#going back to my roots y’know?

[daincrediblegg]

KISSING THAT IRRADIATED OLD MAN!!!!!

[lostchildofthenewworld]

me forcing myself trying to write this last bit

[strohller27]

.

[nvuy]

oh, the eldritch horror! — scar

summary. venturing out in the woods to clear your head was supposed to be relaxing, so why is this twisted abominable nightmare of a beast growling in your face?

notes. i rewatched shrek because i was bored and i snatched the donkey & dragon scene right out of it. but like, instead of a dragon, it’s literally baphomet. does this count as monsterfucking bc idkkk… anyway yeah it’s like scar but his goat form. i thought it would be funny. this is just painfully self indulgent.

idk wtf is going on in wuwa but my brain shut down when this loser came on screen and started ranting about shepherds and sheep. whatever you say beautiful.

warnings. scar, very minimal crack (it’s inspired by shrek. idk what to say bro…)

This has to be the worst day of your life.

The creature snaps its drooling jaw in your face.

It looks like a goat from Hell. Like a black sheep that’s wandered from its herd. You can’t see much of its face, but the ginormous pair of curled horns are sharp at the edges. The cartilage could easily slit your throat in half if you were to make one wrong move and lean in too close.

Four yellow beady eyes glare at you, way too close to your face. You can see your warped reflection along rectangular pupils. Giant ears peeled back towards its skull, pierced with two matching golden earrings in the shape of crosses that are the size of your hands.

You laugh nervously in its face.

Oh, god, it’s going to eat you alive. You know it.

You try to take a step back, but you’re met with the roots of a tree at your feet and the trunk digging harshly into your back.

Bad idea. Oh, this was all a bad idea. The bad luck streak should’ve been an indicator right from this morning: you slept through your alarm and were subsequently late for work, you fell over twice at work, you lost your house keys, and then you decided to clear your head and go for a walk.

You ended up venturing off deeper into the trees to search for herbs to help back at the clinic in Jinzhou. You don’t even know which direction the city is anymore.

And now, there’s a creature—and it can’t be a Tacet Discord—growling and snapping its teeth in your face. It’s huge. It’s way too big to be absorbed, let alone actually taken down with brute force. Whacking it with a stick certainly didn’t help.

All that did was manage to slash a decent gash into one of its hind legs and anger it even further.

It snarls at you.

A bead of sweat rolls down your temple.

Uh oh.

“Oh, what large teeth you have!” Your voice comes out shaky, and you’re trembling as you stare up at it.

A low guttural noise escapes from the depths of its throat, and its jaw unhinges.

Your eyes pinch shut. “I-I mean, white, sparkling, teeth!” You let out a nervous huff of laughter, your words almost incoherent. “I know you probably hear this all the time from your food, but, you must take really good care of those pearly whites, ‘cause that is one dazzling smile you’ve got there!”

The creature’s slitted eyes narrow in suspicion. Its jaw snaps closed as it pulls only a few inches away from your burning skin.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your hands.

You clear your throat. “I’m so grateful that your beautiful smile will be the last thing I ever see. Y’know… when you eat me… ‘cause I’m sure you must be hungry!” You prattle on and on, and your knees are weak and wobbly. “Not that you have to eat me. I’d prefer if you didn’t, but– yeah! So grateful!”

You were praying to whatever Gods could hear you that your mindless babbling saved your life. Or some superhero came through and took this thing down in one swing.

The giant creature seems to preen at your words. Its sharp teeth retreat behind a now closed mouth. Its horn suddenly don’t appear as sharp as they were before, and the curl of them against the creature’s skull look softer and more defined. They were different to the ghastly sharp edges you saw before.

Your legs can’t keep still. Your hands interlock in front of you to try and quell the shaking. Your bones feel like they’re vibrating beneath your skin.

You try to control your breathing. “Beautiful hair–fur, by the way.” You raise a finger to point at the greyish locks behind its horns. For such a mangy beast, its hair looked a bit silky. Maybe unwashed, and it was full of twigs, but slightly soft. “And I smell a hint of berry…” Lie. “…Did you… wash it?”

Stupid question.

You try to control your breathing.

Maybe the beast isn’t a beast. Maybe it’s a nice creature cursed with being ugly.

The creature is still eyeing you.

Can it understand you? Or is it trying to survey whether you’re a threat or not? You can’t tell. You heard somewhere that dogs don't like when people look them in the eyes. You didn’t even know if that was true.

The correlation is stupid, regardless. This beast is far from even remotely resembling the canis genus.

Its head is huge, even when its jaw is shut. Its nostrils are the size of your hand, and it breathes puffs of hot air in your face. You reel back further into the tree. Your stomach drops impossibly lower than it already has. Your skin is soaked in sweat.

The creature bumps its nose against your sternum and inhales sharply.

You glance to the left.

Is it… smelling you? Is it trying to figure out if you’re edible? Oh, Gods, then you’re embarrassing stalling would have been for nothing. What a day. As if it couldn’t get any worse than it already had been.

You can't outrun it. It’s huge. By the time you’ve sprinted ten feet away it can simply lean over and pluck you by the back of your collar and pop you into its mouth.

Your insides churn at the thought. You were afraid you’d hunch over and vomit out of fear on the creature’s face.

Bad plan? Maybe then it wouldn’t eat you, at least. Or maybe it would. You were afraid to take the chances, and swallow the bile rising up your throat.

Its oddly bent arms smash into the dirt on either side of you. A low garble echoes in its throat and bubbles with saliva.

It sounds like a croak of sorts.

The lamb creature bumps its sharp snout into your stomach. Those beady eyes blink—you notice it has vertical eyelids. Gross. It’s like a giant lizard, almost.

Its teeth are gone for the moment, though, so it offers you a moment of reprieve. Or maybe it’s trying to calm you down so your blood tastes sweeter, or something. Sweat continues to roll down your neck, and you swallow the giant lump in your throat.

The red sashes of the torn clothes on its back pull with its form, ripping at the seams even more.

Your eyes flit nervously to the wound on its leg. It’s a small smear of crimson against grey fur, barely noticeable, and you’re sure the creature can’t even feel the sudden pain from it anymore. It seems to be walking fine, and it does not exhibit any discomfort when it shifts its weight to each hoof.

You wince when you spot the gnarly gash you left on it.

The lump in your throat doesn’t dislodge.

You try to ignore it.

The creature’s long neck pulls into view again. It’s watching you silently.

You figure if it wanted to eat you, it would have done so already. Hopefully you seemed inedible to it. Maybe it was an omnivore or something—but those sharp teeth were definitely not just for chewing on leaves and berries in the wild.

Morphed fingers dig deeper into the dirt beside your feet.

You stare into its eyes.

Its still eyeing you.

Huh.

It’s… curious. It blinks slowly, one eye at a time, as you slowly, and so slowly, slower than you’ve ever moved in your life, raise your hands.

Then, you navigate around its giant leg beside you and step towards the gash on its hind leg. Your foot tramples onto a twig and it snaps loudly. The creature watches you with lidded eyes, but there’s a flash of teeth in warning. You gulp.

You kneel before its wounded leg and pull your satchel from around your waist.

The creature does nothing. Its teeth disappear behind its mouth again.

“Sorry,” you whisper with a wince. You hope it can understand you’re not a threat. Maybe it’s scared of you. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle? A giant predator, some eldritch abomination in the middle of the woods, scared of a little flesh bag. “Um… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared, y’see?”

You had meant to hurt it, but you’d spit little white lies if they saved your life.

The creature blinks creepily again. That uneven slow blink, like a frog.

You’re more disturbed than anything. You’re amazed that ginormous tongue locked behind its teeth hasn’t come forth to lick its sclera wet yet. Then you’d be more convinced.

You try not to let it show. “But, um…” You dig around in your satchel before you pull out a small glass vial. “I have something that might help.” The vial is made of a crystal glass with a cork in the rim. The liquid inside is a deep blue, like the blueberries growing on the nearby bushes, or like thick ink.

The creature lowers its great head down towards the bottle.

It stares at your hands expectantly before trying to sniff around the glass.

Hesitantly, you remove the cork and hold the rim closer to one of its nostrils. It most certainly doesn't smell good; it’s made up of a mixture of herbs and alcohol, but you know for a fact it does a damn good job at shielding wounds from infection. It was fool-proof medicine; you made it. And you don’t settle for less than perfection.

The creature seems displeased with the scent for it seems to flinch away from the rim. It does not swat the medicine, but it turns its head away.

It looks grumpy.

“It might help the bleeding.” It will help the bleeding. You know it will. It will heal the entire wound. But, you didn’t come here to gloat, so you keep your lips zipped shut. “It’ll sting, though.”

The creature makes a noise. It does not sound like a warning, nor an acceptance of your words. It’s simply an acknowledgement, like a toneless hum, but you also don’t speak eldritch lamb, so you could be far from the truth. For all you knew, it was hyping itself up to open its mouth around your head or take off into the trees.

Alas, it does neither of those things.

It sits back on its hind legs despite its wound and then falls into the grass.

Its eyes shut and it stills.

You blink in wonder.

Did it… die?

Nope. It’s still breathing. Its nostrils flare with every breath. There’s a giant pitiful feeling of disappointment, but at the same time, a smaller pang of relief in your stomach.

Your hand reaches out to touch the tender and raw skin around its wound.

The creature remains still. Maybe it’s sleeping. It did chase you around the forest for a good long while.

You hum. It’s like a giant dog, you think. Like a scary, huge, dog.

You take loose cloth from your satchel and dab the medicine generously into the cotton until it soaks it thoroughly. You don’t have anything to properly clean the wound with, but it will have to do. You do have a wrap of bandages, though, and it’s better than nothing.

Gingerly, you press the soaked cloth to the tip of the wound.

The creature blinks its eyes open and snarls.

You try again in the spot next to it, gently pulling any flecks of dirt you see from the gash.

It hisses then, low and horrible, and you flinch away. It watches you cautiously, hind leg pulled towards itself protectively.

“I just need to clean it,” you say desperately. You know there’s a pleaful gleam in your eyes.

The beast tilts its great head towards you before it snorts and rests down on the grass again.

When you press the cloth back to its wound, it makes a noise, but it does flinch.

So, you work gently. Slowly, like you’re treading through thick murky waters. It feels that way. The creature puffs annoyed noises through its nose, but you dutifully ignore it, watching the shimmer of the medicine in the evening sunlight to make sure it was spread evenly over the gash.

When you’re satisfied, you take its giant hoof in your lap and wrap the bandages around its leg. The size of its calf takes up almost all of the roll, but you make it work, tucking the ends into the wrap. The creature does not deter away from the treatment.

You hope it isn’t too tight.

It’ll give the beast another good reason to close its jaw around your head.

The creature blinks its gross eyes open again, those rectangular pupils drawing thinner. It’s surveying the bandaging like it’s foreign; it probably is, given the creature has probably never received treatment in its life. You notice the ghastly scars drawn over its face.

Still, you’re frightened. The noises that pour from its throat are guttural and flagrant. It’s still huge, even as it lays in the grass. When it raises its head, it’s still taller than you.

You feel a drop of sweat slip down your spine.

It probably hasn’t eaten you because you smell unappetising. You’re thankful, internally.

You stay knelt in the grass, dirt staining your pants as you watch the creature warily.

Then, it coos. It’s snout bumps into your stomach and it coos. You flinch away from the noise, hands raised near your head defensively. Why is it cooing? Does it like you? That’s better than hating you, at least. The creature huffs and puffs against your stomach, and washes of hot air waver over your sweaty face.

You shakily rest a palm on the top of its snout, mindful of the deep scars.

The creature only stares blankly.

Huh. “You’re not so bad.” You swallow nervously. “You’re sort of like a giant puppy.”

The creature lets off a low garble. It sounds innocent, like a passing noise of pleasantries. Like it’s enjoying your attention.

Your hand smooths over the strange fur. It’s coarse between your fingers, withered with age and scars, but it still somehow retains a slight softness. It’s nice. It smells suspiciously like livestock, but that’s better than smelling of blood and sinew.

The creature drowns in the feeling of your hand against its head. The gold earrings are cold against your skin.

Then, it reels back.

You almost jump when its mouth moves towards your face before a long and slimy tongue drags up your cheek. You almost gag as saliva drips from your skin, but you try not to let it show. You shiver instead, mostly out of disgust.

The creature seems pleased though.

You’re glad to be of service. And to still be alive.

Nice puppy.

You try to ignore the slime stuck to your skin as you thumb over the creature’s horns. They’re enormous, much larger than the width of your arm, but the cartilage is so delicate, and you notice chips in the black curls.

It bumps its nose into your sternum and makes a noise.

When you say nothing, it makes the same noise, but it’s drawn out and higher, more irritated. Petrified, you stumble back slightly. You have a clear shot of running now. There’s no trees trapping you with this thing. You could try and make a beeline towards where you think Jinzhou is.

The creature stares expectantly. There’s a slow kiss of a blink, and hot puffs of air fan over your face and send jitters down your spine.

“I don’t– um…” You try to settle your trembling. “I’m not understanding–”

The great creature lets out a frustrated huff, and lowers its head towards you. You think not to place your sweaty palm on its snout for pets again. It doesn’t seem to warrant them at that moment, either.

It’s getting dark now, and you’re growing nervous again. Does it grow violent in the night? Is it warning you? Oh, God, maybe it’s going to pounce.

A cloying scent fills your nose. Your eyes refocus from the tears that melt along your bottom lashes.

You watch, mortified, as the creature warps.

Those giant hooves shrink in size, followed by an engorging shadow of smoke and red dust like sand. It burns your eyes and floods your lungs wrong, and you cough, fanning your face desperately. It stinks. It smells like metals and burnt soil. This mustn’t be good for your health, inhaling all this stuff.

The creature horns curl smaller until they disappear. You can’t see much of it, but what you can see is almost disturbing. It looks painful. The silhouette of the great beast continues to shrink, and those beautiful tresses of white and grey hair curl along what can be assumed to be a more normal looking face.

Its silhouette vaguely resembles a human, but there’s much too little to see you’re not quite sure. Black ripples down those long arms and pulls away the fur covering them.

There’s the snapping and straightening of bones. You almost puke at the sound. You force yourself to look away. Sweat pools in your throat like an oasis.

When you find the courage to glance back, the shadows then peel away from the inky red fog and dust.

You gulp.

It’s a man.

It’s the beast, and you know it is because the scars on the creature’s head match the lines and pulls of his skin. He’s devoid of fur now, and his hair is dramatically shorter, small curls imitating those giant black horns twisting around the now fleshy lobes of his ears and his neck.

His clothes are the same. Ruined and tattered, but still that red coat. His shirt is caked in dirt and his pants are torn where the gash is. It’s still covered by the rolls of bandages.

He is on his hands and knees in the grass. He looks exhausted, like he’s trying to recover from the most painful transformation you’ve ever witnessed in your life.

“Um…” It’s the only thing that can seem to form coherently from your mouth.

A grin cracks onto the man’s face. “Hi.”

You nod slowly in a greeting.

Your spine snaps rod straight in fright.

The man stands to his feet slowly. His bones crack and continue snapping as he moves, and he lets off an annoyed sigh before he stretches and pulls knots from his joints.

Then, he suddenly looks alive. “That’s better. God, have you ever been trapped in your own body?” You briskly shake your head, to which he scoffs playfully and continues, “‘course you haven’t! Silly me.”

“Are you–” You feel stupid for asking, but there’s something forcing you to say it. “Are you a Tacet Discord?”

The man’s face morphs to answer your question. “Do I look like a Tacet Discord?”

Well. He did. About five minutes ago. It takes effort not to respond with irked quips, eyes flitting towards your satchel that’s still resting by his feet where you had left it.

He notices you staring at it and kneels down to pick it up. The thin strap you swing around your body is pulled over one of his fingers like the bag is a foreign object entirely.

You figure he might try and rummage inside. He won’t find much if he plans to rob you.

Instead, his eyes narrow playfully at you. “You are so interesting.” He grips the strap of your bag tight and takes one calculative step forward. “Usually, humans bore me. They’re all cut from the same meat platter, after all.

“But, you…” A pleased, airy little giggle escapes his throat. “Oh, I like you.”

Oh, this is very bad.

That smile on his face says it all.

Very, very bad.

You sucked up way too much to the beast.

You’re in for it now.

You laugh awkwardly in return. You’re not flattered in the slightest.

You hoped the world ended at that very moment. That would fix the problem.

You clear your throat quickly. “I appreciate you not eating me, sir. Really, I do! But I need to get going now. It’s getting dark, y’see, and… and it’s not safe for me to be walking around in the dark…” You’re stalling again. It worked the first time. You hope it works here again.

That doesn’t appear to be the case.

The man watches you closely.

“C-could I have my bag back?” You curse yourself for letting the waver in your voice slip. It sounds hopeless.

As expected, he only snorts. “Nope.” He swings it over his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere just yet.”

You really need your stuff.

Your feet remain planted into the floor.

He’s scary. His smile isn’t normal. The scars pulling around his eyes make it so much worse, too.

