby,” he whispers, pressing a line of soft kisses down your body before standing slowly, kicking his pants off completely so he can shuffle off to the bathroom for a washcloth. 

You don’t move an inch until he comes back, and you offer him a little smile which he timidly returns, brows furrowed slightly as he takes in the sight of you laid out on the bed, covered in bruises, thighs already sticky with his cum. 

He’ll never let you go now, a broken voice echoes in your head, it doesn’t even sound like your own voice anymore but you can’t bring yourself to think about it too hard as Calvin gently cleans you up.

You thank him quietly as he helps you undress, tossing your clothes off to a random corner of the room and helping you stand up for a moment so he can quickly strip the top blanket off the bed tossing it along with your clothes to wash later. 

You lean against him, legs trembling far too much for you to stand fully on your own, and let him help you back into bed watching him as he cleans himself up before joining you in bed. He’s oddly quiet as he pulls you into his arms but you decide he’s just as dazed as you are.

“I love you, Calvin,” you mumble, curling up against him and pressing your face into his neck.

It takes him a moment to stutter out a response, words dying in his throat at first, “I love you too, baby”

“Promise you’ll always love me?” you smile, pressing a kiss to his neck.

You can hear Calvin’s breath stutter as he answers, “I Promise.” you hum, pleased with his answer as you nuzzle into his neck, finally closing your eyes and letting your mind drift into a dreamless sleep.

Calvin woke long before you the next morning, he had hardly slept, how could he after doing what he had done to you? Never again, he told himself as he carefully moved you off of his body, stilling each time you stirred in your sleep until he was sure you would not wake.

“I promise I’ll never stop loving you.” 

-----------

I’ll never hurt you like that ever again, he watched the rise and fall of your chest, tracing over the bruises decorating your skin like constellations. You seemed so at peace despite what he had put you through the night before. You had no idea that he had even done anything wrong. You were hopelessly devoted to him. 

He was your salvation.

He reached out, brushing his knuckles over your cheeks. You mumbled sleepily, turning to your side, tugging the blanket tighter around yourself. I’ll make things right, he promised you, silently making his way out of the room, patting Scotty on the head as he passed. 

Scotty’s tiny fluffy face looked up and despite being a dog, Calvin had the sneaking suspicion that Scotty was silently judging him for what he had done. You hurt her, Scotty tilted his head up at Calvin. I know, I know, I’ll fix it, Calvin sighed, watching as Scotty seemed to lose interest in him, padding off to the bedroom, where he would likely curl up at your feet. 

At least Scotty would never hurt you, he shuffled into his office and froze in the doorway for a moment, staring at the typewriter still sitting on his desk. He curled his fists at his sides until his palms burned with little crescent-shaped imprints from his fingernails. Just fix it, dammit. 

He moved closer, pulling his desk chair with him until he was standing in front of his desk, still staring at the typewriter as if it had personally wronged him. But it hadn’t, and he knew that. He knew that since the very moment he first started making changes to you. 

Almost.

It had started small, just little adjustments. He had told himself that he was doing it all for you. That he was doing it to make you happy and that he would never try to change you beyond that. He had repeated that lie to himself under the dim lighting of the desk lamp while making his edits to your very being that he almost started to believe he was doing the right thing.

Any belief that he had before of being a good person was gone now. It had faded away the moment the two of you had started arguing the night before and whatever had been left disappeared completely as you desperately clung to him, crying out his name like it was a god damn prayer.

He should feel sick thinking about how you cried underneath him, begging him to make the pain stop. But it doesn’t. And he can’t even find the will to hate himself for pushing you till you were trembling, unable to think of anything but him. 

Instead, he feels dizzy with power to the point that makes his head hurt. He sits and pulls his chair forward until his knees are tucked under the edge of his desk. His fingers ghost over the keys of his typewriter, I have to fix this. I should fix this and let her be free of me. 

He repeats the words he knows he should be typing like a mantra, Calvin could no longer control or change (Y/N). (Y/N) was free of Calvin. Free to live her life safe and happy far away from him. He wills himself to move, to type, to just get it over with already so he can keep his promise to her. But his fingers don’t move, there is no clicking of the keys locking into place and there are no words written on the paper. 

He exhales, reaching up to rub his eyes and brush his hands through his hair until he’s tugging at his scalp in punishment. Just fucking let her go. If you really loved her you would let her leave and you would have never tried to change her in the first place. 

I do love her.

Then why can’t you let her go? Calvin huffs kicking his desk, slamming his fists down onto the surface. He stares at the paper, still blank, staring back at him in silent judgment. You promised. You promised you would fix everything. 

“I know. I will. I’ll fix this.” he whispers bitterly to himself, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Liar.

He bites the inside of his cheek, placing his hands back over the keys of his typewriter. With a shaky inhale he begins to type, the sound of the keys clicking fills the room until it's all he can hear. But the words he types are not the ones he knows he should be reading as they form across the page. 

Instead, he did what he did best. He told a story to make you believe that he was still a good person. To make you believe you still loved him. He spun pretty words into a tall tale about you had both come home the night before and had a civil discussion after the party. It was a lie of course, but you would never know that. It would be the truth to you, and that's all that mattered.

You would never know what he had done to you. You would simply remember coming home, arguing briefly, having a long discussion with Calvin that ended in sex after he apologized for being unreasonable and you apologized for making a scene at the party. He scrapped the bits of the fight that didn’t fit into the narrative he needed you to believe. You would never even know he had called you a slut or that you had threatened to leave. Because in your mind it had never happened. 

He told himself as he typed feverishly that he’d make everything better and then he’d never try to rewrite you again. Even as he made it every possible chance to make sure you would remain his perfect girl, he kept repeating to himself that he was doing the right thing.

This is the last time, he promises himself as he pulls the paper from his typewriter, rereading the lies he had written. The lies that would become your truths. He decided it was best to let you believe the lies as he tucked the papers back into his desk, where they would never see the light of day.

I’ll let her go next time.

And he almost believes his lie when he spins around in his chair to find you standing in the doorway in nothing but his shirt. 

“Calvin?” you mumbled, rubbing sleepily at your eyes, “What are you doing up?” 

He freezes for a moment like he's been caught in the act. But he hasn’t been caught. He knows he hasn’t the moment you give him a sleepy little smile and pad over to him to curl into his lap.

He just laughs and holds you close, “I’m sorry baby, should I have Scotty arrested for such horrible crimes?” 

“I just had to take Scotty out a little bit ago and I had this idea I wanted to get down before I forgot.” he pauses, to comb his fingers through your hair, smiling at the way you lean into his touch, “I didn’t wake you did I?”

You shake your head, pressing your face into his neck, “I woke up because Scotty was licking my feet.” you admit giggling when you both hear Scotty come scampering into the office. He should hate himself for how easy it is to lie to you and pretend everything was normal. But he doesn’t hate himself, he doesn’t even try. 

You giggle and shake your head, pulling away just enough that you can look at him, “Did you manage to get the idea down?” 

He shakes his head, “Nope, I’ve been sitting here for a while trying to remember the idea.” He doesn’t even need to think about it anymore when he’s lying to you. 

You hum, moving to rest your hands on his chest, “You know I hear spending a day in bed helps with brainstorming.” 

Calvin snorts, raising a brow at you, “Oh really? Where’d you hear that?” 

You shrug, a cheeky grin already forming on your lips  “Can’t remember.” 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Any more advice you got for me, baby?” 

You hum in approval at the pet name, turning to catch his lips in a quick kiss before he can pull away, “ Yea I heard it's especially helpful for writers to spend a day in bed with their super cute girlfriend.” He laughs, pressing another kiss to your lips, and then along your jaw.

“That sounds like good advice to me,” he mumbles, before nipping at the underside of your jaw, grinning when you let out an airy sigh. 

“I know right, whoever came up with it is a total genius.” He nips at your neck, this time a little harder and you laugh between a gasp.

“Cal comes on at least take me to bed first, we gotta figure out if my advice actually works” You shove playfully at his chest until he pulls away from your neck with his glasses sitting at an odd angle. You shuffle off of his lap and he follows quickly, rolling his eyes at the smug look you give him.

I did the right thing, he decides as he lunges forward, throwing you over his shoulder and grinning when you squeal in surprise and slap playfully at his back. 

Besides, who were you without Calvin?

#calvin weir fields #ruby sparks #calvin weir fields x reader #calvin weir fields x you #this ones dedicated to danonation #justcallmeangel fic tag #nsft fic #minors dni #fanfic #danonation

[just-call-me-angel]

Little Miss Loser

Chapter 4 - Ice Cream Is 4 Losers

Warnings: Richard Hoover is a shit head

Author's Note: Writing this chapter was so much fun, I love having the reader absolutely tear Richard to shreds. I am president of the Anti-Richard club, fuck that guy and everything he stands for. Anyways hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Summary: Listen man harassing Richard, getting bitches, and making Dwayne question his choice of friends is a full-time job, and frankly you're not being paid enough but that sure as hell won't stop you

Ao3

Chapters: ||1||2||3||4||5||6||7

The diner was quiet as you stepped in, only a few people littered the dining area, and most seemed content to be left alone. A waitress greeted you all with a sweet smile, motioning for you to follow her as she directed everyone to a small booth. At Olive’s insistence, you sat next to her with Dwayne on your other side, followed by Frank and Granpa Edwin while Sheryl and Richard sat on the other side of Olive. It was a bit of a tight squeeze but you managed well enough, grinning every time you bumped elbows with Dwayne as you looked at the menu. Olive leaned against you, kicking her feet excitedly as she read the menu, giggling every time you leaned over to poke her cheek.

“Mom, how much can we spend?” Olive asked, tilting her head at her mother.

Sheryl thought for a moment, “Hm I’d say four dollars.” she decided, turning to look at the rest of the table to make sure they heard her, ”Anything under four dollars” Olive hummed, turning back to her menu again, grinning when you leaned over her shoulder to point at something on her menu.

“Oooh Oli.” you crooned, poking her side, “They have waffles.” you grinned excitedly as she clapped her hands, looking to where you had pointed on the menu. Beside you, Dwayne was quietly reading his menu and now that you were more awake you were ready to get back to your usual routine of annoying the fuck out of him. He sighed heavily as you leaned on his shoulder, pointing randomly at his menu, with no particular rhyme or reason. Dwayne was used to you annoying him, and in the time you had been friends he had become a master at ignoring you, only ever offering you a bored expression and an occasional smug smile when you inevitably got annoyed that he wasn’t reacting.

The waitress returned within a few minutes, “You folks ready to order?”

Richard was the first to order, “Uh yeah... I’ll get a number five,” he paused, folding his menu and passing it to the waitress, “, and a Coffee.” The waitress nodded, quickly writing it down on her little notepad before directing her attention to Sheryl.

“A number seven, over easy with Grapefruit juice please” Sherly smiled, carefully passing her menu to the waitress.

Frank was the next to speak up, “Can I get the fruit plate, and do you have Chamomile?” the waitress nodded,” Perfect I’ll get a Chamomile tea with honey.”

“I’ll have the Lumberjack and a coffee. Extra bacon please.” Grandpa Edwin said, offering a smile to the waitress.

“Dad…” Richard mumbled

Sheryl huffed and shook her head, “Richard don’t start.”

“He’s gonna kill himself,” Richard argued, shoulders falling in defeat as his wife gave him a stern look.

“It’s his life,” Sheryl replied with a shrug, reaching over to fix Olive’s hair a bit.

“Death by bacon… what a way to go,” you mumbled quietly, grinning at the defeated look Richard had on his face while Dwayne laughed under his breath next to you.

Edwin smiled smugly. “Thank you, Sheryl.”

Dwayne held up his notepad for the waitress to read. “Garden Salad?” she repeated, smiling when Dwayne gave her an affirming nod before turning to look at you.

You glanced briefly at your menu before humming, “I’ll just have waffles with a sweet iced tea please.”

The waitress nodded and turned to Olive, “And for you?”

Olive froze next to you, nervously pushing her glasses up, “Oh! Umm…sorry! I'm sorry!” The waitress smiled and shook her head telling Olive to take her time as you reached over to help Olive read through the menu again.

“Don’t apologize Olive. It's a sign of weakness.” Richard says earning a sharp kick to his leg from his wife and glares from everyone else at the table. Olive shifted anxiously looking at you for a moment before finally looking back at the waitress.

“Oh! Oh! I’ll have waffles too!” she said finally, beaming when you gave her a thumbs up, “and Ummm what does A La Modee mean?”

“It means it comes with ice cream” the waitress laughed.

“Okay! I’ll have A La Mod-ee!” Olive exclaimed, earning another laugh from the waitress.

Sheryl smiled at her daughter, “Olive? For Breakfast?”

Olive shrugged, passing her menu to the waitress, “You said four dollars.” she said matter of factly. With a grin, you raised your hand to get the waitress's attention before she walked away.

“Can I get my waffles A La Mod-ee as well?” you asked, making sure you pronounced it the same way Olive had.

“I’ll have everything ready for you in no time.” the waitress said, spinning on her heel and heading back to the kitchens. Olive leaned over against you again, giggling when you poked her side playfully.

“Actually Olive.” Frank said with a small smile, “ A La Mode means In the fashion .” he paused, smile growing wider when he noticed Olive hanging onto his every word, “ A… La… Mode. Mode is derived from the Latin Modus meaning, due or proper measure “ you found yourself just as enamored by Frank’s explanation as Olive did. Even Dwayne had a small smile on his face as he listened to his Uncle.

Frank laughed a bit, “Actually there’s a funny story about-”

Richard coughed loudly, “ Frank? Shut up” You turned immediately to look at him, already preparing to give him the stink eye for interrupting Frank.

“Richard!” Sheryl exclaimed, receiving a shrug from Frank while Richard turned to look at Olive, ignoring his wife’s clear frustration.

“Olive let me tell you something about ice cream” Richard barely waits for Olive’s hesitant nod, “Ice cream is made from cream, which comes from cows' milk. And cream has a lot of fat in it-”

“Richard!” Sheryl exhaled, glaring at her husband with enough force you almost expected his head to burst into flames.

“What? She’s gonna find out anyway.” Richard replied with a smug look. God, he was such a dick. Y ou wondered what would happen if you just reached over and slapped him.

