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chelseeebe · 3 months

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we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

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artcallednaturalviews · 2 years

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Showed and right away, cringe face! Why, just a flower But slots a lots of folks do go to stomping Stop crushing go back to gambling To small to keep a conversation, oops Stop thinking while I’m talking Or ask me to slow down A confusion Always feels hopeless Talking about a flowered fungi Animals don’t eat Why a concern to humans Still eating from ground are we Just a flower Why crush

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1-800-kami · 9 months

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R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)

content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)

author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)

tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

everything’s been hazy.

you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.

you can’t even bring yourself to move.

so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?

why did gojo lie to you?

another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?

you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.

you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.

you think you can barely even call him gojo now.

the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.

you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.

“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”

“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”

there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.

satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”

your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.

i’ll wait an eternity for you

i’ll always choose you over anything

you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.

a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.

“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”

his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.

now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.

you didn’t come to school today.

there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.

one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.

he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.

gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.

it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls.

he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip.

however, this time was different.

this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”

he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.

maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out.

gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.

“gojo-san?”

he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“

“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“

“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”

he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”

“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.

gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.

she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”

gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”

the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”

she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”

“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”

“i’m sorry-”

“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.

“...my friend told me to record it…”

he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”

“uhm, yes.”

“so you still have the video?”

“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”

“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”

she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.

she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”

gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.

you miss him.

you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.

you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.

you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.

the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin.

you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.

“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”

your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.

“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”

you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.

he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”

he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.

the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.

..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.

holy shit.

tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.

“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”

“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?

“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”

he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too.

you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long.

you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"

“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”

gojo can’t let you go.

you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.

god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”

his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”

“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now.

he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”

“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”

his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.

everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.

“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”

“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”

“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”

he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”

“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”

and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”

“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”

“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.

he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.

satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”

“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”

“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”

gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover.

“angel, are you with me?”

“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.

when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”

“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”

“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”

you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you.

satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.

“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”

“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.

you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.

“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”

“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.

the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.

and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.

you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”

for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.

for everything that you have done to love me.

it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”

thanks for reading <3 -kami.

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dumbbitchgalore · 4 days

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Part 4: Old man!Price wants his birdie to fly away 🕊

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

John sighs softly as he walks out of the door with the final box filled with his belongings.

Parking your car in the driveway, you walk out of it and approach the front door as you spot John. You cross your arms and sigh softly.

"Done moving out, Captain?" You ask, void of any emotion.

John groans as he hears the formality in your voice, "Birdie-"

You put you hand up to cut him off, "Don't. Don't you dare call me that. It's fucking poison coming out of your mouth."

He frowns at your harsh scowl and releasing reasoning with you is no longer an option as you walk past him and open the door to your once shared home.

This is what he wished as the desired outcome of his actions. For you to kick his arse and finally be free of the bastard that he is. A broke, old man like him didn't need to clip a birdie's wings just for his sake.

But somewhere within his conscious, John was beginning to feel a sense of loneliness, guilt and longing. His actions where for his birdie's freedom. But was there truly no other motive towards his selfish actions?

John was beginning to slowly become an after thought to you as you were getting ready for a night out.

You stand in front of the mirror situated on the bedroom wall as you admire yourself. However, in the corner of your eye John's non-existant silhouette lingered behind you. Closing your eyes, you feel his arms wrap around you as you lean into his ghost. His scent begins to waft around you, engulfing you an a hazy trance.

John, John, John

Shaking your head left and right, you shoo his spirit away from your presence. You brush the wrinkles out of your outfit before walking out of the front door.

Unlocking the car, you sit in the driver's seat turning the ignition on. Headlight on, you drive out. Breathing in and out, playing ever single possible scenario as to how this night will unhold.

Regaining the lost confidence attributed to John's heinous actions, you sike yourself up through the whole car ride.

Coming to a halt in front of the pub, you spot him waiting for you near the front door. Smiling softly at the scene, you notice him shivering as the winter breeze bumps against him, prickling his skin. You find humour in the lack of a jacket, possibly to impress you with a visual of his body as he always tried to back during your engagement with Price which you actively ingored.

But now you decide to take in the sight, drinking in his physique along with his tattoo and his stupid mohawk that you used to depised, but now it's style began to grow on you.

Looking at yourself in the sun visor mirrow, you fix any imperfections you find in yourself before stepping out of the car and walking to him.

Giving him a soft smile, you hug him before stepping back and chuckling nervously.

"Sorry, haven't done this in a while" You say sheepishly, rubbing your upper him.

He smirks at your shyness, kissing your cheek. "Let me take the reins then, Bonnie?"

You nod at the scotsman's comment, leaning into his touch as he ushers you inside of the pub.

On the other side of the street, there he was. A witness to the scene which took place in front of him. John stands there idly, trying his best to let his birdie fly away and start the creation of a new nest.

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ivyppoison · 2 days

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𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒

pairing. jason todd⠀𝒙⠀ civilian!fem!reader

summary. hot summer nights, mid july, the evening breeze & the intimacy between two souls

words. 0.829k

warning(s). smut, derogatory language, edging ( funny ) oral sex ( m. receiving )

note. I swear, every time I write a smut, it gets closer & closer to the actual act. like I’ve written about fingering, & handjobs so this is another stepping stone for me I guess ── yours truly, maxine

THE SUMMER HEAT left you in a slightly hazy state as you laid restlessly on the bed.

Previously struggling with the blanket, it was now tangled between your legs as you let out a small huff.

However, you were equally thankful for the heat that washed throughout Gotham as you were frustrated because it brought Jason to your apartment earlier than what was expected.

The sound of the shower vibrated throughout the room as you waited till he was over. The heat had you unexpectedly craving the desirable feeling of cold water against your skin.

The lack of sound of the water brought your attention to the open bathroom door, your gaze flickering to the passage through the two rooms. Soon, your stare remained fixated as Jason walked into the bedroom, clad in simple a towel that hung loosely around his waist whilst he still had a few droplets of water painting his broad torso, arms and whatnot.

“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers through his wet, unkempt hair as he looked back at you.

Your eyes moved to lock with his, as you bit on your bottom lip; you were a deer caught in headlights. “I’m fine, thanks,” you replied, still bound to the comfort of your bed.

“You seem distracted,” he noted, crossing his arms against his chest as he kept his eyes fixated on you.

The both of you knew what he was trying to do, but the temptation to remain dumb and obnoxious about his obvious advances made you squirm internally.

“I’m not distracted, I swear,” you mumbled, your eyes flickering to a bead of water that cascaded down his body.

“Come here then,” he gestured, watching you as you sighed under your breath, untangling the blanket that kept you captive to the bed as you made your way towards him.

Taking his hand, he placed his hooked pointer finger and thumb against your chin, before lifting your face.

Your heart gnawed at your chest as he pressed the plum of his lips to your agape mouth, moving his hands to either side of your face, kissing you deeply as if he wanted to consume your whole.

Soon, you parted, Jason’s face still inches away from yours as he rested his forehead against yours.

“What’s up with you today?” You whispered, opening your eyes as you moved away to see him much clearer.

“Nothing, just missed you. It was a tough night,” he mumbled before resting his face in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses onto your silken skin.

“How much did you miss me?” You asked, a small, stifled laugh escaping your lips as you felt the tent under the confinements of the towel brush against you.

“A lot,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his as he forced your palm against the bulge against the fabric.

