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#THANK YOU FOR ALL YOU DO BIRDY
tw1nkee28 · 10 months
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I FORGOT TO POST THIS FOR ATE'S BIRTHDAY, FUCK- UHHH- BIRDY APPRECIATION PAGE FOR MY BELOVED'S BIRTHDAY HATCHDAY
ILY SM ATE /P SO EVEN IF I ALREADY SHOWED YOU THIS AND WISHED YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY, I WANNA SAY IT AGAIN BECAUSE YOU MEAN SO MUCH TO ME. MALIGAYANG KAARAWAN ATE BIRDY <3 UWAHHH YOURE SO TALENTED AND SKILLED AT DRAWING AND EVEN LIKE- SCULPTING OR WHATEVER ITS CALLED. YOU'RE SO WONDERFUL AND I WISH I DID MORE FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY SINCE YOUVE DONE SO MUCH FOR ME. I'LL EVENTUALLY MAKE YOU SOMETHING BETTER, BUT FOR NOW I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. MAHAL KITA BIRDY <33 /P (I'm really hoping I got the Tagalog right, I apologize in advance if I didn't)
But I really do hope that you had a wonderful birthday and that you enjoyed it!! I should probably stop ranting now-
(@birdify )
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birrdify · 1 month
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Heya!, Soni here!, I am not sure if you take requests, but, I'd love to see your Kinito interacting with mine!; (USB!Kinito)!! alsoooo, I really adore the way you draw your kinito :O!!, they are freaking adorable, just a little pink gumball guy!! Since I really like your artstyle a lot!!, one artist to another!! Also, also, make sure to take plenty of breaks and drink water, or I will throw cheese at you, this is a threat!!! >:) /pos
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aaand a very messy doodle ;
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soni check tags pretty please i have many kind words to sa-
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bloodybellycomb · 9 months
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playing disco elysium has permanently re-wired my brain because now, whenever I do something dumb or self-destructive, I will hear a little voice in the back of my head saying, "hey, at least you didn't fuck it up as badly as harry du bois would have," and this is always correct
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wexhappyxfew · 18 days
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folklore or whatnot
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(a/n): for a month or two now, i've had three to four pages where i have blurb ideas just sitting in my drafts with no home or no direction, so now i've decided to utilize those pieces and do a little something with them for the silver bullets girls! AND! can happily say this snippet that i started with gets to see the light of day! early annie x brady mentions for anyone interested (i know we have the annie x brady girlies out there hehe), along with more of co-pilot francis montez (whom i wanted to do more writing for!), so please enjoy!! <3 note: LOTS more info regarding cpt birdie faulkner!! woo!
It had actually been Francis Montez that convinced her that she deserved to head out to the local pub that a good portion of the men from the 100th went on nights where they didn't have to stay on base.
Annie had considered the fact that Francis was actually coming around in more ways than one; after Annie's first successful mission aboard Silver Bullets, commanding their crew, from take-off, dropping the bombs and landing, Francis had turned to her in the cockpit and given her a firm look, with a smile itching at the corner of her lips. And ever since, Francis seemed to be making a more conscious effort to be around Annie. Whether it was because Francis was missing Captain Faulkner or was recognizing Annie's capabilities to command a flying fort, Annie appreciated it in more ways than one.
So, when Francis had come up to her mid-afternoon, as they were all stood around after a practice run, she had off-handedly mentioned the pub, and offered Annie to come along with them, "You don't realize how much you need something like that until you're there." Francis had promised. A majority of the girls were dispersed throughout the pub for the most part, huddled around tables with other men from the 100th or at dart boards, or taking a smoke break outside. It seemed everyone had their spots and positions and it was only Annie who felt out of place.
A replacement command pilot was enough of a set of shoes to fill, not even to mention what the reciprocation would ultimately be like.
"You want a beer?" Francis asked her as they stood side by side in the entrance. Annie felt a bit bad - Francis was clearly comfortable and used to this environment and Annie was holding her back a bit. Annie looked up at her co-pilot and nodded firmly, hiding the bit of hesitancy that was for sure living in her eyes.
"Sure." Francis nodded her head towards the bar.
"They're usually warm so…" Francis started, glancing her way with a small smile, "don't feel bad if it tastes a little funky." Annie watched as Francis got two beers and then pushed the warm mug into her grasp.
The thing was, it wasn't the warm beer or the atmosphere or even the people - it was the thought of alcohol in her system. She never had really had a problem until she had joined up and wondered if she'd become like her mother. Drunk as a skunk on any chance she had, downing beer and cheap liquor while her 15-year-old daughter ran the house. Annie swallowed nervously looking at the beer and glanced back up at Francis, who was staring at her confusedly (and with good reason).
"You good, Bradshaw?"
"Fine." Annie answered quickly, pulling the mug up to take a small sip, which did taste a little funky, "Where do you usually sit?" Francis quirked out a smile and nodded over to a table where she could see enough names to know it was certainly an officer-heavy section.
"Birdie and I….." Francis started, the 'I' getting caught in her throat a bit, "we always sat with them. As officers, ya know? Buck always saved us seats." Annie watched her quietly.
"Past few times though…."
"Yeah." Annie offered, noticing the sudden emotion warping Francis' eyes, "Let's go, let's have a sit." Francis nodded to her slowly, before turning and leading the way.
Annie watched the back of Francis' head, her dark hair down and curled, as she expertly navigated the tables and people in the crowd all around. It was very natural for her all of this - while Annie felt more stiff-backed than she ever had. She was trying to get better with that.
But, ever since maintaining the control of Command Pilot, everything she did felt monumental as in, if she fucked up, it would reflect on her crew. If she said something on the wrong end of a note, it'd fall back on, you guessed it, her crew. Her girls. And she didn't want others thinking of Silver Bullets badly, nor the possible swirling idea that Lieutenant Bradshaw couldn't lead like Captain Faulkner could - that losing Captain Faulkner was the worst thing to happen, but clearly obtaining Lieutenant Bradshaw had been worse. No. Annie was determined to make her impressions and personally, she wanted to make them worthwhile.
She was command pilot for Silver Bullets for a reason.
Clearly someone trusted her.
"Boys." Francis said as she approached, rounding on the group, as Annie's eyes quickly darted about the table, picking up the likes of Majors like Cleven and Egan, along with navigators Crosby and Payne (he went by Bubbles though, she was sure Bessie had mentioned that). Kidd was also there, with Brady and DeMarco and a few others where her mind was going blank. A few British pilots sat opposite, evidently quite, almost brooding. Annie looked to Francis again, watching as a few of the men called out to her, before looking to Annie who was still stood, frozen, with a mug of warm beer in her grasp.
"Francis Montez, you actually made it out, huh!" one of the Lieutenants called from beside Cleven - the name was gone from her mind as she watched him clap Cleven on the back before standing and reaching out a hand, to shake Francis' before the two turned and he was bounding towards Annie.
"Hey, Lieutenant, uh…."
"Bradshaw." Annie said quickly, keeping her eyes on the man watching as he smiled at her, eyes lingering from the British, to the man to her, coming around the table and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"Bradshaw, I don't think we've met, Curt Biddick, it's a pleasure to see you here tonight, 'specially mingling with a few guys like us, huh?" Annie saw Brady roll his eyes, as Biddick let out a chuckle, "I'm just joking with youse, I swear. Look, I'll buy you a drink-"
"Curt, do you really gotta do shit like that?" Francis said, pulling him from beside her, and bumping his shoulder, "Instead of a drink, how 'bout you offer her a seat, huh?"
"I think that's a great idea," Major Cleven offered as he stood from his, nodding to his spot between where Biddick had been and Major Egan who looked up at her with a wide grin, "Have a seat, Bradshaw." Annie looked to Major Cleven and nodded slowly to him.
"Thank you, sir." she said, stepping forward and settling herself into the seat, Cleven turning and grabbing another chair to pull up on her other side as DeMarco pulled in a chair for Francis and she settled between him and Major Egan. With almost the comfort of the men of the 100th around her, looking forward and seeing the British still watching her, quiet and contemplating, she felt slightly out of place under their stares. But, she was here for a reason, among ranking officers in the American Air Force.
"So," one of the British pilots - RAF possibly, RAF definitely - said leaning forward, care to introduce us to your new friend." The group sort of went…quiet if that was the word for it, "What happened to the other one? Too much to handle? Flying in broad daylight, huh?" Annie noticed Major Egan leaning back in his chair, looking ready to pounce himself across the table, and took it as her opportunity to intervene before someone said something they'd regret.
"1st Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw of the 100th. I'm Command Pilot for Silver Bullets, B-17. 418th." Annie said with a nod, "Captain Faulkner died on impact on a mission a month ago. I got the call and was beyond honored to fill those shoes." Looking at the British as she finished speaking, she reveled in the silence and sipped at her beer and then placed it back down on the damp wood of the table.
"So, no, not at all too much to handle," Annie said, tapping her fingers on the glass and offering a smile, "I just have the intention to do what I can for the bombing crew now and show I deserve to be here. Just like the rest of us. With a greater focus on the cause; winning the war."
"We all have our call to arms that we're answering to," Francis offered in, leaning forward against the table, "and people die every, damn, day, so I would offer you to reconsider any other thoughts towards Lieutenant Bradshaw while you sit here, okay?" The group fell into silence for a moment, as Annie looked to Francis who offered her a smirk and a wink.
Leave it to the co-pilot to have the command pilot's back; Annie made a mental note in her brain for that one.
"She's one of the best. Seen her fly myself." Brady supplied in the silence that had festered, and the whole table, Annie included looked towards him and he sent his eyes flickering around and offered her a nod. People started looking away and at each other, but she held Brady's gaze and offered a small smile in his direction. He didn't look away.
Brady's gaze was intense to say the least, but there was something in her to where she couldn't look away - offering up his own compliments in her own favor because the British had a bone to pick? She could feel the tops of her cheeks turning crimson and focused back on the beer in her grasp, attempting to forget about Brady's gaze that was evidently still on her.
"Silver Bullets, what a charming name," one of the British on the left said, "and that means….?"
"A single, tactile thing that can essentially be a game-changer, changes tides, send waves," Annie supplied quickly, looking up from her beer in record time, " I never got to meet Captain Faulkner but Lieutenant Carlisle told me that Faulkner named the fort herself. Folklore or whatnot."
"Basically means that the more you stop asking stupid questions, the more you won't have to dig yourself into a deeper hole, 'lright?" Major Egan said leaning forward, "Now, how about you all and your British manners give some respect to the lady, okay?"
"Bucky-" DeMarco started, but Major Egan held up a hand.
"Nah, nah, nah, I'm not done yet," Major Egan said and pointed a finger at her, "Lieutenant Bradshaw stood up to the challenge and took it like taking a bull by the horns, what the hell is your prob-"
"Gentlemen," Crosby said intervening, turning to the British pilots, "it's a pleasure really, but Lieutenant Bradshaw has fortified herself as an incredibly pivotal command pilot in the 100th. I mean, if you really need a visual for…such poor eyesight…feel free to come to Thorpe Abbotts any day of the week and she could probably rattle off a tour of Silver Bullets herself and fly you to France and back without breaking a sweat."