Olive looked around, clearly confused, “Find out what?” You stared at Richard as if willing him not to say what you thought he was going to say. Your prayers were of course ignored as he dove into a very poor explanation of how Ice Cream would make Olive fat. It made your blood boil and you could feel Dwayne shifting beside you, fists already clenched at his sides as he glared at his stepfather.

Poor Olive looks around again, still confused and clearly a bit distressed, “What… Mom I don't…. I don't understand… Why is everyone so upset?”

Sheryl sighed, glaring at her husband before looking back at her daughter with a kind smile, brushing loose hairs out of Olive’s face as she spoke, “No one’s upset with you sweetie… I just want you to understand: its okay to be skinny, and its okay to be fat, as long as you’re happy it's okay”

Beside her, Richard rolls his eyes “Okay but Olive let me ask you this… Are those women in Miss America skinny or are they fat?” Dwayne shifted again next to you, clearly prepared to lunge over the table if Richard said another word. You weren’t sure if you even stop him if he did or if you’d join him at this point.

Olive pouted, shoulders falling in defeat, “They’re skinny I guess.”

Richard shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the way his daughter looked close to tears, “I guess they probably don’t eat that much ice cream huh”  Dwayne huffed beside you and you moved a hand to rest on top of his clenched fists, tracing circles over the back of his hand before turning to glare at Richard.

“Dude shut up.” you say without thinking, feeling a bit proud of yourself when Richard stares back at you, clearly shocked by your words. Richard doesn’t even have time to react before the waitress is back at the table passing around various dishes and setting two bowls of ice cream and waffles in front of you and Olive. Olive doesn’t even look up when the waitress tries to make her laugh by saying A La Mod-ee. She stares at the ice cream in front of her for a while before she pushes it to the center of the table.

“Does… Does anyone want my ice cream?” she asks meekly. Sheryl shakes her head and closes her eyes, refusing to look at her husband as he drinks his coffee.

Grandpa Edwin is the first to speak up, quickly grabbing a spoon and reaching across the table, “Yeah! I’ll have a bite! Dwayne? Frank?” Dwayne and Frank immediately sit up straight, shuffling to grab spoons while you sit beside them, leaning a little closer to Olive as she crosses her arms and brings her knees to her chest.

“You mind if I have a little?” Frank asks. Olive shakes her head and shrugs, leaning against your side. Without missing a beat everyone begins to dig in, even Sheryl picks up a spoon to grab a small spoonful of Icecream. Richard watches unamused. Dwayne leans over your shoulder, forcing you a bit closer to Olive as he takes a large spoonful of ice cream and shoves it into his mouth with an exaggerated hum of approval. Everyone makes a big show of talking about how good the ice cream is to make Olive smile.

You pull your own bowl of icecream closer, playfully waving your spoon in front of Olive, tapping her nose gently with the end making her giggle a bit, “Come on Oli, you’re gonna have lonely waffles in your stomach without the Ice cream.” the group hums in agreement.

Olive finally breaks, reaching for her spoon to swat at everyone’s hands as she pulls her bowl towards her, “No! Don't eat it all! Stop!” You giggle as Dwayne half-heartedly tries to take another spoonful. She dives in, grinning as soon as she takes a bite of the ice cream.

“Olive-” Richard is cut off as Sheryl, swats his arm glaring fiercely at him until he slumps back into his seat. Beside you Dwayne opens his straw, and blows the wrapper towards Richard, hitting him in the forehead. You laugh, doing the same with your own straw, watching as the wrapper hits Richard in the cheek. He doesn’t say a word, he just sighs and leans forward taking a long drink from his coffee.

For a while everyone just eats their food in relative silence, only interrupted by Olive’s laughter when you whispered a joke to her or you swatting at Dwayne’s hand whenever you caught him stealing some of your food.

Frank is the first to fill the silence again, “So (Y/N) you and Dwayne have been friends for how long now?”

You stared blankly for a moment trying to do the mental math before finally grinning, “Hm I’d say 5 years now?”  You looked to Dwayne for confirmation and he nodded quietly.

“What do you two usually like to do for fun?” Frank asks directing the question at you even though he keeps glancing at Dwayne with a smile that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You shrugged the thought off, throwing your arms over Dwayne’s shoulders in a very awkward side hug.

Dwayne grumbled a bit but made no move to push you off as you spoke, “ Oh you know, the usual teenager stuff.” you glanced for a moment at Richard who you could tell was already gearing up to scold you and Dwayne for being too close. You grinned at looking back at Frank, lowering your voice to ensure Olive wouldn’t hear you if she wasn’t paying attention, “Mainly smoking tons of pot, disrespecting any authority figure and of course hooking up with strangers constantly.” Dwayne froze next to you, face immediately going bright red while Grandpa Edwin and Frank immediately began laughing. Even Sheryl found it a bit funny, stifling a laugh. Richard however looked ready to explode, face going a bit purple as his eyes widened at you. You could swear you could see smoke coming out of his ears at this point.

You snorted, feeling incredibly smug about being able to get on Richard’s nerves so easily, “Calm down Mr. H, It's just a joke.” Sheryl shook her head, laughing softly as she rubbed Richard’s arms in a half-hearted attempt at getting him to calm down.

“I don’t find your jokes very funny,” Richard grumbled, earning an eye roll from his wife while you simply shrugged, smirking at him.

“Get a better sense of humor then?” you retorted, earning a loud bark of laughter from Grandpa Edwin. Even Sheryl couldn’t help but laugh a little, stopping only when Richard narrowed his eyes at her. He sat for a moment still fuming and breathing heavily but refused to say another word to you, instead he stood up abruptly, shoving his wallet onto the table in front of his wife.

“I’m going to try and call Stan again, I’ll be outside while everyone finishes eating” Richard huffed, not even giving his wife a chance to say a word before he was shuffling out of the booth and heading to the door.  Had it been anyone other than Richard you might have felt a bit bad for harassing him. Beside you, Dwayne was smiling to himself, clearly amused by his stepfather's frustration. Sheryl shook her head and watched him walk out the door while Olive looked up from her waffles confused as to why her father had just stomped out of the restaurant suddenly.

“Why’s dad going outside?” She asked between bites of her waffles.

Sheryl sighed and shrugged, motioning for Olive to keep eating, “Your Dad just had something important to take care of that's all, don't worry about it too much, and eat your food sweetheart.”

“Sorry Mrs. H,” you offered in apology, despite not really feeling all that bad about having put Richard in a bad mood.

Sheryl shook her head at you and smiled, “Don’t worry about it hun, he’ll get over it by the time we get back on the road, you know how he is.” she didn’t seem at all angry with you for the way you had spoken to her husband, nor did she seem annoyed by your manner of joking with Frank.

You smiled cheekily, “it was pretty funny though wasn’t it?” Sheryl stifled a laugh but nodded, “I swear to god he had steam coming from his ears.” you joked, making a face to imitate the scowl Richard had worn moments before. Sheryl chuckled and shook her head, taking a sip of her grapefruit and then motioning for you to continue eating.

“No Sheryl I think (Y/N)’s right, maybe Richard should get that checked out?” Frank offered, barely hiding his smug grin behind his mug of tea, “Can’t be healthy to have smoke coming out of your ears.” you beamed at him, thrilled to have someone equally as keen on harassing Richard as you were.

“Okay okay very funny you two.” Sheryl chuckled, “I believe you still need to answer Frank’s question from earlier.” You shrugged, cheeks burning a bit from the effort it took to stop from smiling so much.

“Well, besides the usual teenager stuff I mentioned before, we usually watch movies, sometimes we trade book recommendations..” you paused thinking for a moment with a smile, “We go to Tingley beach to hang out too sometimes.” Dwayne shifts next to you, slipping a straw wrapper off of the table and fiddling with it while you continue chatting with his uncle.

“Tingley Beach?” Frank asks quietly

You nod, glancing over at Dwayne for a moment, watching as he folds the wrapper carefully between his fingers as if making something. You watch him for a moment trying to figure out what he’s making but it's hard to see as he shifts the paper under the table away from your line of sight.

“Yea, it's uh this little beach along the Rio Grande… Dwayne and I could take you with us next time we go if you want.” you offered, ignoring the look Dwayne gave you You knew why he was giving you a look, he was making sure you knew not to tell his family about your secret spot on Tingley beach.

The spot wasn’t all that special, at a glance, it was just a little cliff that overlooked the Rio Grande river, but it was special to you. Dwayne had found the spot long before ever meeting you and had brought you there for the first time a few months into knowing him. That was the moment you realized you had managed to weasel your way into his life and from then on the spot became like your secret hideaway. When one of you was feeling down and needed a place to think away from the noise of the rest of the world that was the place you went.

The last time you had been to your little haven had been a few weeks ago, just after finding out your parents were moving forward with a very messy divorce. You had gotten into a pretty bad fight with your mom and had pretty much disappeared. Your father had tried to run after you at first, but eventually, he wound up at the Hoovers asking if Dwayne could help him find you.

Dwayne of course knew exactly where you would be and found you not long after sitting cross-legged at the edge of the cliff, staring at the rushing water below. He sat with you for nearly two hours before you were ready to go home and in the end you wound up sleeping at his house after letting your parents know you were safe. You had a lot of special moments on that little cliff with Dwayne and you were more than content to make sure the spot remained a secret between the two of you.

“If you don’t mind that would be great,” Frank replied.

“Oh! Can I come too?” Olive chirped next to you, chin a bit sticky from the ice cream that had dripped from her spoon as she ate. You hummed softly and pressed your index finger to your chin as if you were deep in thought.

“Hmmm I don’t know Oli… are you sure you’re tough enough to adventure with us big kids?” you teased, grinning at the way she nodded frantically.

“Yea! I'm super tough! Tougher than Dwayne even!” she exclaimed. You hummed again, thinking for a moment before lurching forward to pull her into a hug, tickling her sides. Her mom watched you with a smile and a shake of her head as Olive giggled in your arms.

Beside you, Dwayne smiled to himself glancing occasionally at you as you laughed with his sister. He continued to fiddle with the strip of paper until he was content that it wouldn’t unfold. He lifted it slightly, enough that he could examine the tiny ring he had managed to make. He looked to you and then at the ring as if trying to decide whether or not he wanted to show it to you while everyone else was distracted by Olive’s laughter. Frank looked at him, raising a brow as if he knew exactly what Dwayne was thinking. He exhaled, a bit embarrassed at having been caught staring at you with a little paper ring in his hand.

“You hear that Dwayne?” You asked, suddenly turning to face Dwayne, still holding Olive tightly in your arms as her laughter began to die down a bit. Dwayne jumped a bit, quickly shoving the paper in his pocket before you could see it.

“Oli thinks she's tougher than you.” you teased, poking his side a bit to make sure he was listening.

Olive nodded, leaning over your lap to look at her brother with a huge grin on her face, “I am! I’m waaaaaaaay stronger than you.”  Dwayne fought the smile tugging at his lips as he tried to maintain his usual bored expression.

“I don’t know Oli… Your brother’s pretty tough,” you said, giving Dwayne a smug little grin.

“Nuh-uh!” Olive whined, tugging on your arm.

“It's the truth Oli,” you said with a shrug, taking one last sip of your drink before pushing it to the center of the table.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yes-huh”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yes-huh”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yes–”

“Alright, you two that's enough come on, we’ve gotta get back on the road now, let's wrap this up,” Sheryl said finally interrupting the bickering between you and Olive, a smile tugging on her lips even as she tried to remain stern.

“She started it.” you shrugged.

“Nuh-uh!! You started it!” Olive whined next to you, pouting when you poked her side and stuck your tongue out at her. Sheryl rolled her eyes, stifling a laugh.

“Well how about you all start heading to the car while I pay?” she instructed, smiling when she received a nod from everyone at the table. You saluted her with a playful grin as she turned and walked toward the counter.

Everyone began shuffling out of their seats, cleaning up the table a bit so it wasn’t as much work for the waitress, you nudged Dwayne, whispering to him so no one else would hear, “Don’t worry, the cliff is still just ours.” he smiled almost immediately, nodding quietly as you reached out and squeezed one of his hands gently.

Sheryl stood at the door waiting patiently, holding the door open as you all shuffled out of the building offering a polite ‘thanks’ to the waitress as you left. You and Dwayne walked behind everyone else, bumping shoulders until Olive shoved her way between the two of you, pulling both of you to hold her hands. You smiled at Dwayne and he shrugged, while Olive giggled each time you and Dwayne swung your arms to lift her off the ground as you walked.

As you and Dwayne lifted Olive into the car she squealed jumping into her set next to Frank and then spun around to look at you with a big grin on her face. “I’m still tougher than you and Dwayne,” she exclaimed earning a loud laugh from you as Dwayne rolled his eyes and helped you into the backseat, hand ghosting over your lower back to make sure you didn’t fall.

#little miss sunshine fic #dwayne hoover little miss sunshine #little miss sunshine #justcallmeangel fic tag #dwayne hoover fanfic #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover x you #dwayne hoover #fanfic

[just-call-me-angel]

Little Miss Loser

Chapter 2 - The Adventure Begins

Warnings: Grandpa Edwin being a general menace to society, brief mention of drugs, Dwayne has no bitches???

Author's Note: I fucking love writing Grandpa Edwin, hes so fucking hysterical. The entire time I was writing this scene i had the image of the grandpa saying "No Bitches?"

Summary: Grandpa Edwin offers some important advice

Ao3

Chapters: ||1||2||3||4||5||6||7

Your morning begins early and with a groan you pull yourself out of bed to get ready to head next door for the Hoover road trip. You change quickly, tugging on a pair of shorts and an old white shirt with Fredrick Neitchze printed on the front (You had borrowed it from Dwayne a few months back and he had yet to ask for it back). You shuffled around the room making sure you had everything you needed for the weekend, tossing a few things you had forgotten into the little brown duffel bag you had packed until finally you decided you were ready to leave. With a huff you picked the duffel bag up and left your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click before making your way through the rest of your house. It was the weekend so your parents were home though neither of them were awake yet. You left your bag at the front door sighing when you noticed your dad asleep on the couch. It wasn’t the first time you had found him asleep in the living room nor would it be the last, at least until the divorce was finalized and he moved out of course. Quietly you shuffled around the furniture, kneeling in front of the couch to poke your dads sleeping face, laughing a little when he jolted awake.