“I can tell,” you replied, biting on your bottom lip again before moving your grip to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, his gaze hazy as he watched you with barbaric eyes. “Can I take it off?” You whispered, your thumb rubbing against the hem of the towel.

“Go ahead,” he smirked, groaning quietly as he felt your hand wrap around his cock, the pearly towel draping softly onto the floor.

Sinking to your knees, already expecting the burns that would adorn your skin later, your fingertips grazed atop his tip, as you pressed a kiss to the length of it.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled, as you took his dick your mouth, using your hands at the base of it, saliva dripping down your lips and chin in such a misty, erotic manner, Jason swore he grew harder at the sight.

Bobbing your head against his length drew groans and whimpers from his lips, his hand reaching down to place it at the back of your head, guiding you gently against it.

“Fuck ──,” he mumbled, his legs growing weary at the hypnotic sensation of his dick down your throat.

Soon, he was reduced to a mess of groans and whispers, swears falling from his lips.

His breathing grew heavier, leaving him faint as the feeling of your intimacy eating away at the sorrow that stained him.

Sex, confessions and silent evenings were the love languages you shared, so when he had you on your knees, your moans vibrating throughout his body, he couldn’t help but watch you with a sickening amount of love.

Tapping your head, you looked up at him with glossy eyes, taking his length out of your mouth as you wiped your spit and his pre-cum with the back of your hand.

“You didn’t even get to finish,” you whispered, kissing the tip again.

“Not yet, gotta take care of you first,” he quipped, helping you up as he led you towards the bed, watching you lay on your back, thinking of how he was going to make love to you every dreamy, hot summer night.

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neo-percs · 8 months

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LINGERIE KINK:: ( day 12 )

WARNING:: lingerie, fingering, Soobin eats you out through the panties.

SUMMARY:: he loves the way you look in your set, the lace, the straps, everything. Who was he to not enjoy the view while making you feel on cloud 9?

WORD COUNT::

He loved it, the pretty set that adorned your skin. How y hugs your curves, it presses against your skin and compliments you just right. You looked like something right out of a wet dream; untouchable, unforgettable. Soobin knew if he didn't get his hands on you he would lose it.

"When did you get this?" He looks at you with hazy eyes clouded with lust, his eyes looked misty with something dark. He holds a hand out for you to grab. "This morning while you were gone...I just wanted something pretty" you shrug as you take hold of his hand guiding yourself to sit on the bed beside him.

Soobin wastes no time to tug at your panties and push it against your clit teasingly which earns him a delicious moan that falls past your plump lips.

Your legs quiver at the pressure on your clit, letting out a shaky breath you look between your legs and see Soobin pulling at your panties and pulling it to the side finally letting your pussy meet the warm air of his bedroom. Soobin could only bite back and groan at the view of your pussy glistening under the small desk lamp on the wooden table you both had been turned away from. And just as you do your legs spread mindlessly and look up at him like a deer in headlights.

Paying no mind to the look you give him he lets himself move between your thighs so you can longer shut them, his hand makes no its way under your panties with no hesitation. His middle finger glides against your slit feeling your slick stick to his fingers. You close your eyes and suck in a deep breath.

"It's okay, I'm gonna make you feel good" he coos as he lets his ring finger and middle finger rub your clit with minimal pressure not to overwhelm you. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden pleasure as you release a breathy whine.

"Does that feel good?" He questioned as his fingers rub circles on your clit with ease as the slicked sound of your pussy greeted his ears. "Yeah, it feels really good. Please don't stop" you moan as you open your legs wider. Oh how Soobin loved the way you were falling apart and he hadn't even done anything major.

Pulling you closer to the edge of the table Soobin got down onto his knees he moved his fingers away from your pleasure seeking parts now as he had the perfect view. His hands wrap around your thighs as he looks up at you "is this okay? I can eat you right?" He asks as he kisses your inner thigh.

Your hands grip the edge as your knuckles turn a pale shade. "It's okay" you nod and watch as he smiles "good" he says back as he rips his gaze away from your face and down to your pussy with no regard for anything else going around you all.

The heat of his mouth nearing your pussy he licks and kisses against your pantie covered pussy before he sensually licks from your hole to your clit, and sucking on your clit with fervor. The lace fabric gives extra stimulation making you whine.

You moan as your head falls back against the wall. The sounds you make are so pleasurable to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue pressed harshly to your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face.

"Oh- fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you moan, Soobin groans hearing the foul language fall past your lips unexpectedly with neediness dripping from your tone. His hand moving from your plush thighs, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit, he pulled away licking your clit once more, his fingers pushing the frantic to the side as his middle and ring fingers find their way to your dripping core.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers the slight burn and foreign feeling makes you whine. He pushes them deeper; you feel the cool metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head away from your pussy he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and chin his fingers begin to move, opening your eyes. You look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Hm?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were blooming with a soft blush, you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words. "Come on, say it. Tell me what you want" he demanded, making you clench harder "yes please" you say, losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on his.

He hums as he watches his finger get sucked inside of you. Moaning at the sight with sparkling eyes. His fingers hitting all the right places stuffing your pussy as the sloppy sounds of his fingers pounding into you as if you were his personal fuck toy.

"So good just for me right?" He asks as his tongue finds its way back to your clit, he looks up at you choking on your moans "only you I promise, get dressed up so pretty just for you" you say feeling a familiar pressure build in the pit of your stomach. "I’m gonna cum" you whimper.

sending tingles down your body before he licked big stripes of your cunt, sucking on your clit, his tongue working wonders on you. "It's okay just let go, cum on my fingers" he says possessively.

His thumb replacing his tongue as he rubs circles on your clit, your hips shake as your mind is clouded with the sudden rush of your orgasm. You let out an almost pornographic moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you until you ride out your high.

"Good girl" he coos as you grip his wrist as overstimulation starts to creep in. Waiting for you to come down he slowly removes his fingers as he is eager to taste you. Soobin's dripping fingers make their way up to your clit as his mouth makes its way to your puffy lips. he pushes his heavy fingers on your clit as he adorns your lips with light pecks and kitten licks before using his free hand to pull them apart and licking your hole. his mouth sucks you hard in its endeavor to suck out whatever your pussy allows him.

Your hips buck at the feeling the sloppy sounds make your head spin. one of your hands moves to grip the hair on the back of his head and you push his face into yourself even more "oh god" you say shivering at the feeling. Pulling away his eyes look up at you while his lips attach themselves to your thigh that still sat on the wooden table, he bites and sucks the skin on your thigh in different spots leaving red and purple spots to bloom into hickeys as the hours pass.

Pulling away he lifts his fingers still covered in your cum up to his lips sucking on them becoming addicted to the way you taste. "You taste so good" he mumbled as he stood up showing the tent in pants that seemed to grow.

Soobin hands grope your chest through the bra as the feeling of your nipples through the fabric makes him groan, everything about this sight was just perfect. The way you squirm as your panties stick to your pussy from eating you out to the way your bra hugged your boobs just right made his mouth water.He was sure about one thing.

he had to buy you more sets.

#𖦹—( neo percs )#txt smut #soobin smut #soobin x reader #soobin imagines

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mysicklove · 1 year

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Warnings: sub! izuku, ruined orgasm , nice->mean reader!, crying obvi, hand job

you sit in between izukus freckled legs, quickly but gently stroking his now flushed cock. he sits pliant for you, leg slightly jumping when you focus your antics on the tip. hes panting, red in the face and eyes slightly hazy. he sits leaned against the headboard, shirtless and gripping at the sheets beneath him.