"Yeah, yeah, Crosby, thank you, yeah," Bucky said, leaning forward, "if you really thinking taking a few jabs at one of our command pilots I think-"
"I've never seen someone fly with such cool, calm, collected confidence that I have to practically reach over and make sure she's alive," Francis interjected, casting a glance at Annie, her gaze firm, as she looked back to the British, "anyone could die any given time or day. And Captain Faulkner happened to be in the crossfire. But Lieutenant Bradshaw has stepped up to the plate-"
"And hit a fucking grand slam-"
"Sir," Francis said glancing at Major Egan who held up his hands in mock protest, "if you have sort of questioning about Lieutenant Bradshaw and her confidentiality in a B-17, you can happily talk to me day or night - preferably night, but I know you do your runs then. Damn shame." The British sat in stunned silence. "So, please, feel free, but I assure you that Lieutenant Bradshaw is doing what she must and Captain Faulkner is rolling over in her grave knowing you're talking to her like this." More stunned silence. Biddick let out a low whistle as Major Egan leaned back and wrapped his arms around the backs of both her and Francis' chairs.
"Well, gentlemen, you just got bested by one of the best damn co-pilots in all the 100th," Major Egan said with a dry chuckle afterwards, "c'mon, what do you gotta say for yourselves, huh?" The British pilots continued to sit in an uneasy silence.
"Right." Major Cleven said, butting in quietly, as he laced his fingers together and nodded to the group, "Thanks for the drinks tonight, gentlemen." Major Cleven nodded to the RAF pilots, who began to protest as the group started to stand, Major Egan urging Annie to stand to her feet with her beer as she glanced back at the RAF pilots - stunned into silence and the sudden realization of having to pay for 6 to 7 drinks at their disposal.
Annie blindly followed behind Major Egan's bobbing head until the group had started to settle at a new table, away from that of the RAF pilots, whom Annie had taken a glance back to and who were slowly standing, adjusting themselves and muttering amongst one another.
"Last time I hear about their shit with Silver Bullets," Major Egan said from beside her as she settled into the open chair beside him, glancing up at the table and eyeing Francis, who was a few chairs down and nodding to her (which brought Annie a greater comfort than she could imagine), "Birdie used to sock 'em in the mouth with what she'd tell 'em. You could do that, but you're fucking eloquent with it, Bradshaw, so, they might've lost it if we kept at it." Annie glanced up at Major Egan as his sipped his beer again.
"They always got a comment," DeMarco muttered from across the table as he pulled his cigarette off his lip and glanced at Annie, "you get used to it, but it don't mean that it doesn't annoy the shit outta the rest of us. They went after Silver Bullets all the time. And they damn-well knew what it meant to."
"Birdie just never actually told them what it meant, ya know," Biddick offered with a grin and a nod, "she liked to mess with 'em all the time. Get in their heads, shit like that. She got 'em good. But, hey, you did much of the same so cheers to you, Bradshaw." Annie let out a small laugh and scratched behind her head.
"I'll be honest, I've been through enough higher order bullshit in my time and just didn't want to have to hear any sorta sob story from their mouths," Annie admitted honestly, earning a few chuckles from the table, "you get enough of that from back home. Didn't need it here to." A uniformed grouping of nods and agreements and 'Amen to that' echoed about, with people clinking glasses and smiling at her - and for a moment, she felt she won a bit of something deep in her being, for even just a statement like that.
Annie slowly glanced to her left and found Brady there - their few conversations hadn't been anything stellar, but he'd been nothing but kind to her after their first unexpected meeting together on the tarmac. She smiled at him, when she caught him watching her and she watched as his gaze subtly softened and he leaned toward her a bit as she opened her mouth to speak.
"Thanks for saying that. Back there." Annie said with a nod, as he grip on her beer became tighter, "You didn't have to, but I appreciated it." Brady watched her with a grin on his lips and nodded as he leaned towards her ear over the loudness of the group.
"You're a good pilot, Bradshaw," he said quietly and with a genuineness in his voice that it made her heart resound to even the mere compliment that anyone could give anytime of the week, "and you get sick of hearing their comments on what a whole other crew is doing with their flying and all. You handled them well, in my opinion." He leaned back from her and nodded to her with a small smile, his eyes glowing. She watched him and then found her smile again and smiled back.
"Thanks." she said with a nod, and he grinned wider at her, "If you don't mind my asking, they said…much of the same to Birdie?" Brady nodded quickly, sipping his beer again before looking at her (in that damn good looking uniform of his that would make a rock look stellar she thought), and turning his body towards her in the chair.
"All the time." Brady said, "'Course she had us, we didn't let the Brits get all their jeering out that they wanted, but Birdie held her own, and she usually would get them pretty good. Had them practically squirming in their seats. It's a bit of a treat sometimes, ya know?" Annie smiled at the thought and sent a glance to Francis, who was engaged in a serious looking conversation with Biddick and Kidd.
"And Francis?" Brady smiled at her.
"Francis always gets her digs in, they must be learning to suspect it at this point, but they should've played better when you were sitting there. They know how we all are at this point and you're no different. New ranking officer or not, we don't let shit like that slide." Brady affirmed to her and Annie smiled at him, with a look of thanks in her eyes. Brady watched her quietly for a moment as she seemed to soak in his words, before clearing his throat.
"What's this about some folklore, huh?" Brady asked her, almost innocently and sweetly enough that she looked up at him with a surprised chuckle.
"What?" Brady grinned as he leaned forward.
"Silver Bullets. Back there, you said it meant something…folklore or whatnot. What's that about?" Brady asked her, sipping his beer, "The most Birdie let on for us what that it was enough to kill us all or something like that." Annie watched him and broke into a rather loud chuckle and shook her head at him, before leaning against the table and sighing.
"Supposedly it killed werewolves, I don't know." Annie said, looking to his eyes, "You'd have better luck talking to Margie about all that though, she's into all that ghost sorta stuff." Brady let out a laugh at her words and nodded to her.
"I'll have to keep that in mind." Annie grinned.
Something about Lieutenant John Brady made her want to keep talking to him - his quiet confidence and inviting nature made her insides feel warm and almost curious to know more about himself, his story, him. She didn't have a lot of people like that back home - being young and taking care of an army of siblings who had practically been ready to call her 'Mom' instead of 'Sister' was traumatizing enough, not to even mention her lack of schooling or social outing.
Annie slowly sipped her beer again, cringing a bit at the liquid and its warmth and glanced over at Brady again, who was back to sipping his own beer and listening in on a conversation with Major Cleven, Major Egan, Crosby and Bubbles. A small smile hit her cheeks as she watched him laugh, something about him magnetic and touching all at once.
"Hey. Bradshaw." Annie looked over at Major Egan and watched as he leaned beside her, wrapping an arm around her chair and pointing to the beer, "Just. Let me know if you don't end up finishing that up. I could take it off your hands, easy." Annie watched him for a moment.
"Are you really that much of a fan of warm beer, sir?" Egan let out a dry chuckle and shrugged.
"You gotta go where the getting is good, I guess. And what else is around here except empty fucking fields and trees every square mile. A warm beer at this point is a good beer." Annie let out a laugh and slid it towards him.
"All yours." she said, "I don't drink much anyway."
"Ahhh, hey Buck, you got a fellow Saint here," Egan said, leaning over to Major Cleven and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "she don't do much drinking either. Maybe you two can both go taking shots of water together." Major Cleven let out a chuckle as Annie rolled her eyes the slightest bit and caught Brady's slightly cold stare at Egan - but Annie didn't really care.
From the interactions she'd had with Egan, it was all in good fun - he was all in good fun. He was always looking for fun, a distraction from war. She didn't mind.
She liked the two Majors - Buck and Bucky - they'd been sweet as anything, with a bit more jeering from Egan if she was telling the truth. But they seemed to understand what it meant to have an all-female crew in the group and she appreciated that. It meant that when Birdie had been here, they had looked out for her, too, and with her, they were making sure of it.
"Hey, Bradshaw, you want a Coca-Cola?" Annie looked over at Brady leaning towards her, with a thumb jabbed over his shoulder to the bar, "Since someone took your beer-"
"Sure." Annie said, looking at him, while waving off Egan who was looking ready to start singing a musical nearly, "It's all good….I'm not a fan of beer much anyway. Here and there." Brady smiled at her, the corner of his lip curling upwards into a near-wider grin.
"Warm beer just doesn't do the trick, like beer back home, huh?"
"You got that right." Brady chuckled.
"I'll be back-"
"I can get it." Annie said, her hand jutting out to stop him by the arm, but he turned to her and offered her up a wink before heading off.
Annie watched him go before turning slowly back to the table and finding Francis watching her from across the table. She raised a brow. Annie couldn't contain the smirk and shook her head. Francis chuckled. By this point in time, she'd never felt more comfortable in a group of people and in a bomber group.
Maybe flying B-17s had always been her ultimate goal, despite everything in her life up to this point in time. Maybe all her reckless youth and sped-up childhood was for this. To come into this moment in time as a Lieutenant in the Army Air Force, with the title of command pilot for an all-female group. Maybe that's what all along, everything was coming to a head as. Maybe for once in her life, she was earning something instead of giving. Maybe she was doing it all at once.
Maybe.
Life seemed to be full of maybes at this point - and maybe, she was okay with that for now.
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ashmp3 · 8 months
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my beautiful hair pins… first one was a gift from nana from china 🤍 and the last one it’s well two birds kissing in front of a full moon…
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regallibellbright · 4 months
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I've been trying to make progress on Reel and Deal realizing it's been, y'know, way longer than I'd like given I've got like half of Chapter 5 already written.
And then I decide to have a fun little scene with Beat and Shiki at a skate park.
And then I realize I know nothing about skateboarding.
So anyway I've spent about 20% of Writing Mode time this week actively writing and 80% Okay I Actually Need To Know The BARE MINIMUM About Skateboarding To Block This Scene. Think I've finally got it adequate.
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leviiackrman · 2 years
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Asami Enatsu ft. Tsu as a literal frog, MHA || Umetarou Noguchi ft. a random critter he was fascinated by, DS
Shen ft. Hayami the puma, ATLA || Margot Durand ft. her mouse friend (deffo not her reincarnated best friend…), AOT
Dámeer Hawke ft. Honey the weasel, DA2 || Natalie Drake ft. Bailey the cat, UC
I was tagged by the wonderful @simonxriley @chuckhansen @risingsh0t @dihardys + @confidentandgood to use this INSANELY ADORABLE picrew for my kiddies! Thank you so much my darlings🤍
Tagging: @arklay @denerims @indorilnerevarine @florbelles @queennymeria @saintsilver @duffmckagans @liurnia @battlevest @arthrmorgann @solasan @shadowglens @blackreaches @fenharel @virassan + @tiptree
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cumikering · 20 days
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Ghost x plus-sized reader
2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that
“Can I carry you?”
