Tumgik
#i was gonna give him a point for the sad moment and the long hair but then i looked at him again kgjdkdkd
simpforrooster · 8 months
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nothing but a gentleman.
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Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader
summary: jake is obsessed with you. you eat it up. you’re obsessed with his obsession. but also with him.
t/w: soft!jake, some cursing
"Get out of here, Bagman. You're giving me a headache."
The blonde aviator grabs at his chest. "God, I love it when you're mean to me." Those green eyes sparkle with mischief under the lights of the Hard Deck.
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin has been pining after you for months.
& you have been loving every second of it. Miramar's resident playboy has only had eyes for you. You haven't seen him spare a glance at any of the other ladies in the bar.
Believe me, they've been looking at him.
"Y/n, how long are you going to keep my boy at arm's length?" Coyote asks from the other side of the pool table. Jake saddles up next to him and feeds you the saddest pout he can muster.
"Yeah, y/n, how long?" Jake asks.
Your intention wasn't to drag this hard-to-get play out for so long. Truthfully, it's becoming hard not to give in to those strong arms. To not lean in when he invades your personal space, feeding you a smart ass comment.
Your shoulder comes up to your ear and falls back down. "Hard to say, Bagman."
"Let's play for it," he tells you. Jake saunters over to you, and leans against the pool table. Crossing his arms over his fit chest, he situates his mouth just outside your ear. "If I win, you've gotta give me a kiss, darlin'."
The way his hot breath falls across your ear causes goosebumps to appear down your arms. Jake notices, and a blonde brow raises.
"What are you? Twelve?" you antagonize.
"Oh, honey. I'm willing to try anything at this point."
"Rack 'em. Honey." You lightly shove him back, your hands reacting to the small second they were on his chest.
"If I win, you give it up," you send the man a sad look.
"Give what up?" he asks.
"All this pining'." Your hand gestures wildly around in the air.
For a moment, despair crosses over that handsome face. He recovers quickly. "Oh, I'm not worried."
Jake lets you break. Two stripes fall into the pocket. Jake comes up behind you before your next shot. His hand slides across your waist and he pulls you into his side.
Right as you pull back, Jake leans down. "Don't scratch."
The cueball follows your striped ball into the pocket.
"Damn," he murmurs. It takes a full 45 seconds to get your heart rate under control.
The jig is up once Jake get in control of the pool table. Not only is he the dagger squad's best dart player, he's got the best pool table on lock, too. There is no way he's going to take it easy on you.
Naturally, he doesn't.
"One more and Hangman gets a kiss," he smirks. He doesn't take his eyes off your as he pulls back and send the cue ball sailing.
The eight ball falls into it's intended pocket effortlessly. Followed right by the cue ball.
Shock falls across all your faces. Jake has never lost a game of pool. Ever.
Jake sets the cue stick down, and rounds the table. Standing toe-to-toe with you, he feeds you a delicious smirk.
"Darlin', I ain't gonna make you kiss me if you don't want to. Furthermore, I only want your kiss if its of your own volition." He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear.
Your eyes lock with his and the world stops. What a fucking gentleman.
Fisting the front of his shirt, you yank him down to your mouth. Jake relaxes into the kiss immediately and allows his hands to slide around your waist.
Jake takes control, changing the direction and deepening the kiss. Your hands move from his shirt to the nap of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair. His hair that’s gotten just a bit long.
Jake pulls back just a hair, his lips a breath away from yours. “Damn,” he mumbles, again.
“My own volition, huh?”
“I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he winks. “A gentleman who is dying to kiss you again.”
You guide his lips back to yours.
“Kiss me, Hangman.”
master list.
a/n: been a little while since i wrote for ole jakey. i hope y'all like it!
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anyasathenaeum · 3 months
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Lover (Nanami x Reader smut)
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A/N:This is my first ever writing for Nanami/JJK as a whole. Please be nice about it. I felt like the Nanami lovers deserved some goodness. Do I know what I'm doing? No. Did I at least enjoy it? Yeah. Anyways, please have this... whatever this piece is. Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, female terms are used, mentions of penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS).
Nanami is a quiet lover.
His expressions of love are never glorified or big, never flashy or particularly grandiose. He shows how much he loves you through the little, quiet things.
The attention to detail with each and every lunch that's sent with you to your place of work. A hand on your lower back, guiding you through crowded spaces. A moment of remembrance, bringing you a treat or a gift you'd briefly mentioned in passing. A gentle kiss to your knuckles when it's nobody but the two of you, with no prying eyes around to witness the small gesture of love intended just for you. The way his hazel eyes lock onto you and soften oh-so-slightly the second you enter his field of vision. The small ghost of a smile that plays on his lips when he sees you.
Nanami refuses to let the world intrude on the refuge that your love offers. His love is meant for you and you alone. Nobody else would or should be privy to the love he shares with and feels for you. And so, his declarations of love are quiet; little secrets that only the two of you know about and would ever be able to recognize. It takes time, but eventually, you realize that all these little actions scream those three little words that Nanami refuses to say except for in the privacy and safety of your shared home.
"I love you."
Nanami is a gentle lover.
He's seen so much sadness, horror and suffering in this world, and despite his blunt and cold exterior, Nanami does every possible thing to protect you from all the wickedness in the world. It may have claimed others, it may have torn some of his friends from him, but it will not take you from him so long as he draws breath on this earth and he would be damned if he would ever do something that hurt you.
His touch is so, so gentle for somebody so big and so strong, his fingers tracing the softest of patterns over your delicate skin with the lightest touch, taking in every bit of you. His grip, while firm, never tightens to the point of risking hurting you, such as when his large hands hold your hips down and your thighs apart as he uses his tongue to draw the most beautiful sounds from your lips.
"K-Kento, I-... I'm gonna cum.."
You mewl and whine as Nanami continues to use his tongue to drive you closer and closer to your orgasm, his nose rubbing oh-so-gently against your clit with every movement and a hint of a smirk on his lips as his tongue delves deep into your pussy, relishing your taste and the feeling of you squirming from the pleasure he's giving you.
"That's it, my love. Cum for me."
His low voice sends shivers down your back every time, causing your grip on his blonde hair to tighten as he pulls yet another orgasm from you, the overwhelming waves of pleasure coursing through you. His hazel eyes never leave you as he continues to lick your pussy and suck gently on your clit, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible until your body finally relaxes. Once you've recovered, Nanami's kissing you with as much love and care as he can muster, the taste of your slick on his tongue making you wet all over again and the seemingly endless ache for him in your core returns immediately, making you squeeze your thighs together. Of course, nothing escapes Nanami's notice, a rumble of a chuckle escaping him at the sight of your neediness.
"That's my girl."
Nanami is a tender lover.
With every thrust to the hilt inside you, through the haze of his pleasure, Nanami still ensures to treasure you for every moment he spends with you, inside you. You're carefully encased in his arms, tucked almost protectively beneath him as he presses his lips against yours, his cock filling you and stretching you deliciously with each and every stroke.
Soft grunts and growls slip from his lips as he fucks you with surprising tenderness, his gaze often drifting to where the two of you are joined so he can watch himself sink his cock into you over and over again, claiming your body in ways nobody else ever would. His fingers often intertwine with yours against the mattress or pull your hips ever closer to his own, allowing him to thrust into you even deeper.
The sudden, loud moan that escapes you as he angles your hips lets Nanami know that his cock has found the perfect spongy spot inside you, making you see stars as his thrusts increase in speed and intensity.
"K-Kento! Lo-love you! Love you, Kento! Kento, please!"
You can't control the words slipping from your lips as Nanami continues to sink his cock deep into you, never once failing to hit that spot deep inside you. The pleasure you feel is too overwhelming, your words escaping you without a thought and without hesitation as yet another orgasm washes over you, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him. The feeling is so intense that he needs to stop his thrusts in order not to fill you up then and there.
You whine when Nanami suddenly pulls out, a frown on your lips as you gaze up at him hazily.
"You didn't cum, Kento. Why'd you stop?"
The smile he gives you in return makes your heart flip in your chest - his expression is one of pure peace and adoration, the tenderness and affection he feels for you evident in his eyes as he takes everything about you in as you lay beneath him. He doesn't answer you, instead just leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. However, unlike before, this kiss isn't hungry or desperate, but rather gentle and soft and oh-so loving, and you faintly realize that Nanami is cherishing you, your body, your very existence in this moment.
He holds you close to him for a little while, giving you some time to recover before slipping his cock back inside you and beginning his thrusts once more, pulling more beautiful sounds from your lips and more soft moans escaping him as he works you towards yet another orgasm. This time, however, he doesn't slow as you cum once again, your pleasure driving him over the edge with you. A low groan escapes Nanami as he buries himself inside you to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he spills himself deep inside you, his seed coating your walls.
'Where it's meant to be,' Nanami thinks to himself, never saying the words aloud.
As he collapses next to you in the bed, Nanami doesn't hesitate to pull you into his arms, both of you panting from your exertions. He holds you close once again, saying nothing for a while and instead just watching you as you curl up against him, his heart aching for love of you as you press your cheek against his bare chest and wrap your arms around his much larger form. This time, before you can so much as begin to form any words, Nanami leans his head down, his lips by your ear as he whispers those three little words to you softly.
"I love you, (Y/N). Never doubt that."
Nanami is a lover. And his love belongs solely to you.
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chelseeebe · 9 months
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come pick me up.
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part one to do you think i have forgotten (about you)
summary: it had always been you and eddie. but one night and a whole lotta unexplored feelings leave you both reeling and you’re not sure if it ever really was you and eddie.
a/n: ermm this is so so long i’m so sorry already LOL i’ve had it in the drafts for so long but i reread it n rlly liked it so i wanna post hehe! side note: there are ZERO pictures of eddie not in that fuckin hellfire shirt D: i can’t have a grown man wearing that now …
loosely based off of the cook/freddie/effy storyline from skins uk if you’ve seen it you’ll know.,,, they’re like in their early twenties n it’s set sometime in the 90s ish tho it’s not rlly mentioned
no use of y/n! smut, 18+. this is more so stevexreader than eddie but they do have a relationship of sorts n it’s a lil’ complicated.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❤︎ ❤︎ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
the sound of a high pitched alarm screaming jolts you awake. still partially in last nights clothes, the grubby feel of makeup on your face. leg slung over eddie’s torso.
you groan, shoving his arm as he’s still very much asleep, ‘shut up,’ grimacing as the noise continues.
he mumbles something, wildly slapping his arm about to turn off the damn thing.
you run a hand over your face, remnants of your black eyeliner on your hand. that horrid taste in your mouth only found after a night of drinking. which seemed to be just about every night at the moment.
‘why’d you set an alarm, you freak?’ rolling over onto your stomach, perched on your elbows, watching as his eyes slowly open, obviously feeling as shit as you did.
‘i have- had class, you freak,’ he grumbles, looking up at you from the pillow, curly hair fanned out around him.
you scoff, ‘like you were gonna go,’ attempting to rub the rest of your mascara off, sure you looked similar to a wild raccoon.
he hums in response, shuffling under the covers to tangle his leg with your yours, ‘you gonna sort this out for me?’ referring to the obvious morning glory tenting the blanket.
‘you gonna ask nicely?’ you respond, snarling at his crudeness.
whatever he was about to say was interrupted with a knock at the door, ‘we’re coming in, you have five seconds to not be naked,’ robin’s voice echoes.
you look up as robin walks into the room, hand over her eyes until steve gives her a small nudge, indicating the coast is clear, ‘oh good-,’ she sniffs, ‘it smells like weed and sex in here, you’re fucking disgusting.’
‘thanks for reminding me,’ eddie leans over, retrieving the half-smoked spliff from last night and lighting the end.
steve’s eyes are firmly on yours, kinda sad and defeated. he had that same look on his face whenever you and eddie were together, which was often.
you’d sort of always had this.. thing with steve. encapsulated by his presence. there was always something unspoken between you and you were never sure if it was because he hated you or not. small glances and touches that seemed to linger just a bit too long.
you’d sorta taken his best friend from him at one point, coming between their friendship suddenly and with no warning.
steve was intrigued by you too. this mystical, unobtainable persona you presented to the world. something he couldn’t crack. just couldn’t quite understand it.
‘we’re getting breakfast, i was going to ask if you wanted to join but i assume that won’t be happening,’ she raises her eyebrows, noticing your severely hungover state.
they liked to party too, just clearly not as much as you and eddie. both of you had no understanding of when to call it a night, egging each other on til the point of no return.
‘i think we’ll give that a miss,’ eddie’s answers for the both of you. steve’s eyes immediately look down, suddenly interesting in the burn marks in eddie’s carpet.
you’d actually met steve first, on the first day of classes in freshmen year. you went over to a sheepish steve, who looked slightly scared, and obviously lost. offering him the directions to his room.
he’d smiled back, introducing himself to you on the way. appreciative of your kindness. you probably wouldn’t have helped if he didn’t look like that, but still, it was nice.
that’s when eddie had bounded over, all hair and denim. loudly taking over your conversation, introducing himself with a smirk, hand already creeping onto your lower back. that’s when steve had nodded towards him and informed you of their already established friendship.
you weren’t really sure when it became you and eddie. well, it wasn’t. not officially. god, you didn’t want official. he was fun to fuck and even better to party with. maybe the fact he dealt had been a factor in solidifying your strange relationship. maybe not.
robin rolls her eyes, ‘right, well you boring fucks can rot in bed all day, suit yourselves,’ ushering steve out of the door, slamming it behind her.
you blink, hating this awful, guilty feeling steve always left in your stomach. you’d tear a guy like him to shreds, maybe it was for the best.
whatever self-wallowing, steve-centric thoughts you had are interrupted when eddie’s arm snakes around your back, pulling you onto him.
‘i still need a little assistance here,’ he grins from beneath you, running his hand down your back, firmly grasping your exposed ass as you clamber on top properly.
you try your damn hardest to push the reflecting image of steve from your mind. though it doesn’t quite work until eddie’s calloused palm softly taps against your cheek, ‘anyone in there?’
you frown, returning the playful slap as you grind mindlessly against him, his fingers digging into the pliant skin of your ass.
‘you can do that again.’
-
eddie hadn’t shut up about his birthday for weeks. you’d all planned to go to the same bar you went to most weekends, except this time everyone had to go and he got to be centre of attention.
he’d been pissing you off all night. obviously far too drunk, jaw clenching from the copious amounts of shit he’d sniffed. hanging from your shoulder, speaking over you and splashing beer down your top as he slurred through his words.
‘i think we’re gonna head home,’ steve speaks up when you exit the bar, eddie already looking for the next place.
‘whaat? you’re fucking boring,’ he pokes a finger into steve’s chest, far too intoxicated, ‘you’re staying out, right?’ he looks over to jonathan, argyle and nancy who also shared an apartment not far from yours.
‘nah man.. it’s late, it’s been fun though,’ jonathan shrugs as nancy finds a taxi to take them home.
‘fuuuck you guys are really ditching me on my birthday? at least you won’t let me down,’ his arm hooks around your shoulder, yanking you into him.
you pull back, which wasn’t particularly hard in his state, ‘get off of me.. can i get a ride with you?’ looking over at steve, his hands cautiously poking out of his pockets.
he nods sheepishly as eddie practically erupts, ‘it’s my fucking birthday, and you fucking losers are going home?’ he’s screeching, throwing his arms around, making a royal scene in the middle of the street.
robin finds a cab willing to take the group of you home, calling you over to the yellow vehicle, ‘eddie let’s just go home, it’s late,’ attempting to coax him into going with you. you’d deal with his shit in the privacy of his bedroom.
he laughs, turning away from you and walking up the dimly lit street, ‘you.. you can get fucked,’ he slurs, disappearing into a nearby bar.
steve stands at the cab door, watching as you frown at eddie’s back. internally deciding whether to give in and follow him or to leave like you’d originally planned.
you let out an exasperated sigh, ‘he can go fuck himself,’ you spit as you slide into the back of the cab. steve follows, shutting the door behind him, flashing you a small cautious look as the cab pulls off.
-
you collapse onto the sofa the second you set foot in the apartment. completely at your wits end with eddie and his the way he spoke to you.
‘i’m going to bed,’ robin announces, slinking into her own room, leaving steve to awkwardly linger in the living room.
you didn’t want to worry about eddie. he was a grown man who could definitely handle his own. besides, why should you when he’d explicitly told you to fuck off?
steve clears his throat before taking the empty seat beside you, ‘he didn’t mean it.. it’s just drunk talking,’ he nods, attempting to reassure you.
it wasn’t as if you were really upset about it all. more so annoyed that you’d let him treat you that way. continually. over and over again.
whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you had started to wear thin. there were only so many times you could put up with his shit before it got tired.
eddie could be a horrible drunk. it wasn’t often but when that version of him came out you’d prefer to be far far from it. he was cruel with his words, venomous as they rolled off his tongue. then you’d get into a screaming match and then either end up hate-fucking or you’d just both never bring it up again.
‘no, he did,’ you sigh, kicking the shoes from your feet with a thud, ‘i don’t care.. really.’
‘right,’ he nods, not totally believing you, ‘y’wanna smoke?’
a small smile creeps onto your face as he reaches for the small black box eddie kept on the table, pulling out a small baggie of weed, something eddie definitely wouldn’t miss. he didn’t even need your reply, beginning to roll up.
-
perhaps you’d smoked a little too much, sputtering on the final toke of your second or third spliff before handing it back to steve. he sits on the other side, an awful lot closer than he’d been originally.
it was quiet, but comfortable. not awkward at all.
‘y’know..’ he speaks up, looking over at you, ‘actually.. nah,’ changing his mind almost immediately.
‘no.. what? what were you gonna say?’ you furrow your brows, vision hazy, the room full of grey smoke.
he sort of chuckles to himself, stubbing the end of the joint out in the glass ashtray before looking at you again, ‘it’s stupid,’ he warns.
‘even better.. tell me,’ you nod, encouraging him to go on.
he pauses for a moment, a tiny smile on his pink lips, ‘i always thought.. well, that you and me were gonna end up together, i thought you liked me for the longest time,’ shaking his head as he looks down.
your heart thuds. a mixture of your high and the unidentifiable emotion coursing through your veins. there was no questions to being with eddie. it was simple, sex and parties. no complicated feelings involved.
but within a second, steve had completely changed everything. a feeling you’d suppressed since your situationship with eddie had started. completely convinced that the odd relationship you had with steve was just because you were banging his best friend.
‘i didn’t.. i didn’t know you felt like that..’ you manage to get out quietly, watching as he slowly stands up, he doesn’t look at you once. too ashamed, embarrassed that he’d just admitted everything to you so easily.
‘well, now you know,’ he says quietly before disappearing into his room.
you linger on the couch for a moment. unsure of what to think of anything he’d just said. whether you should knock on his door and tell him you’d felt the same or just go off to your own room and wait for eddie to crawl in.
it wasn’t as if you felt nothing at all for eddie. you did, of course. but you didn’t love him. not the way you maybe should’ve. not the way you felt about steve, his gentle nature and soft caramel tinted eyes.
you stand from the couch, feet taking control as you walk to his door. a small slither of orange light peaking from underneath. raising your fist to knock but stopping, arguing with yourself. this couldn’t be a good idea.
before you can even convince yourself to knock, the door opens. steve stands on the other side, his own chest heaving as your eyes meet.
‘i-,’ he croaks, but you cut him off with your lips, pulling back just as quickly as you’d moved forwards.
you stare at him for a few moments, swallowing all the courage you’d just worked up.
‘..now you know,’ giving him a meek smile before walking back to your room. you lean back against the door, heart beating a million miles an hour.
-
a repetitive banging sound forces you awake in the morning. hissing as the sounds of an extremely dramatic moan get louder. high-pitched and obviously put on.
it takes a moment for you to realise just where the noise is coming from. eddie’s room backs onto yours. the headboard colliding with the wall at an alarming pace.
you stumble out of bed, throwing on an old dirty sweater and groggily making your way into the living room.
steve sits slumped over the table, looking particularly miserable this morning. despite what had happened last night. you wondered if he’d told robin who sat scowling at the door. steam practically coming out of her ears.
her eyes widen as you appear in the doorway, rubbing the residual sleep from your eyes, eyes flitting between your frame and the wooden door.
‘well shit, i was about to cuss you out,’ she remarks, astonished that you were stood in front of her.
steve’s whole face brightens when he realises you’re stood in front of him and not in the room making those god-awful, oscar worthy noises.
‘if that’s not you.. who the fuck is in there?’ robin gasps, now utterly bemused by the entire situation.
you shrug, choosing the seat opposite steve, making brief eye contact and flashing him a small smile. would he bring up last night? or was it never to be spoken about again?
relief is written all over his face. obviously under the impression that you’d made up with eddie at some point in the night. not once checking that you were in your room.
‘jesus christ i’m gonna kill him,’ robin fumes, sipping on a mug of coffee. her eyes are narrowed, attempting to set the room ablaze with her mind.
‘it won’t last long,’ you add, reaching over to steal a slice of steve’s buttered toast. he lets you, obviously. letting out a soft snort at your joke.