"fuck. fuck. fuck. im close," he chants, staring at you with hearts in his eyes, and a lazy smile. his bottom lip glistens with saliva, and you watch him bring his hand up to wipe it away.

you grin at him, and press a kiss to the red tip. "yeah? do u wanna cum?"

his leg jerks at the feeling and he lets out a shaky gasp as his green eyes darts toward you. he gulps when he feels your second hand wrap around the shaft, a quivered whine escaping his lips. "can i? i-ive been good right?"

your smile softens, and you listen the squelching sounds of the lube combined with the now combined stroking of his cock. "you've been so good, Zu. but i wanna try something tonight."

his eyes roll slightly back, but he unconsciously leans forward toward you. his moans, the sound soft, but high in pitch makes your mouth water, and he in turn seems to be melting in your hold.

"i can't—don't edge me please!" he pleads, eyes locking on to yours and filling with tears.

you kiss his cheek, not stopping the movements of both of your hands. his mouth hangs open when he feels your thumb rub the top of the head. "shhh, im not, im not. youre so whiny, love."

he whimpers at the words, crumbling in on himself. "sorry. sorry."

"its okay, Zu, relax. lets have you cum," you say, gently pushing on his chest so that he leans on the headboard.

but still, he nods his head frantically, and tightens his hold on the sheets. "you're going to listen to me, right Izuku?"

he already seemed to forget about your earlier words, his mind hazy from pleasure. so his eyes slightly furrow for a second in confusion, but relax with another rough stroke. "yes, o-of course! Im close!"

"good boy. thats it, almost there," you purr, and he moans at the words, eating up every ounce of praise you give to him. he breathing begins to pick up, and his eyebrows furrow.

"cumming—fuck, Im cumming!" and the second you hear the words, you move your hands away and force his hands down, now pinning them to the bed. his eyes snap open in confusion and just in time for him to witness the first glob of cum to drip out.

"wait!"

his orgasm isn't hitting him as it should be. he should be withering and crying right now, but your hands are gone, and he is cumming alone. except his body is reacting, he is shooting his load but there is no pleasure.

hes shaking his head, eyes frantic when he feels more begin to shoot out. the poor boy is confused, thinking you meant to try to edge him, but failed. "w-wait! Ive already started. touch me quickly!"

when you dont move, he begins to rip his hands away from under yours. "stay, Izuku."

he can't help but listen. he always does.

so he stares at you like a deer in headlights and then a second later, tears begin to drip down his cheek. this is what you meant by trying something new. he wasn't feeling good, his orgasm was completely ruined.

you had to be torturing him. sobs begin to rack through his body as he watches more and more cum shoot out of his untouched dick.

"no. no. noooo." he cries, still pent up but at a loss. his mind was deranged, unable to make out the situation.

you stare, intrigued at the reaction and ignoring the tears. "woah, Izuku, thats so weird! its like your body reacted, but you didn't!"

but he can't talk, hes sniffling and sobbing still when the last drop drips out and onto his stomach. "s-so mean. dont like it. I didn't like it Y/N!"

you chuckle at him, a fake pout on your face as if to mock him. "you're not supposed to like it, silly. just wanted to see how you reacted."

he shakes his head, eyes blurry from the tears. hes still frustrated, all of that build up for nothing. he wants to have an orgasm. he wants to feel good. "I wanna cum. please!"

you tilt your head to the side, and he knows for sure now that you are mocking him. "but Izuku im confused, you just came?"

he clenches at the sheets and sobs.

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lordprettyflackotara · 2 days

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hitchhiker || the proxies || prologue

tw: mentions of murder

“Son of a bitch!”

Masky’s voice was hoarse under his mask, the muddy slope under him making him slide forward. A rough hand grasped his forearm, keeping him from falling. He glanced over his shoulder, Hoodies gloved hand wrapped around his mustard jacket. He glared at Toby as he slid down the muddy slope with glee, splashing mud onto his already tattered jeans. Masky’s eyes narrowed as he heard the familiar quiet giggles coming from under Toby’s mask.

“W-where are we?” Toby questioned. The three looked around, Masky’s memory the most hazy out of the three. Him being elected the leader made the least sense sometimes, considering how scrambled his brain was. “The butt fuck of no where is my guess,” Masky huffed. Hoodie looked in front of them a two way road the only sign of civilization. He turned to Masky, who was about five seconds away from a rage fit. “We need to find our way back to the mansion,” Masky sighed. He began walking along the side of the road, assuming Hoodie and Toby would follow.

“You’re not seriously proposing we walk back to civilization are you?” Hoodie asked plainly. Masky gritted his teeth, annoyance washing over him. “You got a better idea?” He snapped. Toby skipped in front of Masky, turning around to face him as he walked backwards. “We c-c-can hit-tchhike!” He said cheerfully. Masky and Hoodie exchanged looks, watching as Toby raised his arm by the road. He raised a thumb, his signature bloody axe thrown over his opposite shoulder.

“Anyone who willful picks us up has got to be a lunatic,” Hoodie muttered. A set of headlights appeared over the clearing, the older men’s eyes narrowing at the sight of your car. “Looks like we got ourselves a lunatic,” Masky grumbled.

“L-l-let me do all of-f-f the talking gentleman,” The younger proxy said. Toby skipped to the front of the car, Masky and Hoodie watching dumbfounded as you rolled down your window. “Do you think it’s because she thinks the kids cute?” Masky asked his partner. Maybe he hadn’t been around women so long that they overlooked blood soaked axes if someone was attractive enough. Hoodie elbowed him. “It’s Halloween, that’s why she’s not bothered,” Hoodie replied quietly. How could Masky have forgotten? Thats the entire reason they were able to complete their mission to begin with.

“You know the rules we can’t have witnesses, no matter how cute,” Hoodie whispered. Masky eyed you carefully, noticing your doe eyes and plump lips. You seemed to be wearing some sort of fairy costume, one that made your breast sit upright. Masky sighed. “Of course. We get in the car and let her drive for a bit. Gives us a break. Once we come to a stopping point we’ll make it short and sweet,” Masky told Hoodie. He gestured his head to the revolver in his jacket pocket, the outline shoving just ever so slightly. Toby came back around the car, waving for them to join him. “Dibsss o-on shotgun!” Toby cheered.

As Masky approached the car he gently shoved Toby towards the backseat. “Yeah right kid, take a seat,” He huffed. Masky slid into the passengers seat of the car, your lips curling into a bright smile. “Hi i’m y/n,” You greeted. Masky gave you a brief nod, the three of them settling into the car. You noted their silence, deciding to change the conversation. “So, where you guys needing to go?” You asked. You started the car again, driving down the windy road. It became apparent that you were intoxicated, your perfume not able to conceal the smell of alcohol. Masky would’ve questioned your ability to drive, if he cared to survive a possible crash.

Death would be a pleasant surprise, if Slender didn’t have EJ bring him back in time. The healing process would be a bitch. “Just back to town. We got lost partying in the woods,”Hoodie answered quickly. Every so often it impressed Masky how quickly his partner could lie on the spot. You nodded. “Well i’m glad I found you guys, Halloween can get pretty crazy,” You slurred. Masky watched cautiously as your eyes flickered into the rearview mirror, looking at Hoodie and Toby. If it were up to him he would have you drive the entire way, so he could relax his never ending storm of a mind.