At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.
You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”
“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”
“And you picked me?”
He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”
You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”
His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”
You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.
How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?
“N- no.”
His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”
Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”
He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”
“Wait- are you sure you can?”
“Hop on,” he repeated.
At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.
You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.
It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?
“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”
He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.
“Oh! Where are you going?
“I’m getting you a drink.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”
You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”
“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.
He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.
“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.
He shook his head.
“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”
“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.
“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”
“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”
“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”
Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.
He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.
“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.
When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.
“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”
“You’re the lieutenant?”
He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”
“He put you up to this then?”
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.
”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.
“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”
When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”
So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.
“Right. Okay.”
You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.
“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.
“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.
“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”
With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.
Huh, first date?
You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.
Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?
He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.
He smirked. Smart girl.
“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.
“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”
“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.
He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.
With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.
“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.
“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.
He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”
He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.
His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”
“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”
Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”
“Simon, what’s…”
“I’m not repeating myself.”
The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.
“That’s not all.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.
Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.
You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.
The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”
“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.
He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.
“Did he…”
“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.
“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”
Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”
“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”
“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.
You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”
“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”
When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.
“Would you like me to send you home?”
“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”
“Would you let me, if I want to?”
There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”
When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.
“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”
“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.
Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.
“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”
It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.
“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”
You chuckled.
“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”
“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”
“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”
“Extra chips?”
“Extra chips,” he affirmed.
“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”
Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?
“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”
He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”
You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.
As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.
Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.
“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.
You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“Right now isn’t even too soon.”
You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.
Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family Masterlist
For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!
6K notes · View notes
eddiesxangel · 4 months
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The Kissing Booth | E.M x G!N!Reader
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Cw: flufffffff, mild angst on Eddie’s part. Smooching. Reader wears lipgloss. No use of pronouns.
Wc 1.4K
Eddie could not believe this was happening to him.
“Nope, nope, no way, man. Over my dead body-“
“What my boy means is he is grateful he is not being suspended and will graciously accept his punishment of volunteering at the school fair.” Wayne looks at his nephew with a glare in his eyes that Eddie hasn’t seen in a very long time.
“Great, then it’s settled,” Ms. Laughlin, the guidance councillor, smiles.
It was happening. Eddie was being served the most gruesome punishment, and all because he skipped P.E. of all classes.
Eddie Munson was being forced not only to participate in the school fair but to work the kissing booth, of all things.
How on earth would he survive this? Not only would he be the laughingstock of the school, but he would also have to endure the absolute embarrassment of having no one come up to his booth, and he would also have to be forced to participate in extracurricular activities.
“Just wait until Hellfire hears about this boy,” Wayne laughs as he drives him and Eddie back to the trailer.
All Eddie could do was roll his eyes; he could never show his face again.
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“You’re not going to believe the rumour I heard today.” Nancy looks at you from over her shoulder. She is sat at your vanity.
“What?” You asked, intrigued, as you got dressed and got ready for tonight’s festivities.
“A little birdy told me that a certain someone is working the kissing booth tonight.” She smirks.
“Who?” You challenge her back.
“Who, what?” Robin walks into the bedroom from the bathroom.
“Nancy knows who is working one of the kissing booths tonight, but who’s telling me” you pout.
“Ohhhhhhhh,” Robin smirks knowingly.
“Oh, not you, too! Come on, who is it!”
Robin and Nancy give one another a nod of the head before Nancy speaks.
“Eddie Munson.”
“Ha ha, very funny; you think I’m going to believe that? How gullible do you think I am?” You snort.
“No, it’s true! Shelly from the student council told me when we were working on the student paper! Instead of detention, this is his punishment, to help out at the fair tonight.” She wiggled her brows at you suggestively.
“Who else’s working it?” You try and ask casually.
Your friends knew about your crush on Eddie. It had been about a month since you confessed to one of your late-night sleepovers.
“Um, I’m not too sure what other guy, but I think Chrissy is working the girl's booth. Nancy shrugged.
“Cool…cool…” you turned to the closet, now faced with a sense of anxiety to find the perfect top.
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Eddie was actually dying on the inside. Ten minutes until his “shift” at the booth, and he wanted to book it.
Running away would solve his problems, right? He would much rather be suspended than have to endure this humiliation. This was a cruel and unusual punishment.
He watched from the sidelines as Josh was at the booth currently. He was the senior star quarterback on the football team. Everyone wanted him. He could just see now the long line disbursing once he stood there.
"Hey man, you're up next in 5." Eddie was snapped out of his internal monologue when he felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He wasn't sure how long he had been there stewing with his own thoughts. "Don't worry, it's not all bad. Some customers are cute," Josh smirks.
Oh god. What if he actually had to kiss someone tonight? He hadn’t thought of that option. Like, what if some actually came up? What would he do? Are they expecting tongue?
“You have some gum or something?” He asked quickly before Josh left.
He smirked and tossed him a pack of icy mint.
“Thanks.”
Eddie peaked around the corner to where the booth was set up. The fair was set up on the school football field. There was a small sign that said be back in 5 and no lineup to be seen.
That made Eddie feel a bit better; no one was there. That took some humility out of it.
Before Eddie could back out and run, he felt another hard hand on his shoulder.
“Come on, Munson, your time to shine.” Jeff and Gareth practically dragged Eddie to the booth, kicking and screaming.
“You’re the worst friends ever,” Eddie huffed as they backed away from the booth. Watching him so he won’t run away.
“You can't serve the time and shouldn’t do the crime.” Jeff laughed.
“That’s not-“ Eddie was cut off mid-sentence as he saw Robin and Nancy pushing you towards the booth just like he had been moments ago.
“Don’t make me do this,” you plead with your best friends.
“You have to do it,” “It’s now or never,” “He’s right there. Just have him your ticket and pucker your lisp. It’s not that hard,” Robin and Nancy whispered in your ear as they dragged you towards Eddie.
“You guys, please, I can’t!” You say a bit too loudly as you fight back your friends from pushing you up to the booth.
You can see the look on Eddie’s face as you are pushed up the step of the booth. He looks disappointed? Disgusted? You’re not too sure.
You let out an embarrassing squeal as you stumbled in front of Eddie. “Um hi”
Despite not being well-acquainted with Eddie, you couldn't help but notice him whenever he walked by. You only exchanged a few words in passing and learned about him through your friends. Although you never had the opportunity to spend time together, you found him to be irresistibly charming and incredibly good-looking. Whenever you caught a glimpse of him in the cafeteria, he never failed to bring a smile to your face with his silly antics and infectious laughter.
“Uh hey,” he spoke back, clearly uncomfortable.
“Busy night for you?” You ask, trying to delay the inevitable.
“Uh nope.”
“Good,” you smile; the thought of Eddie kissing anyone else made you want to vomit.
“Good?” He cocks a brow at you. “The thought of nobody wanting to come up to the freak of Hawkins High is good to you?”
“Oh I didn’t mean it like-“
“Why are you even here?”
“Oh- well- I um-"
“No, I get it. You’re just here on a dare, or you lost the bet, right? I really thought better of Nancy and Robin; I thought they were my friends… You know I heard you say you can’t do this. I understand the thought of kissing me is so terrible that-“
You couldn't help but cut off Eddei from his intrusive thoughts. You held his face with both hands and smushed your lips together. The thought of Eddie thinking that about you was far worse than the fear of kissing him.
It wasn't everything you had dreamed of. However, the kiss was still nice. You felt the eruption of butterflies fill your stomach as Eddie deepened this kiss himself. You kissed him until you could no longer breathe. Only then is when you pull away.
“Woah”
“I hope that was okay.” You shy away.
“Yeah.” Eddie sighed as he took you in.
As he gazed upon you, he was struck by how pretty you were, which he had overlooked until now. The sweet aroma of strawberries wafted from you as the strawberry lipgloss lingered on his lips, just below his nose.
“Um, here,” you jut out your hand with the crinkled ticket you hadn't yet paid with.
“Oh no, no, the house,” Eddie said without thinking and that made you giggle.
“Well, I really only bought a ticket for this, so I might as well cash it in.” you flirt.
“Ok, yeah, sure. Two for one.” Eddie took the ticket from your hand and brought it back to cup your cheek before kissing you again.
You could hear the giggles and cheers of your friends from behind you in the distance, but your main focus was on Eddie. His soft, plush lips. His minty taste, the way his soft hair tickled your cheeks.
“Ok, lovebirds, that’s enough.” the supervising teacher returned with an unimpressed huff.
You begrudgingly pulled away, but with a smile nonetheless.
“Can I get your number?” Eddie’s mouth was moving before his brain could catch up.
“Come find us later, lover boy.” Robin giggled while snatching your arm and pulled you away before you could answer.
“Dude!” Gareth clapped his hands, having witnessed the whole thing.
“Maybe we should sign up for this,” Jeff laughed. A little jealous of what he just witnessed.
After you, Eddie didn’t care if he got another customer for the rest of the night. Maybe this whole kissing booth thing wasn’t too bad after all.
2K notes · View notes
enkas-illusion · 4 months
Text
What’s a Jumpscare?
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Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Geto Suguru x f!reader
Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Genre/Theme: Roommates to lovers type beat; non-sorcery au
Content warning: fluff, pure smut, oral (f and m.receiving), explicit sexual content, squirting, overstimulation, language, angst, Suguru is crass with his words, kinda jealous and possessive Suguru.
Summary: What’s the rational thing to do in the middle of the night when you’re scared shitless after watching a horror movie? It’s to call your flatmate Suguru to your room to sleep next to you. Being the nice roommate that he is, he’s more than happy to provide you with a solid distraction.
Author's Note: Porn with a plot but you really have to squint your eyes to find the plot honestly. I have no justification for this hehe. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy it! 
~ Eren’s Birdie
Song Dedication: Freak by Lana Del Rey
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“What am I? A child? Fear doesn't exist in this household!”
.
.
.
That’s the embarrassing thing about overestimating yourself. One moment you’re boasting about your ability to endure jumpscares without flinching and the next, you’re sealing the ends of your blanket with your feet, hoping it’d protect you from imaginary ghosts.
As you bite your nails, waiting for your flatmate to answer the call, you feel embarrassed at how much of a wuss you’re gonna seem in front of him after talking big about not being one of the scaredy cats.
“Hello?” you hear his confused voice on the other end, laced with a hint of concern at you calling him in the middle of the night.
“Hi, Sugu,” you speak timidly, knowing you’re going to have to butter him up to get him to comply with your request. But before you can continue, you hear a mocking chuckle on the other end.
“Awww… look who’s scared shitless after bragging about being a horror movie connoisseur,” he teases.
“Pleaseee, come to my room,” you plead and you’re surprised when he agrees quickly before hanging up. But the emotion is soon replaced with dread when you realise that this is one of his rare golden opportunities to tease the hell out of you and Geto Suguru isn’t one to let it slide.