‘nothing is that good,’ robin shakes her head.
the noises quieten, a shrill giggle coming from the hallway as a scantily clad blonde appears in the doorway, closely followed by eddie, sporting a pair of boxers that hid absolutely nothing.
‘that way,’ he groans, guiding the smiling woman away towards the bathroom. his eyes momentarily meeting yours, total venom behind his glare.
robin jumps up, splashing coffee over the floor, ‘don’t you dare think about fucking in my bathroom,’ she warns, chasing after the odd couple.
you can hear an altercation as presumably eddie slams the bathroom door on robin, her fists pounding against the wood, hollering about her new bath mat.
steve glances at you, searching your face for any type of reaction. he doesn't find anything, instead you smile softly as robin re-enters the room, cursing at the bastard freak. she grabs her bag, slinging it onto her shoulder before stomping over to the door.
'i'm going out, let me know when he's done with his weird exhibitionist routine,' slamming the door as she exits, the poorly built walls shaking as she does.
there's a faint sound of running water, obviously coming from the bathroom, closely followed by a series of questionable grunts and groans. you choose to try and block it out, though engaging in conversation with steve at this very moment seemed almost too awkward.
'did you tell robin?' you pipe up, playing with your fingernails as you just about meet his gaze.
'uh.. yeah,' he grimaces slightly, 'i-i just thought.. well i thought that was you this morning, i was.. confused,' apologetic for his blunder.
you nod, 'i don't care.. i just wanna prepare for the inevitable grilling i'm gonna get,' chuckling in an attempt to ease the tension. it works as his lips curl into a small, playing with the discarded crusts on his plate.
the god-awful noises from the bathroom worsen and your eyes are pulled from steve, looking towards the cause. perhaps this was eddie's way of making you jealous. revenge for choosing to go home and not put up with his drunken assholery.
-
you’re sat tracing patterns into the velvet fabric of the sofa, practically shaking as you wait for steve to get back from campus.
he was your friend for fuck sake. why was this so nerve wracking? ask him to hang out, if he says no then so be it. you’ll deal with the awkwardness of your shared kiss alongside eddie’s misguided anger.
he’s later than you’d expected. becoming far too engrossed in the random soap opera on the tv when he does eventually get back. almost forgetting about what you’d got yourself so worked up over.
‘hey,’ waving his fingers as he comes in.
christ, he almost seemed more nervous than you were.
‘hey,’ not wanting to jump down his throat the second he walked in the door, turning the tv off and running your palms down the sofa.
‘spoken to eddie?’ he asks curiously, slinging his bag from his shoulder and slumping down next to you on the couch.
‘nah.. he went out this morning and hasn’t been back,’ you shrug, wishing that he wouldn’t have just bought that prick up.
he nods, looking down at his jeans, finding a loose thread to play with.
‘would yo-,’
‘d’ya wanna-,’
you both start at the same time, stopping to let him continue except he’d done the same thing. sitting in the silence for a brief moment.
you chuckle nervously, ‘sorry, what were you saying?’
‘i was just gonna ask if you wanted to.. maybe do something tonight? if- if you’re not busy,’ shrugging it off, trying his hardest to play it cool.
‘oh,’ laughing softly, the pair of you were like nervy teenagers, comical, ‘i was gonna ask you the same thing.. yeah i’d love to.’
steve grins, transported back to freshman year of high school, trying to find the gall to ask tammy thompson to the fucking movies. it all seemed so childish, innocent, the way you melted around each other.
‘okay.. i’ll get changed, give me five,’ he nods, leaping from the sofa and speeding off to his room.
you bite down onto your bottom lip, trying to contain your smile. kicking yourself for the adolescent excitement it gave you.
-
the bar was packed for a wednesday night, steve shouldering his way through the crowd with you following closely behind. not brave enough to cling onto his hand, wrapping your fingers around his forearm instead.
‘jesus christ,’ he exclaims when he finds a spot just about big enough for you both to stand. you were close. closer than you’d ever been. at least in public.
you hold onto the glass bottle he’d passed you from the bar, ‘d’ya wanna go somewhere else?’
‘what?’ he shouts, the music too loud to hear you properly.
you lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear, the feeling makes your heart pound, ‘you wanna go somewhere else?’
placing his hand on your arm so he could shout back, the mixture of his cologne and beer filling your nose. it was intoxicating, making your head giddy.
‘i’m good if you are,’ wisps of his hair sweeping against your cheek.
you nod, beaming up at him as you take a swig of the harsh beer. the crowd seemingly disappearing from around you as his eyes focus on you, his own smile overcoming his face.
-
okay, perhaps you’d had a little too much to drink. but a little dutch confidence never hurt anyone.
you’re definitely not complaining when you grab his hand on the way out of the bar, quickly intertwining your fingers as he weaves his way to the door. still as packed as when you’d got there.
you giggle as he trips over the step coming into the bar, sending you flying into his back as he regains his balance.
his hand is quick to steady you, resting on your waist. the street light illuminating the gleam of his eyes, slightly glossy from the multiple beers he’d sunk inside.
a drunk student roars past you, snapping you out of the moment, steve’s hand still lingering on your waist. something that would’ve never happened if he were sober.
‘shall we go home?’ you ask, not breaking from his gaze.
he nods, moving his hand to offer it out for you to grab. leading you over to an empty cab, leaning through the front window to talk to the driver.
the drive home is heavy with tension. sitting in silence as steve makes polite conversation with the driver, fingers still wrapped around yours. heart thumping as you near your street.
the apartment dark and silent when you get in, the only light coming from the old fairy lights robin had hung around the room. there’s no hesitation, your hands grabbing his cheeks, smashing your lips to his the second the front door closes.
it takes a moment for him to realise what was happening, hands quickly finding solace on the small of your back when it clicks properly. it’s greedy and desperate, tongue sliding into his mouth, wanting to touch every inch of him.
hands sliding down his chest, grabbing at the fabric, his leg slotting between yours, guiding you backwards. straight into the coffee table with a bang.
you spring apart, eyeing eddie’s room cautiously, saying a silent prayer and hoping he didn’t come out.
steve’s eager to resume, eyes hungry as they flit between eddie’s door and your face.
you pull back completely, taking your lip between your teeth and hooking your finger around his pinky, leading the way to his bedroom. it was the furthest away from eddie’s and made the most sense.
he shuts the door gently, flicking the small bedside lamp on, illuminating the obvious tent in his jeans. your mouth falling open at the sight of it, rubbing your thighs together to try and satiate the growing throbbing.
you’re quick to resume the kiss, moving on him swiftly, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. he collapses backwards onto the bed, your body falling on top of his chest, hands caressing his cheeks.
the next moment you find yourself underneath steve, pressed into the mattress as he holds himself above you. eager hands finding the short hem of your skirt and sliding underneath on the soft skin of your thighs. you had never seen him move with such confidence before, normally a little shy in the way he carried himself.
his finger hooks into the waistband of your lacy panties, tugging them down to your thighs. his growing erection digging into your core with every movement. moaning into his mouth when his finger begins circling your sensitive clit. this had definitely killed any and all assumptions that he was a virgin.
it’s as if he had been waiting for this very moment for his entire life, sliding his fingers between your folds and into your already soaking hole, your mouth falling from his as your head rolls back onto the pillow.
‘oh my god,’ a breathy moan escaping from your lips as his fingers pump in and out, his other hand causing a dip in the pillow next to your head.
his fingers slip out of you and begin to unbuckle his belt, barely getting them down and around his legs before his cock springs up. bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, mouth hung open as your peer down between your bodies.
your shirt is pulled off over your head so quickly you weren’t sure if you had blinked, landing on the floor alongside his with a soft thunk.
you draw your eyes back up to meet his once more, ‘you’re sure?’ he reaffirms, pupils dilated, wetting his lips with his pink tongue.
‘so sure,’ nodding encouragingly underneath him, readjusting your legs to loosely wrap around his torso. you’d never been more sure of anything in your life.
he returns the nod, positioning himself at your sopping entrance and without breaking eye contact he slides in with a sharp intake of breath. you can’t contain the whimper that collects in your throat, the stretch of his cock taking you by surprise. the sting felt good, like he was always supposed to be there between your legs.
he’s still, waiting for your encouragement to move. you give it in the form of a squeeze on the back of his neck, clinging on to the skin as his hips move slowly. low, hungry grunts roll from his lips, the bed frame creaking in time with his thrusts.
‘fuck,’ you breathe out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth acutely aware that eddie was only a few doors away and could definitely hear the happenings in the room. even if you could manage to stifle yourself, the undeniable sounds of skin against skin would expose you.
‘is that- is that good?’ steve mumbles, moving slow but hitting deep, nudging against your soft spot, already hurtling you towards your orgasm.
‘jesus christ.. yes, yes,’ beginning to buck your hips back against him, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach. finger nails leaving crescent moon shapes in his skin as tears prick in your eyes.
steve groans as his heavy balls slap against the back of your thighs, pushing himself fully inside, ‘i’m not.. hmph.. not gonna last long,’ arm beginning to buckle with the weight of him.
you clench around him as your high topples over at his words, burying your face into the pillow next to you. unable to withhold the high pitched wail from leaving your mouth, barely managing to muffle the sound.
his rhythm falters, hips slamming into yours for the last few desperate pumps before he pulls himself out. thick ropes of cum spurting out and onto his hand. and the bed. and your thigh. crying out as his chest heaves above you.
‘holy shit,’ his arm gives way and he ends up next to you on the mattress, panting for air as he reaches for a dirty shirt on the floor, using the first thing he could find to clean off his hand.
you turn your head to face him, a lazy smile on your face as he offers the shirt out to you, mouthing a small sorry.
he throws it to the other side of the room, running a hand over his damp face, ‘i uh.. i last way longer normally,’ bashful and doubting his performance. it was only because it was you.
‘steve,’ you smile, grabbing his blanket to pull over your body, ‘don’t do that,’ seeing the shy boy from once before, you much preferred the steve from earlier.. confident and sure of himself.
‘yeah.. sorry,’ his lips curling into a soft smile, turning his body towards yours, arm snaking out to pull you closer, clammy palm resting on the small of your back.
you giggle quietly in response, settling in to your new position, sharing the blanket with him.
your eyes don’t leave each other’s as he begins to babble about something from the bar, clinging onto your skin as if you were somehow going to slip away.
-
you hadn’t even realised that you’d fallen asleep in steve’s room.
so when eddie comes in unannounced in the early morning, you thank your lucky stars that you’re facing the wall with steve’s body hiding yours. shoving your face into the pillow to hide yourself, hair sprawled around you, helping your case.
‘yo.. bro,’ he whispers, stepping into the room and over a pile of clothes, ‘good night?’ he cocks his eyebrow at steve as he turns around, glaring at the interruption.
‘uh.. yeah yeah,’ steve panics, realising what eddie had walked into and the chaos that’d ensue if he figured it out, his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
‘sounded like it,’ eddie chuckles, shaking his boot to rid it of the discarded shirt on the floor, ‘look, have you got ten bucks? i can give it back tomorrow,’ he bargains, smiling at steve.
‘yeah.. yeah, my wallet’s on the desk,’ steve nods towards the desk, adjusting himself to make sure he was covering you when eddie stomps over to the desk.
ten dollars was a worthy sacrifice to not have to deal with eddie’s temper tantrum in the morning. it wasn’t like he’d never find out. just not now.
‘thanks bro.. i’ll get it back to you tomorrow, hey,’ eddie rubs his stubbly face, ‘d’you know if dickhead’s in? i knocked but, uh.. no answer,’ quite obviously referring to you.
you have to resist the urge to sit up and cuss him out.
‘uhh.. no, no idea sorry,’ steve shakes his head apologetically, lying through his teeth.
‘alright well, have fun,’ wiggling his eyebrows as he exits, closing the door softly.
you exhale when the door clicks shut, though you stay in the same position, not entirely convinced he’s not stood outside the door listening.
‘don’t speak,’ you mouth to steve, who looks wearily at you until the front door closes and you fully turn to face him.
‘jesus christ,’ you breathe, ‘he doesn’t knock?’
‘usually he does.. i bet he wanted to see who was in here,’ his arm twitches, unsure of whether to keep clinging on to your waist or to remove it.
‘i mean,’ you shrug, ‘he’ll found out eventually, right?’ it was inevitable, especially as you were living together.
‘i s’pose.. you don’t care?’ taken aback by your nonchalance towards the situation.
‘not really.. i just don’t think he needs to know, not yet,’ you croak, he had literally just banged another chick practically right in front of you. any guilt you may have felt about the situation had disappeared.
‘yeah,’ he gives you a tired smile, nuzzling his head into the pillow, all soft and sweet.
‘i dunno about you but i’m going back to sleep, until at least lunch,’ your hand running along the curve of his bicep, mere inches away from each other.
he hums in response, his lingering arm pulling your waist closer, eyes drooping as sleep takes over.
-
you’re awoken again by the slam of the front door, robin leaving for work. letting steve know that everyone in the apartment could hear your late night activities.
steve grumbles, complaining about her heavy-handedness. you leer over at the alarm clock, wanting to get out of steve’s room before eddie gets back from work, making sure there were no possible chances of awkward questions this afternoon.
‘shit,’ you hiss, climbing over his still half-asleep body and grabbing whatever t-shirt you could find, pulling it on over your head, ‘eddie’s back in like five.. i’m gonna get out of here now, saves the aggro..,’ slipping into your discarded underwear.
‘right.. good idea,’ he mumbles, one arm folded underneath his pillow as he comes to fully.
you sprint out of there and into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal when eddie strolls through the door, whistling some tune to himself. he glances at you before taking a seat at the cluttered dining table.
you don’t say a word, discarding your plan to sit at the table and instead tucking in to your cereal on the counter, pretending to read some flyer.
‘where were you last night?’ he asks, leaning back on the chair to get a full view of you, ‘i knocked on your door but..’ narrowing his eyes.
‘i was probably fuckin’ asleep,’ shoving another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, making brief eye contact with the man.
he squints, trying to figure out why that shirt was so fucking familiar. was it his? were you wearing his shirt in some weird goading way?
steve emerges from his room, shirtless and running a hand from his messy hair. eddie’s eyes flit between the shirt and steve. cogs slowly turning in his brain.
no. no the shirt wasn’t his.
it was the fucking shirt he’d kicked off of his foot when he’d stormed into steve’s room this morning. same boring design printed on the front.
on you.
from steve’s floor.
the night after steve had, very loudly, had a female friend over.
you’re oblivious, focussing on your bowl of soggy cornflakes as steve clatters around behind you. making his own bowl. neither of you looking at each other, making everything ten times more obvious.
‘you’re fuckin’ joking,’ he loudly proclaims, standing from the table, nearly sending the chair flying backwards.
your head shoots up, confused by what he had seemingly angered himself over now, ‘what?’ eyebrows knitted together as he storms over, mouth hung open in disbelief.
‘you fucked him?’ jabbing his finger at steve, ‘my best friend?’ arms flying around in anger.
you look to steve for some help, eddie positively fuming, his jaw clenched at your lack of an answer. in fact, your reaction, or lack thereof, had only solidified everything.
‘no,’ you eventually croak, ‘i- we-, that wasn’t me,’ stuttering for some excuse, though you know he didn’t buy a word of it.
eddie’s face twists up in a mix of anger and hurt, eyes glossing over as his lips tremble, ‘eddie-,’ steve begins, cut off as eddie storms out of the tiny kitchen, grabbing his wallet from the table and pausing when he opens the front door.
‘you deserve each other,’ he snarls before disappearing, shaking the walls with his violent slam of the door.
you stare at steve in silent disbelief, dropping the spoon into your discarded bowl. you’d predicted his reaction to go something along the lines of that, just not expecting it so soon. hoping to have prepared a solid speech in the meantime.
‘shit.’
‘it’s okay.. h-he was gonna find out eventually.. he’ll calm down,’ steve tries to soothe you, well aware that eddie held onto his anger, let it simmered until it all bubbled over and some poor soul got the brunt of months of rage.
you want to feel bad, feel guilty but when steve’s hand sits on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, it vanishes. his chestnut eyes providing a sense of comfort you’d never felt before.
-
you were used to eddie being out. missing in action for days on end. but by the fourth day of him not coming back to the apartment, the pit in your stomach starts to worsen.
the guilt had caught up to you, as if you were the one who had shoved him out of the door. you had, in a metaphorical sense.
the first few days were, nice. though you felt worse for even feeling that. but, you’d been hanging out with steve more. it was different to before, getting to know his personal quirks, the things that made him tick. something you would’ve brushed off before.
you were friends, sure. you hadn’t really had the opportunity to get to know him like this before. it would’ve felt like some sort of betrayal to eddie. even though in some ways the way it had come about now was much worse.
on the fifth day, you’re sat on the couch with steve. picking the hangnail from your finger, wincing as it started to bleed.
‘d’you think he might’ve gone home?’ you ask, looking up at steve who was spaced out next to you.
they were from the same small town, had started out sharing classes in high school and had since been friends. admittedly growing apart when you’d come into the picture. you’d heard stories from the others about how close they used to be, never apart, according to jonathan.
‘i dunno.. he hates hawkins,’ steve shrugs, seeing the worry spread across your face, ‘but i could call his uncle? see if he’s there?’
you nod, thumb in your mouth trying to pull off more of the sore skin. he gets up to grab his phone, already dialling the number when he comes back into the room.
‘hey! wayne.. it’s steve- yeah yeah, i’m good man.. i was just wondering if eddie was there? oh no, uh- well.. we haven’t heard from him in a few days, y’know what he’s like… sure, thanks man,’ clicking the button and ending the call.
he looks over at you, a pitying look on his face as he shakes his head no.
‘i’m sure he’s alright.. he’s dramatic, you know that,’ he collapses onto the couch, this time closer than before, nudging your elbow with a weak smile.
you were well versed with eddie’s dramatic personality. having dealt with his temper tantrums and storm outs for years now. though, it had never seemed this bad before.
realistically, you knew he was probably crashing on a friend’s sofa. overstaying his welcome and partying too much. he was likely coming down from some insane party as you sat thinking about him.
‘i just.. feel bad,’ you whisper, leaning into steve’s side. his arm reaches around to your shoulder, rubbing softly against your arm.
‘i know..i do too,’ he admits, you and eddie hadn’t been a romantic thing. not even really a thing, if you were being honest. it was sex and partying, getting completely trashed and using each other in an attempt to fill the void inside of you both.
but steve and eddie had been friends for years now. they’d argued over the stupidest shit but never something like a girl. steve had had to genuinely weigh up whether his friendship with eddie was worth losing.
if eddie couldn’t get over it, would steve be able to repress his feelings for you? or would he be fine with losing eddie if it meant that you were together?
when robin gets back from work, she narrows her eyes at the two of you curled up against each other, ‘is this gonna be a regular thing?’
‘would you have a problem with it if it was?’ you ask, watching as she dumps her back and slumps on the empty seat.
‘oh no, i’m just thinking about how much peace and quiet i’ll get if you and eddie aren’t screaming at each other every day,’ kicking her doc martens from her feet and leaning into the cushions.
‘if he comes back,’ you remind her.
she hadn’t really seemed too fazed when he’d stormed out. thankful for no more early morning wake up calls from his wooden bed frame. but you can tell that even she was beginning to feel at least a tiny bit worried.
‘he still not called?’
you shake your head, ‘no one’s seen him, he’s not home.. i guess we’ve just gotta wait til he’s calmed down,’ shrugging, more so trying to convince yourself rather than her.
no matter what, eddie had a special place in your heart. even if it wasn’t love in the romantic sense, there was too much there to disregard that. he was your best friend at one point, how could you?
it’s another five days of fretting and concern before you hear a word from him. your phone rings in the middle of the night and you sit up, feeling along the nightstand for the buzzing plastic. an unrecognised number.
‘hello?’ you speak into the receiver.
steve stirs, waking up at the sound of your voice. admittedly, you’d been sleeping in his bed. sharing kisses and late-night chats about just about everything. it all felt very quick, but just right. like now that’d you’d both realised that you could have this, that anything other than this felt wrong.
‘hi,’ eddie’s voice rings out, recognisable even through the phone.
‘eddie? you’re okay? where are you?’ you babble, steve sits up at the mention of his name.
‘i’m uh- with my dad, i just, listen.. i need you to bring me some shit.. we’re going away and i’ve got nothing with me,’ his voice crackles and you can hear him shift around in the payphone box.
‘what? you’re going where? where are you?’ baffled, unsure if you were still asleep and not understanding him.
‘away, i’m staying in porter.. look, can you do it?’
‘eddie that’s-,’ but you stop yourself, ‘yeah, sure.. when?’
‘tomorrow, i just need some clothes, my watch and my savings.. they’re under my mattress.. tiny box, you’ll see it,’ he rushes, running out of minutes.
‘o-okay, where shall i meet you? i don’t know it well,’ you garble, nodding at steve when he mouths a confused porters?
‘little bar called sam’s.. i’ll be in there, i’ve gotta go, this thing’s running out,’ he sighs, muttering a small, ‘thank you,’ before the line goes dead.
‘he’s at the fucking beach.. wants me to drop some shit for him.. he said he’s with his dad? i-i thought his dad left..?’
