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#went down the road and got a soda and I’ve been sitting in my driveway contemplating for the last 2.5 hours
floral-hex · 2 months
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woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.
#tumblr ate something like this but I think I deserve to shout uselessly into the void#shits rough dawg#I know it’s rough for everyone. I feel shitty even talking about myself. still… compelled to vent… big butts#haven’t really been on here much since it hasn’t really scratched that itch lately & just makes me feel lonelier#it’s cold#saw the Jazzercise studio open across the street. 5am for Jazzercise? wow. early.#and then everyone left an hour and a half later. lights out. everybody gone. weird schedule. I am perplexed.#went down the road and got a soda and I’ve been sitting in my driveway contemplating for the last 2.5 hours#guy at the gas station tried to talk to me but I just half assed a smile and nod and left#even though I know I’d love to just… talk to someone. I suppose it has to be ‘on my terms’ whatever those are#I miss having a therapist. or even just when my little brothers would talk to me. when anyone would. blegh#my insurance is still a mess and I’m about to run out of one of my blood pressure meds this week#maybe I’ll have a stroke. scary to think about. I think about dying a lot but that potential feels too real. just… pop! and I’m done.#I’ll try today to finally push to straighten it out but everything feels daunting#woke up with so much anxiety. about my health. my hearing. no money. my life. had to get out of the house even if it’s just right outside#hate to say it but I need(want) thc. haven’t wanted to spend money on it but I could have really used it this morning#can’t be sad if you can’t feel anything (jokingly but also not. whichever is less sad sounding)#actually treated myself to Dune 2 last week and it was so so good. wish I could go again. but it’s drugs food or movie right now. so…#I know. dumb priority but BIG SCREEN. maybe it’ll hit theaters again for the next awards season hopefully. just a real nice loud experience#anyway… I should go inside. almost 7am. need to take my brothers to school then drive my mom to her daily appointments#I’ve felt so hollow and angry and sad for so long it feels like. I feels so weak and sad and I’m tired of it. I’m so tired.#I’ve been eating about 1 meal a day and sleeping a lot. this is the worst my body has ever been. I feel like I’m just waiting to die.#is this relatable?#just have to look past it. it is nothing. this body is nothing. just enjoy your soda.#gonna look at pictures of butts now#ok gotta go I love you goodbye forever#you can ignore this#text
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rodr1cks · 3 years
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Sick Day | 2.1k
fluff!! you’re sick and rodrick comes to the rescue.
warnings: vomit, being sick in general
All day you had been feeling extremely ill. The nurse at school was being impossible and refused to send you home, despite your pleas.
“Please Mrs. Williams, I feel terrible you have to believe me!”
She was extremely skeptical, “Child, do you know how many times I hear that in a day? You don’t have a fever, back to class.”
And just like that, you were dismissed. Sent to endure the rest of your classes in misery.
The day went by painfully slow after your trip to the nurse. The fluorescent lights berated your pupils making it impossible to concentrate and worsening your headache.
It was sixth period, the last class of the day. Also your least favorite class of the day. You couldn’t stand the teacher. Mr. Wright. He was your classic asshole history teacher.
You were completely zoned out, trying to focus on not vomiting. Your name being called pulled you out of your haze.
“Miss y/l/n? Do you care to answer me? Unless you’re busy of course.”
Condescending bastard.
You held your tongue, swallowing any smart-ass comments that threatened to spill past your lips. You cleared your throat.
“I’m sorry, what was the question.”
He went through the whole “this is a learning environment” lecture after that. Again, you didn’t listen. You couldn’t have even if you wanted to. Thankfully, he left you alone after that.
Finally, the last bell of the day sounded through the school. You lept from your seat and ran to the bathroom. You practically body slammed the door open. Luckily, the bathroom was empty, most kids having already filed out of the main doors, eager to begin their weekend festivities.
You were hunched over one of the white porcelain bowl, tears filling your eyes.
Today could not get any worse.
After taking a few deep breaths, you were able to compose yourself enough to exit the bathroom.
You crossed your fingers, hoping that the halls had been completely evacuated.
You crept through the empty corridors and out into the parking lot. You were especially dreading the walk home today.
You were walking through the parking lot, enjoying the fresh air when you saw him. Rodrick Heffley.
The two of you were best friends in elementary school but you drifted apart after a while. You honestly developed a certain distaste for him, as he had you.
Please don’t notice me, please don’t-
“Y/n!”
Shit.
“Rodrick!” you feigned enthusiasm.
His brow furrowed, “You look… paler than usual?” You rolled your eyes, classic Rodrick. You wanted this interaction to end, immediately. “Yup. Not feeling well.” You deadpanned, providing little detail.
Rodrick hesitated for a moment, “Well, let me drive you home, kid.”
Kid. Who did he think he was?
“I think I’ll pass, weather is nice today.” The weather was far from nice.
“Oh really, the weather is nice, y/n? Where are you right now? Because it’s raining where I am.”
He sighed, “and I also saw that little performance Mr. Wright gave you...”
Oh so he pities me.
“Rodrick, If I get in your van will you stop talking?”
He motioned, pretending to zip his lips up and throw away the key. A small smile spread across your face but you didn’t let him see that.
A few minutes into the drive, you decided you were glad you let him take you home. The sky had opened up and it was storming.
Oh God.
“Rodrick, pull over, now.”
He looked over at you and could tell what was about to happen. He pulled over quickly and you opened the door. You leaned over and vomited right onto the grass patch parallel to the road, in the pouring rain.
Coyly, you returned to your seat in the van. You were unsure if you should apologize, so you stayed silent.
“Y/n, are your parents home?”
He knew they never were. Ever since you were a kid, your parents had been anywhere but home. Business trips, vacations, retreats, you name it.
You looked down at your shoes, water dripping from your hair, and shook your head.
“Alrighty then, change of plans.”
You protested, “Rodrick that’s really not necessary I’ll be fine.” Part of you knew there was no point in arguing. If he was one thing, it was stubborn.
He reached out, placing the back of his hand on your forehead to prove a point, “Y/n, you’re burning up. You’re coming with me.”
You were closer to his house anyways. That’s how you justified it, at least.
His van pulled into The Heffley’s driveway. Rodrick got out and rushed around the vehicle to open your door.
“Come along, y/n. I know somebody who will be very happy to see you,” he grinned.
The front door swung open and you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. The Heffley’s house was always warm and always smelled spectacular. Somehow, Mrs. Heffley was always baking or cooking something.
“Y/n? What a nice surprise this is!” Mrs. Heffley beamed. She had always loved you. “How I’ve missed seeing your face around here!” She said, placing her hands on your checks.
“You’re soaking wet!” You nodded awkwardly in response. “And goodness, you’re burning up! Are you feeling alright?” She felt your forehead and cheeks, then squeezed your shoulders gently.
From a young age, Mrs. Heffley had looked after you as one of her own. Nothing had changed it seemed.
“No, actually,” you smiled half-heartedly. Mrs. Heffley frowned at you. “Rodrick, get her some dry clothes, would you?.” Rodrick nodded, leading you up the stairs.
You stood in his room, obviously uncomfortable. He was knelt in front of his dresser, digging around for something.
“Ah! Here it is.”
Rodrick whipped out a t-shirt for you to change into. He grabbed a pair of black sweats from another drawer as well.
“Here you are, mademoiselle.” He stuck out the wad of clothing in your direction. You couldn’t lie, you were happy to have some dry clothes to change into.
You stepped into his bathroom, taking a moment to examine your appearance. You looked rough. Intense bags hung low under your eyes and you truly did look more pale than usual. Fantastic.
You emerged from the bathroom, Rodrick’s clothing drooping slightly from your frame. Rodrick was sitting on the end of his bed and he patted the surface.
You joined him on his twin mattress, only because you were exhausted.
“Rodrick, why are you being nice to me?”
He looked guilty. “You’ve had a rough day, y/n…”
He sucked in a breath, “...and y’know I’ll always care about you.”
How could he still care for you? You completely wrote him off when high school began.
“Listen, y/n, the past is in the past, okay?”
A genuine smile appeared on your face. Before the moment could become too sentimental, Rodrick interjected.
“Oh! Be right back,” he chirped.
He ran downstairs and came back with an orange soda and some cold & flu medicine.
Rodrick explained himself, “Orange! Like, vitamin C, right?” He looked too happy with himself, you couldn’t bring him down. At least his heart was in the right place.
Concealing your laughter to the best of your ability, you accepted the beverage and medicine from his hand.
You hated this kind of medicine with your whole heart. The orange soda could be useful honestly, just not for its nutritional value like Rodrick intended.
Rodrick measured out the appropriate amount of the medicine for you as you cracked open the can. He handed you the small cup full of the thick, red liquid.
You threw back the grotesque cherry flavored solution, grimacing as it coated your throat. You chased the medicine with the orange soda. See, it did come in handy.
You leaned back into Rodrick’s pillows, trying to relax.
About fifteen minutes later you felt extremely drowsy. “Rodrick, can I see that bottle?”
“Uh, sure,” he said, confused.
You read the bottle and instantly threw your head back in annoyance. “Rodrick this is the drowsy kind!” You continued inspecting the bottle, “and it’s extra strength!”
With each second passing, it got increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open.
Everything was blurry and you were teetering between consciousness and sleep.
“Rodrick,” you slurred. “I’m so sorry I stopped talking to you… stopped being your friend. Felt like I wasn’t cool or pretty enough… didn’t deserve you.”
Rodrick was extremely confused. You thought you were too good for him? He had to hold back a laugh.
He couldn’t conceal his smile, “Excuse me? Y/n, that must be the nyquil talking.” He rolled his eyes and brushed off your comment, contemplating the sentiment for a mere moment.
You eventually drifted off, unable to ward off sleep any longer.
When you woke up, you first noticed rodrick. He was sitting on his beaten up couch with his headphones covering his ears. You could hear the muffled baseline from your spot across the room.
How are his eardrums still intact?
Rodrick had a shoebox on his lap and he was shuffling through the contents, smiling to himself.
You cleared your throat, obtaining his attention.
“Oh, y/n! You’re up!” He smiled at you, ripping off his headphones.
You nodded slowly, knuckling your eyes sleepily.
“What time is it?”
Rodrick glanced at his watch, “It’s only 8:30.” You nodded again, continuing to rub the sleep from your eyes.
Rodrick stood, picking up the box and walking over to you. “Look,” he said softly. You peered down into the small shoebox and numerous photos and letters.
“This one here is my favorite,” he said quietly. It was a picture of you and Rodrick at the roller rink. You recognized the photo immediately.
“Seventh grade kick off,” you smiled. You took the box from his lap and began looking through each photo, braided friendship bracelet, concert ticket.
You laughed as each item brought back memories you had long forgotten.
You stopped at a photo of the two of you dressed up in ridiculous outfits. You wore a sequined hat and Rodrick held his drumsticks in hand.
“Was this when we saw Good Charlotte?” You asked.
He giggled, “It sure was. I remember thinking I looked so hot that night. Guess not huh.”
“What are you talking about, you looked incredible Rodrick. Seventh grade me was dying to jump you right then and there.”
His face lit up, “Really?”
“No,” you flashed him an expressionless look before breaking out into side-splitting laughter. He joined you.
You missed this feeling of pure, unadulterated joy. Rodrick was the only person who you had truly experienced that with.
You sighed to yourself. Come tomorrow, you’d be back to strangers. Tears welled up in your eyes and your lip quivered. Rodrick was oblivious until a single tear drop fell onto the photograph below you.
He immediately tried to comfort you. He placed an arm around your shoulder, dragging you into his larger frame. It caught you off guard but you allowed yourself to melt into his touch.
Rodrick distracted you from your sorrow. “Look at this one right here.” It was a photo of you and the Heffley Family in their backyard. You and Rodrick were around fifteen, if you remembered correctly.
“This was the day that I realized I had a big, fat crush on you.”
He followed up, “S’lame I know…”
Heat flooded your cheeks, this time the heat was not a result of your illness. Was it anxiety? Happiness? Both? You couldn’t decide.
“You never really explained why you stopped talking to me and coming by my house.”
You shrugged at him, feeling like your explanation would make him mad. “Well, Rodrick, you started getting new friends. Friends that were better than me or cooler than me.”
“Y/n that is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I could never replace you. To this day, nobody’s ever come close.”
He gave you a playful smack over the head.
“...anyways, to be honest that crush never really went away?”
Before you had time to process the sentence he was gently grabbing your chin, turning your head.
You were facing him now, your lips only inches away from his.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Y-yeah, yes, I think so, yeah.”
He laughed at you and leaned in slowly. Rodrick used one finger to gently move your hair out of your face.
The kiss was gentle and filled with emotion.
You felt like you hadn’t known what you were missing out on until that moment. You felt completed.
“Oh shit, I better not get sick!”
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You’re My Home 4
Catfish x OC
Part 4: Movement
Word Count: ~7.2k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Warnings: Smut 18+, oral (f & m receiving), fluff, Nita and Frankie being corny as fuck, hints of a suit kink?
A/N: I’m sorry this took so damn long. My brain has been pretty fried these past few months. Hopefully, this was worth the wait.
Summary: Frankie goes to Nita’s place for the first time. They get interrupted in the middle of something. Frankie learns a few things about himself, and they get to make up for a few things they’ve missed out on since they started dating.
AO3 | Masterlist
~*~*~*~
“You know, I’ve lived here for a while and it still surprises me how fucking big Travis County is,” Frankie said, tapping his fingers as he looked out at the houses they drove past. “Are we still in Austin?”
“Honey, we’ve only been driving for twenty minutes.” She glanced over at him with a smile. “We’re still in Austin.”
He shrugged, unable to prevent a little smile of his own. “I just don’t think I’ve ever really come this way. Nothing looks familiar and it’s throwing me off.”
Nita hummed. “And I thought you drove all over for your supply transports. Figured you’d know the county like the back of your hand.”
“Nah. I go to maybe five different places total,” he said with a chuckle. “They occasionally throw in somewhere new, but I can’t say I’ve had to drive past many mansions.”
“I don’t believe that for a second. Everything’s bigger in Texas,” she said matter-of-factly.
He turned to look at her again, silently raising an eyebrow until she caught his eye and he watched her fight to keep a straight face.
“I can kick you out of this car, Frankie,” she threatened, but he heard the amused note in her voice.
“Nope. You like me too much.”
“Oh?” She glanced his way, eyes narrowed. “Is that right?”
He pursed his lips. “Maybe. Maybe not. This is the first time I’m visiting your place, so…”
“I swear…” She shook her head as she looked ahead at the road, a smile tugging at her lips.
A grin stayed on his face, even as he turned his attention back out the window. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he glanced back over at her. “Where are we heading, anyway?” He gestured to the large houses on either side of them with a smirk. “Is one of these yours?”
“No, we’re heading to Spanish Oaks.”
“Spanish Oaks,” he repeated, frowning in concentration. “I’ve heard that somewhere before.”
“Gated community,” Nita supplied, “right around Barton Creek.”
He gave her a surprised look. “Gated? That sounds pretty fancy.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it is. I think it’s nice. Some of the people in the area are snobs though, which can get frustrating.”
“I can only imagine,” he said, shaking his head.
~*~*~*~
After passing through the main gates into Spanish Oaks, Frankie and Nita got wrapped up in discussing their favorite ABBA songs, which quickly turned into the two of them listing their favorite artists from the 70s, all because they’d caught the tail end of “Dancing Queen” when Nita turned the radio up a bit.
The discussion also distracted Frankie to the point that he hadn’t been paying attention to much outside of the car until Nita parked in her driveway and they were both getting out.
“I’m just saying, I like Billy Joel just as much as the next person, and I will absolutely sing along to “Piano Man” whenever I hear it, but I have to go with Stevie Nicks,” he stated, brows raised. “Fleetwood Mac has been my go-to for pretty much my whole life.”
Nita shut her door behind her and went to open the back. “Alright, I completely understand that. Now, just consider—” she held up a hand as she paused. “Stevie Wonder.”
Frankie pursed his lips thoughtfully, lifting his hat to scratch at his forehead. “Well, shit.”
“Exactly!”
He just snorted and shook his head at her. “Yeah, yeah.”
Nita slung his duffle bag over her shoulder and pushed the door closed with her hip. As she walked back around the car, she looked over to find Frankie staring up at the house.
“What?” she asked.
He blinked incredulously. “This is where you live?”
She frowned. “Yes. Why?”
“Nita, this is a mansion,” he told her, shifting his wide eyes to her.
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “It’s a big house, but I don’t know if it qualifies as a mansion.”
“It’s a mansion.”
With a sigh, she started making her way to the front door. Frankie took another second to gaze at the house before he was following her.
“Are you the only one that lives here?” he asked as she unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“Yep. Just me.” She kicked her shoes off onto a mat just inside the door and he did the same. “I’ll have people over for parties or movie nights sometimes. Anyone too tired or drunk to make it home is free to crash in the bedrooms or on the couches. It’s nice when I have guests, y’know?” She made a face. “Even if the clean-up gets a little iffy.”
“Oh? Are those some potential stories I hear?”
Nita flashed him a grin. “They might be. You’ll just have to stick around for a bit to hear them.”
“I don’t think I’ll have any problems with that,” he said, smiling right back.
“Such a flirt,” she mused. “Let me go drop this off in the bedroom really quick.”
He watched her walk down the hall with his duffle bag, leaving him in what he assumed was the living room.
There was one of those big, L-shaped sectionals and two plush looking chairs facing a TV. It was definitely a big space, but it didn’t quite fit what he would’ve expected the inside of a mansion to be like. It wasn’t minimalistic or particularly grandiose. Apart from the sheer amount of space, it was fairly normal. Neat, but still personal, with pictures on the walls and mismatched knick-knacks almost overcrowding the shelves. A stack of mail on the coffee table, next to a little set of coasters. Instead of a tasteful throw, there were what seemed like three different, brightly colored blankets haphazardly folded over the back of the sofa.
It just felt like Nita’s home.
Frankie turned back toward the hall when he heard her coming. She brushed by him as she made her way into the kitchen.
“Do you want a drink or anything?” she asked, opening up the fridge and grabbing a can of ginger ale. “I have Coke, orange soda, some La Croixs, ginger ale.” She turned to him with raised brows.
“I’m fine for right now,” he said, taking the room in as he walked around the bar. “Thanks, though.”
He glanced over at the table, which sat right between the kitchen and the doors that led out to the backyard. There was a nice looking patio area and—
“Is that a pool?”
“No, it’s a flooded half-pipe.”
Frankie shot her a look that made her laugh as she grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets. “Yes, it’s a pool.”
He just shook his head again, shuffling over to the kitchen table. Pulling out one of the chairs, he eased himself down, trying not to bend forward too much as he did so. “We spent all that time in my shitty apartment while you had a place like this.”
“And who’s the one that kept inviting me over?” she said, giving him a look. “Besides, we’re here now.” She walked over to the table and stood in front of him, setting her glass down. She smirked as she cupped his face and bent to kiss his cheek. “So stop whining.”
“I’m not whining,” he huffed, even as he leaned into her kiss.
“Sure.” She pulled his hat off and set it backwards on her own head, moving to peck his lips.
He reached up for the hand on his face, taking hold of her wrist lightly and trailing a thumb over her skin. “I’m not.”
Smiling against his lips, she slid a hand into his hair. “Right.” She was standing between his legs now, eyes shut as she kissed him.
“Sit?” he offered quietly, breaking away to look at her.
Her fingers trailed along his jaw. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He squeezed her wrist and grinned. “I think I’ll be okay.” His free hand moved up to her hip, pulling her forward.
She scoffed but did nothing to hide the way the corners of her lips rose as she straddled his lap. Both of his hands dropped down to her hips and she scooted closer, not quite pressing flush against his chest.
He rested his forehead against hers, brown eyes warm. “Hey,” he said softly.
“Hi,” she whispered, fingers combing through his hair before she bit her lip. “Y’know, I feel a little stupid for not really putting it together that Frankie is short for Francisco.”
Shifting in the seat a little, he shrugged a shoulder. “Everyone has always just called me Frankie. Or Catfish, after I joined the army.”
She made a face. “God, why did you guys get such shitty nicknames?”
“Fuck you,” he said, chuckling.
She kissed his lips again as she laughed. “At least Jack isn’t as much of a stretch.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a stretch? Juanita to Juan, Juan to John, John to Jack?”
“It was about the fucking Billy Joel song,” she said with a scoff. “That other shit was just to connect it more to my actual name.” She let her nails drag over his scalp, earning a contented sigh from him. “And I like your name. Francisco sounds nice.”
His face was beginning to feel warm and he had to shift in the chair again.
Nita leaned back, hands leaving his hair and resting on his shoulders as she looked him over, concern in her eyes. “You okay? Was I leaning on your chest too much?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m alright. Just trying to get more comfortable.”
“You sure?” she asked, kneading his shoulders gently.
“Promise,” he said, squeezing her hips. He tilted his head forward, hiding a grin. “I like it when you play with my hair.”
She gave a gruff “necesitado” and moved back into place, running her fingers through his hair once again as they leaned into each other. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty, Francisco.”
Heat spread down his neck and he tightened his hold on her hips to adjust her on his lap, suddenly registering the fact that he was getting hard. He shifted his hands so that his thumbs rested above the waistband of her jeans and brushed her bare skin under her shirt.
She tugged his hair just enough to make him lean back, fixing him with a knowing look. “Now I see why you’re getting restless,” she said with a coy grin. “Don’t get too excited, honey, you’re still healing.”
“My lips aren’t bruised,” he said, pouting slightly for emphasis.
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, pecking his lips again as she smiled. “You’ve got me there, Francisco.”
They both felt how his cock twitched that time. He glanced down.
Oh.
He looked up to find Nita’s eyes shining mischievously.
Oh.
“Interesting,” she said lowly as his face flushed. “And I thought it was just the hair.” Her grip on his hair tightened a bit and she leaned in to capture his mouth fully, his hands sliding down to hold her thighs. She didn’t press into his chest, but used her elbows on his shoulders to push him against the back of the chair and to steady herself as she slowly rocked her hips.
He groaned, squeezing her thighs and pushing them wider to get her that little bit closer. His instinctive buck up against her shot pain across his ribs, making him grunt softly before he focused on staying still, savoring the way she ground down on his lap.
“You feel so good, Francisco,” she whispered against his mouth, grinding slowly over the erection in his jeans.
His low moan seemed to fill the kitchen, only ending when she deepened the kiss. She trailed her fingers along his scruffy jawline, her tongue brushing his and coaxing more muffled groans out of him as he moved to cup her ass with both hands.
As much as he enjoyed the moments like this, a part of him was already bracing for the inevitable guilt that always showed up before they could get very far. Tension pulled across his shoulders no matter how much he tried to relax them, even as his mouth and hands moved fluidly with her.
“Of all the times to learn a new turn on,” she said, bringing her lips to a spot under his jaw as she tugged his head back further, “had to be while you’re all banged up.”
He let out a wheeze of laughter, eyelids fluttering when her teeth grazed over his pulse.
She scooted back on his lap a fraction, one hand leaving his hair and he made a disappointed sound in the back of his throat.
It was quickly replaced by a sharp gasp when that hand pressed down on his cock, making him jolt in the chair. He let out a gravelly “fuck” and tightened his grip on her.
Frankie could feel her smiling against his neck. A firm squeeze had him moaning her name and shifting his legs wider. She smoothed her hand over him, slowly stroking him through his jeans as she rolled her hips against one of his thighs.
“Good?” she breathed against his throat.
He squeezed her ass again, groaning “Yes.”
She pulled back slightly, giving a satisfied hum, and looked him over. His eyes were closed, brows raised a bit, lips parted. She could see the slight flush on his face and neck, as well as the spot along the side of his neck that was a shade or two darker, right where she’d been focusing her attention.
One of his eyes peeked open, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Be better if you were kissing me again,” he mused.
“You getting mouthy with me, Francisco?” she teased, pressing her hand down on him a little harder.
His eyes squeezed shut again as he held back another moan, voice coming out strained. “Maybe.”
She leaned in again, gently nipping his lower lip. “It’s probably not a good idea to ride you right now,” she whispered into his mouth.
His responding moan was almost pained.
“But,” her hand slowly trailed up from his crotch to his belt buckle, “I can always suck your cock instead.”
“Fuck, Nita,” he breathed, one hand coming up to tangle in her hair and pull her mouth to his in desperation.
It was her turn to moan softly as she relaxed in his hold, fingers still working at his belt. The warmth of his palm where it cradled the back of her head made everything feel molten and electric. His fingers nudged the hat up a little higher on her head.
She’d just gotten his belt undone when they were suddenly jolting apart at the sound of her phone ringing on the counter.
Nita cursed, throwing a glare toward her phone. She turned her attention back to Frankie even as she moved off of his lap, offering him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ve been waiting for a call about an order that’s supposed to come in today.”
He just gave a dismissive wave, still catching his breath. “It’s fine. I should—” he cleared his throat, running a hand down his face and through his hair, “I should probably take a shower anyway.”
“Okay.” She leaned down to press a softer kiss to his lips. “I am sorry, honey.”
With one last shared look, she turned around and went to snatch up her phone.
Frankie sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and trying to calm his racing heart before standing up to go take that shower.
It was while he was actually in the shower that he realized something. Even though things had ended right around where they usually did, he didn’t feel the lingering cold or heaviness that tended to take up space deep in his chest whenever he and Nita got a little intimate. He’d gotten so used to bracing for that guilt that it took him a while to notice that it hadn’t crept up on him this time.
In that same space, he just felt a warm sort of buzz instead. And it was a very welcome change.
~*~*~*~
After Frankie got out of the shower, Nita gave him a quick tour of the house. He was working very hard to keep his jaw from dropping open, especially when they went upstairs and walked into the movie theater. There was a movie theater in the house!
Around 5 o’clock, Nita started getting ready for work, having decided to get there early to make sure everything was going smoothly with the stuff that she had ordered and to have it at least mostly set up before the club opened.
Frankie spent most of that time making sure he understood how the big flat screen in the living room worked. He could barely figure out how his phone worked a lot of the time, and this TV seemed even more complex than that.
“You have to hold down the button on the bottom left. It just has a line on it,” Nita was instructing him, having to yell from the master bedroom.
He scowled at the remote in frustration. “It’s not working!”
“Hold it longer!”
After holding the button for longer than one second, the menu he was looking for appeared at the top of the screen. “Oh.”
Nita walked out of the bedroom a moment later. “Did you get it?”
“Yeah,” he said sheepishly, glancing her way, “thank you.” Then, he was doing a double take, mild embarrassment forgotten as he watched her walk by the back of the couch.
She was wearing a suit. A three-piece, navy suit that fit her very well. There were silver cufflinks that matched the silver tie-clip, which was clipped to the burgundy tie that matched the burgundy pocket square. It all looked very good on her.
“Do you—do you have a business meeting?” There was the faintest waver in his voice.
Shuffling through a small stack of papers on the kitchen counter, Nita didn’t seem to notice the change. “No, this is just what I usually wear to work. I thought I mentioned the suits,” she said.
“You did. I just…” he shook his head, still staring. “You look nice.”
She flashed him a sweet little smile. “Thank you. I feel nice.” Exchanging the papers for her car keys, she made her way over to where he sat on the couch. “You look nice, too,” she told him, leaning down to give him a quick kiss that made his heart skip.
“Yeah, an old t-shirt and jeans are incredibly fashionable,” he said, chuckling.
Rolling her eyes, she let her fingers brush through his hair. “Just because you’re wearing comfortable clothes doesn’t mean you look any less nice.”
He smirked. “You might be a little biased.”
“I thought you said I didn’t like you because it’s the first time you’ve seen my house.”
“Nah, I know you like me. Why else would you put up with my technological struggles?”
She laughed. “You know, it makes me feel a little iffy about the whole army pilot thing,” she teased.
“Helicopters make sense, though.” He gestured toward the TV. “This shit is made to be confusing.”
She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “TV add-ons exist to antagonize you, hmm?”
“They do!”
She just shook her head, looking him over with fond amusement. “Just try not to break it, okay?” Her nails gently grazed his scalp and the sensation swept down his spine. “There’s all kinds of stuff in the kitchen whenever you decide to have dinner. I made baked spaghetti the other day and there’s leftovers if you’re interested.” She bent to give him one last kiss. “I need to get going. Call me if you need anything, alright?”
He grinned up at her. “I’ll be fine. What time are you getting back?”
“I usually make it here a little after midnight,” she said with a shrug. “Not exactly a normal workday sort of business.”
“I’ll see you then.”
She gave a small wave as she headed toward the front door. “See you. And make sure you rest!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he called back, sneaking a look at her retreating form when she turned away.
As soon as the front door closed behind her, he groaned, letting his head fall against the back of the couch as he covered his face.
That fucking suit.
~*~*~*~
He spent most of his time wandering around the house or lounging on the couch with a movie. At one point, he thought about trying to play a video game, but given that he hadn’t really touched one since Santi found a copy of Halo to play using a base’s XBox years ago, he wasn’t terribly confident in his ability to set it up.
The pain meds he’d been sent home with were making it easier to get up and move around without much incident, but he wasn’t going to be doing toe touches anytime soon. He also wasn’t able to comfortably pop his back, which was a far more pressing annoyance.
He didn’t realize just how much time had passed until his eyelids were drooping and he couldn’t focus on the movie he’d put on anymore.
Nita would get back soon, so he brought his dinner plate to the sink and threw out his empty can of orange soda. He made sure the few dishes were washed before he shuffled into the bedroom to change and get ready for bed.
It was while he was brushing his teeth that he heard the front door open and the faint jingle of Nita’s keys.
“Honey?” she called.
“Bathroom,” he replied, voice slightly muffled by toothpaste before he spat into the sink.
He didn’t think to brace himself before she walked into the bedroom and stopped in the doorway of the en suite. One glance toward her and his eyes went wide just like they had before she left, heart rate rising.
Jesus Christ, she wore this sort of thing every time she went to work? He was going to lose his mind while he was staying with her.
She seemed amused, brows lifting at his reaction. “What’s that look about?”
He just shook his head, feeling a little warm in the face as his eyes dropped back down to the sink.
She walked into the bathroom and stopped at his side, brushing a hand across his shoulders as she leaned a hip against the counter. “What?” she prodded gently.
He rinsed off his toothbrush, taking a few seconds to respond. “You look nice.”
“You said that before I left, Frankie,” she said, smirking as she played with the curling hair at his nape.
“I know.” He turned to her, jaw rocking as he tried to convey himself. “I really mean it.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay…”
Sighing in frustration, he reached out to draw her closer and rest his hand in the curve of her waist. The corners of her mouth lifted as he gazed down at her. “When you said that you wore suits to work,” he said, voice low, “I didn’t realize just how sexy that would be.”
“So, that’s what the look was about,” she mused.
His eyes drifted down to her lips. “Yeah.”
She rose up just enough to press a warm kiss to his lips, still twirling his hair around her fingers.
When they broke apart, she smiled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
~*~*~*~
Sleep lingered for a while, leaving him to slowly drift closer to consciousness. He was comfortable, he knew that much. The sheets smelled clean and familiar. The people in the apartment upstairs either weren’t up yet or they had already left, and he considered himself lucky for that. They made so much noise in the mornings and he always felt bad about that when Nita stayed over.
Nita.
As more awareness crept in, he felt the subtle weight pressing against his arm. Opening his eyes felt like a Herculean task, but he squinted over to his left.
She was on her side, facing him, clearly still asleep. Dark hair surrounded her head, a few strands that had fallen in front of her face were now gently disturbed with each breath. One hand was tucked against her chest, the other lay curled against his arm.
He turned his head toward the nightstand to check the time, frowning when his alarm clock wasn’t there. When did he buy a new lamp?
He settled further into consciousness and turned back to Nita. Right. They were at her place now.
Carefully, chest twinging and aching with every move, he rolled onto his side to look at her. The meds he’d taken before falling asleep were clearly wearing off, but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much yet.
His hand covered hers, thumb brushing over her knuckles and tracing her fingers. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here. After the big downward spiral that had happened a little over a year ago, he had been existing in anxious monotony, just waiting for the next thing to knock his feet out from under him.
In a way, he was still waiting for that. Getting hit so hard with bad memories that he’d put himself in the hospital wasn’t exactly an improvement. As bad as that had gone, as bad as that could have gone, the brunt of it only took up one morning.
And how many mornings had been like this, these last few weeks? Where he felt reluctant to leave bed, not to avoid the day, but to have just a few more minutes of quiet with her. They could just lay here and enjoy each other’s warmth, stay tucked close until the last possible moment.
Maybe, something that had gone missing from his life wasn’t quite missing anymore.