“What are you three dressed up as? I’m Tinkerbell as you might’ve guessed,” You giggled. Unfortunately your talking and questions were starting to get on Masky’s last nerve. “Y-you ev-ver see the purge? We’re dressed like them!” Toby replied, his neck twitching ever so slightly. Masky refrained from audibly sighing. Toby’s neck only ever twitched like that when he genuinely enjoyed talking to someone. He needed the kid to not get attached to you. Would only make the disposal process harder. And trust him, no one chops up a body like Toby does.

“Thats cool, definitely unique masks you guys have. Can I touch?” You asked innocently. You reached over to Masky, your fingertips threatening to graze his mask. The brunette could feel himself growing angry, his mask the one possession he could not allow to be touched. Hoodies loud coughing stopped your motion, your hand frozen as you glanced back in the rearview mirror. “Are you okay?” You asked cautiously. Masky sighed in relief as you retracted your hand. Hoodie continued fake coughing, giving you a thumbs up with one of his gloved hands.

The games and chit chat were growing old. Maybe if they were normal men, who actually were coming from a Halloween party, you’d be enjoyable. Maybe one of them would be lucky enough to take you home and fuck your brains out in that slutty Tinkerbell costume of yours. But they weren’t normal men and none of them were lucky. “He’s fine, just has bad a-a-asthma,” Toby explained, patting Hoodies shoulder. Masky could see Hoodie subtly cringe at the sensation of physical touch. He despised anyone touching him. “I have asthma too! Hang on I think I have an inhaler in the glovebox,” You replied.

You made a slow left on the windy road, the city lights slowly coming into view from a far. “Hey do you mind grabbing the inhaler from the glovebox?” You asked Masky. He did as instructed, clearing his throat as he handed the inhaler back to Hoodie. It was a subtle signal that they needed to get on with disposing of you. They were close enough to the city now. “Welllll you guys don’t seem like big talkers so i’ll play some music. Is that okay?” You asked. Toby nodded profusely. Music always made the kid overly excited. Masky began to reach in his coat pocket, his revolver always loaded and ready to go. He could feel his metal wrapped around the metal, itching with anticipation.

Your fingertips pressed the center console, turning on a tune Masky hadn’t heard in a long time. The Smiths filled his ears, the lead singers voice soothing. He glanced in the rearview mirror, Hoodie’s head beginning to twitch to the left. Shit, Brian’s gonna be fronting. Masky’s gaze landed on Toby, whose leg was jumping up and down front excitement. This band reminded Hoodie too much of his previous life, triggers like those allowing Brian to front earlier than expected. Masky sighed as the chorus came on, his jaw beginning to clench as an all too familiar pounding began in the front of his temple.

Brian could see Masky’s switch, his hand rubbing his temple as it always did when Tim was about to front. Tim blinked a few times, his breathing feeling suffocated under his mask. His hand slid out of his jacket, leaving his revolver inside. He quickly shoved his mask off, fear washing over him with the realization as to what he just did. Not only could they not have witnesses, but they most certainly could not let anyone who saw their faces walk away alive. Tim shot Brian a worried look, Brian quick to shove off his ski mask. As The Smiths played in the background Tim cleared his throat.

“I’m Tim by the way, and he’s Brian,” He said. He pointed at Toby with him thumb over the seat. “And I’m sure Toby has introduced himself,”

How could they get out of this without killing you?

You smiled drunkenly, Tim noticing your slight curve when driving. “Do you guys want to stop by waffle house?” You asked. Toby went to immediately agree, Brian’s hand flying over his mouth. “Maybe some other time, we have uh, work tomorrow,” Brian answered. Toby shoved his arm away, Brian struggling to keep his hand over the younger man’s mouth. “Bummer. I should probably go home too. Works such a bitch,” You sighed. Tim was trying to listen to you, he really was. But all he could think about was how he was going to have to order your execution. To arrange your meeting with death himself.

His brown eyes flickered to Brian’s in the rearview mirror, who were silently awaiting his instruction. Tim knew his partners expectation, but as he looked over at you, he just couldn’t do it. As you drove into the city you hummed along to the song, your fingers tapping along the steering wheel to the beat. Tim couldn’t put his finger on why exactly he was determined to let you go. Maybe it was his morality that surfaced when he immediately switched. Maybe it was how tired he truly was. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept. Whatever it was, something about you called to him. That calling involving you being alive.

The city lights were mixtures of purples and yellows, illuminating the inside of the car. “Can you pull over at the gas station up here? We live nearby,” Brian interjected, ruining the silence. You nodded, turning on your blinker and driving over to the right lane. Tim didn’t want to leave just yet, resentment of Brian’s words washing over him as you parked the car. “Well here we are,” You say. It wasn’t hard to see you were still drunk, your eyes glazed over. Tim couldn’t help but conclude your intoxication was the only reason you were so calm.

“Thanks for the ride, appreciate it,” Brian said, sliding out of the backseat. Tim listened to the car door slam, slowly taking off his seatbelt. Toby followed his lead. “B-b-bye beautiful!” He said, retreating from the car. Tim gave you a brief glance. He was doing the right thing by sparing your life, right? He slid out of the car, grabbing his mask and shoving it into his coat. You rolled down your passenger window, giving them a wave. “I’ll see you guys around, right?” You asked. Something about the ominous three men was intriguing, a mystery seemingly dying to be solved.

“Most definitely,” Tim replied. He leaned down, propping his arms on the passenger door as he peered down inside of your car. “Seriously, thanks for the ride. If we run into each other again we’ll make up for it,” Tim offered. You smiled, the faintest flush of pink highlighting your cheeks. “I’d like that a lot,” You replied. Tim leaned away, giving you a wave.

“Goodbye Y/n.”

“Goodbye Tim.”

With that you drove away, leaving Tim standing beside Brian and Toby. “You let her go?” Brian questioned. Tim dug into his pants, digging out a box of cigarettes. “Just like that?” Brian continued to questioned. Tim shrugged, bringing a cigarette to his lips. “No sense in killing her. She did us a favor,” He replied blandly. He began digging around for a lighter, Toby furiously jumping in between them. “What?!?! Y-you guys-s-s wanted to kill her?” Toby gasped. Brian rolled his eyes. “Dont be so naive, she’s a witness and we leave no witnesses behind,” He informed him. Brian shot Tim a dirty look and added, “Especially after they’ve seen our faces.”

Tim was aware he was breaking about twenty different protocols by letting you go. He was also more than aware Toby could’ve taken care of you entirely, he wouldn’t have needed to be involved. But he wanted you to live. It was an odd sensation he had never truly felt before, raw craving for someone that came across their path to walk away scratch free. “How long are we stationed here?” Brian asked. Tim finally found his lighter, igniting the end of his cigarette. Once he inhaled he replied, “About another three months.”

Brian crossed his arms, both him and Toby trailing behind Tim as he began to stroll down the sidewalk. He exhaled through his nose, ignoring Brian’s dirty looks. “How exactly do you propose we avoid her for three months?” He asked. Tim rolled his eyes. “For starters there’s the entire possibility she’ll be too drunk to remember us anyways,” He began. He watched as Toby galloped ahead, his axe slung over his shoulder like always. Tim brought out his pack of cigarettes again, gesturing for Brian to take one.