‘he did,’ steve looks puzzled, taking the phone from your clutch and looking at the withheld number, trying to figure out if he could call it back, ‘he left years ago..’
-
eddie’s smile falters when he notices that you’d bought steve and robin along. steve dropping your hand the second his eyes meet eddie’s.
‘what the fuck are you doing here?’ the chair scraping the wooden floor as he stands abruptly.
the man you can only assume is his dad looks over, gripping onto the beer bottle, eyes flitting between his son and your trio.
‘eddie.. i asked them to, we wanted to know if you were okay,’ your voice shakes, frowning when he scowls at you. you’ve pissed him off, again.
‘i called you because i trusted you, not him,’ he spits, walking over to where you were stood by the door, ‘where’s my shit?’
‘it’s in the car,’ quickly coming up with a lie, trying to keep him talking for as long as possible, ‘i need to talk to you.. before you.. leave,’ you pout, trying to get him away from his dad.
‘about?’ he hits back harshly, still upset that you’d even dared to bring steve along.
‘about.. everything,’ you exhale shakily, ‘give me five minutes, please.’
he looks back at his dad who checks his watch before shrugging. he couldn’t give a less of a shit as long he got this promised money.
‘fine,’ he says through gritted teeth, storming past a gormless steve and robin and exiting the restaurant.
you glance at steve before following him out, not sure how much longer you could convince him you’d bought everything he’d asked for.
he’s already lighting up a cigarette when you reach the street, perched against the windowsill in days-old clothes. he looked a mess. even worse than his usual gritty self. eye-bags and a sunken face to match.
you breathe out, how do you even start a conversation like this? sorry i fucked your best friend but i actually really like him was probably not the best way to go about it.
‘i’m sorry,’ seemed like the best place to start, ‘it wasn’t fair to you.. what i- we did.. i can’t tell you how shit it makes me feel.. to know that i hurt you.’
he blows the smoke out of his mouth, expressionless, ‘okay.’
is that it? after his great big performance that was all he could say?
‘what?’
‘i said, okay.. what d’you expect me to do? start crying and begging you to love me?’ scoffing as he takes a long draw of the cigarette. his eyes cold, merciless as he glares at you.
‘you ran away.. made everyone worried sick about you.. and all you can say is okay?’
he shrugs, ‘i’m over it.. you’re welcome to each other,’ stubbing the cigarette out on the brick wall, stepping closer to you.
your mouth opens and shuts, flabbergasted by his stinking attitude, ‘shout at me, scream.. fuck- hit me if you want to.. stop pretending like you don’t care.. because i know you eddie munson and i know you do.’
his eyes narrow, intimidating as he towers above, ‘i don’t give a shit, you’re only upset because you want me to.. that’s too bad,’ his adam’s apple bobs, a tell-tale sign that he was lying.
your eyes search his for anything. a glimmer of weakness.
but his eyes are stern, emotionless as his brows thread together.
the door to the bar creaks open and his dad stomps out, muttering to himself, ‘c’mon son, let’s get the fuck out of here,’ replacing eddie’s spot on the windowless ledge and lighting his own cigarette.
he doesn’t break eye contact, ‘i’m gonna take a leak and then i want my shit,’ jaw tense as he barges through the door.
you squeeze your eyes shut, biting onto your bottom lip before cricking your neck. that hadn’t gone exactly to plan. now what the fuck were you gonna do when he realised you hadn’t brought the one thing he’d asked for.
‘i know what women like you do,’ his dad speaks up, taking a long drag on the cigarette, ‘you don’t get to fuck up his life and then happily move on.’
eyes springing open when you realise he’s talking to you, ‘what the fuck did you just say?’
he laughs, a deep belly-laugh, ‘you heard.’
you’d love to smash the smug look from his dirty face. knock his head into the brick wall and drag eddie kicking and screaming back to steve’s cat whether he liked it or not.
‘women like me? the only person who cares enough to drive all the way out to this shithole to save your son? is that what you meant?’ stepping up towards him, as if you were even capable of doing anything.
‘you came to rub it in.. flaunting in with pretty boy there,’ his lips snarl, ‘pathetic really, shouldn’t have bothered.’
eddie comes back out, robin and steve trailing behind, trying to converse with him but being completely blanked, ‘where’s my shit then?’
‘uh.. steve’s car,’ beckoning to where you’d parked somewhere in the distance.
steve flashes you a worried look knowing damn well there was nothing eddie could want in his car. luckily eddie doesn’t pick up on it and instead starts walking in the direction you’d motioned, expecting you all to follow.
‘why’re you in such a hurry?’ you call out from behind, trying desperately to bide time. he was certain to flip his shit the second you reached the car and he figured you’d lied to him.
‘because i want to get the fuck out of here,’ he snaps back, charging on ahead.
you walk in silence to steve’s car, nervously glancing over at steve as eddie and his disgusting pig of a father walk on ahead. steve reaches over and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze though it doesn’t really do much.
eddie’s spots the car first, striding over and peering into the windows, ‘where’s my shit then?’ turning to glare at you with a disgusted look on his face.
your mouth opens and closes, no viable excuse coming to mind, ‘eddie.. i didn’t bring anything-,’ swallowing as you gain some slight confidence, ‘i’m not letting you go with him.’
his dad completely flips, turning to his son, ‘you’re fucking useless, you know that? how the fuck d’you manage to mess this one up?’ practically foaming at the mouth.
‘dad i told her! this isn’t my fault.. we can still go.. i’ll find the cash somewhere,’ his eyes pleading with the estranged man, he had shrunk back into a scared little boy right before your eyes.
his father shoves him away, snarling at his son, ‘you think i actually want to go anywhere with you? my colossal fuck up of a son? you’re dreaming,’ positively fuming.
‘but.. dad,’ he’s almost begging now, regressing back to the night he watched his father walk out on his mom, feeling the heartache all over again.
steve steps up, getting closer to the pair, ‘you should go,’ placing his hand on the man’s arm.
he jerks his arm from steve’s grip, scoffing at you all, ‘don’t bother trying to find me again.. i don’t wanna know,’ poking his sausage finger into eddie’s chest before pulling himself away and trundling off back to the bar you’d met in.
your eyes immediately turn to eddie who was watching the man leave for the second time, tears pricking in his eyes. your chest pangs with hurt, you’d never meant for it to happen like this.
eddie speeds off in the opposite direction and you have to pull on steve’s arm to stop him from going after the boy, ‘he’ll come.. just.. give him a few minutes,’ nodding reassuringly.
steve sighs before turning to face you, ‘okay, you should go anyway.’
‘yeah.’
deciding that it had probably been enough time, you follow eddie’s path and eventually find him perched on a crumbling stoke wall, aggressively wiping his cheeks when he spots you walking over.
you sit in the empty spot next to him, staring down at the grey concrete. not wanting to break the silence and potentially piss him off more.
‘fuck,’ eddie finally breathes, sniffing and wiping his nose on his filthy sleeve. he clearly hadn’t showered in days and you wonder what on earth they could’ve possibly been doing.
‘i’m sorry,’ you croak. you weren’t just sorry for not allowing him to run off with that wretched man but for the fact that you and steve had quite obviously betrayed him.
you hear him swallow and then a rustling from his pocket. looking up to find him with a cigarette hanging onto his lip. he offers the box out to you, as he usually would.
delicately taking one from the pack and placing it in your mouth, waiting patiently for the lighter.
you sit smoking your cigarettes in the calming silence for a few minutes. gazing out at the horizon, the sky awash with all sorts of moody greys. fitting.
‘are you coming home?’ you ask quietly, standing from the wall with your hands shoved in your pockets.
eddie exhales, his eyes closing briefly before he stands, ‘yeah.. yeah let’s go,’ admitting defeat as he lets go of his dad forever, ready to put an end to his reckless escapade.
robin and steve are leaning against his car when you walk back. there had been a silent agreement to not mention it. just get in the car and go.
you sat in the back with eddie, watching as he stares out of the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. you move over into the middle seat, resting your head against his shoulder.
things would be alright.
-
things had been actually sorta alright. eddie had seemingly come to terms with you and steve becoming a thing. at least, if he hadn’t, he’d been keeping it to himself.
you tried to keep things respectable of course, jumping apart when he’d enter the room or going off to your own room and creeping into steve’s when eddie had gone to bed. but he wasn’t stupid. and you knew he wasn’t stupid. it just seemed better than rubbing it in his face.
things were completely different with steve and you’d felt a sense of pressure that hadn’t been present with eddie. steve was soft and kind but you couldn’t be so laidback about everything with him.
when you’d disappear at parties to split a bag with someone, he’d want to know. or when you were upset and stressed out, he’d want to know why, how he could help.
which was fair enough, obviously. it was just different. before, eddie would offer some generic advice and a spliff and be done with it. now, you were expected to actually address your issues head-on, not just bury them with sex and drink.
finals week had been harsh on all of you. the apartment in disarray as you were all working overtime to save your grade and not get kicked out of college.
you’d, perhaps a bit unfairly, taken your stress out on steve. arguing with him about menial shit that you didn’t really care about, just finding any excuse to shout and push him away.
he’d sit there and take it, offering sensible solutions and trying to resolve whatever bullshit you’d made up that day. a stark difference to eddie who would’ve screamed straight back at you.
come friday night, you’d all finished exams, sitting around the table when eddie swanned in, flapping some flyer for a party, going on about how you should all go.
‘we’re finished, free,’ he argued, pleading his case to the three of you.
robin flat-out refused, said she needed to sleep for a solid week and then she’d be ready to party. steve umm’d and ahh’d, settling on staying in but he was down to go out tomorrow.
‘i’ll go,’ you speak up, eyeing eddie from across the table, you hadn’t hung out alone yet. this would be a new feat.
‘alright,’ he shrugs, looking at steve for his permission or straight up denial of you two going alone.
steve just nods, ‘alright, call me if you need anything,’ glancing at you with an assured smile.
he wasn’t worried. not really. you’d shown him plenty of times that you loved him even despite your incessant attempts to push him away. even in the bad arguments, he’d kept his cool and waited for you to come to him, keeping everything on your terms.
you’re nervous though. you and eddie partying together had never been a good idea, egging each other on, getting utterly trashed just because he’d dare you to.
not tonight. you swore to yourself before leaving. pressing a tender kiss on steve’s lips, leaving traces of your sticky lipgloss behind.
-
eddie’s pov
it’s a little after midnight when steve gets a phone call from eddie, asking him to come and pick you up. still waking up as he walks across campus, passing countless drunk students as he finds the thumping party.
you’re incoherent on the couch, steve’s eyebrows raising expectedly as he walks into the room. eddie stood to the side watching as your arms instinctively wrap around steve’s neck. even in your drunken stupor you went straight to steve.
it fucking stings.
he looks on worriedly as steve hoists you from the couch, ‘hey man.. uh, she said some pretty weird things tonight, i dunno.. i don’t think she’s okay,’ recalling your earlier slurred words.
you hadn’t meant to, but you’d spilled everything to eddie. a tequila fuelled rant about how steve was so perfect and how bad you felt that you just weren’t. how you didn’t know how to stop pushing him away, even when you didn’t want to.
steve nods, it wasn’t like he didn’t already know you were on this self-destructive warpath. he just wasn’t sure how to tell you that you didn’t need to do this without sounding like a dick.
your arms lazily flop around his neck, laying your head against his chest as he carried you bridal style through the party and right across campus back to your apartment. eddie trailing behind in silence.
‘thanks.. for calling me,’ steve smiles as he nudges his bedroom door open just as eddie was about to disappear into his own room.
‘course,’ he nods, melancholy as he watches your fingers curl around steve’s jacket, pulling him down onto the bed with you, babbling a chorus of steve’s and love you’s as his door closes.
cursing himself for never being that soft with you. never providing that level of safety.
he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. at some point he hears you tumble out of steve’s room, rushing to the bathroom and subsequently throwing up into the toilet. debating whether to hop out of his own bed and help.
but then the padding of steve’s feet make their way through the hallway, his soft voice helping you brush your teeth and get cleaned up. eddie’s assistance was unnecessary. damn, he wouldn’t have a clue what to even do.
on the occasions that you’d thrown up in the morning, eddie would’ve led in bed and laughed. called you a pussy and waited for you to crawl back to bed in a mood. he wasn’t gentle like steve. that shit came as a second nature to him but to eddie? not a touch of it.
he even hears the soft kiss he gives you on the way back to his room, your appreciative little murmur and the click of his door shutting again. 
and he wants to kick himself. scream and cry and throw a tantrum because in an ideal world, that would’ve been him.
but he can’t blame you, no matter how much he tried. it’s his fault he’s such a colossal fuck up. not yours. not steve’s. his.
he eventually gives up and moves to the couch, not getting much luck at sleeping in his bed. the suns rising when he hears snippets of your hushed conversation.
it didn’t sound angry. or even upset. just barely audible speaking’s about your feelings.
‘i know.. i don’t mean to,’ he can hear, a twinge of sadness in your tone.
‘you don’t need to.. not with me,’ steve mumbles and the blankets rustle, snapping him out of his trance.
he can hear small i love you’s and the sound of lips smacking. but then your muffled breathy moans start and the bile rises in his throat. undeniably he knew what was going on in there, everything being confirmed by the rhythmic creaking of the mattress.
and he knows what you look like. he can see it. feel it. hell, he lived for it at one point
pushes himself from the sofa and straight out of the door. not wanting to hear a second more.
-
you don’t feel as bad as expected in the morning, rough but not as bad as you should be feeling.
robin’s now ready to celebrate, steve agreeing and you almost want to hurl at the mention of going out. eddie sits in silence at the end of the table, he’d been pretty strange this morning and you’d wondered if you said something to upset him last night.
you could vaguely recall the self-pitying spiel you’d forced him to listen to. physically cringing at the fact you’d started crying and wailing about steve to him.
robin suggests having some people over, just a small thing with close friends. maybe if everyone was up for it you could all go out afterwards. that you could agree to.
she rounds the troops, calling the friend you all shared. who all agreed to get there at eight. something small and casual she repeats down the phone.
there’s a few tag-alongs, people you’d met briefly at parties or friends of friends who had been dragged along. so it wasn’t the small gathering you’d pictured with just the gang. but it was okay.
the speaker being turned to max and the living room full of people. everyone in high spirits because finals had finished and were relatively confident that they’d at least scraped a pass.
you edge through the crowd, waking over to steve who was splayed out on the couch, spliff hanging from his fingers. he grins when he sees you, opening his arms.
‘hey pretty girl,’ beckoning for you to climb onto his lap, arms snug around your waist as he passes the spliff to you, still giggling at his pet name.
eddie glowers from behind the couch, huffing before pushing himself up and storming into the kitchen. he hadn’t realised how much he’d already drank, liquor coursing through his veins.
‘watch it,’ someone exclaims when eddie barges into their arm, subsequently spilling his beer onto the boys shirt.
eddie sees red. turning to the boy and snarling as he shoves his chest, sending him to the floor.
‘what the fuck did you say?’ grabbing the boy by the collar before smashing his fist into the side of the poor boys face.
steve hears the commotion, leering over the sofa to see what the fuck was even going on. he shoves you off of his lap, running to go and grab eddie from on top of this boy.
you finally see what everyone had crowded around, watching as eddie’s fist pummels into his now bloody face. only easing when steve grabs onto his arms, gasping for breath as he’s thrown back into reality. realisation setting in about what he’d just down.
people rush to the unconscious boy, somebody screaming to call an ambulance. the music cuts out harshly, silence echoing around the room as you stare at eddie, wide-eyed. terrified.
you’d never seen him like this. so brutal, covered in someone else’s blood. his chest falls and rises, staring back at you with an equally as horrified expression. steve is saying something to him but it’s not registering. a ringing in his ears as the world crashed and burned around him.
the police turn up alongside the ambulance crew. taking statements from whoever hadn’t left and eventually cuffing eddie. muttering about crazy fucking kids and quite forcefully pulling him from the apartment.
his eyes lingering on yours as he’s guided out. steve’s arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. you’re still in disbelief, tears welling in your eyes as you remember how unforgiving and downright cruel he’d been.
‘you wanna go to bed?’ steve asks, chest vibrating with his low voice. fingers combing through your hair, in your own corner of the living room as robin and nancy attempt to clean the floor.
jonathan and argyle are picking up tiny shards of glass, not an ounce of conversation between them. all still reeling from eddie’s outburst. you were sure he was going to jail, there wasn’t any way he could possibly wriggle out of this one.
‘we should-,’ the words getting caught in your throat, ‘we need to help clean,’ pulling back to look at the state of the room, discarded cups and splatters of alcohol on the walls.
‘we’re nearly done.. you should go to bed,’ robin nods, wringing the cloth out into the sink.
even they had come to the conclusion that this was something to do with you. you and steve in particular. the way eddie’s eyes had locked onto you the second steve had pulled him off of the boy.
you knew it. he’d been frosty and unusual with you all morning. with everyone in fact.
-
eddie emerges from his room for the first time in days. looking worse for wear and feeling just as shit. the tag on his ankle restricting him from leaving the apartment freely.
he peers down at the blinking red light, mentally cursing the plastic as he drags his feet along the carpet. he can hear you and steve chatting quietly, not really able to make out what was being said.
not expecting you both to be sprawled out on the couch, your leg draped over his waist as your delicate fingers combed through his hair. the last few days had been so bleak, that he couldn’t really find it in himself to hate that you were sharing these moments with steve.
he sighs loudly, hoping to let you know he’d entered the room. not wanted to be involuntarily including in whatever may have happened next.
you sit up slightly, gazing at him stood behind the kitchen counter, ‘hey,’ it’s quiet, but he hears it. almost deciding to ignore until he remembers how much you’d doted on him and helped him recently.
‘hi,’ but he doesn’t look back, staring into the empty fridge, waiting for something to materialise. but it doesn’t.
‘when’s your court date?’
the words sear in his ear, an unwelcome subject.
‘next tuesday,’ deciding upon a swig of milk straight from the carton, not exactly the five-course meal he was hoping for.
‘okay well, we were.. we’re gonna come, y’know.. for support,’ your eyes are unrelenting, following him around the kitchen.
‘don’t bother, i’m pleading innocent,’ completely monotonous in his response.
he’d already argued with the state provided lawyer about this. a shoddy man who could not care less whether eddie went down or not, just wanting to cash his cheque at the end of it all.
the balding man had called him stupid, ‘there are multiple witnesses.. plead guilty and they’ll probably pity you n’ slap you with some community service or summit.. don’t be stupid son.’
you scoff, using steve’s chest as leverage as you sit up properly, ‘you’re joking? right?’
his eyes finally meet yours, thumping his fists on the marble counter, ‘i am innocent,’ no one could understand where he was coming from, not even the man who was being paid to at least pretend to care and understand.
‘you beat the shit out of him, eddie.. you broke his fucking jaw,’ your eyes are wide, looking at him like he’s an idiot- which he was, but not about this.
‘i was provoked, self defence,’ he says in all serious. he was frustrated, lashed out but at the end of it all, the guy had bashed him first.
‘wh- because he accidentally knocked into you? you really must be fucking stupid.. what are you thinking?’
eddie notices steve, or what he could see of him, tense up, obviously not wanting to anger the violent monster eddie had become in so many people’s eyes.
‘it’s my choice.. i was fucking provoked, saw some stupid shit.. that’s not my fault,’ relinquishing the blame to you.
in his eyes, if he hadn’t seen the disgusting display of affection, he probably wouldn’t have fucked up that boy. but he had, and that wasn’t his fault. so how was he guilty?
‘you’re ridiculous.. i actually can’t believe you,’ your eyes full of disappointment.
the way your face falls, eyes narrowed and sharp as knives makes his heart twist. genuine hurt flashed on your face. almost paralleling the horrified expression you’d held as he was cuffed and dragged away.
‘it’s my decision, i wouldn’t expect you to know a thing about what it’s like to be me,’ kicking the fridge door closed with a loud thump.
you disappear from his sight, flopping back down onto steve’s chest with an exasperated sigh. he rolls his eyes before stomping off into his bedroom. his mood probably wouldn’t be so terrible if he could just leave this godforsaken apartment.
actually, why shouldn’t he? if you were so certain that he was going to jail anyway, what harm was there in going out? fuck it.
so he gets dressed, pulling his denim jacket on and spritzing himself with aftershave. he’d worry about the tag later, surely one of his buddies would have something to hack it off with. hopefully with minimal damage to his leg.
you don’t even look up from steve’s eyes when he comes back out, having had enough of his idiotic attitude for the day.
‘woah, where are you go-,’ steve starts before being cut off with the front door shutting, he was gone, without so much of a look back.
jogging down the stairs and out of this suffocating hellhole.
-
it doesn’t take long for the police to show up, banging their fists on the door and red in the face with anger.
they grilled you and steve for what felt like hours. making sure you hadn’t helped in his escape. tearing his room apart for some sort of clue to where he’d gone.