“Wha–” he looked around confused, eyes unfocused and still heavy with sleep.

“Dad it's me.” you laughed softly, placing a hand over his until he stilled and looked back at you, a small tired smile slowly spreading over his face. You smiled back as he reached out to ruffle your hair.

“What are you doing up so early kiddo?” he asked, words slurring together in a sleepy drawl.

“I’m going on a road trip with the Hoovers, remember.” you replied as you moved to grab his glasses off of the coffee table. He thanked you quietly and pushed the glasses onto his face, squinting for a moment until his eyes adjusted.

“Oh thas right. Forgot your mom told me about that when I got home last night.” he ran a hand through his dark hair, now speckled with gray. You nodded and tilted your head up at him with a frown.

“You and mom argue again?” you asked softly and watched the way his shoulders slumped and his brow furrowed.

“Nothing escapes your notice huh kiddo.” he said, attempting a laugh, “I hope we didn’t keep you up last night.”

“I was asleep before you got home. You just look like mom gave you shit last night.” You replied with a shake of your head.

He snorted and attempted to give you a stern look, “Your mother will give me more hell if she finds out I let you curse like that.”

You shrugged and laughed with him, glad to see the tension leave his shoulders even just for a moment, “I won’t tell her if you don’t.” you joked and he beamed at you, leaning over slowly to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Atta girl. I knew I taught you well.” he praised, “I suppose you gotta head out soon then?”

You nodded silently and he mirrored your actions, turning to glance over his shoulder at the closed door of the master bedroom where your mom was likely sleeping. “You should say goodbye to her before you leave.” he told you quietly.

“I know.” you huff, crossing your arms and biting at the inside of your cheek. He sighs and ruffles your hair again with a smile.

“Ya know what, you just head over to the Hoover’s I’ll deal with your mom alright, I’ll tell her you had to rush out the door,” he promises with a wink, smiling widely when you look up at him again.

“You don’t have to do that dad.” you whisper and he shakes his head stubbornly.

“Don’t worry about it kiddo, she’d only give you a hard time before you leave and I want you to have fun with the Hoovers.” he pauses then a sad smile playing on his lips, “Lord knows you need some normality in your life with the divorce going on right now.” You move to give his hand a gentle squeeze and give him a cheeky grin.

“The Hoovers are the least normal family out there dad.” you tease and he chuckles, squeezing your hand back.

“I suppose that’s true but that only means you’ll have tons of crazy stories to tell me when you get back.” he replies, pinching your cheeks softly before you can swat his hands away. He pulls you up off the floor with a grunt and brings you into his arms for a hug,

“I love you kiddo, I want you to have a good weekend alright, try not to worry about this shit at home alright.” he whispered, holding you tighter. You nodded against his shoulder and squeezed him back.

“I love you too dad…. I’ll try.” you mumbled into his old t-shirt, “I’ll uh bring you back a cool rock from the beach or something.” you promised softly, grinning when you felt his laugh rumble through his chest. Slowly he let you stand up, pressing another kiss to your forehead before he brushed your hair out of your face.

As you were preparing to grab your bag and leave he stood up and shuffled around. “Wait one minute.” you turned and watched as he searched for something until finally he spotted his wallet and picked it up tugging a couple dollars from it. He handed them to you with a smile, “Don’t spend it all in one place.” he teased and you shook your head, poking your tongue out at him.

“I’m gonna get so many drugs with this dad just you wait.” you joked, shoving the wad of cash into your pocket not worrying about how much or how little he had given you.

“Just don’t tell your mother.” he replied with a chuckle and you made a motion to zip your lips, lock them and throw away the key. He shook his head at your action and opened the door for you, watching as you quietly picked up your duffle bag.

“See you later kiddo.” he said finally as you stood on the front steps and smiled back at him with a nod.

“See ya Dad.” you mocked a salute and spun on your heel, dramatically marching across the front lawn over to the Hoover’s home next door, grinning to yourself when you heard your dads bark of laughter behind you.

You set your bag on the front steps in front of the Hoover home and knocked loudly on the front door until you heard shuffling around inside and finally the door opened to show Olive staring up at you with a big grin. She barely gave you a chance to enter the house before she was jumping to give you a hug, chanting excitedly about the Little MIss Sunshine Pageant. You laughed and hugged her tightly until Mrs Hoover entered the hall and beckoned Olive away.

“Olive, go tell your brother that Y/N is here and make sure you have all your stuff, your dad wants to get on the road soon.” Sheryl spoke softly, smiling at her daughter's excitement. Olive gave you one final hug before finally releasing you and barreling down the hall.

“DWAYNE YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS HERE!” she shouted as she ran past Dwayne’s room before diving into her own room with a giggle. Sheryl laughed and shook her head before giving you a quick hug.

“I'm glad you could come with us on this trip.” she said before letting you go. “You have your bag packed and everything I assume.”

You nodded and motioned towards your duffle bag that you had left at the front door and she nodded back, “Perfect, I made eggs if you wanted to have some before we left.” she tells you, motioning towards the kitchen table. She gives your shoulder a pat and moves back through the house, presumably to finish her own packing. You take a small plate of eggs and sit down quietly at the table to eat until Dwayne finally shuffles out of his room, a little smile forming when he sees you.

You smile and wave at him,” You ready for the adventure of a lifetime?” you tease and he rolls his eyes, tossing his own duffle bag next to yours before he sits next to you and swipes your fork out of your hand. You laugh as he steals a few bites of your breakfast, playfully shoving his arm when you realize he had finished what was left on the plate.

“Dick head” you tell him with a pout as he shrugs at you with a smirk tugging at his lips. You shove him again, laughing when he grunts at the feeling of your elbow pressing into his side. Frank enters the room quietly again wearing all white and sits across from you and Dwayne, smiling politely when you look up at him.

“What about you?” you repeat, turning to Frank with your question “Are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime?”

Frank snorts, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You laugh with Frank as he plates up his own small breakfast while Dwayne stares at you for a moment. Finally he pulls out his notepad and quickly writes something down before tapping you on the shoulder.

“Isn’t that my shirt?”

You grin almost instantly as you look down at your shirt and then back up at him, “what this old thing?” You ask feigning innocence. He gives you a pointed look and shakes his head at your antics.

“Oh come on, I’ve had it for months, I can basically claim legal ownership at this point.” Your reasoning only serves to make him roll his eyes and make Frank laugh across the table. You take a minute to look at the shirt Dwayne is wearing, grinning when you read the words Jesus Was Wrong and you quickly decide that its the next shirt you���re going to swipe from under his nose.

“You really are best friends huh?” he asks, earning a nod from both of you, “How does that work with him not talking?”

You grin cheekily and shug, “Oh its actually pretty easy, I like the sound of my own voice so it works pretty well that I do most of the talking.” Frank snorts, clearly amused by your response. It doesn’t take much longer for the rest of the family to enter the room, rushing to eat breakfast under Richard’s instruction so they could finally get out on the road. You caught Dwayne sneaking glances at you every few moments, his cheeks flushing red when his eyes would meet yours.

If daily life around the Hoover family was hectic then preparing for a roadtrip with them was in a whole other league. It was pure chaos as everyone scrambled to the car, shoving suitcases into the trunk and climbing over one another to get into the bus. After much arguing about seating arrangements you wound up sitting in the back with Dwayne next to you and his grandfather Edwin on the other side of him while Olive and Frank took the middle row of seats and Sheryl sat in the passenger seat and Richard drove. It wasn’t as cramped as you had expected but that didn’t seem to stop Dwayne from sitting as close as he could to you which you didn’t really mind if you were completely honest. In fact it gave you the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder for most of the ride and he seemed content to rest his head on yours, watching as you doodled in his notebook, occasionally smiling a little when you proudly pointed at something particularly amusing that you had drawn.

Blessedly despite the chaos that had ensued while trying to board the bus, everyone seemed far too tired to fill the trip with idle chatter. Occasionally Olive would lean over her seat to tell you how excited she was and you would smile back acting as if it wasn’t the third time in the last hour that she had said those words to you. Edwin Hoover however did not seem as content as the rest of the family to maintain the silence in the car.

“Jesus Im tired” he huffs, “I am so fucking tired” You stifle a laugh watching as he taps Dwayne’s shoulder to get his attention. Dwayne doesn’t move away from you or really make any attempt to show he’s paying much attention to his grandfather.

“You know how tired I am?” he asks, barely waiting a second for Dwayne to reply before he continues, “ If some girl, came up to me… begged me to fuck her… I wouldn’t be able to do it. That's how tired I am.” this time you don’t bother to hide the quiet laughter that bubbles from your chest, especially when Richard coughed nervously in the front seat.

“Dad! Language… Please” he asked, staring back at his father in the rearview mirror. Edwin Hoover huffed and waved his hand in exasperation before gesturing to Olive, who sat in front of him listening to her music and blissfully unaware of her grandfather's cursing.

“She’s listening to music!” he shouts back to his son, “Hey Olive, I’ll give you a million bucks if you turn around!” Olive made no move to look back at her grandfather and continued listening to her music, dancing a little in her seat.

“Alright but… the rest of us.” Richard exhales.

Edwin rolls his eyes, “oh yea the rest of you.” he turns his attention back to Dwayne, tapping his shoulder again, this time a little harder, “ Can I give you some advice?” Dwayne turns to look at him, still leaning heavily against your side and shakes his head with a bored expression.

Edwin seems unphased by the lackluster response of his eldest grandchild and proceeds to talk “I’ll do it anyway. I don’t want you making the same mistakes I did when I was young.” Dwayne glances at you and you offer him an amused smile as Edwin gives his best impression of a wise old man imparting great wisdom upon a young traveler, “ Dwayne, this is the voice of experience talking. Are you listening?” Dwayne doesn’t even pretend to care and shrugs while you giggle next to him, clearly amused by the entire situation.

“Kid, fuck alot of women.” he pauses for dramatic effect and you already feel a bit dizzy as you hold your breath to keep from laughing, “ Fuck alot of women. Not just one woman. A lot of women–” Richard coughs again a little louder, clearly trying to get his father to stop talking. Dwayne maintains his bored expression and you can barely contain your laughter as you rest against his side. You can hear Frank in front of you stifling his own laughter as he glances back a few times. Edwin doesn’t even seem to notice or care about his sons attempt to silence him as he continues talking.

“Be honest with me kid? Are you getting any? You can tell.” Edwins words have you nearly bursting into tears with laughter while Dwayne looks a bit annoyed next to you. Frank turns fully now to watch the conversation continue.

“Yea Dwayne….” you say between giggles, “You gettin any?” Dwayne glares at you immediately sending you into another fit of giggles before he finally turns to his grandfather and shakes his head, cheeks slightly pink with embarassment. You feel a bit bad teasing him like this but you can’t help it when he makes it so easy.

“Really? I thought for sure you two were screwing with how often she’s over.” Edwin says finally, clearly not bothered by the immediate awkward silence that fills the back seat as your face heats up. You can’t even bring yourself to look up at Dwayne but you can tell he isn’t enjoying the turn that this already awkward conversation has taken. He crosses his arms and moves slightly so he isn’t pressed so closely to you and you don’t move to stop him at first, far too embarrassed to try. Edwin and Richard argue back and forth for a moment while you shuffle nervously next to Dwayne.

Of course Edwin would make a joke like that, he had done it in the past and it had never really bothered you before. But things were different now and they had been for nearly a year. Dwayne was your best friend but more often than not these days you found yourself wondering if there was something more between the two of you. Above all else you found yourself wanting there to be something more between you. You were already so close so really all that would change would be the name you used to describe your relationship. You had no idea if Dwayne even liked you that way or if he even liked girls at all, neither of you talked about things like that. You know you should tell him but the idea of losing your best friend absolutely terrified you. What if it made him hate you? What if the idea of being with you in that way disgusted him? There was so much you could lose if you told him how much you cared for him and that was a thought that filled you with dread. Frank sent you a sideways glance and offered you a small smile as if he knew exactly what you were feeling.

After a minute or two of silently running yourself in circles in your head you tug on Dwayne's arm to pull him against your side again and he doesn’t try to fight it though you can see the slight flush to his cheeks as you rest your head back on his shoulder. He sighs as he rests his head against yours, gently tugging your arm to rest on his lap so he can trace little shapes on your forearm. This is fine , you tell yourself, more than fine. This is perfect. You don’t need anything more. Don't be selfish , you remind yourself, if this is all you can have with him then that should be more than enough. It is enough. It is.

“Dad, I swear I’ll pull over.” Richard threatens, bringing you back into focus.

“So pull over! You’re not gonna shut me up! Fuck you!” Edwin shouts back, “Jesus your as bad as those fuckers at Sunset Manor”

Frank perks up and you see the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes, you had seen it a hundred times in your own eyes, especially when you were around the Hoover family, “ What happened at Sunset Manor?” he asked innocently.

Sheryl sighed, “Frank don’t encourage him”

Frank gives her a smile and shrugs as Edwin replies, “I’ll tell you what happened. I paid my money. They took my money. I should be able to do what the fuck I want.” Edwin leans heavily into his seat with an exasperated huff. You grinned, you had heard this story a hundred times and somehow it never failed to be amusing.

“He started snorting Heroin.” Sheryl explains rolling her eyes while Richard looks absolutely horrified to be having this conversation while trapped in a car.

“You started snorting Heroin?” Frank asks, eyes widening as he looks at Edwin.

“I’m old!” Edwin says with a wave of his arms.

“That stuff will kill you.” Frank says, trying to hide the amused look on his face.

“What am i an idiot?” Edwin huffs, once again turning to tap Dwayne on the arm. Dwayne sighs and lazily looks at his grandfather, clearly ready for the conversation to just be over. “And don’t you two get any ideas about that stuff. When you’re young you’re crazy to do that shit.” he motions to you both this time, voice a little less amused and more stern. Dwayne nods and you offer a quick mock salute and a playful smile which Edwin returns.

“What about you?” Frank asks, giving you a sideways glance and a cheeky grin.

“When you get to my age you’re crazy not to do it.” Edwin replies, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back into his seat. After a bit longer, Olive turns to face her grandfather, lifting her headphones over her ears and tilting her head curiously.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asks.