When he arrives, he doesn’t knock but slides your room door slowly so that the hinges creak eerily as it opens. His form almost blending into the dark hallway behind him, highlighted by your room’s awfully bright light.
“Suguru please, this is exactly why I did not want to call you here,” you complain as he smiles slyly, walking in before closing the door behind him.
“Then what did you call me here for?”
“Sleep here tonight,” you request, patting the space next to you on your bed.
“At least have the decency to ask me out on a date first.”
“That’s not– you know that’s not how I mean it!” you sigh.
“Be for real, this is all just a ruse to get me in your bed,” he snorts, leaning against the door with his hands crossed at his chest.
You roll your eyes and want to talk back at him but you remember that your scared ass doesn’t really have the upper hand here. You sigh again, “I’ll hold your pinky finger max…  just so that I know I’m not alone in the room.” 
“Holding hands? That’s like third base for you, babe,” he walks closer till he’s standing at the edge of the bed.
You pout at him and he bends forward in front of you, resting his palms on the edge of the mattress. “Did your dear friend not reply?” he teases you about your fuck buddy Marco but you decide not to react.
“Tease me all you want but please just get in!” you groan.
“Just sleep with the lights on,” he says dryly. 
“I can’t fall asleep with the lights on but I’m too anxious to turn them off,” you reason, leaning forward to touch his bicep gently, hoping he’d be kind and understanding of your predicament.
“Just cover your head with the blanket?” He climbs into bed, sitting on the edge.
“Too suffocating. If you’ll be here, I’ll feel safe and sound,” you pout, trying hard not to smile at how he’s already complying to your request. 
“I sleep naked.”
You suck in a breath to weigh your options. You know he’s just teasing but oh well, a distraction wouldn’t hurt, “I’ll allow shirtless.”
He takes his t-shirt off in an instant, throwing it to the floor before settling in next to you.
“Never miss a chance to make me uncomfortable…” you mumble as you try your best not to ogle at his abs. 
“We both know you enjoy this, princess,” he smiles insincerely and you roll your eyes at him before turning to the side to reach the light switch near the bedside. Just as you turn the lights off, you feel a hand grab one of your ankles tightly and yank it roughly, causing you to let out a shriek as your body stumbles onto the mattress.
You hear Suguru laugh next to you as you turn to see his faint silhouette illuminated by the soft moonlight peeping through the window.
“Who does that!?” you scold him as you slap his chest repeatedly. 
“Me!” he grabs your wrists to stop your attacks and instead wraps his arms around you. He falls back onto the mattress, caging you snugly into his arms so that your torso is almost on top of his.
“Suguru, I doubt this is a comfortable position to sleep in,” you wriggle into his arms as you free yourself to fall to the side, creating distance between your bodies as promised, holding only his index finger to maintain contact. A few minutes pass by in silence before you hear a sudden draft escaping the gaps of the window, making an eerie sound, causing you to hiss out a quiet ‘fuck’ as your hand readjusts to intertwine your fingers with his.
“If all you wanted to do was make noises instead of sleep, I could’ve done a much better job than a horror film,” he speaks softly as he untangles his fingers from yours.
You turn your head to look at his face, eyes searching his in the darkness, “Suguru, please stop teas–”
“Shhh, I’m just trying to get comfortable,” he interrupts and you feel his body turn to the side and towards you. His hand snakes around your waist as he pulls you into his warmth till your back is against his chest. This makes you giggle as you place your hand over his on your waist, fingers interlacing once again.
“Is this safe enough, madam?” His voice is playful but the way his hot breath fans the crook of your neck is far from funny. It’s as if the fear that had preoccupied your mind had suddenly started to lift, leaving behind a sudden sense of awareness. You suddenly feel hyper aware of the position you’re currently in with your attractive, not to mention shirtless, roommate. 
You simply hum instead of speaking, not wanting your voice to betray you and expose the way you’re secretly enjoying the way his body feels against yours. For a second, you wonder how this type of stuff only happens in cheesy fictional movies or steamy romance novels. But on second thought, it might as well just be a well orchestrated happenstance – two adults willing to compromise on a rational way of solving things; and instead acting on their unbridled desire for each other, testing how far they can bend till one of them breaks.
That can never be you. You’ve taken an L as it is for one night, so if someone was going to break, it had to be him. You readjust your body to ‘get comfortable’, moving your hips slightly back till your ass is resting snugly against his crotch. However, when you don't get a reaction out of him, you abandon the idea just as quickly, creating some distance once again.
“Good night, Suguru,” you speak softly as you close your eyes, absentmindedly rubbing soft circles on the back of his hand while trying to understand how his brain works–you could’ve sworn the tension between you and him was real, so why was he acting so aloof?
You don't have to wonder much when you feel him move closer till you feel his bulge poke at your ass, causing you to halt your movement. Instead, Suguru's hand frees from under yours and dips under your t-shirt, fingers caressing dangerously close to your breasts. When you press your hips further back against him, he lets out a dry chuckle.
“Thought you were only going to hold a finger,” he mocks as his nose nudges behind your ear.
“This is a far better distraction,” you hum as you lift your hand up, moving it behind till your fingers are burrowed in his free raven locks. 
“Is that what I am to you? Just a distraction?” his hand cups your boobs, fondling with the soft flesh, earning a satisfactory hum from you.
“No, you’re my dear roomie too,” you tease as you twist your head to look back at him, but your effort is in vain due to the darkness.
“Ahh, right! Just a roomie… that you keep on trying to seduce?”
“Whatever do you mean?” you pout as your hand moves to caress his cheek. He pinches your hardened nipple and it causes you to let out a quiet gasp.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about… roaming around the house without a bra… your nipples poking through the awfully thin fabric of your t-shirts,” his words make the heat rush to your cheeks as you feel his lips graze your neck and you close your eyes at the feeling.
“You roam around shirtless too.”
“That’s different.”
“Sure… seems to me that you’re the pervert here. C-can’t I be comfortable at my own place?” you tease but your voice comes out breathless as your brain is stuck on the way Suguru is playing with your nipples.
“Hmm… I'm trying to do just that… get you more comfortable,” Suguru bites your shoulder lightly as his hand moves down to dip into your sweatpants.
“Such a considerate roomie–mmh,” you swallow your words when he rubs your mound from over your underwear, “... what would I do without you, Sugu.”
You grab his hair to pull his face away from your shoulder before twisting your body further to kiss him on the lips. Your lips miss the mark and land on the corner of his mouth. He lets out a snort at this and brings his hand up to squeeze your cheeks before kissing you right.
His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling against your own and alternating it with soft tugs at your bottom lip. Suguru’s such a good kisser that you feel lightheaded when he breaks the kiss to allow you both catch your breaths. You can make out his outline as he moves away from you, making his way to your corner of the bed to turn the light on.
“Too bright!” you cover an arm over your eyes, scrunching your face at the sudden change.
“I want to see you,” he states calmly as he straddles you, fingers sliding the fabric of your t-shirt up to expose your belly.
“The lamp has enough light,” you stop his movement and motion him to move towards the bedside table. 
He rolls his eyes but obeys as he makes his way to switch the bright tube light with the soft orange light of the lamp, “You could’ve easily fallen asleep in this dim light… you just wanted a reason to get me in your bed, huh?”
“Well, I really was scared,” you pout, making him laugh as he turns back to look at you.
“Yeah rig–” his words get caught in his throat when his eyes land on your bare chest.
“Would you rather go back to your room?” you tilt your head slightly as you toss your t-shirt to the ground before tracing your fingers gently over your rock-hard nipples. If Suguru had any other thoughts in his mind before that moment, the slate is wiped completely clean when he sees the way your dainty fingers dance over your skin, luring him in like a siren to a sailor. 
“That ship sailed the moment you asked me to get in your bed,” he leans over you till you’re lying flat on your back and wets his lips as his eyes shamelessly fixate on your exposed tits. Without wasting another second, he dips his head down to suck on one tit while his fingers play with the other.
Your hands find their way to his hair as you let out soft hums, closing your eyes to enjoy the way his tongue feels on your sensitive skin. 
He moves further down, leaving wet smooches over your belly but his movements come to a halt when his eyes land on your belly button.
“Is this new?” He asks, causing you to open your eyes and you find him eyeing the tiny ring piercing that's barely visible unless seen up close.
You shake your head, “You just never got to see it.”
“I knew you were a freak,” he leans down to kiss over it, “those innocent, doe eyes might trick others but they never fooled me.”
“But isn't that why you’re so hard, baby? Cause you like them freaky?” You shoot back as you hook one leg around his waist to tug the waistband of his sweats down with your toes. He grabs your ankle, peeling it away from him and pinning it down to the bed.
He simply gives you a devilish smile before leaning down to graze the silver metal piercing with his teeth, pulling at it playfully. In that moment, your body's reaction is beyond your control as you let out a whimper, goosebumps covering the entire expanse of your skin.
You bring your hands up to your chest to play with your nipples, back arching when his wet tongue licks a strip down your belly. He hooks his fingers into your waistband before pulling them down your legs along with your underwear.
“Fucking hell Suguru,” you moan when you feel two fingers opening your puffy folds, dragging over the surface to spread your wet juices around.
“Yes, princess?” He looks up to meet your eyes and he can feel the blood rushing to his dick, making it harder than ever. He thinks he might as well cum by just looking at your already fucked out expressions while your fingers greedily play with your tits.
“I want your tongue… please eat me out,” your request is almost a breathy whisper. 
“Hmm, what do I get in return?” He wonders, fingers rubbing soft circles over your clit.
“I'll suck you off–”
“No.”
“Please… fuck– what then?” Your voice grows impatient as rut your hips up to feel more of his fingers.
“I want you to stop calling that fucker over whenever you're horny,” his voice is so stern that it actually makes you focus on what he's saying. 
Your eyebrows furrow at this as you stop playing with yourself to sit up on your elbows to get a better look at his face, “Who? Marco? I don't underst–”
“What's so hard to understand, dummy? I'm fucking sick of hearing you scream someone else’s name at nights when I know I could fuck you much better than that guy,” Suguru's tone is calm, yet he has to grit his teeth to keep his cool.
He didn't have to ask – in your mind it was already a given – what could possibly be better than having your unbelievably attractive flatmate make you his. No other men could ever compare moving forward. 
Yet you want to push his buttons, like you always do, “hmm… I don’t know about that, Sugu. He’s really good with his tongue...”
“Is that the game you really wanna play?” He groans as he spreads your thighs open, nestling himself between your legs. He dips his head down till it is just inches away from your core, “Well, then… be my fucking guest.”
You bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning too hard – it was so fucking easy to rile him up. His tongue is quick to latch onto your pussy, causing you to let out a soft moan at the sudden contact.
Your body melts back down onto the mattress as you bring your hands down to play with his hair. He licks a strip up to your clit before moving back down to dip his tongue into your hole. As he begins to alter the pressure of his tongue, your thighs twitch involuntarily.
“Oh god– Suguru, right ther– nghh,” you push his head further down to bury his face against you completely. Suguru smiles at you as he lifts his head up slightly before letting the spit on his tongue trickle down to your hole and you can feel your insides clutching around nothing. 