His head tilts curiously to the side. He’s walking right towards you now. His eyes rapidly move from your face down to your legs, surveying every inch of you he could.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear.

“What’s your name, little lamb?”

Your heart spikes in your chest. He’ll follow you right back to the city, you know it. You can see it in his eyes, and his expression—where’s that stick to swat him off? Your eyes frantically search the ground as you move for some sort of branch to stave him off.

Your hands raise in front of you to keep him away, but of course your little frail body isn’t going to deter him in the slightest.

If anything, he only coos again.

You tell him your name reluctantly when your foot stumbles over a stray root. You don’t topple over. You can’t imagine what would happen to you if you had to start crawling away from him.

He repeats it once.

Then, his grin softens. “I like it.” It looks relatively normal now, like he’s not about to dig his teeth into your flesh. They’ve straightened up from how sharp they were prior, but you’re sure those canines could do enough damage. “I like you. You’re so nice. So small. So silly.”

You swallow hard.

He says nothing else.

Your brows knit together in worry. “What’s your name?”

His eyes flit down to himself as if he’s wracking his brain to remember. Then, he says, “Scar.”

Underwhelming. It’s like calling a kitten ‘Cat.’ You don’t voice your disappointment. At least his name is simple, and easy to remember.

Your eyes swarm to his bandaged leg.

He’s not even limping. The gash seems like nothing but a fleeting thought.

The man, Scar, hums thoughtfully, a nail pointed onto his cheek. “It’s not everyday you find a little white lamb away from its flock. It would be unwise to give you up to the other creatures in the forest.”

You swallow whatever courage you have left in your bones. “I don’t need protection, but thank you.”

He can keep your satchel. You are out of here.

You turn away from him this time and continue walking forward.

“Oh, but didn’t you just say it’s not safe for you to be out here in the dark?” His words taper off into a chuckle. His smile twists into something grotesque again. His arms are pulled open into some sort of mocking await of an embrace. “Come, little one. I promise I am gentle.”

You don’t believe him.

You’re sweating again. Hot ash clings into your lungs. You stifle the urge to choke on your spit in fear.

Your head turns back to watch him, suddenly alarmed. Gooseflesh raises on your arms.

Stupid.

Your foot catches onto a thick protruding root in the dirt again, but this time you do stumble to the floor. Your head smashes against the ground but you can’t pay it too much mind. You’re panicked, and ice rushes through your veins like blood.

You push yourself up instantly, but he’s quicker, and a foot stamps down onto your calf. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it’s firm enough to keep you there.

His knees hit the dirt on either side of your legs and you’re cornered. You try to sit up to the best of your ability, but he tuts as if he’s reprimanding a child. “Now, now. You’ve hit your head. You could be seriously hurt, y’know?”

“‘M fine!” You push on his chest when he leans down far too close to inspect you. “Get off!”

There’s no physical damage except for a small welt. You feel dizzy, but that’s to be expected.

There’s something alight in his eyes.

Excitement.

This is a game to him.

Scar lets you sit up, though he’s still very much straddling your lap.

That same wobbly grin pulls onto his lips.

Oh, gross. You should never have treated his wounds. Now he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him. You’ve caused some great beast to grow delusional because you wanted to be nice.

You’re never stopping to help lonely animals in the forest ever again.

You swear you see hearts bubble and pop from his head when he blinks at you. He hums a small giggle before his arms wrap around your neck and draw his chest into yours.

He squeezes you tight and you buzz with the excitement that radiates off his skin in heat waves. More and more hearts float from his head, and you’re sure his pupils are a shape to match.

“I want to keep you.”

He squishes his cheek against yours.

“Uh…” What the hell else do you say? Especially to this thing that’s swamped over you like a giant teddy bear. You can’t even breathe.

“So small. Are humans usually this tiny? And you’re so warm–”

You claw at his arms. His grip loosens over your neck.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. Instead, he looks intrigued and experimentally squeezes around your throat again. “Oh. I always forget just how fragile humans are.”

You sigh in defeat.

Oh, boy.

This is going to be a long night.

[l0vergirlwrites]

i’m your favourite ; eddie munson

synopsis: eddie’s insecurities always make him question whether or not he really deserves you, but he knows he can count on you to continuously prove him wrong.

warnings: mentions of insecurities in terms of looks & relationship dynamics, few swear words, fem!reader in mind, reader has a mom, dad & little sister, established relationship, lil heated moments

note: inspired by role model’s song “scumbag” (if you haven’t listened to his latest album “kansas anymore” go do it!!!)

“i’m a train wreck, i’m a cigarette. i’m the side that no one’s rooting for. but you stand by me.”

“eds? did you hear me?”.

quickly blinking his eyes, eddie took in his surroundings & came back to reality. pressing a faint kiss to your hair, he nodded his head.

you both were having a movie night at his trailer with blankets & popcorn on his couch. you both weren’t super picky, so the random cable channel playing horror movies did the trick.

“sorry—zoned out. what were you saying, baby?” he tried to recover from his mere moment of weakness, his arm tightening around your shoulders to pull you closer to his chest.

“i was just wondering…” you teetered, “would you wanna come over tomorrow?” you nerves were taking over now that his attention was fully on you.

“it’s my little sister’s birthday & my parents are doing a barbecue to celebrate—it’s okay if you don’t wanna come, i get it,” you started to ramble, fiddling with the material of eddie’s shirt you wore.

“i just thought it’d be nice for you to meet my family, y’know? b-but you can totally say no—it’s not a big deal” you assured him, but you secretly hoped he’d say yes.

when eddie didn’t answer immediately, you lifted your head from his chest to get a better view of his face, seeing a look of uncertainty on his features. it made you worry if asking this was too much.

“you want me to your family? a-are you sure?”

nodding your head quick, your hand rose up to rest on his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i’m sure,” you smiled once you saw eddie’s face soften, his doe eyes twinkling under the living room lamps.

“you’re my favourite person, eddie. plus, my mom has been dying to meet you since our first date” your cheeks felt warm at that little omission, & you could see a pink hue bloom on eddie’s.

pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand, eddie pushed aside his insecurities for a moment. “okay,” he exhaled, “i’d love to come over”.

pushing yourself up on the couch cushions to thank him with a kiss, eddie’s hands tightened on your waist, sighing into your mouth the longer your lips were locked to his.

“by the way,” he pecked the corner of your mouth. “you’re my favourite too”.

**~*~*~~*~**~*~~*~*~**~**~*~~*~*

tomorrow had come & eddie was freaking the hell out.

his room had become a larger mess than it usually was, turning into a something that looked like a hurricane with all the clothes thrown everywhere & on everything. all morning, he had tried finding the perfect outfit to wear that would be acceptable in the eyes of your parents, but nothing seemed to work.

so for the last ten minutes, he sat against the edge of his bed with his fingers tangled in his lion’s mane, eyes pinched & breath heavy in frustration.

at least, that was until his landline phone began to ring.

“hello?” he spoke into the mic, voice dropping with defeat.

“eds? what’s wrong?” your voice was concerned, only causing eddie’s breath to hitch.

“nothing baby, it’s all good”.

you scoffed. “sure don’t sound like it”.

rolling his eyes playfully, he fully laid out on his bed, back growing uncomfortable from all the clothes sprawled across it.

“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or continue to mope about it?” you chided, only making him sigh.

“i have nothing good to wear”. the statement made him seem pathetic in his eyes.

tilting your head (you knew he could tell your movements), you couldn’t help but have a small smirk on your face while you twisted the phone cord between your fingers.

“now i don’t believe that, baby” now you heard him scoff.

“your parents are gonna think i’m a freak—everybody does. i-i can’t help it”. he spoke softer now, insecurities flowing out of him & overtaking his being because he didn’t want to be made a fool out of.

he wouldn’t be able to survive knowing your family doesn’t approve of him.

& your heart drops at the mere thought of it.

“eddie,” you spoke, trying to reel him back in from the negative parts of his mind. “no one is going to think you’re a freak—you’re so much more than that stupid label”.

he continued to stare up at the client as you spoke, his chest growing heavy with anxiety.

“they’re going to love you because you’re kind, have good humour, extremely helpful, caring, handsome,” you could hear him let out a huff at the last word.

“… & because i love you”.

you both haven’t said those three words yet since you started dating a few months ago. so, now was the first time.

“y-you what?”

fear overtook you now, your heartbeat loud in your ears. did i say it too early you thought to yourself.

“i-i love you, eddie. i hope that’s okay” oh shit.

eddie almost dropped the phone from his hand, still somehow in shock that someone like you loved someone like him. he’s been known as trailer trash, a freak, a thrown out cigarette, a scumbag, a stain on the so called beauty of hawkins—he’s been torn down for too long.

but by the grace of god (or some other being or universe or whatever), you saw past all the tarnished scuffs on him.

it’s something he still can’t fully understand.

“eddie, i-i’m sorry if i just fucked everything—“

“i love you too. sorry it took me so long to say it”

his words took you by surprise, & you couldn’t help but laugh happily into the receiver.

“you don’t have to be sorry, you just have to come over & kiss me to seal the deal” you bit your lip at your coyness, hoping it’d be enough for him to pull through.

“i’ll see you in thirty, sweetheart” eddie said before ending the call, leaving you with a fluttering feeling in your chest. your head bumped into your pillow in a lovestruck haze, cheeks hurting from how hard were smiling.

you were so in love with that man.

**~~*~*~**~***~*~~**~*~**~*~*

you waited at the front door while the party festivities took place in the backyard, hearing your mom yell that the food was almost ready from the back door. you tapped your sandal clad foot eagerly, anxious for when the doorbell would finally ring.

& it hit you like bricks when it chimed in your ears.

your hand (which was slightly clammy from nerves) held the doorknob, twisting it slowly until the door was open & your lovely boy was in view.

he dressed in casual attire consisting of a dark red t-shirt, dark blue jeans, & a new pair of sneakers he got with steve the other day. he still wore his rings & guitar pick necklace, dawning those pearly whites of his with a grin when he saw you.

his hands were full, holding onto things with a claw like grip. in one, he held three small bouquets of flowers from the supermarket & his van keys. the other held a purple gift bag stuffed with white glittery tissue paper, the specks of glitter shining brightly in the mid afternoon sunlight.

“hey, baby” he said with a pep in his step, eying you up & down. you could tell he was still nervous, but he was trying his best to keep cool.

without missing a beat, your hands flew up to his face & you kissed him hard, taking him by surprise on your front door step. but who could blame you for doing such a thing after you both confessed your love over the phone?

“you’re gonna,” *kiss* “make me” *kiss* “drop everything”, he huffed, laughing into your lips when you refused to pull away initially.

“sorry,” you heaved. “just love you so much is all” you grinned harder at eddie’s flushed face.

“lemme put everything down & give you a proper one, yeah?”

you agreed, helping him inside your home for the first time, giving him a quick tour of the main floor as you headed to the kitchen to put the flowers in some water.

“my mom is a gonna get all sappy knowing you got us all flowers—thank you by the way” you pecked his cheek with a pop as you placed the flowers into three different vases.

placing the gift bag on the counter, eddie just shrugged nonchalantly. “well, it’s just what a gentleman does” he said, smirking when you smiled at him.

“yeah,” you made your way over to him, hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, chest pressing into his as his cold ring clad hands held your waist, squeezing it every few seconds.

“you really are the best” you leaned closer to him, lips just about to brush his.

“hmm, is that right?” his breath fanned your face, smelling like spearmint gum.

you could only nod, unable to resist the space anymore until he made the final dip forward, capturing your lips in his for a proper kiss where he could hold you close. it was slow, saying all the things you both wanted to say, while being sweet & soft & rewarding all at the same time.

“i love you” he breathed into your mouth, his thumbs fiddling with the smocked material on the lower back of your dress, being careful not to let them drift too low in case someone in your family caught him—& god forbid it’d be your father.

“i love you too” you murmured, pulling apart to laugh & smile & take all of him in like this.

you took a mental screenshot of him, safely storing it away in your brain’s memory box for later.

“so,” you patted his chest. “ready to meet everyone?” you asked, wiping away some of your lipgloss from his bottom lip while he sweetly tucked some of your hair behind your ear, fingers brushing over your earrings with a smile (because you’re wearing the ones he bought you).

eddie thought you tasted just as sweet as you looked.

“yeah,” he interlocked your fingers with his own, squeezing three times “now i am”.

“i’m a scumbag, i’m a scumbag (but you stand by me)”.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Language, slight smut, touching, body-issues, reader has insecurities over big chest, ass slapping, oral sex (f receiving), self-esteem, mentions slight panic and anxiety, mirror play, and NSFW.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Plus size Reader

Wordcount: 1,945

A/N: I’ve had a lot of negative comments from people/my family about my weight lately, so… This is self-indulgent. I need Eddie to make me and my body type feel appreciated.

Buying lingerie to show Eddie and he’s honored that someone dresssd up for him.

You had fumbled with the bags all day, caught between regretting your decision and ready to take it on. Eddie wasn’t like other guys… other people, really. It wasn’t that you feared what he would do, no. It was the humiliating dread of him being nice to spare your feelings, the worst possible outcome equaling out to disgust at your surprise. But you had pushed it aside, freshened in your shower, applied a different makeup look to frame your features, then slipped an old parka on over the black lace.

You’d forgone heels and kept your boots on, those easy to take off once you had arrived at the trailer, your giddy boyfriend greeting you like he’s never seen you a day in his life. With the air conditioner properly placed in the trailer, Eddie’s hair was down, curled around his shoulders, a simple white tank top and black cut off sweat shorts over his trim form. He’s always beautiful to you. The amused smirk on his face did not go unnoticed, however, upon taking in your parka in this sweltering Indiana heat (even at night). It was an automatic “it’s cooler in my room, if you wanna?” offer, with him grabbing two bottles of coke from his fridge on the way.

Time to do this thing…

~*~

When he pushes his door open, the coolness that carries his Old Spice, nicotine soaked scent, it hits you square in the face. You relax a little, already sliding your fingers into your jacket buttons, popping them open and working the zipper. His back is to you as clears some space on his dresser, going on about why you’re wearing a coat, if you’re okay, what is it about. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, an anxious reaction, and you’re shoving the coat off your shoulders, exposed skin immediately stimulated with the prickles of electrifying goosebumps. And Eddie, god love him, he isn’t at all prepared for what he sees when your voice hooks into his attention span and gets him to turn around.

“Eddie?”

Initially, you take his shocked look as something bad. His widened eyes and slack jaw, the way he runs his fingers and tugs at his own roots. You feel an immature burn of familiar tears, reaching to pick up the coat and apologize. His voice leaves zero room for that energy in here.

“No, baby. No, sweetheart.” Layering on pet names to help soothe you, he calms the panicked nerves he can see escalating.

Though his own heart rate is out of control, his tongue’s tip on fire, touching his cheek, sweats suddenly tighter. You are his personal goddess on the daily — something he never expected, nor looked for. And you did this for him? The devil freak gets something special from an Angel like you? Temporarily halting your actions, you do notice the way his eyes expand into the depths of midnight black, how he reaches to adjust himself in his sweats - it keeps you here.

He reaches for you with that outstretched, tattooed arm. “Baby? Let me in. Let me see? I’m just not used to this…” He rushes to correct his phrasing, already knowing what it could do to you. “I mean, I’m not used to a hot fuckin’ woman getting dressed up for a guy like me, y’know? Takes a minute to sink in. And honestly? I’m waiting for Wayne to wake me up right now.”

It all clicks for you. It isn’t just about your insecurities, but this also giving something special to someone who also struggles to see confidence and self-worth. You’ve never been more proud of yourself than in this moment, overcoming your fears to get Eddie Munson this excited? You take his hand with a soft smile, albeit, still shy as he brings you around to pinch your chin between his fingertips, leaning in to press a kiss to your nose’s tip. His voice is gravelly, soaked in heat. Eddie’s mouth ghosts across your own, barely touching as he asks, “Permission to touch?”

You give into him, hand still in his, the other raising to hold onto the warmth of his shoulder, twirling his curls into your grasp to ease some nerves. His eyes immediately widen as he truly gets to look you over. Overflowing thighs in a beautiful thong, your thick curls peeking out of the sides, your beautiful legs — clad in silk sheer stockings, lace trimmed to meet, your stretch marks, your scars, the way, in which, you carry your plush stomach, to your full breasts that spill over the cups, and even your makeup — different, darker, more smoldering. He tips the digits of his spare hand, rings clinking together as he tickles his way up your forearm, tracing the vein back down, until he’s tapping on your pulse point inside of your wrist. Hands join, his grip shifting you into a twist, with your back pressed against his chest, and how badly he wants you nudging at your bare ass cheek.

You bow your head from immediate reflection in the mirror — something your boyfriend has yet to see. He’s too busy watching the way your ass swallows that thin black strap, this set showcasing all the indents that cascade down your thighs. And even your boots, he loves that you kept it you, that you didn’t force yourself into heels. You don’t like them, he knows this. He lets his fingers path their way along your spine, rubbing across the clasp on your bra, pausing to ask once more, now quite aware that you’re looking awkwardly at his messy floor.