‘we found the tag at a location not far from here.. could anyone be hiding him? he’s in serious trouble.. we need anything you’ve got,’ the officer pleads, frustrated with having to deal with this bullshit on a thursday night. you don’t blame him.
you shake your head, ‘no.. i-i mean, there’s a few bars down on main but our friends aren’t stupid enough to help him.’
any previous feelings of worry had disappeared, replaced with frustration. you weren’t prepared to spend your whole life trying to find eddie every time he decided to run away. he so obviously didn’t give a shit about what you thought, it was a waste of energy at this point.
the officer sighs, ‘right, well you let us know if he gets in contact or comes back here,’ rummaging in his pocket for a small bit of card, ‘that’s my personal number.. call me straight away.’
you nod, thumbing the glossy card and flopping back onto the couch. steve shows them out, closing the door softly after they leave. he gives you a look, full of pity. he doesn’t say a thing but you know what he’s thinking.
‘i’m done,’ holding your hands up, ‘he can get himself out of this one.. i don’t care anymore,’ surrendering completely.
he nods, looking as just as tired as you felt. sometimes you forget that this isn’t just between you and eddie, steve is right in the middle of it all too, staying quiet and holding back for eddie’s sake.
you’d tried to be courteous and thoughtful with eddie. pulling away from steve when he’d enter the room, trying not to be so overly affectionate in front of him. you felt like maybe you owed him that for how you’d gone about it, but why?
not once had he ever shown interest in being with you romantically, he was the one that’d explicitly said that you and him were friends with some added benefits. screw him.
‘you hungry? i wanna get out of here,’ pushing yourself from the couch and throwing your arms around steve’s waist, cheek squished against his chest.
‘i could eat,’ returning the hug, swaying slightly as his hands roam around your back.
-
eddie’s pov
eddie checks his phone for the umpteenth time.
no new notifications
he was anticipating at least something from you by now. hell, even a pathetic hi would’ve sufficed. the man wasn’t dumb, choosing to hole himself up in gareth’s basement with a six-pack rather than hitting the main spots.
he questions whether the dinghy, dark basement was any better than the confines of the room he’d escaped. supposing that you and steve weren’t next door, anything would be better.
he debates just calling you first. curious to know why you hadn’t called. maybe after the next beer. or maybe now. fuck it, it’s already dialling.
it rings and rings, becoming increasingly concerned with your well-being.
‘what?’ your voice rings out after the fifth or sixth ring.
he’s taken aback, ‘hello to you too,’ taking another swig of beer, his knees pulled up to his chest.
‘what d’you want?’
christ. you really weren’t falling for it this time.
‘nothin’.. just expected to hear from you by now, that’s all.’
he can hear the eye roll through the phone, your tiny almost inaudible little tut, ‘i’m not saving you this time.’
‘i didn’t ask you to.’
‘so why’d you call then? i’m busy.’
‘you with steve?’ he doesn’t even know why he asked, of course you were.
‘yeah, i am.. is that what you wanted to hear? or were you hoping i was out searching for you with the police?’
ouch. you’d called him out. figured out his silly game and threw it straight back in his face.
‘i didn’t- you just had to rub it in, didn’t you?’ anger rising in his throat, ‘you always do.’
‘you think i’m doing this to make you jealous? this isn’t about you anymore.. you need to get over yourself,’ you sigh, empathetic about the harsh words that’d just spilled out, ‘i love him, eddie.. you’re gonna have to deal with that.’
and with that the phone clicks. you’d hung up. you had hung up on him, no grovelling or pleading for him to come back home. that was it. the harsh truth and now he had to just sit with it.
his head falls back against the cold brick, staring up at the damp covered ceiling, weighing up his options. he knew he’d fucked up. best case scenario, he’d get a couple extra months on his sentence. worst case, they’d throw the book at him for wasting their time.. not to mention the already hefty sentence for the assault.
you had completely and utterly exhausted yourself trying to support him and even you had had enough. he only had himself to blame for that. maybe jail would be a good thing? he could get his head straight.. get over you, maybe even find some purpose in his life.
he pulls another beer from the pack, cracking it open and taking a long swig. exhaling as the bitter liquid seeps down his throat. there was only one way out of this fucked situation and he knew that.
-
eddie perks up when he hears your key in the door, sat on the couch for what seemed like hours waiting for you both to get back.
your face drops the instant you see him, gripping onto steve’s hand as you walk into the dimly lit living room.
eddie stands, holding up his hands, ‘i’m gonna hand myself in.. i just-,’ he exhales deeply, ‘i wanted to say goodbye,’ jaw tense as he looms between you and steve.
‘you are? do you want me to call the sheriff? i- he gave me his number..’
‘no, no.. i’m gonna go down there.. it’s easier,’ eddie motions towards the door, shaking his head.
you stand dumbfounded for a second before nodding slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek, ‘it’s the right thing to do..’ the lump in your throat growing as you look back at the pathetic man in front of you.
steve gives him a weak smile, patting his hand on your arm. there’s a brief moment of silence. the three of you all staring back at one another in awe of the fucked up mess you’d wound up in.
‘c’mere,’ steve motions to eddie, walking over to the boy with arms outstretched. he pulls him into a bear hug, clapping his palm on eddie’s back.
from the look on eddie’s face squished against steve’s shoulder you can tell he needed it, ‘i’ll miss you man..’ he breathes into his best friend’s sweater.
‘we’ll come and visit.. you’re not getting rid of me that easy,’ his laugh is shaky as he pulls away, smiling proudly at his friend.
you stand slightly behind steve, watching on with tears brimming in your eyes. even though steve had tried to reassure you, you couldn’t help but feel so guilty that this had ultimately all happened because of you.
eddie walks over slowly, throwing his arms around your body, gripping his fingers into your arms knowing that this may very well be the last time he ever got to hold you like this.
your arms cling around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest, ‘i’m proud of you..’ was all you managed to croak out, tears wetting his dirty t-shirt.
he sniffs, swallowing the lump in his throat, ‘thank you.. for everything,’ because truly, you were the only person to never give up on him, even if he had made it incredibly difficult for you.
you lift your head off of his chest, staring up at him with sodden cheeks, bottom lip quivering as you let go of him. both physically and emotionally.
he puffs his cheeks out, wiping his face with the back of his hand before clearing his throat and nodding at the pair of you, ‘you take care of her..’ eyebrow raised.
‘aye aye captain,’ steve gives him a tight lipped smile and a half-assed salute, watching as the man he had grown up with walked out of the apartment, head held high and a newfound spring in his step.
the end of the beginning.
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peppermint-toads · 10 months
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𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗?
𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
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𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 long time no see and 80s slasher summer is here
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 light piv sex, insecure reader, 1.4k words, bad grammar and smut writing sry
𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 you and eddie are camp counselors and hookup every summer, but it’s not enough for you and poor eddie baby
“Miss me, Munson?” You asked from the door, waving away the milky smoke that pillowed from his spot on his bunk.
Twelve summers at Camp Blue Lake had led you and Eddie into your early adulthood where you’d become counselors.
As the summers got hotter and you grew older, you and Eddie had started an annual summer fling of sorts, a tradition, really.
Like clockwork, you would sneak away during the evenings when the campers were in the mess hall, making the most of every moment whether it was in his bunk or yours, the art cabin, or sometimes the woods.
You popped your hip out, hoping he would like the new shorts you bought for the season.
He rolled his head towards you, looking you up and down to see what time apart had done to you. He tried to look uninterested. He was shirtless, and you couldn’t help but ogle. He’d gotten new tattoos.
“Don’t you know this kinda thing is bad luck? You know what happened to those counselors in Friday the 13th, right?”
“What? Did the Hawkins girls treat you too well this year?” Your dejected tone didn’t go unnoticed, even though you tried to conceal it with a smirk.
You thought maybe he’d found a girlfriend and didn’t need you anymore.
Truth was, Eddie dreaded seeing you more and more each summer because leaving you was getting harder and harder. And missing you was even worse.
He laughed a little as he exhaled.
“Not quite.”
His smile faded into something sad as he succumbed to your pretty face staring at him with an insecurity he wasn’t used to.
“Indianapolis boys treat you well?”
You shook your head. You hadn’t even bothered with other boys since the summer of ‘85; you were completely and totally hung up on Eddie.
“You don’t have yourself a little boyfriend, huh?”
He sat up on his palms, finally nodding you over to him. You plopped onto his tiny bunk happily, snatching his joint from his fingers.
“You don’t have to say it, it’s okay. I know you missed me.”
He scoffed.
You lie on your side, facing him and taking in all of the features you missed so much during the year. At some point, he’d worked up the courage to run his fingers softly across your cheek and through your hair.
It was slow and shy, but it was like riding a bike. You never really forgot how to love Eddie.
You watched him carefully, and he watched you back.
“It’s gonna be a hot summer,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His hand stopped and you frowned.
“D’you think Brad will wear those denim cutoffs this year?”
You sighed dreamily, “I can only hope.”
Eddie smacked your shoulder. “Hey!”
After a short fit of giggles, silence settled over the empty cabin again, and the buzzing of the cicadas became overpowering.
“If you don’t want to… you know… hook up or whatever you can just say so.” He sighed.
As if he hadn’t already stashed heaps of trojans underneath his thin mattress.
“Why wouldn’t I? We do it every summer? Unless—unless you don’t want to.”
You could feel the heat rising in your throat and heating your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Eddie really had probably found some sweet girl in Hawkins and felt too bad to tell you—
“Of course I do!” He rushed out. “I just thought I would… dunno, give you an out?”
You weren’t the only one feeling insecure. You decided to do the one thing you knew best.
The thing that always calmed you down. The thing that you did to celebrate winning color wars for the fifth summer in a row. The thing you missed so much while you were apart.
His lips felt the same as you remembered, instantly calming you despite the taste of stale weed on his tongue.
Usually, the first hookups of the camp season were eager and excited, squeezed in before the campers were set to arrive. But as you sunk down onto Eddie’s dick, something felt different. There was no rush.
The smell of his hairspray mixed with the heavy, humid air of the cabin, and the way Eddie felt so deep in your stomach after months without him almost made you cry.
He was so soft with you, and his eyebrows stayed knit together as he watched your breaths become more shallow and skin more flushed.
Everything felt so familiar, and as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder you could barely contain the words nagging your tongue. I love you, Eddie. Please, please, please. I can’t spend another minute away from you I—
His soft grunting pulled you from your thoughts. You could tell he was getting close.
Psycho. You’re just his summer fling. Always have been, always will be.
You told yourself that, but you didn’t believe it.
Maybe Eddie could tell it had been a while since you’d had sex, because you were already whimpering into his shoulder like you did when you were close. But you could tell he was in the same boat.
The last time you’d had sex with anybody was a year ago in the very same spot on the last night of camp. You’d snuck away during the closing bonfire to feel each other one last time. That was the first time you’d let him fuck you without a condom.
When you collapsed onto Eddie’s chest, the setting sun was seeping through the damp and rotting wood of cabin 5, clinging to your sweaty skin.
“Campers will be here soon. We should probably set up for s’mores.” You said absentmindedly, tracing shapes onto his skin.
“Those slackers Brad and Cindy can do it. Let’s stay like this for a little longer.
Eventually you had to get up, the bustle of the rest of the counselors arriving meant soon the cabin would be occupied by campers, and you decidedly would not be reliving the incident where Tommy found your pair of Tuesday panties. He attached them to a stick and ran around the grounds screaming “Girl panties, girl panties!”
As the hours passed, more and more campers came tripping out of their cabins and onto the lawn where the girls huddled around each other trading scrunchies and talking about the boys they hoped to kiss that summer, and the boys played tag in the dark after seeing whose feet had grown the biggest.
The night sky blanketed the camp, and you relaxed into Eddie’s side, listening to the screeching and laughing of the campers.
“You remember our first kiss?” You asked him.
Eddie smiled and hummed deep in his throat.
“Mhm, right here in front of this very campfire.”
“We were what? 15?”
“Yeah, and everybody went down to the lake and we stayed back. Then you just laid one on me.”
“That is so not true!” You whined. “You so kissed me first, asshole!”
“I’m remembering it a little differently, sweetheart.”
Eddie had kissed you first. He was shaking and stumbling over his every word as he leaned in, bracing himself for you to shove him away from you. Really you were just as nervous, sweating because you thought you might’ve had marshmallow stuck in your braces.
Quiet settled over you again, and the sounds of the cicadas were back droning in your ears.
“I was thinking about moving into the city, you know. Getting my own place and all.”
“Really?” You asked, sitting up to face him.
Your face was bathed in orange light, and he swore he’d do anything for you.
He nodded.
“Dave said I could work at one of his shops in Indianapolis, like a transfer.”
“What about Wayne?”
You knew why Eddie was moving, and you wouldn’t be the reason he left his uncle.
Eddie just scoffed. “He’s got a new lady friend, Darlene. He’s plenty occupied.”
You smiled. “That could be nice, then.”
“I was also thinking about taking you on a date. Someplace without mosquitoes?”
“You going all soft on me, Munson?”
“Oh absolutely not, I’m still gonna bang your brains out after. Just thought we could go somewhere nicer than the mess hall beforehand.”
“What do you mean? Chef Agatha’s cooking is totally romantic.”
You leaned in closer to Eddie’s side, your chest and stomach warming at the idea of finally getting to be his.
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fridayplease · 7 days
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A Different Look At This Scene
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I know, what more could possibly be said about it? But let me try.
We've watch our boy intently, seen every flicker of sadness, fear, shame, rage, hatred... It's all beautiful. Now, let's savor Cazador's end from the bastard's perspective.
Convinced of His Own Power
His Sulkiness ain't scared yet. He's not in control, but he hasn't internalized that yet - Cazador has been a predator for so long, he doesn't remember what it feels like to be the prey. He's still, somehow, at least fractionally convinced of his own power.
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"The spawn will never be free - he is my creation, now and for eternity!" Not his name - never his name. "The spawn."
Look at the supposed-to-be charming 'let's be reasonable' smile slipping and barely restrained rage taking over for a second. This is not a man who is used to restraining his anger for anyone. He is aching to be violent.
With a gentle movement of the dagger, Astarion reminding him who holds the power here. The agonized sadness and hurt on his face.
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And Baron Bats-for-Brains continuing to treat him disrespectfully, talking down to him as though speaking rudely to a child.
...but watch his focus drift back to the dagger, though.
Back to Astarion. The righteous anger, the conviction, again that lean in we see in other shots where he wants to get his point across. He slaps his own trauma down, looks Lord Leech dead in the undead eyes and, in beautiful Astarion fashion, tells him I'm not yours.
"You might have made me what I am, but I am so much more than you created me to be."
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He doesn't deny what he is - instead, he claims his own future for himself. Okay, back to the bastard.
The beautiful visual metaphor of silencing his abuser as the camera angle drags the tip of the blade across the Sneering Snivel's lips. I love it. Flawless. *chefs kiss* Thank you, Larian, it's so good.
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"But I am grateful for one thing; you really showed me how to savor moments like this."
Something we know from what Astarion says about the Pompous Parasite is that Cazador liked to make it hurt; he liked the screams, he enjoyed the anticipation of the moment, drawing out the torturous seconds before the blow. Extracting noises he called music.
Astarion gives that torture of anticipation back to him in this moment and it's beautiful. Watch Sir Suck-a-Lot's eyes drift from Astarion's face to the dagger again, then that flicker of concern as he eyes it. We hate the f*cker, but he does have a good poker face when he wants to.
A moment for Astarion in his power before we go back to the bastard;
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Finally, the F*cker's Fear
Finally some FEAR and realization on that hateful face. The weight of this all has sunk in now. He's lost control, he has no power, he's about to be stabbed many times, by someone he knows has a massive pile of very detailed and horrifically specific reasons to hate him.
He's fucked. He finally knows that.
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Look at the Shadow Slitherer staring at the dagger, look at the fear position of his hands, the way he bows his head at the end, even before Astarion's hand is in his hair.
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The Duke of Dracula's Dumpster has finally recognized his end.
Okay, first... let's just enjoy this for a moment. It's glorious, we love it... savor it. Someone should feel good from this. (...and it's not going to be Astarion.)
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Enjoyed? Good. Alright, here we we go again.
Oh My God, The Eye Contact
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Watch Astarion stare into his eyes as he raises the blade, the way he rips his gaze gack to savor the bastard's face as the second and third stabs get slammed in.
Pain on Marquis Mirthless's face, one agonized glance up at Astarion's face before his eyes shudder closed. The single plea for mercy; No! before he's stabbed 14 times.
The camera reminding us of the scars he put on Astarion, of why we're here... what Astarion's giving up by killing Cazador instead of ascending.
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Controlling Him With His Hair
So I'm gonna guess that I'm not the only one in this thread with a little trauma... does that grab and yank look like re-enacted trauma to you? Because it does to me.
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Something tells me Cazador knew it was coming, too. Good.
The Blade Flip
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Just... appreciate it for a moment. He's fully in the throes of a very chaotic moment and has both the presence of mind and dexterity to show off. With a purpose
"I am so much more than you created me to be."
Flinging that in Count Cringeworthy's face while literally stabbing him to death. Flawless. Peak rogue behavior.
The message behind the flip, Cazador's twitching hands, Astarion's hand leaving his hair and the fury behind the next stabs.
The Escalation of Intensity
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He changes his stance, sets his feet and rains down blows.
And they're still good, clean stabs. Look at the good rogue bladework he's taught himself, look at him put those stabs on a razor-straight plane going in and out. Maximum force on delivery, minimal effort on retrieval, really good and clearly practiced technique.
The way his hand mostly hovers over Cazador once he starts to fall. I don't think he wants to touch him again and honestly? I don't blame him. The dude was gross before and he's grosser now, all stabbed n bloody n shit.
The feral savagery of his face on those last few stabs. The ferocious hatred with which he pulls the blade free.
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Seriously, that last scream and stab... look at everything in his eyes. The hatred, the two hundred years of trauma, the stolen life, the power he's rejecting, ...and, buried under everything else, the fear.
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He had a plan coming into this; Ascendancy. That plan has come undone, he's set his feet on a new path and there is literally no going back.
The Realization
You can hear this gif, can't you? I want to give Neil a hug every time I listen to it, wondering what trauma was channeled into that moment. It's beautiful, it's poignant in a I had to reload the first time I heard it because I dropped my Steam deck, burst into tears and missed the rest of the scene way. It hurts.
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The stagger back, the way he wrenches his eyes away from the body and stares at the ceiling. The look up of abject agony and almost disbelief that it's finally over... it's done.
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The dazed wobble, falling brokenly to his knees.. catching himself on the bloodied hand still clutching the dagger. Looking at his bloody hand and the dagger. Apparently releasing it, because we don't see it in his hand again.
Here it is again, closer:
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Recovering his balance, rising back to his knees... not ready to stand yet. Still stunned and dazed and waiting for the victorious and vindicated and triumphant feelings he's pretty sure are supposed to be happening right now to kick in.
His eyes turning to the bleeding out body of his former master. There's anguish, misery, the weight of so much trauma resting so heavily on his shoulders (and wasn't that supposed to be magically gone now?), watching Cazador twitch and bleed himself to death.
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Has anyone ever wanted to comfort a fantasy character more than we did in this moment? Did it ruin anyone else's day that we couldn't comfort him early on? (updated this because apparently we can now?? I have no idea how I missed that. See you guys in a few days, haha, I know what I'll be doing)
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Where he expected to find victory and celebration and triumph, he has found numbness and pain and loss. Loss of the power he gave up, loss of the illusion of safety he'd been clawing towards, loss of the idea of being free of the clawing hunger inside... loss of the hope that this death would bring him release from the torment inside.
But the death of a tormentor does not gift us with the death of the torment they perpetuated upon us. And so...
He weeps.
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And we stand there. Until his siblings approach him first. Not with praise or comfort, no. They bring him their questions and needs. As, I'm guessing, they have always done to some degree.
Then there's the fucking pose. Kneeling, shoulders back, chin down, hands on thighs. Compare it to Cazador's almost matching pose earlier, as well as some of Astarion's comments about life under Cazador.
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Then his siblings approach and has to put his armor on once more. Standing there half-naked, covered in blood, full of somehow both anguish and numbness, with the body of Cazador on the floor and both his found-family and forced-family about to meet for the first time.
As he has a thousand times before, he forces himself to be strong. Even though he has to struggle to get to his feet.
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That little almost too-perfect smile. It’s practiced. Poised. The armor is back on.
Then he gets up, gets to his feet and carries on. As he always has. And for the same reason he always has.
Because he must.
202 notes · View notes
bettysupremacy · 2 years
Text
Who could be a more doting boyfriend?
Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
Based off this request
Summary: 10 times Eddie Munson showed just how down bad he was.
Warnings: mentions of weed, food is brought up too, very very fluffy, Eddie down bad, sick! Reader for one, reader only in towel at one point, reader eats bacon in one, fem! Reader, tell me if I’ve forgotten any.
3.7k words because I luv u
Saccharine kisses were her favorite. The kind of kisses where he would ghost his lips over her skin, hovering, before planting a long sweet kiss to wherever he deemed most kissable at the moment.
She loved the way it never failed to make her stomach flip. The way it never failed to make her dizzy in the head and weak in the knees.
She loved that when it made her exhale wonky he’d look at her with this lovesick smile, before pressing more kisses around the area. Quicker, but non less full of love.
That’s why now, laying in bed, sick as a dog, she doesn’t have the strength to push him away. Thats why pawing at him uselessly, the only strength she’d managed earlier, had ceased.