Nita stirred, her hand twitching under his as she shifted closer. Her eyes barely opened before falling shut again. “Morning,” she mumbled.
He grinned, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “Good morning.”
Her eyes opened again, staying that way this time, though she was still squinting against the dim light. “I like your morning voice,” she informed him, lips quirking up.
“My morning voice?”
“Mm-hmm.” She gently freed her hand from his hold and trailed her fingertips up his arm. “Soft and raspy and deep. It’s nice.”
He flushed a bit, reaching to brush the hair out of her face and letting his hand settle against her cheek. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “And I like your morning voice too.”
“Sap,” she whispered, smiling against his palm.
“You started it.”
She laughed.
He’d never get enough of her laugh.
“How are you feeling? Do you need to take something yet?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’m alright for now. I’ll take something once we make coffee.” His thumb lightly traced her lower lip and he could feel her watching him before he brought his eyes back up to hers.
“Francisco,” she breathed, gently kissing the pad of his thumb.
It warmed him from the inside out and he was leaning in before he knew it.
Her lips were soft and moved with his languidly, setting a slow and leisurely pace. He could feel himself sinking into it when the kiss deepened, unhurried as he explored her mouth, hands roaming down to skim over her bare thigh and grip her hip.
Her hands were in his hair, combing through the stuck up and messy curls. She scooted closer and he wrapped both arms around her, ignoring the burning ache across his ribcage.
She shivered when his hand slid under her shirt, fingers brushing up her spine, a low moan muffled against his mouth.
He was becoming increasingly aware of an entirely different ache, this one making him consider adjusting his boxers, but he decided against it since that would mean letting go of Nita.
His heart skipped when her knee nudged up by his hip, not quite hooking around him, and he swiftly gave in. “I want you,” he groaned, a hand cupping her ass and drawing her closer.
She didn’t miss his slight wince at the move, shaking her head and holding his face in her hands. “We can’t do that, honey.”
“Fuck,” he grunted, leaning his forehead against hers. They were both breathing a little heavily, one of his hands still under her shirt, drawing circles over her back. He let out a long exhale and shifted back enough to meet her eyes, biting his lip thoughtfully. “What if...you sit on the edge of the bed? And I’ll kneel on the floor?”
Her brows shot up. “Oh?” She moved closer again, glancing down at his mouth. “Is that what you want?” she asked.
He nodded, lips parting as she kissed him again.
“I want that, Francisco.”
He peppered kisses across her face, drawing that laugh out of her again, before he slid back and off  of the bed, easing down onto the floor with a wide grin.
She shuffled over, sharing his smile as she arranged herself on the edge of the bed. “Do I need to take anything off? Not really wearing much to begin with.” She traced a finger down his nose.
He smoothed his hands down his thighs before he trailed them up her calves. “I’ve got it,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of her knee.
She leaned back, holding herself up so she could watch as his lips trailed slowly from her knee and up her inner thigh, his touch featherlight across her skin. As he moved higher, she let her thighs fall open wider, chewing her lip. She sucked in a breath when his teeth grazed her skin, his eyes meeting hers.
Kissing him had already gotten her started, but then having him offer to get on his knees and eat her out had ensured that she was thoroughly turned on. Now, just seeing it, feeling him work his way closer, was only adding to the arousal that was steadily burning through her.
The scruff along his jaw added just enough roughness to set her nerves alight and draw out quiet sighs, making her eyes slip shut.
He was almost where she needed him when he began pressing hot, open kisses to her inner thighs, his tongue a soothing contrast to the faint nips and scratch of facial hair.
“I didn’t realize you were a tease, honey,” she crooned, tangling a hand in his hair.
He chuckled, breath huffing over her skin. “Just want to be sure.”
“I’m very sure.”
“Alright,” he laughed, “point taken.” One more soft kiss and he was leaning back, letting her legs close before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down her legs.
He shuffled closer, drawing one of her thighs up over his shoulder and making her flop onto her back with a laugh. “You are so gorgeous, baby,” he said, brushing his cheek against her inner thigh and locking eyes with her as she smiled at him.
“Totally a sap,” she teased, making him roll his eyes and grin as he leaned in.
The first brush of his tongue had her sliding both hands into his hair. He pushed her thighs open wider, delving between her folds with a groan. His mouth was so hot against her, tongue scorching with each lick over her pussy.
The tip of his nose brushed her clit and her hold on his hair tightened in response. He moaned, pressing deeper into her pussy and skimming his hands along her thighs. She tensed and relaxed under his hands, body shifting with every tilt of his head as he worked her over.
Arousal warmed her skin, pleasure tingling through her and slowly coiling tighter and tighter. She leaned her head back into the mattress, lips parting with a faint huff.
He brought his attention to her clit, his mouth going soft, tongue laving gently as her back arched.
“Fuck,” she gasped. “Just like that, Francisco.”
Nita tugged on his hair, sending pinpricks of pleasure down his spine. Sucking her clit between his lips, he traced the tip of his tongue over the bundle, her responding moan filling the quiet room and setting off a little spark of pride within him.
The heel of her foot pressed into his back, drew him impossibly closer, and he was happy to give in. He opened his eyes, taking in the sight of her, arched and breathless. Lifting her other thigh up onto his shoulder, the muscles trembling faintly, he slid a hand up her side. He stopped at her breast, tracing her nipple through the thin sleep shirt.
She moaned his name, covering his hand with one of her own and rolling her hips to meet his face. “So fucking good,” she praised. Her grip on his hair tightened further, pulling a moan from him. The vibration made her shiver, adding another level of stimulation right against her clit.
His tongue dipped back down and slid into her pussy as he buried his face between her thighs, mouth fully engulfing her.
“Yes, Francisco,” she breathed. “Close.”
Frankie was already long gone, breathless with the need to tip her over the edge, the way she moaned his name and writhed under his mouth completely fogging his mind with pleasure. He swiped the tip of his tongue across her clit, adding more pressure until the prickle of her hold on his hair turned sharp and her thighs tensed around his head.
The sound she made as she came almost had him following suit. He kept going, bringing the pressure back down slowly, softly kneading her breast. When she was moaning quietly, limbs almost entirely limp, he finally sat back, panting. The burning ache across his ribs was nothing compared to his contented happiness.
He let his gaze trail over her. Skin flushed and warm, her chest still heaving, eyes closed and lips parted as she came back down to Earth. Her thighs still spread open and pussy in full view, shining with her arousal, same as his face.
She pushed herself up slowly, running a hand through her own hair and meeting his eyes with a satisfied smile, which he returned.
“I always like waking up to you, honey, but that was…” Nita sighed, leaning her head back. “Fuck.”
He chuckled under his breath. “That was my application for the boyfriend position. How’d I do?”
“We’ll definitely take you under consideration.” She bit back a grin, lightly knocking her foot against his thigh.
He huffed playfully. “Damn. Really thought I’d get it with that.”
She giggled, reaching out to comb through his hair, which she’d thoroughly ruffled. She leaned down closer to him. “After further consideration, it’s been determined that you don’t need to apply for a position that you already hold.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Now, are you gonna kiss me?”
He closed the small gap between them in answer, cupping her face and winding his fingers into her hair.
She groaned softly at the taste of herself on his lips, hands brushing up his arms. She could feel him smile into the kiss just before they broke apart.
“Do you still have that fancy coffee?” he asked.
She almost snorted. “Our minds are in two very different places right now.”
“I can be thinking about more than one thing at a time.”
“Oh, yeah?” She squeezed one of his shoulders.
“I should wipe my face,” he mumbled.
Her hands came up to cup his jaw. “Should you?”
Exhaling slowly through his nose, he touched his forehead to hers. “Honey…”
“Okay, you do things your way,” she said, drawing back. “But if you’d like an idea of what I want to do…” She tilted her head, throwing a very pointed look downward.
He was quick to stand up, grunting in discomfort for more than just his chest, a blush warming his cheeks as he tried to discreetly adjust himself on his way to the bathroom.
Reappearing a moment later with a damp cloth and a clean face, he wiped away the bit of slick he’d gotten on her face when they kissed and then brought the cloth down between her legs. He made quick work of cleaning her up, but suddenly slowed.
She thought he was just being overly gentle until the cloth brushed, rather deliberately, against her sensitive clit.
Nita cursed, slapping his hand away while he laughed. “You’re the one who wanted coffee, payaso.” She swatted at his ass when he turned to drop the rag into the hamper. “Vamos!”
He gave her a pout, saying “I’m not a clown,” as she stood up to pull her underwear back on and follow him out of the bedroom. He reached back to offer his hand, which she took after a moment, rolling her eyes.
“You’re something.”
He grinned, the dimple in his cheek immediately making her own expression soften. “Soy el novio,” he said cheerily.
She squeezed his hand. “Sí lo eres.”
When they got to the kitchen, he stopped and pulled her close. “I don’t know where the coffee is,” he told her.
She pointed. “The cabinet over the coffee maker.”
His gaze fell on the coffee maker and he nodded. “Right.” Shuffling over, he opened the cabinet and started pulling things down to get the coffee ready.
“Frankie.”
He glanced back at her. “Yeah?”
“I can make the coffee,” she said, smirking.
He just shrugged. “I got it.”
She watched him measure out beans and put them in the grinder for a few seconds. Next thing she knew, her gaze had shifted from what he was doing to just admiring him. Unruly hair that was just a little too long and so incredibly soft, broad shoulders under an old t-shirt, toned arms that, based on her own experience, were perfect for falling asleep in, long legs that were just as nice, along with what she considered to be a very cute little butt.
She crossed the short distance to him right as he poured the ground coffee into a filter and set it in the coffee maker. She wrapped her arms around him, mindful of his ribs, and kissed his shoulder. “I have a proposition.”
“Alright.”
“I got that call about the shipment yesterday,” she began slowly.
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Yeah?”
“We got interrupted.” She let her hands move down a few inches. “And I’d really like to pick up where we left off. Do what I was gonna do before the call.”
The warm flush from earlier returned full force as he swallowed hard, trying to wrap the bag of coffee beans back up. “Yeah?” he repeated, voice straining.
She hummed, hands now tracing the waistband of his boxers. “What do you think?” One hand lowered the slightest bit further. “I couldn’t help but notice that you looked a little stiff when we left bed.”
He’d slowly been bringing himself down, cock starting to soften as he ignored it to keep her from feeling like she had to return the favor. He’d been wanting to make her feel good since that first night at his apartment, and he got a lot out of knowing he’d done just that before they’d gotten out of bed.
But now he was aching all over again. “I think—I think you’re the tease now.”
“Let’s fix that,” she said softly. She reached further and cupped him through his boxers, giving him a firm squeeze.
His mouth fell open and he gripped the edge of the countertop, a rough moan rising up from deep in his chest, his eyes falling shut. She carefully turned him around so he could lean back against the counter, readjusting her hold on his cock as she pressed her lips to his throat. He opened his eyes, lids feeling heavy with lust as he blinked down at her.
She seemed very pleased with his reaction. “You are very good with that mouth, honey.” She rose up higher, kissing the corner of his mouth before lowering her voice. “And the fact that eating me out made you this hard is so fucking sexy.”
He rested a hand at her hip. “Jesus, baby…”
Her lips brushed along his jaw as she traced her thumb over his clothed length. “I want to suck your cock, Francisco,” she whispered near his ear.
“Please,” he ground out.
Nita pulled back with a coy grin. Without wasting another second, she tugged his boxers down and slid down onto her knees. Her nails lightly dragged up along the outsides of his thighs as she kissed from his hip bones inward. She took hold of him, steadying his heavy cock and running the flat of her tongue over the head, glancing up into his eyes.
Two dark, lust blown gazes met and Nita closed her lips around the head of him, sucking gently. He could feel himself throb, his grip on the counter tightening as arousal burned through his veins.
It had been a while for him. He already felt so close to the edge.
The tip of her tongue pressed into the underside of his cock, just under the crown, and he cursed, a hand reaching to slip into her hair. Her pleased hum sent jolts of electricity across his nerves. She bobbed steadily, taking a bit more of him into her mouth each time. He was almost dizzy when he reached the back of her throat, biting his lip hard.
She looked up at him again, watching the tendons in his neck stand out as he strained to keep himself from losing it. His eyes were closed and he was trying not to breathe too hard. As she drew back, she couldn’t help but smirk a bit.
She worked her way back down his shaft until he was at the back of her throat again. Then, she kept going forward, taking him deeper until her lips were wrapped around the base, nose pressing into the coarse hair just above it.
Her jaw ached and her eyes were watering, drool sliding down her chin. But it was beyond worth it when she swallowed around his cock and he made the most breathtakingly broken sound she’d ever heard.
His whole body trembled at the feeling, brow furrowed and mouth dropping open.
She drew back far enough to breathe, pressing her tongue up against the vein that ran along the underside of his shaft, and cupped his balls in one hand.
On instinct, his fingers tangled further in her hair and he gave a slight, jerky thrust of his hips. He gritted his teeth. “Shit, baby, I’m so—“
She took him down her throat again, gently massaging his balls, and his voice died. His whole body buzzed with pleasure and he couldn’t hold back when she swallowed this time. He came undone with a low moan of her name, knuckles white where he gripped the counter.
She drew off of him slowly, taking everything he gave until his shoulders sagged in blissful relief and his knees were close to giving out beneath him.
They were both panting, her sitting back, teary eyed with spit around her lips and chin, him leaning heavily against the counter, head tilted back. Nita got to her feet after a moment and grabbed a napkin to dab at her eyes and wipe her mouth. She also took the liberty of pulling Frankie’s boxers back up his legs, patting his hip as she smiled up at him.
“So. Coffee?” she asked, voice a little rough.
Frankie huffed a laugh, pulling her into a lazy kiss.
~*~*~*~
Taglist
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~ Mike
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skullrock · 4 years
Text
the partners, chapter two - Steve x Reader
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chapter two: there is a light that never goes out
series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff] 
chapter summary: You and Steve grow closer; you and Steve are called in to investigate a death
warnings: swearing, panic attacks, mention of death
word count: 3.3k
a/n: things are heating up boys!! next chapter will really kick off the cop stuff. if you haven’t seen it, here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. enjoy!
---------
The rest of the week rolls by without many incidents. By the time Friday comes, you’re beaming with excitement.
“We’re still on, right?” You ask him Friday morning, bouncing on your toes.
“Y/N, for the fifteenth time, yes,” he laughs. “I’m not bailing.”
He kind of wishes he could – he hasn’t been able to sleep. He can’t stop worrying. What if this is a mistake? What if you get hurt? What if this all backfires? He can’t let you know this, though, and he’s been grinning through the week.
“Great, do you know where I live?”
“Three streets away from me, Oak Street, the big white house.”
You tilt your head. “How did you—”
“You’re the only person in town with a Walter Mondale sticker on their bumper,” he replies. “I saw your car in your driveway.”
Steve had moved out of his parent’s house about one week after securing the position at the station. His parents had graciously gotten him an “apartment,” which was in fact a nice house in a good spot in town. They paid his rent as a form of gratitude that he was “getting his life together”. He hated that idea, truly, but was happy to be able to live on his own, only worrying about groceries. He was a lot happier now that he was on his own – specifically that he was not living with his father. He did see his mother though, and pretty often, because she would bring him a lunch every few days.
“Creep,” you say, smiling. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”
“Y/N, we have an eight hour shift ahead of us.”
“Whatever. I’ll see you all day and then tonight.”
---------
Steve pulls up around 6:30, and he’s sweating bullets. He honks once, then waits. He finds himself checking himself out in the rearview mirror, and then quickly jerks his head away. It must be some kind of knee-jerk reaction, Steve thinks, picking up a girl feels like a date.
You come out of your house and lock the door, then bolt down the steps to his car. He can feel the energy radiating off of you.
“Hi,” you say as you slip inside.
“You look nice when you’re not wearing a uniform,” he jokes.
“Funny. I was going to say the same about you.” You buckle up and he sets off for Mike’s house.
“Now that you’re hanging out with my friends, am I going to hang out with yours?” he asks.
You deflate slightly. “Well, that’s the thing,” you say quietly, examining your nails. “I um. I don’t really… have any?”
He looks over at you, forehead creasing at your body language. “You don’t have any friends? That’s gotta be bullshit.”
“I did,” you explain. “But then I went to college and I lost touch with people from high school. And then I came back and I lost touch with people from college. So, I really don’t…” you sigh heavily. “Hang out with people.”
He swallows hard. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. If I knew –“
“It’s okay,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault or anything. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.” You smile and lightly punch his arm. “Since I managed to crawl into your life.”
“Well, you’ll really like the kids,” he says. “Let me give you the rundown.”
He begins to explain all six of them. Dustin Henderson, his best friend, has a bit of a lisp and some disease that “makes him like Gumbo? Gumby? Whatever.” Mike Wheeler, party leader, bit of a drama queen, loyal friend. Lucas Sinclair, funny one of the bunch, dating Max, the redhead, is emotionally mature despite his comedic exterior. Max Mayfield, redhead extraordinaire, metaphorically adopted sister of Steve, super intelligent and strong. Will Byers, “you already know him,” kind and quiet, has been through a lot, deserves the world. Then there’s El.
“El is… different.”
“How?”
“Well…,” he sighs. “She… comes from a bad home. She was… she comes from a bad home. They did bad things to her.”
“Oh.”
“But she’s really great. I’m trying to teach her how to read before she and Will go back to Maine for school. She’s dating Mike, they get along pretty well. She’s really smart, just behind since she never got to go to school.”
You nod. “They all sound like phenomenal kids.”
“They are,” he replies thoughtfully. “Sometimes they’re a pain in the ass, but they’re my pain in the ass.”
You pull into the same large house on Maple Street that you had a few days before and hop out. You’re feeling a bit antsy – so is Steve.
“Wait,” you say. “Doesn’t Nancy live here?”
“Oh.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, but we’re cool. We still talk to each other. And she’s probably out with Jonathan anyway.” He clears his throat, and you reach out and squeeze his arm. “I’m okay,” he laughs. “Come on, let’s go.”
The kids remember you from the other day, and your friendship with Steve helps convince them that you’re a good person. You get along together immediately, laughing and joking like you’re all old friends. Steve beams and Dustin nudges him, making Steve shove him.
“We’re watching The Goonies tonight,” Lucas says, producing the VHS.
“What’s a goonie?” El asks.
“It’s like, a silly person,” Steve explains. “Like Mike.”
Mike rolls his eyes. “We can’t start yet, Robin isn’t here.”
You nearly choke on the soda you were drinking. “Robin? Robin Buckley?”
As if on cue, the door to the basement opens and Robin comes down. You jump up and shout her name. She looks at you, confused for a brief moment, then smiles widely and bounds over to you.
“Oh my God!” you both shout as you embrace. You try to ask each other questions, but they all come out at the same time, making you both laugh.
“Are you going to tell us how you both know each other?” Steve asks, brows drawn together, but smiling, nonetheless.
“We were in band together!” Robin exclaims. “I thought you died or something, you never called!”
“I lost your number when I moved to Indianapolis,” you explain, squeezing her hand. “But I’m back now. I’ve been back for a few months. I work with Steve, at the station.”
Robin snaps her head over to him and glares, making him sink in his seat.
“None of us knew,” Max pipes up. “That Steve works with someone, I mean.”
Robin closes her eyes and shakes her head. She looks back at Steve with a we need to talk kind of look, then turns back to you. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
As the night goes on, you grow more and more comfortable with everyone. You sit and talk to Robin while the rest of the gang plays Monopoly. You could mirror the movie to how the kids act – it’s like they are the Goonies. You watch as they all bicker, Max shoving Lucas over stupid jokes, and El grabbing onto Mike, leaning into him. You watch as Will and Dustin barter with each other, and as Steve calls them all out for “cheating,” which is code for “I really suck at this game and need to explain why I’m losing.”
Your eyes focus on Steve while he explains something to El. It makes your chest swell. It feels like the only thing you can focus on his Steve. How bright his eyes are while talking to his friends, how his brows flit together then part as he laughs. And his laugh. It’s the only thing you can hear, and the sound rings in your ears. He looks up at you and smiles, then goes back to looking at the game board. You snap out of your trance.
“Oh, ew.” It’s supposed to be said in your head, but you say it out loud.
“What?” Robin asks. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah!” you say after a moment. “Yeah, sorry. I just got a little, uh, sidetracked. So, um, are you planning on going to school anywhere?”
Soon enough, it’s one in the morning, and the kids are getting tired. You are, too, and you yawn loudly.
“Let’s go, sleepyhead,” Steve says, holding out his hands to help you off the couch. You take them, swallowing the electricity in your stomach.
“You should come by more often!” Dustin grins.
“Yeah, we need more girls around,” Max says, and you smile back at her.
“You’re welcome in the party anytime,” Mike declares, and the others agree.
You could almost cry at how nice they are. “You guys will never know how… how much…” you sniffle. “How much this night has meant for me.”
“Okay, okay,” Steve says, rubbing your back. “Time to go, buddy.”
“You guys are the best!” you say through tears, and Steve shushes you gently, guiding you upstairs.
“Steve!” Dustin shouts, and bounds up behind him. Steve rolls his eyes and tells you to head out to the car.
“You better bring her around again.” Dustin squeezes his arm and Steve rolls his eyes once more.
“We mean it!” Will says. “She’s cool.”
“You guys don’t even like me this much,” Steve huffs, to which Robin replies, “Yes, because you’re a dingus. Y/N is cool.”
“Goodnight!” Steve groans, continuing upstairs.
He unlocks the car and you both get in.
“Thank you,” you whisper, eyes shining, “for taking me out.”
“Of course,” he hums. “Next time it can just be us, without kids and Robin.”
Your stomach flips and you ignore it again. “I’d really like to.”
You both make conversation as you head down the darkened streets. You think the town at night is beautiful and serene. Steve thinks it’s eerie and threatening. He really didn’t like going out at night much anymore, and he typically had to talk himself up if he was leaving somewhere past 9 pm. You notice the change in his energy, how he is suddenly gripping the steering wheel a bit too tight.
You begin to ask him if he’s alright, but a deer scampers across the road. It’s not very close, and maybe required just a slight brake, but Steve throws his arm out to pin you to your seat and slams on the brakes. The car slides to a halt and you slam back against the seat; thankfully Steve threw his arm over you, or you’d probably have a severe case of whiplash.
When the car stills, you look over at him, eyes wide and heart skipping. He looks like he aged 50 years in ten seconds. His eyes are huge, jaw clenched tightly. A crease on his forehead. His body is stiff and he is leaning forward, almost like he’s about to fight. He looks, quite honestly, like death.
“Steve,” you breathe. “Are you okay?”
Steve throws the car into park. He squeezes his eyes shut and blinks a few times, eventually relaxing in his seat. Although his body is relaxed, you can hear how his breathing is a quick staccato, not slow. He runs a hand through his hair once, twice, three times. It sounds like he’s drowning, and his eyes are filled with tears when he looks at you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’m sorry – I thought –“
His eyes can’t focus. They run around in his head, back at the road, to you, to the steering wheel, to his hands, to the road again.
You realize he’s having a panic attack.
“Hey, hey,” you coo. “Look at me, Steve.”
He faces you, but his eyes are still moving rapidly, and his breathing is becoming quicker. You see him swallow hard.
“You’re safe,” you say, reaching out and taking a hand. “It was just a deer. You’re safe. I’m here.”
He nods stiffly. “No – I know that – I just thought….” I just thought it was a Demogorgon. No big deal. He clamps his eyes shut again and you see tears fall.
“Steve, look at me. Focus on me, okay?”
He nods lightly and does, and you see his pupils focus in on you.
“Breathe with me, alright? In and out.” You exaggerate your breathing, deeply in through the nose and out through the mouth. He tries to keep up and pace himself, but it takes a few tries.
“You’re doing great,” you say quietly, and squeeze his hand. “Can you pull the car over for me?”
He does as you ask, eyes scanning the road ahead. His bat is in the trunk (he figured he should hide it before you see it), and he considers getting out to grab it. You pull him back to reality.
“Look at me.” His eyes meet yours again. “I’m going to teach you something, okay? It’s based on your senses. Can you tell me five things you hear?”
He blinks. “I hear the engine… I hear your breathing… I hear the radio… I hear my breathing… I hear my heart beating.”
You nod. “Okay, good. Four things you can see?”
“Uh….” His eyes flick back to the road and you gently pull his head back to look at you.
“I’ll focus on the road, okay? Just tell me four things you see in the car.”
“I see you… I see my hands… I see the steering wheel… I see the light from the stereo.”
“Three things you smell?”
“My cologne, your perfume, gasoline.”
“Two things you can feel?”
“Your skin and the seat under me.”
You smile. “This one’s tough. One thing you can taste.”
Steve pauses. “Coca-Cola?”
“Perfect,” you say, squeezing his hand again. “Do you feel better?”
He does; he’s not fully grounded, but he’s feeling better than he did a few minutes ago. He can breathe normally again, and his body is a bit more relaxed. He nods and you let his hand go.
“You’re okay,” you repeat. “You’re safe.”
“I’m okay,” he breathes. He reaches up and wipes his eyes, laughing slightly. “I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize.” You don’t really know what just happened, but you know whatever he’s going through must be tough. “Your feelings are valid. It’s okay to feel that way, Steve.”
Steve sighs heavily, and after a few minutes, he puts the car in drive.
“Don’t take me home,” you request. “I can walk.”
“What? No way. I’m taking you to your house.”
“Steve,” you say. “Sometimes you need to take care of yourself before you take care of others. I can walk, dude, it’s only 15 minutes, max.”
He wants to refute your claim. He wants to believe he’s strong enough to just take you home and forget about it all, but all he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep until the afternoon. He just wants to forget. So he pulls into his driveway and shuts the car off. He sits there for a few moments before finally saying, “I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”
“Steve.” You can’t help but to laugh. “I haven’t been this happy in so long. I don’t care – I don’t mind that you got… spooked. And we don’t ever have to talk about it again. I don’t care what happens as long as I’m with you.”
The corners of his mouth perk up. “Oh no, Y/N. Don’t fall in love with me.”
You roll your eyes and nudge him, smiling. That’s the Steve you knew.
You reach into the center console, finding an old receipt and a pen.
“Here,” you say, scribbling. “Here’s my number.” You shove the receipt towards him, and he takes it.
Steve writes his number on the bottom of the receipt and rips it off. “And here’s mine. You better call me when you get home. Like, the minute you go through the door.”
“I promise.”
You both get out of the car.
“I really did have fun,” you say. “I hope I see you soon.”
He nods. Part of you wishes he would say it back, but you understand. As you’re walking off, he calls after you.
“Y/N!”
“Yeah?”
He licks his lips. “Thank you.”
You give him a tight-lipped smile and salute, continuing off into the night.
---------
You awake Monday morning at 1 am to your phone ringing. You quickly sit up in bed and grab it.
“Hello?”
“Y/N.” It’s Steve. “I need your help.”
Your eyebrows knit together, and you look at your clock. “Are you okay?”
“I….” He huffs. “I’m trying to make danishes for everyone at the station? But everything I do is wrong, and there’s flour everywhere—”
“It’s one in the god damn morning!” You exclaim. “We have work in seven hours.”
“Yeah,” he says, like you’re the idiot. “Why do you think I’m making them now?”
You close your eyes. You want to be annoyed, but it’s honestly hilarious. “Okay, Steve. I’ll be there in a few.”
You arrive and knock on the door, and you’re greeted by Steve. He is covered in flour, and he looks nearly as stressed as he was Friday night.
You gawk at him. “What—”
“Just – come in,” he insists, grabbing you and pulling you inside.
Steve has a really nice house. Or apartment, or whatever he wants to call it. He takes you through the living room, then dining room, and into the kitchen, where there is even more flour. It looks like a bomb went off.
“So,” he starts, pacing around the kitchen, creating tracks in the flour-covered floor. “I’m trying to make these, right? And it says to put flour and butter into a blender. And so I did. And like, it’s fine, it’s going great, but then I guess I added too much flour, and now it’s everywhere. And this fucking dough is supposed to chill for 6 hours and we have work in 7.”
“Where is your recipe?”
He hands you a sheet of paper and you scan over it.
“Steve,” you groan. “Are you even following this?” You look up at him. “How did you even manage to mix the yeast and water correctly?”
He leans on the counter and puts his head in his hands. “I don’t think I did.”
You burst into laughter. You can hardly keep yourself upright. Your ribs and jaw hurt, but you can’t stop. Steve seems annoyed at first, but then starts laughing with you.
“No matter what, you couldn’t have these done in the morning,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Why did you think this was a good idea?”
He shrugs hopelessly. “I just wanted to be nice, and I couldn’t sleep.”
You both resolve to cleaning up and starting again. You would make the dough and let it chill, and then continue making them that night.
You watch from afar, giving Steve tips and reading the directions out for him. He’s not super helpless when someone is directing him. When it comes time to fold the dough, though, he’s doing it wrong.
“No,” you say, jumping up and coming behind him. “You fold like this.”
You take his hand and help him get the technique right. After a few moments, your cheeks start to burn, and you feel that same chest-swelling feeling that you had at Mike’s house. You slow your movements and Steve follows, until you completely stop. He turns back to look at you, and you notice how close you are to him.
Suddenly, the phone rings. Steve drops the spatula he was using and hurries off into the living room, looking paler than usual.
“Hello?” you hear him ask. There’s a long pause before he says, “Do you want Y/N to come too?” Another pause. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”
He comes back into view and looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“Who was it?” you ask, heart beating fast.
“It was the Chief. There’s a dead body at Rimborn Steelworks.”
--------
tags (message if you want to join!): @harrington-ofhawkins​ @wolfish-willow​ @gothackedalready​
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Driving Too Late
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A/N: The idea for this one came from the wonderful @not-that-kinda-gurl08​
I stood with Nick and Matt in the driveway, shading my eyes with my hand. The bright Southern California sun beat down in its summer glory. A brilliant blue sky spread out in all directions. It was a perfect day. A calm day.
           Weather wise, at least.
           “Are you two sure you’re ready for this?” I asked. I stepped back to glance inside the house. Ty, now six, was napping on the sofa. RJ, at eight, and Lee at ten, were playing Mario Cart on the Switch. Nicole was in her room, going through those sullen bouts that most thirteen-year-olds experienced. And Mattie…
           She was pacing a little way down the driveway, driving test pamphlet in her hands.
           “It’ll be fine,” Matt said, waving his hand. “It’s not like we’re taking her on the freeway, Y/N.”
           “She’s a good driver,” Nick replied, crossing his arms as he watched his eldest.
           I looked down at my eldest—now sixteen and ready for a driver’s license. I couldn’t believe that she’d gotten so old so quick. It seemed like just yesterday she was begging Nick to toss her into the pool for Matt to catch.
           “She might be, but I know how you two are. Why can’t just one of you go?” I looked between them, raising a brow.
           “Trust us, Sunshine,” Nick said, tucking his arm around my neck and pulling me close. He kissed the top of my head and rested his cheek against my hair. “This is a big thing for us. It’s a Dad’s job to teach a kid how to drive.”
           I glanced at Matt, meeting his dark gaze. “Are you sure you two won’t fight in the car? I know how you are with directions.”
           My dark-haired husband grinned, and I could tell by the wistfulness in his eyes that he was remembering the same moments that fluttered through my mind. The two of them trying to put together a swing set in the backyard. Putting together a three-foot-tall princess castle for Christmas. Buying Mattie a hamster. So very many moments where the two of them, with the best of intentions, couldn’t communicate clear enough to get a job done. It was amazing—as well as they communicated in the ring, they’d had some serious miscommunications outside of it.
           “We’ve prepared for this,” Matt assured me, glancing at his brother. “I promise, Mama. We’ll all three come back in one piece.”
           Anxiety settled in my chest. “Please be careful. Please.”
           I felt Nick’s lips on my hair again. Matt came close and pressed a kiss against my neck. “We promised you a long time ago,” Nick murmured, “that we’d always come back to you. And we are never breaking that promise.”
           “Come on,” Mattie huffed as she hustled up the driveway. She was practically bouncing on her toes. “Dad! Papa! Let’s go.”
           Matt smiled indulgently. “We’re coming, Tea. Just a minute.”
           “Go,” I said softly. Even as I worried, I gave them a gentle push toward her. I looked at my little girl, my daughter who wasn’t so little anymore. “Be careful. And stay calm, no matter what foolishness your dads get into!”
           She grinned and snapped a salute. Nick tossed the keys to his old Nissan at her, and she snatched them out of the air with ease. That car was twenty some years old and had Lord knew how many miles on it. I was honestly surprised the thing ran as well as it did, but it made a good learner car. “Love you, Mom!”