“Sweetheart? You okay up there?” It’s silent for a beats, but then you’re mentioning his mirror.

He fights back a sigh, because how can you not see how perfect you look — without or without all of this. He wants to keep your comfort in mind, but it’s also important that he helps you see how fucking gorgeous you are. So he shakes his head, his curls tickling your shoulder blades.

“I don’t think so.”

You object, stopping yourself when his voice pleads into a softness that you’ve never heard from him before.

“I want to try somethin’. And if you don’t like it, we move away from the mirror, kay? Zero pressure, all your call.”

You have to admit that you’re intrigued, and excitement bubbling beneath your breastbone, dumping molten lava over your flesh. Eddie can see you inhale sharply through the mirror. He does that downward nod, brow raised, and you’re nodding. He’s so giddy that his tongue pokes out in concentration, joined hands freed, one of his dipping backward in a journey to slide the back of his knuckles across your thong strap. You arch into his torso, watching him watch you.

There’s a primal confidence that stirs in your belly, twists inside of your gut, ultimately soaking you between your legs. And as he finds the clasp on your bra, getting it unhooked in one go, only for his hands to dance along your sides, hook underneath your armpits, and immediately begin to tease your areola in languid strokes — you lose it. He allows his chin to rest on your shoulder, his voice the cure for everything you’ve ever needed, or will desire. “Look at yourself. Don’t look at me, just watch yourself.”

Your gaze finds your own body, not even caring at the exposure of your breasts or how they hang (something you are trying to be okay with, you know), heart accelerating full speed ahead, sure that Eddie can feel it. It’s almost like his mimicking the way he runs his fingers across the body of his guitar — easy, languidly, making sure to dip and curve when necessary. He goes with your head tilt, his voice finding your earlobe, hot breath causing your nipples to harden. “This body, it’s like the shield of your secret world. One that only I’m allowed into…” He breaks apart his sentence to drop his hands over your navel, curling into that ticklish spot that has you shivering.

“Eddie…” You watch your lips part, tongue licking to smear your lipstick.

It seems as if you’re watching a private show, beautiful woman and her beautiful lover. You’re out of body, yet you have never been more present. Eddie, he can hardly think, his breaths falling over uneven pants, his cock so hard that his eyes could cross. He can’t stop touching you, won’t dare miss how your eyes have glossed over at the performance your body is giving you. He can cry within this moment, so grateful, so fuckin’ proud of you.

So he keeps going, saying what he feels in several organs. “Your body is a map and I get to explore it with these.” He wiggles his fingers against your tummy, letting them fall above your elastic waistband, before they dip inside. Holy Christ, you’re warm, and he hasn’t even touched you properly.

“With my lips.” His lips find the flesh of your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth — tasting your perspiration, your body wash… you.

He watches your legs spread on their own accord, beckoning him to take what he wants. His fingers brush through your soaking wet curls, a moan leaving his throat so deep that it echoes inside of his diaphragm. Fuck. You’re a mess. Both of you hold your breaths as his fingers glide along your seam, combing through your hair, making it even sloppier, cruder.

And the way you sound…

It is you who looks up first this time to catch the reflection, enchanted by the way his knuckles and the rings adorning take shape beneath your lace panties. He lets his remaining hand smack your ass, one cheek at a time, before it cups your breast to give a pinch. You’re shocked when he releases you to come around and briefly block your view. But he presses his sticky fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without question, enjoying your own taste (something you would barely try beforehand), and Eddie literally gasps, tugging you by a love handle in for a crushing kiss. By the time you part, you’ve left your lipstick stain on his fingers and his own mouth — your claim.

That’s when he licks his lips, dropping to his knees, giving you an entirely different view. He’s at your feet, tugging your panties down, a thick creamy web threaded from you to the crotch, making you swallow harshly. You balance on his shoulder to step out, left in just your boots and thigh high stockings. He rubs his hands along the material, squeezing, appreciating the flesh beneath. His brown irises are left to a simple ring, a murky abyss shadowing his sclera.

His does that thing with his mouth, the one that causes you to fold like a lawn chair. And then he’s speaking to you, using two fingers to noisily part your cunt. “You can even take my tongue captive inside of you, empress.”

Your hands drop, fisting into his curls immediately, as he wastes to time to give you one solid lick, gathering what he has to circle your opening, his tongue’s tip then pushing into you. He’s whining in little grunts, vibrating between your legs, in absolutely heaven on earth. You begin to ride over his face, hand in his curls, unrelenting, one finding your nipple to play with. You’re doing exactly as he’d hoped — watching yourself receive his worship. And this is something he will never let you forget.

[katsu28]

i want you here

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: you finally gather the courage to ask your boyfriend if he'll move in with you (3k)

a/n: steve girlies i have returned!!! been straying away from my roots lately but i’ll always come back to my favorite guy <3

Steve was on the couch when you came home, only looking up from the cooking show he was watching when he heard the key jingling in the door. 

He’d been camped out at your place for hours now, having taken the morning shift at Family Video today which meant he got off work early. He’d beelined right here, using the key you’d given him to let himself in and wait until you got home. 

He found himself doing that more often than not these days, preferring to spend his time at your apartment over his own place so he could see you right when you got home. Sometimes it was just what he needed to make his day a little brighter than normal. 

Sure, it was just a ten minute drive from his to yours, but those ten minutes always seemed like forever. 

“Hey sweetheart!” He chirped, muting the program in favor of twisting around in his seat to face you, his arm hooked over the back of the sofa. When you only let out a vague noise in response, his smile turned sympathetic.

He patted the cushion next to him, prompting you to come over and collapse face-first onto the sofa, stretching out your sore muscles with a tired groan. 

Steve’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck immediately, fingers rubbing along your shoulder blades like it was second nature. “Bad day?” 

“Understatement of the century.” 

“Ouch.” 

“Hold me?” 

“Surprised you even had to ask.” He patted his lap a few times and you sat up, curling up with your head on his thigh comfortably. When you were satisfied with your position, you gave a content sigh. “All better now?” 

You nodded, shifting your focus back to his amused smile. “How was your shift? How’s Robin?” 

“Oh y’know, the usual. Scanning, restocking, same thing different day,” He shrugged, hand waving in the air vaguely before coming to settle just above your heart, fingers rounding out absentminded circles against the material of your shirt. His touch radiated warmth through your entire body, making you more at ease than you’d been the entire day since you’d kissed him goodbye this morning. 

Steve always had that kind of effect on you. 

“Robin’s doing good, her and Nance are planning a trip to New York sometime in the summer, asked if we wanna join them. I said I’d ask you tonight, but we can talk about it another day. They’ll understand.” 

“No, it’s okay. Sounds fun, we should go,” You insisted, smiling softly up at him just to see the pink bloom on his cheeks. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’d be completely okay with a vacation.” You must’ve sounded more tired than you meant to, because Steve frowned. 

“They’re really working you hard these days, huh?” 

You shrugged, letting your head loll to the side until your cheek was pressed to the soft blanket covering his lower half. Steve was concerned, you could hear it in his voice clear as day. “S’fine. Means they know I’m reliable, so if a higher position ever opens up maybe they’ll think of me.” 

“As long as you’re not overworking yourself.” 

“I’m okay, Stevie.” 

He didn’t look like he believed you one bit, but he nodded warily, sensing that you just wanted to change the subject. So he did. “Hey, you remember my neighbor, Mrs. Anderson?”

“The one who power walks around the neighborhood every morning?” 

“Yeah, her! She popped into Family Video today, and it turns out that she divorced her son of a bitch husband because he was fooling around with some floozy from his fencing class—had been for months!” He exclaimed, looking like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. You played along, raising a surprised brow at the news, more interested in the way he was telling his story rather than the story itself. 

Call it creepy, but sometimes you just liked to watch your boyfriend talk. 

“And he had the nerve to ask for more than his share of their money because ‘he had to start from scratch’. I mean honestly, if you’re gonna fuck up your marriage, at least have the decency to just walk the fuck away.” He continued, shaking his head with a disgusted grimace. You fought the urge to laugh at his reaction. “Anyways, she’s doing good, she’s got a date tonight with some guy she dated for a bit in high school who reconnected recently and wanted to get a good movie, so I gave her Doctor Zhivago. Seemed kinda fitting—y’know, reuniting lovers and all that.” 

You snorted. “Did you seriously just use the word floozy?” 

“Really? That’s all you got from my story?” 

“I just didn’t know that word still existed.” 

“Were you not listening to me? I might’ve just kickstarted a new relationship! I should see if Keith would let me start up a new service at the store.”

“Service? Like, you recommending movies to customers?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Isn’t that already technically part of your job description?” 

“I mean technically, but who knows, maybe I could get a raise. A few cents, a buck or two, I dunno.” Steve was mumbling now, more so to himself than to you, rubbing a large palm against his cheek in contemplation. 

You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, gearing up to ask Steve if it was okay if you took a quick nap, but one whiff of fresh laundry distracted you. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you squinted up at your boyfriend.

“What?” He asked, looking simultaneously confused and like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“Did you—did you do laundry?”

Steve let out a huff of air, shoulders sagging in relief. All traces of annoyance from the former Mr. Anderson and his fencing floozy were long gone. “Yeah, I did. I figured I’d make myself useful for once, get some stuff done around here so you wouldn’t have to when you got home. I hope that’s okay.” 

It was more than okay. Beyond okay, if you were being honest with yourself. 

Steve had been doing that a lot recently, taking care of little things around your apartment while you were away at work. Putting clean dishes away, changing that pesky flickering light in the bathroom that you couldn’t reach, fixing a wobbly table leg. Things that, among others, you’d been too tired to take care of when you got home. 

“Do you wanna move in with me?” You heard yourself asking, shifting yourself into a sitting position, knees pressing against his. 

Steve’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “You want me to—you want me here?” He sounded taken by complete surprise, honey eyes wide as he blinked at you slowly. 

Sure, was your name on the lease, but there were already traces of Steve everywhere in your apartment. 

A collection of his hair products mixed in with your skincare on the bathroom counter, a few mugs with cheesy puns littering your collection in the cabinet. A handful of sweaters of his in the drawers of your dresser that you’d stolen and he’d never taken back. 

His work schedule tacked onto the fridge with a magnet one of the kids had made for him, almost lost within the various notes he’d written you over the years. Chicken scratch and awful doodles on Post-It notes, receipts, Family Video notepads, anything he could get his hands on, then tucked into your pocket, stuck onto the bathroom mirror. Anywhere and everywhere he could, just so you’d smile and think of him. 

You look really pretty today. 

Do you have a bandaid? I think I scraped my knee falling for you. 

Someone call the cops because I think you’ve stolen my heart. 

You wanted more of him. You wanted all of him. 

“Of course I want you here, Steve,” You murmured, rubbing your thumb along the ridges of his knuckles soothingly. “I wanna come home to you at the end of every day and have dinner with you every single night, breakfast every single morning. I want your toothbrush in the cup next to mine, your clothes in the closet, your weird stolen DVDs from Family Video under the TV.” 

Steve’s lips parted like he was about to say something, then closed again before any words could come out. 

Maybe you’d overstepped by asking him to move in. Maybe you’d been entirely misinterpreting where you were in your relationship, and he wasn’t on the same page as you, and that’s why he wasn’t saying anything. 

“D’you think—is that…something you would want?” You asked hopefully, feeling a bit shy now. 

“Yes.” He replied immediately, nodding so quickly his hair flopped over his forehead. “God, yes. Please.” 

Your smile grew unbelievably wide at his enthusiasm. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Yes, really,” He insisted, nodding again. “I’d love nothing more.” 

“Well, it’s settled then. We’re gonna live together.” 

He beamed, and you swore it was like pure sunshine injected straight into your veins. You’d get to see that smile whenever you wanted now. “Holy shit, sweetheart! We’re gonna live together!” 

Steve moved in very soon after that, only weeks between the day you had the conversation and the moment the last box was shoved into the backseat of his car. 

He dusted his hands off on his jeans, slamming the door shut with a sense of finality before making his way over to come stand next to you. 

“You gonna miss this place?” You asked, tilting your head at the looming house in front of you. You’d never tell Steve, but his house always gave you the shivers. It was nice, of course, but it was too nice. Too staged, like everything was just for show, and not the place that made your Steve into the person he was now. 

“Not a chance.” He replied. His arm snaked around your waist, fingers coming to twine through yours in your jacket pocket. “Not when I have you to look forward to everyday for the rest of my life.” 

“That’s so fucking cheesy.” 

Steve leaned more into you, bumping his hip against yours. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.” 

“Are you excited?” 

“Do you want me to jump for joy and run around the yard to show you how excited I am? ‘Cause I will.” 

“Please don’t.” 

Steve stuck his tongue out at you childishly. “Party pooper.” 

-------

“Dude, I thought you lived here already. You’re over here all the time anyways.” Dustin scoffed, popping a grape into his mouth. The younger boy had agreed to lend a hand in your unpacking endeavors today, though you suspected he was more here for the promise of dinner after everything was said and done. The same could be said for Eddie, who hadn’t shown up yet. 

“You literally came to my house last week to use my pool?”  

“Yeah, but I thought Y/N had just, like, kicked you out for the day. Like you were in the doghouse or something!” Dustin explained, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Steve squinted at him, brow furrowed. “But yeah, congratulations on the new home, welcome, whatever!” 

“Babe, we should change the locks. Gotta keep the local riffraff out.” He whispered loudly, to which Dustin flipped him a playful bird. “Speaking of riffraff, where’s Eddie? I thought he’d be here by now.” 

“Probably still sleeping.” Dustin shrugged, taking a seat on the couch. 

“It’s the middle of the day!” 

“You know him, he’s like a fucking bat. Sleeps all day, stays up all night.” 

“Henderson! Language!” Steve chided, flinging a grape at the boy. It bounced off Dustin’s arm and rolled across the floor, disappearing under the coffee table. You turned your gaze on Steve, raising an expectant eyebrow at him in an expression that he recognized immediately. The grin on his face disappeared and he nodded once. “Sorry. Getting it now.” 

“You’ve got him on a tight leash, I like it.” 

“How do you think I lured him here in the first place?” You hummed, shooting Dustin a cheeky wink. 

Steve made some sort of noise of protest from under the table, quick to insert himself back into the conversation. “Hey, I have my own free will! Lemme tell you, I—ow, shit!” 

“Better watch your language there, Harrington,” Dustin snickered. 

“This is my home now too, I can kick you out anytime I want!” 

“No you can’t! Y/N would never let you, she loves me.” 

Steve reemerged with the offending grape clutched between his fingers, glaring at Dustin. “Fifty bucks says she loves me more.” 

“I’ll take that action!�� Both boys turned their attention on you, waiting for you to settle the score.

You shook your head, lips pressing into an unassuming line as you raised your hands in surrender. “I’m not getting involved.”

-------

Dustin proved little help on the unpacking front of things, as did Eddie when he finally made it over, both of them too enamored with rifling through the boxes looking at everything rather than actually taking them out like they were supposed to. Steve wanted to scold them, but you’d convinced him not to with a simple kiss. He was always easy to persuade like that. 

Most of the boxes had been emptied and littered around the main rooms by the time the sun set, so despite your helpers’ very unhelpful demeanor, things had gotten done anyways.

You’d ordered a few pizzas as a thanks, but Eddie had shuffled Dustin right out the door with the excuse of an emergency Hellfire meeting (which he not-so-quietly whispered was a lie, and that he wanted to give “the two lovebirds some alone time”), much to the dismay of the curly headed boy. 

Missing out on free pizza was a top ten betrayal scenario for him. Maybe even a top five, but Eddie had let the door slam behind him before Dustin was able to finish that thought. 

“Meals til we go to the store, I guess?” Steve offered, picking a green pepper off his slice to discard onto your plate. You were sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, Steve leaning on it across from you with his elbows propped up as he passed you every single one of his peppers and claiming your pepperoni in return. 

“I have food in the fridge, y’know.”

“Oh, right, right. No yeah, I’ve seen it. Leftover takeout and a bag of shredded cheese?” He raised an amused brow, cocking his head. You scowled. “Very self sufficient, babe.” 

“I’ve been meaning to go shopping!” 

“And tomorrow we can. Together. Because we live together now.” 

“Is that something you’re gonna be saying all the time from now on?” 

“Until the end of time, sweetheart.” Fondness dripped from his tone like syrup, nearly giving you a cavity from how sweet he was being towards you. 

He met you in the middle, kissing you happily in the middle of your kitchen like he’d done so many times before. Only this time it felt different, because it was now Steve’s kitchen too. His home. 

-------

You were the first one awake the next morning. That was usually how weekends went when Steve was there—you’d wake up before he did, but you wouldn’t rouse him from his deep slumber. You usually just watched him sleep for a bit, in the least creepy way possible. 

It was just…Steve was so pretty in the mornings, and today was no exception. Sunlight poured through the curtains, washing over his sleeping form in a golden glow that made him look goddamn heaven-sent. 