You lean your head back and shut your eyes tight when you feel his fingers spread his spit around your entrance. He takes you by surprise when he suddenly shoves two of his thick fingers into your cunt. The moan that escapes your lips next is vile to say the least and you bring your hand up to muffle it.
“No… don’t act shy now, baby. Let me hear your pretty voice,” he growls and you feel his other hand come up to yank yours away from your mouth as he begins fucking you with his fingers.
You nod your head desperately with your eyes still closed and whimper at his words, but it doesn’t take long before you’re cussing out lewd profanities when his tongue plays with your clit at the same time he begins to pump his fingers inside you faster. 
“Suguru, y-you’re so good,” you stutter out praises as you feel your mind numbing at the sensation, getting closer to your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed when you feel him suck on your bud, adding a third finger into your hole.
“Oh my— yesyesyes,” you cry as your body twitches under him. You’re so close, you can almost feel yourself breaking. You bring your shaky hand to his hair again as you look down to find his eyes fixed on your face. Your eyebrows knit, the intensity of his gaze making you feel vulnerable and exposed.
“Sugu– I’m so clo–” you halt mid-sentence when he pulls away completely, causing your build-up to drop suddenly. You whine as you hook your legs around his torso, “Suguru! What the fuck?”
“Aww, sorry baby. Were you about to cum?” His tone is condescending. He holds up his hand to examine the wet coat of your juices glistening on his fingers, “Maybe you can call Marco over to finish the job?”
“Suguru, stop being so cruel,” you huff as you tug at his hand to pull him closer. 
“You’re the cruel one here… expecting me to share what’s mine,” he moves up to kiss you on the lips and your moans are muffled by his tongue when his fingers part your folds once again, making your hips twitch.
“Please, I was only teasing. You’re the only one I want,” you beg, out of breath when he releases your lips.
“Is that so?” his hot breath fans your face. You nod desperately, clawing at his forearm to get him to move his hand once again.
“So, no more Marco? You’ll break all contact with that fucker?” he asks but it’s a rhetorical question anyway. 
“Only you, Suguru,” you agree nonetheless as you lean your head up to kiss him once again.
“That’s a good girl. See how easy it was?” he smirks as his head moves down to your neck to suck on your skin roughly. Your brain goes dumb when he finds your sweet spot, you bring your hands to his shoulders all the while chanting his name when his fingers start fucking into you again.
You squirm under him as his bodyweight restricts your movement. When he feels your pussy flutter around his fingers, he’s quick to make his way back down to stimulate your clit with his tongue. You root your feet into the mattress, your hips thrusting up as your muscles twitch again.
“Keep going, fuck–Suguru” you cry as you grip his hair with one hand while your other hand pinches one of your nipples. The pressure in your core releases as soon as it builds when your orgasm breaks through you. Your legs fall limply to the sides but your abdomen still twitches as Suguru continues to lap at your juices.
You feel way too sensitive as his ruthless tongue and fingers begin to overstimulate you. You yank at his hair to warn him but he doesn’t budge.
“Suguru, too much–ahh!” your body twitches violently and he presses his other hand over your lower belly to keep you from moving too much. As you shiver under his touch, you can feel the coil building up in your stomach – it happens before you even realise it and you squirt all over his face.
You cry his name out loud, tears escaping your eyes as your body falls limp and you feel as if you’ve lost all strength. Suguru pulls his fingers out as he sits up between your legs, sucking his fingers clean before pushing the loose strands of his hair back.
Your chest heaves and you see the way his face shines due to the wetness. You bring a foot up to his chest, pushing him till he’s leaning back slightly, “You’re the freak here, Suguru.”
“Never said I wasn’t,” he smiles as he rests his palms onto the mattress, leaning back and spreading his legs open. You sit up and lean forward as you hook your hands into the waistband of his pants to pull them down along with his boxers. He lifts his hips up slightly and his dick springs free when you pull the garments down, discarding them to the side.
You lean down closer to his dick, your pussy fluttering when you see how perfect his size is – length as well as girth wise. Suguru has the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and it looks even prettier with the precum leaking from the slit. You move your thumb over the angry tip, sliding the foreskin further down.
You smile at him innocently before focusing back down as your tongue licks over the head, wetting it further with your saliva. Suguru feels like he’s about to lose his shit at this, his dick throbbing painfully in your hands.
A guttural groan escapes his lips when he feels you take his length into your mouth till his tip is hitting the back of your throat. Your left hand moves under to fondle his balls while your right hand gently claws at his thigh. He runs a hand through your hair when you start bobbing your head over his cock.
“Shit– take it in, princess,” his voice strains as he grabs your hair to push your head further down. You let out a muffled groan when you gag slightly.
You pick up your pace and he doesn't know if it's because he's been hard for an awfully long time or if you’re clouding his senses, taking over every thought but he comes undone quickly.
When you rub the base tightly while letting his tip hit the back of your throat in a repeated motion, you feel his dick twitch.
“Fuc– baby, I'm cumming,” he moans as he tries to warn you, tugging at your hair gently but you maintain a steady rhythm, making him shoot his hot liquid in your mouth.
You slow down to pull away from his dick and look up to find Suguru leaning back, resting his weight on his elbows. His eyebrows furrow when he sees the way a string of saliva connects his dick to your glistening lips. He closes his eyes shut as his head falls back limply – he thinks it's impossible to get hard so quickly again after a good head but his body is hell-bent on proving him wrong.
You wipe your lips with the back of your hand as you sit up and giggle at his state. He opens one eye to look at you lazily, chest still heaving lightly.
“You're welcome, Suguru. That is what a real considerate roomie does,” you tease as you straddle his lap, leaning forward to leave soft kisses over his pecs. Your arms rest on his shoulders as you move up to his neck, biting and sucking on his skin.
“Mmh… you’re so fucking cute,” Suguru huffs as he brings his hand up to your face, guiding you to look up at him, “fuck...the things I want to do to you.”
“What do you want to do to me?” You question as you take his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it lightly before releasing it.
“This,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist to scoot you up till your chest is flush against his, pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss is hungry, passionate and desperate and your arms wrap around his neck and you moan into his mouth when you feel two of Suguru's fingers glide over your folds to part them.
“... and this,” he mumbles between kisses and you feel him graze his tip near your entrance. He pauses briefly as he pulls back from the kiss, “Where do you keep the condoms?” 
You shake your head no, “birth control,” you mumble before pulling him back in to continue your kiss. You're pretty sure you feel his lips curve up in a smile briefly before he shoves his tongue into your mouth.
His hand is quick to reposition his dick, lining it up at your entrance as his other hand wraps around your waist to lift your hips up slightly. 
Your pussy flutters in excitement when his tip enters your hole. He breaks the kiss to look down where your bodies meet, placing both his hands firmly on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he guides your body down onto him slowly.
You whimper as you feel his fat cock impale your walls, resting your forehead against his shoulder while your hands caress his biceps. When he's filled you up to the hilt, he holds you steady, letting you adjust to his size.
“Sugu–”
“And this,” he whispers as he lifts your hips up with ease before slamming you down onto his cock in one swift motion. Your nails dig into his skin at this and you scream his name, your brain going numb when his pace fastens.
“Yes yes, right th– ahh,” your voice is slurry as you bite into the skin of his shoulder to keep yourself from losing your sanity completely– as if that were still an option. 
“S-stop squeezing me so tight,” he sighs when your walls twitch around him. You bury your face into his neck, whimpering at the sensation as his tip kisses the right spot each time he shoves deep into you.
Suguru loosens his grip around your waist as he slows down and it's only then that you realise just how tight his hold was. But the thought slips your mind just as quickly as it arrives when he lies you down till your back is on the mattress with him on top of you.
With his dick still buried deep inside you, he readjusts your legs to hook them over his shoulders and folding you in half as he towers over you.
His lips meet yours as he pins your arms down to your sides, intertwining his fingers with yours. It's a simple act but it has you feeling butterflies in your stomach.
“I want you…” he bites your lower lip lightly before releasing it, “...so bad...”
You hum into the kiss at his sweet nothings, not really being able to focus on the words he's spilling between kisses. You feel lightheaded – the way he kisses you softly is soon contrasted by the rough thrusts of his hips as he begins to pound into you mercilessly.
You cry against his lips as tears escape your eyes at how deliciously he's filling you up. Suguru kisses your cheek hastily before moving down to your neck to decorate your skin with his markings.
“Oh–mmph– god, Suguru,” you sob as he picks up his pace. You feel your mind going blank with each thrust – in that moment, you have nothing in your thoughts expect for Suguru and his cock.
Your moans get a pitch higher when he brings a hand down to play with your clit. It's the tipping point for you when his fingers and dick work in unison to bring you closer to your release.
You feel your pussy flutter around his length and he groans into your neck once again. He knows he won't last much long so he maintains a steady rhythm, rubbing your clit in a way that's eliciting a chain of lewd moans from you.
Your body convulses violently, his body weight on top of yours holds you in place as you reach your orgasm. Within seconds, you hear him hiss cusses into your ear as his dick twitches inside you and his cum paints your walls. Your vision gets blurry and you close your eyes, your breathing gets ragged as your body melts onto the bed and you’re pretty sure you would've passed out if not for Suguru’s sloppy thrusts coming to a gradual stop. He slides your legs down his shoulders gently and you let them slump to the sides.
“Baby, you good?” His breath fans your face and you look at him with half-lidded eyes. You let out a tired chuckle at the concerned look on his face. You simply nod at him as you slowly bring your hands up to hook them around his neck, playing with the hair on his nape.
“Let's get you cleaned up,” he kisses your nose, “then you can rest all you want.” 
You pull him in for a lazy kiss and he obliges, wanting to relish in this moment a little bit longer.
~
You don't remember how you fell asleep but when you wake up to the almost blaring sound of your doorbell ringing, you find your body impossibly closer to his. Your face is almost buried in his chest with your arms and legs tangled with his, caging you into his whole being.
You pull away softly, wondering how you even managed to fall asleep in such an awkward position. You lean forward to kiss his forehead but move back in a haste when you hear the bell ring again, quietly getting out of the bed.
Putting on your pants and t-shirt, you make your way out of your room and to the main door.
Your surprise is evident on your face when you spot Marco standing in front of you.
“Hey…” you greet him, already feeling a weird sense of embarrassment creeping over you.
“Did I wake you up? I thought you’d be awake by now,” he checks his phone for the time.
“No… I slept in a bit since I couldn’t fall asleep after watching that scary film,” you confess, your brain working in full force to come up with the right words to break the news to him. 
He's still standing in the doorway since you haven't really invited him in so he tries his best to do some damage control, “Are you upset about yesterday? I'm sorry for kinda bailing on you last night.”
Right, if Marco had been there for movie night, you wouldn't have called Suguru when you felt alone and scared. But it didn't matter much as what had happened since was way more intense than your fuck buddy missing yet another movie night.