           “Love you too, Tea,” I called back as she slid into the driver’s seat. Nick sat up front. Matt slid into the back, scooting until he was right in the middle. I watched as they put their seatbelts on, as she adjusted the mirrors. She took a deep breath and squeezed the wheel for a moment before starting the car and easing slowly out of the garage.
           My mother’s heart pounded out of my chest. I was consumed with pride at the person she was and a sadness for the little girl who was no more.
***
           “Take a few laps around the tennis court first,” Nick said, pointing his eldest toward the open gate. He was surprised at how calm his heart was beating in his chest. He’d thought that there would be more anxiety, more fear at putting his daughter behind the wheel. “Papa and I took the net down this morning. Just don’t hit the basketball goals.
           Mattie took it slow, both hands gripping the wheel, back rigid.
           “Don’t ride the brake, Tea,” Matt said calmly. “Just ease off the gas.”
           His daughter bit her lip, nodding. The car rolled smoothly down the inclined driveway. She hovered her foot over the brake as they neared the curve that lead toward the main road. Matt looked up the hill to the left. Nick did the same.
           “I can’t see around the curve,” Mattie said, a tremor in her voice. Her fingers gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles going momentarily white.
           “Ease on the brake,” Nick instructed, turning a little so he could face her. “Move up a little at a time until you can see.”
           “But don’t go out so far that you’re in the road. You don’t want to get hit.” Matt watched his daughter in the rearview mirror, seeing the fear etched on her face.
           She nodded and the car jostled to a stop. Nick bounced forward, his seatbelt snapping tight before he could go too far. Matt put out both hands and grabbed the back of each seat, stopping his forward motion.
           “Shit,” Nick swore under his breath. His heart was suddenly pounding, and he was sure there would be a welt on the side of his neck later. “Ease on the brake, Mattie. Not slam, ease.”
           “Sorry, Dad,” she replied sheepishly. For a moment, the fifteen-year-old thought she was going to cry.
           Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Tea.” He smiled and shook his head, surprised at what he was about to say. “What did Patrick tell Spongebob about driving?”
           Nick snorted. Mattie grinned, turning to look at her Papa over her shoulder. “Big toe.”
           “Big toe,” Matt replied. “Now eyes on the road. Let’s go.”
           After a deep breath, the car moved forward again. Her next stop was a little smoother. When she reached the place where she could see around the curve, she looked left then right then left once more. She pulled out into the drive they shared with the other houses on the hill, slipping smoothly down until she reached the turn toward the tennis courts.
           Blinker on, she took the turn and pressed the accelerator. They’d opened the gate to the tennis courts that morning when they’d taken down the tennis nets, so she had an easy time negotiating past the posts and up onto the concrete.
           “Alright,” Matt said, “let’s see that three-point turn.”
***
           I couldn’t hide how nervous I was. Nicole came out of her room to get a bowl of chips and saw me sitting at the table, staring out the window. She sank down on the bench next to me and put her head on my shoulder.
           “Tea’s with Dad and Papa. She’ll be okay, Mom.”
           A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. Soon it was followed by more, streaming down my face until I could hardly breathe. “It’s not that, Bug,” I hiccoughed.
           “Don’t call me…” She stopped when she realized I was crying. “Mom?”
           I tried to catch my breath. My hand pressed against my chest, as if that pressure would ease the aching in my heart.
           “Mommy? Are you okay?”
           I reached for my youngest daughter then, drawing her against my chest and hugging her tightly. She hadn’t called me mommy since she was nine. It made me ache for the days when she was little, when she would follow me around the house each day, when she loved nothing more than sitting on her Uncle Kenny’s knee watching a bank of camera monitors backstage at an AEW show.
           “I’m okay, baby,” I said soothingly. My fingers brushed through her light brown hair as I pressed a kiss to her forehead. She had Nick’s hairline, the poor child. “It’s just… Mattie’s driving. You’re getting ready to start high school. You’re all growing up too fast for me to keep up.”
           Before she could respond, I heard the sound of the garage door rumbling down. It was quickly followed by the sound of three doors slamming shut. The front door opened, and Mattie came in with Nick and Matt hot on her heels.
           I wiped hastily at my eyes and took a deep breath. “How’d it go?”
           Mattie flopped down on the bench across the table and put her head in her hands. “I scratched Dad’s car.”
           Nick dropped a kiss on the top of my head as he walked by, headed into the kitchen. Matt sat down at the head of the table. “You can barely see it, Tea. It was the edge of the bumper. Besides, that’s why we let you drive the Nissan. It’s seen better days, so some more bumps and bruises aren’t going to hurt it.”
           “I hit a pole, Papa,” Mattie said deadpan.
           My eyes went wide and my mouth opened, but before I could respond, Matt reached out and put his hand on top of mine. “You grazed one of the net anchors. You didn’t hit a pole.”
           Nick reappeared, setting a glass of soda in front of our daughter. “You did really well today, Mattie. I couldn’t parallel park until I was twenty-five.”
           I laughed. “I still can’t. And I’m… well, it doesn’t matter… I just can’t. Why do you think Papa bought me a minivan that can parallel park itself?”
           Mattie laughed and her blue eyes brightened. “I did okay?” she queried hopefully, looking between Matt and Nick. When they both nodded, she grinned.
           “How did they do?” I asked, jerking my thumbs at my husbands.
           “Really good! Dad said shit when I hit the brake too hard, and Papa almost said the f word when I got too close to the wall.” Our daughter looked between her fathers and smiled. “They were amazing, Mom. Best dads ever.”
           Matt sniffed. Nick titled his head back, scratching at his neck. “Oh no,” I exclaimed. “You two can’t cry. I’ve already been crying. That’s my job.”
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zen3to5 · 4 years
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J/H 5-06: Over the Hills and Far Away
This was an interesting case, the one page-one rewrite of Season 5. I really like this episode as it is, and I think it's one of the best of the fifth season - overall, and for J/H. But because of the rewrites done to "Eric's Naughty No-No," Hyde's dilemma about fidelity here would be redundant. So, I've come up with something else for him and Jackie in this timeline...
(Following production order, we assume that episode 5-05, "Ramble On," played out as we know it, without changes.)
FF.Net AO3
***
SHOW TITLE   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - NIGHT   Suppertime. RED, HYDE, and ERIC are at the kitchen table, with dinner laid out before them. KITTY, with a last tray of food, scurries over and takes her seat.   KITTY: Okay. So, is everyone ready for our big trip to the University of Wisconsin?   ERIC: Yeah, Donna and I have it all mapped out. She is going to buy a tight sweater with a big red “W” on it, and I am going to watch her wear it.   Red looks up from his meal, glares at Eric.   ERIC (cont’d): (to Red) And then we’re gonna buckle down.   KITTY: Steven, honey, are you sure you don’t want to come with us?   HYDE: No thanks, Mrs. Forman. I’m not the college type. I get my learnin’ on the street.   RED: (to Hyde) That reminds me – all the beer’s coming out of the house. All the wine, too. Anything with alcohol, I’m moving out of here tonight. So if you somehow cut yourself while we’re gone, pack it with ice and hope to God you reach the hospital in time.   HYDE: You’re thinking of what happened last New Years’ Eve, aren’t you?   RED: See there – you’ve got the smarts for college.   KITTY: (to Eric) Well, I just can’t believe my baby is all grown up and visiting college. (beat) I am so freaking old!   ERIC: And menopause makes another unwelcome appearance at the dinner table.   Kitty starts fanning herself.   The patio door opens, and DONNA enters the kitchen. Eric stands to meet her.   ERIC (cont’d): Hey, there’s my favorite co-ed. Hey, you all packed for visitors’ weekend?   DONNA: I can’t go. My dad is making me visit Marquette instead. He thinks it’s a better school ‘cause it’s private. Oh, and ‘cause it sounds French.   ERIC: Well, you know what? We’ll just go with you. I mean, if it’s a better school, then I belong there too. Right, Dad?   RED: No. State schools are cheap. That’s where you belong.   ERIC: Well, what if, like, you took out a second mortgage on the house?   Red and Hyde both laugh.   RED: Not for you, dumbass.
MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT   Shortly after dinner. As Eric watches, Donna packs for visitors’ weekend.   DONNA: I have a bad feeling about this weekend, Eric. Nothing good can come from us visiting different schools.   ERIC: Well, yeah, but there’s an upside. Two days apart... I mean, when we get together, it’s gonna be electric, baby. Like a thunderstorm.   DONNA: Eric, I’m serious. I mean, what if we actually end up going to different colleges and we’re apart for four years?   ERIC: Well, then, come semester break, you’d better board up your windows, ‘cause guess what? Here comes Hurricane Eric.   DONNA: Board up my windows? What are my windows? And, whatever they are, wouldn’t you want them open?   ERIC: Mmm.   Donna tries to keep packing, but Eric moves in closer.   ERIC (cont’d): Look, Donna, all I’m saying is that I think we can get through anything. I mean, we go to different schools now and we’re fine, because our love is strong. Like a big, burly bear. So zip up your tent, ‘cause guess what? This bear has claws.   DONNA: Again, wouldn’t you want my tent open?   ERIC: Mmm.   BUMPER   EXT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   The next morning, pre-trip. Red and Hyde stand by the sink, sipping sodas. Eric comes in from the living room, dressed for the road with a backpack slung over his shoulders.   RED: Hold it, Son. Now, before we hit the road, we need to have a talk about that horrible thing that’s taken over your mother.   ERIC: You mean her change of life?   HYDE: I thought we were calling it the lady parts problem.   RED: It goes by many names. Now we’re dealing with a tricky enemy here. I haven’t been this frosty since Korea. And, just like a commie, it can jump out and attack you at any moment.   KITTY (v.o.): Red, honey?   HYDE: Incoming!   ERIC: Retreat!   Hyde rushes down to the basement while Eric breaks for the patio door. They clear out just as Kitty enters from the living room.   KITTY: Red, um, you know, I’ve been a tad bit moody lately. So, um, if you don’t want me to go on this trip, I’ll understand.   RED: Well, you know, honey, there’s really no need for you to go.   DONNA: I knew you didn’t want me to go! Well, I am going whether you like it or not! (Stars fanning herself) Why is it so damn hot in here? It’s like... it’s like we’re living in Hell!   She storms back out into the living room.   RED: You can say that again.   He sighs and nurses his soda.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - DAY   A truncated gang all share the couch – Hyde, JACKIE, and FEZ. WACKY RACES plays on the TV. Jackie’s eyes, however, are on Hyde, and she sits in as coy a pose as she can.   JACKIE: So, Steven, you have the whole house to yourself this weekend.   HYDE: Yeah, but the Formans are all on edge dealing with all the menopause crap, so I’m playing it safe. We’ll have to take the party on the road. (to Fez) All set, buddy?   FEZ: Ten-four, amigo. I got the jumbo size this time.   JACKIE: (to Hyde) What is he talking about?   HYDE: Saturday night, man. We cruise around, stop by the high school, and throw eggs at the football practice.   FEZ: And then I spend most of Monday running from the football team. Their catch rate is down – I’m really building up my speed.   JACKIE: What? Steven, don’t you remember last week? You finally called me your girlfriend.   Hyde shrugs; he doesn’t get it.   JACKIE (cont’d): We’re officially a couple now.   HYDE: All right. So?   JACKIE: So, don’t you think we should spend Saturday night together?   HYDE: Hey, you can come if you want. They’ve caught us on the field a few times. We could use your high kicks.   JACKIE: I don’t want to spend our first official Saturday as a couple fighting the football team with Fez.   FEZ: Oh, Jackie, you know there is a good chance I’d be with you wherever you two went for your Saturday night.   Jackie and Hyde both turn to glare at him; he pulls back to his end of the couch as far as he can.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Concurrent with the previous scene. Eric and Red finish packing up the Vista Cruiser as Kitty comes out from the kitchen, dressed for the trip.   KITTY: Red, honey, you know, I’m sorry about our little spat. The last thing I wanna do is ruin our trip.   RED: Oh, sweetheart, that’s okay.   He smiles, gives her a quick kiss. Kitty giggles and goes into the Vista Cruiser.   ERIC: Wow. Mom certainly cheered up.   RED: Don’t be fooled. She’s a ticking time bomb.   They start around the car when KELSO comes running through the garage, an envelope stuck onto his jacket.   KELSO: Hey, wait up!   RED: What do you want?   KELSO: The explanation’s pinned to my lapel.   Red takes the envelope off Kelso and opens the note inside.   RED: (reading) “Dear Red, Mr. Kelso and I are unable to take Michael to UW. Here’s thirty dollars so he can go with you.”   He checks the envelope; it’s empty.   RED (cont’d): (to Kelso) Where’s the thirty bucks?   KELSO: Oh, I bought this electronical football game.   He holds the game up.   RED: I swear to God, Kelso! You make Eric look like Einstein!   Eric pulls a “touched” face, puts his hand on his heart.   ERIC: Thank you, Daddy.   KELSO: (scoffs) “Thank you?” Einstein was ugly.   He and Eric move to get in the car as Red rolls his eyes.   CUT TO:   EXT. OPEN ROAD - DAY   The Vista Cruiser speeds down the highway. Red and Kitty sit up front, Eric and Kelso in back. The noise from Kelso’s football game fills the car. Kitty tugs furiously at her collar.   KITTY: Oh! It’s like a sauna in here. I wish you all didn’t have to breathe so much.   ERIC:  All right, Kelso, you heard the lady. No more breathing.   KITTY: (to Eric) No, I didn’t tell you not to breathe, I told you not to breathe as much. There’s a difference!   RED: (sighs) Eric, how far are we from the exit?   Eric glances out the window at the mile markers.   ERIC: Um... we just missed it.   RED: Dammit! You’re supposed to be following the map. What the hell are you doing back there?   Eric holds up the map – folded into a crown.   ERIC: Making you a crown, ‘cause you’re king of the road!   He pops the crown on his head, then clutches at his stomach.   ERIC (cont’d): Whoa. That last soda’s made it through. Can we pull off to use the bathroom?   KELSO: First and goal!   RED: When’s the next damn exit?   ERIC: Bit of an emergency here.   KELSO: Touchdown!   KITTY: Would you all just shut up!   She cranks the A/C and takes a few deep breaths, as the men all do their best to pretend not to be there.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   Eggs, eggs, and more eggs! Seven full cartons of eggs cover the kitchen table. Hyde and Fez stand around the table and inspect the eggs, all grins. Jackie leans against the island, pouting.   FEZ: (to Hyde) This is going to be a good one. The new halfback, Hunter Williams, poured tomato sauce down my pants during lunch on Thursday. Well, Hunter, let’s see how you like egg yolks all over your ass.   Hyde cackles, looks over at Jackie. She looks away.   HYDE: What, first you’re not coming, now you’re giving me the silent treatment? (to Fez) Talk about your win-win.   They both laugh. Jackie starts for the door to the living room. Hyde sighs, catches her by the arm, and turns her around.   HYDE (cont’d): Come on. This’ll be fun. We’re gonna be trespassing, vandalizing school property, and sticking it to the Man. It’s everything I’ve been trying to teach you, honey.   Jackie is not amused.   HYDE (cont’d): Jackie, this is what I do on the weekends, okay?   JACKIE:  Steven, we’re a couple now. Weekends aren’t just about what you do. They’re about what we do, together. And there’s a ballroom dance class at the rec center tonight, so you get rid of those eggs and put on a clean shirt!   HYDE: Ballroom dancing? I’d have to punch myself in the head just for walking into that class. Look, I made my plans, and I told you you could tag along. Are you in or out?   Jackie glares up at him; he glares back. She pushes past him and strolls out the patio door.   Hyde sighs and sits down at the kitchen table, where Fez is still counting eggs. He holds one up and nods approvingly.   FEZ: This one is for the quarterback. What he did, I am too much of a man to say. But when this egg reaches the place it is meant to reach... oh, he will know.   He stands up straighter as Hyde puts a hand over his shades.   CUT TO:   INT. DORM HALL – DAY   The University of Wisconsin campus. Visitors’ weekend may have drawn a lot of kids and parents, but it hasn’t inspired any spirit of cleanliness; Animal House would be proud of the state this place is in. Rock music wafts through the halls for good measure.   Red, Kitty, Eric, and Kelso enter through the front door. Eric and Kelso wander off immediately while Red and Kitty assess the situation from the doorway.   RED: What the hell kind of college is this? Barefoot hippies playing frisbee, barefoot hippies singing songs to trees...   Eric and Kelso find a section of wall to lean on, a section that happens to have a poster for CPR instructions.   KELSO: Man, this place is awesome. (points to poster) Look, they even have dirty cartoons on the wall.   ERIC: Kelso, those are CPR instructions.   DONNA: Wow, I’ve done CPR a lot.   A particularly filthy-looking college student approaches Red and Kitty, offers his hand – this is TED.   TED: Hi. I’m Ted, resident advisor.   He shakes Red and Kitty’s hands in turn.   KITTY: Hi.   ERIC: Why don’t you folks have a look around, and I’ll show the boys where they’re gonna be staying.   He crosses to Eric and Kelso. Red and Kitty start looking around in the opposite direction and find students passed out on couches.   RED: I don’t know about this place.   KITTY: I’ll say. It’s the middle of November. I don’t see any Thanksgiving decorations.   Over by the wall, Ted leans in and drops his voice.   TED: Visitors’ weekend is great. We always have a big dorm party. Tons of booze, tons of chicks.   Eric and Kelso share a grin and a high-five.   ERIC: Man, this place is great! It’s too bad Donna couldn’t make it...   A BOMBSHELL BLONDE, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her middle, walks past them.   ERIC (cont’d): Oh, my God, would you look at that?   KELSO: We just saw college butt! On a girl!   Of course, this is the time when Red walks over.   RED: (to Ted) Hold it. Girls live here too?   TED: Yes, sir. We’re co-ed.   ERIC/KELSO: Oh, yeah!/All right!   RED: That’s it! You’re staying with us at the motel.   He starts toward the door. Eric runs after him.   ERIC: Wait! Dad, wait. Think of what a valuable experience this could be for me. I mean, this is my first step into the real world. (claps Red’s shoulder) I’m your little bird, Dad. Give me wings to fly.   Red looks at Eric’s hand on his shoulder; Eric pulls it away.   RED: Butch it up and get in the car.   Eric sighs and obeys.   Kelso has wandered over to the girls’ restroom and cracked open the door.   KELSO: Excuse me, this is your CPR coach. I’m gonna need to check your lung capacities. (over his shoulder) That means their boobs.   He stops when he sees Red, not Eric, over his shoulder. Stone-faced Red takes Kelso by the arm and pulls him away.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT   The Formans’ hotel for the weekend. Red sits on the edge of the bed with a map of UW while Eric and Kelso lie on cheap cots. Kelso is back at his football game.   RED: There’s got to be at least one all-male dormitory on this campus. Ah! Here it is, right between the chapel and the school of interior design.   Kitty, ready for bed, enters from the bathroom, just slightly tense and unsteady.   KITTY: Boys, um, I realize that, uh, I may have been a little irrational today.   KELSO: A little?   KITTY: SHUT UP! (takes deep breath) So, um, maybe now is a good time for me to explain a few things to you about menopause. And, um, lucky for you, I’m a nurse, so I can use the proper terms, like epithelial lining and uterine wall.   Eric groans, flips around, and buries his head into his pillow. Kelso just keeps playing his game. Kitty takes two small bars of soap from her robe pockets.   KITTY (cont’d): Okay, so, um, now, say these soaps are my ovaries. Okay, um, about a month ago, they stopped producing...   She loses her train of thought, thanks to the noise from Kelso’s game.   KITTY (cont’d): They stopped...   The game gets louder, and she loses it again.   KITTY (cont’d): Stopped producing...   And once more.   KITTY (cont’d): Oh, that’s it!   She reaches over, snatches the game from Kelso, and tosses it out the window.   KITTY (cont’d): (to Kelso) What is wrong with you? Were you dropped on your head?   Kelso gapes up at her; he’s never seen Mrs. Forman like this.   KELSO: Yes, I was. And up until now, everyone had the good grace not to mention it!   His bottom lip quivering, he throws himself down into his pillow.   Red sighs and stands.   RED: Okay, boys. Time to leave.   ERIC: YES!   He and Kelso scramble off the cots and out the door.   BUMPER   EXT. ROAD – NIGHT   Somewhere in Point Place, the El Camino cruises the streets. Hyde is at the wheel, Fez in the passengers’ seat, a bag loaded with egg cartons in his lap. “Pump it Up” by Elvis Costello plays on the radio. Hyde wears a deep frown, Fez an impatient mug.   FEZ: We’ve circled past the school three times already. We missed the end of the JV cheerleader practice. Let’s park this mamma and do this thing!   HYDE: Whatever.   FEZ: Oh. You’re still upset about Jackie.   HYDE: What the hell’s her deal, man? Before we were together, I brought her along on a few nights like this and she was up for it. So, now that we’re an “official couple” or whatever, she doesn’t wanna have fun?   FEZ: (tsks) Oh, Hyde. Poor, poor Hyde. Cool as you are, you know nothing of women.   Hyde gives Fez a dirty look, but he persists.   FEZ (cont’d): You made plans for the weekend without even consulting her. You cannot do this with a girlfriend. That’s a big step for you two. You do not want to do something special with your lady?   HYDE: I don’t know, man. I mean, I’ve been showing her the ropes on all this stuff for a while now, and I just figured -   FEZ: Hyde, have you been trying to make Jackie a-cool? (shakes his head) She is her own woman, orphan boy. You think whatever you want to do, if you snap, she comes? That is trouble. Just you wait, Henry Higgins.   HYDE: “Henry Higgins?”   FEZ: You know, from My Fair Lady.   Hyde stares blankly, not a clue what Fez means.   FEZ (cont’d): It was the school musical this year. I was Dancer Number Three.   More blank stares.   FEZ (cont’d): You told me you went to see it, you son of a bitch!   He turns away in a huff. Hyde sighs and turns the car around.   BUMPER   INT. DORM HALL – NIGHT   Ted’s promised party. As “Wheel in the Sky” by Journey blares over the radio, college students and visiting high schoolers dance, sample the keg, and make out. Kelso has a STATUESQUE BLONDE pinned up against the wall, near the CPR poster.   KELSO: (points to poster) I see UW has a pretty good CPR program. That’s gonna be my major.   She rolls her eyes at him and walks away.   Eric walks up the hall with a STRAWBERRY BLONDE, mid-conversation.   ERIC: So, I told my girlfriend, “we can go to separate schools.” I mean, people do that all the time, right?   STRAWBERRY BLONDE: Yeah. I mean, my boyfriend goes to school in New York, and we’ve been together for three years, and we’re in love now more than ever.   ERIC: Of course you are. And I bet, when you two get together, it’s like a thunderstorm, right?   Ted walks up behind them and snakes an arm around the strawberry blonde’s waist.   TED: Hey, pretty lady.   She leans into him, and they start making out.   ERIC: (to blonde) Excuse me, hello? Didn’t you just say you had a boyfriend?   SRAWBERRY BLONDE: Yeah. But he’s not here.   She takes Ted by the hand and leads him away.   Eric, dazed, crosses over to Kelso, who is once again looking into the girls’ bathroom.   ERIC: Did you just see that? I told Donna we could go to different schools, and I was extremely wrong, and... man, if she doesn’t hate Marquette, we’re screwed.   KELSO: Who cares, Eric? There’s a bunch of these college chicks sharing a shower!   He turns back to the bathroom. Eric throws his hands up and walks away.   BUMPER   INTERCUT - INT. MARQUETTE/INT. HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT   A row of payphones on the wall. Donna is on one of them.   DONNA: Eric? Is everything okay?   Eric, on the other end of the call, sitting by the nightstand while Red sits near the head of the bed and Kitty on the end. Kitty tries to hold in tears as she watches television.   ERIC: (into phone) Yeah, everything’s fine. I just want to see how you like Marquette. And, can I just say, if that snooty switchboard operator’s attitude is any indication of the Marquette experience, then I can only assume we’re crossing Marquette off the list right now.   DONNA: No, actually, it’s great. Okay, they have this English professor. He wears a beret and wears a corduroy jacket, but he listens to Zeppelin!   ERIC: Uh, yeah, well, UW has a vending machine, so... (beat) Donna, I love you.   DONNA: I love you too. Bye.   She hangs up, walks off.   Eric sets the phone back on the receiver just as Kitty breaks out into full-on tears.   RED: (to Eric) You gonna cry now too?   KITTY: You know who had a real family? The Waltons. We’re just three strangers sitting in a room!   She tosses her tissue aside and heads into the bathroom.   ERIC: Donna loves it there. I don’t know what to do.   RED: (to Eric) There’s nothing any of us can do. We’re all screwed. You think I like being stuck here, nursing my lunatic wife back from the brink? Hell, no. But we can’t control what happens to us. Even if, by some stroke of luck, you actually hang on to Donna, eventually she’s gonna turn into that. (points to the bathroom door) And then, a few years later, you’ll die.   ERIC: (beat) Okay, thanks for the bedtime story.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT   The basement is empty, the lights all out. The lock clicks, the basement door opens, and Hyde and Fez step in, hitting the lights as they enter. Fez still has his bag of eggs.   They make it halfway to the couch when Jackie comes out from Hyde’s room.   JACKIE: Hello, Steven.   Hyde and Fez both jump. Fez throws his bag up, and it lands behind him with the sound of many cracking shells.   FEZ: Ai.   Hyde looks over at Jackie.   HYDE: Jackie? Did Forman finally give you a key?   JACKIE: No.   HYDE: Then how’d you get in here?   She holds up a bobby pin and wiggles it around before placing it back in her hair. Hyde shrugs and takes a step toward her.   HYDE (cont’d): Look, Jackie, I know you wanted to spend Saturday night together, and I kind of blew you off, so... we’re not doing the egg thing, so if you wanna go -   JACKIE: No, no, Steven. Look, you are an independent man set in his ways, and you’ve never had a girlfriend before. You’ve never been shown how to obey one.   Hyde shakes his head, “are you kidding me?”   JACKIE (cont’d): But I’ve thought about it, and I think I’ve found a way we can spend Saturday night together that combines what you like and what I like.   She goes to the record player and drops the needle. “Ballroom Blitz” by Sweet comes on. Jackie smiles up at Hyde and begins dancing in place. He shrugs and nods.   HYDE:  Not bad.   JACKIE: I know, right? And...   She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small paper bag. She tosses it to Hyde, who knows exactly what it is.   HYDE: This is my stash.   JACKIE: Yeah, I thought you’d have a better hiding place for it than an old shirt pocket.   She dances her way over to Hyde, stopping right in front of him. He looks down at her, grinning ear to ear.   HYDE: I think a special night deserves a special treat.   CUT TO:   MONTAGE. SET TO “BALLROOM BLITZ.”   A) FORMAN KICHEN - Hyde, in Kitty’s silly-looking oven mitts, mixes up a big bowl of brownie mix. Jackie, at his side, sticks her finger into the batter and gets a taste.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): It was like lightning...   B) FORMAN KITCHEN – Hyde lifts the finished tray of brownies out of the oven as Jackie watches (as best she can) over his shoulder.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): Everybody was fighting...   C) FORMAN KITCHEN – Overhead on the kitchen table as Hyde slices the brownies up.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): And the music was soothing...   D) FORMAN KITCHEN – Hyde and Jackie each have a brownie. They link arms, smile at each other, and each take a big bite.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): And they all started grooving...   E) Extreme close-up on Jackie’s eyes, then Hyde’s behind his shades, as the “special ingredient” kicks in.   F) FORMAN KITCHEN – Hyde and Jackie sit together, their heads leaned against one another, their mouths set in spacey smiles, as the walls spin around them with the effects of the brownies.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah!   G) FORMAN KITCHEN – HIGH SPEED. HAND-HELD. WIDE ANGLE. Jackie and Hyde stand before an open freezer, taking shots of whipped cream straight from the can into their mouths.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): And the man in the back...   H) FORMAN LIVING ROOM – HIGH SPEED. The couch, the coffee table, and Red’s chair are all shoved back out of the way, leaving room for Hyde and Jackie to do a wild dance all over the floor.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): ... Said “everyone attack” And it turned into a ballroom blitz!   I) FORMAN BEDROOM – HIGH SPEED. Jackie sits at Kitty’s nightstand, admiring her reflection. She has on Hyde’s sunglasses. He enters the room, surprising her. He lunges when he sees her with his shades, but she jumps up, dodges, and runs out of the room, giggling, as Hyde gives chase.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): And the girl in the corner Said “boy, I wanna warn ya...”   J) FORMAN BASEMENT – HIGH SPEED. Hyde comes charging down the stairs with Jackie slung over his shoulder. She still wears his shades. They race right past Fez, who has been standing around in the basement for this entire montage. They almost make it to Hyde’s room when he sets Jackie down. The two of them run to Fez, each grab an arm, and shoo him out the basement door. Hyde locks it behind him. He and Jackie nod and shake hands before he picks her back up and carries her to his room.   BALLROOM BLITZ (v.o.): “It’ll turn into a ballroom blitz!” Ballroom blitz! Ballroom blitz! Ballroom blitz! Ballroom blitz!   BUMPER   EXT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   The next day, late afternoon. The Vista Cruiser rests in the parking lot. Red and Eric unload the car as Kitty steps out and stretches. She’s all smiles, in a wonderful mood; she’s the only one.   KITTY: What a wonderful weekend! We should go away more often!   Laughing, she heads into the house. Red, looking one step from death, turns to Eric.   RED: They’ve gotta make a pill for this.   He follows Kitty inside.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   The place is a mess. The mixing bowl is out with the spoon inside, the decimated tray of brownies is still on the table, the whipped cream can is on the floor, and bags, boxes, cans, and pans of half-eaten snacks are everywhere.   Red and Kitty just start to take it all in when a yawning Hyde comes up from the basement in an open bathrobe and sweatpants.   RED: Steven! What the hell is all this?   Hyde freezes mid-step.   HYDE: (beat) The folly of prohibition is what it is! You take away beer, you see what happens.   Red rolls his eyes as Kitty takes another wide-eyed look around the room.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Eric finishes unloading the Vista Cruiser. Donna comes up the driveway.   DONNA: Hi.   ERIC: Okay. I know you love Marquette, and you know what? I’ve made my peace with that. So if that means that we’re going to go to separate schools, and drift apart, and make out with guys named Ted, then that’s just the way it’s gonna have to be, because you’re gonna get menopause, and I’m gonna die, and we can’t control anything that happens to us!   DONNA: (beat) I’m not going to Marquette.   ERIC: Well, then, never mind.   They sit down on the open back of the car.   DONNA: I mean... Eric, I loved it, and when I was driving home, I was so excited to tell you about it. And then the drive took forever. And I realized that’s how far away I’d be from you all the time. And I don’t want that. So I’ll just tell my dad I want to go to UW with you.   ERIC: Donna, you have no idea how happy you just made me.   DONNA: Eric, this is gonna be great! We’re gonna be together all the time!   ERIC: Ooh. Um, you’re not gonna get all clingy, right?   DONNA: (laughing) Shut up!   ERIC: No, come on, I’m gonna be a big college man.   DONNA: Uh-huh.   ERIC: I’m gonna need my space.   They share another laugh and scoot closer together on the car.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   Another day. Kitty dries the dishes by the sink while Red watches her from the island. Kelso enters through the patio door, another envelope pinned to his jacket.   RED: (to Kelso) What do you want?   KELSO: Once again, the explanation is pinned to my lapel.   Red takes a note from the envelope.   RED: (reading) “Dear Mr. and Mrs. Forman, please give Michael thirty dollars for the game you threw out the window and broke. Signed, my parents.”   Kitty lets out a big laugh and retreats to the living room.   RED: (beat) Well, you made her laugh. That’s worth thirty bucks.   He pulls out some bills and drops them into Kelso’s envelope.   END.
***
The only additional change we should assume for Season 5 in this timeline is that the changeover to 1978 happens in episode 5-10 [according to production order], "The Crunge."
Well, we made it into Season 5, and we're past the point where there are any major continuity issues to address. The goal of keeping the Zen story going after "Jackie Bags Hyde" and syncing back into the show's established timeline is met, and so we're done here.
...Or are we?
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mf-despair-queen · 5 years
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I’ve Put A Spell On You - Stiles Stilinski
Author: @mf-despair-queen
Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Word Count: 11,207
Summary: Stiles is revisited by the witch that lured him into a sexy night a year ago. But, this time, she’s back for him - not the souls of kids. 
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Oral (both receiving), Public-ish Sex in a Bathroom, Doggy, Teasing, Bondage, Sexy Finger Sucking, Dirty Dancing
Notes: I honestly don’t think this came out as well as I wanted or hoped, but it’s still rather cute. Happy Halloween! Sequel to Hocus Pocus.