Sometimes you couldn’t even believe how lucky you were to have the privilege of loving him. 

Steve’s arms were tucked under his pillow, face smushed into it and hair a fluffed up mess, and there might’ve even been a little bit of drool gathered at the corner of his mouth. You thought he was pretty nonetheless. 

You must’ve been staring a little harder than you meant, because Steve inhaled a deep breath, sniffling a few times before blinking awake slowly. He yawned big and loud, flipping over onto his back with a sigh. 

“Well good morning, roomie,” He hummed, voice heavy with sleep. He smiled lazily at you, reaching out to trace a line along your arm, past your elbow, your wrist, all the way down to your hand until his fingers were laced tight with yours. “Y’know, it’s not nice to stare.” 

“That’s your fault for being so easy on the eyes.” 

“Oh yeah? I could say the same for you.” Steve’s grin only grew bigger, even though he probably couldn’t really see you clearly without his glasses on. “Okay, wait. Hold on, hold on, I can’t see you properly. Where’s my—'' He felt around the bedside table blindly for the aforementioned glasses, nearly knocking them to the floor before grabbing them and shoving them onto his face. 

He shook his head, blinked a few more times to get used to the change, then focused back on you. “There you are. Hi, my beautiful roommate.” 

You swiped the pillow out from under Steve’s head, swinging it at him so it thumped against his chest. “Call me your roommate again and I’ll kick you out of my bed.” 

“Jesus, ow—did you not hear the part where I called you beautiful?!” Steve yelped, snatching it out of your hands and jamming it back under himself. “Plus, I think you mean our bed now.” 

“You’ve already slept in it enough times to call it yours too, even if you hadn’t moved in.” You pointed out. Steve sighed loudly. “What?” 

“You’re supposed to say yes, I love you, my favorite person in the world.” 

“I love you, my favorite person in the world.” 

“Well, now it feels like you’re just mocking me.” 

“Maybe I am.”

“That’s rude. Anyways, breakfast? I’ll make one of those fancy egg scramble thingies you like.” Steve was already swinging his legs out of bed before you responded, because he knew you’d say yes. He lifted his arms high over his head, stretching out his stiff muscles with the loudest of groans before letting his hands slap back down into his lap. 

When you didn’t reply, he turned around. “There you go again with the staring! Honestly, if I’d known you’d shamelessly ogle me this much, I would’ve thought twice about moving in, you creeper.” 

“You know you love it,” You sing-songed, aiming a teasing smile over at him. “Now go make me breakfast, roomie!” 

“God, you were right. That does not have a nice ring to it.” 

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[darksturnz]

NIGHTS LIKE THIS

CONTENTS:・teeth rotting fluff-heavy plot (imo) ・star!reader ・mild language ・sleeping in the same bed・artist!chris ・substance use + more (part two here) WC: 2.3k

i highly highly recommend listening to this on repeat, as that’s what i did :,) promise it sets the mood. + heavily dedicated to my literal star @55sturn

The roof of Chris’s trailer creaked as Star stretched out on the patchy blanket, her black hoodie blending into the night sky above. The air was cool, almost cold, but not quite enough to send her shivering. Pine View was never silent, even at night—the hum of cicadas buzzed low in the background, broken occasionally by a bark or the far-off growl of an engine.

Chris sat beside her, leaning back on one elbow, a joint hanging loosely from his fingers. His face was calm, unreadable as always, except for the faint furrow in his brow. Smoke curled lazily in the air between them, dissipating into the starry sky.

“I’m telling you,” Star said, voice animated as her finger traced a constellation, “if aliens exist, there’s no way they’re not watching us right now. We’re like, prime reality TV for them. Chaos, drama, stupidity—it’s got everything.”

Chris exhaled a slow stream of smoke, not bothering to look up. “Pretty sure aliens have better taste than watching us fail at life.” His tone was dry, the corner of his mouth twitching like he wanted to smile but wouldn’t let himself.

Star glanced over at him, her lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re such an optimist, Chris.”

“Realist,” he corrected, passing the joint to her without looking. His eyes were fixed somewhere on the horizon, but she could feel him listening in that quiet way he always did.

She took a drag, coughing slightly before handing it back. “Still. If they’re watching us, I bet they’re rooting for us, y’know? Like… even when life’s a mess, people find these little moments of peace. Kinda like this.”

Chris finally glanced at her, the faintest flicker of something soft in his sharp features. The way her nose crinkled when she tried to suppress her laugh; the way her eyes lit up, reflecting the stars she couldn’t stop rambling about—it was… annoying, maybe, how effortlessly she made the night feel less heavy. But not in a bad way.

“Maybe,” he muttered, almost to himself, before looking away again.

They lapsed into silence for a while, the kind that felt comfortable after months of stolen nights like this. Star broke it first, as she always did.

“You’re extra quiet tonight,” she said, nudging his shoulder. “What’s on your mind? Or are you just too high to function?”

Chris rolled his eyes, taking another drag. “Maybe I like the quiet, Kid. You ever think about that?”

“Nope,” she replied easily, grinning. “You’d be miserable without me, admit it.”

“Sure,” he said, deadpan, though the corners of his mouth twitched again.

Eventually, Star sat up, wobbling slightly as she eyed the trellis below. “Alright, we should head down before I fall asleep up here. You’re terrible at carrying people, and I refuse to be a headline in the Pine View Gazette: Local Emo Girl Plummets to Death Off Trailer Roof.”

Chris snorted. “They’d probably get your name wrong, too.”

Star nudged him with her elbow. “Go first. You’re the guy. Don’t guys like… live for this macho stuff? Protecting damsels in distress n’all that?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “You’re about as distressed as a cat on catnip.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the roof, gripping the trellis. It creaked under his weight, but he made it down smoothly, dusting his hands on his jeans when he reached the ground.

“See?” he called up. “s’fine. Just don’t be an idiot about it.”

Star pulled a face. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Captain Supportive.”

As she carefully climbed down, the trellis groaned ominously. Her foot slipped on a loose slat, and the sound of wood snapping was followed by a startled yelp.

“Chris!”

She fell backward, and he scrambled to catch her. The impact sent them both crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Star landed on top of him, groaning as she tried to sit up. “Oh my god, I told you this thing was a death trap! Are you okay? Did I—”

“Shut up,” Chris said, breathless, but there was no heat in his words.

He stared up at her, his eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The joint haze lingered in the air, making every detail sharper—the warmth of her body against his, the way her breath hitched slightly, the glint of stars in her wide eyes.

Her voice softened. “Chris…”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, his gaze flicking briefly to her lips. It was as if gravity itself was pulling them closer, and she swayed slightly, her hands braced against his chest.

And then—

“Chris?”

Lila’s small, groggy voice shattered the moment. They froze, heads snapping toward the trailer’s back door, where Lila stood in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes.

Star scrambled to her feet, her cheeks burning. Chris sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair as he muttered, “What are you doing up, Lila?”

“I had a bad dream,” she mumbled, sniffling.

Chris sighed, climbing to his feet and brushing off the dirt. “Alright, c’mon,” he said, jerking his head toward the trailer. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Star stood awkwardly to the side, still flustered, as Chris led Lila inside. When he came back out a few minutes later, his face was unreadable again, the moment between them seemingly forgotten.

“You coming?” he asked, nodding toward the trailer.

“Yeah,” she said quickly, following him in.

They collapsed onto the couch with a spread of leftover snacks, bingeing Rick and Morty in comfortable silence. But every so often, Star caught Chris sneaking glances at her, his expression softening just slightly before he turned back to the screen.

Star popped a fry into her mouth, her legs curled beneath her on the couch. The glow from the TV flickered across her face as the absurd antics of Rick and Morty filled the small living room. She stole a glance at Chris, who sat slouched next to her, picking at the crust of a slice of leftover pizza.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the moment on the ground—the way his eyes had locked with hers, the way her heart had flipped in her chest. It was ridiculous, really. Chris was… Chris. Gruff, blunt, emotionally unavailable Chris. And yet, her cheeks still felt warm when she thought about how close they’d been.

“You’re staring,” Chris said without looking up. His tone was as dry as ever, but the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Star jerked her gaze back to the TV, stuffing another fry into her mouth. “I’m not staring. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Right,” he drawled, finally glancing over at her. “Because you’re the picture of subtlety.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” she shot back, turning to face him fully now. “You’ve been sneaking looks at me all night. What, do I have something on my face?”

Chris raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he leaned back against the couch. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just paranoid.”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge if he was messing with her. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” he replied smoothly, grabbing the remote and flipping to the next episode.

Star crossed her arms, leaning back with a huff. “I could’ve stayed home.”

Chris turned to her, the ghost of a smirk still lingering. “You wouldn’t have. You like it here too much.”

Her mouth opened to argue, but no words came out. Because he wasn’t wrong. For all his snark and the peeling wallpaper of his trailer, Chris’s place felt… safe.

“Whatever,” she muttered, grabbing a handful of fries.

They watched the episode in silence for a while, the tension between them softening into something almost comfortable again. But as the credits rolled, Chris spoke, his voice quieter than usual.

“What…what was that earlier,” he said, not looking at her.

Star stiffened, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “What was what earlier?”

His jaw shifted, like he was debating whether to say it. Finally, he turned his head to meet her gaze, his expression unreadable. “You almost kissed me.”

Her face burned. “I—what? No, I didn’t!”

Chris arched an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “You sure about that?”

The air between them grew heavier, the space on the couch suddenly feeling much too small. Star swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as she held his gaze.

“Well, if I did,” she said, trying to sound casual, “you almost…did it back.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, his eyes flicked down to her lips, just for a second, before meeting hers again.

For a moment, it felt like they were back on the ground outside, the rest of the world fading away as gravity pulled them closer.

But then, from the hallway, Lila’s small voice rang out again.

“Chris? Can I have water?”

Chris sighed, breaking eye contact as he stood up. “Yeah, I got it,” he called, his tone softer than usual.

Star exhaled, her shoulders slumping as the tension dissolved into the air. She stared at the TV, her fries forgotten, as Chris disappeared into the kitchen to help his sister.

When he came back, he sat down beside her without a word, grabbing another slice of pizza.

“Chris,” she said after a long pause, her voice quieter now.

He glanced at her, chewing lazily. “Yeah?”

She hesitated, her fingers twisting in the hem of her hoodie. “Never mind.”

Chris studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned back, grabbing the remote again. “You’re weird,” he muttered, though there was no edge to his voice.

Star rolled her eyes, pulling her knees to her chest as the next episode started. But despite the casual banter, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something between them had shifted.

Neither of them said anything more about it, but as the night stretched on, Chris stayed just a little closer to her on the couch, his shoulder brushing hers every now and then.

The glow of the TV flickered softly across the living room, the chaos of Rick and Morty still playing, though Star hadn’t laughed in a while. Chris glanced over, noticing her head drooping slightly, her knees pulled to her chest. Her eyelids fluttered shut, the stubbornness that usually lit up her expression now replaced by something softer, more unguarded.

“Star,” Chris muttered, nudging her leg with his foot.

She mumbled something incoherent, barely stirring.

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. The night had already been a whirlwind—her almost falling off the roof, the tension of their moment on the ground, and now this. Yet here she was, passed out on his couch like it was her own home.

Chris stood, stretching before leaning down to scoop up the half-empty plate of fries on her lap. He set it on the coffee table, shaking his head. “You really can’t hang, can you?” he muttered under his breath, though his voice lacked any real bite.

Star whimpered lightly but didn’t wake. Chris hesitated, his hands twitching at his sides as he debated whether to just leave her there. But something about the thought of her waking up in an uncomfortable position, complaining about her back for the next week, pushed him to act.

He bent down, sliding an arm under her legs and another behind her back. She stirred slightly as he lifted her, her body instinctively curling into his chest. Her head lolled against him, nestling into the crook of his shoulder, and Chris froze mid-step.

Her soft breath tickled his neck as she adjusted again, snuggling closer, completely unaware of what she was doing. His heart stuttered in a way he wasn’t used to, an unfamiliar warmth blooming low in his stomach.

“Damn it, Kid,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no malice in his tone.

She mumbled something incoherent again, her arm curling loosely against his chest like she belonged there. It was so unlike her usual sharp edges, her endless teasing and snarky comments. Like this, she was… soft. Vulnerable. The part of her she didn’t let the world see.

Chris carried her down the narrow hallway to his room, his movements careful and deliberate, as if afraid to wake her. The soft creak of his bedroom door greeted him as he nudged it open with his foot. Moonlight spilled in through the window, casting a faint glow over the small, familiar space.

As he lowered her onto the bed, she stirred, her head shifting slightly. For a brief moment, he thought she’d wake, but she just sighed, curling into herself instinctively.

Chris lingered, crouched beside the bed, watching the way her face relaxed, her lips slightly parted as she fell deeper into sleep. The faintest furrow creased his brow as he studied her, caught between the familiarity of her presence and the strange, twisting feelings in his chest.

She shifted again, burrowing deeper into the blankets as her arm stretched out toward the space where he usually slept. He swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the pillow he always placed between them. The unspoken rule—his own attempt to avoid another awkward morning of waking up to find her tangled around him.

But now, as he watched her, those feelings from earlier returned—the strange pull, the warmth that made him feel more unsettled than he wanted to admit.

Chris dropped the pillow.

He stood there for another moment, his gaze lingering on her soft features before he climbed into the bed beside her. He stayed on his side at first, stiff and unsure, leaning back against the headboard.

But when her arm instinctively draped across his stomach and her head found his shoulder again, he didn’t pull away.

For a while, he just lays there, staring up at the ceiling, her even breaths filling the quiet space around them. The barrier was gone, and something in him—something unspoken—decided it didn’t need to come back.

AUTHORS NOTE: i love him. i literally LOVE him. my sweet angel boy. that’s all.

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @mattsmunch @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips

[dilatorywriting]

59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.

Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.

“Did you remember your homework?”

Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.

“Well?”

“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.

“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.

You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”

“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”

You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”

“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”

You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”

“You will,” he scoffed.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”

See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.

“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.

“Whatever you say, Leona.”

.

.

You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.

“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.

That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.

“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.

You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

You were going to give him an aneurism.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”

Another shrug.

“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”

Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.

.

.

When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?

Well. Yes, apparently.

“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”

He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”

You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.

“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”

Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”

“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”

“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.

“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”

“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.

.

.

You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  

“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”

And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”

And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”

Which was—was—

“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.

“Think what?”

Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.

But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.

“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”

“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.

“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”

“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  

“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.

“What?”

“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”

“Never say any of those words again.”

You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.

“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”

Kind.

Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.

Oh, fuck. It is contagious.

.

.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 007 (PT 2)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [8.5k] based on Netflix’s Outer Banks Season 2 Episode 10

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, general obx warnings, graphic depictions of injuries/blood, mild violence

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ i KNOW y'all hate me but i've literally been through hell and back these past 1-2 months but we are BACK IN BUSINESS XX THEE SEASON 2 FINALE

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“IT’S SO HOT IN HERE…” You groaned, fanning yourself as you slumped against the side of the receptacle. You’d all been enclosed in the space for well over two hours at this point and the exhaustion was starting to settle in…as well as the agitation.

“Nice work, John B.” JJ said sarcastically as you leaned on the blonde's shoulder while he glared at his best friend. “Y’know, these things lock from the outside, right?”

“I was just trying to get us on the boat, JJ…” John B groaned, forehead pressed against the metal wall as he stood limply. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

“Now we’re stuck in here...like rats.” JJ argued, tone short. 

“It’s hot…” Kiara exasperated, stripping off her jacket.

“Okay, JJ, you’re not helping.” Pope dismissed, annoyed as beads of sweat trailed down the sides of his face. He was gripping a random bar, holding on for dear life. 

“You don’t have a whole lotta room to talk, right now, Pope.” JJ retorted. “You said you had a plan but what happened to thinking ahead?” 

“I find your lack of self-knowledge very disturbing.” Pope shot back through heavy breaths. 

“Ohh, okay.” JJ laughed humorlessly, standing from his spot. “Last time I checked-”

“Oh, my God. Shut up!” You and Kiara reprimanded simultaneously — you tugging so hard on JJ’s arm that you managed to get the boy to sit back down as Kie slammed her arm between the two. “Instead of arguing,” You started. “How about we try to find a way out of here?” You offered, mildly agitated yourself.

“We can take the bridge.” JJ offered, shrugging carelessly. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, turning towards your boyfriend stiffly, sighing.

“...What?” 

“The bridge. It’s like killing a snake — we go for the head. And I happen to know that there’s an armory on this ship. I’m talking grenades, SMG’s-”

“Killing everyone here is not an option.” You stopped JJ bluntly, looking the blonde in his eyes. You sighed once more, walking away in an attempt to recollect yourself, isolating yourself from the group and wandering into the very back of the shipping container.

“Well, what’re we supposed to do-”

“We can’t do anything until we find a way out of here, JJ.” John B told the boy. 

You tuned out the boy’s conversation as your eyes found a beam of light coming from behind a mountain of crates and boxes. The observation stopped you in your tracks, squinting your eyes as your thoughts raced. Without hesitation, you began moving the objects out of your way to get to whatever was shining behind them.