“I’m gonna get you sick.” She whines.
They’re laying in her bed, intertwined like these are her last moments, like Eddie needs to get the most out of them.
Like a sad Victorian painting.
“I don’t care, Juliet, this world is a place I cannot live in without you.”
She scoffs, it coming out more like a cough than anything else. He pats her back as she coughs, letting her sit up to cover her mouth, and frowning when she shakes her head at the Gatorade he holds up for her.
“I’ve got the flu, you dolt. I’m not dying.” He pulls her back down, rubbing at the arm she’s wrapped around his stomach.
She didn’t know wether she was cold or hot, but the goosebumps that rose on her arms, from his fingers dancing over her skin, chilled her deliciously.
“He says that though, right?” He asks.
“Romeo?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never read the play.”
He ponders this for a moment, tilting his head up, further into the faded grey of his old pillow case.
“What are you think-“
“Shh.”
She gives him an incredulous look, she could be dying for gods sake! Treat her with a little respect-
“O Romeo, Romeo, where..fore art thou Romeo?”
She looks up at him, head not lifting from its position on his chest, but a confused smile is playing on her lips.
“You’ve read it?”
“Well when you take senior year three times..”
“Oh, right.” She tilts her head back down, ear press into the warm skin above his steadily beating heart, as she curls around him.
He stops his fingers dance over her arms, only letting her frown momentarily, before they card their way through her wet hair. They work out small knots and kinks they hadn’t brushed out. He cranes his neck to press a long kiss on the top of her head.
“Did the shower make you feel better?” He murmurs against her hair.
“I don’t know.”
He sighs, knowing her too well to think that she’d admit his suggestion didn’t work. “I’ll go get the tv from the living room and wheel it in here, Kay?”
She nods, nasally voice making him frown. “Mkay.”
He gently removes himself from under her, making sure to pull the blankets back up before completely retracting.
“And the vapor rub. I’ll grab the vapor rub too.” His palms dig into his mattress as he hovers over her.
“God bless.”
He smiles at her, lips coming down to kiss hers affectionally. She kisses back before she realizes what she’s done.
“Do not kiss me, Edward, I know you’re not vaccinated.”
A deep groan leaves his lips as he walks away, into the living room for the TV and vapor rub.
“What is a desperate man to do?”
She can’t help but smile as she tucks herself into his freshly clean, for the first time in 2 years, sheets.
She rummages through his drawers, fingers making quick work of the unfolded clothes thrown in them.
“Eddie?” her voice drifts through his bedroom door, and into the kitchen, where he’s staring intently at the microwave.
He pushes his door open, weary as to where to put his eyes while his girlfriend is in nothing but a towel.
“Yes?”
“Do you know where my clothes are? I thought I left them in this drawer but..”
“Oh! Hold on!”
He goes back though his door, returning with a basket of laundry. It’s not fresh, nor warm to the touch, but it was definitely recently that it had been washed.
“You washed my clothes?”
“It was after you got sick,” he shrugs nonchalantly, cheeks tinging a shade, due to the way she smiles at him.
The smell of them wafting up into her face only deepens her already bright smile. She picks up her shirt, bringing it to her nose and inhaling.
“And you used-?”
The look on his face is downright bashful. “I remembered it was your favorite, so I picked you up some when I went shopping with Wayne.” He scratched his neck, “S’no big deal really.”
Her arms wrap around his neck, towel hanging on for its life.
“No, it is. Thank you, baby.”
Her fingers scratch his scalp lightly, digging into his curls and tugging gently. He feels like a dog being pet. Is this what they feel like? Lucky bastards.
He fears his leg may start kicking.
“You’re welcome.” He muffles into her neck, arms wrapped around her waist so that the towel doesn’t fall, “I’m glad you’re happy.”
She had called him from work, voice full of tears.
“My sweet girl, can’t you come home early?”
“Janie was supposed to come in today, but she flaked, so now I’m alone.”
“Come home, leave Austin and Marie to close today. No baby, we don’t need that money for the rent, enough cars needed fixing this week. I promise, come home- my home.”
So she did.
But trudging through Eddie and Wayne’s front door, he was nowhere to be found. His van was outside where it normally was, his shoes were haphazardly thrown in the direction of the front door - like they normally were, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Each shoe is toed off quietly, as she softly calls his name, not wanting to disturb Wayne’s weird sleep schedule. “Eddie?”
She’s scrubbing at her face, trying to get the tear tracks off.
“Eddie?”
She pads through the hall, into the bathroom where she can hear water running.
“What’s this?”
He looks up, panic stricken through his face.
“No, no, no. Go sit on the couch real quick.”
Nothing but hurt is read on her face. “What, why?”
He rushes up, cupping the back of her neck with his wet hand, while the other slides around her waist, pulling her closer.
“I did something for you.”
“You did?”
She peaks behind him into the dingy bathroom. He’s got the water running and her favorite soaps out displayed on the tub.
“No peaking!”
He uses the hand around her neck to push her face in his chest.
“You ran me a bath?” It’s muffled in his Megadeth shirt.
“Do you like it?”
“Is that your way of telling me I’m dirty?”
“What? No, no, no. I just thought that you might- uh, I thought that you might like it-?”
She laughs and he basks in it. Letting it cleanse and settle over him.
“I was joking, honey.”
He smiles, teeth poking through has he lets out breathless - relieved laughs.
“Go,” he skews his head toward the bathroom.
“But-“
“Go, I’m making dinner.”
“You’re making dinner? Baby.”
“I’m ordering from that Chinese place, the one across the street from the library,” He lets out another breathless laugh. “Go.”
“Oh, okay then.”
Something is stirring inside of her chest. Something warm and light. It muddles around, making her heart flutter and palms sweaty.
She’s never gotten a love letter before.
It’s not the most put together thing she’s ever seen, but it’s got to be her favorite. It’s small, but pink, and she could tell Eddie used his best handwriting for this. At the very end he signed it off with -E and a poorly drawn version of his guitar.
Where did he get pink paper?
She holds it in her hands like it’s gold, like it could tear at any moment, but two fingers pluck it out before she has the chance to read it a third time.
“Who wrote you up?” Rob asks suspiciously, eyeing the pink referral slip between her index and middle finger.
“No one-?”
Oh, that’s where he got it.
She tugs it from Robins fingers, flipping it so she could see the back - or what is actually known as the front of the paper.
Eddie Munson Grade 12 10/3/86
REASON FOR REFERRAL
-Cutting Class
-Lack of Cooperation
-Restless, Inattentive
ACTIONS TAKEN PRIOR TO REFERRAL
-Detained Student After School
PRESENT ACTION AND RECOMMENDATION(S)
-Student Regrets Incident, Cooperative
Robin reads the back as Y/N reads the front. He wrote her a love letter on the back of a referral slip?
“He wrote you a love letter on the back of a referral slip? What’s next? A receipt from a drug deal?” She ignores the instant, drug deals don’t have receipts dipshit, thought that pops up.
“That’s so sweet! He wrote me a love letter on pink paper!” Robin can’t help the twitch of a smile on her lips. “You think he’ll write me more?”
“If he doesn’t I’ll jeopardize his business.” She slings her arm around Y/N’s shoulder.
“What are best friends for?”
“It’s too early, it’s too early.” She whines as Eddie pushes back her hair, pressing light kisses into it, while she wraps her arms tighter around his chest.
“I know, I know.”
The sun shines in through Eddie’s open windows, the red sheet nailed above the larger one casting a crimson hue over them.
They tangle in the bed sheets, languidly and lethargic, similar to the way they held each other when she had the flu.
“C’mon, baby you gotta wake up.”
She grumbles, hands snaking under his back, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin as his box fan blows on them. They settle and he smiles as she opens her eyes.
“Why’s your shirt on?” Her sleep raspy voice tugs multiple strings in his heart.
Eddie always slept shirtless.
“I’ve already been up, sweetheart.”
“You’ve already been up?”
He smiles down at her, pushing some hair from where it sticks to her forehead. “Mhm.”
She pushes up, arms caging Eddie’s chest, as she hovers over him.
“You’re wearing your kiss the mechanic apron.” she points out, like he wouldn’t have known.
“I am.”
“Did you make breakfast?”
He shrugs, “Get up and see.”
She whines, shaking her head, laying back down on him. “Carry me?”
He thinks about it for a moment, looking down at her droopy eyes and tapping her thigh. She wraps her legs around him and he sits up, letting her be carried in his arms to the kitchen.
She smiles, resting her head on his shoulder, as he murmurs “Needy, needy, girl.”, shuffling to get a better grip on her.
“You hungry?” He softly asks.
“I’m tired.”
“Oh, I know.”
The counter is cold against her thighs as he sets her down. She squirms sadly, and he can do nothing but smile affectionately at her.
The plate he hands her is paper and warm. He sets a napkin on her lap, before the plate, so it doesn’t burn her poor thighs. Though, her eyes are closed as he does this, hands messily wiping the sleep from her eyes, so she doesn’t see the food.
“Warm.”
“Very warm,” He nods. “Eat, baby.”
Pressing a fork into her hands, he gently tugs her hands away from the cruel work they were doing to her eyes.
“Bacon? You got me bacon?”
“Benny was giving slabs away for free, down at the diner.” He bends over and kisses her jaw.
“I love bacon.”
“I know.” His voice is nothing but teasing, though, she doesn’t mind.
“You cooked the bacon by yourself?” She sets her fork down, grabbing his hands, and inspecting his arms. “And you didn’t get popped by the oil?”
He flushes, “Wayne helped me. But I made everything else by myself!”
She looks down at the food fondly. Eggs cooked like she taught him when they first started dating. Toast unburnt. Wayne’s bacon.
Wayne’s bacon was so good.
“Go get a plate, I’m not eating without you.”
“On it.”
“Okay, hands like this.” He grips her fingers, smiling as she lets him bend them in the right places. “Yeah! Okay, now pluck the third string.”
She plucks it, and it comes out sounding significantly better then 10 minutes ago. “You’re doing it! I’m so proud of you.”
He attacks her cheek with kisses and she scrunches her nose, pulling away in feigned annoyance.
“Teach me to play I Have a Dream.”
“What?” He pulls back agast. “I’m teaching you to play guitar on sweetheart, and you want me to teach you to play ABBA?”
She giggles, laying her head in his neck. “Yes, please.”
“No, baby, I’m teaching you to play 2 Minutes to Midnight.”
“No,” There’s a whiny edge to her voice. “That song is so hard.”
“You could do it.”
“Only if you helped me.”
“Deal.”
He lifts the guitar back up, twisting her fingers to the right frets.
“This is going to be so metal.”
He laughs out loud.
“-and I told Robs to go to the front of the class and tell the teacher, but she didn’t wanna embarrass herself In front of the Nancy.”
Eddie nods along, leaning against the lockers. This isn’t a conversation he’s particularly interested in, but-
“I think they’d make a good couple, don’t you?”
“Who?”
“Robin and Nancy!”
“Rob and Nance? Totally.” He waves his hand, as if dismissing any thought that they wouldn’t be.
“I knew you’d think so.”
The halls are almost empty, dismissal bell rang 5 minutes ago, but when you don’t have a bus to catch you always have a little extra time to put your stuff away.
“Are you ready?” Eddie asks, watching her shove books in her locker that she refuses to take home.
“Almost,” She turns to Eddie, looking behind him. “I just thought I heard Rob and Nances voice. I guess I’m going cra-“
She stumbles, having slipped on something, even though she could’ve sworn there was nothing on the ground a minute ago.
“Woah baby, woah baby.” Eddie grips her arms tightly, but not cruelly. Just tight enough to keep her upright. “What was that?”
“Slipped on,” She looks down at the floor “My shoelace, I guess.”
“You guess? Baby, you gotta be careful.” He bends down to one knee, patting it lightly for her to put her foot on.
Her left hand is flat against the lockers for balance as he ties her shoe for her.
“You can’t have untied shoes, sweetheart. Y’could trip and hurt yourself.” She watches fondly as he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re fine, I just don’t want an injured girlfriend.” He finishes, patting her foot in approval.
“You wouldn’t love me if I was injured?”
He stands up, “Who said that?”
“You did!”
“I love you so much I wouldn’t be able to look at you, cause seeing you injured would make me so sad.”
“You wouldn’t take care of me?”
“I’d call mama Steve, I can’t stand to see you hurt.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He grabs her cheeks and presses a hard kiss to her mouth. “You’re welcome.”
Eddie’s room is dark like it normally is. His bong is next to him and his guitar is on his knee resting.
He loves nights like these.
He taps his knee rhythmically, slow, unlike his other songs. A power ballad if you will.
He’s been at this for hours. Strumming, tapping, and scribbling lyrics into a blank page of his math notebook.
Just as he pulls his pick out of his mouth again he hears a soft knock on his door. It’s probably just Wayne.
“Hey, boy.” Wayne cracks the door open, checking to see if Eddie is decent. “I’m leavin now.”
Eddie checks his watch, humming in confirmation.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
Wayne nods. “You writing a new song?”
Eddie smiles at his uncles effort to make conversation.
“Yeah, for Y/N.”
Now it’s Wayne’s turn to smile. “She’ll like it.”
He could hear it through the walls? Eddie flushes.
“You think?”
“Yup.” Wayne puts a baseball cap on. “I like ‘er.”
He turns to leave, closing the door behind him, leaving Eddie in shock.
“I’m out!” He hears Wayne yell, before locking the door behind him.
“Bye!”
That was.. strange.
Her eyes hurt from reading, her back hurts from hunching over her bedroom desk, and her heart hurts from not accepting Eddie’s kisses.
This is one of the rare nights that she isn’t sleeping at Eddie’s, having to study for the math test tomorrow, but 20 minutes ago Eddie came in through the window, and she’s gotten no work done since.
It doesn’t really matter, due to the three hours of studying she got in before he came, but it’s still stressful nonetheless.
“Cmon baby, let’s go to bed.” Eddie’s Laying on her bed, flipping through a magazine.
“I can’t, I’ve gotta study.”
“Baby, you‘ve been studying since 9:30.”
“So? What time is it now?” She doesn’t look up from the equation.
“12:43? You gotta sleep at some point.”
Startled, she checks her watch, eyes widening when she realizes he’s right.
He’s getting up, tossing the magazine, and pulling her up outta the chair. He wraps his arms around her neck, kissing the top of her head a generous amount of times.
She whines pulling away, causing him to gasp in offense.
“What could I have possibly have done?”
“Want it on my lips.”
“Only if you promise to go to bed with me.” He bargains.
“Fine.”
He grabs her face and kisses her just the way she likes. Saccharine and sweet.
“Will you come to bed now?”
“Only because I love you.” She nods glumly.
He smiles playfully down at her. “Oh, but I love you more.”
They had been watching a movie.
A newer one, starring Micheal J. fox. It wasn’t wasn’t usually Eddie’s thing, but he had agreed for Steve.
He’d insisted that they watch it. “No! You don’t understand! He goes back in time to-“
“Don’t spoil it for them!” Robin rasps.
“I’m not, Rob, I’ve just gotta get them hooked.”
“You don’t hook someone by spoiling a major plot point?”
So here they were, under warm covers, watching a movie that neither of them particularly wanted to watch.
Candy was splayed out In front of them. Red vines, runts, nerds, and sour patch kids, getting dug into every couple minutes. And though Eddie had whined about Steve making them choose this, after the first opening scene he was hooked.
“Goddamn, did you see the way he flung into the wall?”
She had, but she also had seen the rope tied to his stomach.
“Did you see the rope around his stomach?”
Eddie laughs, his chest shaking under her as he looks away from the tv. “No, can we rewind?”
She was content with this. Even though she didn’t particularly enjoy the movie, Eddie did, and that was enough for her.
“Damn,” Eddie mumbles, staring intently at the screen. He’s got one arm hanging off the couch, joint between fingers, and the other rubbing up and down her spine.
They’d been in this position since the movie started, utterly comfortable.
Eddie’s trailer had the worst insulation, and even worse ac and heating, so this was nice. Eddie was always warm, a natural heater, so this was always nice.
Nothing strikes in his head as unusual, they lay like this every night, but something about the way her breathing was so even gave it away.
“Hey doc, you better back up, we don’t have any road to get up 88.” The pretty Lea Thompson is perched on Micheals lap as he gives his line.
“Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.” He drops his aluminum glasses over his eyes, starting the car.
Eddie’s hand lazily rises from her back and up to her head, hovering. “Sweetheart?” No answer, “Are you sleepy? Are you asleep?” still, no answer.
He cranes his neck to the side, trying to get any glimpse of his tired girl sleeping, stuffing out his joint in the process.
“The movie ended,” He whispers. “I think there’ll be a second one.”
No reaction. He sighs, letting his hand move back down and continue the work it was doing to her back. He can’t move or wake her, it would do too much to his poor heart.
She shuffles in her sleep, head leaning up towards Eddie. He holds his breath until she’s done, then he lets his nimble fingers work over her hairline. Brushing away stray hairs gently, letting his middle finger swoop down her nose, cupping her face gently, just to look at her.
He loves moments like these. Moments where he gets to stare at her so unapologetically. Moments where he gets to memorize every detail about her face, without her looking over and asking What are you looking at baby?
The slope of her nose, the way her eyelashes curl, the tilt of her mouth, the way her eyebrows furrow at something in her dream.
“You’re so pretty.” Is whispered from his mouth absentmindedly.
She can’t hear him, stuck in dreamland slaying monsters dutifully, traveling the world with Eddie, shopping with Max, or swinging bats with Steve.
He knows she can’t hear him, but it still feels necessary to say. It’s something he needs to say.
Her breathing intakes, it’s something sharp and shallow. For a moment he thinks she’s woken, but her pretty eyes haven’t opened.
“Sweetheart?” He whispers, but the quick breathing doesn’t stop. “Bad dream, hmm?”
He bends his neck down, holding her in his arms, and scattering multiple kisses over her hairline, trying to calm her.
Slowly her breathing calms again, and he lets sweet relief wash over him. He needs to get them to their bed.
Once he’s fixed her in his arms, he carry’s her to the room, gently setting her down in her spot and pulling up the covers.
He gets up to take his shirt off, but a warm hand stops him.
“Don’t leave.”
He frowns, ache dwelling in his chest at the thought. Climbing under the covers with her, he lets her cling onto him, “I’m not.”
Guess he’s sleeping with his shirt on tonight
4K notes · View notes
missmeinyourbones · 1 year
Text
WARM CONVERSATION (suna x reader)
cw: breakup heavy, light mentions of reader going through it, angst to fluff i promise!!!! best friend osamu <3 kinda long im sorry, titled from sad beautiful tragic by taylor swift because what else would it be  
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You should've known he’d come over. Should've expected it the moment you sent the text turning down his offer disguised as a reminder. 
A sick part of you almost wants to laugh as you reread the texts on the phone in hand. 
From: Osamu
ur coming with me to atsumu’s stupid thing tonight, right?
To: Osamu
absolutely not 
Not even twenty minutes later (which is impressive, considering Osamu lives at least thirty away from your apartment), an abrasive knock is on your door and you don't even need to check the peephole to see who waits on the other side. 
The moment you open the door with unimpressed eyes, Osamu is opening his mouth to complain. 
“You're shitting me, right?” 
His tone walks the line of being in denial and being pissed, like he can’t quite be angry yet because he’s not sure if you’re joking with him or not. He does a quick once-over of your appearance—with pajamas you've been wearing for three days straight, dirty and unbrushed hair, and a more than half-eaten bag of chips in hand, you choose to shrug. 
“Can’t say I am,” you deadpan before turning your back to him, letting him huff his way into your apartment with urgency. 
“No,” he shakes his head to himself, laughing in disbelief, “no, you’re coming with me.”
Closing your eyes in frustration, your head falls back into a childish groan. 
“Osamu, I really don't want to.” 
“It’ll be good for you,” he's quick to try again. His eager words immediately have you scowling, but he can't tell if the waver in your voice is one on the verge of laughter or tears. 
“And how will celebrating your brother being awarded ‘The Sexiest Man in Japan’ be good for me?”
“Eurgh, not that,” he’s quick to clarify through an over exaggerated gag before reiterating, “just getting out there. Everyone’s missed ya.”
Your glare softens in the slightest at his sweet confession. He uses your hesitation from the sentimental moment to snatch the bag of chips from your grasp and raise his eyebrows in amusement. Instantly, your intimidating glare returns and you’re throwing your hands out at your sides in frustration. 
You whine obnoxiously, rubbing at your eyes with your fingertips before recollecting your stubborn self. 
“I'm no fun to be around right now,” you decide to remind him, crossing your arms in defense and letting him sit on your persistent words. 
Now, it’s Osamu’s gaze that softens at your harsh self-judgment.
“Yer the only one who thinks that,” he tries to match your sarcasm, but you’re sure to note the gentle tone weaving through his breath. 
Tired of the game of cat and mouse, you fold. Plopping yourself on the couch, Osamu cautiously sits next to you, where your head is in your hands and your nose is pinched in thought. 
“He’s back,” your voice is soft, barely above a whisper as your eyes meet the floor, “and he’s gonna be there.”