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Stiles walked out of his bathroom, rubbing a towel through his hair. Tossing it aside, he pulled the red shirt over his head, his blue plaid pajama pants dragging along the carpet. Pulling back the blankets, he crawled into bed, covering his legs up to his waist. He grabbed his alarm, setting it for his early morning wake up call. Before he clicked off his lamp, the boy sighed, his eyes falling to the date.
October Thirty-First.
He felt familiar pressure against his legs, turning to spy the black cat he inherited making her way up his body until she was curling up on his side. Stiles smiled down at her, petting the silky black fur of the cat. “Tomorrow’s the day, Salem,” he whispered, expecting no response. “Halloween.”
The cat looked up, meowing through a yawn.
Stiles chuckled, the light fading from the room, He relaxed into the bed, the cat purring against his side. He felt her body rise and fall as she slept, sleep beginning to wash over him. One final thought race through his always active mind before it shut down for the night. I wonder if something interesting will happen this year. Will she come back?
The tingle in his shoulder went unnoticed when the clock hit midnight - officially making it Halloween. Mischief night was upon Mischief himself because he didn’t know the things he thought about so often was already beside him.
~
Salem was gone when Stiles woke up. The boy panicked when he realized he overslept his alarm, rushing to get changed for school. He didn’t take the time to find his cat for the last year, bouncing around while pulling on his Nikes, his bag in hand when he left the room. The shower running in his room wasn’t a sign that something was amiss, the man speeding away to school to get through a long day of tricks, treats and flying toilet paper through the halls.
At the end of the day, the McCall pack was gathered around their Alpha and human’s lockers, discussing their plans for that night. Part of them didn’t want another odd occurence to happen again considering the witches they had seen, resulting in bits of their soul drained. A year since then, and no one could predict what was going to happen. There had been no immediate signs that they had returned, but the night was still young.
“Are we sure that a giant Halloween party isn’t a bad idea?” Stiles asked sarcastically, his normal pessimism present. “You’re planning to have the entire student body together in one place. Isn’t that like… the optimal place for these witches to show up and have a feast available.”
“There’s safety in numbers,” Scott reminded the human. Stiles scoffed, shaking his head. “You’ll be there, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Stiles groaned. “It’s a Lydia Martin party. Everyone knows those are the best.”
“Well, thank you,” Lydia said proudly.
“How did you get Derek to agree to use the loft again?” Allison asked. “Last time we had a party there, he wasn’t too thrilled about it.”
“What Derek doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Lydia hummed, picking at her nails. Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically, slamming his locker shut. Lydia saw what he did, huffing. “Don’t give me that look. He’s down in Brazil visiting Cora. He won’t even know.”
“We’re going to die,” Stiles sighs. “We are so dead.”
“But you’re coming?” Scott asked again.
“Yes!” Stiles screamed, flailing his arms. “I will be there! Did you need a ride?”
“No. I finally got the bike fixed so I can head there myself.”
“Alright. I’ll catch you guys there.” Stiles paused before he turned to leave, staring back at your friends. “You’re sure this will work? If they do come back and we are all together… I don’t know if we can protect anyone. You know what happened last year. They will have a field day with how many souls are sitting in Derek’s loft.”
“It’ll work,” Scott reassured. “We will be together and we won’t fall for any of their tricks this year.”
“Alright,” Stiles sighed. “If you think so.”
Stiles waves goodbye to his pack, heading for his powder blue jeep. His mind raced, recalling the way he had been lured into the woods just a year before, the stories he was told as a kid no longer stories. They were a nightmare called reality and he had been in the center of it. Before tugging the door open, he turned to the treeline of the Beacon Hills Preserve that were near the school, straining to try and hear any sort of whisper of song that blew through the wind, tempting him towards the decayed, weathered house that held no resemblance of life. They had checked the house many times and it seemed to be falling apart more than it seemed someone lived there.
Driving down the road, his heart pounded, a sense of dread beginning to settle over the Stilinski boy. The closer he got to his house, the more unsettled his stomach sat. He felt like he wanted to vomit, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was his overly active mind thinking back on what happened over and over again. He kept reminding himself how it felt to realize that the young witch he encountered had used him, using him and his soul for energy. Yet, it made him sad to think that he was just a pawn. He thought the time was special and he never had felt better - though it wasn’t the best feeling to wake up alone, wondering if it was real or a dream.
Then again, it never felt good to wake up in bed alone after sex. He didn’t want that to happen again.
Stiles killed the engine when he pulled into his driveway, collapsing forward with a groan against the wheel. The horn honked loudly under his weight, a noise of discontentment filling the cabin of the jeep. “Why can’t my life be normal?” he asked himself, banging his head a few times against the horn. He knew normal wasn’t in his vocabulary, and he was glad to have the supernatural in his life. But, sometimes, it made his life overly complicated when he just wanted a day to be a teenager. He wanted to go to a party, get drunk, dance like a fool, and maybe even let loose the pent up hormones that were raging in his male body in many different ways in many different positions with a beautiful girl.  
Kicking the door open, he slid out, taking one last look at the woods behind him. “I swear, let today be simple.”
His dad wasn’t home, probably shutting down some teenage punks that were doing all sorts of misfit around the town. The Stilinski house was quiet, almost creaking in age. Shoes were left in the doorway, the door locked behind Stiles when he walked in. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder while walking up the stairs to his room, the wood squealing uncomfortably under his heavy footsteps. The house whined around him, a cold chill running down his spine that made him stop just as he reached the top. Stiles glanced behind him, trying to see if something was amiss, the same unsettled feeling looming over him.
But there was nothing.
A shaky breath left his mouth, Stiles running towards his room quicker. If something was there, he wanted to take refuge in his room. He kept a stash of mountain ash there just in case as well, so if something supernatural was stalking him, he would keep them out with that. Before opening the door, he glanced down the hallway, trying to determine if he was being paranoid or not. The hall seemed darker than normal, Stiles’ heart racing.
Pushing into his room, his backpack fell at the site before him. His eyes found another pair, but it wasn’t that of the cat he practically adopted so long ago. You were sitting on his bed with a book in your lap that once sat on his bookshelf, wearing nothing but a plaid button up and panties - well, more of a thong that allowed him to see the sides of your butt sitting on his blue duvet. Your hair was draped over one shoulder and your face was free from any sort of make up. You looked comfortable in the safety of his room and, for a second, Stiles could have mistaken you for a normal person if he didn’t know any better.
“What the hell?” he asked aloud.
“Stiles!” you screamed happily, placing the book aside. You jumped off the bed, preparing to walk closer to him, finding Stiles backing away into a wall. He grabbed a cross from his table, holding it out in front of him in your direction. You stopped, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Stay back!”
“Stiles,” you sighed. “That has no effect on me. I hope you know that.”
Stiles’ face dropped, looking at the wooden cross. “But, that’s what I read-”
“Myths are meant to be proven false,” you told him, placing yourself back on his bed. “Most of the stuff you will read on witches is false anyway.”
“Well, that makes me feel fantastic,” he murmured sarcastically. He looked around his room, finding empty bags of chips and candy wrappers littered the ground, cans of empty soda on his desk and his bed messed up. “It looks like you raided my kitchen. What the hell?”
“I was hungry,” you grumbled.
Stiles moved to place his bag on the chair near his desk, keeping his distance from your slimy touch. He didn’t want to feel weaker than he already felt in your presence - even if you weren’t gnawing at his soul yet. Just seeing your beautiful face again made his stomach plummet. “What are you doing here?”
“Reading?” you asked, confused.
Stiles rolled his eyes. “I can see that. Reading and eating all of my snacks. But why? How? Why the fuck are you back and in my room?”
You giggled, standing up again. Stiles swallowed thickly, failing in keeping his eyes on your face. The top buttons of his flannel were undone, showing off parts of your breasts. His mouth watered at the sight of your collarbone, his lips wanting to kiss at it. The bottom of the shirt rode up with every movement of the arms, showing the black thong you wore. He caught sight of your ass at one point, the thong not hiding your rounded cheeks. Stiles’ fingers itched, leaving him to scold himself.
“Stiles, I never left you.”
“What?” he asked, throat going dry. It made his question raspy and choked.
“I didn’t break in or seek you out today. I’ve been here this entire time.”
Stiles looked confused until the realization set in. “Salem…”
“Exactly. I’ve been living with you since last year. Just… not in this form. I could only take this form again today. It’s Halloween, Stiles. I take my human form on Halloween.”
“Aw hell,” Stiles groaned, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t happening. This cannot be happening!”
“Don’t be such a worry wart. It’s not a good look on you. And trust me, Sti. You are a god looking man.”
Stiles felt his face heat up, massaging his temples. “I’m worried because I’m not very keen on getting my soul sucked out again.”
“Oh,” you hummed, sitting back on the bed. Stiles noted the sly smile on your face that looked humored at his reaction. “You figured it out.”
“You figured it out,” he mocked. “Yeah, I figured it out.”
“Well, don’t worry about it so much. I’m not here to suck out your soul.”
“Then why are you here?” he pressed. “Why me? Shouldn’t you be out there luring some kid out to your house with your wonderful voice, singing them a song until they are dead and gone? Shouldn’t you be finding some hopeless fool to give you what you need in every way possible?”
This time you frown, a crack in Stiles’ heart forming. “Is that what you really think of me? That I’m just some killer?”
“Well, if the shoe fits…”
“Yes, I have killed, Stiles. I have sucked the souls out of so many kids, you wouldn’t be able to keep track of them. Yes, I sing to attract kids to us so we get a meal to keep us strong. But last year, that changed. My power, my health, my well being. It doesn’t come from the need to suck out someone’s soul. I don’t need to feed on unsuspecting children that are lured in by my song. They aren’t what I need to exist and stay strong.”
“Then what do you need?” Stiles pressed.
“You.”
Stiles’ mouth dropped, unable to come up with a response. Instantly, his head shook from left to right, denying what you were saying. “There is no way. You aren’t feeding on my soul-”
“I don’t need to eat your soul,” you deadpanned. “Last year, after we fucked,” Stiles grimaced unnoticeably, “I marked you.”
“You marked me?” he questioned.
“You know exactly what it is,” you laughed. “I’ve seen you check it out before.” Stiles’ hand moved to his shoulder, thinking about the black outline of a cat that was pressed into his skin like a tattoo. “Exactly.”
“Nope.”
“Yup,” you said, standing up. You moved towards him Stiles trying to back away. He yelped in surprise when you tugged at the bottom of his shirt, the man trying to resist when you tried to pull it over his head. The sleeves got caught on his arms and almost choked around his neck before it was torn from his skin, tossed aside. His arms tried to cover his bare torso, almost embarrassed to be in front of your piercing gaze without it, though you had seen more than this already. He was turned around, your fingers tracing the black cat outline. The touch was soothing, the tingling he had wrote off all day diminishing instantly. It was almost like he needed you, the lost feeling buried inside vanishing. Feeling you against him was warming and comforting.
Stiles let out a content sigh before blinking his eyes open, scrambling away from you. His chest heaved and his honey orbs were wide, licking his lips in thought. “What did you do to me? What does this mean?”
“I marked you.”
“I get that!” he hollered. “What does that mean?!”
You sighed at him, glancing away, keeping your eyes on the floor. “When a witch marks someone, they choose them as their significant other. Only by being with that significant other do we retain our power.”
“So, you are feeding off me.”
“Not like you would think,” you told him. “I don’t eat your soul. I thrive off of you person. By being with you… romantically. Being by your side gives me strength. Without you, I would perish.”
Stiles was conflicted. His head told him to push you away, letting you perish. Without him, you were nothing - and that meant one less supernatural threat in the world. But, his heart told him to keep you in his arms forever, that you didn’t deserve to die. And part of that was selfishness; he wanted he feel that exilheration that came from being with you last year over and over again. He enjoyed being with you - and especially enjoyed the sex. But, you had used him, gaining power you had lost from being locked away by the nemeton for so long by sucking out his soul during said sex. How could he forget that?
“I didn’t ask for this,” he claimed.
“I know,” you told him. “And by no means do you have to abide by it. We make the decision when we feel it is time. And I… I liked being with you last year. That’s why I marked you and returned to your side. I stayed by your side until this moment. It is your choice, Stiles. If you agree to it, I will stay and I will give you anything you want. But, if you say you don’t want me here, I will disappear at the end of the night. That mark will vanish and you will go on your merry way. I can’t mark that decision for you.”
“I-” Stiles started, unsure what to say. “I don’t know right now.”
“Alright,” you whispered.
Stiles glanced at you, finding you sitting back down on his bed, picking up the book. He shook off the guilt inside him, a knot gnawing at his insides. He quickly turned away, not wanting to sink deeper into his thoughts than he already was. It was like the Adderall wasn’t helping at all. He couldn’t focus on anything knowing that you were there and that your life was in the palm of his hand. He didn’t know what to do. Hell, he didn’t even know if you were actually telling the truth. His gut churned, something that told him you were truthful. But how could he know for sure.
His hand went back to his shoulder, trying to ease the burn that returned. Without your tender touch to his skin, he was hurting. The yearning for something unknown returned, a piece of him gone with the wind. His eyes prickled with tears, the man rubbing his jaw to fight back the loss inside. Trying to ignore it, he turned to the clock, seeing the time had passed faster than he could have imagined. Ruffling his hair, he walked towards the closet, cursing at himself as you watched.
“Fuck, I’m going to be late,” he murmured, digging around for the bag with the costume he had prepared for the costumed Halloween party Lydia was throwing.
“Late for what?” you asked, perking up.
“Lydia’s Halloween party,” he said quickly without realizing for a second who he was talking to. He stopped on his way to the bathroom, turning to you. “Shit. I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“Why? I love parties!” you hollered, jumping off the bed.
“I bet you do,” Stiles mumbled under his breath. He watched you walk over to his closet, clearing his throat when you bent over and he had a full shot of your backside. You were digging through a pile of clothes, leaving the male confused. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready. Duh,” you laughed as if it were obvious.
“What?” Stiles asked, shaking his head and flailing his hands. “No, no, no! You can’t come with me! That’s just asking for disaster!”
Holding a dress in your hands, you turned to look at the spasic man that was frantically waving his arms around. “Why not?”
“Well, I…” he started, his mouth snapping shut. He pondered to himself. He wasn’t sure what was happening. His mind was still jumbled from finding you perched on his bed when he got home without warning. Now, you were here. What was he supposed to do? If he left you at his house, there was a chance you would run amuck while he was out having fun and he would have no way to stop you. On the other hand, if he brought you to the party, you were entering a smorgeshboard of souls that you could devour. But, you would be within reach and with Scott there, Stiles assumed you could be stopped if something got out of hand.
One lone witch couldn’t be that bad, right?
“Fine,” Stiles huffed. Your face lit up. “It’s a costume party so… do you even have clothes?”
“Stiles, I’m a witch. I’m always in costume,” you teased. The human rolled his eyes, groaning in exasperation. “Yes, I have clothes. I will be ready.”
“Alright. Good. Just, get ready and we will… we will go party. Just two people, a guy and a girl - a very pretty girl - going to a party. Together. Dressed up.”
“Stiles,” you cut in, stopping his rambling. “I got it.”
“Right,” he muttered. “ I’ll just go change now.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to change together?” you teased, unbuttoning the top button of the flannel your wore. Stiles’ gaze lingered on your heavily exposed chest, his teenage hormones rampaging inside him. You shrugged one of the sleeves off your shoulder, showing off more skin. Your eyes were shadowed as you glanced up at him through your lashes, giving him a sly but adorable smile. “You can even help me undress.”
“I’m going to get dressed now!” Stiles yelled, running into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him, shielding your laughter. Stiles groaned, the evidence on the table that you were playing with him, but it didn’t make things any better. A sheen of sweat coated his skin and no matter how much he tugged at his shirt, he couldn’t cool down. He had more problems than just the hot flashes he was having that would require a few extra minutes on his end. “Hey, Y/N. Take you time getting ready. I have a… problem to take care of first.”
A blush appeared on his cheeks when he heard your faint giggle through the door. “Whatever you say, Stiles.”
Stiles huffed, placing his costume aside and discarding his clothes in his hamper. He didn’t need to get the magazines he kept under his sink for emergencies when his thoughts were filled with you, the man sitting on the toilet to pop off a quick one first.
Stiles rushed to get dress when he was done, checking himself in the mirror. The hat was adjusted over his silky hair. The shirt was tight against his frame, Stiles adjusting the badge on the right side. The left read ‘Police’ in white lettering. A set of handcuffs he stole from his dad hung from his belt, a gun holster with a water gun sat on his hip and a fake police baton was against his leg. Stiles grinned, thinking about how good he looked as a man in uniform - well, a police officer in uniform.
“Hey,” he called, cracking the door open before he walked out. “Are you ready?”
“Yup! Just waiting on you!” you called back to him. Stiles took a deep breath before walking out. He stopped short, his eyes growing wide and his jaw dropping to the floor. The black spaghetti strapped dress you wore with the orange lace up the left side hugged you beautifully, curved around your breasts to show them off but keep them concealed. The skirt flared out and draped against your thighs in spikey patterns that made the style work. Your arms were covered in sleeves that ran from the mid bicep to your wrists, leaving your shoulders and hands free. Your hair seemed to curl against your shoulders, a black witch’s hat with orange band around the bottom of the cone shape sat atop your head. On your feet were just some black ankle boots. You spun for him, showing off your outfit. “Well?”
“Holy-” he started, shutting himself down before he uttered something ridiculous and vulgar. “Let’s go.”
“That doesn’t tell me how I look, Stiles,” you pouted. You walked over to him, a hand running down his muscles arm that was built from lacrosse practice. “You look good.”
Stiles swallowed, licking his lips. “You too,” he said quickly. You gave a small smile, your hand dropping from his arm to make for the door. Stiles frowned at the loss of contact from you, his heart and stomach clenching. Slowly, his mouth opening to continue saying, “You look beautiful.”
You stopped at the door, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Thank you,” you told him, voice sultry to his ear. “Now, come on. I want to party.”
Stiles knew this night would be a long one and he was afraid he would make at least one bad decision before the end of it.
~
The party was roaring when he walked in fashionably late with you at his side. You squealed the second you walked into Derek’s loft, disappearing into the crowd despite Stiles’ extensively long lecture in the car about what you were to do. You broke the first rule in zero-point-five seconds: stay by Stiles’ side. His attempt to stop you was in vain, your smaller frame disappearing into a sea of sweaty teens in costume bouncing to some crappy techno music, alcoholic beverages in hand.
Stiles groaned, headed for the bar. Danny passed him an open beer, Stiles leaning back on it to scan the dance floor. He wanted to relax, but his nerves were wracked, wanting to ensure that nothing was going to happen. He wanted to find Scott and tell him what had happened, warning him that you were here. Stiles wanted to be prepared for whatever was going to happen. His honey orbs flitted over the crowd, memorizing the face of each vibrant student that glowed under the blacklights. Lips glowed with the phlorescent lipsticks, phosphorus paints lining some people’s face, arms and legs. Stiles struggled to find you within the blinding colorful light and strobe effects.
𝅘𝅥𝅮I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine𝅘𝅥𝅮
𝅘𝅥𝅮You can’t stop the things I do, I ain’t lyin’𝅘𝅥𝅮
Stiles’ head whipped around, trying to find the source of the singing. No one else seemed to hear the alluring melody, going about their dancing, kissing, grinding, and whatnot in a carefree atmosphere. Yet, the song called out to him, the beer left on the bartop so Stiles could weave through the crowd to find the music that overtook the techno beat.
𝅘𝅥𝅮I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine𝅘𝅥𝅮
He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, a spotlight directed at your form in his eyes to show off your swiveling hips and twirling body. You danced to the beat, eyes meeting his in a dark, electric match. Your skirt flew around as you danced, your ass shaking and your chest bouncing. A single curl of the finger gestured him forward, a charming smile making him grin.
All inhibitions were lost to your skillful moves. Stiles stepped forward, his hands on your waist. The naturally clumsy man, normally unstable when dancing, moved in time with you, rocking his hips back and forth with yours. Your chests were flat to one another, hearts pounding against your ribs. Your arms circled his neck, hands playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. Your hips ground against his, dancing together as if nothing else mattered around you.
You turned in his arms, your hands reaching around to caress his face. Your backside ground against his pelvis more, the pants he wore suddenly beginning to feel thin and tight. His head dipped down, lips brushing against your neck that made you mewl for him, tilting your head away to give him better access. Your bodies rubbed together in a heated array of limbs, grinding together in a sexy sway. Stiles’ fingers tingled, his shoulder twinging with a fiery heat.
𝅘𝅥𝅮I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine𝅘𝅥𝅮
You were suddenly pushed away, Stiles growling. “What the hell are you doing to me?” he snapped.
“I’m not doing anything,” you told him.
“I don’t believe you,” he claimed. “This is what you did last time. You sung, you lured me in, and you used me. You fed off my soul while I was enchanted by your beauty. That’s what you are doing now. You’re using me for my soul and to get you in here for everyone else.”
“Stiles, I was trying to hurt anyone, my singing would affecting more than just you. It’s supposed to lure people in for me to feed, but is that happening? No!”
“I don’t believe you,” he rasped, taking off the police hat and running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I don’t get what is going on!”
“I’m not here to hurt anyone. If you heard me singing, it was because I’m yours. I chose you, Stiles. I told you this. Only you are affected by it. I just wanted to dance.”
“No. I don’t believe it. It’s not true.”
You frowned, stepping closer to him. Your hand ran up his body, Stiles catching your wrist before it got very far. You met his eye, staring at him with bright eyes. “How can I show you I mean it? I’m not here to hurt people, Stiles. I came back for you. So, let me show you.”
Stiles licked his lips, feeling weak while holding you. But, it was different than the last time he spent time with you. He didn’t feel weak physically or mentally. He felt weak emotionally. It wasn’t the soul sucking sensation that he didn’t understand until later. It was in his heart. He wanted to see what you were planning. He wasn’t sure why. He felt so sure that you were doing something against his will. He wanted to cast you away and never look back. But, he was aroused and intrigued and he wanted to know what you would show him. He briefly remembered the time you spent together, and that was what kept him from pushing away completely.
“Please, Stiles.”
Your whisper was the final straw for him. All conviction that you were playing him was gone, replaced by a deep arousal and fascination. He leant forward, his lips on yours in a smoldering kiss that made you melt into his hands. The kiss was short lived, your bodies pushing through the crowd to find a vacant place that allowed solitude to do somewhat unspeakable things. With Stiles knowing the layout of the loft, he was able to lead you to the closest unoccupied bathroom, shutting the door and locking it while you flicked on the lights.
His back was pressed into the door, your lips attacking his once more. You let him take control of the kiss despite keeping him secured to the door itself. His lips wrapped around yours, starting in slow but heated embraced that dragged down, disconnecting with a resonating smack. When they connected again, your lips were parted, Stiles’ tongue swirling around yours messily. The tip traced the outline of your cheeks, earning a moan that vibrated both of your bodies. Open-mouth kisses were steamy, hands roaming bodies happily. Noses bumped and teeth clashed with the hasty kisses. Stiles’ head tilting to get better access to the kiss.
He was pushed away from the door, your hands directing him to the toilet. His lips stayed n yours in a hungry kiss, your tongues battling playfully between your parted lips. Before pushing him back, your hands fiddled with his bottoms, popping the button with ease and dragging the zipper down tauntingly slow. The loose police slacks he wore dropped in a loud clink with the handcuffs, his boxer briefs falling shortly after. Stiles broke away at the sudden chill, his lower half exposed. His cock was erect, the tip blistering red with a glistening of precum seeping out of the slit. It twitched for attention, wanting to feel something around it, touching it - caressing it - loving it.
You pushed him back onto the toilet, leaning over him to leave a lingering kiss to his lips. His lips, swollen and red, remain puckered when you backed away, pushing his thighs apart to crouch between them. His gaze was hazy when he opened them to look at you, watching you remove your hat before starting. A small, dainty hand wrapped around the entirety of his length, stroking him slowly at first. Stiles’ noises were a bit disgruntled, the pleasure beginning to slowly build up, pumping through his veins one ounce at a time. His heart was speeding up and his stomach was tightening, though that was partially from anticipation for what was to come.
“Come on, baby,” he rasped, biting his lip. You looked up at him innocently, Stiles growling in his throat. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
You laughed, moving closer to him. One hand ran up his thigh casually, feeling the man shiver to your touch. He watched your tongue poke out, grazing the swollen tip like a lollipop, lapping at it happily. He was trying to remain patient, longing for you to do more than kitten lick the slit to taste his precum. His stomach churned and his sight was red with lust. The lure from before was nothing but a memory - a figment that was long forgotten. He wasn’t worried in that second that you may or may not be gaining more power from him, sucking out his soul. He just wanted more.
Your lips wrapped around the head, hollowed cheeks sucking powerfully at the tip. Stiles moaned loudly, not regretting the sound he made. He watched you suck, feeling your tongue smooth over the bumpy underside that was more sensitive than the rest of the tip. You circled the tip, mewls vibrating around him before your began bobbing along his length. Your hand stroked what wouldn’t fit in the mouth, your head and hand moving in time together. Your tongue slid up and down his shaft, finding the pulsating vein that was filled with ecstasy. Your mouth watered when it pulsed against your taste buds.
Bobbing faster and deeper, your hand wasn’t needed. Deep throating Stiles was natural to you, the tip hitting the back of your throat. His hips bucked upwards instinctually, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth and down your throat. One hand continued to grip at his thigh, scraping against his skin, while the other slid under him to fondle his balls. Your mouth made a slurping sound when you bobbed around him, your wet lips pressing to the moist length between them. Stiles’ hand threaded through your hair at some point, the curls now curling between his fingers as he tugged at it, helping to guide your mouth around him.
Stiles’ loud groan filled the bathroom, his head falling back with his eyes closed. His cock twitched between your cheeks, strings of his hot, white seed shooting down your throat in strong bursts. You mewled, swallowing every last drop that he released. The hold on your hair tightened, Stiles grunting your name on repeat, spilling the last of what he had built up onto your tongue. Not a single drop escaped, your tongue passing over your lips to catch any drop that may have slipped out just in case.
Stiles pulled you to your feet swiftly, turning you to face the mirror, your body slumped against the sink. You could see his dark eyes staring at you through the mirror, the hat on his head darkening the stare slightly with a shadow covering them. He disappeared from your sight, your skirt lifted and your thong dragged down your legs. Your legs were nudged apart, his still erect shaft sliding through your soaked core.
Stiles leaned forward, his lips pressed to the shell of your ear. “You like it hard, right?”
You felt the air leave you lungs. “Y-yeah.”
“Good. Now, make some noise for me while I fuck you.”
“Yes, please,” you squeaked weakly.
Stiles shifted backwards, the tip finding your entrance without aid. When he pushed back forward, he was sliding deep into you cock hilt deep with a prolonged moan from you. You slumped further onto the sink, pushing your ass out against him. His hips circled against it for a few moments before pulling back to start his movements. The tip nearly came from before he slammed back tino you, earning a loud moan - almost scream.
His hips collided with your backside in a quick, steady rhythm, your butt jiggling every time. Your hands held the sides of the sink to keep upright, your head spinning from the pleasure. He wasn’t slow. His cock pistoned in and out of you, the clapping sound floating through the sexy, steamy air. The tip was magnetized to your sweet spot, every slide in allowing him to hit it with optimal amount of pressure. He kept hitting it, making you moan happily.
“Moan for me,” he rasped, smacking your ass to make you moan. Your head fell forward, nowhere to hide the noises you made. Stiles seemed to approve because he sped up, pounding you harder so your body slid against the front of the sink, the sweaty sound of skin on skin getting even louder, echoing off the walls. You were tugged back to meet his thrusts, moan after moan falling from your mouth. “Yes, just like that.”
You weren’t going to last longer. Stiles made you see the stars. Fireworks popped every time he hit your g-spot, your body shaking. If the sink weren’t in front of you, you would have fallen to the ground with weak knees and an aching pussy that was ready to be claimed again. The symphony of sounds around the bathroom was music to your ears, but nothing was more distinct and pleasant to hear than Stiles’ uneven breathy moans. The thrusts were growing sloppy, indicating his nearing the end, and you were ready to feel him filling you up witht he same warm liquid you swallowed.
He was losing control when the doorknob jiggled. Stiles growled angrily, the hands he had on your waist tightening. “Occupied!” he called in a harsh tone. The fierceness of his voice broke you, a loud moan escaping your mouth. Your walls closed around him, hugging him more than the angle allowed before. Your juices spilled out around him, coating his shaft in layers of arousal. The tightness of your core made him choke on air, his eyes closing in bliss. His seed, less powerful than before, was shot into you, mixing with your juices. Your walls milked him dry, the man slumping against your back to finish his orgasm, short thrusts used for both of you to ride out your highs.
You giggled after a minute, making Stiles look at you. “Occupied,” you joked, making Stiles roll his eyes.
The man quickly moved away from your, leaving your panties on the sink next to you. You watched him in the mirror redressing himself, cursing himself under his breath. You frowned at what you saw, knowing he was regretting what had happened. You were afraid to ask.
“Stiles?”
“Sorry,” he murmured. He was conflicted. He enjoyed it - he really did. But, you were still a witch. How could be believe after the history you had together that this was something more than a soul sucking fiesta for you - that every touch you shared was powering you up for the night?His head and heart battled with neither side winning. “This shouldn’t have happened.”
“Why?” you whispered.
“I…”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t have a logical answer. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know how he felt. He didn’t know what to believe. He didn’t know anything.
So he left.
The man grabbed a new beer, hoping the alcohol would dull his activate senses. Thoughts were running a million miles an hour in his head. Nothing seemed to make sense and he didn’t want to think about any of that right now. As much as he wanted to figure out what was happening, he didn’t want to figure it out. He wanted to relax. He didn’t want to worry about you and what you may or may not be doing. He didn’t want to think about how he felt. He didn’t want to remember the times he spent with you in such intimate ways. He didn’t want to think about you at all because right now, all he could see when his eyes closed was your bright and shining face. It made him feel sick - sick with want.
“Stiles!” he heard behind him. Stiles turned to the teen wolf himself who was shoving through the crowd towards him, dressed in a doctor outfit. “There you are!”
“Hey,” Stiles sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
Stiles glanced at his friend before sipping the drink, hoping it would hit him fast. “You remember that witch?” Scott nodded. “Well, she’s here.”
“She is?”
“Yup,” Stiles huffed. “She was in my room when I got home. She has been with me this entire time. She was Salem.”
“The black at you had?”
“Yeah,” Stiles replied. “She said that she’s not here to eat souls. She’s not here to do what she did last year. She apparently chose me to be with and she can only survive by being by my side. But I don’t know if she’s just fucking with me or not. I can’t think straight around her.” Stiles took off the police hat, placing it on the bar while he ruffled his hair. “There is something about her that makes my mind go blank. I’m just so drawn to her. Earlier, I swear she was singing, just like she did last year when I walked into the woods and met her. But, the singing only affected me. I was so enticed the second I saw her and I just… what the hell do I do? What is right?”
“She’s here right now?”
“Yeah,” Stiles choked. “She was in the bathroom last time I saw…”
“Doing what?” Scott asked. Stiles flushed, Scott narrowing his eyes on the human. “Really? She could be potentially using you again and you sleep with her?”
“I couldn’t stop myself!” Stiles protested. “I told you. I cannot think straight when I’m around her. One minute we are dancing, the next I push her away because I think she’s playing me, then I find myself kissing her. I couldn’t stop it. It just kind of happened and now I’m freaking out because I’m confused. I’ve never felt like this around a girl. Being with her literally feels right. I feel so complete and my heart feels full and my body is warm. Then I walked away and… I feel like I’m missing something. I don’t feel good. I feel sick and cold like my heart had stopped. It’s like a piece of me is gone. My shoulder burns where this stupid mark is. And this time, I don’t feel the way I did last time. When we were together before, it felt like part of me was dying. I felt weak physically because I was drained. But, I didn’t have that same sensation. I don’t think she was feeding off my soul. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what to do and I don’t know what to think, Scott.”
“Stilinski has a crush,” Danny spoke up. The two boys turned to the shirtless man behind the bar. “What? It’s true.”
“No. I don’t have a crush,” Stiles denied.
“Well, then you wouldn’t be upset if I tell you that Colby is hitting on your girl?”
“What?!” Stiles snapped.