After a few minutes, you finally got to what you were looking for — your eyes going wide. “Guys…” You tried, but your voice went unheard over the bickering of the two boys.

“Guys!” You snapped, eyes on your friends on the other end of the container. Their voices came to a halt, all eyes on you as you used your head to motion them over.

“She’s got somethin’.” JJ mumbled as the four of them walked over to you, now able to see what you were seeing.

“Can we fit through that?” You asked smugly, motioning for the window you’d uncovered. 

“Hell yeah.” JJ chuckled, squeezing your arm proudly. “And uh, what about that swiss army knife 'not coming in handy'?” JJ asked sarcastically in John B’s direction, holding his pocket knife in between his fingers — the perfect tool to pry the grate off of the window.

“Just shut up.” JB rolled his eyes as JJ used one of the crates on the ground as a step stool to get high enough to start rooting out the metal grate.

“Okay, sooo…we raid the armory, get weapons, roll back here, and plot the next move?” Pope confirmed with the group as JJ worked, to which everyone nodded tiredly.

“The armory is on the third deck, near the laundry room. Let’s roll.” JJ verified, fingers hooked into the unscrewed grate, ready to pull it off. 

“Hold up.” Pope started, looking around at all of you as JJ stopped in his tracks. “I don’t think we should all go out there…” He cringed. “It’s too risky.”

“What?” JJ said incredulously. “How?”

“...I think you should stay here.” JB added, eyes on your boyfriend. “I have Sarah that I’m gonna go after. And Pope has-”

“The cross.” Pope finished for him. 

“Yeah…” JJ said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Let’s go get it.”

“Also, if you go out there, there’s a one-hundred percent probability that you’re gonna do something stupid.” John B shrugged.

“Okay, first of all, I think the correct terminology is ‘ballsy’-” JJ tried only to be cut off.

“Okay, get down here-” Pope urged, tugging on the blonde’s arm.

“No. Get off-” JJ whisper-yelled as he snatched his arm away but hopped down off the crate anyway. “Dude, I’m a field player.”

“Shhh.” John B demanded. “Look, if we go out there and we get in a bind, we need somebody to look out for us. That’s what we need-”

JJ scoffed, unbelievably. “Okay, I get it, I get it.” He dismissed, jutting out his bottom lip as he trotted over to you, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay here. Single out the one who got your asses out of the container, cool.” He said. "I’ll be on B team, ‘s fine.”

“I never said B team.” John B said bluntly, blinking.

“Sorry, are you calling me B team?” You asked, mildly offended as you looked up at the blonde, crossing your arms.

“You’re not B team, baby, of course not. I was just-”

“Did ‘B Team’ not just find our way out? Or am I, like, totally losing it?” You asked rhetorically, looking around the cabin with your hands up in surrender. 

“Look, we’re just saying we need people to hang back and hold down the fort.” Pope clarified, hands clasped in front of him. 

“Great, fine. It’s fine, I’ll just stay here with my girl.” JJ smiled annoyedly, throwing an arm over your shoulders as your arms returned to their crossed position.

“Oh, now you wanna stay back with B Team?” You sassed, raising your eyebrows.

“Will you please-” JJ tried before being cut off by Kiara.

“Guys.” She said firmly. “Chill. Look, John B and Pope wanna go alone? Fine. I’ll stay here with Y/N and JJ, I’ll babysit.”

“You guys have fun. It’s your funeral, your game. We’ll be in here, on the bench…” JJ taunted, shrugging nonchalantly as he released his hold on you and walked back to the front of the container.

You watched as John B and Pope climbed the crates on the floor up to the opened window, one behind the other as John B moved the metal grate to the side. 

“Don’t...get shot?” Kie said, attempting to offer some kind of comfort.

“...Don’t get shot.” Pope reiterated sassily, pulling his lips into a thin line. “That’s…disheartening and scary.”

Kie simply shrugged. “It’s all I got.”

“Okay, let’s go.” John B whispered, poking his head out of the window like a dog. “Pope, grab my feet.”  He instructed in a whisper before launching himself out of the window before bothering to make sure the boy in question even had a hold on him. 

“Oh, Jesus-” Pope cursed, watching as his friend fell face first out of the window — you and Kie’s jaws going slack. It seemed John B had managed to catch himself, however, considering there was no screaming or cursing as his entire frame seemed to slide the rest of the way out of the window.

Seconds passed before Pope followed suit, carefully sliding himself out of the small opening. You were quick to tip toe up the crates, hearing unknown voices from the outside which prompted you to carefully replace the metal grate, praying it wouldn’t dislodge itself. 

Letting the object set itself, you turned to face the two people you remained locked inside with, sighing heavily to yourself when you realized how awkward this would be — even if all parties didn’t realize it. 

“...’s just us.” You sighed with a grimace, hopping down off the grates. “Now, we wait.”

NOT EVEN THIRTY MINUTES INTO CAMPING OUT, OR “KEEPING WATCH", THE THREE OF YOU WERE SWEATING BULLETS. Kiara had isolated herself on the complete other side of the container — whether it was to give you and JJ space or avoid you, you weren’t entirely sure. A part of you wondered if you should tell JJ about Kiara’s confession, if that was the right thing to do as a girlfriend. But the other part figured that it wasn’t your place as Kiara’s friend, no matter how rocky of a hill the friendship currently stood on.

“I’ve been thinking,” JJ started after half an hour of silence — you were resting your head in his lap, hands splayed across your stomach as he laid his head back against a stack of boxes and crates. “When all this is over, and we’re just rollin’ in the dough, I’m gonna get a new board.” He concluded, lanky fingers playing in your hair. “I’m gonna deck it out, and I’m gonna go on a surf trip.” He smiled to himself in thought as you stared up at him. “I don't know where,” He shrugged. “But, like, the world’s calling…I don’t know. Name a place.” He requested, blue eyes looking down at you.

You pondered for a moment, fingers tapping on the surface of your stomach before you settled on an answer — eyes meeting his with a small smile. “Spain.”

He beamed, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Then after Spain?”

“...South America.” You said, pouting your lips in thought. “Or South Africa.” You shrugged with a smirk.

“And then Micronesia, maybe? And then we…just ride.” He sighed dreamily. You couldn’t help the pure admiration blooming in your eyes, unable to unglue them from the boy above you as he got consumed by his own daydream. You liked seeing JJ happy. He deserved it.

“Wherever the wave takes you?” You asked, voice soft and full of adoration. 

Your voice seemed to snap him out of his stupor, the blonde looking down at you once more to find your big eyes staring at him like everything you’d ever wanted. Everything he'd ever wanted. “Wherever the waves takes us.” He corrected.

“So, that’s the plan if we were to get a ton of cash? That’s it?” You inquired. “That’s the dream? Surf trip?”

The blonde simply nodded. “Rippin’ jungle break all day long. Bamboo hut, cooking a fish on a fire, and after that, you go back out and hit the waves again.” He smiled once more to himself, dropping his hand to brush his thumb over the curvature of your jaw. “That’s the dream.” 

“Sounds perfect.” You cooed, putting one of your hands over his. Subconsciously, you let your head fall to the side, finding Kie’s eyes across the shipping container. Her own sad, brown eyes were glued where you and JJ’s hands were connected — fleeting between his featherlight touch on your jaw and your fingers on top of his. There was an indecipherable look in her eyes, a look that made your stomach turn in the worst ways.

You loved JJ. But you hated hurting Kiara. And you wonder if being in a position like this would ever get any easier.

The sound of tapping and Pope’s voice broke you from your thoughts. “Hey, hey,” He whispered, face nearly pressed against the grate. “Open it.” He instructed in a whisper, Kiara being the first one to get up in order remove the barrier, allowing the boy into the container. You and JJ stood to get closer to the two, watching as Pope climbed through the opening. 

“You need help?” Kiara offered her friend.

“I’m good.” He strained out a polite denial of the offer, landing on his feet inside the space.

“I thought Rafe got you guys for sure.” Kie worried, shoving her hands in her back pockets. 

“No, we’re chill.” Pope whispered, peeking out of the window once more before letting John B in after him, the brunette struggling a bit to climb back in. 

“All right.” You sighed, finishing your mental headcount. “Let’s put the grate back on.” You suggested as JB landed on his feet.

“No, wait.” Pope held out a hand, prompting you to wait a second. 

Your eyes furrowed at this. “What?”

“Hold on to it.” Pope instructed, eyes focused on the opening as if he was waiting for something. Or someone.

“No, put it back.” Kie urged, ready to replace the grate. Suddenly, a girl appeared in front of the square opening — a pretty, brown-skinned girl, covered in sweat. Your face immediately contorted into one of confusion upon registering her presence.

“Jesus Christ!” She whisper-shouted, taking in each of you one by one before her eyes landed on John B. “I kill you, John B!” She threatened with her accent, climbing into the shipping container as you all backed up to make room for her.

“Who is this?” Kie whispered, eyes on Pope. 

“Just relax, okay?” John B got Kie’s attention on him. “I told you I had a surprise.”

“When did you say that, exactly?” You asked, eyes permanently pinched together as you instinctively backed into JJ for comfort. 

“Who is she? What’s going on?” Kiara interrogated, voice becoming something between angry and frantic. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” John B coaxed, planting his hands on the girl’s shoulders to stabilize her. “Kie, relax.” He tried, tone lowering as he seemed to calm her. “Remember I told you about the girl we met in the Bahamas that saved us?” He asked, eyes connecting with all of yours.

“Uh…Cleo, yeah?” Kiara answered, earning a nod from John B.

Your eyes went to the girl standing on the makeshift stairs, pointing as you gained her attention with the movement. “That’s you?” You asked.

She offered a simple nod in response, allowing John B to continue talking. “She’s gonna help us.” He told Kie before turning to Cleo herself. “...Right?”

“Next time, ask me.” Cleo reprimanded your friend in a low, annoyed tone. This girl didn’t necessarily give you a bad vibe, but this seemed to be working out in your favors a little too well.

“John B.” You started, eyes on his as you jutted your head towards the back of the container and away from the group. “Can I talk to you?” The boy drew his lips into a thin line as he followed you to the back of the container, leaving the remaining four up front.

“What’s wrong?” Your friend asked impassively.

‘What’s wrong?” You asked incredulously, eyes fleeting quickly between your friends and the unknown girl as you took one step closer. “John B, we don’t know this girl. How do you know she’s actually going to help us?”

He immediately began shaking his head, his hands out in front of you to stop your ranting. “I know, it’s risky.” He assured you. “But that girl saved me and Sarah’s lives in the Bahamas. I know you guys don’t know her but I trust her.” He explained. “Do you trust me?”

You pondered for a moment, chewing the inside of your lip as your foot tapped incessantly on the floor — eyes flying back and forth between Cleo and your friends. “...You know I do.”

John B nodded, a pompous smile on his face. “Okay. So, trust me when I say that you can trust her.” He said simply.

You clenched your jaw as you eyed the girl from feet away as she conversed with your friends. 

“...Fine.” You caved, sighing and untensing your body. “But if this is a bad call, it’s your bad call.” You warned before walking away and rejoining the group as JB trailed close behind. 

“You seriously grabbed nothing?” JJ said in surprise, the group continuing the conversation you and John B had missed a chunk of. “Not even a single gun?”

John B sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned on some netting hanging from the ceiling. “We tried, okay? I got attacked.”

“This is why I should’ve gone with.” JJ sassed, shrugging from his place beside you. 

“Let me get this straight,” Cleo inserted herself into the boys' bickering. “You five, with no weapons, decided you were gonna hijack this tramp steamer on your own?” She asked, unbelievably. “Do you have any idea who these people are?” She asked, something between anger and fear in her eyes. “Eberhimi? If he catch you, he’s gonna kill you.” She warned. “Dead. Cut off ya fingers.” She exaggerated. Or...maybe not.

“Okay…” Kiara started. “What about waiting until we get to port?” She threw out. “At least then, if something goes wrong, we have a place to run.” 

“No.” Pope shook his head almost immediately. “No, we can’t do that.”

“Why?” Kiara shrugged in offense. 

“Because I’ve run the scenario over one-thousand times in my head, and our best chances are on this ship. There’s fifteen crew members and six of us,-”

“Exactly.” Kiara quipped.

“Three-to-one odds.” Pope said bluntly. “That’s the best it’s gonna get. If we wait ‘til we get there, they’re gonna trap us.”

“We have no chance.” Kiara argued with his logic. 

“No, Kie, there’s something else.” John B added. “...Ward’s alive.”

You couldn’t control the way your neck snapped in the boy’s direction, an immediate wave of confusion and pure anger washing over you. “Excuse me, what?” You spat as the rest of your friends stood frozen, waiting for John B to elaborate on just exactly what the hell he meant. 

“He’s alive, and he’s on this boat.” 

“What?” Kiara finally spoke.

“I fucking knew it.” You scoffed, overcome with disbelief as you turned away from the group, shaking your head. 

“You gotta be kidding me.” JJ scoffed.

“...Are you serious?” Pope asked in a whispered tone. 

John B just nodded despondently. “It was all a setup.” He shrugged. “Blowing up the boat, his confession to Shoupe? Think about it.” He explained. “That was to clear Rafe’s name. And he does what? Goes to the Druthers. And what’s on the Druthers?”

“Scuba gear.” You answered, voice tight as you turned back around, clicking your teeth. 

John B grimaced, tilting his head to the side. “Bingo.” 

“So, Ward’s alive, huh?” JJ started, tone indecipherable. “And he has the gold…and the cross…and Sarah.” He listed, walking to the center of the group. 

“Thanks for rubbing that in.” Kie retorted, rolling her eyes. 

“So, he’s just gonna get away with everything again, huh? Rafe, too?” He provoked, looking at each of you as he spoke. 

You immediately shook your head, a look of borderline disgust on your face. “No.” You threw out. “No, hell no.” You reiterated, tone much more firm this time. “We’re not watching this movie again. Okay? Pope? John B? Do you hear me?” You continued. “You said we need the win. You said that Pope.” You reminded the boy, taking a few steps into his space. “And with her?” You pointed to Cleo. “We’re going to the bridge, and we’re gonna take it. Are you with me?”

“...Let’s do it.” John B opted in, eyes focused on his feet as he took your words in.

“I’m with you.” Pope assured, eyes meeting yours. “And I wanna be the one to take that bridge.” He made abundantly clear.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” JJ praised, cupping your neck and pulling you in to place a quick, proud kiss on your cheek. 

“He’s gonna take the bridge?” Cleo chuckled, referring to Pope. “He couldn’t even take me.”

“Okay, first of all, I was going easy on you-” Pope tried to defend. 

“I went easy on you.” Cleo asserted herself, pointing at the boy.

You all shushed the bickering teens, careful not to be too loud. 

“Relax.” John B directed as JJ began talking, eyes on Cleo.

“If you’re really with us, if we use that knife,” He started, referring to the weapon in the girl’s hand. “We can go up into the bridge, hold it up against the captain’s neck, then we go on the intercom and make him tell the rest of the crew to meet up in the forward hull.” He explained his logic. And for once, his plan didn’t sound so bad. “Once they’re in the same place, bam, we lock ‘em in there and take back what’s ours.” 

Pope nodded, thinking about JJ’s words. “I like it.” He agreed. “It could work.”

“...Are you with us, then?” JJ pressed Cleo, stepping even closer and making unwavering eye contact with the girl. 

“No.” She said without much thought before turning to look at John B, directing her next words at him. “This is stupid.” 

“All right, let’s open these things up!” A voice boomed from outside the container, startling all of you as your gazes whipped in the same direction. 

“...They’re checking the containers.” Kiara stated the obvious. Cleo wasted no time in climbing the stair of crates and peeking outside the “window” before removing the grate. Your heart raced as you watched her quick movements — was she about to rat you all out?

“”Wait. No, Cleo.” Pope tried.

“What are you doing?” Kiara hissed. 

Cleo shushed the pair, carefully placing the large piece of metal on the ground. The five of you watched with anticipation as the girl climbed out of the window, hearing metal clanking from the outside as you presumed the men had begun to open up your crate to search next. 

“Piece of shit’s stuck.” One of the men complained. Good, you thought to yourself.

“Macias!” Cleo bellowed as her feet hit the ground, the girl disappearing out of sight for the most part. 

“She’s gonna tell them. Shit!” Pope automatically assumed the worst. 

“Hold up!” Cleo’s voice boomed from outside as you instinctively covered the opening, also assuming the worst. Until you heard her voice again. “This one’s clear, sir.” She said to the men, the sound of metal clanking from the outside coming to a halt with her words. 

“...You sure?”

“Went through it inch by inch. Nothing but tubing and plastics in there.” You all shared smug smiles of amusement. Maybe you could trust her.

“What if the stowaway had been in there?” The guy pressed.

“Well, he wasn’t, so…” She replied. “C’mon, man. We have work to do. Move your bumper, man.” She dismissed the crew member. And it wasn’t long until you heard footsteps coming back your way.