Edwin looks at her for a minute and then casts a glance to Frank and then to you and Dwayne before looking back at Olive, “Politics” Olive’s nose scrunches up as she quickly turns back around, no longer interested in what the adults are talking about as she pulls her headphones back over her ears.

Edwin leans back in his seat with a long sigh, “Fuck alot of women kid. I’ve got no reason to lie to you. Not just one woman. A Lot of women.” he points then at you, “you be careful though, there are some real creeps out there.” you snort at his advice but still give him a nod of agreement. The car goes quiet again, except the low hum of the engine and the sound of cars rushing past. Everyone seems to have had their fill of small talk for the time being and for now you are content enough not to try and fill the silence like you normally would. Dwayne pulls his notebook off of your lap and carefully flips through it until he lands on a page he had already written on. He places the notebook back on your lap, tapping the paper to make sure you know he wants you to read it.

“Welcome to Hell” You smile at the note, laughing as you lean a bit more heavily against him. You can feel him laugh quietly as he goes back to tracing shapes on your arm. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to start to feel heavy as you start to fall asleep to the sound of the car engine and Dwayne’s steady heart beat. He wrapped an arm around you carefully shifting you to make sure you were comfortable before he too began to drift off with you curled up against his side.

#little miss sunshine #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover #dwayne hoover fanfic #dwayne hoover little miss sunshine #this ones dedicated to danonation #justcallmeangel fic tag #dwayne hoover x you #edwin hoover is my hero

[just-call-me-angel]

Little Miss Loser

Chapter 7 - The Language Of Losers

Warnings: none

Authors Note: Hey guys!! Sorry about the delay on this update! I've been sick since last week but I'm starting to feel a little better finally. I'm not loving this chapter as much as my last couple of updates so if you see me edit this chapter at all mind your business lmao. I did enjoy the banter in this chapter at least lol :) Thank you guys so much for the continued support!! I've loved chatting with some of you guys on tumblr its really kept my motivated and inspired!

Summary: Frank and the reader are little shits and they absolutely team up against Richard also Edwin gives surprisingly good advice

Ao3

Chapters: || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 ||

Listening to Richard’s bullshit was already pretty awful. But having to hear him drone on and on about his nine steps was so much worse. You were almost positive it was some form of psychological torture at this point, especially when Richard literally had you all as his captive audience.

The only bright side was having another person there to annoy the shit out of Richard in return. You were actually pretty impressed by how easily Frank slipped into the role of Richard’s annoying brother-in-law. Even Dwayne looks entertained as he listens to his uncle's sarcastic replies to Richard’s nonsense. 

At first, Richard is oblivious to the snide remarks from both you and Frank, too busy prattling on with his sales pitch. 

“--This is the guy who broke Tony Robbins! I mean he knows how to do it — start with the book; media tour; then corporate events, consulting, video series, direct buys on TV”  

You glance at Frank and then Dwayne, rolling your eyes. You honestly had his pitch memorized, you’d heard it so many times. 

“--There’s a science in how you roll these things out.” 

Frank sighs, shifting in his seat in front of you, “Very interesting.” 

“So now he’s at this Expo in Atlanta – he’s been hyping it up, you know, building the buzz – he’s doing what’s called a ticking clock auction.” 

Frank sits up a little straighter, voice dripping with sarcasm, “How about that,” he pauses and turns to you, “Isn’t that incredible (Y/N)?” 

You snort and nod, “Sure is.” 

Richard goes a bit rigid, “I can detect that note of sarcasm from you, Frank.” 

Frank gasps, doing a stunning job at playing up the shocked expression he has on his face, “Sarcasm? What sarcasm? (Y/N) did you notice any sarcasm?”

You shrug and offer Richard a teasing grin as he glances back at you through the rearview mirror, “Nope, no sarcasm.” Sheryl shakes her head, laughing to herself as Frank shoots you a shit-eating grin.

“Well I just want you to know– I feel sorry for you” 

Frank glances back at you, then at Dwayne, and then back to Richard, “You do? Good” 

Richard nods, clearly feeling a bit proud of himself, thinking he’s managed to gain the upper hand, “Because sarcasm is the refuge of losers.” 

“What? No,” you say in horror, biting back a laugh when you make eye contact with Dwayne. 

Frank mimics your shocked expression and gasps, “It is? Really?!” Sheryl shakes her head, trying not to laugh in the passenger seat.

“Sarcasm is just losers trying to pull winners down to their level. That’s one of the lessons of Step Four.” You had to hand it to Richard, the guy always knew how to bring the conversation back to his 9 steps. 

“Wow, Richard! You’ve really opened my eyes to what a loser I am!” Frank pauses and turns to you, “ (Y/N) how about you? You feel like you’ve learned something about yourself?”

You nod, grinning cheekily, “Dang, I sure wish I could be less of a loser like you Richard.” Dwayne snorts beside you, shaking his head when you wink at him.]

“Say, Richard, how much do we owe you for those pearls of wisdom?” 

Richard grunts, jaw tensing as he glances back at the two of you, “Oh this one’s on me buddy. It’s on me.”  From there you watch as the two men go back and forth. 

Sheryl sighs, twisting in her seat, “Okay. Alright, That’s enough. Frank, (Y/N), stop it.” 

You and Frank point at Richard and speak in unison, “He started it!”

Sheryl stares at both of you, shaking her head and laughing. It doesn’t take long for everyone else to begin giggling as well. Dwayne smiles beside you, rolling his eyes when you grin at him. 

Richard huffs and puffs in the front seat for a moment, opening his mouth to say something until his phone goes off.

“Alright! Alright! Quiet this is the call! This is it!” 

You ignore Richard and turn to Dwayne, leaning against his arm, “You having fun yet?”

He rolls his eyes, scrawling something down onto his notepad, “I would literally rather be dead.” 

You snort, shoving his arm playfully, “Come on, you’re having fun, I saw you smile” he shrugs, shoving you back a little bit, his lips twitching as he tries not to laugh–

You jolt as the bus swerves into the next lane, preparing to get off at the next exit, “Alright everyone, quick stop so i can get ahold of Stan, and then we’ll be back on the road!” Richard shouts, tossing his phone into the center console. 

Richard pulls into a small convenience store and barely gets into the car park before he hops out and runs toward the payphone. Everyone else remains in the car for a few seconds, just watching Richard’s frantic pacing as he waits for the call to go through. 

It doesn’t take long for all of you to get a little bored waiting. Sheryl shuffles out of the bathroom and Olive goes off to the other end of the parking lot to practice her routine. Frank went inside to grab a drink and some porn magazines for Granpa Edwin (It had taken everything in you not to start giggling when Edwin told Frank to grab himself a ‘fag rag’)Dwayne stepped out and went to stretch his legs on a patch of grass behind the bus, occasionally you would look through the window and watch him try not to laugh when you made a face at him. 

Which left you with Edwin for a little while. At first, you occupied yourself, drawing in Dwayne’s notebook or reading small passages out of his favorite book, smiling at the little notes he left in the margins. 

“So…kid.” Edwin said pulling your focus off of the book in your lap, “ You and Dwayne?”

You froze instantly, nearly tearing a page of the book as you turned to him, brows furrowed, “Excuse me?”

“Oh come on kid, I’m the old man with the bad hearing, not you. I know you heard me.” 

 You gave a nervous laugh, “Yeah I heard you.” you glance out the window catching a glimpse of Dwayne in the grass doing situps, “I just–I just don’t–uh–know what you’re trying to ask me”

Edwin shakes his head, and laughs, “Jesus kid do I really have to spell it out for you?” you stare blankly at him and he sighs. “When are you two going to stop dancing around each other?” 

“I’m not really a dancer.” you joke, attempting to turn the conversation around. 

Edwin snorts, “Alright smartass,” he sobers up quickly, raising a greying brow at you, “Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you. We all see the way you look at Dwayne, it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots on that.” 

“What–I–That—That's not–I don’t–Dwayne is just–”

Edwin shakes his head and waved a hand dramatically at you,“Yea yea–he’s your best friend I know–whatever, that’s not the point. You like him.” 

You stare, gaping at him for a few moments trying to decide if you should keep trying to deny it or if you should just come clean. Finally, you sigh, shoving Dwayne’s book into the bag at your feet before turning over to look at Edwin.

Edwin seems to notice the way you fall back defeated into your seat. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder, “Kid it's alright… Ya know he likes you too.” 

You snort, amused at the possibility, “yea right.” 

“Kid I swear to god I have no reason to lie to you.”  he nudges your arm, “And i’m not gonna tell Dwayne if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Fuck it I guess.

You curl into yourself a bit, biting at the inside of your cheek, “Do you—Do you think he knows?” 

Edwin laughed at first but stopped as soon as he noticed you slump into your seat. He sighs, shifts a little closer, and pats your shoulder, “I don’t think he knows.”

You nod voice quiet and less confident than it normally would be, “I just don’t want to lose him.” 

Edwin nods in the way that elderly people do when they’re about to tell you a long story with some meaningful ending.

“Listen, kid, I pretend to know a lot of things, and most of its bullshit–” he smiles when you snort at his word use, “But I can honestly say that I don’t think you’d lose Dwayne, kid’s got it bad for you, we all see it.” 

You sigh, lifting your legs up to curl against your chest, resting your chin on your knees, “How can you be sure?” 

Edwin lets out a bark of laughter that makes you jump a bit, tilting your head at him, “Kiddo do I look like a fucking man who is ever sure about anything in life?”

You laugh with him for a few seconds, glancing out the window at each member of the Hoover family. You get stuck staring at Dwayne, watching as he continued doing various stretches. He’d be done soon and he’d join you on the bus again and you’d sit next to him and try your hardest to pretend that you weren’t head over heels for him.

Finally, you turn to Edwin, tilting your head slightly as you look at him, “I don’t know what to do,” you paused, words catching in your throat for a moment, “I feel like I should tell him because I hate lying to him… He’s my bestfriend–and–and–my parents—they–their divorcing and I just– I don’t want to end up–” 

“Woah, woah – kid – christ how do you not go crazy with thoughts constantly going wild in that brain of yours.” he shakes his head, placing his hands on his forehead and massaging the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know much about your family or anything like that but–shit kid you can’t live your life based on the mistakes your parents make.--” 

You stare at him blankly, squeezing your knees to your chest as he continues speaking, “Look kid, you’re what– 17?” he waits for you to nod,” Jesus kid for such a little troublemaker you sure do worry a lot, I mean you’ve got your whole life ahead of you for fucks sake, you got no reason to be worrying about shit like divorce already– go a little wild– just fucking— live your life kid”

You blink at him, brows furrowed for a moment before you finally gave a smile “You kind of suck at giving advice ya know that?” 

Edwin was quick to laugh at that, clapping his hand on your shoulder, “I’m doing my best kid.” 

To be fair, his best wasn’t all that bad. The advice was surprisingly helpful. He was right, you were 17 for fucks sake, you couldn’t live your life fending off a potential heartbreak like your parents. You deserved to just live life like every other teenager on earth. You didn’t know if you believed that Dwayne felt the same, but it did make you a little giddy to think about. 

Still, you weren’t ready to tell Dwayne how you felt. Admitting it to yourself, and to Edwin had been a start at least.

As if on cue Dwayne came into your line of sight, poking his messy head of hair into the doorway as he waved at you. You looked at Edwin first, biting your cheek nervously when he nodded at you, and then you looked at Dwayne gesturing for him to climb onto the bus. 

“What? You pull a muscle already tough guy?” you teased, poking his arms as he fell into the seat between you and Edwin. 

He rolled his eyes and leaned against you, smirking a bit at the way you scrunched your nose at him feeling how sweaty he was. You shoved him, ruffling his hair, “You fucking stink”  He shoved you back and you began playfully fighting, giggling when Dwayne poked your sides, knowing damn well how ticklish you were.

Edwin watched you both, a teasing smile on his lips whenever he caught your eye. It was both annoying and encouraging to know you had someone in your corner. After a while you stopped shoving each other, leaning against each other and laughing quietly until you caught sight of Richard talking angrily on the phone across the parking lot. 

Grandpa Edwin was quick to pick up on his body language as Richard spoke with increasing desperation, “He’s not getting it. Christ” You glanced up first at Richard and then shared a look with Edwin and Dwayne.

Frank appears then, walking stiffly and tossing a bag at Edwin before shuffling into his seat, “How’s it going?” 

You snorted, “Take a guess.” 

Grandpa Edwin hummed “Not so good.” Frank nodded and leaned back into his seat, slurping loudly at his blue slushie.

Sheryl and Richard return to the bus at the same time, at first you can’t hear what they're talking about but clearly, Sheryl isn’t happy with Richard. Honestly, you don’t really try very hard to listen to the conversation, if it was something small it would have amused you but the actual fighting just sort of made your mind go numb.

Dwayne was quick to notice the way you sank into your seat trying to get further away from the shouting. He pulled you into his side, one arm wrapping around your shoulder to keep you grounded. You leaned into him instantly, resting your head on his shoulder, whispering a quiet “thank you” as the fighting finally died down and Richard put the car into gear and allowed it to drift down the heal.

You remained like that as you coasted back onto the highway, tracing the letters stamped onto Dwayne’s T-shirt. Everyone is quiet at first and you realize after a moment that something is missing. Dwayne is already lifting his notebook for you and Frank to read by the time you recognize what’s wrong. 

“Where’s Olive?” You and Frank say in unison, cursing when Richard swerves to get off the highway and go back to the convenience store. 

Thank god for Olive being such a good sport about her family's antics. She looks absolutely thrilled when she sees the bus roll back into the parking lot. And she’s even more excited to dive onto the bus as Dwayne slides the door open and helps her in.

Olive climbs into the back seat, switching seats with Edwin so she can sit with you and Dwayne. She spends 20 minutes just talking your ear off before she falls asleep. And as much as you try not to, you and Dwayne end up falling asleep along with her. You imagine it had to have been kind of adorable to see Olive curled up on one side of Dwayne while you were curled up on the other side. 

It was easier to relax around Dwayne after talking with Edwin. Eventually, maybe you’d follow his advice and actually tell Dwayne how you felt. For now, you were content with just taking a nap.