“Yeah. That girl over there is the one you came with, right?” Danny pointed towards the crowd, Stiles whipping around to see the cocky lacrosse player leaning smoothly against the wall in front of you, trying to lay on the charm Stiles knew he had. You held a smile as you talked to him, Stiles’ heart frozen and dropping into his stomach. He didn’t know what you were discussing, but he knew he didn’t like it. A fuse was lit, Stiles growling lowly.
“Fucking Colby.”
“Stiles, calm down.”
“I told you he liked her,” Danny mumbled.
Scott shook his head, grabbing his friend’s arm. “Relax, Stiles.”
“I’m going to beat his face in,” Stiles huffed. “Who gave him the right to talk to her?”
“Are you saying this because you don’t want her talking to him because she is a witch? Or because you don’t want him talking to her?”
Stiles didn’t answer, breaking away from his friend to make his way towards you. Scott threw his hands up, keeping an eye on his friend just in case things got hairy. Knowing that you were there, Scott was being apprehensive, prepared to jump in at any time. Something told him that Stiles was right and you weren’t there to hurt anyone. If you were, you would have done something by now, the people around being lured to your side so you could drain their souls. But, you only focused on Stiles, your eyes drifting to the spazz from afar. But, Scott remained on his toes, seeing as the main brain of the pack was flustered beyond belief from his frazzled emotions. Mostly, he wanted to make sure that Stiles didn’t get hurt - emotionally and physically.
Stiles stormed up to the much taller lacrosse player, hearing the things he said to you. “If you want to, we could dance a bit. Maybe get to know each other. A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone on Halloween.” Colby reached forward to swipe a hand through bits of your hair, Stiles glaring at the man. “Maybe when we are done, we can get out of here and go somewhere a bit quieter, just the two of us.”
“I appreciate the offer,” you told him. Stiles felt his heart sink, his body feeling heavy. He knew you weren’t there for him. You were using him to get access to your next meal so you could survive another year. And it broke his heart a bit without him knowing. “But, I’m not interested.”
“Excuse me?” Colby asked. Stiles smiled slightly at the angered man. “No one turns this down, sweetheart.”
“I’m not interested. I’m sorry,” you huffed. “I already have a guy I like and you’re not him. I’m not here for you or anyone else. I just wanted to have some fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to relax.”
“Then I can help with that.”
“No, I’m fine. I’m not interested.”
Stiles’ heart lifted when he heard your words. He didn’t know why, but your words warmed him. It made his heart flutter, his stomach rampaging against him. He stopped in his tracks taking a second to gaze at you. Your eyes showed your disinterest in the lacrosse player’s failed flirting. He could feel your annoyance. And the entire time Stiles stared at you, he felt the familiar warmth inside of him bubbling like a potion. You were truly beautiful in his honey eyes, every aspect of your mind, body and soul appealing to him. He yearned to pull you into his arms, holding you close so Colby couldn’t lay a finger on you. Stiles wanted to be the only one you looked at, the only one you felt and he wanted you to be the only girl he held.
His tongue passed over his lips, the realization setting in. I like her. A lot. Even if you had lied to him, he felt something deep inside. You had a real connection with one another. He hadn’t stopped thinking about you for the last year and you had been by his side the entire time. Now, you were back, and he wanted to embrace that. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to repeat your actions from the prior year. He wanted to be with you. Your denial with Colby showed that you weren’t there to destroy the town, to kill someone by sucking out their soul with your alluring voice.
He had been wrong to judge you. He believed you. And he wanted you.
“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that,” Colby pressed, reaching forward towards you. That’s when Stiles stepped in.
“She said no, Colby. So back off.”
“Stiles,” you mumbled, surprised to see him after he left you alone. Your hand met his strong met, your heart jumping. The skin on skin contact tingled. Stiles glanced down at you, his eyes showing how he felt. He nodded at you discretely, making you smile. Sinking into his side, Stiles wrapping his arm around you slightly. The butterflies roared, making your body feel more powerful than before.
“Fuck off, Stilinski. We were having a conversation,” Colby sneered.
“It was a pretty one sided conversation,” Stiles told him sarcastically. “She told you to lay off. She isn’t interested.”
Colby looked back and forth between you both, scoffing. “Stilinski? Really, sweetheart? You can choose someone way better.”
“I’m sure he has a bigger dick than you,” you snapped. “At least, a dick that could please me. Because he has. More than once. And I want it many, many more times. He gives me life.” Stiles knew you meant it literally.
“I doubt that,” Colby huffed.
“Look, I told you I wasn’t interest. And that’s the truth. I came here with Stiles. I plan to leave here with Stiles. I don’t care about anyone else here.”
“Well, you can just leave with me and I will show you a real good time-”
“She said no!” Stiles growled, shoving Colby back. “Just lay off my girl, man!”
“You don’t deserve a beauty like her,” Colby growled. “You’re a nobody!”
“I’m better for her than you are,” Stiles argued. “You’re just a dumb jock with a small dick that thinks he can charm his way into any girls pants. But guess what. She’s too good for you. You’re a nobody. Where as me, I can actually show her a good time. She’s mine, Colby. Get over it.”
Colby pushed Stiles, who pushed him back. “You want to fight, Stilinski? Let’s fight then!”
You slipped between the two males in a flash, a hand pressed to Colby’s chest. “Stop it,” you huffed. A powerful force was released from your hand, pushing Colby back into a table of food, salsa, punch and chips covering his fake leather jacket and greasy greaser hair. Stiles gaped at the simple magic you used, feeling you take his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“Yes please,” Stiles mumbled.
He allowed you to drag him out of the loft, Scott sending him a look that told him to be careful. Stiles nodded at him, following you out to the jeep. Roscoe rumbled to life, pulling out of the parking lot and racing down the road.
“Stiles…” you started, unsure what else to say.
“Did you mean it?” he asked, turning to you as he drove. “That you weren’t interested in him? That you only liked one guy? That you weren’t there for others?”
“Of course,” you told him. “If I wanted to hurt anyone, I would have done it, Stiles. You wouldn’t be able to stop me if I actually wanted to do something. My singing is powerful. My magic is powerful. I can put you under my spell in a snap and you wouldn’t even know it.”
“Like last time,” Stiles huffed. “I was so taken by you, I didn’t even know what was happening.”
“Exactly. I lure people in, Stiles. That’s how I deceived them so I could keep my power. But, not anymore. I chose to be here to be with you. When you turned up last year unexpectedly, I didn’t expect to enjoy myself as much as I did. Yes, I drained your soul somewhat. I won’t deny that. But what we did… it meant something to me. It was so much better than anything I’ve had and I don’t want to give that up. I want you. You’re special and I only want that. The only spell I cast was by giving you that mark so that I am yours and you are mine.”
Stiles drummed his fingers on the wheel before he spoke up. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
“I don’t blame you,” you laughed. “I didn’t give you much reason to believe me. I drew you in, I toyed with your mind, I fucked you, I fed off your soul, and then I left to feed on children. I lied to you. Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either. But, if I was just going to come back and feed on children, would I have come back to you?”
“I don’t know,” Stiles shrugged, looking over at you. “Maybe I just had a very tasty soul and you couldn’t get enough of me.”
You laughed, nodding at him. “You actually had a very tasty soul. It’s sweet and tangy.”
“Really?” Stiles asked.
“Oh yeah,” you hummed. “Rather delectable if I must say. But, that jealous side of you earlier? I have to say, Stiles. That was incredibly sexy.”
“Was it now?”
“Oh yeah,” you mused. “Seeing you stand up to that asshole, defending me. Being a little dominant to defend your girl. Definitely a turn on.”
Stiles choked on air, shifting in his seat. “You don’t say.”
“You know,” you began, lifting the end of your dress. Your fingers passed over your covered core, already wet. “That little rendezvous we had in the bathroom wasn’t enough for me. I could use a little bit of jealous Stiles in my life.”
Stiles took a deep breath, his knuckles going white as they squeezed at the wheel. “Fuck, what do you do to me? How do you just manage to make me feel like this?” he asked. “I just feel so complete and eager and God, I am ready.”
You laughed, leaning over the police scanner to kiss his cheek, Stiles sighing happily at the tender kiss. “It’s because you love me. And I’m all yours.”
“My own personal witch?” he asked.
“You could say that,” you teased.
“God, I love you,” he rasped. You smiled. Pulling him into a kiss the second he parked the jeep in his driveway. He barely had time to kill the engine before he was turned in his seat to meet your lips in a feverish kiss. Your tongues tangled between your cheeks, your hands threading through his hair over and over until it was a mess of locks. His hands were attempting to pull you over the console, wanting to roam your body.
The kiss broke with a noisy smack, the windows of the jeep beginning to fog over from the heated aura you were producing. “House. Now. I’m tired of denying that I want this. I’m tired of waiting. Fuck, I want you. I want this. I believe you, Y/N. I want this so bad.”
“Then stop talking and take me, Stiles. I’m all yours.”
Dragging you up the stairs in the house was a no brainer. Stiles was glad his dad still wasn’t home since he was stripping himself of the police costume on the way down the hall, your boots coming off and your hat floating to the wood flooring, forgotten in your future misdeeds. Stiles shut the door quickly when you entered his room, the man pulling you into his chest to place a sensual kiss to your lips. Your arms wrapped around his waist, sinking into the kiss he gave you. You let him control it, his lips dragging along yours before breaking away, delving into another kiss instantly.
The kisses got more heated, Stiles head tilting to either side so he could mash his lips to yours perfectly. The sparks were flying every time they connected, the residual sound of their connection growing louder and more frequent. The smack of lips was prominent, echoing through the crisp air of the bedroom. Tongues battled playfully with Stiles winning every time, trails of saliva stringing you together when you pulled away for bursts of fresh air.
The dress melted from your form, pulled over your head and discarded carelessly. Honey eyes narrowed with dilated pupils, taking in the nearly nude body before him. You stood in just a pair of wet panties that he wanted to rip off you, literally. With each step he took forward, you stepped back until your legs connected to the bed. Stiles pushed you into a sitting position, taking your wrists in his hands.
“Keep them here,” he told you, slowly pulling off the arm sleeves you were wearing. Your hands were left extended before you, wrists touching slightly. You watched Stiles remove the handcuffs that dangled from his belt, the key placed on his bedside table. The metal clanged as he wrapped them around your wrists, letting them fall into your lap clasped together. He took the arm sleeves you wore before, tying them together before wrapping it around your head, your vision going pure black. You let him do what he wanted, enjoying the touch the man gave you. You were enthralled by it, relishing in the bliss it gave you already.
Stiles leaned into your ear, the hot breath making you shiver. “Lay down,” he demanded with a husky voice. You moaned, doing ask he asked. Your bare back was laid to the mattress, your bound hands resting to your stomach. Your legs, dangling over the side of the end, were pushed apart, the thong you had on snapped from your waist. The thing strap on the right side was torn, the silky material removed from your lower half immediately.
Two fingers ran through your folds, Stiles’ ears perking up at your loud moans. The tips probed the entrance, dipping in slightly before pulling back out. “What do you want, Y/N?” he asked.
“You,” you told him through a whining mewl. “I need you, Stiles. Please.”
“You still like it hard and fast?” he questioned.
“Yes,” you moaned. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember that night together so clearly. I’ve dreamt of it because it was that good. That amazing. I always asked myself what I would do if I saw you again because I was mad you left after that. I thought I would hate you but man, I lied to myself. I want to feel you, all of you, only you.”
“Please, Stiles,” you cried. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Stiles grinned, slipping the two fingers into you. He watched you back arch when they spread your apart, opening your entrance to the air around you, scissoring your pussy quickly. The tips curled to scratch at your sensitive walls, the fingers squishing in your wetness with his quick thrusts. He watched the way your breasts jiggled with the thrusts of his fingers, your chest heaving for air. His free hand darted out to grab one, fondling the mound and the hard, boisterous nipple between his fingers. The combined effort made you moan louder than before, urging him to do more.
He pulled out, despite your noisy pleas. The hand sayed on your breast, the fingers that once pushed into you are a rapid pace, finger fucking you into heaven, were placed to your lips. Stiles grunted when your lips parted, taking the two digits between them. Your tongue swirled around them, sliding along his skin to taste yourself. Your lips puckered around him, swollen and red from the relentless kissing you had done upon arrival to his room. They parted when he pulled his fingers free, the pads smoothing over your extended tongue until they flicked off the end of it.
You could hear the rustle of his clothes when he backed away, the loss of body heat leaving you cold and lonely. You wished you could watch him undress, only your imagination left to wonder what he was doing. You could picture the way he unbutton the shirt the rest of the way since he had gotten half of them off on the trek down the hall. You thought about how he would shrug the fabric off his broad shoulders and down his bulging arms that were muscled from lacrosse. You saw his lanky fingers undoing the button on his pants, pushing them and his Calvin Klein’s down his legs until his cock was springing free slapping his stomach so a single string of precum connected the tip to his wonderful happy trail of hair that led to his giant package. You wanted to see him in all his naked glory before you would drop to the ground, sucking his cock happily.
His cock slid between your folds, your back arching off the bed once more. Your hands clawed at your stomach, unable to claw at anything else around you. You whimpered for him, waiting for him to fll you like you wished. He slid in once, bottoming out before he pulled out completely. You felt a void, getting filled for a half second before it was ruined. He did it repeatedly, taunting you with the action. You were being teased, toyed with before you got the main course.
“Please, Stiles,” you pleaded. “Don’t tease me.”
“But I love hearing you whimper for me,” he murmured deeply. You whined, a mewl laced throughout it. “Don’t you like my cock filling you up repeatedly.”
“Yes, but I want it to stay inside me. Please,” you cried. “I love this dominating spirit, but please. I need you to fuck me. Please, Stiles. I need you so bad. Don’t tease me. Just pound me hard and fast until I’m cumming all over your cock.”
“Is that what you really want?” he asked, shoving in before he vanished again. You nodded quickly, hair flying around in the process. “Alright. I want to hear you scream.”
The next thrust into you, he stayed. His cock pistoned in and out of you quickly, pounding you into the mattress while he stayed with his feet planted to the carpet. Your hips clapped together with a resonating frequency, smack after smack of skin filling the room with your moaning screams. His fingers dug into the sides of your thighs, your legs wrapped around his waist to push him into you deeper. The tip hit your sweet spot every time he pushed into you, making your head fly back in ecstasy. The lack of vision amplified the pleasure, your body shaking in happiness.
“Yes! Just like that! Oh my god!” you screamed, your arms extending above your head while your back arched more. Stiles groaned, watching your body jostle with his powerful thrusts, breasts bouncing with his movements.
“I forgot how much I missed this,” he groaned, snapping his hips into yours. He was pushed as far in as he could go, his balls hitting your folds as he did. Your walls convulsed around him, making it harder to move but adding the the pleasure he felt. He pushed through it, his cock twitching and pulsating through your walls into the blood in your veins. “The bathroom earlier wasn’t enough at all. God, I could do this every second of every day and never get tired of it.”
“Oh, Stiles. Please. More!” you moaned.
You were pulled closer into him so he could piston as fast as possible, his eyes closing to chase his high. He was weak, the arousal in his system too much for him. Watching you squirm from what he was doing, hearing you moan and scream his name, and feeling his cock entering and exiting your snug, wet pussy was making his stomach knot. The feeling she felt for you, his denial replaced with acceptance, ignited the fire, knowing that you were there to be with him. He didn’t have the same weakness as the prior year. He felt full and complete and he was going to revel in that feeling as long as he could.
His will didn’t last long. You were quivering against his sheets, letting out an elongated moan of his name. Your walls hugged his shaft, juices splattering around it in bursts of pleasure. Your fluids coated his length, your toes curling into his backside and your head flying back. The warmth and moisture of your core became too much for the man, his thrusts slowing to a gentle push when the climax came. His seed shot off inside of you, mixing with your juices in strings of scalding hot white drops. The coil he had was gone, exploding into fireworks from a sea of flames your bodies produced. His pushes slowed, your tight walls milking the last drops fro the tip of his length, greedily taking every last drop he ejaculated.
Stiles fumbled to remove the handcuffs and makeshift blindfold, moving you properly into his bed. His body collapsed next to you, your head resting on his chest. The blankets covered your forms, your legs tangled together under the sheets. Your hand rested to his heart, feeling the quick beats slowing to a normal pace under the tips. Your moved to trace the cat mark on his shoulder once, feeling his shiver to your touch.
“Sleep, Stiles,” you told him, seeing the man beginning to doze when you looked at him.
“The last time you told me to sleep, I fell asleep and you were gone when I woke up,” he drowsily spoke up. “I don’t want you to turn back into a cat. I want you to stay here. With me.”
“Don’t worry,” you mused, running a hand through his hair that was wet with perspiration. “I will always be by your side.”
Stiles wanted to retort, but he was drifting - fast. His eyes went hazy, going dark before he knew it. The last thing he saw before he fell into a restful sleep was your beautiful eyes staring back at him with a tale of love, his body full and warm instead of cold and weak like last time. His soul was bright, feeling alive with you in his arms.
He just wasn’t ready to see his cat again.
~
The sun was what woke Stiles up, peeking through hs blinds directly into his eyes. He groaned, draping his arm over his orbs to shield them from the bright rays. He shifted, stretching his stiff limbs. He was fully rested after the eventful Halloween night of topsy turvy events. He recalled everything that happened, wondering if it was all a dream. Had you really been there? Or, was it all a spell he placed on himself wishing for something to happen?
He knew it wasn’t a dream at all.
He remembered the frantic thoughts of what was true. He remembered the lure to the dance floor. He remembered the bathroom. He remembered the jealousy. And he remembered the bedroom.
Blinking his eyes open, he expected to see the black cat by his side. But the pressure against the side of his body wasn’t that of a cat. His head turned, jaw dropping to find you sleeping beside him. The blanket had fallen off your chest, exposing your breasts to him - perky nipples and all. He slapped himself a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but you never faded.
Stiles smiled, not caring about morning breath or that you were sleeping. His body turned and his lips pressed to yours in a fiery kiss that woke you up. Your moaned into him, one arm wrapping around his neck. Your eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, licking his lips.
“You’re here,” he whispered.
“I’m here,” you replied.
He leaned in to kiss you again, unknowingly falling for the spell called love. Still, he knew that he was all yours. He had been since he heard your voice.
And you were his. And you always would be.
𝅘𝅥𝅮I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine𝅘𝅥𝅮
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boyfriend-cal · 5 years
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You have a Lame ass Boyfriend -Shawn Mendes series Part Three
You have a lame-ass boyfriend and (Series) FINAL PART
Description: Shawn finally gets to tell you how he feels. A little bit of camping, a whole lot of undecided feelings. Last part of the series. Warnings: not much… thunderstorms I guess? Some fighting but nothing too bad, someone gets slapped (not who u think tho yikes) Word count: 7.8k (this is literally double the other two parts I’m sorry idk what happened it got out of hand, and I think this is the longest thing I’ve ever written)
 PART ONE / PART TWO  masterlist, taglist, request
 ++
 The morning after the breakup, Shawn is still asleep in your bed. Somehow he’s moved himself to the very edge, and you think he might fall off if he does so much as twitch. Your phone reads 6:30am, so you roll over to go back to sleep. Even though your head was still pounding, it felt like no amount of sleep in the world would fix the ache in your chest.
For a few days, Shawn does nothing but stay by your side. He occasionally leaves to get some clothes from his house, but other than that he’s there. Shawn is good at making you laugh and keeping you distracted. You even woke up one day to a clean room and fresh sheets waiting at the end of the bed.
Of course, you insisted that none of it was necessary. You didn’t want Shawn to feel like he had to coddle you every step of the way. When you say all of this to him, you’re slightly worried that he’ll agree to leave because it finally feels like everything is back to normal. Before Josh and before Shawns last girlfriend, this is what you two did every day. You hung out almost nonstop.
After Shawn saw that you could get through a day without crying, he encouraged you to get out more. You didn’t want to, but Shawn had his ways. He would text you and tell you that he wasn’t going to come over unless you came into town to do something with him first. It worked because you didn’t want to be without him, not yet anyway.
Like today, Shawn has convinced you that taking your hammocks out to the nearest campsite would be a fantastic idea. The summer weather was bearable today and was even a little chilly if you stood in the shade for too long. That’s why you’re held in front of your mirror, backpack hung on your shoulders and sunglasses in your hand. Your face is still a pale-greyish tone, but you look a little more alive than you had in a week.
When you make your way down the stairs, you can already hear your mom in the kitchen. She loves to bake early in the morning, and that was good news for you because the house always smells delicious. Your lunch box from high school is sitting on the counter when you enter.
“Shawn told me you guys would be gone most of today so I made some toast for on the way there and then some sandwiches for lunch. This cooler bag has waters and a couple of sodas inside. How are you feeling?” She wipes her hands on her apron and steps away from the mixer.
“Better, I guess. I came to terms with the fact that Josh wasn’t right for me, and now I’m managing the idea of being alone. It’s weird.” You shrug and pick up the cooler bag so you can sling it over your shoulder, and then you loop your wrist through the strap on the lunch box.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re never alone. You better get going, we both know how Shawn gets when he’s worried.” Your mom chuckles to herself, and you can’t help but laugh at the memory you know she’s thinking about.
A couple of years back, you and Shawn had plans. You had a cold, but you told him you’d rest all day and be fine to do whatever it was that he was so excited to do. Now you can’t even remember what it was. Somehow, you’d taken night time cold medicine instead of daytime, and ending up passing out cold. Your mom was gone to another town for a catering job, and your dad had also been at work, so Shawn couldn’t get in the house. He waited on the front porch all day long until one of your parents returned, only to find you were still zonked out. It seemed a little traumatizing to him, so before you head out the door, you text him that you’re on your way.
Shawn has the top and doors off the Jeep to celebrate the cool day. He looks like he’s cleaning some trash out of it when you walk up the driveway. His house wasn’t but a couple of streets over, so it didn’t take long to walk.
“Oh good, you’re here! I’m just taking out everything that could possibly blow away when we hit the high way. Whatcha got?” Shawn meets you halfway down the pavement and takes the lunchbox and cooler from you. “My mom made us toast and sandwiches. She also packed some drinks.”
“What an angel,” Shawn groans out of satisfaction, and you’re not sure you’ve ever heard him make that sound before. His head is tilted back for a brief moment before he starts laughing, “I was going to suggest stopping at that sketchy Subway on the outside of town.”
“I would have refused. Do you have a blanket I can take with me? I brought one to put under me but forgot to grab another one.” You slide your backpack off your shoulders and throw it into the backseat.
“Yeah, sure. There’s one in my room. You can go get it, right? I have a few more things to pack up.” Shawn turns back to the Jeep, but you step toward him and hug him from behind.
“Thanks, Shawn. For everything.” His muscles tense for a moment before he loosens your grip to turn in your arms.
“You don’t have to thank me. You know- “
“That you’d do anything for me? Yes, Shawn, I know.” You giggle, shaking your head.
Your hair is on a low messy bun, and a few strands fall free as you laugh. They frame your face is the cutest way, Shawn thinks. He absentmindedly reaches up to push one behind your ear.
“Right back at you.” You say, smiling the biggest smile he’s seen in weeks. Maybe besides the wedding, but all things considered, it’s good to see you smile.
Shawn must distance himself before he does something that he doesn’t think you’re ready for. Looking down at you, smiling up at him like nothing else matters is too much for his heart.
“Go get a blanket, we better get going soon.” Shawn releases you and you nod before skipping inside. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, and his heart is thumping as fast as it possibly can. He takes a deep breath as soon as the door shuts behind you. How long would he be able to hide this? It was time to find out.
You come back outside with his favorite blanket in hand. You could tell he used it last night because it was sprawled out over the bed when you entered his room. It even smells like him.
“Y/N, you’ve been trying to steal that blanket from me for years, I’m getting it back when we get back into town.” Shawn crosses his arms as if to tell you that he’s serious.
“We’ll see.” You fold it into your backpack and then use the top beam of the Jeep to pull yourself into the passenger seat.
When Shawn finally pulls out of the driveway, you reach into the backseat to open the cooler. You find two sandwich baggies, each with what was once banana and peanut butter toast. The peanut butter was all over the bag, and you knew it was going to be a mess. There was no way Shawn could eat this while driving.
“Looks like our toast is soggy and messy.” You laugh, holding up the bag so he can see. The wind is whirling around you as he speeds down the highway.
“Just like I like it.” Shawn jokes, holding out his hand for you to give him the bag.
“You’re going to make a mess but go for it.”
Watching Shawn try to maneuver the toast out of the bag with one hand is hilarious. He ends up losing most of the bananas to the bottom of the bag, so he settles for saving them for later. There’s peanut butter around the edges of his mouth when he’s finished.
You lean over, swiping the excess off with your finger and then popping it into your mouth. Shawn feels like he could explode. He has to keep his eyes trained on the road, despite his scarlet cheeks giving him away. Shawn takes a swig from his water bottle that’s sitting in the cup holder, but really, he wants to dump it all over him until he forgets all the thoughts he has about you.
Shawn gently taps his fingers against the steering wheel to the music, and you fill the lack of conversations by digging deep into your thoughts. At the beginning of yours and Josh’s relationship, you’d ride around for hours. Listening to music, singing, and then talking about anything and everything when your voice went hoarse from screaming lyrics. Shawn notices that you’ve gone quiet, so he reaches over to take your hand in his.
You chew on your lip nervously. All you can think about is how Josh was the last person you held hands with. Was it always going to be like this? You just wanted him out of your head. You wanted to be able to enjoy things that used to be part of your everyday life.
Shawn sees that your lip is quivering between your teeth. He wonders if its something he did, but either way he knows he has to prevent the tears or they won’t ever stop.
“Stand up.”
He says the words two more times before they register in your brain, so you look over and give him wild eyes.
“What? We’re moving, there’s no way I’m standing up.” You violently shake your head.
“Hold my hand, and then hold on to the beams.” Shawn points to where the roof would be. “There’s no one else on this road. I’ll go slow. I’d never hurt you, Y/N.”
You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt while he slows down a little bit. You’re lucky it’s not a busy road because for one, this is illegal, and two, someone would be ticked off that Shawn is suddenly going twenty under the speed limit. Your grip on his hand is so tight that your fingers turn white as you push yourself to your feet in the seat. You can’t stand to full height without letting go of him, but you really don’t want to let go.
“You got this, Y/N.” Shawn opens his palm, so you’re the only one that’s still hanging on. You quickly let go and grab the bar that comes almost to your chest. The wind is stronger in your hair now, but it feels so lovely. Below you, Shawn turns up the radio so it’s blasting and you’re not sure how he’s sitting right next to it without his ears bleeding. Shawn lets out a scream, and you decide to do the same. Afterward, your chest feels a little lighter, and the smile that Shawn has on his face is priceless.
You have to work up the courage for a few minutes, but once you feel Shawn start to speed up, you let go of the beam and lean against it instead. Your arms open wide, and you scream again. Shawn looks up at you for a brief moment. He decides that seeing that smile on your face is worth all the waiting he has to do.
It takes about an hour to get to the campgrounds. When Shawn pulls up to the rangers station, you stay in the car while he goes inside to pay for your day passes. You’re a little bit sleepy even though you woke up not long before the two of you left. It was already a little past noon. The sun is shining, and the temperature has risen slightly, but not too bad. There are some clouds off to the side, so maybe you and Shawn can pick a shady spot.
“He showed me a hiking trail that eventually comes up on the waterside and said we could hang our hammocks there. Do you want to stay until the sun sets?” Shawn turns the Jeep back on and starts to pull away. He’s more familiar with this campground than you are so he doesn’t even have to look at the map to know which way to go.
“Yeah, fine with me.”
The road winds and curves and you have to hold on for dear life because Shawn refuses to slow down. You’re almost positive that the people in the RVs that you’re passing can hear your squeals with every turn Shawn makes. That would also mean they can hear his loud laughs, but you doubt they’d complain about that. It’s a beautiful sound.
Shawn parks the Jeep by the communal showers and hops out, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and then coming around to my side. He offers me a hand so I can jump down and grab my things. Shawn takes the cooler bag and the lunch box, so I take the hammocks.
“He said it’s like a twenty-minute walk or something. You okay?” Shawn stops at the beginning of the trail, turning back to look at me.
“Yeah? I didn’t even say anything. I can handle a twenty-minute walk into the woods if that’s what you’re referring to.” You lift one corner of your mouth in a small smile, and he shakes his head gently.
“Just checking, I guess.” Shawn's response makes it clear that he wasn’t asking about the walk ahead of you two, but you decide not to push because you didn’t want to discuss Josh anymore. You wished to erase him from your memory.
Shawn has long legs, and it’s hard to keep up. You trip a couple of times but catch yourself from falling on your face. After Shawn hears your grunts a few times, he starts calling out when there's a raised tree root or a tall plant of some sort.
“It doesn’t make any sense to me when people judge distances by time. How do they know what speed we walk at? We could get lost.” You think out loud, and Shawn pauses for a second to shrug.
“I think we’ll know the area when we see it. The ranger said there’s an obvious split in the path.” Shawn scratches the back of his neck, and you watch his shoulders flex under his thin, white shirt.
“Okay, in this case, but what if it wasn’t obvious?” You kick a rock out of the path as you continue to follow him.
“Would you have felt better if he’d said,’ it’s about a mile out,’?” Shawn stops and completely turns to you with a teasing grin on his face.
“No, that would’ve been worse.” You catch up to him, and he rolls his eyes.
“Okay then, quit complaining.” He chuckles, and this time lets you lead the way.
You turn halfway back to him as you walk, “I wasn’t complaining, just making an observation.”
Shawn just hums so you turn back around to watch your step. Your hair sways down your back as you walk. Your shirt is a little too big, so when your arms aren’t raised, there’s no way to tell if you have on pants. He can see the big scar on your leg from that time he convinced you to climb a tree and then didn’t catch you when you fell. Not that he promised he’d catch you, Shawn didn’t think you’d fall, but he did feel guilty once it happened.
He was lost in his own world when you two came upon the spot you’d set your hammocks up. Shawn challenged you to see who could get theirs set up first. You wanted them stacked on top of each other, and you were glad that Shawn was tall enough to put enough space between them.
And obviously, Shawn wins, so you pull that adorable pouty face that kind of made you look like a six-year-old. When he smiles at you, you briefly think about what these last few days would’ve been without him. Absolute hell, most likely. He steps towards you and takes the strap from your hands, pulling backward to make sure it’s tight around the tree. His bicep brushes your collarbone as he does and your eyes widen.
You blush when you notice he’s stopped and looking at you again. Did he notice you were checking him out? You could’ve just been looking at his tattoo. Yeah, that was it. You hadn’t seen it close up recently. Besides, anything you were feeling for him now probably just arrived because you’ve felt more lonely now that Josh is gone. That’s the only explanation.
Shawn tests both of the hammocks before he turns to you again. “Do you want to climb up there or would you rather me lift you?”  
Shawn doesn’t wait for an answer. He gets impossibly close to you and puts both hands on your waist. Shawn counts to three and then hoists you upwards. Your hands grip his biceps for support as he easily lifts you over his head. When the back of your thighs feel the hammock, you let go and try to spread it out enough to have somewhere to sit. Shawn steps forward once so he can set you down.
For a moment, his head is in line with your knees, and you can feel his breaths fanning up your thighs. It gives you chill bumps. Shawn realizes what’s happening but doesn’t pull away. It’s like all of the air around you had been sucked away. You’re scared to move. You wonder what he’s going to do next.
“You good? I don’t want you to fall when I let go.” Shawn checks. He couldn’t make a move because he couldn’t tell how you were feeling. Shawn knew that there had been something between you two since the wedding, but you didn’t seem to be putting the pieces together as fast as he was.
“Uh, yeah. Can you hand me my blanket and book?”
“Your blanket?” Shawn raises his eyebrows, and it earns an eye roll from you.
“Yeah, my blanket.” You tease, sticking your tongue out. He does what he’s asked to do and then makes sure you don’t need anything else before he makes himself comfortable in his hammock underneath him.
For a little while, light conversation flowed between the two of you. When Shawn finally says he’ll let you read, you’re grateful that he can’t see you because you weren’t in the mood to read. Not when your mind had been thinking about him since he made you stand up and feel the wind in your hair on the way here. Shawn was supportive, he always had been, and you making it into anything else would be ridiculous.
++
You accidentally fall asleep after reading maybe five pages of your book. That wasn’t an issue though, because it wasn’t like you and Shawn had planned to move for a few hours.
Shawn hadn’t fallen asleep, but he could tell that when he accidentally kicked the bottom of your hammock and you hadn’t said anything, that you had. After about three hours, it was almost five pm. The sun wouldn’t set for another two maybe three hours, but he didn’t mind if you slept. He’d gotten you to come this far, so that was an accomplishment in itself.