“Okay…” Pope started. “She’s on our side. That’s good.” 

“Okay, Pope, you’re up.” JJ patted his friend on the back, watching as Pope removed the metal covering once more, revealing Cleo on the other side as she whistled to signal her return. “We’ll wait for your signal, okay?” Pope nodded before turning to the girl waiting outside for him.

“Come on.” She urged, helping the boy out of the container. 

“Thanks for that, by the way.” He showed his gratitude to your new found companion, their voices still close enough to hear. “I don’t know why you did that, but I’m not gonna argue.” He told her. “...Why’d you do that?” 

“Not for charity.” Cleo told him honestly. “Just figure I’m better off with you guys than with Eberhimi.” 

“Right.”

“And now you guys owe me a cut of that treasure.” 

“...That’s fair.”

“All right.” The pair concluded. “How we takin’ over this fort, Chief?”

“...Can I borrow your knife?” Pope asked. 

“...I got a better idea.” Cleo denied. “Come on.” And that was the last of the conversation you all could hear before the sound of their footsteps retreating was heard.

ABOUT TEN MINUTES PASSED BEFORE YOU HEARD IT. 

“Attention, all passengers, all crew, report to the tween forward hull. That’s an order.” The four of you remaining in the crate, shared looks before putting your ears to walls of the enclosed space. “Repeat. All hands and all passengers report to the tween forward hull immediately.” 

There it was — Pope’s signal.

“They did it. They took the bridge.” John B smiled.

“That’s our boy. “JJ applauded, him and John B immediately removing the metal grate for what you hoped to be the last time. “Alright, we split up. Once they’re all in the hull, Y/N and I will lock them inside.”

John B nodded in agreement. “I’ll find Sarah and get the lifeboat.” He informed. 

“What about me?” Kie asked, eyes wide as they went between John B and the pair of you and JJ.

“...Come with us.” You told the girl, your eyes locked with hers. It was a silent gesture, a speechless truce — your way of letting her know that you were both okay. She nodded, a tiny smile on her lips.

“Alright.” She took the offer. 

You nodded in her direction before looking to John B. “We’ll load the cross, meet you, and get outta here.”

“Okay.” JJ gathered you all’s attention. “Let’s roll.” He led the group of you, leaning out of the window and using the barrels below to help himself out. Once he was on the ground, he turned around — hands outstretched to help you out, assistance that you gratefully accepted. John B followed after you and Kiara was the last one out.

The four of you wasted no time in bolting in the direction that Pope and Cleo had gone previously, following JJ as he led you all to the forward hull. John B had already managed to separate himself as soon as you entered the ship, quick on the start of his search to find Sarah.

You, Kie, and JJ ducked behind the walls on either side of the door when you reached the hull. You and Kie on one side, JJ on the other. You heard voices grow as the room filled with passengers and crew members.

“Hey, what the hell is this all about?”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with that stowaway, does it?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

“Psst.” JJ aimed to get your attention - your wide, adrenaline filled eyes going to him as you tried not to move a muscle. “How many?” He whispered. You and Kie took a quick glance into the hull, doing a quick count before turning back to your boyfriend as you both held up three fingers simultaneously. 

The three of you peeked, watching as the room filled with person after person. 

“What’s goin’ on, man?”

“I don’t know. Waitin’ on the captain.”

“He’s supposed to be down here.”

Over the mess of voices, one in particular caught your attention. 

“Where are we going? Where’s dad?” Wheezie? The girl’s meek voice caused you to peek further into the door, watching as the girl in question followed Rose into the hull, both of them being followed by Rafe. 

“I don’t know, Wheezie.” Rose sighed.

You watched them approach the final door to the hull, hiding back behind it in order to not be seen or spotted as Rafe paused in his tracks, whipping his head to the side, just nearly missing the sight of you three. Once you heard footsteps, you assumed he’d gone inside — taking the risk and peeking to find the family of three completely out of sight.

Turning to face JJ, you spoke as low as you could. “That’s all of the crew.”

But he shook his head. “Except Ward.” The blonde reminded you. “We need Ward.”

As much as you agreed, closing the door now was your best bet before the crew got suspicious. “We can’t wait.”

JJ seemed to sit on the thought for a moment before caving in, motioning for you and Kie to help him close the door. With no hesitation, the three of you ran inside and used all of your collective strength to push the door shut, the people inside immediately reacting to the creaking of the metal door.

“Hey!”

“Oh my God!”

Crew members began to throw themselves against the door in an attempt to keep it open and overtake you three, but you had already gained the upper hand. For the most part. Once the door was shut, you and Kie held it down while JJ locked it.

You all left out breaths of relief until you heard one of the voices on the other side.

“Check the other door!”

You, Kiara, and JJ all shared mutual looks of shock before jumping into action, running around to the other side of the hull, almost tripping over one another in the process. 

JJ himself took the lead, managing to shut and lock the door completely by himself before the men inside even had the chance. You all looked at one another, sharing the same victorious smile before going off and taking the ladder down into a lower part of the ship where the cross was being held. 

“Time to jack this loot.” JJ clapped his hands together and rubbed them together in true klepto fashion, being the first one down the ladder.  You followed his lead, watching as he stopped in front of a cloth-covered coffin. JJ didn’t wait a second before uncovering the box, revealing the cross you all had lost. “There she is.” He cooed, staring down at the golden masterpiece.

Your eyes locked with his, the two of you sharing a look. “Surf trip?” He asked lovingly. 

“Surf trip.” You winked, the two of you carrying out a complex handshake. 

However, the three of you paused — hearts jumping out of your chests when the ceiling opened up. But your fear quickly turned to relief when you made out Pope’s frame standing above you, smiles breaking out on your faces.

The pure relief in your chests prompted a chorus of laughs to ring out, eyes on the boy standing above you with unadulterated determination on his face. You all started cheering, forgetting how important discreteness was to this plan.

“Whoo!”

“Whooooo!”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Let’s go!”

You all applauded how well the plan was going. For the first time, it felt like something was going right. In your favor. Maybe the Kooks didn’t always win. Maybe the Pogues didn’t always lose. 

“The time where people do shit to us and we just sit back and take it is over.” Pope declared, standing above you all like a public figure.

“That’s my boy!” JJ praised, punching the air. “Let’s get this done, baby!” 

You three watched as Pope climbed his way to the top of the crane, seating himself and watching as the machine came to life. The trio of you got the cross ready for pick up and drop off, wrapping a loop around the cross with thick fabric, securing it. 

“Take her up, Pope!” JJ shouted from below once the large piece of treasure was ready to go. You all watched in awe as Pope used the heavy machinery to lift the gold, watching it sway violently from side to side on its way up.

“Slow, Pope!” You hollered, watching the cross nearly hit the sides of the ship. “Slowly!”

“Bring her in the middle!” Kie instructed, using the short rope JJ had tied around the bottom to help Pope guide it. Pope did as he was told, but way too fast, sending the cross flying to the middle of the opening in the ceiling, taking JJ with it.

“No! Too far!” You shouted, chasing the cross while trying to lend JJ a hand at the same time. “Too far, Pope!” 

“Sorry!” The boy shouted from the crane operating cubicle. “My bad!”

Once JJ was on his feet, you, him, and Kiara helped to guide the cross to the actual middle. 

“Hey!” A fifth voice chimed in, your heads shooting in the direction of it — watching as Cleo ran around the corner, standing above you all where Pope was just moments before. “Send it up, Pope. You got it!”

“Did John B get the lifeboat?!” Pope questioned from his place above you all.

“I don’t see him!” Cleo replied back loudly, shrugging confusedly. 

“Where’s Sarah?!” Pope questioned further as the three of you keeping the cross stabilized, the boy earning no response from the girl as she waved a hand to dismiss his interrogation.

“Hurry!” Cleo commanded. The three of you watched as Pope lifted the cross, the piece of treasure getting higher and higher in the sky. “Wow…” Cleo's eyes twinkled at the sight of the cross, this being her first time seeing the aforementioned treasure. “Send it this way.” She guided Pope.

Once those two had the cross secured to the crane — You, JJ, and Kie’s job here was done. The three of you released your hold on the cross, letting the pair of them do their task without intervention. You led your boyfriend and best friend around the corner, at the forefront of the three person line, now on your second task to meet John B.

“Clear?” Kie asked, peeking behind you. You eyed the scene left and right before nodding at her over your shoulder.

“Clear.” You assured, tip-toeing around the corner and onto the upper deck. You swiftly walked around, looking for where John B and Sarah should've been with the lifeboat. “I don’t see him.” Rounding another corner, you looked around before your heart dropped when Eberhimi, the captain of the ship, descended the stairs.

You and the man made eye contact — challenging and unwavering as he unsheathed a knife. “Of course.” He gritted through his teeth, brows set into a harsh line. “There’s more of you.” He spat, pointing the knife at the three of you. “Get down on your knees.” He ordered.

JJ was the first to speak, drawing his lips into a thin line as his head jutted to the side. “I don’t swing that way. Sorry, bro.”

“In front of my boyfriend?” You couldn’t help but chuckle — being somewhat acclimated to situations like this. “Wow, you’re bold.” You shook your head in pity. 

“Is this a joke to you?” Eberhimi squinted, looking at the group of you like you were out of your minds. “Get on your damn knees!”

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” Kiara denied as the captain’s patience came to an end, the man charging at you all, swinging his machete at all three of you as you managed to collectively dodge the attack. He swung again, to the side this time. An attack that didn’t land, again. 

JJ took the opportunity to pin the captain’s arm against the wall, rendering the older man somewhat defenseless. You and Kiara used your collective strength to replace JJ’s hold on Eberhimi’s arm, allowing your boyfriend to clock the man in his cheek. “Hit him, Y/N!” JJ directed, you giving Kiara the task of keeping the man pinned as you opened the fusebox closest to his face, slamming the door against his features. “Where’s John B?” JJ asked breathlessly, frustration growing with the aforementioned boy's absence.

“John B!” You and Kiara screamed, looking over the edge of the boat for any sign of the lifeboat. “Bree!” You continued screaming, looking back to find JJ engaged in another brawl with the captain. JJ had the upper hand for a moment — dodging hit after hit until Eberhimi managed to get him one good time in the chest, sending your boyfriend flying backwards, watching as he hit his head against the side of the ship.

“Hey!” You jumped into action, running towards the two men. “Don’t fucking touch him!” You warned, running at the man whose attention jumped to you at the sound of your rapid footsteps coming in his direction. He swung at you but you managed to dodge the swing, just narrowly missing being cut with the tip of his blade but now you were disoriented, unaware that your back was to the older man now.

“Y/N!” JJ and Kie called your name at once. You tried to stabilize yourself, turning in the direction of their voices only to come face to face with the man once more, but this time you weren’t as lucky. As you made another attempt to dodge his swing, you failed — a burning sensation blooming down the length of your thigh as his machete made a long, deep incision from the top of your thigh to right above your knee.

“Y/N!” They shouted once more, watching you get semi-mutilated as you let out a heart-wrenching screech, falling to the floor as your own blood started to pool underneath your injured leg. All you could do was sit, dry-heave, and watch as JJ quickly regained full consciousness, getting up and launching himself on to the man's back.

He managed to get the man into a chokehold and away from you, until he was elbowed in the ribs and hit under his chin — rendering the blonde unconscious and sending him flying overboard and into the water. It was like your entire world was moving in slow motion as you watched JJ fall into the water, your heart dropping to your stomach as your only focus became him.

You screamed his name as he fell, you were sure of it. But you couldn’t hear your own voice in your ears. Somewhere in your adrenaline-driven haste, the pain in your leg seemed to dissipate — pushing yourself up and onto your feet. You angry eyes found Eberhimi, limping swiftly in the man’s direction before he had time to register your movements, giving him no time to defend himself as you used your good leg to kick him savagely in the stomach before punching him mercilessly in the face, sending the man to the ground with strength you didn’t know you had.

You immediately turned your sights to Kiara, who stood to the side, shocked. “Where is he?” You asked through heavy breaths, eyes scanning the waters below for any sign of your blonde.

“Y/N, you need to-”

“Where is he?!” You repeated yourself, much less patience in your tone this time. You didn’t mean to yell at her, but JJ needed help. Why couldn’t she see that? Eyes still trained overboard, you spotted a figure floating face down, motionless. “JJ!”

You didn’t think twice — wincing as you lifted yourself up onto the edge of the boat, paying no mind to your own potentially fatal injury before jumping off into the water where you watched your boyfriend’s unconscious body float, hearing Kiara scream your name before your body hit the water.

You were under for seconds before you were able to fight your way to the top, looking around to find JJ floating limply next to you. “J…” You breathed out, struggling to swim to him — the saltwater eliciting the pain receptors in your thigh to work in tandem with your brain again. 

Despite the insufferable burning sensation in your leg, you continued to swim to JJ — scooping him up by his arms when you reached him, now able to flip him onto his back. His eyes were closed and his chest wasn’t moving, which sent you into a panic of your own. “JJ.” You tried, attempting to shake him but it was hard with the water restricting your movements. 

It was also becoming increasingly harder to keep you both afloat by yourself. “JJ, come on!” You groaned, maneuvering so you could use one hand to lightly slap his face. “J, please. Please, don’t do this to me.” You begged, letting the tears you didn’t know were forming fall down your already wet face.

Holding you both afloat was getting harder by the minute and you were sure only one of your legs was working to tread any water. An overwhelming sense of fear started to overtake you every time your chin dipped below the surface of the waves, wondering how long you could do this. “JJ, please.” You cried, sniffling. “You’re scaring me. I need you, okay?” You breathed. “I can’t lose anyone else.” You whined, crying harder by the second. “I can’t lose you.”

Suddenly, there was a splash in the water next to you, Kiara’s head popping up within seconds as she shook the water from her hair. A part of you wanted to ask her what took her so long but the other was grateful that she came down at all.

“Let him go.” She instructed breathlessly. You looked at her like she was insane, paying no mind to your own vision that was starting to spot. You were losing too much blood, you realized. But you had bigger things to worry about it. You’d be fine, you told yourself.

“No.” You shook your head, holding JJ closer to you. “No, I need to keep him above the water-"

“He’ll float.” Kiara told you, treading water. “He’s already unconscious so he won’t breathe any more water in. But if you try and hold him up, you’ll drown.”

“I’ll be fine-”

“Y/N, you have to-”

“No, I don’t!” You argued, vision going blurry as you shook your head to re-stabilize it. “I’ll keep him up until we find the others.” You told her. “I’m not letting him go.” Kiara seemed to accept her defeat, opting to share some of the burden of JJ’s weight — moving to hold up the other half of his body.

“Where’s John B?” You asked, voice slipping under.

“I - I don’t know.” Kiara sighed. “John B!” She screamed, looking around as you continuously blinked to try and keep yourself awake. “John B! Help!”

You figured all hope was lost until the sound of a boat engine rounded the corner, four blurry figures coming into view. 

“There they are!”

“JJ!”

“Kie!”

“Y/N!”

They all called your names as they got closer, the boat slowing next to you.

“No, no, no, no no…” John B repeated, taking notice of JJ’s unconsciousness.

“Why is she so pale?” Pope asked, referring to the way your skin had lost all pigment and undertones, leaving you looking like a ghost. "How long have you guys been in the water? Is she hypothermic?"

“Help me get them up.” Kiara demanded, releasing JJ to your friends as they dragged him onto the boat, laying him in the center before they began to help you up, not seconds passing before they took notice of the large, deep gash on your thigh.

“What the hell happened?” John B asked, realizing both of his long-time friends looked like they were on the verge of death.

Once all three of you were on the lifeboat with the others, you immediately pushed your way through your friends to reach JJ, despite their protests that you should sit back down. JJ was flipped onto his back, head elevated against the boat.

You began to tap the side of his face, trying to get a response once more before deciding to go further, clasping your hands together and pushing down on the center of his chest. 

“Here, let me-” Someone offered, you didn’t know who.

“No.” You said quickly. “No, I got it.” You assured weakly, but you could feel yourself slipping away, having to recenter yourself every few seconds. 

“I don’t think you do…” They tried once more, but you ignored them — involuntary or voluntary, you weren’t exactly sure. You continued pushing down on JJ’s chest until you saw droplets of water dribbling down his bottom lip, the sight only motivating to push harder until he started coughing. Only then, did you allow your movements to stop as your boyfriend coughed up whatever liquid had leaked into his lungs from the fall.

A small, weak smile crawled onto your face at the sight, the two of you locking eyes for the briefest of moments. “Hey.” You said softly, leaning back as you finally let yourself breathe. The boy looked at you tenderly before rasping out a response.

“...’Sup?” He said, trying to sound cool, sending you a sly smile before it morphed into concern. “Why are you so pale?” He asked, a hand coming up to caress your cheek.

You shook your head slowly, your eyes closing themselves as you spoke. “...’M fine.” JJ’s eyes went to his friends for answers, realizing you were losing it. Then he remembered — his eyes immediately shooting down to your thigh, the blood still leaking like a waterfall, if not faster.