TAGLIST

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#angel's stuff and things #just angels updates #danonation #this ones dedicated to danonation #little miss sunshine #dwayne hoover #fanfic #dwayne hoover little miss sunshine #little miss loser #little miss sunshine fic #little miss loser update #justcallmeangel #justcallmeangel fic tag #little miss loser taglist #sorry this took so long my body hates me lol #ily guys!!

[just-call-me-angel]

WARNING!!! Do not follow if you are under the age of 18! Most of my writing contains nsft content!!

About the Author

Hello, I'm Angel/Anders! I'm in my early 20's and I use all pronouns (though I do prefer bun/bunself pronouns most of the time) I am happily taken (sorry ladies lol) and have three lovely partners whom iI love very much. I'm not super active on social media and I tend to forget I even have it sometimes so I'm really hoping I can actually maintain this blog. I have only just recently gotten back into writing and I've been having a lot of fun with it (special thanks to my gf for convincing me to get back into writing). I am also an artist so i'll probably post art periodically along with my fics! Feel free to pop in and say hello or ask questions if you'd like, I can't promise a speedy reply but I'll do my very best to get back to you when I can!

Ao3

Current Fandoms

Danonation!

Batman 2022

More to be added

Master lists

!!-nsft

Dano!Riddler (Batman 2022) !!

Clever Girl - Edward Nashton x Waitress! AFAB! Reader

(Takes place prior to the start of Batman 2022 )

Edward starts visiting a local Diner in Gotham where he meets a pretty waitress who he quickly becomes obsessed with. Edward is a total creep but honestly the reader is kinda fucked up to so they belong together <3

IN PROGRESS

Chapters: || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 ||

Ao3

Taglist

Dwayne Hoover (Little Miss Sunshine)

Little Miss Loser - Dwayne Hoover x AFAB!Reader

Reader is Dwayne's best friend joins the hoover family on their road trip to California. Frank plays match maker for his nephew. Grandpa Edwin is a menace to society. Olive wonders why the reader isn't Dwayne's girlfriend. Richard is a shit head and Sheryl really deserves a vacation. Dwayne and Reader struggle to understand and come to terms with their mutual feelings towards one another. Lots of tooth rotting fluff!

IN PROGRESS

Chapters: || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 ||

Ao3

Taglist

Calvin Weir-Fields (Ruby Sparks)

The Perfect Girl - Calvin Weir-Fields (Ruby Sparks) x AFAB!Reader !!

(Inspired by the scene towards the end of the movie ruby Sparks where Calvin tells Ruby she isn't real.)

Reader takes the place of Ruby in the scene and rather than letting her go once he realizes she is slipping away from him, Calvin decides to try controlling her in a very different way. Contains NSFT content involving non-con/dub-con elements!

COMPLETE

Ao3

Klitz (The Girl Next Door)

Klitz With a K - Fuckboy!Klitz x AFAB!Reader !! KIitz and reader went to highschool together and Reader had the biggest crush on him. She thought the crush would go away once she graduated. Instead she has to confront her feelings head on when she meets Klitz again at a college party. It certainly doesn't help that Klitz has become a total fuckboy and he's intent on adding her to the list of girl's he's managed to bed. She can't even decide if it's a good thing or a bad thing that he doesn't remember her from High school. Either way she wants him bad. Ao3

Coming Soon...

Klitz (The Girl Next Door) x Reader !!

Brian (Fast Food Nation) x Reader !!

Jay (Okja) x Reader !!

College Au Edward Nashton (Batman 2022) x Reader !!

Klitz x Reader x Eli Brooks !!

Eli Brooks (The Girl Next Door) x Reader !!

I will try my best to keep this post updated so its easier to find my works without having to search my entire blog!!

#navigation #about the author #justcallmeangel fic tag #justcallmeangel masterlist #masterlist #angel's stuff and things #upcoming fics

[just-call-me-angel]

Clever Girl

Chapter 3 - Monster In The Closet

Warnings: Nsft content!!!, edward is a creep<3, noncon voyeurism, closet peeping,(noncon?)mutual masturbation,panty theft, panty sniffing, obssessive behavior, stalking

Author's note: Touching grass is no longer enough I need to be put down. This chapter was so fucking fun to write oh my god. I really hope you guys enjoy it because I'm honestly really proud of this one. Edward being a creep has got to be my favorite thing to write. (Check the end of the fic for a fun surprise!)

Summary: Edward wonders what you would do if you ever caught him following you home. Would you scream? Would you run away? Would he wake up the next morning to cops banging on his front door? No, he decides, you would never run from him, you were his clever girl after all. He imagines instead that you would smile at him, tease him with a little laugh, Edward you scared me, and then you’d ask him to walk you home, "Why are you walking so far behind me Eddie?"

Ao3

Chapters: ||1||2||3||4||

Edward spends most of his nights when he isn’t busy with work following you home. He’d like to tell himself that it was only to make sure you got home safe. Really he’s just making sure you’re safe so that he can be the one to ruin you. It takes everything in him not to just grab you and take you on the cold damp ground in some dark alleyway.

He’s biding his time. He could almost hear the old nuns of the orphanage scolding him, Don’t play with your food Edward. But Edward loved playing with you. You were his new favorite game without even having to try.

Sometimes he walks a little closer behind you so you can hear his footsteps. It’s risky, he knows it is, at any moment you could catch him, and it's absolutely thrilling. He likes the way you freeze up when you hear his heavy boots against the ground. He likes the way he can hear your shaky breaths as you walk a little faster. He especially likes when you almost catch him and he has to scurry into an alleyway and wait until he hears you walk away.

He wonders what you would do if you ever caught him following you home. Would you scream? Would you run away? Would he wake up the next morning to cops banging on his front door? No, he decides, you would never run from him, you were his clever girl after all. He imagines instead that you would smile at him, tease him with a little laugh, Edward you scared me, and then you’d ask him to walk you home, Why are you walking so far behind me Eddie?

He doesn’t even know why he imagined you calling him Eddie, he’d always hated the nickname. It was always what the older kids called him when they were shoving him to the ground and kicking the shit out of him Come on Eddie! Don't be such a pussy, Eddie! Just fucking get up already Eddie! Come on put up a fight, Eddie! He imagined the nickname would sound sweeter coming from your lips. Walk me home Eddie, you’d say, staring at him with a little pout on your lips like you were begging him. As if you even needed to beg, he’d do anything you asked of him.

But that never happened, at least not yet. Thus far he had managed to remain unseen by you on his nightly walks following you. And the next day you would greet him when he walked into the diner, blissfully unaware of the fact that he had been following you home. He had felt so giddy when you mentioned briefly to him that you’d be taking a different shift for a few days because you were worried someone was stalking you.

“You might not see me for a few days” you had told him, giving him a sheepish smile when tilted his head curiously at you.

“Is everything alright?” he had asked, biting his tongue to keep from smiling when you fidgeted nervously with the hem of your apron.

“Uh... Well, I’m just taking a different shift for the next week or so,” you paused, eyes glancing frantically out the window as if you were expecting someone to be outside watching you.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, gently reaching out to touch your hand. You had looked at him like you wanted to jump into his arms. You had no idea that he was the one you should have been worried about, how very foolish of you.

“No, Edward… it’s alright, I just have been worried someone might be following me home so Darcy’s putting me on a different shift for a bit, that’s all.” You didn’t even try to pull away from his touch, you let his hand rest atop yours, smiling shyly like you were waiting for him to do something.

He smiled, tracing small circles over the back of your hand, “What shift will you be working, maybe I can swing by and check on you.” he offered, pride swelling in his chest at the hopeful look you gave him.

“Oh Edward, I couldn’t ask you to do that, I’m sure you have better things to do than worry about me. I’m sure it’s nothing anyway, I’m probably just being paranoid,” you said shaking your head. God, you really were so foolish to trust him. He’d teach you to be more careful someday.

“I really don’t mind, I can’t very well leave you deprived of my riddles now can I, clever girl?” he hadn’t missed the way you shivered and your cheeks went red at the pet name he had given you. He wanted to know what else he could say to make you turn that lovely shade of red.

Finally, you had told him what times you would be working, nervously telling him he really didn’t need to worry about you, and blushing even more when he told you he wanted to make sure you were safe.

Oh, you really were so much fun to play with.

He hadn’t even been the least bit annoyed about the situation knowing he’d have to move his schedule around a bit. He didn’t care. You were worth it. Whatever the cost. You were always going to be worth every penny.

The only unfortunate part of your switching shifts was that your walk home took place in broad daylight so it was a little harder to keep out of sight. It helped if there were other people out and about, at least then he could blend in the crowd. But it worked out in his favor in the end. He knew exactly when you went to work and when you were set to go home, which meant he knew when he should try sneaking into your apartment without having to worry about you coming home and catching him.

In the span of a week, he visited your apartment at least four times. It had been almost laughable how easy it was to pick the lock on your door. You didn’t even have a deadbolt. He would fix that eventually, make sure no one would ever be able to hurt you. Except for him of course.

Your apartment was small, somehow it was more cramped than his own and yet you had fewer possessions than he did. Each time he broke in he found himself exploring more of your apartment, discovering things about you to help him better understand you. Help him better understand how to make you belong to him and him alone.

In time he knew your apartment like the back of his hand. He knew where everything was, he knew how you organized your kitchen spices, he knew how you separated your laundry and he even knew which side of the bed you slept on the most.

He was shocked by the lack of personal possessions in your home. When he had first entered the space he had momentarily worried he had broken into the wrong apartment, but there was mail on the counter in the kitchen that confirmed you were the only resident of apartment 6C. Still, he had expected more pictures, perhaps a few blurry photos of you as a child or even of your parents. But there was nothing, no graduation photos, no old birthday cards, nothing.

So you were like him. All alone, born in a world of lies, where the rich get richer and the poor die owing more money than they had ever owned in the first place. You understood him, even if you didn’t know it yet. You would approve of his work, he was sure of it. You would praise him for the plans he had in store for Gotham. You know what you have to become, Eddie. No one else can do it but you, Eddie.

He was careful, bringing up things he knew liked based on things he had seen around your apartment. He couldn’t make it too obvious, it needed to seem like a coincidence that he knew your favorite color and which brand of coffee you liked best. You were impossibly easy to convince of his innocence, you didn’t seem to suspect a thing, always so excited to see him each time he entered the diner as if he hadn’t just spent an hour jacking off in your bed.

You had no idea that he had figured out which perfume you used most so he could buy it to spray on his pillow at home and you had no idea how often he spent his nights thrusting his hips pathetically against his mattress with his face pressed into his pillow like he needed your scent to survive. You had no idea that the mysterious stains on some of your clothes, thrown around your bedroom floor, were all from him.

And really he should have been more careful to make sure you remained clueless to his perversions. He was going to get caught and as much as the idea thrilled him he wasn’t ready to end the little game he was playing with you.

This is why he had nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard you fumbling with your keys at the door. He was frozen for a moment, for all his fantasies about you catching him in the act, he still wasn’t prepared for how to act if it ever actually happened.

He had forgotten you were supposed to come early today, you had told him as much the day before, something about Darcy wanting you to get in some extra sleep before you switched back to your usual night shift. He hadn’t really been paying attention when you were telling him about it, he had been far too distracted by the fact that your blouse was unbuttoned enough that he could see the bra you were wearing. He had needed to scramble off to the bathroom to calm down when he recognized the bra as one he had used to jack off with only a few days prior, so he didn’t really get the chance to register what you were saying.

And now he was sitting on the edge of your mattress, with his pants pulled down his thighs and his hand already curled around his cock. You stayed in the kitchen for a moment, shuffling around. He could hear you opening and closing cabinets and the sound of the paper bags, meaning you had just gotten home from getting groceries.

It should have made him scramble to find a place to hide knowing he only had a few minutes before you inevitably found him. But he remained frozen until he stopped hearing you moving around for a moment, and then footsteps coming down the hall towards the bedroom had him scrambling towards the closet, shoving the door open just enough for him to shove his way inside.

He watched you through the tiny slits of your closet door as you entered the room, showing no signs that you had noticed anything out of place. You sighed, shoulders dropping as you shuffled into the room, falling into your mattress as soon as your knees hit the edge of the bed.

He held his breath, willing himself not to make a single noise as you stretched across the length of your bed. His cock twitched at the whimper you let out and he had to bite back his own low whine. He needed to be quiet or he was going to get caught. You’re fucking disgusting Eddie. Do you like to watch pretty girls from afar like a creep don’t you Eddie? You were waiting for me to come home and catch you weren’t you? His cock twitched again and he dug his fingers into his thighs as he leaned back further into the depths of your closet.

He took slow quiet breaths, willing you to just go to bed so he could sneak out before you found him with his pants hanging off around his thighs and his dick leaking all over his jeans. Fucking Christ it didn’t help that he was sitting in your closet, surrounded by your scent.

You sat up on the bed, quickly untucking your work blouse from your skirt and tugging it over your head without even bothering to unbutton it completely. He was going to die here, he decided. He was going to die in your closet with his cock out and the last thing he would ever hear you saying would likely be you calling him a disgusting freak and calling the cops.

You continued to strip, unaware of him watching you from your closet. Despite the anxiety, he felt at the thought of you actually catching him he couldn’t stop himself from staring at you, nor could he stop himself from reaching down to wrap his hand around the base of his cock again as you lifted your hips off the bed to tug your skirt off. He just needed to take the edge of until you went to sleep.

He waited for you to curl up into your mattress. Waited for you to drift off so he could sneak out of your closet without you noticing. But you didn’t move to turn off the light or even shuffle under your blankets. Instead, you pulled yourself up to lean against your pillows, the same pillows he had been rubbing up against an hour before you had arrived.

Edward swallowed the moan that threatened to spill from his lips as you unclipped the bra, tossing it across the room. God, you were even prettier up close. He could almost make out every freckle, every beauty mark, every little detail on your soft skin. It made him bite down hard on his lower lip, hard enough he could taste blood on his tongue.