Before you have a chance to speak, you hear a voice from behind, “Oh, no worries, you weren't missed.” 
You turn to see Suguru walking towards you shirtless, in only his sweats. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Suguru to be so unwelcoming towards Marco but what surprised the guy were the hickeys on your flatmate's chest on full display.
And if Marco wasn't smart enough to connect the pieces together already, Suguru snaking an arm over your waist from behind and leaving a quick peck on your cheek, all while wishing the guy a ‘good morning’ was enough to make everything crystal clear. 
You give Suguru a side eye as you chuckle nervously, “Suguru, please give us a minute.”
“Ok, don’t take too long, baby,” he slaps your ass playfully but his eyes stay on Marco, almost taunting him with a cocky smile.
When Suguru walls back inside, you scratch the back of your nape awkwardly, “Sooo…”
“It’s fine, whatever. I just wish you’d told me about it before I embarrassed myself like this,” Marco shoots back, trying not to sound bitter but failing miserably.
“I’m so sorry. You have nothing to be embarrassed about… I'm the one who should be embarrassed,” you ramble as you observe his face for a change of expressions, “Would you like to come in?”
“Doubt that's a good idea,” his tone is cold.
“Right… are we cool? No hard feelings?” you ask.
“Nah, we were just fucking, that’s all– just don’t expect me to keep on being your friend now.”
“Oh, okay, I wasn't going to… guess this is it then?” you speak just as formally, getting slightly annoyed at his entitled tone.
“Yeah,” he lets out a dry chuckle before curtly nodding and leaving.
You close the door and swiftly walk to where Suguru is sitting on the sofa. He's grinning at you, extending an arm out towards you.
“Don't even try! I'm so embarrassed…” you scold him, “I wanted to break it to him gently!”
He simply shrugs before motioning you to get closer to him. You roll your eyes but nonetheless obey as you move closer till you’re standing in front of him. 
You cover your face with your hands, your muffled voice speaking, “That almost felt like an awkward breakup that 12 year olds have after calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend for a week…”
“Good… you can't be having two boyfriends at once,” he snorts as he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer, resting his forehead against your belly.
You grab him by the hair to pull his face away gently to look him in the eyes, “Wait, you want us to date?”
He nods as he chuckles at your surprised reaction, “You really are a clueless one. Yes, I want us to date… besides, I don’t just let random hookups squirt on my face.”
You shove his face away as you groan in embarrassment, “Stopppp.”
“Never. That was the highlight of the night for me– second only to the way your pretty little cunt fluttered around my dick,” he pulls you closer to kiss your belly from over the fabric. 
“Suguru, you have such a dirty mouth,” you push him away but he doesn't bug, further tightening his grip on your waist.
“It’s cause you like it dirty,” he pulls you down till you’re straddling his lap. You giggle when his hands move under your t-shirt to flick your already hardened nipples.
You hold onto his shoulders as you move closer to close the gap between your bodies as you kiss him.
“So?” He moves away to kiss your cheek, “Go out…” another peck on your nose, “...on a date…” next on your jaw, “...with me?” before kissing your forehead lovingly, “Please?”
You pull back to ponder over the question for a moment and the familiar butterflies reappear.
“Okay,” you nod, blushing as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “I'd like that a lot.”
“Okay… celebratory sex.” he exclaims as he bites your skin, making it tingle.
“No! I’m really sore!” you complain.
“Just one round, I'll be gentle,” he presses.
“Have some mercy on your poor girlfriend!” you coo as you lean back.
“Not if you talk like that… you’re only gonna make me hard,” he chuckles as he rubs his thumb over your bottom lip.
“Suguru!” you pout. He laughs as he leans forward to give you a quick peck.
“Ok fine… then, breakfast?” he asks and you nod. You hook your legs around his waist as he gets up with ease, making his way to the kitchen. You giggle when he squeezes your ass as he walks.
“Don't think you’re getting off that easily. I'm only letting you relax now so that I can fuck you later after our date tonight,” he places you onto to kitchen counter.
“Ah, so considerate!” you roll your eyes before kissing his cheek, your fingers tracing the outline of his chest gently. Your eyes meet and you stare at each other in silence. You crinkle your face at how cheesy the moment seems, splaying your palm over his face to break his intense gaze.
“Fuck– are you sure… at least just let me eat you out… nothing else,” he groans and you feel his dick poke against your inner thigh.
“Suguru!” You complain but you break into a fit of laughter at how adorable he seems like this, a side you hadn’t seen before today.
“Okay, okay, fine!” He rolls his eyes before cupping your face, “one kiss and then I'm gonna make you something delicious.” 
“Sure,” you laugh before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another heart-fluttering kiss.
~fin~
2K notes · View notes
darklordofthesimp · 1 year
Text
Anything (König x Reader)
The 1st instalment in the Anything-Verse
Main Masterlist
Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
Like the characters? Read their fics below!
Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist
Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.
A/N: I have no idea how we got here
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?
Warnings: Graphic description of violence || Graphic description of injury || Graphic language
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“You’re a liability.”
The words rang like a church bell. You were never one for petty violence but in that moment, after he’d so calmly said the words, you thought that you just might kill him.
“A liability?” You hissed, glaring at your superior like he’d grown two heads. “I’m a sniper, Sir, not a fucking ninja.”
The captain simply shifted his weight lazily, unfazed by your temper. He’d dealt with it many times throughout the years but it hadn’t bothered him because you weren’t inherently his. You were somebody else’s spitfire, under another unit’s command; but now you were part of the 141 and you needed to learn.
“Come on, Birdy. You know I’m right.”
Birdy.
You had Soap to thank for the name. ‘Snipers and birds both shit on people from above’. It wasn’t creative and honestly you could have thought of one hundred better names to offer, but once Ghost started addressing you by Birdy, it was set in stone.
When you said nothing, he continued.
“You can’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag,” he scoffed, swallowing a snort when your eyes widened. “Sniper’s need to defend themselves too, Birdy. You learnt that the hard way, remember?”
How could you not?
The knife wound had healed but the memory of it had not. Images of the hooded man wedging a blade into your shoulder flickered across your vision. Fists bearing down onto your jaw. Fingers wrapped around your throat.
A chill skittered across your skin.
“So, what’s your suggestion?” You crossed your arms over your chest.
When the corner of Price’s mouth quirked upward, you’d already begun to regret asking.
“Simple, really.” He shrugged, “someone’s gonna train ya.”
Your stomach dropped and a cold shiver traced the length of your spine.
“Who, Sir?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Ghost’s not here. Everyone’s on leave.”
Price smirked.
“Not everyone.”
___
You felt nauseas.
Anxiety had your stomach in a death grip, and it was all you could do to not throw up. Pacing up and down the gym mats, you tried to cool your nerves.
There was only one person that had remained a complete anomaly to you and now he’d been given literal permission to beat the shit out of you.
Training.
You remembered what they loved to call ‘training’ at your old unit. You’d never been the fastest or the strongest, that was not your job. You were the one who could take make an impossible shot a kilometre away, but that’s not what ‘training’ entailed.
Your body ached at the memory.
There was a small noise by the doorway and your body stiffened. He was letting you know that he was there, his equivalent of a knock.
You both knew that he could have had you on your back whenever he pleased.
“König.” You acknowledged him as confidently as you could, turning to face the beast head on.
The giant stood in the doorway looking like the fucking bogey man himself.
“Birdy,” König inclined his head. Those dark, watchful eyes observed you from beneath his hood, taking in your visage. Heat licked the back of your neck and you began to sweat under his gaze.
He was clad in his usual getup from the waist down, the tactical cargo pants and the hefty boots being his barracks favourite. It was the hoodie that had caught you by surprise, you’d seen it a few times in passing, but up close it rendered you breathless.
“I didn’t realize you were staying with the 141,” you said, swallowing nervously as he stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the frame above.
This was a sick, sick joke.
“My transfer was approved,” was the only explanation that he offered you.
You knew, logically, that what had happened between the both of you had been a misunderstanding. It was a communication failure on behalf of the brass that had almost gotten you killed but the idea of working with him, training with him, made your stomach drop.
König’s hands got to work removing his gloves and the memory of those fingers wrapped around your throat made you flinch.
You’d set up a sniper’s nest atop the rooftop, watching the entrance of the building the 141 was infiltrating. They were going to flush out the target and send him running right into your line of fire.
No-one had been informed of KorTac’s involvement.
You’d heard König before you’d seen him, the dismantling of your trip mine giving you enough indication to roll onto your back to investigate. By then, he was already upon you.
You’d kicked the rifle from his hands but that was where your advantage finished. He’d dragged you by your ankles from your weapon, straddling your flailing body as he got to work. The knife he’d brandished stabbed into your flesh violently, and at first, you’d thought he only punched you.
Until the searing hot pain bloomed across your body and blood sprayed across his hood.
Those emerald eyes were wild and hard as he gripped your face over your balaclava. You couldn’t think to react, dizzied by the agony of knife he twisted into your skin. His palm covered the entirety of your features, fingers tight against your temples as he pulled your head forward then smashed it back into the concrete.
You thought your skull had exploded.
Fists ploughed into your jaw but it was as though you were numb now. Finally, his fingers were drawn to your throat, squeezing tightly as he leaned in. The cloth of his hood brushed against your battered body, filling the space between you as his lips pressed against your ear.
“Your fight is finished,” he hissed heatedly. Then König pressed down into your skin.
You don’t remember what happened afterward. You knew that he’d been called off by his chain-of-command just in time to stop himself from ending your life, but that was according to Soap.
You were in a coma for two weeks.
It took you months to recover.
And only once you came back to work, fit to fight and ready to go, had you discovered that König had applied to transfer into the 141 shortly after the incident. KorTac had offered him up to fill in your position while you recovered.
Not only had the bastard nearly killed you but he’d taken your place.
Now that you were back, he would lose his place as a sniper and be back to running with the team on the ground.
König watched you carefully from where he stood.
“You’re my instructor,” you said plainly, stating the obvious. “Price made you my hand-to-hand combat trainer.
“Ironic, isn’t it,” his voice came quietly from beneath the hood, a small snort following in suit.
You would have laughed had you not been so fucking terrified. You were about to take your place back on the team, a position this giant clearly wanted and now he was given the chance to put you back into the hospital with no questions asked.
You wouldn’t be able to do anything against him. König was a mountain of a man, a force to be reckoned with, and while he tried to make himself as disarming as possible it was implausible to hide that frame.
“Did you want to get started?” König asked, leaning his hip against the table beside him. He was so casual for someone who had nearly killed you.
“No,” you said simply.
“Are you not up for this?” König ventured carefully, pushing off the bench and taking a slow step towards you. Your heart thrashed against your ribs at his approaching figure and you forced yourself to stay still. “You still have bruising-“
“That’s what happens when someone shatters your fucking face, cunt,” you snapped, casting your gaze from his. You were hoping that he wouldn’t bring it up, everyone had danced around your condition for so long. No one spoke about how fucking ugly you looked as you tried to recover.