Shawn kicked along the rocky bank of the lake for a while. He thought about things he could say to you. He could explain that the timing is terrible, but he can’t keep it from you anymore. Or he could just come out and say that he’d been waiting since you and Josh first got together. The second option sounded a little douchey as if he knew it wouldn’t last, and Shawn did know that, but he couldn’t tell you that.
He noticed some clouds rolling in, but they didn’t look threatening. Usually, light clouds like that meant the sunset would be ten times prettier, and he was ready for it. Shawn wanted to take some pictures of you standing on the bank with the sky ahead of you or behind you.
By six-thirty, Shawn was tired of finding things to entertain himself with in the middle of the woods. He would’ve just watched something on Youtube or something, but there wasn’t any cell service out here. He makes his way back to you, and you’re still sound asleep.
For a minute, he thinks about how peaceful you look, and he almost doesn’t want to wake you. What if when you’re sleeping is the only time you’re not thinking about everything that’s been going on? He struggles with what to do and then decides to wake you up anyway. Your face that’s covered entirely by your hair is cradled in the palm of your hand. Your other hand is laying against your thigh, so Shawn picks it up. He intertwines his fingers into yours and then squeezes a few times until your eyes flutter open.
“Aw, shit.” You mumble, turning to the side a little bit but realizing your movement is a little bit restricted. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How long has it been?”
“A few hours, but it’s okay, really. I scoped out the edge of the water and decided we could take some good sunset pictures there. You looked too peaceful to wake you.” Shawn giggles and you roll your eyes. You still look like you could get some more sleep.
“Obviously not enough because I’m awake.” You joke. “Help me down, please.”
Shawn watches you wiggle around for a few minutes before you’re sitting upright again. He lifts you by your waist and starts to lower you but forgets to tell you to keep your legs out straight or wrapped around him. One of your feet get caught in his hammock, and while he’s trying to free you, he stumbles backward and loses his balance.
His back hits the ground, and then your weight hits his chest. A groan leaves his lips, but laughter comes from yours. “Nothing like a good trip to wake me up, huh?”
Shawn lifts his head to see you smiling at him. Your chin rests on your hands that are folded in the middle of his chest. He cracks a smile. “Guess not. Are you hurt?”
“Nope. You broke my fall, rescuing me once again.” You stick your tongue out at him, and he lays his head back down, looking up at the trees. He can barely see it, but the sky looks like it’s already gotten darker. Shawn registers the way the clouds just barely flash, but he can’t say anything before the loud crack rings throughout the air around you two. He hears you scream and feels all of your muscles tense against him at the same time.
In the silence that follows, both of your hearts are hammering. You can feel his, and he can feel yours. You hate thunderstorms. Why hadn’t either of you checked the radar?
“Shit, we have to get up. I’ll look to see if my phone can show me how close it is.” You roll off of him at his request. When you stand up, you can see the lakes water is suddenly rough and choppy. The waves are white capping and crashing against the fragile bank.
“I’m just going to walk a bit this way to see if it’ll pick up service. If you can reach it, unhook the top hammock and put all of the stuff in the bottom one.” Shawn calls from your left, pulling you out of your trance that the water put you in.
“Don’t leave.” You blurt. You didn’t really mean to, because you knew he’d come back, but you weren’t too keen on being here without him.
“I just have to find out if we have enough time to drive away from it. If not, we’ll have to use the hammocks and try not to get wet. I promise I’ll be right back, Y/N/N. I wouldn’t leave you.” Shawn blows you a kiss and jogs down the trail you two had come from. You check your phone, but no service.
A sigh leaves your lips as the thunder rumbles again. You have to do what Shawn said quickly in case this rain was coming as fast as he seemed to think it would.
You’ve just secured the straps again, this time the hammock is upside down and acting like a roof for the bottom hammock. It’s close enough, so you’ll be able to pull it around you once you’re under it. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see Shawn, sprinting. Every part of him is sopping wet.
“The Jeep is soaked. It’s about to start raining sideways. We’ll have to stay here and wait it out.” He pauses, placing a hand on each knee to catch his breath. That’s when you hear it. It’s not like anything you’ve ever experienced before. The rain is moving in from your left, and fast.
“Come on, get in.” You say. You kicked off your shoes and lay into the hammock, trying to scoot over as much as possible. Instead of getting in, Shawn stops and starts to strip.
“What on earth are you doing? You’re going to get wet!” You yell.
“My clothes are wet, and it’s going to make you cold so I might as well not have any clothes. We have blankets, it’s fine.”
Shawn crawls in next to you with about thirty seconds to spare before the rain starts to beat down on the outside of the waterproof material. You’re so thankful you decided to spend the extra money. You find a way to safely secure the edge of the top hammock, so you don’t have to hold it forever. Once you settle down, you realize how close Shawn is. You honestly don’t know what you expected, but you can feel every part of him pressed against your side. The air starts to get humid quick.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. The weather was so pretty all day today, and I guess I thought it would stay that way.” Shawn does feel bad because he knows that you’re scared of thunderstorms, and he brought you into the middle of one. You hear his remorse in his voice.
“I don’t expect you to be able to control the weather, Shawn. It’s okay. I wish we could tell our parents we won’t be home when we thought we would, but that’s okay. They know I’m safe if I’m with you.” Your back is to Shawn so you can’t see the blush that rises on his cheeks. He probably looks like a tomato since he usually has a rosy tint to him anyway.
The thunder claps and rumbles and you swear you the trees you’re attached to shake. “I’m just going to…” You start to roll over, your ass pressing in places it shouldn’t but Shawn swallows and focuses on what you’re saying, “Put this here, that there, and me here, if that’s okay.”
When you’re done moving, you have one arm under each of his, and your face is pressed against his neck. Shawn reaches to your waist and pulls the blanket around both of you. “Of course, it’s okay.”
Shawn immediately felt stupid for sounding too eager. You two had cuddled before, probably too many times to count. He wanted this time to feel different. He wanted it to be different. Shawn didn’t know that to you, it was different. You hadn’t quite figured it out yet, but something had changed. You held your tongue because there was still the doubt that you were lonely or that Shawn didn’t feel the same way.
Five hours passed with off and on silence. Sometimes one of you would think about something to talk about, and the conversation would go on as long as it could until it fell silent again. Occasionally, one of you would open one side of the makeshift tent and let some fresh air in.  Now was one of those quiet times. You were tracing patterns on Shawns skin. His eyes were shut. He was so close to saying something.
You wondered when the rain was going to stop. It was going to be midnight soon, and your parents were really going to be worried. Shawn had said a couple times that if the thunder and lightning stopped, he’d start the drive home, but he wasn’t sure how safe it was until then. At this point, neither of you would mind riding in a Jeep with the top down while it rained.
Your fingers trailed over his collarbones and through the valleys and hills of his shoulders. You traced up a line on his neck where his vein sticks out if he’s yelling or singing. Your touch is light as a feather up and down his sharp jawline. Then, they gently ghost over his lips. His eyebrow twitches ever so faintly. Shawn wants to open his eyes, but he’s afraid that he’ll have imagined all of it if he does.
Shawn doesn’t move a muscle until he feels your lips on his. He feels you hesitate, hovering for just a second, but then you go for it. Shawn opens his eyes to see yours closed. He starts to kiss you back, and he already feels breathless. It’s everything he’s wanted, and you’re the one who made the first move. That’s the last thing Shawn expected to happen.
He turns his body, so he’s not flat and moves his hand to cup your cheek. Shawn is smiling into the kiss, and so are you. His mouth parts, so you slip your tongue over his. You’re about to make the decision whether or not to straddle him, but you pull away instead. Shawn’s eyes are wide, pupils blown as he looks up at you. Both of your lips are a little bit swollen, but you weren’t even focused on him anymore.
“It’s not raining anymore.”
Shawn tries not to audibly sputter or gasp, but he actually feels like the wind was knocked out of him. Out of all the things you could’ve said, that’s what you say after kissing him? He remains silent as you throw open the top hammock, revealing a night sky (covered mostly by a canopy of trees) that isn’t flashing with lightning or roaring with thunder.
“Oh my god, we can go home! Not that this hasn’t been fun like it was a good idea, but I was going to go crazy.” You talk rapidly, and Shawn is just trying to breathe. In fact, he doesn’t say anything or start moving until he realizes you’ve gotten the hammock he’s not laying in wholly wrapped up and you’re beginning to fold up the blankets that he’s halfway covered in.
“Yeah, I agree. I’m going to have to ride home in my underwear. What a story for our parents, right?” Shawn tries to laugh, but he can’t. You don’t seem to notice. It doesn’t take very long to get everything packed up and to the car. The GPS says you’ll arrive at your house around 2 am. Shawn has never wanted an hour and a half to go by faster.
Unfortunately for both of you, that storm did some damage. Shawn has to stop the car every mile or so just to move some debris out of the way. You complain, saying something about how the point of having a Jeep with big tires is for situations exactly like this but Shawn brushes you off. “Not everyone has a Jeep, Y/N.”
He can tell that you’re growing impatient with him, but he doesn’t care anymore. You kissed him and still haven’t said anything about it. It was wrong. Shawn felt like he needed a few days away from you, at the least.
It’s nearing 3 am when he pulls into your driveway, or rather, onto the street behind it because Josh’s truck is parked in it. “What the hell is be doing here?”
Y/N peers around the truck and toward the garage door. No one is in sight.
“Y/N?” Shawns blood might as well be boiling at this point.
“I don’t know. When we got service a little ways back, I got a few texts from him asking if I was okay. Maybe my mom called him and asked if he knew where we were or something. She might’ve told him he could stay, but I promise I’m going in there and I’m going to tell him to leave.” You looked at Shawn seriously, and he didn’t know if he believed you. He didn’t really have a reason not to.
“I can come inside with you and make sure he leaves, or I can stay out here. Just let me help.” Shawn begs, he doesn’t want you to go inside and fall into his trap again. Even if your mother had called him, he shouldn’t have come because he doesn’t care. He only cares about keeping you away from Shawn.
“No, I’m not starting a fight at three in the morning. Go home, your parents are worried. I let them know that you just dropped me off so they’ll be expecting you. Thank you for today Shawn, it was fun.” You offer a soft smile, and then you lean in. For a split second, he thinks you’re going to kiss him again but your lips land on his cheek.
“Yeah. Let me know if Josh causes any trouble. Tell him to leave, you’ve been doing good.” Shawn stops himself from rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t stop the annoyed expression from creeping onto his face.
“I am Shawn. He’s not staying here.”
And even though you promised, Shawn waited for another 45 minutes, and Josh never came outside. In fact, after about 30, your bedroom light turned off, and that was that. That was all Shawn needed to know. He was done.
++
Shawn wasn’t going to be the first one to initiate a conversation between the two of you. He honestly didn’t want to talk to you. Even if nothing happened between you and Josh that night, he still stayed the night when you said he wouldn't. That meant four days went by until you text him. You asked him to hang out, but he replied with a short “no” and rolled back over in bed.
His mother saw the warning flags raised the moment he showed up at home that night. She’d been aware that he was in his underwear (thanks to your text), but she wasn’t expecting him to be crying so hard that he barely made it into the garage.
Shawn let her talk him through his tears that night, but every day since then he’s been holed up in his room. She doesn’t know what happened, and she asked your mother, but all your mother could say was that you’d started hanging out with Josh again. Both of them decided that was probably why Shawn was upset, but he hadn’t been this upset before, so what changed?
Another two weeks passed of Shawn actively avoiding and ignoring you. He answered your texts when they involved questions, but if you tried to make plans, he immediately shut you down.
You said goodbye to Josh and shut the front door of his house behind you. Another text rang in from Shawn, “don’t want to hang, sorry.”
It made you angry. Shawn was supposed to be your best friend, and he’d been dodging you for weeks. Sure, you kissed him and then pretended like it didn’t happen, but it couldn’t have meant anything. You kept telling yourself that. It couldn’t have meant anything.
Instead of walking home, you found yourself on Shawn's front porch. The garage was open, and the Jeep was sitting inside. Neither of his parent’s cars were home, so you assumed it was just him. He’d have to open the door, you knew he was here. You knock and then wait patiently, but you feel like your patience is running thin.
The door finally opens. Shawn is standing there, a blanket draped on his shoulders. Sweatpants are hung so low on his hips that you don’t think he’s wearing any underwear. His nose is red like he has a cold.
“What? I told you I didn’t want to hang out.” His tone is cold. He doesn’t sound like your best friend.
You click your heels together a few times and play with your fingers behind your back. “I was just wondering why you’ve been so distant lately.”
“You never made Josh leave that night.” Shawn shrugs. He fights the urge to shut the door in your face.
“That’s why you’re mad? Because I’m hanging out with him again?” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Your brain is screaming,” This means he cares!” over and over again.
“Are you?” His jaw drops but his hand scrubs over his face to hide it.
“I mean, we’re not going to date again but yeah we’re just doing casual things. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal, Y/N?” Shawn yells. His voice booms into the night, and you hear a car somewhere behind you. Someone might think one of you is in trouble. “That’s fucking ridiculous. How is it not a big deal when you kissed me that same day and then let him stay over? But even if you take me out of it, he treated you like a dog. You said yourself that you hated your relationship. Why go back to that?”
Shawn hasn’t been upright in two weeks, so yelling at you makes him breathe a little faster, but he ignores it and waits for your response. His parents have just pulled into the driveway, but he doesn’t think you notice.
“You’re mad because I kissed you? That’s it? I kissed you because I was going stir crazy, I was bored, I was lonely, what other reason do you want?” You yell right back. The lies feel like they’re lighting a fire down your throat, but you keep spitting them out. “He mistreated me because he wasn’t happy in our relationship, because it wasn’t what he wanted, and now it is. If you can’t handle that then fine. We don’t have to speak.”
“But is it what you want? Is it making you happy? Or is it just making you feel less lonely?” Shawn cocks his head to the side as he asks. Before you can think, you reach up and slap him as hard as you can.
The angry and upset tears don’t spill over your cheeks until you turn your back to him. Your hand is still stinging, and you finally notice that the whole Mendes family had been sitting in the car with the windows down, listening, but you keep walking. You just want to go home.
++
Since Shawn’s mom found out what really happened, she didn’t hesitate to call your mom and fill her in. It’s made for really awkward situations. Shawn's family tries to console him but also pretend like they don’t know what happened, and your mom hasn’t said a word. That meant she thought you messed up because otherwise she always had something to say.
And maybe you did. You said a lot of things to Shawn that weren’t true. You hit him for crying out loud. Josh had been blowing up your phone for three days, but you ignored him until you told him it was over and then threatened a restraining order if he stepped onto your property. It might’ve been extreme, but you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.
Frankly, you didn’t even want to deal with yourself. You created this mess because you were too scared. You were scared that Shawn could reject you, you were scared that he was just a rebound, and you were scared that he was only doing all of these things for you out of pity. You wanted to apologize but couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed and take yourself over to his house. Even if he didn’t feel the same way as you, if you could just get it off your chest and move on, you’d have your best friend back.
It was another sleepless night because those weren’t uncommon in your house anymore. Your mother had texted you hours ago that she was going to bed but you couldn’t. You weren’t going to be able to sleep until you got some things off your chest. So you pick up your phone, and you dial Shawn’s number.
Three rings, then the answering machine.
You tried one more time, but the same response. You chucked your phone onto the floor and started to sob. Shawn might’ve been asleep, but you had a bad feeling. You somehow knew he was ignoring you.
He was. Shawn laid upside down on his bed, watching his phone as it buzzed. Sure, part of him wanted to talk to you, but the other part was mad that you’d decided to go back to Josh. That part of him was also hurt that the kiss didn’t mean anything. That night that you’d slapped him, he spent an hour on the floor by the front door trying to get up again. Shawn was in love with you, and to hear you say all of those things was like getting beat up over and over with no intentions of letting up.
A sharp knock to his bedroom door brings him out of his thoughts. It’s probably a good thing too because his veins were starting to pop out from being upside down for so long. His mom opens his bedroom door and sticks her head in.
“I have on good source that she’s not seeing him anymore. I know that doesn’t make what she did hurt any less, but it’s a start, at least?” She shrugs, she doesn’t know if he’ll listen or not.
All he does is nod and then shake his head. Shawn doesn’t know if he wants to listen. What he wants is his best friend back, and now it feels like that’s never going to happen. Shawn feels the panic in his chest as soon as that thought crosses his mind. If he keeps ignoring you, he’ll never even have you as a best friend. That wouldn’t work at all. Shawn would rather suffer by watching you go through endless boyfriends and be there for you than not be in your life at all.
He stood up so abruptly, his mother thinks she’s dizzy. “I have to go.”
Shawn doesn’t even put shoes on as he leaves the house. The thought crosses his mind that he could’ve just called you, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to see you so you’d know he actually meant he was sorry.
He’s almost halfway to your house when he sees someone on the sidewalk ahead of him, running. Shawn stops, and so do they. He realizes it’s you. You’re dressed in a sweatshirt that almost hits your knees, (Shawn thinks you don’t know your own size because most of your clothes are too big.) your hair is in a messy braid slung over your shoulder. You also don’t have any shoes on.
“Shawn?” You call out, you start moving again but slower this time.
“Yeah.” When he confirms what you already knew, you sprint to him. You tackle him, but he keeps his balance after stumbling back a little bit.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know I said things that hurt you, but if you want to see him, then I’ll suck it up. I just don’t want to lose you.” Shawn’s voice sounds desperate and hoarse from all of the crying and screaming he’s done in the last few days.
“No, no, no. Shawn, you were right about all of those things. I wasn’t happy with him then or now. I will never be because he’s not you,” You only pause for a second to see his mouth gaping, but you don’t let him say anything. He places his hands on your cheeks and thumbs away your tears. “I didn’t kiss you because I was bored or lonely or any of that. I kissed you because I’ve been wondering since the wedding if this is what I was meant to be apart of, not that relationship. I’d been holding it in because I was afraid it’d be a rebound thing or that you were only so caring because we’re best friends. I know you may not actually feel the same way I do, but I’m in the same boat, being friends with you is better than nothing.”
Shawn’s palms are still pressed against your cheeks. He chuckles, and you can feel his breath. He thinks you look gorgeous. Your eyes are shiny from crying, and your face is a little puffy, but it overwhelms Shawn with the urge to hold you in his arms and protect you at all costs.
“Somehow, we both came to the same, wrong conclusion. I love you Y/N. I think I always have I just didn’t know until I saw how Josh mistreated you. Everything he did, I knew I could’ve done better. I know I’ve done this backward because I’m supposed to date you before I tell you I love you, but I just want you to know what you deserve. I hope I can give you that and more.” Shawn looks straight into your eyes, and instead of feeling uncomfortable or anxious or upset, you feel calm. You feel like this is right, and has always been.
Without saying anything you also place your hands on his face, and you kiss him. You feel him stumble, but you move with him, placing your hands on his waist to keep him close to you. His lips are soft and he’s so gentle. You feel the fire in your veins like you did the first time, but this time you weren’t going to ignore it. By the time you pull away, your tears are gone and instead replaced with a wide grin.
“It wouldn’t be us if we didn’t mess it up a little bit, so who cares if we did it a little backward. I’m in love with you, and that’s all that matters.” Your foreheads are pressed together as the two of you giggle. You might look like lunatics on the sidewalk in the middle of the night, but it didn’t matter because you finally had each other.
++
please reblog if you liked it!! if you loved it, hated it, whatever, feedback is always appreciated! come say hi💕
shawn taglist: @bodaciousbonzi1996 @lustingfor5sos @fluffsshawn @mikeyglifford @sebastian-sunshine-stan @aulxna @calumsnatchedmyheart
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On my mind Bucky x reader
Summary: Y/N lives in a small boring town, one summer a handsome, flirtatious new guy moves to town. It looks like this summer isn’t going to be so bad after all.
(This is kinda a highschool au.)
Warnings: Fluff
July 6
The sweltering summer heat is what brought you to the small convenience store. It was just up the street from where you lived. It had the essentials. Milk, bread, a variety of sodas, and the best ice cream in town. That's why you were here. 
Kim, the shop owner, had the best vanilla ice cream in this small, shitty town. 
Walking into the store you felt the cool air from the air conditioner in the window. Giving a quick hello to Kim, you made your way to the chip racks.
Scanning over the shelves of different flavors and styles of chips. You decide on a small bag of salt and vinegar. 
It was weird but salt and vinegar chips went well with vanilla ice cream. 
The sound of the bell above the door chimes as you hear someone say hello. Then the footsteps were on the other side of the shelves. It wasn't weird that someone else was in the store. Everyone loved Kim’s. 
As you rounded the corner to checkout and get your ice cream, you bumped into something hard and sturdy.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Its fine, doll.”
Looking up you see a tall, handsome guy. He was wearing a simple white tee and shorts suitable for the melting heat. His dark brown hair was perfectly ruffled. He definitely wasn't from here. It was a small town and everyone knew each other. Well, it was summer. He could just be visiting family.
Feeling your cheeks heat up a little, you made your way to the counter. The boy following you.
“Hey Kim. Just an ice cream with this, please.”
Kim went over to the ice cream machine to get your usual order. 
“Um… by any chance do you go to school here?”
Wait, was he talking to me?
Well, who else would he be talking to. There was no one else in the store.
Turing to look at him. Yup, he was looking right at you.
“Um, yeah I do. Erm… why?"
“Well, I just moved here from New York and I haven't really met anyone here so… well ya know, just wanted to get to know a few people before school starts.” He stated, scratching the back of his neck.
“Oh wow. Why did you move here… um…”
“James. But you can call me Bucky."
Cute name for a cute boy.
“I'm Y/N.”
He repeated your name as Kim passes you your ice cream, giving you a wink. You slide her a five, telling her to keep the change, moving to the side so Bucky could pay.
“Well my father is a doctor and somehow we ended up here. He told us that the hospital here was desperate for doctors so when he was asked to work here, he said ‘yes’.”
The hospital was in desperate need for doctors for a while now. Your dad was a paramedic there. Himself and his coworkers were over run with patients. The poor nurses were trying their best but there was only so much they could do. With another doctor here, it could really help.
“Yeah, I heard about that. My dad actually works at the hospital here.”
The two of you walk out of the store. Quickly you miss the air conditioning as the heat hits you.
“So Bucky, where do you live here in town?”
Continuing walking toward the road. He points up the street that was in the opposite direction of where you lived.
“Jus’ up there at the end of the street. Big blue one. Can't miss it.”
You know the house he was talking about. It was the only one that was for sale on the street. And the fact that your best friend used to live there. Well… ex-best friend. The two of you were close for three years, but over the past three months, you've grown apart and barely ever talk to each other anymore. 
He started to crush on you and after asking you out, and rejecting him. Telling him you only wanted to be friends. It didn't seem like it was going to damage your friendship that much. But it did.
“Yeah, I know the one. Small town. Pretty much know everything there is to know.” you stated.
“I haven't really had the chance to explore the town yet. Feel like being my guide?” he asked with a little smirk.
You thought about it for a minute. This could turn into a friendship. He was new here and he hasn't met anyone yet. You always kicked yourself for not putting yourself out there.
“Sure! How ‘bout we start with one of the parks in town. It's just down trailer street.” you suggested.
Bucky agreed, of course. 
After a ten minute walk you were at the park swinging on the swing set, Bucky next to you.
“This is a pretty small town so there isn't much to do here. There is another park out town and a great walking trail just down from it. Um… a museum, an ice cream shop. Sad to say but that's pretty much it.” you stated with a shrug.
"Well. I'm sure we can make our own fun."
Bucky checked his phone, it was already four o'clock. Soon his ma would want him home for dinner. 
“Well doll, this has been great but i'm afraid my ma is exacting me home for dinner. How ‘bout I pick you up around seven to continue our tour?”
Oh… 
This was a small town. Few people your own age. Well, there was but you didn't mix well with them. They all partied too much. Which is the vibe you got off Bucky at first, which is why you were surprised he wanted to spend time with you.
“Y-yeah… I'd like that.” you answered, giving him a shy smile.
“Great!” he exclaimed as he started to walk away. Quickly spinning around. “Oh! Where should I pick you up?”
You gave a small giggle, pointing at a burnt orange colored house across the street. “That one right there.”
Bucky glanced across the street at the house. Then back at you. 
“Remember, doll. Be ready for seven.” He stated as he started up the street, leaving you on the swing with butterflies in your stomach. 
---------
Seven o'clock finally rolled around after sitting around all day. Of course the hours seemed to crawl by about the same speed as a snail. You tried to keep yourself busy by reading, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, and of course playing with your dog, Nora.
She was a rescue pup that you adopted when she was a puppy about two years ago. She wasn't a puppy anymore. She weighed in at about 75 lbs. And she loved people! 
When Bucky pulled into your driveway, of course Nora went crazy barking. This was a good thing because it lets you know Bucky was here. 
With one last look in the mirror, you quickly grabbed your jacket and made your way to the front door, giving Nora a quick pat on the head before heading out the door. The evening had given a break from the heat of the sun.
"Aww, doll. Ya beat me to it!" Bucky said with a little smirk.
"Trust me. If you knocked on the door, Nora would have went crazy!" You stated.
"Wait. Who's Nora?" Bucky asked with a quizzical look.
"Oh! She's my dog. The one you definitely heard barking. She loves people." You said with a giggle.
"Maybe another time then." Bucky asked with a shy smile. "But for now, it's time to continue our tour.
Bucky being ever the gentleman. He led you to the passenger side of his black jeep, opening the door for you.
After getting situated in the jeep, you were off into the main part of town.
Along the way you pointed out the town museum, the only hotel (which was more of a crappy motel than anything), and then the ice cream shop.
"Wanna grab a cone for the road, doll?"
Giving a quick 'sure', Bucky pulled into the lot and hopped out, of course you got out before he could open the door for you.
"Gotta be quicker than that, Barnes." You said with a grin. 
Bucky gave a little huff, but the two of you continued into the shop.
When you got inside the first thing you set eyes on was the worst thing you could see right now.
The person that made your life a living hell since fourth grade.
Faith Sacrey 
Faith Sacrey was in your class since the second grade, when you moved to this god awful town. You were actually friends up until the fourth grade but after that, you have no idea what happened. She just suddenly wanted to make your life a living hell. 
She could do anything and get whatever she wanted. Whether it was school related or at home with her oblivious mother. She could get any guy she wanted.  She could even convince teacher's to change her grades.
Of course, she was with a group of her snobby friends. 
Oh no.
The only thing that they did was stare and whisper amongst themselves. Which, in your mind, was just as bad as Faith coming up and slapping you in the face. 
"You okay, doll?"
Bucky glanced to where you were looking. He quickly caught on. Slipping his arm around your waist, giving a little squeeze.
"What kind of ice cream are we feeling tonight, babe?" Bucky asked with a shit eating grin.
Looking to Bucky, then back to Faith. She looked royally pissed. 
You felt a jolt in your stomach. 
Y/N Y/L/N made Faith Sacrey jealous.
She no doubt started planning on what to say to Bucky the second he walked in the door. She was always the one to get any new guy. But then seeing his arm around your waist. Well, that fucked up her plans, didn't it? 
Quickly looking back to Bucky, you slipped your arm around him. 
"Mhmm. How about salted caramel?" 
"Ah yeees!" Bucky exaggerated.
Bucky ordered and paid for your ice cream. All while keeping his arm around you.
Honestly, you felt safe with his arm around you. Before you felt uneasy, especially with all eyes on you. The quiet girl walking in with a mysterious, handsome new guy, turned heads. 
After receiving your ice cream, the two of you made your way out of the shop back to his jeep. 
Bucky made the point to walk a little faster than you to get to the passenger door first. Opening it with a smile.
You let out a little giggle. 
God. What was this boy doing to you?
Once Bucky started off again. It was dead silent. Just the sound of the radio quietly playing in the background.
Then, simultaneously both of you broke out into hysterical laughter.
"DID YOU SEE THE LOOK ON HER FACE?!" You asked between fits of laughter.
"That was honestly the best thing I've seen all day!" 
Once the two of you calmed down, Bucky finally asked:
"Wanna talk about the obvious tension between you and that girl?"
He should know, seeing he just saved your ass from having a mini panic attack.
You could stand her.
"Well, long story short, she has hated me since the fourth grade. I have no idea what I ever did to her but she insists on making my life hell. She gets whatever she wants. No matter who it hurts." You say looking out the window.
After a moment of silence he said "I hope I didn't over step back there, doll. I kinda figured that she had an issue with you. Which I have no idea why? You are amazing!" 
You let out a soft laugh.
"You didn't over step at all! I've never seen her look like that before."
Bucky quickly changed the topic of conversation. He started talking about his life. About how he had a little sister, Rebecca. And his best friend, Steve, who lives in Brooklyn. They've been best friends since they were little kids. He says that he would always have to get Steve out of fights that he obviously couldn't win. But he always had a good motive.
"I bet you miss him" you say with a sad smile.
"Yeah. He's a punk but he's my best friend. He tells me he's gonna try to pick up a few more shifts at the bakery he works at to come visit over Winter break." 
"That sounds nice. I can't imagine leaving my best friend. She means the world to me. She is honestly the only way I can stand school." You mention.
"So what about you? What's your family like?"
"Ohh… ya know. A bit complicated. A bit messy. My brother and I don't really click anymore." You state with a sad smile.
Your brother used to be your best friend. But then he got into drugs and everything went downhill from there. He had his good moments. But that's all it was. Brief moments.
"But what family doesn't have it's complications, right?" Bucky says looking to you.
"Yeah."
Bucky could tell you didn't want to talk about it so he just kept driving.
You were grateful for this. 
The last thing you wanted to get into detail about was your brother.
You were farther into town now. Just about to get to the second park with the amazing walking trail. 
It was a walking trail was made in memoriam of a soldier that lived here but sadly died in action. 
The trail was beautiful. Crushed stone trail with lovely birch trees on one side and the coast on the other. It was just about sunset, so if you go now you could see the sunset on the water.
"Ah! Here is the walking trail. If you just turn down here we can get to the start. We can probably catch the sunset on the water." You said enthusiastically.
"Well, doll. We better hurry then!"
You quickly got out of his jeep with Bucky trailing behind you. It was about a 15 minute walk before you got to the lovely, hand crafted gazebo. 
Just as the two of you were getting there the sunset was gorgeous. 
The sky was stained with different shades of pink, orange and yellow. The sunset here was always your favorite part of your day. It always perfectly finished the day.
"It's beautiful!" You sighed, a content smile on your face.
But Bucky wasn't looking at the sunset. He was looking at you. He only just met you but he couldn't help feeling that this could turn into something more. He genuinely thought that you were the most beautiful girl he's ever met. 
The way you blush when he gives you a compliment. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear, but the stubborn piece just falls right back.
"Yeah… she is." Bucky whispered.
You didn't hear him.
The two of you watched the sun set. Then on the drive home Bucky was cracking jokes and telling stories of him and Steve growing up. By the end of it, your stomach was aching from laughing so much. You couldn't remember the last time someone made you laugh like this.
When he finally pulled up to your house. You couldn't help but feel a little pang in your heart. You didn't want the night to end. 
"This is me." 
Bucky gave a soft 'yeah'. 
"Oh. Before I forget, doll. Could I get your number?" He asked with a grin.
Omg… yes!
"Um… yeah sure!" You played it off cool.
He quickly passed you his phone, and you entered in your name and number.
You opened the door getting ready to leave with a shy 'goodbye'.
"Y/N?"
You stopped before shutting the door.
 "Um… I… thanks for being my guide. I had a great time." Bucky said with a shy smile.
"Me too." You said with a smile.
You made it up the steps and inside. Quickly shutting the door with your back against it with butterflies in your tummy. Nora came to greet you of course.
"What is this boy doing to me, Nora?"
-----------
You grabbed a quick shower and cuddled up in bed to read for a while. The sound of your phone buzzing grabbed your attention. Reaching over to grab it, you seen you had a text from a random number.
Unknown Number: Goodnight, doll. -Bucky ;)
You: Night, Bucky.
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Your Alpha (18+)
Plot: You and Jensen had been friends ever since he had moved to Vancouver, him being someone who frequented your coffee shop. You knew he was your Alpha from the very first moment you met him, but he was too nervous to claim you. However, once he triggers your heat during a movie night, he might have no choice but to make you his 
   Pairing: Alpha!Jensen×Omega!Reader
   Square Filled: Bonding/Mating 
   Word Count: 2570 {she's a dousy, y'all}
Warnings: SMUT {rough sex, a/b/o dynamics, hair pulling kink}, swearing
   Created for @spnkinkbingo
------------
   The set's parking lot was quiet as you walked to Jensen's trailer, promising him you'd meet him there before you went back to your place to watch movies for the whole weekend. Jensen's car was in the shop, so you had been giving him rides to and from work. You had owned your own coffee shop so the rides weren't any problem, but the problem was that you were super upset that he was leaving for Texas for the whole summer. You were going to have an empty car, something that you weren't particularly looking forward to. He had done it a couple times before, but that was when your crush on him was less demanding and you could handle it. Now, you wanted him with you constantly. You knew that he was your Alpha and you his Omega, but neither of you wanted to make the move so soon. You guys were the type of friends that would hold hands and kiss one another's cheeks, but everyone knew it meant more. 