This is fine. Everything will be fine. She’s just getting comfortable before bed. Just keep your mouth shut and you’ll make it out of here without her ever knowing you were here. You’ll even have some new things to imagine next time you jack off alone in your house. Just sit tight Edward. You can do this–

You let out a breathy whine, and it takes a moment for Edward’s eyes to focus on what exactly you’re doing. Your hands are moving down. Down. down. And oh god– Edward nearly chokes, I’m dead, I’m so fucking dead. She’s touching herself and I’m stuck in her closet. Is this what hell is like? His hips are moving up to meet his hand before he can even stop himself. God you look so fucking gorgeous with your face all flushed while you drag your hands down your body.

This definitely isn’t hell, he decides, this is heaven, it has to be. He can’t believe he’s actually glad to be stuffed in your cramped little closet. You whimper, pushing yourself further up your bed, using your pillows to stay propped up. One hand reaches up to rest over one of your breasts, while the other traces a line straight down to the hem of your forest green panties.

If he squints he swears he can see a darkened patch in the fabric and it makes him choke back a whine. He wanted to be the thing that got you worked up like this. He wanted to make your cheeks flush deep red. God, it took everything in him not to jump out of the closet and beg you to let him touch you as he watch your hand slip beneath the band of your panties.

You sounded so fucking needy. You sounded like music to his ears. You sounded like heaven. God, he wanted to see your pretty little cunt so fucking bad. He was silently begging you to just remove your panties already so he could see your fingers moving better. He was practically praying, he was already on his goddamn knees for Christ's sake.

And then you were moving again, whining as you lifted your hips to tug your panties down, letting them hang off of one leg, and fuck, you were just perfect. God is real and he has sent me a fallen angel. He nearly sobbed when he noticed the slick dripping from your cunt. Your hand was back between your thighs in an instant and his own hand followed suit.

He doesn’t even care if he gets caught at this point, he just wants– no he needs to reach his high at the same time as you. If he wasn’t dead already he was sure he would be soon if he didn’t get to watch you cum.

You gasped, or maybe he did, he wasn’t all that sure at this point, all that mattered was you slipping a finger into your cunt and whimpering as your thighs trembled against your mattress. He was shaking too, his thighs were burning from sitting on his knees in your closet and he already felt so fucking close to his limit.

Another finger dove between your folds, curling upwards and making you whine, and buck your hips. His hips moved in tandem with your’s following you step for step, trying so fucking hard not to just thrust wildly into his fist. It's better that he’s going slow and following your lead, it's easier to be quiet.

Every few seconds he forgets to breathe till he's dizzy and going red in the face, fist still curled around his dick. He’s lucky you’re so preoccupied, so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t hear his heart beating rapidly or the shaky breaths he lets out when he remembers he needs oxygen to survive.

God, he should have done this ages ago. Risks be damned, this is fucking heaven. He reaches a shaky hand up to shove his glasses back up his nose, squinting to watch you grind into your hand, thumb tracing tight circles over your clit that have you sobbing into your other hand. He gives the base of his cock a firm squeeze, biting his lip to keep from letting out a low whine.

He wishes he was closer, wishes he could see your cunt spasm around your fingers–wishes it was his fingers driving into your cunt and making you cry out. He closes his eyes for a moment, just imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers curled inside you– or better yet, what it would feel like to have your cunt squeezing his cock, milking him for every last drop of cum he had to offer.

For a second he’s so lost in thought he nearly misses it, misses the way you cry out his name. At first, he’s not even sure you actually even said his name. It wouldn’t be the first time he had imagined you whimpering his name and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Edward”

Yea he’s definitely hearing things, he decides. There was no way he was that lucky. In fact, Edward was notoriously unlucky–

“Edward”

Fuck there it is again. He opens eyes, pushing his face closer to the door and watches your mouth, still fucking his own fist, and biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.

“Edward…please”

Oh god… Maybe he is dead… or maybe this is some sort of sick prank your pulling to punish him for being a creep… Either way, he spins it, he can’t deny that it’s his name slipping past your lips.

God, you really were perfect for him. His perfect clever girl. His hips bucked wildly now, he couldn’t even bring himself to try to take it slow anymore. You weren’t taking it to slow anymore either though. You were just as close to tipping over the edge as he was, he could see in the way you bit down on your fist, and the way your legs began to tremble. He moved faster, encouraged by the way his movements began to stutter and your whole body started to lock up.

He kept his eyes open, even as he came into his hand, lip bitten so hard he could taste blood on his tongue. He couldn’t look away from you. He needed to commit the image of you hitting your high so hard that you froze in place, back arched, toes curled and your mouth opened as you choked out his name in a broken sob.

All he could think of was how fucking gorgeous you were. Never in his life could have imagined he would have the good fortune of finding out someone he was interested in was equally as interested in him. It seemed too good to be true. And yet here you were, sprawled out on your bed, thighs soaked in your own cum, the ghost of his name still resting on your parted lips.

It took you 10 minutes to get your breathing back to normal, and even then your cheeks were still red and your thighs were still shaking. He could feel his dick twitch a bit at the pathetic whimper you let out when your hand brushed over your sensitive clit. You crawled out of bed slowly, he could see the slick glistening on your thighs as you made your way across the room, trembling like a newborn deer.

You stumbled into your bathroom, whimpering when you nearly tripped stepping through the doorway. And then the door was shut and Edward waited for a moment until he heard the shower running before he began to open the closet door, hands fumbling to pull his pants back up around his waist. He stood on aching legs, looking around to make sure he hadn’t left behind evidence of his presence. As far as he could tell, there were no signs that he had ever been hiding in your closet, so he made his way quickly towards the exit, only stopping when he caught a glimpse of the panties you had been wearing moments before.

He paused, looking back at the bathroom door and then down at the green panties on the floor before diving to grab them. He stared at them for a moment, giddy at the realization that he could feel the slick dampening of the panties. He didn’t think about it before he was lifting the panties to his nose and inhaled.

Fuck, today must be his lucky day. He takes another deep breath before carefully folding the panties and tucking them into his pocket, as he shuffles quietly out of your apartment, locking the door with a quiet click behind him.

----------------------

Starting now I will be ending each chapter with a Riddle, once solved the answer should give you some insight as to what I have planned for the next update! Please don't feel pressured to solve them and dont be hard om yourself if you struggle with them a bit. This is just a fun way for me to interact with you all and give you something to look forward to in the next update! (That being said i do ask that you don't google the answers and ruin the fun for everyone else)

Here's the riddle,

I see all but I have no eyes. I hold the moments you treasure most. I shoot but never to kill. Give me a smile, don't be shy, go on and tell me, what am I?

I wish you all the best of luck! Remember you are far more clever than you think you are and I'll be rooting for all you guys!

-Angel

#batman 2022 #dano riddler #edward nashton #incel riddler #the riddler #batman riddler #paul dano riddler #riddler x reader #riddler x you #edward nashton x you #edward nashton x reader #justcallmeangel fic tag

[just-call-me-angel]

Little Miss Loser

Chapter 3 - 101 Reasons To Worry

Warnings: none

Author's Note: Honestly, this was meant to be a self-indulgent fic for me so I can sit alone on the couch and twirl my hair and giggle while imagining being Dwayne's girlfriend. But I'm thrilled that you guys are enjoying it as much as I am enjoying writing it!

Summary: Dwayne makes a list of all the reasons why he should be worried about his best friend joining his family road trip.

Ao3

Chapters: || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7

Dwayne looked down at you as you curled closer to him, mumbling softly in your sleep, blissfully unaware of the way you were making him feel. It was so stupid and cliche, realizing he had a crush on his best friend. In truth, he had known for some time that he was starting to feel differently towards you, but it had been different before. Now he was stuck on a stupid family trip with you where any number of things could go wrong and it terrified him.

So he did what he usually did when things made him anxious. He made a list of all the reasons why he should be worried and all the reasons he should have never agreed to go on the trip in the first place.

Number 1: He has to confront the feelings he has for his best friend

He had to ignore the feelings for months, even going as far as avoiding you for a few days earlier on in the summer. He had failed miserably of course, as soon as you stopped him in the halls at school to ask why he had been avoiding you he was putty in your hands. It was sort of pathetic actually, how easily any resolve he had would crumble just from looking at you. He wondered if his mother had ever felt like that with Richard or with his own father.

Number 2: His best friend finds out about how he feels

He knew you would find out eventually and it would be a wonder if he could manage to keep it to himself for the entire trip. At least with his vow of silence, it wouldn’t seem odd for him not to talk as much around you. Then again you always seemed to have a way of seeing straight through him and knowing exactly what he was thinking about. It honestly terrified him sometimes how easily you could read him. He prided himself on being hard to get to know and yet you managed to figure him out with a simple glance in his direction.

Number 3: He loses his best (and only) friend all because he decided to start falling for her

He highlighted the reason in bold letters in his mind. That was the most terrifying part of the whole ordeal he had found himself in. Despite all his blunder about preferring solitude, he’d be lost without you. He needed you in a way he had never anticipated needing anyone. He needed you to be there to fill the silence when he couldn’t. He needed your terrible doodles in his notebooks constantly making him laugh. He needed your laughter and your smile.

Dwayne looked down at you again, carefully brushing a strand of hair from your face, smiling a bit when you pressed your face into his shoulder. Before meeting you he would never have allowed so much physical contact, but you had a way of making him like things he normally hated. It was like you had hacked into his programming and flicked a couple of switches that made hating things around you damn near impossible. He couldn’t even confidently say he hated life if he had you next to him.

Number 4: He falls even harder for his best friend

He was already proving that line of thought to be warranted just by looking at you now. It was a wonder he hadn’t realized sooner that his feelings were beyond friendship. You were pretty and smart and you never failed to make him laugh, even when he tried desperately not to. You were loud and wild but you were also terrified of being too much for people, especially him. He hoped he never made you feel like that like you needed to make yourself smaller for him. He wanted you just the way you were. He wanted you wild. He wanted you free. He wanted you even when you annoyed the ever-living fuck out of him. Every moment with you was another moment he spent falling for you.

Number 5: He hurts her without meaning to

Dwayne was a pessimist first and a romantic last. As much as he would love to believe that nothing bad could ever happen to you if he loved you hard enough he had seen that love could fizzle out just as quickly as it came. He had seen it with his mom and dad and he was already seeing it again with his mom and Richard. Hell, he had spent enough nights holding you while you cried after sneaking out of the house to get away from your own parents' messy divorce. He wondered if maybe that's why he was so scared to love you. Maybe he was selfish for wanting to preserve what you already had, even if it meant you’d never know how much he loved you.

The list grew with every passing second and with each addition, there were two more reasons to worry that followed. He shifted slightly, holding his breath when he felt you stir next to him as if waking, only to quickly settle back against him with a sleepy mumble. For a moment he found peace, just taking the sight of you in. He smiled at the shirt you were wearing, were you anyone else he would have demanded you give the shirt back. But you weren’t anyone else, you were his best friend, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like seeing you wear his clothes.

It reminded him of all the girls at school who would wear their boyfriend’s jackets. He wondered if you had realized how wearing his shirt might be interpreted. He wondered if you cared. Most of all he wondered if you liked people thinking you were dating. You had on more than one occasion had to deflect Olive’s questions asking if you were his girlfriend. You never seemed to dissuade Olive or anyone else from believing the two of you were dating. You would simply smile and explain to Olive that you were his best friend, laughing when Olive eventually grew bored with the conversation and ran off to practice her routine.

He had noticed more than once how your cheeks would flush almost as red as his own. And he had also noticed the way you would sneak glances at him as if gauging his reaction any time someone questioned your relationship. Sometimes he fooled himself into thinking maybe you liked him back. He figured you simply wanted to make sure you were on the same page or maybe you were checking to make sure he didn’t get the wrong idea. Oh god. What if you knew he liked you and just didn’t want to say anything?

“You alright Dwayne?” a voice called out, bringing his focus forward to meet his Uncles gaze. He stared for a moment, a bit caught off guard by having been pulled from his thoughts so suddenly. Frank raised a brow at him and repeated his question. Dwayne glanced back at you for a moment, to make sure you were still asleep, before offering his uncle a shrug.

Frank nodded, looking between you and Dwayne, smiling a bit when you stirred slightly and sleepily tugged Dwayne closer to you. Dwayne froze, worried if he moved even a little he might wake you and Frank chuckled.

“You seem comfortable.” Frank teased, a knowing smile crossing his lips as if he was reading Dwayne’s mind. Dwayne clenched his jaw, looking quickly to the side to avoid looking his uncle in the eyes as his cheeks began to burn.

Number 27: His family was going to realize he liked you and they would make his life hell for it

Frank shook his head, still chuckling to himself as he turned back to sit correctly in his seat. Dwayne could swear he could still see Frank grinning to himself like he knew something no one else did. Dwayne huffed, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched the world go by outside the window, while you remained blissfully unaware of his thoughts running wild.

It felt like it took hours for the bus to come to a stop again and by then Dwayne had at least 20 more reasons on his list. He tried to wake you gently, brushing a hand through your hair and nudging your arm softly.

“Alright, everyone! Lunchtime!” Richard shouted from the front seat, completely ignorant of the sleeping girl in the back seat, “Let’s go people, I wanna be back on the road quickly.”

“Richard please.” Sheryl exhaled, shoving the passenger door open. Richard deflated almost instantly, suddenly going quiet as he shuffled out of the car.

Dwayne glared for a moment at his stepfather before turning back to tug on your arm gently. You grumbled a bit but soon you were staring sleepily up at him. He smiled and made a motion to mimic eating, and then pointed out the window at the little roadside diner they had parked in front of.

You blinked for a moment, rubbing sleep from your eyes, “Lunch?” you mumbled sleepily. Dwayne nodded quietly, moving carefully to pull you with him as he shuffled out of the backseat. You gave him the sweetest little smile as he helped you out of the car, hand resting on your lower back to keep you steady and suddenly all his anxieties were momentarily forgotten.

That was another thing you were good at. All it took was a smile from you for him to feel more sure of himself, even when he felt his worst. You convinced him that everything would be alright without even having to say a word.

He smiled back, guiding you alongside him to follow his family into the restaurant. You were quick to press into his side, bringing his arm over your shoulder while yours rested on his hip. Olive came skipping up to walk on the other side of you, tugging your free hand to hold hers. It didn’t take much for Olive to drag you along with her, leaving Dwayne to follow after you with a small smile playing on his lips as you grinned back at him, mouthing an apology. He shook his head and followed behind you, watching as you and Olive skipped ahead of him, giggling and chattering to one another. He decided then that he wouldn’t let anything tear you apart, even if it meant he could never tell you how he felt. It’s enough to have her like this. It has to be.