“Besides her meeting us was a mistake. A girl like that doesn’t belong in our world. She’ll never see us again. We’ll be a drunken memory,” Tim insisted. Brian took a cigarette, a gesture that meant he was going to try to trust Tim on this. Tim flickered the lighter, igniting the end of Brian’s cigarette. Once Brian inhaled, the two continued walking.

“You just let her go because she’s cute huh?”

“Dude shut up.”

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sinkovia · 5 months

Text

Polaroids

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Angst, mention of suicide, mention of death.

Underneath the winter sky, the world transformed into a pristine landscape of snow-covered fields and frost-kissed trees. You and Simon found yourselves amidst this winter wonderland, bundled up against the chill, ready to capture a moment frozen in time.

With the camera in your hand, you pulled Simon close, wrapping your arm around him as you both huddled together for a picture. There was anticipation in the air as you counted down. "Three!" you exclaimed, and just as the flash burst into life, Simon seized the opportunity. A mischievous grin played on his lips as he swiftly smashed a snowball onto your head right at the moment the picture was taken.

"Simon!" a mix of laughter and surprise in your voice. Your hair was dusted with snow, and you looked at him with mock indignation, but the gleam in your eyes hinted at joy. Simon, with a mischievous grin, reveled in the success of his snow assault.

The snowball ambush marked the beginning of a delightful chaos. Laughter echoed through the winter air as you both dodged, ducked, and retaliated with fluffy ammunition. The pristine landscape transformed into a battleground, each throw leaving its mark on the snowy canvas.

As you dodged and weaved, Simon's infectious laughter filled the air, his playful spirit contagious. Eventually, he closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You felt a mischievous glint in his eyes, and before you could react, he playfully brought you down into the soft snow. The cold powder cushioned the fall, and you found yourself rolling together, laughter bubbling up between you.

In the midst of the snowy tussle, the world around you blurred into a playful dance of white. The winter air was filled with the sounds of your laughter and the soft crunch of snow.

Eventually, the playful roll came to a gentle stop, leaving you on top of Simon. Amidst the falling glistening snowflakes, you looked into each other's eyes, the two of you catching your breath between fits of laughter.

As your laughter gradually faded into a contented quiet, you leaned down, your smile lingering, and pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss. The softness of the snow beneath you mirrored the tenderness of the stolen moment, and the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in your snowy sanctuary.

In the midst of this tender exchange, a soft click resonated. You turned your gaze to the right, where Simon held up the camera, capturing another candid moment, immortalizing the post-snowball fight kiss.

Taking the polaroid, you began to huff warm air onto it, warding off the haziness that the cold weather threatened to impose. Squinting at the image, a frown creased your features.

"What's wrong, love?"

"My face is all hazy, damn cold weather."

"Let me see." you turned the photo over so he could examine it with squinted eyes.

"Hmm, only a little, but why would I look at a picture when I'll always have you next to me?" Shaking your head, you kissed him again. "For memories, Si."

Those words echoed in Simon's mind as he held the Polaroid in his hand, sitting alone on a bench. The serene snowy landscape looked dull and gray without you. It had been a year since you passed, your life cut short by a drunk driver hitting the passenger side of the car. The memory of that tragic day haunted him, and the Polaroid served as a bittersweet reminder of the love and laughter that once filled his life.

In the quiet solitude, Simon vividly recalled the moment he turned to look at you in the passenger seat. Laughter filled the car as you both shared a moment over an awful joke. He just wanted another glimpse of you laughing, savoring the way you closed your eyes and held a hand to your stomach in pure joy. Your radiant smile, the tears in your eyes—he longed to see your radiance, a sight he had always cherished.

Then came the headlights on the other side of the passenger window. Panic set in, and Simon tried to react, to steer away, anything to shield you from the impending danger. But it was too late. The impact sent the car flipping several times before landing upright. Simon, initially dazed, was jolted into awareness by the sound of your labored attempts to breathe, a shard of glass embedded on the left side of your neck.

You turned to look at him, tears streaming down your face. Pure desperation filled his gaze as he swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching over to hold your neck in an attempt to stop the blood spurting from your neck.

"S…si…" Your eyes conveyed agony as your choked attempts at breathing became more shallow.

"Shh, sweetheart, it's okay baby. You're gonna be okay, I promise." He spoke with a tremor in his voice, desperately denying the gravity of the situation when your hand fell limp from your neck, landing in your lap. He reassured himself that you were still alive.

"Help is coming, baby, I promise. Just hang in there, okay? For me, can you do that for me, baby?" His words were a desperate plea, and when he heard you stop trying to breathe, he continued to deny the reality, reassuring himself that you were still alive.

"Just breathe slow, sweetheart. Please, just breathe, baby. Please just—" When your head slumped against his shoulder, he felt his hands begin to shake, a lump forming in his throat that made it hard for him to speak.

"Y/n, baby, I need you to lift… I need you to lift your head up, baby. I can't… I can't." He choked out a sob as his hands slowly moved away from your neck. He started heaving in breaths as he threw open the driver door and collapsed on the ground. His chest tightened, and his heart raced a million miles per hour. He couldn't bear to see your lifeless body. He clawed at his chest as a sharp pain tore through.

He was having a heart attack.

The paramedics arrived just in time to tend to Simon, nearly saving his life, a fact he later cursed them for. Why couldn't they just let him follow you into the afterlife?

Staring at the two Polaroids in his hand, he longed to go back to that day. Back to a time when everything that reminded him of you didn't cause insurmountable pain, a time when he still felt warmth—a time when you were still alive.

Despite the accident not being his fault, Simon carried the burden of self-blame, haunted by the regret of not noticing the oncoming car. The echoes of that fateful day lingered, casting a shadow over the stark winter scene surrounding him. Rising from the bench, he walked back to the house you once shared—a place you had made a home.

In the hallway, he stopped and looked at the framed photo of both of you, taken on your first date. You insisted on framing it, and he softly smiled, almost hearing your voice echo through the walls of the house.

He continued walking until he reached the edge of the bed, where he sat down and pulled out his phone, dialing 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

“I heard gunshots at my neighbor's house, the address is 1311 Amberville Rd,” he reported stoically before hanging up and reaching for the metal box under his side of the bed. Slowly opening it, he revealed a pistol.

He tried his best to carry on, to honor the memories you had together, to keep you alive through the love in his heart. However, the weight of living without you became unbearable. Tired of waking up each day without you by his side, exhausted from the relentless nightmares that plagued him.

He was simply tired of experiencing life without you.

He took the gun from the box, raising it to his temple. Without hesitating he pulled the trigger.

His eyes flew open, and he quickly sat up in bed, confusion clouding his gaze as he realized it looked just like your shared home. The surroundings appeared brighter, more vivid than before. Slowly getting up, he walked through the hallway, glancing at the framed picture on the wall before searching the entire house, only to find it empty. Opening the front door, he stepped outside, the soft crunch of snow under his shoes echoing with each step. The snow seemed to stretch out for miles, and trees covered in a thin layer of snow surrounded the yard.

Furrowing his brows at the unfamiliar scene, he noticed it was odd—they never had trees in their front yard. He remembered your dream of having big oak and willow trees. He smiled when he remembered the small pout you made when he told you that trees take years to grow full size.