Osamu merely nods, as if he’s been expecting this point to be made.
“I know,” he agrees, before thinking out loud, “it’ll be the first time you’ve seen him since—” his voice loses its confident edge as his sentence trails off. 
With a humorless laugh, you bitterly finish for him, “Since we broke up?”
“Since you forced him to break up with you,” Osamu corrects through a smug grin, “but yeah.” 
And your eyes roll because he’s not technically wrong, there's just more to it—so you decide on biting your tongue and letting him have that one. 
When silence takes over, you assume that's the end of the conversation. Perhaps that was naive of you to think, as when you turn your head you’re still met with Osamu’s expectant gaze awaiting your response. 
“I don’t know, Osamu,” you give up into a sigh. 
Getting excited at your slipping determination, he sits further up on the couch. 
“I’ll be right there the whole time. I'll drive, we can leave whenever ya want, and if anyone says anything stupid, I’ll defend yer honor, per usual.”
Your silence speaks louder than your resistance, and Osamu can practically taste the victory on his tongue as he watches you loomingly mull it over. 
“You owe me a bottle of wine,” you declare as your head falls back into your hands. 
Osamu silently lunges his fist in the air at his success.
“Damn right I do,” he proudly agrees before tossing you the snack still held in his left hand, “I’ll even throw in a bag of chips, too.” 
Walking up to the door of Atsumu’s (disgustingly large) penthouse, the sickening memory of the last time you saw Suna intrudes your mind on repeat. 
You knew he’d be traveling. After officially signing with EJP Raijin, you had thought you braced yourself for this. The early training hours, the late night flights, the stealing time together just for it to be ripped away at any moment. You swallowed that pill and digested it fully.
And then he told you about America. About the year-long tournament and exclusive training program he’d been recruited into. You vividly remember him eagerly bragging about how not even Atsumu got invited. He was thrilled, and you were too, for him. 
But then came the unease, the insecurity that would eat away at your brain every night like a parasite. You couldn’t rest, couldn't live with yourself knowing that there could be more out there for him. You refused to hold him back from fully experiencing whatever this opportunity could bring him. You wanted him happy, whether that was with you or not. 
Needless to say, the breakup came as a surprise to him. Two weeks before he left, just when he had everything he’d ever dreamed of, the thing he needed the most decided to slip from his grasp. 
“You're being stupid,” he threw out in a panic. “You don’t get to just decide that for me when it affects both of us.”
“I already made up my mind,” you'd croaked out through teary eyes and a constricting throat.  
You remember Suna looking at you like he didn't even know you, like he didn't recognize the person standing in front of him. The person who held his heart in their hands, the person he has a ring hidden in his closet shelf for. Unrecognizable. 
Your shaking hands held out in front of you like a plea, you continued to use them to sever your red string of fate from him.
“You don't know what's out there for you. You could love it there, you could meet someone better than—”
“Why would you say that?” he winced at your words. He felt like he was going crazy, like this wasn't really happening. Not to him, not with you. “I don't want anyone who’s not you, I don't even want to think about that, I—”
“Rintaro,” your hand on his salty cheek was the last time he’d feel your touch. He didn't knows that at the moment, refused to believe it, but it was. He knows that now.
“I won't be able to live with myself if I don't do this,” your voice is barely audible behind your sobs. “I’d never forgive myself if I knew you had anything to regret.” 
Regret. 
He places his hand on top of where yours rests on his cheek. 
“I don’t want to do this,” he urgently begged, “I love you.” 
You smiled and it broke whatever was left of his heart.
“And I love you,” you ached. “So go to America, and don't think about me. And if there’s a world where you come back here a year from now and somehow still feel the same, then maybe things could be different. But we won't know that unless you go.” 
Two weeks later, Suna was on a plane to the states—and when he went to call you before he boarded, he was immediately sent to voicemail.
It’s been a year since it happened, but it feels like days when Atsumu opens his french wooden door with a brash welcome. 
The party in itself is fine, probably fun for the average guest invited. Atsumu thought it would be funny to throw himself a congratulatory party for being voted Japan’s Sexiest Man, though with the alcohol coursing through his veins and the hype from his past and current teammates, you’re willing to bet he fully believes it. 
The night passes like nails on a chalkboard, agonizingly slow and leaving you hyperaware of your actions. Conversation is easy enough. Everyone is kind and Osamu holds true to his promise of hanging by your side for the most part. You catch Suna’s gaze a handful of times, never holding it long enough to address it, nor feeling drunk enough to do something about it. You hate how foreign it feels. 
The balcony is a refreshing kind of cold on your clammy skin. The jacket you hold tightly against your torso is more so for protection than it is for warmth. 
You’d excused yourself from a small conversation with Iwaizumi and Osamu to escape onto a balcony of (one of) Atsumu’s guest rooms. Just for a moment—a moment to breathe, to stop thinking foolish thoughts, to bury yourself in the drink in your hand. 
The sound of the sliding door interrupts your sulking and your heart drops like glass on concrete.  
“Osamu said I might find you here,” the voice wavers, and you sigh in relief to hear that it’s Aran. 
“Fucking Osamu,” you curse behind a sip of your drink. “Remind me to kill him later.”
Aran laughs earnestly at your clear stress, “M’not that bad, am I?”
“No,” you're quick to correct, “no, I didn't mean it like that.”
Aran’s always been a good friend, to both you and Suna. From your high school days to the entire year you were barely seen in the public eye, he’s always been genuine and attentive. The conversation is natural, a nice distraction from the consistent thumping in both your head and heart. 
You congratulate him on his most recent win. He asks about your work. You tell him about a recent promotion and he manages to successfully tell you about his time in America without directly tying it back to Suna. You appreciate his earnest effort. 
That is, until he clears his throat into the crisp air. 
“He hasn't been with anyone since you,” Aran suddenly breathes. 
You don’t say anything, but he sees how your brow furrows at the sudden declaration.
“He didn't see anyone while he was away, in America,” he clarifies.
He watches your body stiffen at the realization of what he’s talking about. Drink in hand, your arms cross defensively across your chest. You’d attempt to play the pathetic action off as the cold weather if you cared. 
Your tone is a bit harsher than you’d like it to be when you respond. “It wouldn't have mattered if he did, we weren’t together.” 
Aren’t, you mentally correct yourself. We aren't together. It shouldn't matter, no matter the capacity. But with the way Aran’s watching you crumble like a leaf in the wind, both of you know that it does. It matters. 
“I mean—he tried, a few times,” he adds on, “but he couldn't go through with it.” 
Your heart sinks at the mere thought of Suna trying to get back out there, and you hate that you still feel this way because that was the whole point. The reason for the way everything went down the way it did is because you wanted Suna to explore all of his options before choosing you. So why does the mere insinuation of him doing the exact thing you told him to do make bile rise in your chest? 
You sniffle, hoping Aran dismisses it on the chilly breeze as you practically whimper, “Why are you telling me this?”
Aran smiles, but it doesn't meet his eyes. It drips of a melancholy coldness. “Because I think you deserve to know that even when he could’ve, he still didn't do anything.” 
His words grip you like a tight hug, almost constraining as they apply pressure to all the spots you'd numbed months ago. And he must feel it, too, because he decides that he’s said enough.
With a gentle hand placed on your shoulder, he makes his way back inside, but not before prefacing you with a foreboding, “I don't know if he’ll try and talk to you tonight, but if he does, just—think about hearing him out, alright?”
You swallow before nodding, “Sure, I’ll think about it.”
And once again, you're alone with your thoughts—but they're different this time. Less cruel and guilt-ridden, but more so clear and airy. 
You hear the door sliding open once more behind you, and your naivety assumes it’s Aran returning with another final word of wisdom. You’re turning around without a second thought. 
“Aran, I told you I’d–” 
Any blood not tainted by alcohol leaves your face as Rintaro now stands before you, taller than you remember, though you know it’s not even possible. His eyes still look right through your facade, his adam’s apple still prominent as he clears his throat awkwardly.
“Hi,” he bites first.
Your response is immediate, but far weaker, “Hi.” 
He joins you where you lean on the railing, practically shoulder to shoulder as the two of you stare at the dimming streetlights, sipping on drinks that suddenly don’t feel strong enough. 
“Congrats,” eventually falls from your lips, “on everything. You deserve it all.” 
“Thanks,” he returns, though you know it’s only to segue into what slips from his lips next. “You look great,” he lamely chokes out. 
Your response is immediate and cold, “You don't have to.”
“Don’t have to what?” Suna chokes out after a second of confusion. 
“Lie,” you breathe, eyes still focused on the street below. “I’ve looked like shit for the past year, I’m well aware.”
Within the entire mourning period of the breakup, you’ve barely taken care of yourself. You look unhealthy—sunken cheeks and dark circles and skin and bones and sadness. But Suna doesn't see it that way. 
Sure, you look different, but you always look different. You're always growing and changing one way or another. And while he might wish you looked like you got more sleep, that's for selfish reasons, not superficial ones. Your eyes still hold the same shape they did when he left you, your hands still smaller and cold. Your lips still the same mold against his, he hopes. 
“I always think you look beautiful,” he disagrees with a mere shrug, “you still look like you.”
You swallow back a whimper at his honest words, before clearing your throat and biting the bullet.
“Why’re you out here, Suna?”
The last name stings, but he chooses to ignore it for now. There are bigger issues at hand. 
He states the obvious, “It’s been a year. M’back from America.”
He watches you nod in agreement, “Yeah, I can see that.” 
“Do you remember what you said?”
Your throat closes at his words. 
“Rintaro—”
“I went,” his voice raises in desperation to get his point across, “and I had all the freedom in the world. Could’ve done whatever the fuck I wanted to. And I did, or I tried to, but I wouldn’t because it wasn’t with you.” 
“I know,” your pitch matches his, “that was the point. I wasn’t going to let you do something if you couldn’t do it properly.”
He shakes his head at your stupid reasoning, the same stupid reasoning that ruined everything in the first place. You were so sure that there was more out there for him, that he’d be swept off his feet by some American woman and forget you entirely. And because of his own fear, he was forced to go along with it and prove you wrong. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
“Well guess what?” he takes a sip of his bottle before swallowing harshly, “I did it, and it sucked, and now I'm back and nothing’s changed on my end.”
He takes a step closer to you, shaky hand raising in slow motion so you see it coming, so you have a chance to flinch or dodge or run, and you don’t. You let him rest it on your cheek, just like you did that night, and you let him tilt your jaw up to look at him properly for the first time in a year. 
“Now I know what it’s like to be with you and to be without you, and I still just fucking want you.”
You take a moment to admire him, just as beautiful as the day you’d left him. He’s porcelain and tangible and here for the first time in a—
“And it’s been a year,” he reminds you through a sad smile, “like you said.”
You let out a wet giggle through your shaky core, “It’s been eleven months.”
Rintaro groans as if he’s been punched in the gut, and the feeling of your laughter erupting even louder shoots what he assumes must feel like drugs straight to his heart. Ever so gently, he swipes a stray tear from your lash line. 
“Don't make me wait another month,” he begs, “please.” 
Rintaro thanks whatever deity might've listened to his endless prayers these past eleven months, because for the first time ever, you listen to him. Obey him without complaint as you let him press his lips to yours, and he’s overwhelmed with warmth at the realization that they do still mold against his all the same. 
“I love you,” he breathes in between breaks from your lips, “never stopped loving you.”
“I know,” you match his hunger, “I love you.”
Between overdue kisses and eager gazes to ensure that you are, indeed, real, Suna lets go of all of his regrets. 
“M’never letting that happen again,” he shakes his head at his own stupidity, “never letting you go again.”
“Okay,” you mindlessly nod into his hands. 
“Never letting you make a stupid decision like that for the both of us.”
“Sorry—”
“Never letting you look at me like that from across the room just to look away. I mean, what the fuck was that—” 
You shove him out of embarrassment and oh, it feels like love. “Okay, I get it,” you whine. 
And when the night passes in eventual hours that feel like mere seconds, ending up with you in Suna’s lap and everything under the moon being discussed, he’s brought back to reality as you begin to rise from his hold.
Rintaro instantly ushers you back on top of him, “Hey, hey, where d’you think you’re going?”
You comply with his gesture, but not without rolling your eyes. “Shouldn't we go back inside? They're gonna wonder where we are.” 
“Let ‘em,” his head is buried into your neck, a feathery kiss placed as he tightens his hold on you. “I just got you back, lemme hold onto you for a little longer.” 
+ bonus scene!
Between tipsy laughter and friendly competition, the party going on inside should be busy with a handful of different things. But the leading contender of entertainment for the group of friends seems to be partaking on the balcony. 
Too lost in one another, you’re grateful you don't see the tufts of red hair peeking out behind the curtain, hoping to catch a glimpse of the long-awaited reunion taking place. 
“It's working, I think it’s working!” Hinata beams, bouncing from window to window trying to get the best view.
“She’s on his lap,” Kita, who traveled a decent way to see this (oh, and for Atsumu, too), notes. “Do you think they’ve kissed yet?”
Speaking of the devil, Atsumu pushes his old captain aside as he drunkenly whines, “Aw, we missed it?”
The crowd of overgrown men bursts into childish chatter. 
“Don't be a fuckin’ creep.” 
“I didn’t mean it like that, you idiot.” 
“They’ve had to have kissed by now, we just weren’t paying attention.”  
“Yep, they're kissing!” Bokuto excitedly confirms, watching the two of you outside like a rom-com displayed on the silver screen. 
Osamu’s attention is finally sparked at this confirmation. 
“Oh thank god,” he impatiently shoves through the crowd to confirm the sight with his own eyes, and when he deems it to be true, he exhales a long overdue breath of relief. ‘‘That was the worst year of my life.” 
Aran tilts his head in confusion, “I thought it was only eleven months—”
“Eleven months too long.”
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lovingjingyuan · 1 month
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Young And Beautiful
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Jing Yuan♡
This GIF has me weak on my knees 🛐
Based on Lana Del Rey's songs! I love my husband so much I just wanna kiss under his eyes on that beautiful mole and then his lips.
Warning: bit possessive Jing Yuan at the end but overall sweet.
-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
You were a short-life species while Jing Yuan was a long life. You always felt insecure about aging. You were concerned about how you'll age to live with wrinkles head to toe and can't do anything with Jing Yuan anymore. You're scared he'll leave you for someone prettier and younger in appearance.
Jing Yuan always reassure you that you're beautiful and he loves you more than just your looks saying he'll be by your side forever.
"Will you still love me when I'm no longer Young And Beautiful?" You asked him with sadness and insecurities seeing the smile lines forming on your face.
He sighed bringing you on his lap kissing your forehead and played with the strands of hair running his hands through your hair and combing them with his fingers.
"More than anything. Don't worry I'll make sure you feel love darling," his voice was so soft and honest.
He brought you close and planted kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and lips.
"Matter of fact I can't live without you," he whispered so affectionately in your ears and each word he spoke are promises.
"If there's a Heaven. We'll live above the clouds together forever." He tells you while running his hand along your thighs to your hip and the other hand pressed against your back.
He always knew the best way to hold you, to comfort you and the hand placement. He made you feel like a princess. He treats you like his empress by the emperor's side.
Immortal or not he'll love you forever. And if there's reincarnation he'll wait because to him you're soulmates and no matter how much your appearance changes as long as the heart stays the same his love will never die out, so he'll cherish every moment with your short life span compared to his long life span.
But one secret is that he is having people work secretly to turn your short life span into an immortal like his. The old man Todd was able to get away with this turning himself from an old man to a young adult and then a child.
When Jing Yuan says he'll do anything for you he will. To the point, he's breaking a law for you. The one law that is super sinful to the Xianzhou, yet he needs you by his side. His one and only. No heaven for both you and him soon and no need to worry about being Young and beautiful any longer once he turns you into a long-life species like him.
Because aren't you two soulmates and he needs only you by his side and no one else. The only time he's grateful to the abundance even if it's illegal to give even the slightest amount of admiration towards the abundance. He's secretly sending out blessings to Yaoshi in hopes they can grant you immortality like him also sending extra so they don't inflict you with mara.
You'll forever be Young and Beautiful with him. He'll cherish every moment with you like it's his last. He'll embrace you every day in his arms and kiss you every night before bed.
-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven Please let me bring my man.
Please I need him so bad. Since I already have him so I'm gonna get his lightcone and max him to c6. Have 122 pulls waiting for my husband <3
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darkworkcourier · 1 year
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I was wondering, could you write Ghost x fem!reader hand to hand combat training that leads to them making out
YES'M COMING RIGHT UP
reader doesn't have a nickname or any identifying features other than, idk, having hair i guess? also no real warnings except for making out and some suggestive stuff. y'know, promises on the horizon. 👀 i didn't want to go much further in case all you wanted was just makeouts.
---
"No. Hands here. Right. Just about level with your chest."
It's hard to focus with Ghost's hands on your wrists, guiding you into a stance that feels off. You're accustomed to one particular style of defense, and he shifts you into another that makes your muscles ache.
You furrow your brow. "Is it supposed to feel like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like I'm about to throw my rotator cuff out?"
He shrugs, resuming his original stance—one where his hands are lower, parallel to his waist, arms spread like he's going to hug you. "Just means you're using muscles you're not accustomed to exercising," he replies.
"You saying I don't exercise?" you joke.
"Just hold your hands there."
You do, and he gives you about two seconds of warning before he comes at you.
Going up against Ghost in hand-to-hand combat is terrifying. There's no other word for it, no way to describe it outside of using terms like 'pants-shittingly scary'. He's a wall of muscle garbed in black, mask cementing the vision of a very buff Grim Reaper launching himself at you, dragging you into death in some judo move. You're still not accustomed to it, even this many months into your assignment with the 141. The second he moves, that fight or flight instinct screams flee, idiot! and you flinch.
He stops before touching you, sighing like an overburdened elementary school teacher. "You did it again," he says.
You fall out of the stance and raise your hands helplessly. "What do you expect me to do? You ever see yourself in a mirror?"
He ignores that latter question. "I expect you to defend yourself," he replies. "You're gonna meet people far bigger than me out there."
Doubt it, you think. You don't need to remind him that you have gone into the field before, and that you earned your place in the 141 through skill and tenacity. However, at this point, you still haven't seen someone like Ghost out there.
"Okay," you say, rallying yourself and raising your hands again. "I got this. Big, scary dude coming at me. No problem."
You think he raises a brow at you. Not something you can see, but you feel it. "You sure?"
"Yeah. Yep. Totally good."
Ghost goes back into the first pose with his arms out. He hunkers down, looming at the edge of the mat like a very large specter of the imminent end, and yet all you can think is can you use those arms for something else, please.
Which is why you miss the two second warning, and promptly get knocked off your feet by a skeleton-garbed missile of a man.
Because it turns out that he only corrected your stance from the waist up, and you completely forgot what to do with your legs. You didn't brace, didn't set your feet shoulder-width apart to lower your center of gravity and make you more solid. That, and Ghost has such a size advantage of you that it feels a hell of a lot like someone shooting a grenade launcher at a lawn chair.
All to say, you topple and hit the mat hard. Air whuffs out of your lungs, compressed under the sheer weight of Ghost. Sparks dance in your vision for one hot second before you come back to yourself, registering aches in brand new places and the feeling of one of Ghost's (impressively beefy) thighs between your legs.
Unfortunately, robbed of all oxygen, all you manage to eke out is a sad wheeze.
"Fuck," Ghost groans. He manages to hoist himself up on his forearms, lifting the stone weight off your chest so you're not getting compressed like a panini. "Ugh. You okay?"
It takes an embarrassingly long time to get your breath back, and a moment longer to work around the ache in your ribs from having a bulldozer of a man on your chest—not even in a sexy way. "Yeaaahhh," you force out, gritting your teeth and blinking away the last jittery sparkles in your vision. "Gimme a second."
He does, but you register that he's not getting off of you. In fact, he's holding pretty damn steady and not doing something in the name of good teamwork like, say, standing up and helping you off the mat, or asking if you need medical assistance, or making fun of you. Instead, he's most definitely staying quiet, and when you look at him, you suddenly feel pinned anew.
Because he's staring, and it's made so much more intense by the greasepaint around his eyes, drawing out his dark eyes by contrast. You feel his gaze like added weight, and it keeps you still, unable to scoot out from under him even though he's given you room to do so.
Your breathing's back online, but it's not steady, and your mouth is very, very dry.
"Um," is all you can say, and you're proud of yourself for getting that much out.
His eyes flick down, watching your mouth move. They widen when you lick your bottom lip to give it some reprieve.
There's no training for to do in this situation.
And there's certainly no training for— for lifting up his damn mask and revealing a mouth that you're pretty sure you've had wet dreams about. Plush lips, faint silvery scars, fine stubble. God damn, and he was keeping this a secret.
"Ghost," you try again, searching for anything to say. Any word, any question, any kind of affirmation that can give you a litmus test on what the hell is going on here.
Rather than explaining himself, his eyes find yours again and he says—in the lowest of low rumbling voices, "Is this okay?"
How do you say yes or, perhaps, fuck yes without sounding desperate? It's like he reached into your head and plucked out those fantasies you've kept under lock and key since you joined on and saw him for the first time. Hell, you're not totally sure this isn't one of those dreams right now.