#justcallmeangel fic tag #danonation #this ones dedicated to danonation #paul dano #dwayne hoover fanfic #dwayne hoover little miss sunshine #dwayne hoover x you #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover #little miss sunshine fic

[just-call-me-angel]

Clever Girl

Chapter 2 - What's In A Name?

Warnings: NSFT content, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Edward being a peeping tom, etc

Author's Note: I meant to post this here a few days ago but I am a fool and I regularly forget I have Tumblr lol. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, next one should be up in a few days (if it's not posted here it will be posted to AO3)

Summary: Edward wondered if she even realized how stupid she had been to let him into her life. Gotham is full of freaks silly girl. Gotham is filled with monsters ready to destroy pretty little things like you, he silently chastised her. I could destroy you, he reminded you in his thoughts. I will destroy you, he decided with a grin, but it's alright ill put you together again and you can watch Gotham burn together. AKA Edward quickly becomes hooked on the pretty waitress at Rosie's diner

Ao3

Chapters: ||1||2||3||4||

Your shift began at midnight and every bone in your body seemed to ache as you dragged yourself out of bed. Your body screamed for you to just stay home and call in sick and on any other day you might have listened to it. But you had your mystery man to look forward to and you couldn’t possibly keep him waiting.

It seemed the mere thought of him and all that had happened during the previous night was enough to leave you wide awake. You had never in your life been so excited to get out of bed and go to work and you were a bit embarrassed at yourself when you realized how much care you were putting into how you looked. It was silly and childish how much you wanted this mystery man to notice you.

A part of you told yourself you shouldn’t care so much, what if he was a creep or a serial killer? Half of Gotham’s population was made up of creeps and it would be a miracle if you didn’t end up befriending at least one serial killer in Gotham at this point, you argued with yourself huffing a bit as you turned to look at yourself in the full body mirror you had propped up on the other end of your little bedroom. There wasn’t much you could do about your outfit, given you were wearing your work uniform but you had done your best to make it look nice. You had even decided to wear one of your nicer bras, something pink and lacy that left little to the imagination. You left a few buttons undone at the top of your pale blue blouse and tucked it neatly into the mid-thigh length black skirt you had been given for your uniform. During the winter months, you were allowed to wear a longer skirt but even that didn’t do much to cover up so you usually paired it with thick tights. But it was still pretty early in fall so you were still able to get away with the thin tights you normally wore.

Despite not being able to do much to add to your outfit you felt rather cute. You had even put more effort into your makeup beyond your usual routine of simply dabbing on some concealer and foundation and hoping for the best and your (h/c) hair was styled into a little half ponytail at the back of your skull. You were sure at least one of your coworkers would point it out but you could handle some teasing if it meant you would get to see your mystery man.

You let your mind wander as you made your daily commute to work, it wasn’t far enough that you needed to take a cab or even ride the subway and the walk there wasn’t too long but it was always dangerous. Especially for a woman in Gotham where every dark alley made you clutch your bag close against your hip and hold your pepper spray at the ready in your palm at all times. It was worse on the walk to work when it was still dark and the streetlamps barely lit the way for you.

The days where you took a morning shift were fine at least then there were more people by then, though you knew very few would ever attempt to help you if something did happen, it was still less likely to be attacked during the day. It wasn’t saying much in Gotham but it was the best you could hope for. Sometimes you still dream of a world without the filth of Gotham’s elite pouring down like acid rain and destroying the lives of people like you.

You often caught yourself casting a glare towards the Iceberg lounge whenever you passed it on your way to work, once or twice you had caught the eye of some mean looking men in suits and for days after that, you wondered if they would come after you simply for giving them a sideways glance. Sometimes the hopeless dreams turned to rage that burned through your chest and ate away at you until you wanted nothing more than to burn all of Gotham to the ground. It scared the hell out of you when you felt like that.

You often wished you had the same hope Ricky had for the people of Gotham or the same warmth that Darcy had for the people she worked with. You wondered if you simply weren’t as strong as they were but mostly you wondered if it made you a bad person the way you wanted to wipe Gotham clean of the rot. Something had to give , you reasoned, someday someone is going to remove Gotham's rotting heart , you were sure of it.

Even if it wasn't you who did it, you knew it would happen, you could feel it, the rot within you trembled at the thought of Gotham’s destruction and you could see yourself standing over the rubble finally free of Gotham even if that freedom was offered by the hand of Death.

Christ you needed a fucking therapist, you told yourself, laughing a bit to yourself when you remembered that help for the struggling underbelly of Gotham was next to impossible. It was a wonder Ricky could even afford to give you a decent tip every day with the shit pay he got as a social worker. Hell, it was a miracle he could afford to come in at all.

Yea negative on the therapist , you affirmed as you fumbled with your work keys and shoved the door open. The other waitress and line cook you typically worked with weren’t due to arrive for a few more minutes giving you time to change into your uniform and begin your shift duties for the day.

Darcy arrived not long after you, offering a bright smile as soon as she saw you, “Well don’t you look chipper today!” she teased, patting your arm playfully as you tied your apron around your waist. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment but you didn’t answer, simply shrugged and offered a little smile in return.

Guiding her apron around her hips and tying it carefully at the back, she chattered excitedly at you, “What’s got you in such a good mood today honey?” It didn’t shock you that she always seemed interested in your life outside of work, and it was quite sweet even when her questions flustered you into a stuttering stupor. She grinned at you, hands on her hips waiting for you to answer.

“Darcy, how could I possibly not be in a good mood when I’m working with you?” you joked, hoping it would distract from your clear embarrassment. She cackled and shook her head at you, gently swatting your side with a hand towel she picked up off the counter.

“Oh you are just too sweet for your own good honey.” she teased before slowly spinning to look around the kitchen frowning, “Where is Chris? He should have been here already to start kitchen prep.” Although you should be annoyed about your coworker's absence you were rather grateful for the distraction from Darcy’s teasing. “That boy is going to be the death of me I swear.” You could see the stress already working through her body, making her shoulders tense as she moved to massage the bridge of her nose.

“Don’t worry about it, we won’t have any customers for at least another hour, I’ll get kitchen prep started and you can hold down the fort in the dining area.” you offered, placing a hand on Darcy’s shoulders, squeezing gently in affirmation. She sighed and tension melted off of her almost instantly as she looked at you again, crow's feet tugging at the corners of her eyes and a smile back on her face.

“Like I said, too sweet for your own good.” she hummed, reaching out to squeeze your hand in thanks, “ You come out and get me as soon as Chris clocks in, alright,” she tells you sternly and you catch yourself feeling a bit bad for the scolding that your coworker would receive from Darcy. But Chris had been on the receiving end of enough of Darcy’s scoldings for you to know damn well he didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought. Either way, you were glad to have never pissed Darcy bad enough to end up in his position.

With a little sigh, you set to work prepping the kitchen for the next few hours of your shift. In all honesty, you didn’t mind the prep work all that much, especially when it was just you. It meant you were free to hum a little tune to yourself and let your mind wander as you weaved around the kitchen on autopilot.

Mostly it gave you time to think about your mystery man with his riddles and his nervous smile. There was so much you wanted to know about him. You wondered if he would keep asking you riddles, you hoped he would. It was fun to work for an answer, it drove your curiosity further, and in a way, it helped you understand him without really knowing him yet.

In the time you spent lost in thought, hard at work in the kitchen you had managed to get a fresh pumpkin pie into the oven, cleaned up some dishes that had been left behind by the previous shifts employees, and made sure the kitchen was practically spotless and ready for Chris.

“Hey, hot stuff” a low voice echoed behind you pulling you from your thoughts with a little jolt of surprise. You spun on your heel to meet the less than appropriate gaze of your coworker, Chris who was by then at least 40 minutes late. He had a cheeky grin on his face, not even trying to hide the way he was checking you out.

You scoffed and tossed the towel you had in your hands at him, hitting him in the shoulder with a huff, “Darcy’s gonna have your head one of these days ya know.” you told him as he simply laughed and moved to pick the towel up again, setting it carefully on the counter. He stood up straight, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he offered you another of his famous cheeky grins. God, you hated him sometimes.

“Aw come on don’t be like that, I’m not even that late” he shrugged, “Darcy can harp on me all she wants but we both know she won’t hurt a hair on my pretty little head.” He was being a cheeky bastard but he wasn’t wrong. As annoying as he was, Darcy loved him just as much as she loved you and even you couldn’t lie and say you had occasionally found Chris to be less of a dick than he made everyone think he was.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Chris,” you huffed, moving past him with a playful shove to his side, “There’s a pie in the oven already, by the way, thought I'd get one started before you decided to grace us with your presence.” He smiled and shoved you back a little before ruffling your hair a bit, laughing when you swatted at his hand.

“How mad is she?” he asked, voice a little softer this time and you turned back to look at him as you stopped at the door to the dining area. The grin on his face was gone, replaced with a sheepish look. Despite all his talk and his constant attitude, he cared deeply for Darcy just as much as Darcy cared for him.

“She’s not that mad.” you offered with a small smile before adding, “Mostly I think she’s worried about you.” This seemed to make him relax a bit and he nodded slowly, shifting backward to lean on the counter.

“I suppose you should send her in then so I can apologize.” he laughed softly and you nodded in agreement, pushing the door open a bit before looking back at him once more.

“Give her a hug when she comes in, that’ll butter her up a bit.” you teased and he laughed a little louder, a quiet thanks passing from his lips as you turned back to leave the kitchen.

As you had predicted there weren’t any customers except one man who was already seated in a corner of the diner, nose buried into his laptop as he sipped absently at a cup of coffee. Darcy was standing at the counter humming a little tune as she counted the bills in the register.

“Chris just got here”

She looked up for a moment confused and then annoyance crossed her face as her brows furrowed. She moved to massage her forehead again with a long sigh as she noticed the time, “What am I gonna do with that boy?” she asked, not expecting an answer from you.

She took a deep breath and stood up straight giving you a small smile despite her clear frustration, “Thank you, honey, I appreciate you letting me know, mind handlin the rest of this while I go talk to him?” she asked, though she knew your answer already. You nodded as she moved to place the money back in the register, shutting it with a little click before moving to walk past you, giving your shoulder a gentle pat on her way.

You’re shift went relatively slow after that, Chris occasionally poked his head into the dining hall to joke with you when Darcy wasn't looking, Ricky came in a little later than usual but he seemed just as bubbly as he always was as he chatted with you. You had managed to escape most of the teasing questions from both darcy and Chris and any nosey regulars.

Darcy let you take a longer break than usual for helping with kitchen prep which meant you got to dick around behind the diner playing on your phone with a cigarette between your lips. Chris snuck out at least once to join you, bumming a cigarette off of you when he realized he hadn’t brought his pack with him and inevitably Darcy came marching out the back door to drag you both back in, scolding Chris for sneaking off while on the clock and you for smoking again after telling her a few months before that you would quit.

You made your usual promise to quit smoking and she accepted it with a sigh, both of you knowing she’d probably catch you smoking again tomorrow. It was routine at this point. And it was comforting the way she believed in you so wholeheartedly even though you had broken the same promise a hundred different times. It was good to have someone who refused to give up on you.

Darcy had left nearly an hour ago by now, leaving you alone and incredibly bored for the remainder of your shift. Which also meant you were left to think about your mystery man. You weren’t sure how long you had been standing there anxiously waiting at the counter, biting at the inside of your cheek as you stared at the front doors of the diner.

A few customers came in here and there but most simply took their coffee to go and left you with nothing but a shitty tip to show for it. Normally you would have killed for a slow day like this but today you felt like your entire body was vibrating with energy and you had no idea what to do with it other than anxiously waiting for the man with the riddles to arrive.

You wondered if he even remembered the promise he had made you or if he had been expecting you to take him seriously. What if he didn’t even show up today? What if you weren’t even right about the answer to the riddle? You had no idea why you felt so desperate to impress a man you hardly knew.

Half the population of Gotham was made up of interesting and odd people of all sorts, what made this particular guy so interesting to you? Was it because of the way he always seemed to have his nose shoved into a crossword puzzle or the way he seemed so thrilled when he got the chance to ask a riddle or two?

Was it because of the awkward boyish charm he had about him when he looked up from his puzzles or his coffee and his glasses always seemed to be slipping down the bridge of his nose, lord knows you had stopped yourself from fixing them back into place on more than one occasion?

Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at the world and more specifically because of how he looked at you. It was like he saw straight through you. Did he see the rotting pieces that Gotham had sewed between your ribcage? Did he understand it? Did he feel it settling beneath his own flesh? Did he feel the changes coming to Gotham? Could he see the fire rising over the horizon ready to consume Gotham?

The familiar chime of the bell at the front door startled you out of your thoughts and pulled your attention quickly to the door. It took you a moment to remember how to speak when you recognized your mystery man standing in the doorway staring at you sheepishly as he let the door shut behind him.

Slowly he raised a hand to offer a wave and a small awkward smile and you couldn’t help grinning back at him as you motioned for him to join you at the counter. He shuffled closer, his cheeks a bit flushed from the chilly Gotham air as he sat down across from you, already shuffling to pull his crossword puzzle out of his jacket pocket.

You beamed at him, quickly setting to work pouring him a fresh cup of coffee as well as a slice of pie. He watched you curiously, a small smile playing on his lips as you set the coffee and pie in front of him.

“Did you solve the riddle?” he asked as he lifted the coffee mug to his lips peering over the rim of the cup with a curious fervor in his eyes. You nodded almost instantly eyes wild with excitement as you leaned over the counter slightly. You watched as his eyes went a little wide and listened as his breath caught in his throat as his eyes followed your every movement, tracing the curve of your back to the arch of your shoulders as you leaned toward him.

It made you feel dizzy, the way he looked at you like you were the only beautiful thing in this rotten world.

Finally, you answered, “Your Name.” He stared at you for another moment before a pleased smile formed on his lips.