   "Hey, (Y/N)!" Jared flagged you down as he passed you. "Jensen is still filming, but he wanted me to give you the key to his trailer because he didn't want you standing outside waiting for him in the heat." Jared pulled a gold key out of his pocket and laced it into your hand. "I've gotta get home to the dogs and pack up all my stuff into the car, so I hope you have a good summer." 
   "You too, Jare," you said as he gave you a hug before walking off in the opposite direction. You made the rest of the walk to Jensen's trailer before letting yourself in and sitting on the small couch that was against the back wall of the trailer. You took out your phone and scrolled through Instagram, laughing at some throwback pictures your best friend from high school posted. Suddenly, you smelled a familiar musk and looked up to be met with the prettiest eyes of all time. 
   "Hi, sweetheart," Jensen said as he walked over to kiss your cheek. "I just need to take a shower and then we can go. Is there any way we could stop at my place to get my toothbrush and deodorant? I still have clothes at your place right?" You sighed dramatically, acting annoyed. 
   "We'll go if you pay for all the gas I'm wasting because of you," you remarked sassily. "And yes, you still have clothes at my house." He smiled, kissing your cheek and stroking a hand through your hair before walking off to the small bathroom. 
------------
   You and Jensen stopped at the pizza shop on the way to his house and got your first pizza of the weekend. You were surprised when he came back to the car with a pizza, a two-liter soda, and a brown paper bag. He got into the car and noticed the look you were giving him. 
   "What? I got your mozzarella sticks and your favorite drink. Sorry, I wanted to treat you." You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss his cheek before pulling out of the parking lot. The way to Jensen and Jared's shared house was like second nature to you, so you got there without any direction needed from your passenger. When you got to the house, Jared was bringing out the dogs on their leashes. You both got out of the car, Jensen to get his things and you to see Sadie and Harley. You walked over to Jared, helping him get Sadie into the car and laughing as she licked your face. 
   "Hi, sweet girl," you said as you patted her head and rubbed her ears. Harley jumped in on the other side, making his way over to you to lick your face as well. "Wow, two pups? How'd I get so lucky." Jared laughed as he went back inside to say bye to Jensen and to get his car keys, which he thought he had in his pocket. A few minutes later, you felt someone poke your back and you turned around, seeing Jensen with a huge smile on his face. Then, you heard Jared closing the front door of the house behind him before making his way to you guys. 
   "Y'all have a good summer," he said as he climbed into the front seat of his car after shutting the dogs' car door. You smiled at him, waving goodbye before getting into the drivers' side of your car. 
   "My house," you said as Jensen nodded along. As you made the turn out of your neighborhood, you felt his hand on your thigh and his thumb running up and down it gently. You gulped, trying to do your best not to focus on it, but your stomach started to get hot and you could feel yourself getting wet. When you shifted, Jensen moved his hand, the heat in you dissipating. You pulled into your driveway, shutting the car off before heading inside. Jensen had all of the food in his hands plus a small plastic bag of the things he would need for the weekend, so you held the door open for him as he walked inside. Your cat meowed and purred as she saw the two of you and you immediately went to refill her food and water bowl. You went back out into the living room, moaning as you took of your work shoes, the feeling of the cold hardwood floor on your toes soothing. 
   "Which movie should we watch first," Jensen asked as he opened the pizza box, taking a huge bite out of a slice. "Should we save our movie to the end?" A nod answered his question as you went over to your DVD stand that was next to your TV. You and Jay had always had a "theme" for your movie nights, and you decided that tonight's would be Classics from the 60s through the 90s. You guys always made the habit of watching your guys' movie, which was Gremlins. You didn't know why it was your movie, but you were very happy that you even had one. You could both quote it word for word, making each time you watched it a challenge for who could say lines the quickest. 
   "Do you wanna start off with Rocky Horror or Doctor Strangelove," you asked holding up both DVD cases and shaking them around frantically, the rattling of the DVDs being heard. He shrugged and mumbled a 'your choice' as he finished off his slice of pizza. "Fine, Rocky Horror it is." You smiled as you popped it into the player, pressing play as you went to sit next to Jensen. You opened the bag that had your mozzarella sticks in it and you smiled when you saw that there were fries in there as well. The iconic red lips flooded the screen and you squealed and hit Jensen's arm, smiling as the chorus hit. You sang along in a shrill voice, making Jensen laugh as he pulled you back to lean against his chest. 
   "Be quiet, I can't hear the movie," he said into your ear, kissing it as he pulled away. You wiggled out of his grasp, reaching up to grab your food, before leaning back into his arms. You heard purring next to your ear and you turned to see your cat sitting there, rubbing her face against Jay's arm. "She always did like me." You smiled and nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder. You and Jensen watched the movie, you guys filling up quickly on the junk food that you were stuffing your faces with. His hand had gone back to your thigh, making the heat in your stomach bubble up again. You heard him clear his throat and you knew he could smell you, your slick soaking your pants. Your stomach started to cramp and you got up, pausing the movie before going up to your room to change and take some medicine for your pain. You knew that Jensen had followed you, his footsteps weren't as soft as he thought they were, so you left your door slightly open to show him that you were okay. 
   "(Y/N), let me come in," he said, his breath heaving. "I-I need you." You gulped and walked over to the door and opened it a little more. In seconds, he was on you, his lips devouring yours as his hands grabbed your waist. You moaned into his mouth, your hands threading through his hair. He walked up back to the bed and you laid down as he climbed over you. Jensen smiled at you, pushing your hair out of your face before going in to kiss you again. He trailed his lips down to your neck, sucking a huge hickey onto it as you moaned so more. 
   "Uhh...Jay...I-I need you," you begged as he smiled against your neck, lapping his tongue over the forming bruise. You tried your best to reach for his shirt and take it off, but he shook his head no. 
   "You first," he said breathless, pulling at your shirt. Once your shirt was over your head and forgotten on the floor, his hands were at your back undoing your bra. When he saw your boobs, he smiled, kissing each of the mounds softly. "God, you're beautiful." You smiled at his words, your hands threading through his hair so you could pull his face back to yours for a kiss. After the kiss, he went down to your jeans, flicking the button and pulling them down. He groaned loudly at the sight of your slick leaking through your underwear. You knew that, to him, you smelled so sweet, and you proved yourself right when he threw your pants and went and stuck his face towards your pussy. 
   "Jay," you moaned as you bucked up your hips to meet his face. He smiled and did his best to hold you down as he admired you. Suddenly, you felt cold air against your pussy and then you felt a warm tongue. You moaned loudly, grabbing his hair and pulling as he groaned. You continued to pull before you dragged your hands to the bed sheets and started to pull at those. However, Jensen's warm hand grabbed them both and put them back on his head. 
   "Keep doing it." His voice was muffled, but you did what he said. His nose was nudging your clit as his tongue invaded your entrance. You road his face the best you could, wanting to feel his mouth all of you. In seconds, you were cumming, Jensen's gripping your hips so that you wouldn't move too much. As soon as he let up on his ministrations, your hands were lazily on his shoulders. "Did I kill ya?" His joke made you laugh slightly. He got up going to pick up your clothes. 
   "Come back and mate me, Ackles," you said softly, your eyes going to the huge bulge in his pants. He looked at your shocked and you laughed slightly. "You're so stupid if you didn't know that I was in love with you. Please? I need you...Alpha." The name 'Alpha' caught his attention as he started to take off his shirt which was placed on top of the pile of clothes. He crawled up the bed, kissing your shoulder softly before rolling so that you were on top of him. 
   "I wanna go slow and I don't want to hurt you," he said as he rubbed your pussy against his bulge. "Take what you want, 'Mega." You smiled and kiss his chest, leaving little bite marks and hickeys as you made your way down his body. You sat up once your face got to his cock, moving off of him so that you could reach up and grab him easier. You moaned quietly as you noticed the line of your slick on his light wash jeans. You undid the button, grabbing his boxers as well as you dragged them both slowly down his legs. He moaned and bucked his hips, hissing at the feeling of the fabric slipping off him. 
   "Fuck that 'going slow' shit," he moaned. "(Y/N), come on." His hands were gripping the sheets when you looked back up after dropping his pants on the floor. He looked beautiful, all strung out and needy. Those gorgeous green eyes met yours and once you saw the desperation in his eyes, you sank your mouth down on his cock. He screamed at the feeling and he put his hands in your hair, trying not to tug too hard. 
   "Alpha, tug harder," you whined as you licked the tip of his cock, getting all of the precum. 
   "Only if you present for me," he teased between moans. You got off, turned yourself around before showing him your slick soaked backside. He pulled his legs out from under you and your jumped when you felt his cock nudge your entrance. "Ready?" You nodded frantically as you felt him grab your hair in a ponytail and then slam into you. You cried out, feeling his cock pulsing inside you with every thrust. You could tell he was holding, his moans full of struggle. 
   "Let go, Jensen," you said as reached back to lightly stroke his thigh. "Fuck me harder than you've ever fucked anyone." He growled and adjusted and you moaned as he slammed into you even harder, the new angle sending you over the edge quickly. You came around his cock, the slick running down your legs as you felt his knot forming right below your entrance. 
   "Holy shit, 'Mega," he moaned. "I'm gonna come!" You moaned, felling him lean over you and bite down on your neck as he spilled into you. You came again, this time leaning back and sitting up against Jensen and riding it out. 
   "Fuck, I can't believe we finally did that," you joked as he stroked your hips, his pinkies ghosting over your stomach. You felt him nod against your shoulder, little nips following it. 
   "I'm one lucky Alpha," he said as you slid out of you, lifting you up and taking you down the hall to your bathroom to clean you up. "Hot bath or hot shower." 
   "Bath," you said as you snuggled into his chest, kissing it softly. "I love you, Jay." He smiled, kissing your forehead, before setting you down to sit you on the edge of the tub. 
   "I love you, too, princess." His voice was full of meaning, leading you to actually believe him. You leaned in and kissed his lips. "D-do you want to come to Texas with me for the summer? Like, is there any way you can have someone watch the shop. Like Laura?" Laura was your assistant manager and you thought about what she would say. 
   "She has a vacation planned for the end of August, but would you be mad if I left early," you asked as you climbed into the tub, sitting between his legs. 
   "I just want my family to meet the beautiful girl I'm with," Jay said as you nodded. 
   "I'll go with you," you said. "I'll call Laura first thing in the morning." You looked up to see a huge smile on his face. You planted a small kiss on his lips before grabbing the rag to wash you and him down. 
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addictionstories · 2 years
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22
It was December 27th, the eve of the big day. At midnight Naomi would be a free woman. I was sitting at the desk in my room, tinkering with my blog when she called.
“Hey, how are you?” she asked.
“Good.”
“There was a problem with my paperwork. I don’t think I’m getting out tonight,” she said calmly.
There was a pause. I felt relieved.
“I’m kidding,” she said. You’re all set? You’ll be here at midnight?
“Yup. I’m gonna give myself extra time for the drive. The weather’s supposed to get dicey.”
I peeled back the shade and looked out the window. Outside it looked like someone had shaken a snowglobe as white flakes swirled around the corner streetlight. Fuck, I thought. I’d lived my whole life in Central New York, but I was phobic about driving in the snow. There was nothing scarier to me than not being able to control your car on the road.
I went outside, started up the Hyundai and brushed off the windows. On the trip I avoided the highway, driving through the frosted streets of the village of Liverpool and then onto Route 57 heading north. When I hit Taco Bell in Clay the snow started to wane, but the road was a sheet of ice, like driving on a glacier. I kept the car at a crawl through Phoenix, never exceeding twenty miles per hour.  
When I got to Oswego my nerves were fried. I pulled into the jail parking lot and sat for a few minutes to collect myself. Then I got out, walked through a set of double doors into the building’s vestibule and pressed a buzzer for an officer. Ten minutes later a cop came and let me in. I followed him down a long, brightly lit corridor. The jail, like the others, was cold and antiseptic, completely devoid of warmth or humanity. The waiting room at my dentist’s office had a thousand times more personality than this place. At least there you had magazines and generic pictures on the walls.
Naomi appeared from around a corner, dressed in what looked like pajamas or long underwear. She was moving fast, at the pace of a slow jog, almost as if she feared the cop was going to change his mind and lock her up again.
She ran up and hugged me. 
“I gained so much weight I couldn’t fit into my old clothes,” she said.
We made our way to the car. Naomi put a plastic bag with her clothes and property in the backseat and we pulled out.
“Did you bring the Fireball?” she asked.
I reached over and handed her one of the two small bottles I bought. She ripped the cap off and began quaffing it down, like it was life saving medicine. 
Holy shit, I thought.
“Take it easy with that stuff,” I said. “You’re gonna get sick.”
When I looked over a moment later she was a third of the way through the bottle. Maybe bringing the booze was a mistake, I thought. She’d hounded me about it until I caved in. At least I didn’t get the large bottles. 
“I loved this stuff when I was young, but I don’t think I can drink it anymore,” she said.
“Cinnamon whiskey? I’ve tried it before. Too sweet for me.”
She put the bottle down. This wasn’t what I’d expected. I thought Naomi would be ecstatic the minute she walked out of that jail. But she seemed anxious, unhappy, burdened. You could feel the weight hanging over her head, the clouds. This was a big adjustment I guess. Maybe it took time.
“Let’s stop at Walmart,” she said.
We pulled into the empty parking lot. Inside, Naomi was zipping around the grocery section - picking up and looking at items wide eyed- like she’d never been in a supermarket before. She walked by a male shopper. “My Name’s Naomi,” she said throwing her hands up in the air. “I just got out of jail!”
He smiled. I shook my head and laughed. She picked up two small containers of rice pudding and some cream soda and we headed to the checkout.
It was sometime after 1 AM when we pulled down the long driveway at her father’s house. Her dad was awake and greeted us as we walked in. He and Naomi had a long hug. After a few minutes of conversation in the kitchen we followed her as she walked up to her room. There was a piece of paper fastened to her bedroom door. Welcome home Naomi! it said, in bright orange letters with stars and balloons drawn around it. Her father had made it. Naomi smiled and hugged him again, thanking him. We all chatted for a few more minutes while Naomi got situated in her room. Her father went back downstairs. Naomi and I hang out a bit longer. Then I said good night and drove home. 
The next day we had plans to go to the mall. I arrived at her father’s house in the early afternoon. Naomi was in her room, sorting through a large stack of boxes she’d moved from her mom’s place. I sat down on the bed and said hello. 
“Can I help with anything?” I asked.
“I can’t find my fleece,” she said. “It has to be here somewhere.”
I tried to make conversation but she was laser focused on her task, giving me one word answers, barely looking over at me. She seemed emotionally lethargic, distant. I sat there silently for a moment. Sometimes I felt like I was running alongside her. It was like she was in a marathon, and I was the guy on the side of the road, handing her a cup of juice and a towel as she passed by. I wasn’t shaping the narrative in any way. We were always on her turf.   
After a while she gave up on the fleece and we left. At the mall we hit the nail salon. I handed her a couple of twenty dollar bills and she headed into the shop. I stayed outside, watching through the window for a moment then I strolled the mall for a bit. When I returned she was finishing up. 
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head as she came out. “I don’t like the job he did.”
She held out her hands. I looked at her new gold and sparkly nails.
“We have to go to the cell phone place,” she said.
We got on the escalator to the upper level, then threaded around a cavernous corner to the phone shop. I paced around the empty store while the young salesman looked at her phones. One had a smashed screen; the other a power issue. Both had to be left for the repairs. She walked back to me, mopey, looking miserable.
I don’t know what I was expecting but I thought this would be a great time. Naomi was out; she was free. We’d looked forward to this moment for eight months. So why was she so glum? Our jail visits were more upbeat than this. I didn’t understand it. I was disappointing. I felt underappreciated.   
On the way home Naomi said she wanted to go out that night. 
“I want to see Patty. Can you take me over there? We can all hang out, you too. 
I hesitated, not saying anything.
“She has a friend in Auburn who wants to chill with us. Can we drive out there and pick her up? Please?”
I smiled a nervous smile, shaking my head slightly.
“Well, I don’t know Naomi. You haven’t even been out a full day yet. Why don’t you just give it a little time and stay at your father’s for a while. 
“Please. I haven’t done anything fun like this in months. Please.”
I thought for a minute. Of course it it was a terrible idea, but saying no was difficult. It made me feel like a chaperone on a high school field trip. I caved with almost no resistance. I dropped her off at the father’s and drove back after dinner. 
We headed to Syracuse, to the edge of the Westcott neighborhood to get Patty then started the forty minute drive to Auburn. On the way back it started snowing lightly as we headed through Elbridge. Everyone was in a buoyant mood. Back in the city we pulled up to Jawbone Jones’s house, which sat atop a hill on a dead end street. The house was dark and mildly menacing, its porch window screens popped out of their frames, hanging askew. I didn’t go inside. The girls got out of the car. Naomi promised to keep in touch, to give me regular updates. I said goodbye and turned around and drove back to my house.
Naomi and I texted every hour that night. I stayed up till around 4 AM then passed out. The next morning I picked up Naomi and her friends and drove them to Patty’s place, a large two family house she rented with her boyfriend, not far from Syracuse University. Naomi planned to stay one night then go back to her dad’s. I went back home. We kept in touch that day and evening. When I picked her up the next morning she was lucid. She said the girls were doing drugs but that she had no desire to. She said she wasn’t feeling it, that it didn’t seem fun anymore. She seemed unusually introspective, reflective. She seemed sincere. Maybe the time in jail changed her. Maybe it soured her taste for drugs. That’s what we were all hoping for. 
“I want to hang here a little longer,” she said. “We’ll go back tonight. Tomorrow at the latest.”
I wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but I didn’t see much harm in her staying another night. Maybe she needed this to get it out of her system. She promised to give me constant updates. I said goodbye, giving her a long hug, and headed home. 
[The life. The drugs, the cops, the courtrooms, the jails, the 24-hour madness. I got a certain juice from it, a jolt. It was an act of rebellion... pure atavistic abandon. We were out on the edge, working without a net, spitting in the eyes of the gods. Coming from my JC Penney-clad, cookie-cutter world, it appealed to me, if only vicariously.] 
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jelixpo · 6 years
Text
Maybe I Do (Chap. 1)
~Author's note: This is a fictional story that will feature the Jelix ship, or Jack//septi//ceye and Pew//die//pie. This ship is in no way real and will never be real since neither Jack or Felix are homosexual or bisexual. Full respect to the very real relationship between Jack and Signe (wii//shu) and Felix and Mar//zia (Marzia). Do not tag or @ the people mentioned in this story, as they have stated in the past that this makes them uncomfortable. Thank you.~
okay so I'm entering the busiest work month and I don't have a lot of free time but dammit if I'm not going to write this story for the month of February. I'm gonna do it!! I will! Next chap should be up in 2-3 days  This is gonna be a pretty heavy dialogue story so if you're not into that then this might not be for you. Anyway not much happens in this chapter. It's mostly just building the "scene" y'know?
   "Hello folks, this is your captain speaking. As you can see, we have finally arrived at the Brighton Airport. The time is currently 3:45 pm and we're sitting at a nice 3 degrees. Please do not exit your seats until the seat-belt sign has turned off. We thank you for flying with us today," A male voice spoke over the speakers as the aeroplane slowly pulled up to the airport, allowing the passengers on it to disembark once it was safe to do so.    It took a little while for the people in front of Jack to gather their belongings and exit the plane, but very soon he found himself walking through the tunnel towards the inside of the airport.    'Home,' Jack thought to himself, sighing contentedly as he made his way to the end of the hallway. After exiting and walking out into the airport lobby, he peered around at the people surrounding him, looking for a familiar face.    "Jack!" He heard someone shout, turning to where he had heard it come from, stood a blond, bearded Swede, waving at him. Jack returned the gesture and proceeded to make his way over to his friend, "Hey man! How was your flight?" The Swede, whose name was Felix, asked while leaning in to hug his friend.    "It was a little boring, but I'm super glad to be here," Jack replied, returning the favour as the two embraced each other for a moment.    "I'm glad you're here too. It's awesome that you moved here!" Felix said happily, "C'mon, let's go get your luggage and then grab something to eat," Felix said, turning and walking further into the airport, with Jack close behind him.    "Oh thank god, Jack replied, relieved, "I haven't eaten all day. I thought I was gonna starve to death on that plane ride,"    "Wouldn't that have been a great start, huh? You finally move out to Brighton and you don't even get to land before you're fucked over," Felix joked.    They made their way to the luggage pick-up and quickly retrieved Jack's suitcase, talking all the way. They went to the "mall" part of the airport and decided on a fast food restaurant.    "So, when's all your stuff gonna get here?" Felix asked as hey sat down at a metal table with their trays of food.    "Apparently it should be here at about 7-ish tonight," Jack replied, making an iffy hand motion before he took a bite of his burger.    "Oh, nice dude! When do you think you're gonna start unpacking?" Felix asked, taking a bite of his own food and sipping his drink.    "I was thinking I would start tonight, just so I can get a head start on it. Plus, I only have videos ready for the next 5 days or so, so I gotta make sure that my recording stuff is set up pronto," Jack replied again.    "Oh, okay. Well, I'll come help you then," Felix said, continuing to eat.    "Oh, dude, you don't have to do that," Jack said, putting down his drink and waving his hand in protest.    "No, it's alright. I want to help," Felix reassured him.    "Aw, thanks, man! Now I'll get all my stuff set up way faster," Jack replied happily.    The two men quickly finished their food and threw their trash away soon afterwards. Making their way out of the airport and into the parking lot, they both walked over to Felix's vehicle and hopped in, Felix driving away from the airport to take Jack to his new house.    "After you're done setting everything up, do you have any plans here?" Felix asked, keeping his eyes on the road.    "I honestly have no fucking clue. I'm just super excited about the possibilities," Jack replied, practically bouncing in his seat at the mere thought of everything.    "Well, hey, if you ever need someone to collab with, just gimmie a call," Felix said, smiling over at the Irishman.    "Oh, trust me, I've been thinking about it the whole plane ride," Jack replied.    "Oh, dude!" Felix said suddenly, as if remembering something he had forgotten, "I've totally gotta take you to see the Brighton tower! Have you ever been?" Felix asked excitedly.    "No, I don't think I have," Jack replied curiously.    " 'Kay, after we get you unpacked, I am totally gonna take you there. You'd die over the scenery," Felix says, excitement present on his face as he thinks about the future plans.    It wasn't long before Felix pulled his car up into Jack's new driveway and, much to their astonishment, the semi holding all of Jack's belongings had actually beaten them there. They sat back in their car and waited until the delivery men were finished unloading all of the boxes, and waived to them as they drove away. Exiting the vehicle, Jack practically skipped up to the entrance of his new home.    "Dude, I'm so fucking giddy!" Jack giggled, walking through the entrance of his home and taking it all in, "Like, I own a fucking house now! How cool is that shit!" He spoke in a sing-song happy voice. Felix crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, laughing at the excitement of the Irishman.    "It is pretty awesome," Felix replied happily, "But now we gotta make it livable!" He said, walking over to one of the boxes. Jack unzipped and reached into the suitcase he had been carried and lifted out two xacto knives and handed one to Felix. The Swede quickly sliced into the box and opened it up.    Minutes turned into hours as the two worked to slice and unpack as many boxes as they could, as well as providing decoration to the place. Lamps, figurines, pictures, candles, you name it! The boxes seemed to be completely endless as the two unboxed item after item. After unboxing an undetermined amount of pieces, they would go around the house and place them in spots. Not necessarily for a permanent place, but more so as just a placeholder. They did this so they would actually have room to unpack more boxes. After about 5 hours, landing them at around 10:45 pm, the two finally decided to call it a night. Slumping down on the couch they had unpacked, they looked around at the work they had done. Even after working for so long, it seemed like they had made the smallest of dents in the pile of boxes that still needed to be opened. However, as small as their work seemed, they had still managed to set up almost all of Jack's recording items, a little bit of furniture for the living room, and a small portion of Jack's bedroom, his actual bed being the first thing in there of course.    "Damn dude, I don't think we're ever gonna finish unpacking these," Felix sighed, exhaustion present in his voice.    "Don't say that! We'll get through it eventually," Jack replied, leaning forward and picking up the landline phone, "You want some 'za?" He asked, looking over at Felix.    "Sure, why not. Anything is good," The Swede replied, waving his hand around as he did.    Jack called a local late-night pizza place and placed his order, then set his landline back in its place as they waited for their order to arrive. About 15 minutes later, Jack was getting up to answer a knock on his door and walked back into the living room with a pizza box and two sodas. The two sat together in silence, just enjoying their food as they laid there on the couch, both of them exhausted out of their minds.    "So," Felix started after a while, "Now that you're here, I can introduce you to all of the hot Brighton chicks. Show you how to woo 'em," He said, smirking a little, "Maybe even finally get you a girlfriend," He joked, a hint of dejection present in his voice. Jack thought nothing of it, assuming the Swede was just tired. The Irishman chuckled in response.    "Oh, because you've had so much luck 'wooin' 'em'?" Jack teased back, raising a cheeky eyebrow at his friend. Felix glared back at him sarcastically.    "Shut the fuck up," Felix jokingly snapped, swatting Jack's shoulder. Jack couldn't contain his laughter at his friend's expense. Felix looked down at his watch, "Well, I should probably head home now. I got videos to record in the morning," He said, lazily standing up from the couch and stretching. Jack followed his actions and walked his friend to the door of his house.    "Night dude," Jack said as he watched Felix walk out to his car.    "See ya man. I'll be back tomorrow to help with those boxes," Felix replied slipping into his car and backing out of the driveway, then driving away into the night.    Jack closed the door behind him and locked it. Shutting off all of the lights behind him, Jack made his way upstairs to his bed and lazily crawled in, too tired to change. Before he knew it, he was drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
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vesperdynamite · 6 years
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I’ve taken up writing again, or kinda, idk man. It’s supposed to be horror but it is what it is! Anyways, I wanted to share this with people who’d be less biased so tell me what you think of it! 
I remember when I was younger my grandparents had a little bit of property down south of my hometown. It wasn’t much though, just a small cottage surrounded by forest and a dirt road going just across the front of it and stopping in their driveway. I remember when my brothers and I were young we would run around out there, sometimes supervised, sometimes not. The woods somehow were full of bamboo, patches of it just big enough for a 10-year-old to hide in well enough not to be seen for several hours. The three of us would sit in these patches, carving out little hideaways for ourselves, reading, listening to the cd player one of us had brought, picnicking. That might sound odd but it was truly a good time, an innocent time.
One summer afternoon, as we were sitting in one of these clusters something strange happened, a kid came up to us. She had to have been the age of my youngest brother, 6 or so, wearing an aviator jacket. I remember thinking how strange it was and commenting on it and never getting an answer to my question. The only thing she said was “Do you wanna play?” My brothers and I weren’t as shocked as one might’ve guessed we would be. There weren’t that many people on this road or the paved one it led to, so we weren’t surprised that maybe one of the grandchildren or child of another resident had taken to wandering the roads or woods as we had. So when she had asked us to play with her we didn’t even respond, we just stood up and played with her for hours until we were called in for dinner as the sun set. We all waved by to the little girl in the bamboo and ran back to the house, laughing as we went.
My grandmother is a short woman with black hair while my grandfather could be described as Santa, all he’s missing is the long white beard. They’re very kind people, always have been. Very Christian as well, praying before every meal, going to bed and waking up. We prayed with them of course, being children and all. I remember asking my grandmother asking about the little girl and suddenly we were all being whisked off the property by my parents within the hour. For the second time that day I had not gotten a response to any questions I had asked, an oddity for my curious 12-year-old self, I was entering middle school and considered myself an adult and above not getting the answers I wanted.
When I got home I asked my parents what was wrong with my grandparents and why they hadn’t answered my question. I knew something bad had happened out there from their reactions but no one had told me exactly what had happened. My exact question to them was “What happened to the girl in the fluffy coat?!” there may have been a foot stomping as well.
My exasperated parents sat me down and told me that near the beginning of World War II a German family had moved in on that dirt lane, long before grandparents had owned the land, and the husband went off to fight for America. He came back before it ended due to injuries, a changed man. The family lived there for years, having many children but only one daughter. The pilot treasured his daughter more than his own life. He put everything he had into her wellbeing. Then one winter night, she had been sent out to try and draw water from the well out back. She pulled her fathers oversized coat on and went out. Then the pilot snapped and picked up his service revolver. He shot his wife and four children before shooting himself on the front lawn.
After not seeing any of them in town for a while one of the wife’s friends went with her husband to check on them and they found him laying spread eagle in the weeds. Using the phone inside the husband dialed the police and the wife went to check on her friend and the children. Some animals had gotten into the house somehow and had eaten the corpses of all the residents inside. Once the police came the family friends left. The police counted four bodies inside the house and one outside it. The body of the daughter was nowhere to be seen. After searching the woods, they found her in the well, her body having become bloated due to the water exposure.
“Now they demolished the house so your grandparents didn’t buy that house.” My mother hurried to assure me. “The family lived closer to the main road and eventually your grandparents bought the property and expanded further into the woods.”
Hearing the story put me off of going out into those woods for a long time. I stayed with my grandparents occasionally but took to reading in the den, where I could be seen and see my brothers on the lawn, and I noticed grandfather took to keeping his rifle case closer to his recliner.
The older I got the less I went out there. Eventually just stopping altogether. That is, until I heard they were going on vacation during the upcoming summer and needed someone to house sit for them, tidy up and make sure their plants survived. Now at age 20 I had just finished my second year of college and was looking not to be bothered by family, the cottage out in the woods became a blessing to me. A place I could live on my own at, food, drink, and wifi all paid for.
I spent the week before my grandparents left helping them prepare and pack, they were going to Big Bend, California, Illinois, then back home. The journey would take them the better half of the summer just to get around the country and I was so excited to be truly on my own.
The first month consisted of my going to work, and binging cop shows and other things that I could find online, staying inside as much as I could, eventually I grew bored of that and decided to pull my boots out and go for a hike. I had a good chunk of land at my disposal although I was still put off by the story of the little girl I figured it was just a story and nothing more.
Grabbing a book, a soda, and a sandwich I tossed them into a satchel and set out. After a coupe hours or so I found myself a nice little patch of bamboo with a flat little circle in the center and decided to take my lunch. I lost myself in the book until I heard a small voice call out to me. “Do you wanna play?” Looking up I didn’t see anyone and decided maybe I should play some music and put my earbuds in, and headed deeper into the woods.
The woods grew thicker the deeper I went, trees becoming closer and closer together, sometimes so close they started to look like people out of the corner of my eyes. I decided it was probably time to head back home and turned to make my way back to the cottage. And I know it was my brain playing tricks on my but I swear that I saw a little girl in the distance on my way back.
As time went on I eventually braved going deeper into the woods, staying out there until I could just hear the night creatures start stirring around me. I soon found the well my parents had spoken of in the story but it was much less than I had ever thought. In my young age I was picturing a large stone circle with a wooden frame and a bucket with rope. What I found was a small wooden thing that came up to my waist that was boarded shut once upon a time but had buckled under some unknown pressure.
That’s when I heard the gunshots. Five shots were fired in total. Three in quick succession, one that followed it about a minute after and then one last shot. Then silence. No animals made any noise, no bugs crawled. I discovered that after that last shot was fired I held my breath until I absolutely couldn’t any more. I couldn’t pinpoint the direction the shots had come from so I couldn’t go the other way. I just sat on the edge of the well waiting for something else to happen.
I sat there all night, playing games on my phone until it died and after it did I went back to the cottage. It sat undisturbed. I circled around it and found no holes in the sides or doors and went in, holding my puny little pocket knife like I had seen action heroes do. Nothing was wrong in the house. On the front lawn was a pistol. This was when I suddenly realized I had to call the cops. Shots had been fired and they had probably come from this gun. The police came, took my statement and the gun, telling me it might’ve been a hunter or any of the neighbors practicing, because noise does travel.
I didn’t sleep at all that night and when I did finally fall asleep the next day I could only dream of that little girl, her body tossed into the well by the man that loved her more than anything. I found my grandfather’s rifle and set it up next to the chair like he had so many years before. I wasn’t going to let ghosts get the better of me.