“Shit.” He cursed, sitting up straighter and pulling you into him. “Help her.” He ordered, holding you tight. “Help her!” Was the last thing you heard before everything went completely black.

THE NEXT TIME YOU OPENED YOUR EYES, you were greeted with the heat and glare of the sun and a dull ache in your right thigh, grains of sand pressing into the back of your legs. Blinking your eyes open carefully, acclamating them to the rays of light, you watched as Pope, JJ, and John B drug the lifeboat to shore. A quick glance down at your thigh had you realizing someone had done their best to construct a makeshift tourniquet to help you out. 

Where you were? You had no idea. But you felt better. Somewhat, anyway.

You watched as the three boys plopped the floatation device on the sand, taking deep breaths from the labor before approaching the four of you girls sitting in the shade.

You didn’t miss the way JJ’s eyes immediately locked with yours, a grateful smile on his pink lips at the sight of you awake. He took a seat next to you, pulling you into his side and planting a kiss on your temple as you cuddled into his embrace. 

“Good to see your pretty eyes again.” He uttered, voice oddly soft and gentle.

You playfully shrugged him, not enough to disrupt his hold on you as you let out a light chuckle. “Get away from me, you flirt.” You joked before returning to a somewhat serious demeanor. “Are you okay?”

The blonde shrugged, sighing and leaning against the tree you perched up against. “Still a lil dizzy. But I’m alright.” He said simply. “How ‘bout you, princess? How’s your leg?” 

You nodded, sighing relief. “Much better.” You told your boyfriend. “Was this you?” You asked, referring to the tourniquet that seemed to be constructed from someone’s sock.

He simply shook his head, jutting out his bottom lip as he motioned his head in Cleo’s direction. “It was all her.” He smiled gratefully. “I think we can trust her. She’s saved three of our lives so far.” 

"Three?" You pondered. "Wouldn't it be four?"

"Nah." He shook his head. "You saved my life. That was all you." The praise made your cheeks go hot, burying half of your face into his chest.

Your eyes found Cleo across the sand, locking eyes with the girl. You sent a sweet smile her way, mouthing a ‘thank you’ her way. The girl simply winked and nodded at you. You had a feeling she’d fit in just fine, if she wanted to stay, that is.

“Might not want to thank me just yet, darlin’.” The girl warned, a sly smile on her face as she leaned against her arms. “We still gotta cauterize that thing.” She pointed to your thigh. “And you can’t be asleep for it.”

A look of terror made its way onto your face as you looked up at JJ, a small action that made the group laugh, a miniscule moment of lightheartedness after the unspoken loss.

“Okay,” JJ came down from his laughter. “Anybody know where we’re at?” 

“Deserted beach.” Pope shrugged, taking a seat next to Cleo. “Unknown island.”

“Alright, I’ll take that as a no.” JJ replied to Pope stating the obvious. “Plan A, huh, Pope? That went well.” JJ sassed, to which you lightly elbowed him in the side.

“This is the lowest we can go.” Pope said, sitting with his hands in his lap, hunched over. “We literally have nothing else to lose.” He laughed, humorlessly. “The cross, gone.”

“The gold, gone.” Sarah added calmly, yet sadly.

“Seriously, if we had a nickel for every time we got beat up, I’d say we’re at a dollar-fifty.” JJ threw out.

Kie shrugged, looking up at the fading cloud as the sunset. “That’s more than I got on me…”

“That somehow doesn’t make me feel better.” Sarah agreed.

“Hey, I’ve got a large coin slot on my leg if anyone wants to make donations.” You joked, earning head shakes at your morbid humor.

“Yeah,” John B finally spoke up. “You’re all right. But, I mean, we’ve…” He shrugged, eyeing all of you. “We’ve had some good stuff happen, right?” 

Pope scoffed. “Name something.”

“Um…” John B pondered, looking at the leaves of the trees. “Uh, the boiler room?” He concluded optimistically. Everyone just stared at him. “What? If the boiler didn’t explode, I wouldn’t have gotten away from Rafe. I couldn’t have gotten the Zodiac and gotten us out here.” He laid out a timeline of cause-and-effect.

“That wasn’t luck.” Cleo started, a knowing smile on her sun kissed face. “That thing was gonna blow the second I stopped feedin’ it.” 

“Stealin’ my thunder, Cleo…” John B said lowly. 

“Sorry.” The girl shrugged shortly. 

“Okay, Pope,” Your friend started again. “You’re related to Denmark Tanny.” He reminded, all of you making faces of agreement at this statement. “That’s crazy-”

“And I lost all his inheritance.” Pope said frustratedly, looking JB in the eyes. 

“...You know what?” John B stood from the log he was perched on. “Guys, this is it. This is the Pogue life.” He dreamed, walking closer to the shore. “We are in the Caribbean. It’s our own little slice of paradise. With my best friends, with my family…” He tried to reel you all in. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.” He said, eyes mainly on Sarah. “Look, and while you guys were complaining about every little thing…” He trailed, walking over to you and JJ and kneeling in front of you both. “JJ?”

“Hm?” The blonde holding you hummed in response.

John B simply pointed behind himself and smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I was looking at those burly lefts.”

JJ eyed the water that his best friend was pointing to, trying to hide the smile on his features. “There’s some slabs out there, yeah.”

“Just a few?” John B poked, diverting his attention to someone else. “Kie, you see that? I know you wanna get out there.” He continued taunting. 

“No boards.” The girl rolled her eyes, a small smirk on her features.

“Well, we can…bodysurf ‘til we make some boards.”

She sighed, leaning back. “Lame.”

“Pope?” JB moved his attention once more. “Come on, man.”

“...They do look pretty tasty.” Pope admitted, still trying to hold onto his self-pity. 

“Oh, yes, they do.” The brunette smiled. 

“There’s nobody around.” Pope observed with squinted eyes. “We could squat here for a bit. Kind of belongs to us now, huh?”

“You got a point.” You added, breaking your silence. 

“Six-way split?” Pope inquired, doing a handshake with John B. 

“Poguelandia.” JJ started in a posh accent, smiles breaking out on all of your faces as your boyfriend gently removed himself from your side and repositioned you comfortably against the tree before standing to his full height.

“Oh boy.” John B groaned facetiously. 

“I claim thee Poguelandia.” He continued, leaning his arm against a tree with his swiss army knife in hand. “I like the ring of it.” He said, voice returning to normal. “I’m gonna make a flag, it’s gonna have a chicken on it. With a coconut bra, smokin’ a J...in Crocs.” He described, eliciting small laughs from everyone as they envisioned his soon-to-be work of art.

“I could use a J.” Kiara added.

“As long as you're sharing.” You joked with the girl. "Can't turn down the injured girl. Puff puff pass."

“Can we vote on this?” Sarah smiled.

“Shall we get to work?” Pope offered, talking mainly to JB who was right next to him. 

“...Let’s get to work.” He fist-bumped his friend. “Let’s start working on provisions. Set up shop.” They planned, walking into the thick of the trees. 

“Going full pogue?” JJ asked you, offering a hand to help you up as the others stood.

You smiled, rolling your eyes at him lovingly. “Going full pogue.” You joined, voice strained as you got up, putting as little weight on your leg as possible. The seven of you walked away from where you’d been camped out, leaving your first landmark behind with an ‘X’ to mark the spot, in the shape of ‘P4L’  carved into another tree.

Whatever happened back at home, or would happen, in Kildare, it worried you. You didn’t know what was going on or what would happen days from now, weeks…Months. But it was out of your control. And you weren't sure whether you hated that or loved it. Was “Poguelandia” a final moment of rest or the first step towards you and your friends retribution? 

As you walked, you suddenly remembered a quote John B told you that he got from his dad. It was from Euripides…

“The ocean washes away all the evil men do.”

…But you weren’t sure if that was necessarily true. Maybe, the ocean doesn’t truly “wash away” anything. If anything, the ocean makes you remember.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

[munson-blurbs]

Happy Saturday! If you’re still taking requests for the 2k celebration, could I request Eddie/mall/lingerie? And happy 2k followers, definitely well deserved!

It's the return of perv!best friend!Eddie, y'all. Hold on tight.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, pet names, public sex (no one around tho), barely any foreplay because I'm lazy, friends to lovers

WC: 1.6k

--

Shopping with Eddie is like pulling teeth. First, you have to convince him to actually come to the mall with you. Then you have to continually bribe with treats from the food court just to keep him from driving off without you. Today, he’s snacking on a giant cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne’s and slurping on a root beer.

“Remind me why I need to be here again?” he whines as you compare two denim miniskirts that look identical to him, but apparently, you can spot a difference. He takes another bite of pretzel and sighs indignantly.

“Because,” you explain, exasperation evident in your tone, “I need a man’s opinion on what to wear for my date tonight, and you’re the closest thing I have.” You laugh as he playfully shoves you. “And I needed a ride, so…”

“So, basically, you’re just using me for my male gaze and my car, huh?” he asks, running a hand over a neatly folded pile of shirts on display.

“Pretty much.” you chirp, putting both skirts back on the rack. “Ugh, this is hopeless! I’m never gonna find something.” You blow out a big breath, puffing your cheeks. “One more store and then we can go home, I promise.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but dutifully follows behind you, taking the opportunity to check out the way your shorts perfectly hug your ass. He feels a twitch in his pants as your hips sway back and forth, and he wills himself to look away.

Unfortunately, in his pursuit to keep himself from popping a boner in the middle of the Starcourt Mall, his gaze lands on the entrance to a lingerie boutique. The mannequin out in front is adorned with a red lace teddy that leaves nothing to the imagination. His eyes dart back to you, and all he can think about is you wearing it. But not for your date with whatever schmuck you’re going out with tonight; no, Eddie wants you to wear it for him. In his bed, straddling his waist, grinding on his–

“Shit,” he mutters. He thinks his voice is low enough to keep you from hearing, but he cringes as you swivel around to see what the problem is, catching him trying to discreetly adjust himself over his jeans.

“You okay–oh,” you giggle, taking notice of his predicament. “Careful, Casanova; y’might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.” You put your forearm on his shoulder and rest your chin on top of it, making him tense up even more. “Who are you picturing in that? Chrissy Cunningham? Tammy Thompson?” Before he can answer, you press on. “Ooh, or maybe a supermodel, like Cindy Crawford or Iman? C’mon, who is it?”

“What if I was picturing you?” Eddie tries to play off his words teasingly, but the raw lust blowing out his pupils gives him away. 

Biting your lower lip, you can taste the gloss you’d applied earlier. Every time Eddie jokes with you like this, pretending he wants you, it kills you inside. “Do you think I should try it on?” You look at him innocently, batting your eyelashes as you call his bluff. “Y’know, for Kyle tonight?”

At the mention of your date’s name, Eddie shrugs your arm off of him. “No,” he growls, hooking a ringed finger through your belt loop, “want you to try it on for me.” There’s no hiding his hardness now, and you can feel his heart beating faster as he draws closer to you. He swallows thickly, waiting for your response. 

You’re too stunned to speak. Eddie has always been a flirt, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, but he’s your best friend. There’s no way he seriously wants to see you in lingerie, right?

“O-Okay,” you manage, turning towards the store. Eddie intertwines his pinky with yours as though ensuring he won’t lose sight of you. You find the teddy in your size and bring it into the dressing room. To Eddie’s dismay, you yank the velvet curtain closed. He tilts his head slightly, trying to find a gap wide enough to get a glimpse of you changing. He can just imagine you shimmying out of your clothes and into the sheer lingerie. 

Fuck it. 

Careful not to expose you to a customer passing by, Eddie slips into the room, resting his hands on your waist as you examine yourself in the mirror. The lace clings to your body, hugging your curves in all the right ways. You can feel his hard length pressed up against the back of your naked thigh. 

“Eddie,” you breathe out, trying to ignore the fluttering below your belly, “what are you doing?”

“Tell me something, princess,” he says, purposefully ignoring your question, “I pictured you putting this on, but who did you picture taking it off?” He waits for what seems like an eternity, silently praying that Kyle’s name doesn’t pass through your lips.

You turn to face him, letting his strong hands fall below the curve of your ass. “You, Eddie. Always you.” As soon as you give your answer, Eddie’s mouth crashes onto yours. He brings one palm to cup your cheek while he kisses you hungrily, moaning lightly with each flicker of his tongue against yours. He guides you to the wall, palming your breasts through the minimal covering.

Eddie nudges his knee between your thighs, brushing against your sensitive sex, and you moan involuntarily. “Oh, baby,” he coos, chuckling at your reaction to his touch, “so needy, aren’t we? I bet you’re already soaking wet. Almost pathetic how desperate you are f’me, huh?” You want to fire back with a witty retort about how he was the one who wanted you in lingerie; he barged into the dressing room while you were changing, but you can’t string words together to form a sentence. Instead, you nod dumbly, making him laugh again. “Don’t worry; I’ll tell you a little secret.” He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about your sexy little body in one of these. Not even the first time today, actually.” 

With that, your fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it as deftly as you can, and tug his pants and boxers down his thighs. His throbbing cock thwacks against his torso, leaving a pre-cum stain on his shirt. He hisses at the sudden relief, using his own fluids as lube to pump himself. You start to get onto your knees, but he stops you.

“If you put your mouth on me, ‘m never gonna last,” he warns with a smirk. “That’ll be for next time, yeah?” The promise of a next time excites you even more, and you allow him to hoist you up against the wall, pushing aside the lace as he runs his cock along your slick folds. “Y’ready?” His eyes are wide; though he wants nothing more than to be inside you, but only if you want to. When you nod, his smile exposes his soft dimples. “Thas’ my girl.” 

My girl my girl my girl. The words swirl through your brain as Eddie pushes his mushroom tip into you. The stretch is a mixture of pleasure and pain, melting into only the former as he slowly ruts up into you, allowing you to take a bit more of him each time.

Eddie’s never had sex this good before. You dig your fingernails into his back as your pussy clenches around him; he feels himself growing even harder inside you. He grabs the plush of your ass as he quickens his pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.

“Goddamn,” he groans, nearly whimpering as you tug on his hair. “Your body was meant for me, baby. Takin’ me so well, like you were made for my cock.” 

“I was m-made for you,” you echo, feeling your body tremble with delight. “Eddie, Eddie, oh, fuck, Eddie!” You lean your head back, exposing your throat and giving him the perfect angle to suck a bruise just above your collarbone.

Eddie chants your name, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he leaves more hickeys. “Can’t hold back much longer,” he confesses, trailing his tongue over the fresh set of love bites, but he keeps the same rhythm that’s driving you wild. “Wanna get my princess off before I do, though.”

“K-Keep going until you c-cum, please,” you beg him, “just like that.” You bring your middle finger down to your clit, rubbing deliberate circles until you feel your orgasm wash over you. “Yes, Eddie. I’m cumming, cumming for you…feel s’good.”

Bucking his hips harder and chasing his release, Eddie is a panting mess. “Shit–gonna cum, gonna cum in-inside you, fuck.” His hot seed coats your walls as he cries out your name one last time. He gently pulls out of you, leaving cum dripping down your leg while you struggle to regain your balance.

“Looks like we ruined it,” he offers, motioning to the lingerie. There’s tears along the crotch where he roughly moved the fabric, and the mixture of your releases is starting to leave a stain. He tears off the price tag and crumples it, tossing it to the floor. “Put your clothes on over it, hmm? It’ll be our little secret.” He pauses, giving you a mischievous smirk. “Unless you wanna tell Kyle tonight?”

You shake your head. “No. No Kyle. Only you.” Honestly, you’d forgotten all about your date until Eddie just reminded you. “Gonna cancel so we can do…that again.” And hopefully again and again and again.

Eddie throws his arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, “now that I’ve got you, we’re not stopping until that little number is completely destroyed.”

--

[hanmaitani]

Only Us

PAIRING - Togame Jou x Reader WC - 7.5K GENRE - smut CW - implied unprotected sex, implied creampie, super possessive, um im insane and this is indulgent SYNOPSIS - togame jou had no business being acquainted with you but it was just in good fun. a game he liked to play, prying for your attention. your connection to one of bofurin's members, your best fiend, made it that much more thrilling for him.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

You were much too close to the edge of Bofurin’s territory, skirting along the line between it and another, a place your best friend had forbidden you from going. You really sucked at listening to directions. You tugged at the collar of your borrowed jacket, trying to get it to cover you more when a sudden cold wind blew through the tunnel as you arrived at it.

It’s dim in the tunnel, the underpass beneath the railroad tracks is decorated in shadows and graffiti. It’s much different than the walls just beyond it, in Bofurin territory. Emerald eyes lurk from those shadows, a dead-eyed gaze that’s shadowed further by orange sunglasses, scanning the entrance as he leans against the wall. Looking for you.

Togame Jou had no business being acquainted with you but it was just in good fun. A game he liked to play, prying for your attention. Your connection to one of Bofurin’s members, your best friend, made it that much more thrilling and dangerous for him. It was intoxicating.