So you nod. Just two quick jerks of the head, fabric on the mat definitely fucking up your hair. You can hear the static next to your ear, but you could care less.
Because once Ghost's lips are on yours, nothing matters.
He's so warm, lips deceptively soft (what did you think, they were going to be as calloused as his fingers?), the tang of sweat on his skin, his forearms bracketing you. He's in every direction, kissing you and siphoning out the air again, leaving you gasping when he pulls back.
One breath.
Two.
And he kisses you again, like a confirmation that yes, this is very real and it's happening to you. He didn't trip and fall and kiss you on the way down. His right arm comes up so his fingers brush against your cheek, and then he cups the side of your face with his enormous palm. You open your mouth against his, tasting him, hearing his heavy breathing in tandem with your own.
At the same time, your mind rushes to make all the connections to figure out how you got here, how Ghost is on top of you when he's supposed to be teaching you how to defend yourself. How—
How you missed all of those signals.
Too-long glances at meetings; hands brushing yours when he passed you documents, ammo, rations, a radio; the way he kept close to your six so it was never undefended; every nickname from him teeming with a little more whimsy than you thought him capable of. Never once did you stop and consider if that was how he treated everyone in the 141, or if that was saved for you.
You never asked the question, but you're sure as hell getting an answer.
His tongue brushes against yours, sealed between your lips, teasing whines out of you. He hums in satisfaction, or possibly pleasure; vaguely, you wonder if he's wanted this just as badly, or if this is a spur of the moment decision and he's enjoying the payoff. Regardless, you can't ignore the slight pressure of his thigh between your legs, riding up higher and higher until—
Until you get an incredibly stupid idea.
He doesn't get a two second warning. What he gets is your arms around his back—the hug you wanted and now he gets—and the sudden upward jerk of motion that sends him flailing backwards. In a move you had no idea you were capable of, he's now on his back, mask still riding up to his nose, eyes wide, expression damn near cartoonish.
"Wh—" is all he gets out before you're kissing him.
You're the one bracketing his hips with your thighs. You're the one pinning him down and making him breathless. And, damnit, once you pull back enough to get a look at his face, you're the one getting him to look up at you like he's seeing you for the first time.
You grin, leaning in close and whispering, "Is it supposed to feel like this?"
He licks his lips, and your eyes trace the trail of his tongue. "Like what?" he asks, quieter now than you've ever heard him.
Your answer is another firm kiss, the ache in your muscles shifting course and alchemizing into something far hotter, liquid heat settling between you. And you pull back one more time, dropping your head so your lips brush his ear. You swear you feel him shudder.
"I think we have a few more forms to go through," you say.
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courtingchaos · 9 months
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House Party
Steve Harrington x Fem Reader
Summary: See, you and Steve go to this really lame party, right? And you both wanna ditch it, right? And he’s got that really nice car, right?
A/N: Hey Tumblr, have my first foray into writing Steve. I intend to write him more, this was me getting me feet wet. Among other things….
Warnings: Sex, voyeurism, language, a little tiny teeny bit of dacryphilia.
NSFW 18+ No Minors Allowed
This party is lame, and you both know it. Steve had taken you only because you’d asked to go but as soon as you two had stepped over the threshold it was apparent this was a bunch of try-hards.
“Do you wanna get out of here?” It’s spoken against your ear, a hush of hot breath that’s tinted with cheap beer. You barely have to turn your head to catch his eye. His stare is heavy, loaded with his unasked question.
“It does kinda suck.” You hush back at him, your half empty cup bouncing against your fingers. “Sorry, I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known.”
“Hey, it’s not a big deal.” He brings a hand up to run a long finger down the line of your nose lightly. “I just figure, I don’t know…” He gives you an exaggerated shrug.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“No, but it could if we got out of here.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest.
“Steve.”
“What?! You don’t want to be here either and I have like, two other ideas that are so much better than…whatever the hell this sad gathering is.” He casts a look around at everyone before his eyes land back on you. He’s letting his annoyance out, not schooling his face in the least bit and you can’t help but grin at him and his effortless disgust. Instead of saying anything you just grab his cup and set both drinks down before silently gesturing to the front door.
“Oh seriously?” He changes his tune quick when he realizes you’re indulging him. Really you’re indulging both of you, but you can let him think he won you over.
Steve makes a quick exit, doesn’t even bother pretending to say goodbye or giving you a moment to say anything. He drags you out of the house while you laugh at his eagerness. Weaving through the parked cars to get to his beemer you get a great view of his ass, poured into his stonewashed Levi’s and can’t help but catch up enough to sneak your hand into his back pocket and pinch him.
“Hey!” He shoots over his shoulder but doesn’t bat your hand away. You do it again and he laughs. “Just wait.” A simple warning that you won’t heed. What’s the worst he’s gonna do, eat you out in the back of his car at the lake?
Okay, and?
You laugh to yourself and Steve pulls you a little harder when he spots his car.
“I’m serious.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He stops at the back passenger door to open it for you, but he’s not smiling his normal. Where that goofy sunshine typically is he’s showing teeth under a smirk. That gives you pause but just long enough for him to gesture into his car for you to get in.
“You’re letting all the bugs in, honey.”
You barely get your legs in before he’s shutting the door and walking around to the driver side, sliding in quick. He looks at you in the rear view. “Can you roll that down?” He points at the window on your left.
“Oh, to let the bugs in?” You joke at him. He doesn’t laugh but he does smile at you, more smirk when you roll it halfway down anyways.
“Maybe.”
“What are you up to?” You ask him, leaning forward to wind your finger in the hair brushing his collar.
“Why don’t you get comfortable.” He won’t acknowledge your question, just keeps glancing in the mirror to watch you staring at the side of his head.
“You gonna take me out to the lake?” He starts his car and lets it run for minute while you toy around with his hair, running your finger over the shell of his ear. “Oh, maybe the quarry? That’d be a nice change of pace.” You’re poking a little, trying to get a rise out of him so maybe he’ll tell you his plan. Instead he just props his elbow up on the center console and lays his palm back.
“Give ‘em to me.” He’s pulled off and started driving slowly.
“Give you what?” You lean back to give him a confused look.
He makes a grabby hand at you. “Panties.”
“What.”
“You heard me. Hand them over.” He won’t look at you, diligent driver keeping his eyes on the dead roads of this sprawling neighborhood.
“Are you gonna be a creep and sniff ‘em or something?” Even though your sarcasm bleeds through your words you’re still bunching up your dress to hook your fingers into the waistband to pull them down. “What if I wasn’t wearing any?”
“Then I’d ask for your bra.” He still won’t look at you. Doesn’t even flinch when the body warm silk hits his hand, just scrunches up the fabric and folds his arm down onto his knee.
“Steve?” You singsong from the back seat. He grunts, waiting for your snappy one liner. Instead he sees your bare foot, now shed of its slip on nightmare, sliding over the back of the passenger seat in his peripheral. He glances up then and sucks in a breath that turns into a deep chuckle.
“Oh you wanna play like that?” He misses your nod, the way you bite down on your lip and make doe eyes at him. He’s stuck on your hand running lazy lines up and down your pussy, dipping down to gather up the slick drooling out of you. “Okay.”
You aren’t paying attention to anything except your hand and the back of Steve’s head. Any little glance he shoots you in the mirror, any little twitch of his shoulders. You haven’t noticed him making a big circle back to the house you’d just left and back into the gaggle of parked cars. You barely even register he’s stopped the car until he’s curving his broad shoulders up and over between the front seats, crowding your bared thighs up against your body.
“You’re sick of the lake, I get it.” He says and you can still smell the beer on his breath. It makes your breathing pick up until he runs his big hands up the back of your thighs and your heart races. When he hits the back of your knees he pushes your legs out to make room for him so he can crouch on the floorboard.
“Steve you can’t be comfor-oh!”
He wastes no time running the flat of his tongue over your center. Your head falls against the back dash, rolling between the headrest when he flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit making you gasp into the window. He grabs your left hand and makes you hold your leg behind the knee. The little slip of your leg forward has him taking his mouth off of you and you whine.
“Hold your leg or I’m gonna let this whole party know what you’re doing back here.”
“Wh-“ You pick your head up and look out the partially rolled down window. Parked across from the house party, between street lamps. There’s a few people milling around out front and some around the cars and all of them are far too close. Steve sees you’re distracted for a moment and decides to sink two fingers in when he starts mouthing at your pussy again. The yelp you let out causes the two people closest to the car to look over but they don’t move.
“Keep your leg up.” Steve says from between your thighs, fingers working up their pace. Your mouth drops open and all you can do is nod at him the way he’s nodding at you, that smirk still on his face. The wet sound of his fingers curling inside of you make you groan and he mocks you as nicely as he can.
“Aw, that’s good huh?”
“Steve.”
“What’s that?” His thumb rubs down firmly on your clit while his mouth leaves a wet trail on your inner thigh, the occasional bite into the soft flesh making you jump and whimper. When your grip starts to slip again he ‘tsk’s’ at you.
“What’d I say?” He warns just as he picks up the pace of his hand, pumping his fingers faster. He dips his head again to lap at your folds before zeroing in on your clit, sucking hard and flicking his tongue. Your eyes roll back on a deep groan and there’s no way the people on the front lawn didn’t hear it. Steve laughs against you and lets you get a few more loud sounds out before he takes pity on you. Dropping your leg on his shoulder he works his free hand up and stuffs the ball of silk in your open mouth, stifling the long groan of his name quickly.
“Here, I’ll help you out. See if you can stay quiet with these.” He can feel you clenching down on his fingers when he clamps his palm over your mouth. “You like it when I shove things in your mouth?” The vibrations under his hand tell him all he needs to know. Between his tongue and his thumb he gets you teetering on the edge, your thighs shaking around his head.
“Gotta keep your leg up or I’m not gonna let you cum.” Your wide eyes make him laugh. Behind him you try to point your toes to help keep your leg braced but he notices, of course.
“No cheating.” He gives your inner thigh a love tap. From his vantage point he can see the strain you’re under, your knuckles white and grasping at your slick flesh and suddenly his jeans are just too tight, his own strain unbearable.
“Is it too much honey?” Steve sits up as best he can to keep his hand over your mouth and his fingers in your cunt. You make a desperate sound and he decides to cut you some slack. “Just nod yes, I promise it’ll be worth it.” He unfolds himself from the floor, pushes his broad body into yours until you don’t need to hold your leg anymore. You’re nodding yes yes yes as he moves you over and down, fingers still curling up into that sweet spot. He drags the hand down from your face to the top of your dress and pulls it so he can get at your chest.
“Be a doll, get my belt?” He asks breathlessly.
It’s like you forgot you had hands you could use. There’s a pause for you to think about what he’s asking before you dive down and undo the buckle and attack his jeans. You barely get the waistband of his boxers down before your release creeps up fast. Your hand curled around his thick length when his fingers hit you just right and you go motionless for a moment before you melt into his backseat, chest heaving and trying to breathe around the underwear in your mouth.
He’s slapped your hand out of the way so he can shimmy his pants down enough, cock heavy in his grip when he slides himself over you to prod at your sensitive clit. “Come on honey, tell me. Want me to fuck you?”
You groan around the fabric and nod.
“In front of all these people?” He nudges your hole, can feel you fluttering at the barest push, has to hold himself back from sinking right into you. You keep nodding, fingers grabbing at his polo and trying to lace into the few locks of hair dangling in his face. You want him nearer, you want him inside, you want him to kiss you or fuck you, anything but run his mouth at you.
“Roll the window down.” He’s waiting, cock in hand, smirking at your indignation. “They deserve to hear you loud and clear.” You’ve been moved so you’re laying in your back, angled so you have to bend awkward to turn the handle. But Steve is doing his thing where he’ll wait you out, make himself wait and you wait and the whole universe wait until you do what he asked.
You make a noise that sounds like a question and he just laughs before you roll your eyes and stretch your arm back to turn it. You get the handle turned once before he’s gripping you to keep you in place so he can sink in slow.
“Oh fuck. Baby, so wet for me.” His eyes roll back while you preen under him. Watching his mouth fall open and his hips twitch forward. He takes his time getting fully seated, pulling your leg around his waist so he can get as deep as possible.
When his cock nudges deep inside you let out a deep grunt and when he finally rolls his hips you keen around your underwear.
“God you really can’t keep quiet can you?” Steve asks before bracing his hands on your knees so he can drive into you. The cramped angle your at, head shoved into the door and knees slowly sinking up to your chest has you making little pathetic noises that Steve laughs breathily at.
“You like that?”
Your grip on the lever for the window loosens and a muffled ‘yes’ comes from you.
“‘Course you do, all these people around.” He’s not taking it easy on you. “Want them to know who’s fuckin’ you?” You’re sensitive and when he drives deep it makes your eyes water and your chest rattle with deep grunts. If these people can’t hear you they’re definitely getting a show. Steve doesn’t duck under the level of the windows and your hands grip along the edge, fingernails scratching at the burgundy paint outside.
“You cryin’ about it?” He asks when an errant tear falls away and down your temple. “Dick that good?” All you can do is nod at him while he pushes your knees further back so he can get a better view of you taking him.
“Never gets old, pretty all over, honey.” He pants, letting a hand drop between you two so he can rub tight circles clit. It makes your legs jump around his hips and his laugh is all breath blown over your heated skin. “You gonna cum again? Come on, show me how good it feels.” His deft fingers don’t let up just like his rolling hips don’t let up just like his filthy mouth doesn’t let up. He coaxes you right up to the edge again and doesn’t pause his hand when you spasm around him, teeth bared around your underwear. “Oh I know, I know it’s good.” He keeps going even when you hiss and pull your legs together instinctively and he groans, long and low when you clench down on him.
“Shit, keep that up your gonna make me cum-“
Through the ringing in your ears you hear the whimper on the end of his words. Your hands find his shirt to pull him down close and he ends up rutting into you while you continue clenching and he’s quickly following you. A faltering of his hips and you feel him twitch inside, spilling hot and fast. He tries to kiss you but forgets about your full mouth and ends up dotting the corner of your mouth and cheek while he comes down.
His full weight isn’t on you but he’s still heavy and unmoving for a few minutes while you both cool off. In the distance there’s a long wolf whistle and someone clapping and Steve groans into your ear before picking his head up to look at you. He pulls a corner of the fabric to unspool it from your mouth, flinging the damp bunch onto the floorboard.
“Please don’t forget those in here.” You rasp, mouth dry while he kisses you between words.
“Yeah that’s the last thing I need, fucking Henderson finding those.” Both of you groan then, picturing explaining it to his shitty little grinning face. Steve sits up first and gets situated before he helps you sit up against the door, looping his arm behind you to roll the window up jerkily. You watch him dazedly, a smitten grin plastered to your cheeks.
“What are you grinnin’ at?” He mumbles while he pulls your dress down from your hips.
“You. That was fun.”
“You like an audience?” He raises a cocky eyebrow and you push his shoulder back.
“No…” Your eyes trail down the long line of his nose. “Maybe. It was thrilling.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it now?” He kisses you up against the window for a few minutes before climbing back over to the front seat, patting the passenger seat once he’s situated. When you don’t move right off he shoots a look at you through the rear view. “You coming up?”
“Uh, well I might be making more of a mess if I do.” You glance down at the crumpled pile of your underwear on the floor and think about him not pulling out.
“Mm. Well, if you come up here maybe I’ll take you out to quarry and help you clean up, yeah?” He says nonchalantly. Adjusts his seat and his jeans, puts his seatbelt on and turns the key in the ignition and turns to stare at you over his shoulder.
“Do I just need to take you to more lame parties to get this treatment?” You ask while you try to wiggle up to the front seat with some kind of modesty. Steve just watches while you fall into the seat finally and chuckles before grabbing your knee.
“Care to test that theory?”
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nimmie-nugget · 7 months
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~Hantengu Clones x Disgust Clone Reader~
Reminder: drink water and eat a full meal! Turn on dark mode if it’s currently night where you live~ wouldn’t want ya eyes to hurt right?~ —go to your profile and press the icon that’s on the VERY right, then click “General Settings” and scroll down a bit till you see “Color Palette” and there should be a few options for ya there!—
Warnings: ooc, not proofread, your not gonna like Karaku’s part, you might shit your pants
Note: I’ve had this in my mind for quite a long time!!! Google better be right for the kanji’s I have next to the clone’s names or Istg- This doesn’t mean I won’t stop doing Tokito twins content tho! I’ve been posting some other things instead of Tokito content so i just wanted to reassure~ don’t worry Tokito enthusiastic’s! Your emotion is disgust and your color is a mix of Yellow and Green~ Platonic ofc or else self love has a new meaning💀 Enjoy <3
Masterlist+Introduction
Masterlist
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Sekido 怒
You CANNOT come to me and tell me this is not toxic. 💀🖕
Both of you argue the most out of the clones
There was a time your argument got WAY out of hand ‘n both of you started using your BDA like crazy!
Your always pointing out his lil flaws
Tho Sekido’s clothes are more tolerable.
You tease him but not as much as Karaku
Long story short both of you want each other to die 😣
“Why not you fix your hair before you start talking?”
“WE HAVE THE SAME HAIRSTYLE YOU BRAT!”
These two lines kinda giving sibling energy- 👆
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Karaku 愉
Your grossed out by the fact he doesn’t wear proper clothing.
Just one touch and you go
“AHHHH!!! THIS IS UTTERLY DISGUSTING!”
Teases you A LOT. You and Sekido most likely teamed up once just to get him to shut up 😬
I think he just considers you a whore at this point-
Considering you always look at his abs ‘n shit but your just trynna tell him to wear some clothes in the most judging way possible 😭
How did he even miss that gaze full of disgust!? HECK it’s your emotion-
“I know you like this Y/n~” he says as he licks his hand. Bro’s a cat fr💀
You gave him the most disgusted look ever that day.
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Urogi 幸
He’s too much for you to handle-
Your losing your sanity yeah tots like you didn’t lose it years ago😃
Let’s just say your BDA is to be able to mind control-
The moment he uses his BDA you instantly use your BDA on him if your near.
Tho despite you literally being disgusted of him in every single way, you still hold some respect for him.
“A,IS)EJWAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” *Activated BDA*
You groan as you activate your BDA “I don’t have time for this! And keep ya mouth shut would ya?! Your voice is disgusting.”
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Aizetsu 愁
You must admit he is quite tolerable then the other clones but that’s what makes it more disgusting.
You two have a pretty decent relationship.
Tho his outfit…it’s disgusting.
You don’t really hold…much disgust towards him???
Tho it’s just probably because he doesn’t annoy you much as the other clones.
OH YOU WERE VERY WRONG 😨
Your the only clone who doesn’t tease him or act serious.
That’s the explanation to him latching to your arm 24/7 👆💀
“UGHHH!!! GET OFF ME! YOUR FUCKING HEAVY!” You yelled.
“…Y/n don’t yell…that makes me sad…” he said clutching onto his staff
“This disgusts me. You disgust me.”
Yep, ya had to use your BDA to get him off.
But why ya gotta be so mean!!? >:(
But hey! Aizetsu’s confirmed to be a cat 😼
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Zohakuten 憎
Let’s just say ALL of the clones are in a black void when Hantengu is in control 😶
Never though I’d say this but this relationship is WAY more toxic then yours with Sekido 😰
Your always commenting on how disgusting he is.
Roast him like a Roblox kid 😎
Tho you won’t be getting away just easily.
Considering he’s the STRONGEST of the clones you’ll def be beat to pieces 😭
“Ngh!…is that all you got? Your unreliable dragons can’t do shit to me! Utterly disgusting.” You say with a grin.
Hell you faced so many tortures that day- tho what scared ya the most was the fact that your regeneration slowed down 😰
Like- HOW!?!?
You swore to never go overboard with HIM ever again 🫡
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aphrogeneias · 4 months
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It had become a tradition at that point.
You'd always come to wish your boyfriend luck before the boys get to Hellfire — that is, after your character was brutally killed in combat and you refused to return, arguing that it was an unfair roll and if you continued playing his insane campaigns, you'd end up breaking up with him.
An exaggeration, probably. Definitely.
After a couple of days of silent treatment and a lot of apologies, dramatic speeches and sad brown eyes you could not resist, you had agreed to sit this one out and watch from the sidelines when you could.
Eddie wouldn't let you give him one, singular, good luck kiss, though.
It wasn't like you didn't know that, but you'd always say you couldn't stay long, that you were late for something else, and to be fair, you usually were, but he was worth arriving a little late for.
The fact was that you liked to hear him beg for you. You liked watching him pout and ask you for "just one more, please" as he pulled you closer and closer, hands sliding from your arms to your waist until you found yourself sitting on his lap, letting yourself go in his kisses.
It was easy to forget the world around you with Eddie's arms keeping you in place, his lips branding your heated skin, hands exploring under your clothes. Teasing, brushing, squeezing at all the right places. Magic hands of a magic man.
"Your friends are gonna be here any minute…" You breathed out, pulling away from his lips and grabbing the hand that was under your shirt, the cold sting of his rings raising goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushed the underside of your bra before letting go, but he didn't take his eyes out of your lips. "Eddie…"
"I'm just trying to get a little taste before you leave for that stupid game."