A week after I found the pistol I got a phone call from my grandparents asking if everything was alright. I said that everything was absolutely fine and I had just gotten a little worked up over nothing was all. After reassuring them for half an hour I decided that it was time for me to finally face this little girl or whatever was actually going on.
Setting out to city hall or wherever the city kept their records, I had to know if this family had really lived there or even existed. After spending three days searching I found that the ‘Werden’ family had indeed lived on the property and murders had occurred on the property but had not been committed by the father. They had been committed by a stranger that had heard of German people living on American soil and decided they were Nazis.
Jacob Sorrenson killed the Werden family in cold blood, executing them all on the front lawn, youngest to oldest. He was only caught because he bragged about it in the bar hours later. They could never find the body of the little girl though. Sorrenson claimed he killed all of them but would never reveal the location of the little girl’s body. Feeling sickened I went to my parents’ house and slept on their couch for the night.
Going back out there the next day with fresh eves I decided to search for the possible grave of the Werden girl. I didn’t know what I’d do if I did find it, I just knew I had to. I spent the rest of the summer looking for anything that could resemble a nearly 60-year-old grave, researched what could possibly indicate a body is buried somewhere but found nothing out in those woods or near the well.
Eventually my grandparents returned from their trip and asked me if I was okay and I confirmed that I was indeed fine, I had just been a little spooked. After all, how do you tell someone they built a house on the grave of a little girl?
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cynergy-laughter · 7 years
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Dream Daddy Fanfic #2
Lasagna Nights (Hugo x Dadsona) [Word Count: 2437]
By: Brendon Cetinkaya ( @cynergy-laughter )
~~~
It’s three weeks since you threw the graduation party for Amanda, when you sat under the cherry tree and spent the rest of the party with Hugo. You two were so happy to be a part of each other’s lives and to just be a good match. You sigh as you realize that you are sitting at home, no pants on, word jumbles in hand, and Shark Hunter Lip Sync Battles going on in the background of your living room. It’s been three weeks man, organize yourself, you haven’t even gotten your coffee yet! You thought about Hugo some more, and decided to hit him up. You go to your computer and type away at your keyboard to Hugo’s Dadbook messenger.
“Hey babe, I know it’s kinda weird for me to be messaging you since we’re practically boyfriends, do you think you’d wanna have a family dinner, Amanda’s gonna be coming home this weekend, and it would be nice if we got together.”
You hit send and not 2 minutes later, a reply came:
Hey babe! It’s not weird at all. I’m glad that you sent me that. Ernest and I are having Lasagna Night, we can always put it off until Amanda comes home.”
“Actually, she’ll be coming home tomorrow morning, we can make it a whole family time kinda shindig.”
“That works! Although Ernest usually looks forward to Lasagna Night, so I’m gonna have to find something else to eat…”
“Hmm… try… ooh! Try pizza! Can’t go wrong with pizza.”
“That’s true, thank you so much! I shall see you and Amanda tomorrow.”
It’s all set now, two families coming together to form one single family, if only for a single day. Maybe one day, it could become a reality. But until then, you and your word jumbles had to retire for the night. You turned the TV off and after shutting off the lights, you began to text Amanda about what was going to be going down tomorrow. You couldn’t even wait to go over. As you lay your head to rest and closed your eyes, you suddenly open them, and turn to look up at the ceiling and wonder what you were gonna bring to the dinner.
The next day, you grogged yourself awake, got your bathroom and coffee routine over with and got dressed. You worked on jumbles until you heard the familiar rumble of Amanda’s car, and then proceeded to Dad hug all throughout your reunion with Amanda. But before you both left for Hugo’s you decided to gather up some ingredients at the store for dessert.
“So, Dad, we’re having dinner with Hugo and Ernest, huh?” Amanda asked as you went through the market.
“Yeah… I thought it would be a fun thing to do, you know, get to know Hugo on a side that doesn’t determine whether you pass or fail in life.” You say as you began to grab some ingredients for brownies, you experimented a lot of recipes with Joseph and finally found the perfect ratio of sweet to bring the confections to life standards rather than Type 2 standards.
“Alright, sounds like it could be fun… But just to remind you, I will headlock Ernest if he talks crap about my favorite Dadtron.” She said as she pushed the cart, leaning into the child’s basket and cart handlebar.
“Easy, Panda. He’s like 14, he’s just going into freshman year of high school after the summer.” You said, touched that she’d defend your honor.
“Well, what would you do? He’s an angry, angsty, and not afraid to say what he wants. How can I combat that?” She asked.
“Well, pop quiz, what is the best way to torture a little brother figure when he annoys you or your siblings?” You ask, smirking, especially since you are her father. Amanda put her hand on her chin, leaning more into the cart, then, a light bulb turned on.
“Ah! Hehe, I gotcha. This is gonna be an interesting day.” Amanda finger gunned you as you both continued to shop, eventually changing the subject about how Amanda was doing in college. After paying, you both drive back to the cul-de-sac and park right in Hugo’s driveway. As you get out of the car, you could hear a loud vacuum sound coming from the open windows, it was like an alarm, but for every dog that feared that dastardly machine.
“How much you wanna bet that it’s Hugo cleaning up?” You ask quietly to Amanda.
“I don’t need to bet, Hugo’s definitely cleaning up.” Amanda chuckled as you both went up to the front door and knock. The vacuum was still going on while the door opened, revealing Hugo’s smiling face, he looked like seeing you was the highlight of his day.
“Ah, babe! Come on in, sorry we thought we had a lot more time.” Hugo invited, holding the door open for them. “Ah, Amanda, I hope you’re doing well at the university.”
You both went inside and exchange hellos before you actually see Ernest vacuuming, but only for a second before he turns it off and scurries away to put away the vacuum. You guess he didn’t want anyone else to witness that him actually cleaning. You both thought it was a weird to get a glimpse of it, hell, you could have sworn that you saw Ernest with his hoodie around his waist, actually showing his hair. Well, when he came back he had his hoodie back on,  he was back to his usual, aloof self. After getting greetings out of the way, you and Hugo went into the kitchen and started making dinner. Meanwhile, Amanda was sitting with Ernest in the living room, watching Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers.
“...What is this show even about?” Ernest asked Amanda, raising an eyebrow.
“If the show’s title isn’t clue enough, then you are really missing out. Luckily, my dad hooked me up with the complete series.” Amanda smirked and showed the box set. “You have a long way to drive, junior Ice Road Ghost Trucker.” She was determined.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you were busy making your brownie recipe and Hugo was working on layering the lasagna.
“The trick to good lasagna is a good sauce, and start the layering off with that sauce, you don’t need any cooking spray.” Hugo explained.
“Really? I thought everything in a glass pan needed cooking spray.” You assumed.
“Oh not lasagna, I maybe a bad cook, but the one thing that I’ve practiced on is Lasagna, I’ve made every mistake in the book, and I feel like I’ve gotten down to the best cheeses to use for it.” Hugo assured, as he put on the pasta sheets, then a layer of ricotta, another layer of pasta, and some more meat sauce, “And boiling lasagna noodles? Don’t even, the sauce cooks the pasta.”
“Umm, I’m pretty sure everyone knew that, babe…” You rose your brow, a bit taken back about what you heard.
“I did that in my first culinary class, and my teacher always said it was a... extreme beginner’s mistake… The lasagna was overcooked when it was done…” Hugo admitted, blushing embarrassed.
“So, is lasagna the only thing you know how to cook?” You asked, as you sprayed another glass pan down for your brownies.
“Yeah, that’s why Ernest always looks forward to Lasagna night, which is every 4 weekends, when I’m not grading or working.”
“You know, I could always help teach you to cook some more if you want. I’m sure Ernest would appreciate more home-cooked, non-Italian foods.”
“You think so?”
“I know for a fact, Amanda grew tired of us always going out, and she wanted me to cook. I knew nothing about it, so I always asked Alex to help teach me to cook. Amanda loved it! Now she can’t get enough of eating out. I think Ernest is the same.” You finished mixing, poured the brownie batter into the pan, covered it and put it in the fridge. Then you go over behind Hugo and wrap your arms around his waist. He turns his head with a blush and smiles at you.
“I would always be willing to learn something new with you…” Hugo said, kissing you on the lips. You kiss right on back, but not before there a sound of disgust from the doorway of the kitchen.
“Eww! God, that’s fuckin gross, next time I want a soda I’ll just send Amanda in there.” Ernest sweared, but then, Amanda’s arm came in like one of those canes that pull bad acts of the Shark Hunter Lip Sync Battle stage, and pulled Ernest back into the living room.
“That’s enough outta you , Kenny.” She teased, you and Hugo couldn’t see past the corner, but you both saw Amanda digging her fingers into Ernest’s sides, which made Ernest squeal, a sound Hugo never heard in a long time. They somehow made it into the living room, past the corner but you could hear everything that went on.
“GAHAHAHA! I’LL KIHIHIHILL YOU, YOU BI-AAHAHAHAHA!” Ernest hadn’t been tickled in a long time, and he didn’t finish his thought before Amanda spidered his belly and skittered her finger in his armpits, his hoodie not giving him any defense.
“Oh, first you ruin a perfect moment, then call me a name when I call you out on it? Heh, I’m so gonna enjoy being your big sister.” Amanda said, keeping her iron grip as she kept on teasing him. You taught her well, even Hugo smirked at his son getting what he deserved, a good punishment that didn’t involve violence or grounding.
“N-NO-NOOOOHOHOHOHO! NAHT MY PIHITS! DAHAHAHAD!” Ernest called out for help. He just called Hugo dad… you had to act fast, because he was sure to go after Panda after that father’s summon spell. You wrap your arms around his waist and proceed to squeeze into his sides, hips, and skitter along his waistline.
“ACK! Hehey! Lemme go! He called me Dahahad! Bahabe Stohohop that!” Hugo wiggled around, trying to pull away, but because you exercise with Craig regularly, you were able to keep your grip up.
“I will not have you stop their soon to be brother-sister bonding! Get him good, Panda!” You and Amanda were having your own battle and you both were determined to fight to win, no one shall beat you guys as the tag-team tickle-fighting champions of the cul-de-sac. You wrap your leg around his leg to try and bring him to the floor. But it wasn’t until you wiggled your fingers into his ribs that he lunges forward, and falls into your trap. Quite literally. As Hugo lay on his stomach on the kitchen floor, his slippers fall off his feet, and you sit down on his back and raise his legs up behind you, ankle locking them in your armpits.
“GAhahaha! B-Babe, gehet off, p-please, anything but that! Why did you have to catch me off guahard?!” Hugo asked, trying to move, but he could only move his head and his arms.
“Heh, remember that time when you wrestled me that one time, and you found out I was ticklish, and proceeded to tickle me until I tapped out?” You asked, but didn’t give him the chance to answer as you begin to skitter your fingers on Hugo’s trapped feet. Hugo was even louder than Ernest, in fact both Amanda and Ernest stopped everything and peaked out to see the scene, and see that Hugo laughing his head off.
“AHAHAHAHA! BAHAHABE! STOHOHOP! WE GOTTA FINISH DIHIHINNER!” Hugo tried to overpower you, but his weakness was being exploited, and a skitter along his arches and under his toes weren’t helping at all.
“This is payback, babe!” You yell triumphantly as you keep tickling all over his feet.
Ernest smirks and jumps into the fray and starts wiggling his fingers in Hugo’s armpits. You and Amanda were so surprised.
“This is for taking my vape!” Ernest stated mercilessly, as he intensified the tickling.
“AAAAHAHAHA! ERHRHRNEST! PLEHEHEASE!”
“Panda, any vendetta you wanna bring out onto your former teacher?” You ask, as Amanda smirked and gave you the finger guns.
“This is gonna be for my last english paper, the one that you gave me an A minus on!” She said as she went over and reached under him to get his sides and his ribs. Hugo was officially tapping out as he banged his right fist into the floor and screaming at the top of his lungs with laughter.
“STAHAHAP STAAAAHAHAHAP! STOP!” Soon, Hugo could take no more and he gotten a sudden burst of energy and he pulled his feet out of your grip, and started to get up with a noble Dad Roar. You fell of his back as Amanda and Ernest jumped but landed on their butts on the kitchen floor. Hugo leered at all three of you for a moment, before he just started snickering, which grew to chuckling, which grew to full on laughter. Soon you joined in the laugh, followed by Ernest and then Amanda. After the laugh fest, all four of you began to help finish the lasagna. After the lasagna was done cooking, you put the brownies in for 20 minutes. All four of you had a slice or two of lasagna and cut up italian bread. All the while you had dinner, everyone was having a good conversation, heck even Ernest chimed in a few times. Soon, it was night time, dinner was winding down and the brownies were cooling down. Amanda got up and winked at Ernest.
“So, Pops, we’re gonna be going to the movies tonight, Ernest, Lucien and I.” Amanda announced, “We actually wanted to do that before I gotta leave back for college Sunday. So… don’t wait up.” She puts on her jacket, and grabs her keys, and heads for the door, with Ernest jumping up and following her.
“Smell ya later.” Ernest smirks as he follows Amanda to the car and begins to pick the others up. You two look at each other and chuckle.
“Ah, kids.” You say.
“I hope it won’t be R-rated.” Hugo chuckled a bit more uneasily.
“It probably will, but I know that my daughter can take care of herself, and hold those two in line.”
Soon you two sit down after making yourselves some brownie sundaes, and stayed up watching Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers. You two eventually fall asleep in front of the TV, cuddled up together. And in the morning, you two would wake up to yourselves covered by two blankets.
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deadsy-doodle-blog · 6 years
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 PUNK ROCK RUINED MY LIFE
SECTION TEN
      “Grim.” He heard Sara say quietly, tapping his arm.
      “What?” he asked rolling over.
      “Will you help me build a snowman?” she asked.
      “No.” he said quietly. He burrowed deeper into his blanket and turned his back to her. She pushed his back and he grunted trying to scoot away from her.
     “Please?” she asked looking sad.
     “I guess.” He groaned as he barrel rolled out of his blanket and popped his back as he sat up. She smiled and handed him his coat. Grim smiled. “Let me get dressed first.” He said scratching his bare chest. He pulled his gray thermal shirt on and his green pants, then tossed the tan coat on and pulled a beanie over his mop of hair. He dug into his drawer and found some fingerless gloves. He followed his little sister out into the deep snow. He helped his little sister roll the snow and stack up the balls into t snow man. He told her to go find some rocks for the eyes and face. Grim pulled some sticks off the tree and stuck them into the sides. He lit up a cigarette and puffed on it as Sara finished their snowman.  About five minutes later he stuck the filter end from his mouth into the snow man’s face and Sara laughed.
      A few hours later their mother came home from work with another guy toting on her arm. She had eggnog in her arm and some brownies from a coworker.
      “Mom! Look what we made!” Sara said smiling at her as she was walking up the driveway.
      “Wow.” She said distracted. The guy looked uncomfortably toward Grim. “These are my kids.” She said with a little smile.
      “How old did you say you were?” he laughed looking at Grim kind of awkwardly, Grim’s glare shot through him. She thumped the stranger’s chest and kissed the neck of the guy and whispered something to him before they headed inside. Grim lit another cigarette and started walking down the road.
     “Where are you going?” Sara said sounding distressed. He ignored her. “It’s Christmas Eve.” She said sadly.
      “It doesn’t matter. It never mattered, Sarah.” He said turning as he kept walking. He showed up at the house after night fall, the snow was falling heavily and his nose ran, numb fingers. He opened the door and saw his little sister frosting some cookies.
      “Did mom make those?” he asked.
      “Yeah, they’re in her room now.” She said putting some sprinkles on the cookie. Grim picked one up and took a bite out of it. He sat it back down and took his coat off. He blew his nose in a paper towel. Grim and his sister watched tv for a while, until their mother was showing her friend to the door.
      “Nice.” Grim scoffed as she shut the door, she glared at him.
      “I don’t tell you how to live your life.” She said abruptly to quip.
      “I thought you said you were trying to be better.” He snarked.
     “I am. I’m only human, Grim.” She argued.
      “you sleep with every guy you meet. I’m surprised we don’t have another sibling as often as you whore yourself out.”
      Sara cried “just stop!” Grim and his mother stopped arguing and looked at the floor.
      “There’s Christmas movies on tv.” Grim said quietly sitting back down, feeling sorry for his little sister. Their mother cleared her throat.
      “Let me go take a shower and I’ll come watch a few.” She said quietly. Grim curled up on the couch with a blanket as his little sister colored some coloring pages from the free coloring contest book for businesses. Their mother came back a little while later in her spaghetti strap nightgown, which was a little too revealing after a few movies Sara went to bed. Grim stared into space on the couch quietly.
      “You wanna polish off that bottle of tequila?” his mother asked after a moment.
      “What kind of mother are you?” he asked sitting up.
     “we’re both miserable.” She said shrugging. Grim got up and brought the bottle and two shot glasses out.
      “might as well be drunk and miserable, right?” he asked setting them down on the coffee table. She took a shot and poured him one.
      “How well can you hold your alcohol? Think we can finish this?” she asked swishing the bottle.
      “Oh yeah.” He said nodding his head. He took his shot quickly and she poured more. “Do you need a chaser?” he asked getting up again.
      “Yeah” she grimaced with her shot. He brought two sodas out and knocked another shot down.
      “Whatever happened to that one girl that you were hanging around a lot a while ago?” she asked starting to feel the alcohol.
       “We broke up, or called it off, whatever, we didn’t get along as well as we thought.” He said shaking his head taking another shot.
     “I liked her, she was cute.” She said looking disappointed.
      “We’re still friends. She’s the bassist in my band. But I’m getting kind of serious with another girl in Grandma’s town right now. She’s really nice and has her life together.” He said awkwardly.
     “Good. She sounds out of your league.” She said taking her shot.
     “I thought so too. She must have a thing for bad boys I guess.” He shrugged.
      “She probably doesn’t know what to do.” She said taking a long drink of her soda.
      “Not really, but she’s trying.” He said nodding his head. “It’s been four months with her coming up soon.
      “Don’t knock her up. Don’t be shitty.” She said lounging back.
      “Mom, close your legs or put some underwear on.” He said averting his eyes from her. She pulled a blanket over herself and rolled her eyes. After they drank the bottle Grim stumbled to his room and passed out on the bed. A few hours later his little sister woke them both up with excitement. Grim’s blood rushed to his head and as he sat up his stomach flipped. He bolted for the bathroom across the hall and hung his head in the toilet vomiting up tequila and soda. After getting cleaned up Grim went into the front room and they sat down to open gifts, which was usually money from their mom and clothes from their grandma. Grim opened up a new coat and a pair of jeans from his grandma, and Sara a new pair of pajamas, shirts, pants, and a new handmade blanket.
      Grim handed his gift to Sara, she opened up a new stuffed animal from him and hugged him tight, excited to have something for herself that wasn’t his old toys passed down.
      Grim opened up a pack of cigarettes and fifty dollars from his mom. He smirked. “Thanks.” He said in cynicism.
     “What. It saves you a bribe.” She said with a smile, still a bit drunk. 
      That day Grim dawned his new coat and went to practice with Shade. It had been about a month since he had last seen anyone from the band. He was excited to play some music that his grandfather had wrote and see what they thought of the sound of some of the guitar riffs.
     “How’ve you been?” Crue asked hugging him thoughtfully as he walked into the old abandoned house. He embraced her hug and squeezed her tight in a friendly hug before putting his arm around Orion as well.
     “I’ve been doing okay, actually.” He said with a grin between her and Orion.
      “How’s your mom?” Morty asked quietly from the back of the room on his drum kit. The other two looked at him.
      “…What?” Grim asked seeing their reaction. Crue’s ears dipped and she glanced over at Orion. He nodded his head to her, his brows were scrunched and he looked genuinely pissed, which was rare for him.
      “Just wondering.” Morty added quietly.
      “Grim…can I talk to you, in private.” Crue said giving him a very serious look. Her eyes looked like they could be smoldering with unspoken rage. He nodded and followed her outside into the snow. “we weren’t going to tell you, but I think you have the right to know.” Crue said holding her hands together and then unclasping them to scrub the short side of her mane as she sighed and hesitated.
      “What?” Grim asked confused, growing impatient and anxious
      “Morty fucked your mom.” She finally blurted out. She watched as Grim’s shoulders grew ridged and his ears flattened back. His breathing became heavier and he clenched his fists.
      “Are you fucking kidding me?” Grim asked feeling that damn migraine again. He looked up at Crue.
      “You’d have to ask him for the full story, but he’s been bragging about it at school, Orion and I were pissed when we heard. There’s some nasty shit being said, I’m glad you don’t go to our school anymore.” She said shaking her head and lighting a cigarette. Grim slumped down further on the icy ground and lit one for himself, he held his head in his hands as he puffed at the cigarette, fighting off some angry tears. Crue touched his back, trying to comfort him.
      “Don’t fucking touch me.” He snapped. “I’m so pissed off right now.” He said jerking away from her. He got up with the cigarette still in his mouth, puffing out smoke like a locomotive. He stormed inside the abandoned building full of band supplies. He handed the cigarette to Orion as he brushed past him then pounced on Morty, tipping his drum kit over. The drums clattered and thumped with their struggle
       “How the fuck could you?” he yelled with his hands pinning his throat down to the floor. He held his fist up ready to start pummeling the chestnut pony.
        “She came on to me.” Morty choked, he squirmed under the band’s front man. Grim lifted his leg over the drummer and straddled him, pinning him with his entire weight. He started bringing his fists down onto his friend’s face and chest.
        “You fucked my mom? I thought she couldn’t get any lower and she does this? And you went with it?” Grim said punching him repeatedly.
       “I wasn’t going to pass up on free pussy. She asked me to shovel your driveway a while ago, and she said she’d pay me off. I went inside and she just went down on me.” Morty said in rhythm with the blows delivered by Grim’s fist. Morty was able to wriggle out from Grim’s legs, he stood up and tried to scramble back until Grim pinned him against the wall. ortyfought back a bit after a while, clipping Grim’s chin and nose, Grim started beating him harder with more rage until Morty was about to pass out in pain, starting to slump against the wall as his eyes rolled up a little bit.
      “Grim!” Crue said trying to pull him off the drummer.
     “Fuck you!” he said still punching, blood spattering the wooden floor boards.
     “Grim! That’s enough!” Crue screamed as she and Orion started pulling him off of their drummer He pulled away from Crue’s grasp and kicked Morty in the side. Grim heaved for a moment looking at Morty curled up in a bleeding ball. Crue’s fist popped Grim in the eye and he turned his attention surprised, he held his hand over his swelling eye and looked at her fuming.
      “Stop. You made your point.” She said standing up to him. Orion timidly went to the drummer and cared for him. He was badly injured from the kick in the side. Morty grabbed at his side and wheezed, blood seeping from his nostrils and gums.
      Grim’s mouth bled and he shook his head, he grimaced and spit a part of his tooth out, from Morty’s struggle. Grim was shaking and literally steaming in the cold as he was licking the blood from his bottom lip. He looked from Crue’s face to Morty and Orion against the wall.
      “You probably broke his ribs.” Crue said feeling that he was being excessively violent. She turned and helped Orion gather Morty to take him to a hospital. Grim stormed out shaking his head as Orion lifted Morty onto his shoulder and Crue ran to open the car door.
      By the time Grim got home his eye was watering badly, it was already deep purple and swelling shut. He approached the trailer house that caused so much of his pain and baggage. His brain coursed with a mishmash of punk eulogies, suicidal thoughts, violent tendencies as he approached the door. His hand touched the cold door knob and his thoughts left and all he could feel was blood. Blood rushing inside his head, blood flowing from his face, blood throbbing in his hands, blood stinging in his busted knuckles.
      “What happened?” his mother asked when he returned, he heard her in a foggy distorted cloud. He took a deep breath and his eyes slowly tracked to her, feeling the fog. I was like being high on everything at once. His heart raced but his head was slow until catching up to that sentence.
     “Why don’t you fucking tell me? I just kicked the shit out of my friend Morty because he was bragging about something you did.” Grim said confronting her. He sounded so calm, he even surprised himself.
      “You know how boys are, he’s making it up.” She said shaking her head.
     “I’m not so fucking sure, mom, you’re such a fucking whore. If it has a dick you’ll suck it.” He said as the blood build up and the words spat out with it.
      “I felt bad because I didn’t have any cash on hand.” She said angrily. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.” She said growing irritated. “He’s eighteen, isn’t he?”
      “Pretty bad when your seventeen-year-old son is more responsible and can keep it in his pants! You throw your vagina around to get what you want, just like it’s fucking international currency! You don’t care who gets in the crossfire!” He said screaming. Sara peeked out of her room afraid. There it was, the rage, the migraine.
      “Stay in your room Sara!” Their mother screeched down the hall.  
      “Ya know, I’d tell you to suck my dick, but knowing you, you probably would!” Grim screamed storming off to his room. “Fucking puta.” He added as he flung the door open. 
      “Don’t fucking talk to your mother like that!” she said following him into his room. He started aggressively shoving everything he could into his backpack.
      “You’re not a mother, you’re just the person who gave birth to me.” He said glaring up at her.
      “Oh Saint Grim, he can do no wrong.” She said crossing her arms.
       “Excuse me for falling out of your vagina and living in this hell for sixteen years! You’re such a bitch.” He said shaking.
      “Run away to grandma’s again, go mooch off her.” She said as he brushed past her with his back pack. He went to the phone and called his grandmother, she said she’d pick him up. He ignored everything his mother was yelling and throwing at him as he stormed out the front door. He walked about five miles by the time his grandmother drove by and picked him up. He was freezing, his pants were soaked wet from the snow and ice, his hat frozen and his hair starting to become crisp. He flung himself into the car and turned the heater on full blast.
      “What happened?” she asked worried looking at his black eye and the blood on his lip and hands.
      “She fucked my best friend.” Grim said shaking his head.
      “Language.” She said looking at him. That was the word she really hated.
      “I don’t care right now, grandma, I’m still really pissed off.” He said looking out the window and folding his arms. “Soy un hijo de puta.” He sighed. Tears started to silently leak from his good eye, he carefully wiped them away so his grandmother didn’t see him crying. She looked at him sadly as she shivered and sniffled.
       “calm down, you’re out of there.” She said handing him a pepsi. He took it in his hand and held it up to his eye, the cold relief.
       “I’ve gotta go to school with a shiner.” He said looking at himself in the mirror after a few minutes of silence.
      “Did she do that to you?” she asked looking worried.
      “No, my friend Crue did, I was beating the shit out of the friend that slept with my mom…Crue made me stop.” He said quietly. “My mom was throwing shit when I was leaving, I honestly don’t even know if anything hit me. I just feel numb.” He sniffed.
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foundcarcosa · 6 years
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ccxxiv.
Do you have any goats? >> Does Can Calah count? Old goat man.
Can you stand on your tippy toes? >> Sure.
Do you live across from a corn field? >> Kind of. There’s one down the road. ...Or, there was. Maybe it got razed.
Is your driveway stone? >> It’s a parking lot, so it’s asphalt.
Do you like the lemonade Vitamin Water? >> No. I don’t like Vitamin Water, period, in fact.
Which is worse: losing your memory or have to be in the hospital for 3 days? >> I would prefer being in the hospital for 3 days to having amnesia.
Would you ever go to a Lady Gaga concert? >> Eh, maybe. I’d rather spend my money elsewhere, but if someone bought a ticket for me I’d go.
How many black tank tops do you own? >> I have a lot of black A-shirts. Undershirts. Whatever they’re called.
How many pages do you have bookmarked? >> Enough that I’m not willing to count them all.
Is your age an odd or even number? >> Even.
Is your best friend older or younger than you? >> Can Calah is commonly understood to be older than me.
How many shirts of yours are red? >> I have a burgundy shirt.
Have you heard the song Brokenhearted by Karmin? >> I don’t think so.
Do you have a reason to smile right now? >> Sure.
Do you start the shower water before or after you get in? >> Before.
True or false: You’re not sitting on a chair to use the computer right now. >> True. 
Do you regret any of your past relationships? >> No.
How many times have you been to a museum? >> Less than a dozen, I think.
How has this past week been for you? >> It’s been slow and unremarkable, mostly, save for a few moments.
Is anything going to happen next month that makes you happy? >> I don’t have anything planned for January. I’d have liked to seen Avenged Sevenfold but the tickets are way too fucking expensive.
Are you going to be getting any new pets soon? >> Maybe? I don’t know how soon “soon” is, because the logistics haven’t been worked out yet.
Do you like the rain? >> Sometimes.
Do you like it when stores have sales? >> Of course. Unless I’m broke and can’t take advantage of it.
Would you rather be a Panda or Grizzly bear? >> I’d rather not, period.
Do you have any of your Easter candy left over? >> I don’t get candy for Easter.
Is there someone on your mind that shouldn’t be? >> No.
Will you talk to someone on the phone tonight? >> No.
Do you like BBQ sauce? >> Not particularly.
What were you doing at 9 AM this morning? >> I think I was still asleep.
Can you do a twirl like a ballerina? >> Not like a ballerina, no.
Would you rather eat 12 hot dogs or 6 hamburgers? >> I’d rather not, period.
What color is the door to your basement? >> No basement.
Was your favorite class science because of the experiments? >> I didn’t get to do enough experiments in any science class for my liking.
Do you like citrus pop or any drinks? >> I don’t like citrus soda. Lemon-lime excluded.
Last time you wore the opposite sex’s clothing? >> ---
What’s the last board game you played? >> Gloomhaven.
What laundry detergent do you use? >> Sparrow does the laundry.
Do you trust people too easily? >> No.
Are you currently fighting with someone? >> No.
Do you hang out with your sibling’s friends? >> ---
Have you ever kept anything wild as a pet? >> No.
Do you set good examples for little kids? >> I don’t know. It’s not a concern of mine at the moment.
Does your favorite song mention a famous person’s name in it? >> I don’t remember if any of my favourite songs mention a famous person’s name. Maybe.
Are you counting down the days to anything? >> No.
Does your house have a pool? >> No.
If you broke your computer, would you be able to fix it by yourself? >> I might. Depends on what broke.
Do you do cheers often? >> No.
Did you wear a hoodie today? >> No.
How was your day? >> Unremarkable, mostly. Two mutuals gifted me video games on my Steam wishlist, which was the high point.
Did you meet anyone new recently? >> On the internet, sure.
Last 3 movies you watched? >> The Last Jedi, Girls Trip, and... hmm. Fight Club, I think.
Last 3 songs you heard? >> I don’t remember now.
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? >> ---
Do you have a favorite sibling, if any? >> No.
What’s your favorite scary movie? >> I’m not sure. Maybe Oculus? That was really good. Or Candyman. I don’t know, I’ve seen so many and enjoyed so many for different reasons. How about Oats Studios shortfilms? Zygote was good.
Are you easily frightened by horror films? >> No.
What kind of music do you listen to? >> The audible kind, honestly.
Do you have a favorite brand of clothing? >> No.
How’s the love life? >> Esoteric.
Would you ever have plastic surgery? If so, why? >> Not unless it was reconstructive, I suppose.
Do you like to read? If so, what? >> There is no specific kind of thing I like to read.
Name something you spend too much money on: >> Video games.
Do you remember your first best friend? >> ---
Grab the nearest book, turn to page 33 line 6, write it down: >> Line 6 is just the end of the paragraph. I’m going to quote the paragraph instead. “You know,” said Keating honestly and unexpectedly even to himself, “I’ve often thought that you’re crazy. But I know that you know many things about it -- architecture, I mean -- which those fools never knew. And I know that you’ll love it as they never will.” Damn, sometimes Keating actually sounds like he has a brain in his head.
Do you have a favorite item of clothing? >> No.
When was the last party you went to? >> I can’t remember the last time I went to something that I’d consider a party. I was likely still in New York.
Do you watch the news? >> No.
Where do you wish you could be right now? >> New Orleans, as usual. But barring that, I’m fine here.
Who do you want to be with right now? >> I’m fine.
Quote a movie: >> Nah.
Quote a song: >> Nah.
Ever met a celebrity? >> Sure.
Do you get stage fright? >> No.
What’s your favorite scent? >> Various incense, the opium roll-on I wear, peppermint/menthol.
Are you on medication? >> No.
Who’s your celebrity crush? >> Ha! Which one.
What do you typically order at Starbucks? >> I don’t have a standard Starbucks order. I rarely go there.
What color are your nails painted? >> They’re not.
Who’s the last person you called? >> ---
Do you like to sing? >> Sure.
Is there a song stuck in your head right now? >> No.
Write down an inside joke: >> ---
Are you happy with yourself? >> Sure, until I’m not.
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