“It was an accident,” his voice was hard, almost bewildered at your sudden aggression. “We both paid the price for someone else’s mistakes.”  
“Don’t talk to me about paying the price, you fucker,” you snapped, shoving against his chest. König yielded a step and it infuriated you even further to know that he’d allowed it. “You got the fucking job you wanted, you got the transfer you wanted, you got the training you wanted. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, but-“
“You wanna know what I got?” You snapped, shoving him harder this time. König’s eyes narrowed and he snatched your wrists, holding them against his ribs to stop your assault. You continued anyway, walking his body backward until his heels hit the wall. “I got put into a fucking coma.”  
König’s gaze softened, his chest heaving beneath your hands. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your fists, you could hear his breaths grow ragged.
“I know,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on your wrists. “I was assigned to watch over your bed for those two weeks."
You stared at him for a long moment, sniffling and gasping for air after your rant. König lowered his head and his grip loosened.
“What I did to you…” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. How ugly must you have become that he couldn’t withstand looking at his own handiwork?
You turned around, hiding the hot tears forming along your lashes. You were so fucking ashamed by the terror gripping your throat, embarrassed by how much your image affected you. You hated feeling disgusting. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you at all times it was suffocating you, they gawked and stared and whispered about how your 'pretty face was ruined.'
You began to understand why people wear masks.
“You ruined me,” you rasped. “And I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”
König was silent from behind you, mulling over your words. You couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by your outburst. He had stabbed you, shattered your skull, broken your nose and jaw and nearly snapped your neck- he deserved to listen to you yell at him at the very least.
Fingers slid over your shoulders, slowly turning you around to face him. You tugged against his hold half-heartedly, vision swimming beneath never-ending tears.
“Look at me, Birdy.” His voice was soft and pleading, his hand slowly moving to cup your bruised jaw. You froze as he manoeuvred you, forcing you to face him square on. König slowly lowered himself to rest a knee on the ground, leaving him still taller than you but closer to eye level.
With the hand that was free, he reached for his hood. You swallowed nervously as he carefully pulled it from his head, resting the cloth on his upright knee.
Dirty blonde hair lay splayed across his forehead, the length curling by his ears. Dark brows framed the emerald gaze that watched you intently, taking in your visage as you observed him. All of him.
The scars caught your attention.
Winding from his upper lip, across his eye and leaving a line through his brow, the winding length of damaged skin presented itself. There was another scar along the bridge of his nose that travelled across the width of his cheekbone and into his hair.
“Do I…” König trailed off, full lips parting as he mused over his next words. You stared in awe at the innocence of the freckles smattered across his features. “Are you afraid of me?”
You said nothing for a long moment, mesmerized by the features of a man that had haunted your thoughts for months. He’d been the centre of your existence for so long, the reason you ached and the reason you’d bled. König had plagued your every waking moment ever since the incident, and now he knelt before you. He was on his knees baring his vulnerabilities to you, knowing you could destroy him with it.
“Of course,” you whispered; your voice shaky as you met his gaze.
König’s expression became pleading, “then let me teach you how to beat me.”
His thumb lightly caressed your purple cheek, brows furrowed as he took in his handiwork. “Let me pay for what I’ve done by teaching you how to never let it happen again. And when you finally beat me, revenge will be yours and you may do as you wish.”
“Anything I want?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.
A wry, sad smile pulled at the corner of König’s mouth.
“Anything, mein vöglein.”
My little bird.
____
Next Chapter
11K notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 18 days
Note
( ´∀`) I am possibly missing where it says your requests are open or not. I apologize if it is.
If it interests you (your batfam posts bring me joy) how would the boys Jay, Dick, Damian (whoever else) would react to only being able to tell the truth for a day? Like they confess all the things they like about their crush, compliment their family, admit to disliking a dish Alfred made (GASP <(`^´)> ).
Thank youuuuu~
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Jason wore his heart on his sleeve, he lets anyone knows what’s on his mind with zero filter, so him being forced to be truthful was no different to how Jason actually was on a day to day basis.
So at first he doesn’t think anything was out of the ordinary until you asked him a question one day regarding your love life;
‘I don’t think I’ll be able to find anyone here Jay, I mean what do I have to do to find somebody.’
‘You don’t have to do anything because everyone else is the problem, not you.’ Jason found himself answering before his mind could find an appropriate response without crossing the boundary of your friendship. ‘They obviously don’t see perfection when they see it because they weren’t looking at you and I find that insulting because who wouldn’t look into your eyes and see forever within them?.’ He finishes and was quick to cover his mouth with his hand, worried that he might’ve said too much for you.
‘And do you see forever in my eyes jay birdie?’ You asked softly, leaning towards him.
Jason drops his hand from his mouth. ‘Hell yeah I do, amongst many other things because you’re worth every heartbreak I’ve ever had in the past because being with you would be my life’s greatest dream come true.’
The next time Jason spoke truthfully was when Dick came to visit and it was after a long, long night of patrol and sleep was at the forefront of his mind, causing it to fog as he let it slip on what he truly thought of Dick.
‘You’re my brother, we may not be related by blood but no one has stood in my corner and was so prepared to be in the wrong then you Richard, and for that I thank you. You really are the best of us.’
Needless to say when he found out that Dick had the whole thing recorded, he wanted to strangle the fucker and make his death look like an accident. Sibling things.
Now, Jason -much like any other- loved Alfred’s food and would never raise an issue over it as he’d pretty much eat anything with his bottomless stomach. So even if he didn’t like one of Alfred’s recipes more self then others, he would say it in the most politest way possible. He loved that kindhearted man too much to ever say anything in regards of the food he’s made him since he was a young lad.
Dick would find peoples expressions to him being honest and truthful funny, but at the same time would be somewhat relieved with this turn out, as he wouldn’t have to force himself to be truthful just to get people to stop asking whether he was alright or not.
He knew he wasn’t always open and honest with his innermost thoughts and feelings at the best and worst of times, knowing all too well of how that would cause lead to the occasional argument of two down the line for himself, but he was never really given the space to figure it out himself on his own time.
So when he found himself speaking the truth to just about anyone, it was as though his heart was exposed for all to see it beating and all. It was as though all of his innermost thoughts regarding everyone in his life was being broadcasted to anyone and everyone with ears and the ability to hear it.
‘You’re so good with Hayley you know.’ Dick blurted once when you were playing with Hayley, stoping as soon as you heard him say this, allowing for Hayley to snatch the toy from your limp hand and lie down elsewhere to amuse herself with the squeaks that the toy would make every time she bite down on it.
‘What?’ You asked.
‘I mean it, you’re really good with Hayley and you’ve been nothing but an amazing person with a pretty smile and addicting laugh.’ Dick adds as he held his head in his hands as he looked at you with a soft look upon his face. Dick wasn’t still that bothered that you knew how he felt, it was bound to come out sooner or later and would take it in stride, even if he didn’t have control over what had just came out of his mouth just now.
The next time Dick finds himself being truthful was when he visited Jason after a long night of patrol and in the midst of a silent period Dick then said;
‘You’re amazing Jason. Bruce doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he never did when it came to us Robins, using one of us as a frame of reference for everyone else isn’t fair but you are my friend, my brother and I am so proud of you. You are not a failure, you’re anything but one.’ Jason sat silent the entire time and after Dick had finished he made a noise from the back of his throat, a small smile gracing his face as he looked out over the streets of Gotham, reaching out to pat Dick on the shoulder and said. ‘Thanks man.’
Dick always cared deeply for Jason, seeing him as his little brother and would gladly stand in his corner no matter what, even if he was wrong because that was what older siblings did. Dick never shied away from how deeply he felt agonising pain when he though he had lost his little brother and confronted Bruce about the entire thing, enraged and grieving simultaneously. Now whenever he caught wind of what Jason was doing as red hood, he can’t help but smile knowing his brother was doing just fine, but would always make it known that he was just a phone call away.
Dick knew Alfred wasn’t going to bite his head off for saying that he didn’t like something but would instead ask how he could better it for his taste. So even if Dick did say anything about one of Alfred’s recipe, he knows Alfred would be more than understanding. However it was an unspoken rule amongst him and his siblings that they’d eat anything and everything Alfred made them without a single complaint unless it was necessary.
They all love that man too much to ever say anything negative about his cooking.
Damian would hate being forced to speak nothing but the truth.
He’d really hate it as being blunt and opinionated was how he always was and so being open and honest wasn’t his forte and it felt wrong in a sense due to it feeling as though he was put in a position of vulnerability.
He hates it even more when he finds himself confessing to all the things that he liked and or found remotely interesting about you whenever you were near, it felt as though someone was pupating him to say these things when deep down he knew they were how he genuinely felt but was too deep in denial to admit this to himself.
‘How do I look?’ You innocently asked.
‘Breathtaking like you always do so seamlessly.’ Damian replied without hesitation before looking up from his sketchbook once realisation hit him, only to see that you were already looking at him with wide eyes.
‘You mean that?’ You said, wanting to know whether or not you heard him properly.
‘Of course.’ Damian said and when he felt his mouth open, he tried to close it but it seemed as though his body had a mind of his own as he found himself continuing to speak. ‘On many occasions have I spent thinking you were naturally breathtaking and have thought so for many more on top of that to the point you are my one sole muse.’ He finished and it wasn’t long before you were planning your first date together.
Damian knew this wouldn’t be the first time he was going to be forced to speak the truth and the second time came in him actually complimenting Tim on his smarts and combat prowess, something that he’d rather drink pure poison before ever admitting out of pride.
‘Tt. Don’t sell yourself short Drake, you’re a competent Robin and an exceptional detective.’ He’d say when it was just him and Tim in the Batcave and immediately regrets it and makes him swear to secrecy, obviously this doesn’t last long after the period of speaking truthfully wears off and Damian goes back to being his blunt, straightforward, unapologetic self.
Damian loves Alfred’s cooking, but all of his cooking weren’t Damian’s favourite and while he wouldn’t hesitate to tell others how he felt, he didn’t feel the same when it came to Alfred’s cooking despite the man being nothing but kind and open minded.
So if he ever were to speak about his least favourite food Alfred had ever made and even when Alfred was more then accepting of his opinion, Damian would try to help Alfred however he could in return for his comments about his cooking. Alfred was probably one person he’d never want to hurt with his words.
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inestheunicorn · 8 months
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What are some local birds you can find where you live? 🐦 As always, thanks for all the love on my birdie necklaces! These take me long to make, so your support is the best motivation! 🎃
There are still birdies looking for a nest on my shop 🍄 The chain, rings and clasps are made for stainless steel, so babes with sensitive skin should be safe 🖤 You can find them here guys!!