Suddenly, a snowball crashed onto the side of his head. He heard your laughter and turned wide-eyed to see you running up, tackling him to the soft snowy ground. Rolling with you until he stopped, you ended up on top of him. He looked up at you in disbelief, tears welling in his eyes. Cupping your face with shaky hands, he questioned if it was too good to be true. Was he dreaming again? No, this felt too real. You felt too real.

“Y/n?” You smiled and gently pressed your lips to his.

“You came too early, Si.” He shook his head, his eyes bouncing all over your features. “I didn't come soon enough. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, love.” You smiled as you gazed down at him, your heart swelling. He combed his fingers through your hair.

“I missed you so much, sweetheart.” You nestled your head in the crook of his neck. He took in a deep breath, your scent filling him with warmth. “I missed you too, Si.”

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petrichorium · 1 year

Text

reo enters seishiro’s apartment without announcement—he has a key, you know, because he owns the damn place, though you’re solidly sure he’d have one anyway. seishiro doesn’t tend to tell him no.

you’re perched on the counter, availing yourself of both the abundant natural light in the kitchen and the view straight into the sitting room where sei is playing video games. it’s a nice, casual morning; not the first time you’ve stayed over since you became official, but close to it.

when reo comes waltzing in, barely taking the time to remove his shoes and put on his slippers, you freeze. he catches sight of you before he sees seishiro, pausing in his path and eyes slowly widening as he takes you in—dressed in one of sei’s massive hoodies and your own skimpy sleeper shorts, lounged out next to the sink, bare feet up on the fancy marble.

you blink at him, a deer in headlights. he blinks back. and then you scramble to get on solid ground.

seishiro greets his best friend from the couch; you don’t see him, but you imagine a lazy wave over his shoulder, throwing his head back though his attention remains entirely on his game.

reo doesn’t respond anyway. his attention is entirely on you, unmistakable as he barrels forward like a madman and corners you up against the counter, the look on his face unreadable. he scans your form again as though your clothes will shift to something less domestic if he looks at them hard enough, and scowls when it doesn’t work.

a hand darts out to grab your jaw and tilt your head, forcefully bearing your neck to him. it’s so sudden and unexpected that you freeze. he brings his other hand up to wrap around the back of your neck and presses his thumb firmly against a spot on your jugular, just beneath your jaw, and your throat bobs beneath the touch as you swallow thickly.

and your mind strays to last night, all heady passion and hazy warmth, a broad chest and calloused hands and those muscled thighs; sei taking initiative in a rare burst of motivation, throwing you down onto the couch and latching lips to the spot reo now strokes with his thumb.

he’d left a mark that you’d found this morning when you woke up, and you hadn’t bothered covering it—hadn’t planned on showing it off to anyone except the very man who’d put it there, but frankly you should have known better. mikage reo and nagi seishiro come as a matching set.

reo pushes in closer. your back digs into the counter, drawing a quiet gasp from you. he inhales, too, almost in sympathy; gaze falling to your lips as they part for air.

for half a moment you think he might kiss you.

“how long?” is what he asks instead, his face pinched, his eyes wild, still locked on your mouth.

you swallow thickly and feel your throat bob beneath his grip. “about a few weeks?”

“when?”

your gaze slides behind him, falling upon seishiro where he sits playing, except that he isn’t. his head is flopped over the back of the couch, soft white hair dangling in a curtain over his eyes, which are wide but empty as they regard you and the position you’re in. on the tv, an ugly red game over flashes desperately.

but when you lock eyes with him, he straightens. reo’s touch seems to burn against your skin as you whimper out, “sei,” and your boyfriend finally rises from his seat to approach. his clothes and hair disheveled, he shuffles along with slippered feet dragging against the floor, but as he draws closer there’s some energy you’ve never felt from him before. it makes you go limp in reo’s hold.

“three weeks,” sei says, that disinterested tone so comforting you think you might be insane. his hand grips your arm, his other reaching around to find the dip of your waist as he adds, “and two days.”

he tugs you free of reo easily, dragging you away smoothly in a motion that has his best friend’s hands disappearing from your skin immediately. as if it were an entirely normal morning, he drapes himself over you, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder (brushing lips sweetly against his mark, quick and fleeting) and securing his long arms around your waist.

“but i’ve wanted to for a while. i told you that, reo. you said to go after what i wanted.”

in your peripheral you can see how his gaze has latched onto reo’s form, still frozen in the same pose sei had freed you from. his hand has balled into a fist, and those wild eyes have now snapped glare at sei without turning his head. for a moment you think it might be some kind of standoff.

but a beat later reo blinks, and when he turns to the pair of you he’s a different person—all easy smiles and crinkled eyes, congratulating sei with a slap on the back and telling him to treat you well. he buys you two lunch from one of sei’s favorite spots, and then dinner from somewhere too fancy and expensive for you to say aloud (that doesn’t do take-out, certainly, except when a mikage calls), and you decide to put it out of your mind. a fluke, you tell yourself, and perhaps it’s delusional, but all you can do is put it out of your mind.

except you still catch him staring at the place sei left that mark, even long after it fades, and he never seems to mind when you notice.

sometimes you wonder when he’ll finally give in and freshen it up himself.

sequel

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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months

Note

I’m so happy you’re up for writing for WTTW! It’s one of my all time faves, can’t believe it’s been a year?!

Please could I request a cute little blurb set during the drive back maybe? Something cute and loved up and maybe a little smutty (for the sluts) (aka me)

Or anything else from this AU you feel like writing!

🥰

18+

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over.”

You were on a road outside of a town in Utah, Carmel and the ocean long left behind. It was almost dusk, that golden kind of light draping over the canyons, making the desert landscape look pink, like a dream. Everything was cotton candy, soft and sweet, including the boy driving.

“D’you need to pee or something?” Steve asked and he peered down at the map that was thrown across your legs. “There should be a gas station somewhere along here if—”

“Or something,” you replied, your answer vague enough to have Steve frowning but he was already pulling off of the road, pink and red dust kicking up from the wheels.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok— oh.” He realised what was happening when you arched up, hips lifting from the seat, just enough for you to hook your fingers into the sides of your underwear and peel them down from underneath your dress. “Oh my god, okay, yeah.”

His belt was unbuckled instantly, a comical quickness to his actions, the buckle hitting the door panel with a thud and he was sliding the divers seat back quicker than he could keep up with, his other hand hitting the horn.

It was all laughter into mouths, pretty, sweet, urgent kisses over the stick shift and Steve wasn’t shy about urging you into his lap. He kissed you until you were breathless, until the sky went from pink to lavender and the clouds in the distance rolled a little closer. It wasn’t a busy road per se, definitely sleepy at this hour but headlights flashed over your both as an old truck blurred past and it just made everything a little more exciting.

Steve was making the nicest noises, needy gasps and groans as you rocked over him, his jeans unbuckled just enough to free his cock and he threw his head back at the feel of how wet you were, letting you nip and lick at his throat, his jaw.

And when he got close and the stars started to blink from between the rock formations, Steve gripped your hip with one hand and urged you to ride him faster, the windows wet with condensation, the car rocking in the most obvious way. He used his free hand to slip down the straps of your dress from your shoulders, tugged the flowery material down over your tits until you were wearing it around the middle of your waist like a belt.

You were so on show it was obscene.

“I’m close,” you moaned and Steve just thrust up to keep you, cock sliding in and out with slick sounds.

You grabbed at his hair, tugging, gazing down at him with hazy eyes. He was tanned, sunkissed and freckles with his lips pink and parted for you, staring right back with pupils blown wide.