“ I knew you would solve it,” he paused, eyes tracing back over your body once more before he met your gaze, “You are a clever one aren’t you?” he whispered like you were the only one ever meant to hear his praise. It nearly made your knees buckle as you grinned at him, cheeks flushing bright red. He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee, seemingly preparing to go back to his usual routine of crossword puzzles and shitty diner coffee.

You pouted for a moment, slowly reaching over to tap his wrist. He looked up at you feigning a confused expression at the way you furrowed your brows at him. Your cheeks burned a little hotter as spoke, “You… You said if I got the riddle right you’d tell me your name?”

He stared for what felt like ages before he finally smiled, you almost swore he looked a bit smug to hear the way you seemed so desperate for him to hold up his end of the bargain. “Ah… that I did.” he laughed softly at the way you nodded excitedly, “ My name is Edward.” he paused as if considering if he should offer his full name, “Edward Nashton,” he said finally, watching you intently.

You smiled, whispering his name quietly back to him, “Edward.” You watched as his adam’s apple bobbed and he held his breath for a moment, “Edward.” you said a little louder now, letting the name settle on your tongue. He let out a shaky breath, nervously pushing his glasses up.

“Am I…” his voice cracked at first and he coughed to cover it up,” Am I too expect a riddle to earn your name?” you could tell he was trying to sound playful but the way his voice shook ever so slightly wasn’t exactly helping. You shook your head, giggling softly as you pushed carefully off of the counter to stand up a bit straighter.

“I’ll leave the riddles to you Edward.” you told him with a grin playing on your lips, “My name is (Y/N)”

He let out another shaky breath, shifting nervously in his seat before offering you a timid smile, “You have… You have a very pretty name.”

You giggle and brush a loose strand of hair out of your face before tilting your head at him curiously, “So, Edward.” you let his name rest on your tongue for a moment, reveling in the way he flushed each time you said his name, “You got any more riddles for me?”

He looked at you as if you had just offered him the world, expression a mix of surprise and excitement at your question before finally settling on the excitement as he nodded, glasses shifting with every movement he made. You watched as he seemed to be searching for the right riddle to give you, a flash of mischief glittering in the green of his eyes once he finally came to a decision.

“What can run but never walk, have a mouth but never talk, have a head that never wails, and a bed that never sleeps?” the way he spoke when he asked you a riddle made you wonder if he felt most confident when speaking in riddles. It was sort of endearing the way he would light up when a puzzle was offered to him.

You snorted and crossed your arms, “Come on that one’s easy.” he stared up at you with a raised brow and an amused half-smile, “the answer us River.”

Edward chuckled and nodded, raising his arms to mock a defensive position, “Apologies I should have realized that would be far too easy for a Clever girl like you.” In truth, he had a feeling the riddle would be too easy, but he rather liked the way you perked up so quickly at his praise so he figured giving you a few easier riddles wouldn’t hurt.

You blossomed under his praise, cheeks reddening and eyes glittering with excitement. You leaned back over the counter again giving him a cheeky grin, “Give me another one.”

And so began a new routine for you and your mysterious new friend. For the last hour or two of your shift, he asked you riddles, offering praise for every correct answer, and light teasing when you missed the mark.  He seemed to enjoy teasing you almost as much as he enjoyed praising you and you really couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy it either.

You huffed, crossing your arms and pouting as you struggled to solve his next riddle. What is it that no man wants to have but no man wants to lose? You had guessed the answer was Job almost instantly earning you a little frown from Edward.

“Good answer but not the one I'm looking for.” he told you, “Come on, I know you can figure it out, or was I perhaps wrong about how Clever you are.”His smile was teasing but his tone held a darker edge that made you shiver. It was as if he was annoyed with you for not understanding it.

It was different from the way he made you feel each time he praised you, it was condescending and a bit degrading the way he pondered your intelligence out in the open. It should have angered you the way he implied you were stupid under the guise of a teasing challenge, but it only seemed to draw you further into the enigma of Edward.

Edward sat across from you, eating the last bits of his pie and working through his crossword puzzle while occasionally looking up at you with an amused smile. He seemed keenly aware of the effect his words had on you and you weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it.

“Remember what I told you,” he said suddenly pulling your eyes to focus on him, “Don’t let the Riddle trap you. Untangle the web and find the answer.” You found yourself hanging on to every word he said, even when they were even harder to understand than his riddles. It took you a few more minutes of pacing behind the counter and anxiously biting the inside of your cheek while sneaking glances at Edward every few seconds before finally, the answer came to you.

You lit up instantly, “Lawsuit.” you exclaimed loudly, ignoring the glare you received from an older woman on the other side of the diner. Edward grinned and clapped in a mock round of applause.

“I knew I wasn’t wrong about you,” he says quietly, more to himself than to you. You bounce on the balls of your feet and beam at him, glad to hear his praise once more. He stood a second later, wiping his napkin over his mouth quickly before setting it down on his now empty plate and began rifling through his wallet. You felt yourself grow anxious watching him pack up his things to leave, you wanted more time with him, more time to show him how clever you could be.

“Will you be back?” you ask before you could stop yourself, cheeks flushing immediately when he flashed you a teasing smile.

“Would you like me to come back?” he asked, voice trembling ever so slightly despite the smug look on his face. You nodded, worried your voice would betray you if you spoke. He chuckled, carefully folding his crossword puzzle into his pocket.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he paused to place his payment onto the counter, flashing you a mischievous look, “Would you like me to ask you more riddles tomorrow?”  You nodded again and he raised a brow at you as if waiting for a verbal answer.

“Yes please,” you whispered, a shiver running down your spine at the way his smile grew at your words.

“I will see you tomorrow Clever girl,” he said as he shuffled towards the door, shoving it open with his foot. You waved after him, watching him wave back through the window as he made his way down the sidewalk until you could no longer see him.

Edward's POV

Edward, however, did not go home as he normally would have, instead, he sat waiting in an alleyway across the diner watching his Clever Girl as she set about doing clean-up until her shift was over. He knew he should go home, he needed to get a few hours of sleep in before he went to work again.

More importantly, he needed to be planning for Gotham’s rebirth. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave, not yet, he just wanted to make sure she made it home safe. He needed to make sure she was safe. Gotham was a dangerous place for anyone but it was especially dangerous for women like her to be alone. She would thank me, he told himself, she would thank me for keeping her safe. She needs me, he decided, she doesn’t know it yet but she needs me just like Gotham needs me.

So he watched while carefully hidden within shadows as she moved gracefully around the Diner. He tried not to be jealous seeing her chatting with the few customers seated in the dining area. Didn’t she know how foolish it was to be so friendly with strangers? Someone could get the wrong idea. She was lucky she had him to look after her. She was lucky she had him around to keep her safe.

He wondered if she even realized how stupid she had been to let him into her life. Gotham is full of freaks silly girl. Gotham is filled with monsters ready to destroy pretty little things like you, he silently chastised her. I could destroy you, he reminded you in his thoughts. I will destroy you, he decided with a grin, but it's alright ill put you together again and we can watch Gotham burn together.

He should be angry with her. He should kill her for distracting him. He shouldn’t let himself get lost in her so easily. But he doesn’t want to stop. I deserve this, he tells himself, I deserve a reward for the work I am doing to cleanse Gotham. If there is any good left in Gotham, I should be the one to have it, I should be the one to protect it. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

He could feel himself slipping past idle curiosity and right into an obsession for the Clever Girl. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. She will understand. She will thank me for my work. She will throw herself to my feet and beg for my protection.

Voices from across the street pulled him from his thoughts, allowing him to watch as she stepped out the side door of the Diner, followed by a young man. He clenched his fists until his palms burned with the crescent-shaped divets that his blunt nails were forming against his skin as he watched you flash a smile a the man. It's just her coworker , he reminds himself, feeling anger rise in his belly.

Still, he remained hidden, waiting on bated breath as she finally stepped away from the man and rounded the side of the building to head down the sidewalk. Smart girl. Don’t let anyone else know you as I know you. She didn’t even know she was his yet and already she knew better than to let filthy men like that get close to her. He would reward her for that one day. For now, he carefully crept from the Alley to follow her, far enough behind her that she didn’t even notice him.

He was excited to find her apartment wasn’t all that far from his own. The building was old and needed some repairs, repairs that the landlord would likely never actually pay to get done. He would look into the owner of the building once he got home and he would likely add them to the list of Vermin that needed to be wiped from Gotham.

He watched as she stopped at the mailboxes lining the wall of the Apartments entrance as she shuffled through her pocket to pull out her keys. She fumbled for a moment before twisting a small key into the lock of a mailbox, pulling the little box open to reveal a few slips of mail. From where he stood none of the mail seemed personal, more than likely it was all bills.

It made him wonder if she had family, if she had someone who sent her birthday cards each year. Or if she was like him, born alone in this world of lies.  She understands. She has to understand.

He did not follow her as she stepped into the rickety old elevator shaft, instead, he waited in the entrance until the doors slid shut and he was sure she would not catch him as he slipped into the building to read the number on the mailbox he had watched her open. Apartment 6C. He stared at the mailbox for a moment before he finally turned on his heel and stepped back out of the building crossing the street once more, eyes scaling the building trying to find the 6th floor. Finally, he saw a light turn on through a window on the far end of the building and he watched as she walked past the window, completely unaware of him watching her from below.

Silly girl. You shouldn’t leave your windows open all the time. What if someone saw you? What if someone saw you and decided they wanted you?

He saw you and god did he want you. The palms of his hands burned as he dug his fingers into them, hands curled into fists as he watched her move around what he could only assume was her bedroom. He backed up slightly till he was hidden a bit better in an alley without even looking away from her window. His breath hitched as she began slowly unbuttoning her blouse, blissfully unaware of the fact that anyone could see her from her window.

He wondered if she did that often, changing in front of her open window for anyone to walk by and see. He liked to imagine that she knew he was down below watching her change. He liked to imagine that she was putting on a show just for him. He could already feel his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans and he barely gave it a second thought before he was checking his surroundings to make sure he was alone in the alley as he fumbled with his belt.

His eyes were back to her window as soon as he was sure the alley was clear and his pants and boxers were shoved down around his thighs. Her shirt was off now, tossed off to the corner of the room that Edward was unable to see, but he didn’t care, not when he could see the lacey little bra she had covering her chest. He nearly came at the sight of her soft breasts on display. He swore he could see her nipples through the lacey fabric. He imagined that you wore that for him, even though you had no idea he could see it. He hissed, biting his lower lip when his trembling cold fingers slid over the tip of his cock already wet with pre-cum.

God, he wished it was her touching him. He wished he had followed her up to her apartment. He could have shoved his way into her apartment before she could close the door. He wasn’t strong but he could take her by surprise if he needed to, besides she wouldn’t fight him.

She would beg him to touch her, to tear that pretty little bra from her chest and run his trembling hands over her soft skin. He gave the base of his cock a firm squeeze, sucking in a breathy whine as she moved out of sight for a minute. No no no no no, he whimpered to himself. come back please, please I need to see you please, he beckoned, thighs trembling with the energy it took to stop from thrusting desperately into his hand.

After a moment she returned to the window, finally allowing Edward to move freely as he watched her shuffle out of the skirt of her uniform, letting it fall to the floor revealing her pretty panties. He found himself grinning at the realization that her panties and bra weren’t matching, he had always assumed girls always wore matching sets, it's what the girls did in the porn he watched.

But his clever girl wasn’t like those girls in porn, she was real and she wore a pretty pink lacey bra paired with baby blue panties with a little ribbon on the front. He stored the image away in his mind for later, he would surely use it to jack off to later. He whimpered as his fingertips grazed over the head of his cock, he imagined what her hands would feel like instead of his own. Her hands were softer and smaller than his. He wanted to see what they would look like wrapped around his cock, giving him the release he craved.

He choked on a whine, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as she stood just barely within his sight and began unclipping her bra, letting it fall to the ground with her skirt. It didn’t take long for him to tip over the edge, spilling his cum into his palm at the mere sight of your tits. He sobbed, leaning heavily against the wall next to him, legs shaking as his spend dripped onto the ground. His eyes did not leave her even as he cried pathetically to himself, covered in his own cum in a dark alley, until she moved from the window, tugging on a large worn-out T-shirt. She turned out the light of her room without so much as a glance out her window and a part of Edward wished she would have noticed him. One day he would make her see him and he wouldn’t ever let her look away.

Edward did not move from his spot curled against the wall until his legs stopped trembling and he was sure his Clever girl was safely tucked into bed, blissfully unaware of his perversions. His hands still shook as he wiped his palms on the front of his jeans. He shivered as he pulled his boxers and pants back up around his hips, pinching his fingers while fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He glanced up at the window again as he stepped out from the alley. He stared for a moment as if waiting for her to appear once more in the window to beckon him upstairs to join her in bed.

Someday he would do just that, he promised himself.  But for now, watching from afar was all he could ask for and more and he was content to remain like that. There was much to do before he could bring her into his life the way he so desperately wanted to.  Finally, with a sigh he turned down the street towards his own apartment, occasionally glancing back at her apartment until all he could make out was the outline of it among the other buildings.

He would be back, he would savor his time watching her from afar until he was granted the opportunity to take her completely. He would save her from the rot that threatened to consume the people of Gotham and the two would one day be reborn in the flames of Gotham’s new era. Nothing could stop him.

#batman 2022 #dano riddler #edward nashton #the riddler #incel riddler #riddler x you #riddler x reader #riddler x y/n #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #justcallmeangel fic tag #fanfic #batman 2022 fic #nsft #nsft fic

[just-call-me-angel]

i check everyday for chapter 5 of little miss loser please i am begging you angel post it im on my knees

Im working on the next update I promise!! Just been having a bit of a rough day rn so I might not post it until tomorrow!!! I honestly was not expecting Little Miss Loser to get so much love, but i am very glad so many people are enjoying it

-angel

#angels asks #just ask angel #just angels answers #little miss loser #justcallmeangel #justcallmeangel fic tag

[just-call-me-angel]

My word, you are all so very clever! I'm glad to see so many of you solving the riddle so quickly. Perhaps I'll need to give you more of a challenge next time ;)

Next update for the Clever Girl Series should be out tomorrow sometime 💚

#fanfic #dano riddler #danonation #justcallmeangel #justcallmeangel fic tag #just angel's thots #angel's stuff and things #angels updates