"You're just trying to get in my pants." Playfully, you grabbed his face and made him look up. Eddie smirked, brown eyes gleaming in the low light.
"Can you blame me for that?" He surged forward, leaving a kiss on your neck, resting his hand on your thigh, keeping you in place as you sat sideways on top of his.
"I'm sure you're gonna have more fun with me than torturing your party members with your sadistic storytelling," a sigh escaped your lips as he continued to drag his mouth over the sensitive skin of your neck, his tongue making you lose your train of thought for a moment, "but you'll have to wait."
With a gentle pull of his shaggy hair, Eddie finally resigned. You knew that face could taunt you into doing whatever he wanted, to lock the door and let him have his way, but you had other, better plans. "I promise I'll make it up to you."
He hummed. "I like that."
With a brief kiss to your lips, he fully pulled away, just as you heard the boys coming into the room, excitedly chatting about their plans for tonight.
"You guys are gross. Please, get a goddamn room." One of them said, but you were too busy stealing one last kiss from your smiling boyfriend.
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saetoru · 2 years
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𝟒:𝟓𝟏 𝐀𝐌 | ���𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔.
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satoru looks happy—the real kind. the kind where his lips are curved into a soft, giddy grin and not his usual smirk. the kind where his blindfold is pushed down to hang around his neck so you can see the little gleam in his eyes. the kind that makes him cradle a newborn in his arms and rock her gently as he kisses her temple every few moments.
“she has your eyes,” he says quietly, tracing over the soft skin of your daughter’s cheek with his thumb. his hand looks rather big compared to her tiny face, and you’re almost certain it’s hearts he’s tracing with each rounded motion.
“i know,” you murmur, watching relief dance around the corners of his expression.
“thank god,” he chuckles—and if there’s a wobble to his voice, you don’t point out. “she looks like me though. ‘s why she’s so cute.”
and normally, maybe you’d indulge him in a halfhearted argument, maybe you’d scowl and tell him to keep quiet for once, but satoru is happy. and it’s not just a thin blanket with tattered rips at the seams meant to cover the weight clung to his shoulders.
it’s real, and it’s woven seamlessly into the crinkles of his eyes.
“it’s our job as parents to think she’s cute,” you snort, “but she’s definitely the cutest baby i’ve had the pleasure of seeing,” you add with a little bit of pride in your voice.
“of course she is. she’s my baby,” he coos as he stares down at her, gently pinching her cheek. she stares up at him, comically small against his strong arms and broad chest, and when a tiny hand grasps around his finger, you pretend once more that his eyes aren’t wet and glossy.
“actually, she’s our baby,” you correct, glaring at him.
“you must be really sad you’re not my only baby anymore,” he snickers, looking at you with his usual smug grin. but there’s something on the edge of grateful and awestruck that’s in his eyes—and you think he stares at you like you’ve handed him a ray of light you plucked from the sun’s core, gently pressing the warmth to his palms and soothing over the cold and dry cracks on the skin.
satoru’s hands have mapped every inch of you, they pinprick the expanse of your skin with love that seeps from his fingertips in a steady stream. and they’re rough hands—they’re callused and sometimes they’ve got busted knuckles, but they’re gentle enough to create extensions of your love, and they’re gentle enough to carry the weight of a life and then some.
“news flash for you,” you stick your tongue out, “you’re not my only baby anymore either. and i pick favorites, by the way.”
“is it me? am i your favorite?” he asks with a bat of his lashes. you roll your eyes, softening them as they watch his breath hitch when the little bundle in his arms yawns slowly.
“no. you’ll never be my favorite,” you tease, and he pouts, hugging your daughter closer as he snuggles his cheek against hers. “she’s my favorite.”
“only a few hours in and she’s already causing heartbreak,” he mumbles, “she’s gonna be trouble.”
“like you,” you remind, and he grins, raw and free and all kinds of gleeful. you wonder if satoru’s ever been this content in a long time, and you think you have your answer when he sighs gently and shifts to lean back in his chair. “i think it’s my turn to hold—”
“just a bit longer,” he pleads, still staring down at her as he pokes at the tip of her nose. his thumb traces over her lips, smooths a few strands of thin white hair across her forehead, tucks her blanket higher up her chin. he doesn’t know what part of her is his favorite—so he settles on all of it. “she’s gonna miss me and cry if i give her to you, i’m a ladies man.”
“you’re a single man too, pretty soon,” you say dryly, but then his hand reaches for yours, silently begging for your touch to remind him that he can have her and he can have you—that one thing isn’t ripped from him to make room for the other.
so you reach back, let the cracks of his hands find shelter in the warmness of yours, let him speak all the words he can’t always admit through a small squeeze as he lets out a shaky breath.
“careful,” he hums, “people are really into dilfs. i’ll get snatched up pretty quickly if i’m back on the market.”
“they’ll send you right back when they realize you can barely change a diaper,” you snort, and then he squeezes your hand again, still rocking the small body in his arm as he chuckles quietly.
and satoru looks happy—the real kind.
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treasuringizu · 1 year
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- 𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝗺
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you twist in the bed, mouth opening in a yawn while you pull the covers up to your chin, wrapping yourself into your burrito. you can vaguely hear the sounds of what you know is izuku getting ready for the day in the background of the bedroom, drawers opening and closing, the soft thumps of fabrics in the closet.
he always leaves the blinds closed for you to shut out the sunlight and the lights off, no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t need to get ready in the dark just for your sake. he blushed furiously when you mentioned to him you can still hear when he stubs his toe or bangs his leg against something and tries, unsuccessfully, to muffle his yelps. he’s too sweet.
so now, you’re blinking sleepily into the darkness, barely registering izuku approaching you in bed, all ready in his hero suit for his early morning patrol today.
you’re still trying to come to life when he stops right in front of where you lay on your side of the bed, bending down onto one knee so that he’s eye level with you, resting his forearms on the bedding. he doesn’t crowd you, watching with a content smile on his face as you finally focus on him. “good morning, angel.”
“mmm.” you scoot closer to him, “‘morning, izu.”
he doesn’t respond, just staring at you while you stare back, making out his curly hair, still damp from his shower, and faintly following the light freckles littered across his face with your eyes. izuku’s gaze bounces from your nose to your lips — where a smile is growing the more you look at him looking at you — and back to meet your stare.
and then he moves in, bringing his face close enough to yours to the point you can feel his minty breath puff against your cheek, and you sit up a bit. “i gotta go,” he says, his voice a whisper, somber.
“i know.” you whisper back.
he frowns, the one where his lips turn into a pout, his eyes heavy and intense. “i’ll miss you.”
you laugh, although you’re a bit sad too. his clinginess has rubbed off on you. “i’ll see you for lunch.” he doesn’t answer, and so you lean in and he complies, automatically dipping his head to plant a kiss on your lips, another, and then one more, his hand rising to cup your cheek. his exhale hits the top of your lip as you separate, and his forehead knocks against yours. “you wont be without me for long, izuku.”
“long is any second i’m not with you.”
you let him bask for a few minutes, feeling sleep crawl at you once again as you close your eyes and treasure this moment you have with him this morning.
but then you both hear the alert from his phone, his five minute warning for his patrol shift, successfully disrupting the stillness.
sighing, you detach your foreheads and remove your arm from where it was resting, reaching a hand up to smooth the frown in between his brows. “you’re gonna be late.”
“…okay.” izuku moves like he’s going to pull away, but then he leans in once more for another kiss before he drags himself up from his knee. you watch as he goes, fixing up his suit and grabbing the last things he needs. he pauses at the door, giving you one last look over.
“i love you.”
you smile, “love you too.”
and then he shuts the door, leaving you in the stillness of the dark bedroom that now feels a little bit too empty.
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ldrmoment · 4 months
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// say yes to heaven //
johnny knoxville x reader
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authors note: Johnny goes by PJ, some things might be innacurate apologies in advance, mentions of homophobic slurs (i can say it)
❥༄ It's a warm july evening, the sunset sky looks like cotton candy, the kids are still out playing, and me and pj are on the steps of his trailer drinking some cold beers. i've known pj ever since me n my mom first moved to Tennesse at age 5. i ponder back on that moment, the memory still fresh in my mind.
❥༄ "y/n! get your boxes from the back of the uhaul girl!" my mother shouted. i sighed and made my way from the empty field to the back of the van we came in while my mother put her belongings inside our new home. a boy around my age with dark chocolate hair, warm brown eyes, and a horrendous haircut came up to me. "are you my new neighbors?" he asked enthusiastically. i nodded shyly. "cool! i'm pj by the way. my trailers right there." i glanced over to where he was pointing. i noticed a brown trailer with white stripes, white steps, and various beer cans and cigarette butts littering the patch of grass in front. i turned back to him and introduced myself back. "my names y/n. my parents divorced so we moved here." "mine are divorced too! wanna be friends?" we've been inseparable ever since.
❥༄ i set down my can with a sigh and put my hands in my hair. i've lived in the same trailer ever since, things never really got better for me and my mom. i started working at the local jcpennys working the beauty department but that's it, and Pjs been working with his dad at his auto repair shop ever since we were 13. pj turned to look at me, his brows furrowed and his eyes fixated on me. "what's troublin' you doll?" i picked my head up with a sad smile. i loved when he called me that. "whens it gonna get better peej?" i let out a dry chuckle. "i mean are we just gonna stay in this town our whole lives? living pay check to pay check?" he huffed and turned away from me. "i don't know y/n...why are you bringing this up?" "because i don't want that to be my life pj. maybe it was good for our parents but...don't you want different?" he took another sip from his can and a long drag from his cigarette and was quiet for a while. "of course i want different but it's not that simple y/n...plus the world needs workers like us and our parents anyway." i couldnt belive what he was saying. it was so out of character for him. he was never one to conform to society despite us growing up in the south where you'd get called a fag for just about anything. but people didn't care when it came to pj. he could be wearing a tutu and still look cool. that's why i didn't understand why he was giving up his future to stay in a town like this when the world had so much more to offer him, to offer us. "you know, i don't get you sometimes pj." i threw my can on the porch and sat up. "when are you gonna wake up y/n?" he shouted at me. i looked at him wint utter confusion painted on my face. he stared back at me with those piercing dark eyes. anytime i looked into them, it was like i was stuck in place, and like the rest of the world was no more, just me and pj. "w-what do you mean?" i spoke. he scoffed at me and continued, still shouting. "do you think it's that easy? that we can just leave this all behind and start a new life like that?" i huffed in frustration and crossed my arms, "that's not what i meant and you know it. i just meant that we both have dreams pj. what about your writing?" he turned away from me and shook his head, his eyes were even darker now due to his mood. i noticed there were imprints on his can due to his grip on it. "what about my writing y/n? you heard my dad." a while ago, pj shared with his dad his dreams of being a writer, and how he wanted to write for this magazine in LA, just to get his foot out the door. his dad didn't take it well at all and said he better get the wrench he asked for because writing won't pay the bills. i stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. pj got up to stomp his cigarette out. when he was done he locked eyes with me. he stared at me with such intensity, it made my knees buckle and my stomach flip. maybe it's a good thing he wore shades 99.9% of the time. i wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug him, let him know that anyone who doubted him didn't know what they were talking about. that me and him could make it on our own. but we were just friends. and he was even more stubborn drunk than he was sober. he turned to go inside then stopped. "you better get home y/n...it's getting dark." i felt the tears sting the corners of my eyes, like bees in the summer time. this wasn't the first time we fought like this, but it's the first time he didn't invite me in afterwards. usually he'd say something along the lines of sorry, or how he has some left over apple pie he needs help eating, really he would say any excuse. but this time, it was like he wanted nothing to do with me. "you're a coward philip and you know it." i shouted. "you have just as much potential as anyone else in this world to do something great, but you're scared!" he stayed with his back towards me, his fists clenched and his head low. "leave y/n."
❥༄ i stared at him until my vision became blurry with tears, which didn't take long. i've always been emotional. i ran away from him, in the direction of our old elementary. i always went there when things became too much to handle and i just needed somewhere to escape to. once i got there i sat on the old rusty swings that squeaked each time you swayed. i felt like shit. maybe i was too hard on pj. it's just that all i wanted was for me and him to have a good future. maybe the reason why i got so mad was because i imagined our futures would be us as lovers, not best friends. i wish i brought one of those beers before i left. i heard rustling coming from my left side and when i turned to look, i saw pj. i turned away and stared at the ground. it was quiet for a while while he sat on the swing beside me. "i'm sorry doll. i didn't mean to yell at you like that, you know how i get when i drink coors." i began to sob as i spoke, "no peej i'm sorry, i was too hard on you." i put my head in my hands and hid my face. pjs eyes scrunched up as he began laughing at me. "oh come on y/n, no need to bring out the water works. we're all good girl" he moved his hand and began rubbing my back. i sniffled and picked my head up, turning to him with a small smile that he returned.
❥༄ it was like that for a while. just me and pj swaying back and forth, till he spoke up. "you know i'm not a coward y/n..." i faced him and frantically began explaining myself. "i know pj i'm sorry it's j-" he cut me off. "the only reason why i'm not doing what i want is because... i wanna keep you close to me." i stayed staring at him. my eyes wider than usual, and my lips tucked between my teeth. "the magazine i wanna write for is based in LA. that means i would have to move there." i remained quiet. he turned to look at me. "come on y/n say some-" it was probably the alcohol more than me, but out of no where, i decided to kiss him. his lips were warm snd soft, i could still taste the cigarettes and coors on his breath. i felt euphoric and nauseous all at once. i pulled away awkwardly and faced him. "i'm sorry peej, i don't know-" he cupped the side of my face and pulled me in for a second kiss. after a minute we pulled away, but we were stuck staring at eachother, like one would disappear if the other dared to look away. "i'll go with you." i spoke, barely above a whisper. pj scrunched his face in confusion. "pardon?" i rolled my eyes at him. sometimes he was such an airhead. "i'll go with you to LA. just say the word and i'll go pj." he stared at me with a goofy crooked smile and picked me up from the swing. i squealed as he threw me over his shoulder. "let's start packing then. we'll get the first flight out as soon as we're done." even though i was upside down and felt dizzy, i couldn't be happier.
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kit-walk3r · 10 months
Text
My Kyle (Kyle Spencer x fem!reader) (Together Not Forever alternate ending)
Maybe you don’t have to learn to let Kyle go after all
Warnings: none
Part 1 Part 2
Note: here’s the alternate ending to Together Not Forever! I’m pretty happy with this so I hope you like it 💗
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“Y/N. She’s leaving,” Zoe repeated. “She’s moving back home to be with her family.”
“Oh,” Kyle looked down. He felt a wave of sadness but also a sense of… relief. If you left then that allowed him to resist the temptation to find you and put you in any danger by being in his company. It would also set you free, away from him.
“Oh? That’s all you can say?” Zoe scoffed.
“Maybe it’s better this way,” Kyle shrugged. “She can get over me and I can get over her.”
“Kyle, you’re miserable without each other. This is your chance to be happy again.” Zoe insisted.
Kyle shook his head. “I made my choice, Zoe. I can’t be near her anymore.”
“How are you going to give yourself any closure?” Zoe asked. She sat down next to Kyle. “You need to think about yourself as well. Kyle, you said she was the love of your life. Are you really going to let her go without getting your own goodbye?”
It was your final shift at the diner before you moved back home to your family. “Someone’s asking for you,” your boss said, pointing to the door that led to the main diner.
“Who?” You asked.
Your boss shrugged. “Some brown haired girl.”
Brown haired girl? Zoe.
You nodded in thanks, before heading out onto the floor. There Zoe was, awkwardly standing next to the door waiting for you.
“Zoe?” You walked over to her and she smiled before greeting you. “What are you doing here?” The two of you had already said goodbye.
“I’m so glad I caught you,” Zoe said. “I’ve got something I need to show you. When do you finish your shift?”
You checked your watch. “In about a half hour,” you answered. “Why? What do you need to show me?”
“It’s a surprise,” She smiled.
“Okay…” You said, confused. “Well, if you let me know where it is I can come meet you once my shift’s over.”
“It’s no bother,” Zoe shrugged. “I can just hang here until you finish. It’s probably easier for me to drive you, anyway.”
You nodded. “Well, if you take a seat over there I can bring you over a milkshake or something.” You motioned towards one of the empty booths.
Zoe took a seat as you walked back to the kitchen, confused and intrigued about what her surprise was.
- - -
Once your shift was over you said your goodbyes to your friends and co-workers before grabbing your bag and heading out to meet Zoe. She was still sitting at the same booth, and got up when she saw you walking towards her.
“Ready to go?” She asked and you nodded.
The two of you headed out to her car which was parked just outside. It was sleek and black, much nicer than anything you could afford. You marvelled at the vehicle for a moment before getting the passenger side, waiting for Zoe to start the car.
“Any hints on what this ‘surprise’ is?” You asked as she started the drive to wherever the destination was. Your interest in whatever Zoe had to show you had peaked now you were on your way.
“Let’s just say I know you’re gonna love it,” Zoe teased, eyes on the road. She was grinning, and you wondered what could be so special for her to look so excited about something for you. You hummed in response and looked out the window at the world passing by for the remainder of the drive.
You weren’t in the car for long before you pulled up to a large pillared white house, surrounded by a black iron gate. Your eyes widened at the majestic sight. It was beautiful.
“Here we are,” Zoe said. She got out of the car and you quickly followed.
“Do you live here?” You asked curiously as Zoe opened the gate, ushering you inside.
She nodded. “For almost a year. It’s a pretty cool place, right?”
You hummed in agreement. She let the two of you into the house and you couldn’t help but gasp at the grandness of the interior. “This is beautiful,” you remarked, taking in the white walls and the chandeliers and grand staircase.
“Come on, your surprise is upstairs,” Zoe smiled and the two of you walked up the spiral staircase, still overwhelmed by the sight. This was a whole lot nicer than the dingy college dorm you lived in.
Zoe led you along a long hallway until you reached the final door on the one, pure white like everything else in this place. She knocked twice before opening the door. “Go inside,” her smile turned into a grin and she pushed open the door for you to enter.
It was quite a sparse room, with very little to no decoration and a bed and nightstand being the only pieces of furniture, asides a small chair in the other corner of the room, yet it still kept up the grand aesthetic the rest of the house you had seen shared.
A figure sat on the bed. He wore a black jumper, contrasting highly with the white surroundings and making him immediately noticeable to your eye. He was sitting with his back to you, but you still noticed the shaggy head of blonde hair that was oh so familiar. Too familiar.
The creek of the floorboards underneath your feet caught his attention and he slowly turned around to see you.
Kyle.
Your Kyle.
You froze in your place, unblinking, as you took in the sight in front of you. No, it couldn’t be. Kyle was dead, long dead. You’d just about come to terms with it now. This couldn’t be happening.
Kyle was still too, and the both of you spent what felt like forever just staring at each other, taking in the fact that you were in each other’s presence again. You felt as if you could hardly breathe. It felt like a dream. Surely this was a dream?
The trance the two of you were in was broken when Kyle uttered your name. That was his voice, Kyle’s voice. Just the sound of it brought tears to your eyes and you felt one slowly roll down your cheek.
“Kyle?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. This had to be a dream, and you wanted to wake up. This wasn’t fair. This would only cause her more pain when she inevitably awoke.
Kyle spoke your name again and stood up from the bed, yet you stayed frozen. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, afraid that if you even took one step all of this would wash away, as if your memory of Kyle would wash away.
He slowly walked towards you as you felt yourself continue to cry. You still felt unable to move and as Kyle inched closer your heart began to beat faster and faster. Your body felt hot, your hands slightly shaking. Was this real? Was this reality?
You felt the gentlest touch on your cheek. Kyle wiped away the tears staining your cheek, even though tears were glistening in his own eyes. Here he was, standing right in front of you and you took him all in. You noticed the scar that ran across one of his cheeks. Just above the collar of his shirt you could see another scar, circling his whole neck, that looked pretty deep. His hair was a mess, not neat and tidy how he usually liked to keep it, and you were pretty sure he was taller than you remembered. He looked different, but he was still Kyle.
The two of you locked eyes, and you acknowledged that you were now both crying. Your own hand mirrored Kyle’s and you reached out to clean his own cheek of tears. The skin under your finger was warm and you gently ran your thumb over the slightly rough texture of his scar. He was still Kyle.
Through the tears you noticed something in Kyle’s eyes, the familiar twinkle you always saw when he was smiling and laughing with you. And that was when you couldn’t control yourself anymore and you jumped at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and pressing your face into his neck in the tightest embrace you had ever given him. He held you back just as tightly and you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head like he always used to. This was real, Kyle was real, and you couldn’t believe that you were lucky enough to have another chance with him.
“Kyle,” you cried into him, your tears non-stop flowing. “My Kyle.”
- - -
Outside, Zoe smiled as she watched the two of you embrace before quietly shutting the door and allowing you to have your loving moment of happiness and bliss.
•———•
Kyle and the reader finally got their happy ending! I’m really happy with how the alternate ending turned out and I hope it satisfied people who wanted a happy ending. I may have one or two ideas for a couple more fics in this series based on this alternate ending if anyone is interested.
Also, remember my requests are open!
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