“Christ, you’re so pretty,” he murmured and his voice was gone, wrecked. “Gonna come for me? Just for me?”

You nodded, gasping, pulling at his hair until he groaned and took over, holding your hips still so he could fuck up into you until you came, clenching down on him.

And if that happened in every place you stopped on the way home, well. That wasn’t a vacation story you needed to share with friends.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve harrington fanfiction #Steve harrington blurb #Steve harrington oneshot #Steve harrington x reader smut #steve baby blurb #wttw

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hidtired · 2 months

Text

A Single Punch

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

The smallest action in a single moment can change everything.

Description: The line up ends with 3 supposed dead members of the group. Sometimes you have to know when to play dead. Even when all else goes to hell.

1.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, character death(s), very depressing, typical walking dead shenanigans)[happy ending… eventually]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Your POV

You would have gone after Daryl when he rushed out of Alexandria on a revenge mission. If not for the terrible rattle in your lungs. Every breath you took was heard. Sharp and painful. Denise the poor soul told you it sounded like walking pneumonia. Not necessarily deadly but hard to fix with limited resources.

So here you are sitting in your bathroom on the floor with the shower as hot as it could get to open your lungs. Trying desperately not to think about Daryl being reckless and doing only god knew what. A light knocking on the door shaking you from your thoughts.

“Come in.”

The door opened hastily releasing most of the steam out the door. Rick walking in past you to turn the shower off. Rick looked down at you offering a hand up. “We are heading off to hilltop. Something is wrong with Maggie and the baby. I would like for you to get checked out by the doctor there to.” Slowly getting up nodding your head. No use arguing with him when he was probably right.

While walking to the RV you looked to Rick calmly, “Thank you Rick, for being my family.” Rick looked to you with a raised brow and smirk. ‘Your loopy from sickness and meds he thought.’ He helped you in the RV to the back with a struggling Maggie. Maggie took notice on your tired state with pale skin as you did her. Rick putting a hand to Maggie’s shoulder,

“We are leaving in a minute, everything is going to be ok.”

The ride was going smoothly until the RV stopped. You exchanged a glance with Maggie, “Let’s hope we aren’t dead in the water like with Dales RV, really don��t feel like walking.” This made Maggie smile a little thinking about Dale all that time ago. Successfully distracting her for a moment.

This smooth ride turned to a nightmare with saviors popping up over and over again. Leading to you having to walk in the beginning of dusk. Maggie being carried. The whistling stirred your already hard breathing. The headlights causing your head to spin and struggle with balance. You felt like death. You felt warm and cold- a fever you thought. You were dazed but still had the right wits about you to know you were in danger. You felt a tapping on your leg, looking to see Carl on his knees. Catching the hint you followed suit. You couldn’t be bothered and sat on the back of your legs.

“Y/n…”

That what caught you out of your stupor. His voice. Daryl’s voice. You look up to see him. Pale and cover in his own blood. Tears now rimmed at your eyes. The RV door opened to reveal a man with a bat. “Pissing are pants yet?” You looked back to Daryl staring at him from across the line of your family. The slight sound of the whistle of your breathe could be heard. You were hazy struggling to comprehend the conversation going on. The man Negan you think, was walking and had stop in front of you yapping on and on about something like “was I dying of the plague” and “look like shit my dear.” He waved his hand in front of me.

“She doesn’t have a clue what’s going on does she.” Negan huffed.

Negan was walking between everyone reciting Eenie, Meenie Miny, Moe. ‘He was choosing which one of you to kill.’ You thought. He stopped in front of Abraham. Your breathing was turning faster from fear, there for making it harder for you to breath. “If any body moves-“ your ears are ringing. The first crunch of the bat to his head made you gasp then cough.

“Suck my nuts.”

Your ears ring in your brain watching blow after blow to Abraham. Negan flinging his blood in every direction. Your breathing hard, tears burning in your eyes. You reach a hand to curl to the back of your head. The other hand curling into a ball at your chest. Your clucking the hair so hard in your grip you might pull a chunk. You simply couldn’t inhale.

Negan turns to Rick then brought his eyes to you. “Well shit, looks like are little plague here bout dead.” Daryl watch’s as you try and take a breathe in, tears streaming down his face. You look worse than you did this morning. “I’m a merciful man!” Negan proclaimed, sauntering over to you. “Let me help sweetheart…” You just begin to look up at him catching a glimpse of the bat swing down to you. A crushing pain radiates through you head as you come crashing to the floor. But not just your head but hand as well.

“NOOO!” Daryl speeding toward Negan rocking him with a punch. Daryl getting easily pinned. He sobbed looking at your still body.

You were in pain and frozen like a deer in head lights. Your vision blur and the feeling of blood flowing from somewhere. The hit knocked some air into you and you tried you best to calm it. It was sallow but there. Your vision started to tunnel, blackness taking you into unconsciousness hearing sounds of the sobs of your family.

Daryl POV

In a single moment you were gone. They drag me back to my spot in line but I could only look to her still body. What was the last thing she had even said to me. This asshole killed you and he was blabbing on. He stepped out of line and was going to be joining you, he accepted that. The burning hate looking into Negans eyes. Negan only smiled, “That little plague was yours huh.” He chuckled to himself. “You should be thanking me, poor thing was dying, it was a mercy kill.” He back up a little.

“I don’t know what kind of lying asshole you’ve been dealing with but, I did say you only get one! No expectations.”

Daryl clenched his teeth, he expected his fate and accepted at least your body’s were to be buried together. “Welp, back to it!” But Negan pivoted and hit… Glenn. Sinking he felt like he was sinking. His mouth wide with shock. Glenn started stammering, Negan taunting him. “M-Maggie I’ll f-find you.” Negan winding up to hit him again. Daryl listened to Maggie’s pleas just like how his were he assumed. Hit after hit felt deeper like they should have been the one to be on him. Silents for a moment with Negan catching his breathe from exertion. This didn’t feel real. He had to be dreaming.

“Load him up.” He was being dragged away. He had little fight left in him but he fought against it. Hearing the people around him plea. He looked on to where you lay. His world, was gone and yet he still walked among it. His action then got someone’s else’s world killed. Guilt ate at him. Doors slammed in front of his face back to the darkness he once came, but now pieces missing inside him.

Rick POV

It was silent after the saviors left. Sun rising. Everyone trying to comprehend everything. Rick thought when he was being dragged to the RV with Negan that he was next. His anger at the time was now just fear. It was Maggie first to move toward her dead husband. They all scrambled to help her. She sobbed and still despite it all was still in need of a doctor.

Rick kneel next to her above Glenn. “Let us help please, he was are family to.” She agreed and stumbled into a hug with Carl. Rick looking down toward Glenn, his savior, this man was the reason he was alive and found his family. Rick gasped at the thought, ‘Thank you Rick, for being my family.’ He looked back to you, your body less maimed than the rest. You were here because Rick made you go. Hilltop, Maggie. He turned back to Maggie, “We still need to get you to Hilltop.” he looked to her with a little resolve.

Maggie clearly distraught, “I’ll get there myself, you were out here for me. I can’t let anything else happen. I just can’t.” Before he could even begin to disagree, Sasha spoke up. “I’ll take her. You need to get back to Alexandria.” Maggie agreed adding, “Y-you need to figure out to take them out.” Rick looked at her slowly shaking his head. “They have Daryl.” Rick said, and at mention of Daryl’s name the turned to your body.