Alsoooo, this was my first time making acrylic necklaces too. I wanted to give these a try since there are some limitations with what I can do with the clay pendants and I already have so many ideas I want to try with acrylics too 👀
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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months
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Hi! I know you just wrote a cockwarming fic with Alastor, but I was just wondering if you would be able to do one with Lucifer? I’m drooling just thinking about it. Thank you!
absolutely i don’t mind doing the same shtick but with other characters! i took a similar approach kinkwise but obviously it’s still different, hope you enjoy <3
warnings: cockwarming, lucifer is kinda a sub but not entirely, exhibitionism, not caught this time, creampie, gn reader i think in terms of body, lucifer calls you birdy, kinky reader and kinky luci, also not proofread, swearing and some dirty talk lmk if i missed any!!
word count: 1.4K
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You sat on Lucifers lap, toying with his hair that peeked out of his hat. Lucifer insisted he had company to one of his all important long of hell meetings, however things went left when Mammon urged the king to come to one of his performances, that was definitely for the kings benefit and not just so Mammon could leech off his fame. So there you two sat, up in your own custom web which Lucifer was very much against but Mammon was pushy persuasive. So far things had been a bore, you sat on Lucifers lap paying more attention to the intricacies on his suit rather than the clowns on stage. Lucifer also seemed pretty bored, huffing and puffing occasionally, while muttering into your ear about how this was a scam or how he’d done this act a thousand times, needless to say you both be better off back at his home.
Eyeing up his bored face you casually traced your fingers along his jaw. “Hey Luce,” You whispered to him softly, his eyes casting down to you. “Wanna have a lil fun?” You grinned cheekily wiggling your hips against his, immediately he sucked in a breath, eyes closing. Lucifer wasn’t really good at hiding the need he had for you, often he would crumble under your hands, rarely he decided to be big and domineering, he much preferred when you had the power over him. Felt nice giving up power to someone after all the rest of his eternal life in hell there was no other choice but to stay in power.
“Whatever you want, birdy.” He cooed, eyes casted toward the stage acting as though he was indifferent to you. You unzipped the zipper on his white slacks, and reached your hand inside to palm his soft member. He wasn’t really insecure about being soft around you he was quite prideful in his body no matter the state, occasionally he’d feel not good enough but that typically had nothing to do with his looks, which you admit to being quite jealous of. You palmed him through his briefs, head rested on his shoulder you were annoyed at how the collar of his coat got in the way of his neck, prohibiting you from leaving pretty bruise marks on him. The king twitched, and coughed out fakely to cover the groans he wanted to make, he couldn’t help how sensitive he was when it came to you, it was like you had this spell on him.
Wiggling yourself closer to him you whispered to him, lips dragging sinfully across his ear. “What if somebody sees you like this Luci?” You purr mockingly, you knew he probably wouldn’t give a fuck, he’s been through too much as a king and a fallen angel to care about such things, nonetheless, hearing your scrutinizing tone furthered his arousal. He wasn’t, however, proud of the noise he made when your hand came up to tug at his hair at the base of his neck. “Ohhh golly,” Lucifer groaned beginning in a moan, he quickly fixed his mouth to act as though he was reacting to the show. “You want them to see us, don’t you?” You urged, feeling him grown and stiffen beneath you, it made your thighs clench with need, and suddenly you were onto more devious ideas. Lifting your garments, you pulled your underwear to the side as discreetly as you could. Lucifers eyes fixed on you, brown raised in confusion. “Cmon, let’s relax hm?” You asked, pulling his semi from the restraints of his briefs, pecking his lips as you did so. His eyes closed immediately, mouth chasing your lips as you pulled away, and who were you to deny such a good boy?
Leaning back in you hummed into him, his lips warm and soft, you could feel his lashes flutter against your face as your faces tilted, allowing eachother better access. You sneakily slipped onto him, wincing at the pain that you felt, however Lucifers arms came around to your thighs, helping you slow your pace. You felt every inch of him against your walls, it was hard to not whimper at the feeling of him slotted in you.
As your tongues sloppily danced together, the clown music played in the background, Glitz and Glam came up to perform, and the crowd cheered on. Beside your web was the greed king himself Mammon, who was too observed in the show to notice the fact you and Lucifer were swallowing each other whole. While the two of you sloppily kissed, saliva smearing across each others lips, your body naturally relaxed into his effectively sinking yourself down and bottoming out on his full erect cock.
Sighing against him in revelled in the feeling of him fully inside you, while also enjoying the way he trembled beneath you, not feeling the need to hide any of his desire from you. You pulled away abruptly leaving Lucifer whining, and starry eyed. Jerking up into you Lucifer smiled smuggly at the way you gasped, air entirely escaping your lungs. “How mean Luci,” You chide playfully lovelingly cupping his cheek. Leaning into your warmth the devil melted against your touch practically purring at you. “What can i say birdy, i’m eager to hear you. My favourite sound.” You could tell by the dreamy way he spoke he was already fucked out, and you’ve not even fucked yet.
Pecking his cheek you swatted his chest when he tried once again to grind into you. “No moving, whoever cums first has to call and talk on the phone while the other fucks em silly.” You grin wildly gripping his shoulders, you loved a good frisky game of fun, especially with Lucifer, you found it easy to participate in these types of games. Groaning lowly the devil rolled his neck, hands wrapping around your waist tightly. “Alright, but i'm totally gonna win.” Lucifer stated confidently, his red eyes flipping between you and the show. Glitz and Glam gone, there was some unnamed clown you’d never seen now entertaining the crowd, they seemed to like him.
You wiggled your hips subtly, trying to turn your body around a bit more toward the stage. Part of you wanted the distraction, part of you wanted to tease, either way it was purposeful. “Ohhohoo- you are- really playing dirty,” The king stressed, his tone jumping around anxiously as his claws tug into your thighs, undoubtedly drawing some blood. You hummed out an ‘mhm’ swirling hips round in a manner that could appear as innocent shifting to the outside eye looked casual. Lucifer moaned, curling into the back of your shoulder to bite down. You could feel him twitching almost like a throb, you weren’t helping with your involuntary contractions around his cock. “Alright sweetie calm down!” The king urged his voice breathy and panicked as he tried to stall your movements by clenching his arms around you. Unfortunately all that did was drag you nearer, feeling the entire length of him inside you grazing the delicate areas that made you tick.
You choked on your spit surprised by the abrupt sensation, your back arching away from him as you attempted to gain a little friction. “Lucifer please don’t,” You whined clutching his forarms that were flexed tightly around your torso. You could feel him nuzzling into your back, his heart beating wildly in his chest, then suddenly without any word, he was cumming. He moaned into your shoulder blades, bucking what he could up into you, rocking both your bodies, anything to get you to milk him. He continued to wiggle around recklessly, you clenched and whimpered at the feeling of him filling you, he always had so much in him. Finally after a moment his movement ceased, and like the devil he is, he snaked his hands around to play with you. You moaned as he whispered dirty things in your ear, “Who’s all needy now huh?,” “Cmon i need you raining off this web before we go,” things like that as he brought you to your orgasm.
You saw stars as you came, his dick still snuggly inside you as you clenched and came undone around him, head thrown back in bliss. After a moment of catching your breath you peered around, humility coming back into you, you spun around speedily, burying your face in Lucifers neck, who looked just as fucked out as you were. “Guess we gotta do this again over the phone?” Lucifer asked breathlessly, you huffed out a laugh at that. “Yep, loser.” You teased already thinking up all the naughty things you could put him through while he’s on call.
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xhoneygirlxx · 9 months
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We’re Not Friends
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Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?
warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.
*if I miss anything plz lmk*
a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.
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And that's why friends should sleep in other beds
And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do
And I know that there's a limit to everything
But my friends won't love me like you do
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The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.
Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.
So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.
Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.
"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.
Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.
"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.
Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.
He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.
He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.
"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."
Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.
You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.
However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.
You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.
"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.
Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.
Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."
He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.
"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.
His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.
"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.
Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."
Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.
"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.
Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.
It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.
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The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.
Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.
The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.
Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.
"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.
Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.
You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.
Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.
Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.
Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"
The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.
"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.
The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.
You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.
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The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.
Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.
Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.
Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.
The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.
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The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.
Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.
Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.
Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.
"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.
The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.
You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.
Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.
"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.
A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.
The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.
Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.
Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."
The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.
Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.
"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."
He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.
That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.
"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.
Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.
While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.
"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.
"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"
"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.
Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.
Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.
"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.
Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.
Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."
It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.
"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."
Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.
"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."
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Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.
"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.
You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.
Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.
You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.
"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."
Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.
Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.
Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.
It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.
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The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.
Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.
You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.
Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.
It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.
This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.
Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?
Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.
Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.
You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.
You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.
Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.
But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.
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Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.
On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.
While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.
You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.
Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.
"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.
You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."
Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.
"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.
Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.
Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.
Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.
"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.
"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.
The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.
Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"
Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.
A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.
God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.
Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.
The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.
"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.
You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.
Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.
"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.
"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.
"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.
In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.
The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.
It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.
Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.
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Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.
It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.
The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.
You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.
You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.
Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.
Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.
Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.
This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.
"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.
His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.
Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.
Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.
"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.
Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.
Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.
"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.
A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.
"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.
Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.
"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.
"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."
Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.
Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.
Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.
"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."
"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."
Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.
The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.
"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."
Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.
"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.
Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.
Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.
"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.
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The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.
A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.
You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.
All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.
The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.
To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.
So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.
Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.
You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.
He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.
Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.
"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.
You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.
"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.
"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.
Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."
That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."
Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.
Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.
You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.
He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.
"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.
Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.
Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."
"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.
"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.
"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.
Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.
The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.
"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.
His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.
"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.
Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.
"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."
It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.
"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.
"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."
You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.
"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.
His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.
You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.
"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.
"Thought you'd never ask."
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thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3
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sanatomis · 3 months
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✧˚ ༘ ⋆。♡˚ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇.
the collection of megumi’s childhood memories. gathered and cherished by none other than gojo satoru and his darling wife.
content. slice of life, canon divergence, female!reader, established relationship with satoru, domestic fluff, some angst here and there (but always with a happy ending).
notes. sign up for the taglist here ! note that updates will be slow. i am a full-time uni student with a part-time job. please, remember that—thank you !
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ELEMENTARY ESCAPADES [6 - 12] !
࣪ᥫ᭡ — midnight solace. it’s 3am, and six year old megumi fushiguro just woke up from a nightmare. the thing he wants to do most? seek comfort in your arms.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — a flash of remembrance. a child is bound to feel neglected when they discover no one bothered to show up for their science fair, especially when all their peers have someone to dote on them. it seems fushiguro megumi is no exception.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — DIY-dad. it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — how to comfort 101.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — a whispered promise.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — chicken noodle soup.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — when in distress.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — the best of friends.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — a haunted estate.
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MIDDLE SCHOOL MAYHAM [12–15] !
࣪ᥫ᭡ — oh, the birdies.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — to be loved. . .
࣪ᥫ᭡ — to fret, to fuss, to soothe.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — down on one knee.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — infinite stupidity.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — a new life, how frightening.
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HIGH SCHOOL HIJINKS [15–18] !
࣪ᥫ᭡ — . . .is to be remembered.
࣪ᥫ᭡ — so, this is love?
࣪ᥫ᭡ — i thought you were japanese.
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ADOLESCENT ANTICS [18 & UP] !
࣪ᥫ᭡ — a sense of duty.
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© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works. reblogs, however, are appreciated <3
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