Rick bit his lips trying to not break. Everyone started to move to put the bodys in the back of the truck that Sasha and Maggie were taking to Hilltop. Your body being the last, Aaron picking you up in one swoop as everyone help to lay you down into the bed of the truck between Glenn and Abraham. More tears were shed.

Before splitting into different cars, Rick goes to Maggie hugging her before she gets in the passenger seat. The rest follow to say there goodbyes for now and hope for the baby to be well.

Looking into the side mirror he look back to seeing puddles of blood and a walker kneeling down to it. Looking forward to not break from the sight and think about those he lost he make eye contact with Michonne. Then he started to drive.

??? POV

Sasha was driving to Hilltop periodically looking towards Maggie. Her mission. Maggie had tears from pain a lost going down her face. The silence was cut with a slap to the back window of the truck. A bloody hand smearing down the glass. The girls turn to each other. You must have turned, head not completely crushed like the others. Maggie sniffled, “Pull over, I don’t want her eating them.”

They both circled the back to put you down. Hearing the grumbling noise coming from you. The tailgate fell with a loud bang. Sasha climbing up knife in hand. When they heard it.

“I can’t, please it hurts.” Slurred and rough. You were alive.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open! Also little disclaimer I’m really dyslexic so any help with grammar or spelling would be great!

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #norman reedus #rick grimes #angst #happy ending

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charlosvibesonly · 5 months

Text

Racing Hearts - Part 2

A Max Verstappen Imagine

Part 1

pairing : max x fem! reader/driver

the aftermath of their unexpected kisses is driving the racing world crazy. and y/n can't help but fall for him.

please lmk if you want this to be a series!

The night air was filled with anticipation as you and Max stayed there, lingering in the aftermath of the unexpected kiss. As days passed, you found yourself inexplicably attracted to Max in a way that surpassed the excitement of the racetrack. The articles and headlines about your growing connection were impossible to ignore, and soon, even you were caught up in the romance that they portrayed.

Snippets from articles read,

"From fierce rivals to unexpected lovers, Y/N and Max's story is straight out of a Hollywood script. Once a battleground, the racetrack is now the backdrop for their burgeoning romance."

"Fans can't get enough of the unexpected chemistry between Y/N and Max. Is it love or a strategic move to keep the competition on track?"

"In a surprising turn of events, the racetrack has become the stage for a love story that transcends the finish line. Can these racing rivals make it work off the track?"

The tabloids and fans alike speculated on the authenticity of your relationship, dissecting every shared glance and lingering touch. Amid it all, you found yourself genuinely liking Max, a realization that both thrilled and terrified you. The thrill of racing was now accompanied by the happiness of stolen glances and the gentle brush of hands during press events.

It was the Silverstone weekend. Y/N went to a club at her friends’ persuasion. The dim, pulsating lights cast a hazy glow over the dance floor, where bodies swayed.

However, the vibrant energy took a swift downturn when you stumbled upon Max. His presence stood out amidst the chaotic dance floor, his sleek black attire making him an unmistakable figure in the sea of people. Your breath hitched as you caught sight of him, his arms wrapped around another girl, their laughter blending with the bass-heavy music.

At that moment, the world seemed to slow down, the rhythmic beats of the music fading into the background. Hurt and blindsided, you felt a sudden weight in your chest, and a knot tightened in the pit of your stomach.

His eyes met yours, you could see the realization dawning on his face. Without a word, you turned away, determined to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

Max hurried after you, pulling you back.

"Where are you going?" he asked a mix of concern in his eyes.

"Somewhere I don't bother you and your date," you replied, your anger palpable.

“Must have been so fun right? Playing with me.” your voice breaking.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you left without giving him a chance to explain.

Arriving at the hotel, you retreated to the solitude of your room, hoping the night would make you hurt less.

It was race day. And you wanted revenge. Max and you were in a very close fight for the championship, this win could give you an advantage. And you wanted it.

Rain was forecasted. The downpour was obviously in Max’s favor. You cursed your luck. But decided to give him an equally tough fight. You weren’t the kind to back down.

As the cars navigated the treacherous turns, the rain intensified, challenging even the most seasoned drivers. The spray of water, illuminated by the headlights, created a dazzling display that added a layer of drama to the already high-stakes competition. The race unfolded like a dance between machines and elements, a battle not only against each other but also against the relentless forces of nature.

Amidst the chaos, Max executed a surprising move, a strategic decision that played a pivotal role in helping you secure the lead.

“Y/N wins the British Grand Prix!”

The noise was deafening.

But you weren’t celebrating. A thousand questions ran through your head. Your eyes searched for Max. Making your way towards to garage, you stood in front of him.

So many things you wanted to know, but all you could say was, “Why?”

"You stopped talking to me, Y/N," Max began, his voice cutting through the chaotic symphony of the rain and engines. His gaze bore into yours, seeking understanding. "You just went away. I wasn't playing around, and I certainly wasn't on a date. She was just a fan, a little too eager. You have to believe me; I'd never mess with you like that. I think I like you too much for it."

As he spoke, Max's emotions played out on his expressive face. There was a hint of regret for the misunderstanding, a touch of vulnerability in the admission of liking you, and a determination to set things right.

In the midst of it all, the call to the podium interrupted, leaving Max's explanation hanging in the air.

On the podium, with rain still pouring down, the fans eagerly anticipated a kiss. The scent of wet asphalt mixed with the sweet champagne hung in the air as you stood next to Max. Your racing suits, now drenched, clung to your bodies, creating a scene that echoed the intensity of the race you both had just conquered.

In that charged moment, emotions swirled within you like a storm. The recent hurt and confusion from the club scene were still fresh, an ache in your chest that begged for resolution.

Seizing the moment, you took Max's face in your hands. Your eyes revealed a mix of emotions – anger and hurt were there, yes, but underneath it all, a burning desire to set things right, to redefine the narrative that had spiraled out of control. The kiss that followed caught Max off guard.

Surprised by your sudden boldness, Max responded with eagerness. He pulled you closer, the racing suits sticking to your bodies like a second skin. Max lifted you into the air, clearly showing how eager he was. As you hung in his arms, Fernando, sharing the podium, grabbed a bottle of champagne and poured it over both of you. The kiss continued, undeterred by the rain, and crowd.

As you broke away, you realized that you were no longer rivals; instead, you were something undefined, something that went beyond the racetrack.

The post-race interview was a chorus of questions about your evolving relationship.

"Y/N, Max, can you confirm if this is a real romance or just a publicity stunt?" one reporter asked.

You exchanged a glance with Max, and laughing you replied, "It's as real as the rain pouring down on us."

Another reporter jumped in, "How did this happen? Weren't you arch-rivals just a while ago?"

Max, a playful smirk on his face, responded, "Well, sometimes, the best races happen when you least expect them."

The other drivers were caught equally off-guard. Charles said in his interview, ”I thought I was the only one with a surprising performance today, but clearly, I underestimated those two.” And he chuckled while watching their kiss being replayed over and over again.

During the interview, your phone buzzed with a text from Max, "Meet me at 9?"

Your smile was his answer.

Clearly distracted, a reporter tried to grab Max’s attention, "So, are we going to see more public displays of affection in the future?"

Looking at you Max answered, "Well, you'll have to wait and see. We're just getting started."

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