You catch sight of him only a second after he does you, the orange Shishitoren jacket hanging over his broad shoulders giving him away. He’s already pushing off the wall, sauntering forward and towards you, steps that echo against the concrete breaking the otherwise silent area.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Bofurin,” he drawls in a deep voice and it seems to rumble in your ears. There’s amusement in his tone at his own nickname for you, his eyes lingering on the green that curls around your shoulders. “You miss me?”

You scoff lightly at him but take a step into the tunnel anyways, officially out of Bofurin territory. “Now why would I ever miss the likes of you, Togame?” You try to match his amusement with your own indifference, but your voice seems to uptick slightly on the form of your final pronoun, your wandering eyes giving away your nervousness. You shouldn’t be out of Bofurin territory, and yet you’re still walking further into Shishitoren territory. Into Jou’s territory.

Jou ignores your blatant show of nerves, his eyes instead twinkling with mischief at how you try to play his game. “Because my charm and good looks are so hard for you to resist, of course,” his smirk widens as you are finally enveloped in the shadows with him. It’s a lazy sort of grace that he exhibits as he moves closer, aiming to narrow the gap between you. You don’t assist him anymore.

“I can see right through your little act, y’know,” he drawled slowly, the low rumble sending shivers down your spine as if his fingers brushed there.

“There’s no act.”

Jou only ignores you. “You’re trying to pretend you don’t care, you almost do a good job.” He chuckles and it’s a low thing that should set off your instincts to run, but it only roots you in your place. “I can see the way you look at me.”

“I don’t look at you at all, actually.” You’re lying through your teeth and you both know it. If you truly didn’t look at him then you wouldn’t be here now. You wouldn’t be watching him walk too slowly towards you right then.

“Oh?” Jou’s smirk only seems to widen more. “Is that so?” He knew it was a lie just as much as you did, but he wanted to play along. He wanted to see how far he could push those boundaries you’d put up before you chose to tear them down for him.

His eyes trail at a tantalizing pace over the curve of your body, finding a new place to focus on with every step he takes closer to you. “You are a terrible liar, y’know.” His amusement drips from his tongue as his eyes land back on your face, where you’re already burning from being under his gaze. “I can see it in those eyes,” you blink a few times as if that will rid you of the desire in them, “the way your body tunes into my voice,” as if on cue, another wave of goosebumps raise along your legs. “You can’t hide it from me.”

“I could if I wanted to.” You counter, trying to sound confident as your body basks in the heat of his gaze.

Jou is only one step away now, his proximity sending a rush of adrenaline through both of your bodies. “Is it a challenge?” His deep voice dips down to a whisper, shared only in the space between you and him. “I like my women with a little fire.” He teases as he closes the remaining distance, stopping a mere inches away and forcing you to tip your head back to see him.

His height makes him feel like he’s towering over you, broad body radiating control and intoxicating confidence. From this distance, you can see his eyes behind his sunglasses, peering over your body, inspecting you. “Should we test how well you can hide your desires?”

You hold yourself steady against his amusement. “A test?” You tease back at him. “If I wanted to be in school then I’d be there, Togame, not here.”

Jou chuckled at that, a low and rumbling sound just for you that sent a delicious feeling down your spine. “Feisty as always.” His hand reached out, slow enough that you could have swatted it away, if you wanted to. Instead, you let his calloused fingers slide beneath your chin, lifting it to fully parallel your faces. “Well you are here. So tell me,” his whisper has his warm breath mingling with your own, fanning over both your faces, “what is it you’re truly craving right now?”

You hum to give him the impression that you’re thinking of an answer. You’re trying to not smile but he can see the form of it playing on the corners of your lips in how they twitch. You’re intent on testing his boundaries for the day, to see how far he’ll let you take the teasing. “Food?”

Jou can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. He lifts his glasses to the top of his head, exposing to you the amusement in his green eyes as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Food?” He repeats your answer and you nod, telling him you were serious. He knows you’re not. “Interesting,” his lips quirk back into a smirk, “I was thinking of something…” you catch his eyes on your lips before they start to lazily drag back up, “a little bit sweeter.”

It’s your eyes that stray now, flicking down to his lips as his tongue wets his bottom lip. His movements are effortless as his lips move to hover right over yours. “Care to change your answer?” The warmth of his breath is intoxicating against your lips and you can’t seem to drag your eyes away from how his lips form the words.

You try not to let him see the blush in your cheeks as you answer him. “What were you thinking of?” Your breath is breathier than you intended it to be and you can feel your air bounce of his lips and back onto yours as you speak.

Jou leans in more, just slightly, so that if he were to purse his lips they would touch yours. He doesn’t but you swear that you can feel them as they move. “You,” the new distance forces you to look back up at his eyes, unable to watch his lips anymore, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice is soft, husky as it fills the space around you both.

His hand left your chin and moved to the small of your back, nestling between your shirt and your jacket to pull your body closer until it fully pressed against his. His warmth engulfed your body and it was like all the tension between you intensified.

“Admit it,” he pried, “you feel what I feel, don’t you?”

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his body flush against yours. Electricity flooded your senses as you stared up at him. “He’d kill me if I ever admitted that.” You didn’t have to clarify who ‘he’ was. Jou knew which Bofurin boy your best friend was. “Would kill you too, for that matter.”

Your information only seems to make Jou’s eyes gleam more, his smirk widening. “It’s a good thing he’s not here then,” his fingers toy with your jacket, “huh?” His hand on your back drifted lower, tracing a slow path down to your backside. “We’ll just have to keep this our little secret.” There’s a danger lurking in his words, one that you know you’ve already stepped into once you stepped into the shadows of Shishitoren territory. “Unless you’d like to risk letting him know how… captivated you are.”

“I’m not that captivated.” You try to stand your ground against him, yet even as you say it, your eyes won’t leave how his lips form his taunts, you can’t look away from him.

“Care to prove it?” It was his turn to challenge you, a seductive smirk drawing you in more. “I dare you,” he coaxes, hand sliding to graze over the curve of your ass, “to prove it.”

“I can prove it,” you don’t think before the whisper leaves you, “that I’m not affected by you.” But your eyes are half-closed, and your words don’t have the conviction you wish that they did. “Name the game and I’ll play it.”

Jou’s smirk widened into a full grin at your response. “Simple,” his voice is a soft, breathless thing as he burns with desire, “we’ll see who kisses who first. Whoever initiates, loses. You in?”

You smiled then, letting your own competitiveness take over. You pulled back just enough to watch your hands place themselves on his chest, fingers brushing along the lines of the fabric there. You drew your eyes back up to his, making sure to bat your eyelashes with a sly smile. “Only if you’re ready to lose.”

The way your fingers caressed his chest only fueled Jou’s need for you. He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Lose?” He chuckled softly, leaning into your touch. “It’s on.” He reclosed the distance that you’d made so you could breathe each other’s air again. Air thick with tension.

“So, what’s your first move?” You can’t take the heavy silence of just staring into his eyes, but when you mumble the words, you can barely keep your lips from brushing. You tilted your head, eyes trying to flick between his eyes and lips. “Since you’ll be the first one to make it, that is.”

His smirk only widens at your challenge, as he watches your eyes flicker. His movements are slow, deliberate as he leans just ever-so closer. His nose touches yours as he speaks. “You always talk such a big game sweetheart, but can you handle the heat?”

Your hands move over his chest, sliding up and over his shoulders, connecting together behind his neck. He nearly growls as he feels your fingers twitch there, moving to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m handling the heat just fine,” you breathe back, brushing your nose against his. “I haven’t broken and kissed you quite yet have I?” You let out an amused huff of air, and his lips part ever so slightly to let it in. “Can you handle the heat? Jou?”

He lets out a shaky breath as you form his given name. “I can handle the heat.” His voice is quiet, breathy and rough in your ears as he says it. You’re not sure whether to believe him or not. You can feel him smirking and you nearly roll your eyes, but you can’t tear them away from his long enough.

And then his voice drops lower, you didn’t think it was possible, but it vibrates the air and your body as it does. “Break and kiss me, I dare you to.”

Your heart starts in your chest and your legs clench at the sound, your ears focusing in on the near growl of his voice, but you stand your ground. “I’m not falling for a dare like that. I won’t surrender that easily.”

Jou’s gaze seems to turn predatory at the sound of the word. He moves quickly, nose brushing yours and you’re sure he’s going to kiss you, but he moves further, head turning to his lips graze your ear. “Don’t think of it as surrender,” he whispers it and your spine straightens out from the electricity that shoots down it, “it’s more like submission.”

His movements then are sudden, much different to the slowness he had been moving with as he changes your positions. You’re a few feet away from where you just were, his strong hand placed on the wall just next to your face, the wall where he has now pinned you firmly. Your back is all too aware of the cold, hard surface behind you, curving over your heads as Jou looms over you, emerald eyes almost glowing in the dark as he takes you in.

Your head is forcibly tilted up to him from the position, your fingers still tangled in his hair. You felt like you were shrinking under him there. “Jou…” you breathed his name, trailing off as your wide eyes looked up at him.

His breath hitches at the sound of his name so breathless on your lips. His hand, previously on your back, drifts up to find your face. Calloused fingers graze your cheekbone and a possessive growl slips from his throat as your face subconsciously presses into his touch, seeking his warmth.

“What are you going to do now? Hm?” His question registers somewhere in your mind, but you’re dizzy. Your lips sigh, your chest heaving a bit in anticipation. Your fingers tighten lightly in his hair and he responds with an involuntary moan.

His hand on your face leaves, falling to the wall on the other side of your face, effectively caging you in. A swirl of passion and danger swims behind the green of his eyes as he leans in slowly, voice low and intoxicating. “I should warn you,” he murmurs, bringing his lips close to yours again, “I’m not a patient man.”

You chuckle softly in response, your lips brushing his as they part to do so, “Aren’t you all about taking things slowly, Jo? You’re nothing but patience.” Your tongue pokes out to wet your lips as you hold his eye contact, touching his lips subtly as you do so.

Jou’s breath hitches again as he feels your tongue brush against his lips. His fingers flex against the wall, restraint slipping. “You think I have an endless supply of patience?” His breath is warm on your skin and you swear you can see his eyes darkening in the shadows, pupils widening as he stares at you. “I’m not immune to temptation.” The cadence of his voice sets heat to your core as he burns into you. “You test my limits.”

“Isn’t that the point of this game?” You tease him. “To test limits. Make it impossible for the other to resist anymore?” Your nails scratch lightly at the base of his neck, trying to break him before he breaks you.

The sensation of your nails sends shivers down Jou’s spine, his resolve crumbling. He tries to maintain his composure, hands tightening against the wall. “You will be the death of me.” His breathing is ragged as he confesses it. “But damn, if that isn’t the sweetest way to die.”

He steals your breath as he finally closes the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips with his own. You pull back with a gasp, enough to mumble a taunt against his lips.

“I believe this is a loss for you, Jou.”

Jou’s laugh is husky and deep, his voice matches as he brushes his lips to yours again. “This is no loss for me sweetheart.” A small growl escapes him again as his fingers tangle in the hair at the back of your head, pulling you back in for a deeper kiss. He was showing you that he was still in control of your game. That regardless of the rules previously set, it was still going on.

You whimpered at his grip on you as his tongue brushed your lips. You grant him the access he wants without hesitation, welcoming the intensity as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth. The taste of him is intoxicating, dangerously sweet and it makes heat pool up in your abdomen.

Your hands left his hair, clutching at his shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscles there as you tried to keep yourself steady between him and the wall, your knees feeling weak. You didn’t expect him to be as all-consuming as he was, so utterly addicting. You could feel more of your control slipping the more he kissed you.

You wanted more. More of his kisses. More of his hands in your hair. More of how his tongue brushed against yours. More of him.

“Jou.” You whimpered his name into his mouth, the form of it slurred from refusing to keep your lips from his anymore.

The sound of it, breathy and pleading, seemed to only fuel Jou’s desire. He pressed his body closer to you, erasing any space between you. His tongue danced with yours, fingers tugging on your hair harder, body pinning you against the wall. Everything done with the heat of a possessive claim.

He broke the kiss, but only for a moment so his lips could find somewhere else to touch you. His lips now traced a heated path down your neck, claiming you there too. “Take this off.” The green fabric belonging to your best friend fluttered to the floor before you registered that his hands had even pulled the jacket off of you. His tongue against your neck distracted you from any protests you might have had. “Mine,” he growled possessively against your skin.

The word sets something off inside of you. Your eyes close in serenity, in surrender, focusing only on how his lips feel against your skin. “Say it again, please.”

His voice rumbles in your ear as his lips leave trails of electrifying heat. He answers your plea. “Mine.” The possessive word surrounds you. “You’re mine. To consume. To claim.” Each word is paired with his teeth grazing your skin. Exhilarating and overwhelming as he stakes his claim. “Now say it back,” he demands quietly, breathing ragged, “tell me.”

You’re panting, your heart rate irregular as he claims you with his mouth, his hands, his words. “I’m yours, Jou.” Every touch was setting your nerves alight. “You can claim me. I’m yours.”

Jou pulls back to take in the look on your face, your flushed cheeks and heaving chest. His feral grin widens at the sight and he curses softly. “Good girl,” he praises you, approval coating his lips as they find yours again, hungry for you. His hands are on your hips now, tugging them closer, claiming you with explosive heat in the middle of the cold tunnel.

“Mine,” he mumbles it against your lips and you seem to feel it more there, the air thick with his possessiveness over you. “Say it again.” It was nearly a beg as he groaned around it.

“Yours.” You moaned the word into his mouth, letting his body press into yours against the wall, knowing you were still out of sight from any possible prying eyes. “I’m yours,” you gasped them this time as his grip tightened. The gasp turned into a small moan as your body reacted to him, lifting onto your toes to get closer.

He reacts to every one of your reactions. A growl escaping in response to your moans. Grip tightening in your hair and on your hip in response to you lifting up to him. He’d known he wanted you but he hadn’t expected his desire to feel so intense when he finally had you.

He had to break the kiss for a moment, if not to just breathe. His eyes locked with yours, filled with need. “You know what you’re doing to me right? I can’t resist you when you moan like that.”

You were trying to catch your breath too, your thoughts focusing on how his hand ran up and down over the curve of your hip. “I thought we stopped trying to resist each other.”

“You’re right.” His lips found yours again, stealing away the breath you’d just caught. “Resisting you is a lost cause and I don’t want to anymore.” His hand trailed from your hip, across your back, to your other hip so he could grab you and keep you pinned to him rather than just the wall. “I want you. All of you.”

You whined against his lips, pressing into the kiss more to try and muffle the sound. “You have me. All of me.” You repeated his words back to him, fingers again finding the hair at the base of his neck, letting your nails scrape against his scalp as you tugged on the strands. “All you have to do is take me.”

The combined feeling of your nails and your words sent a jolt of electric possessiveness coursing through Jou’s veins. He effortlessly lifted you up, pinning you to the wall again as your legs instinctively wrapped around him. His hands explored your curves with a new sense of urgency, as if wanting to claim every inch of you right here and now.

The feeling of your hips pressed so tightly down onto his had your breath shuddering. “Don’t hold back anymore, Jou,” you encouraged.

He was still holding on to that last sliver of self-control as his grip found your thighs and tightened. “You’re playing a dangerous game, now.” It was a warning, that he didn’t want to hold back anymore, that he was ready to take what he wanted if you gave your consent. “You know what happens if I stop holding back, right?”

Your teeth nipped at his lower lip and he growled in response. “Tell me then.” You knew you were playing with fire, you just didn’t mind getting burned if it came from him.

Something carnal flashed behind his eyes as his grip tightened even more, leaving a delicious stinging sensation in the soft flesh of your thighs. “I’ll devour you.” It sent shivers down your spin. What a way to go. “No holding back, no hesitation. Intense and insatiable. I won’t stop until I’ve had my fill of you.”

You moaned softly, pulling at his lower lip again. “Do you fantasize about me, Jou? About this?” You scrape your nails along the back of his neck, reveling in the shaky groan he gives you before you brush them back into his hair to tug softly. “Do you have images of this in your head when you try to sleep at night?”

His heart is racing, his voice escaping in a needy whisper, “yes.” His admittance is filled with desire as he drinks in your attention. “I fantasize about this. About you. The things we could do together. When I sleep, I see you in my dreams. I crave you, raw and unfiltered.”

You reclose the gap between your lips, groaning into his mouth as you tug on his hair again, craving another one of his reactions. “I want you to tell me every thought. Every raw and unfiltered way you need me. Intense and insatiable.” You repeat his phrases back to him and can see him let go of that last sliver. “I hope you never get your fill of me.”

Jou’s lips move to graze your ear as he delivers what you ask. “I want you in every way possible. To worship you with my hands and my mouth. To explore every inch of your body. I want to make you feel things no one else could even dream of making you feel. Want you to scream my name until it’s the only word you remember.” Possessiveness, desire, need. It all flowed out of his words and into your ear, filling you with the same heat he was feeling. “I’ll never get my fill of you, sweetheart.”

“Jou?” You kissed him again. “Make your name the only thing I remember.”

His resolve shattered like glass. The green jacket you’d worn into the tunnel lay abandoned on the ground - sure to cause problems later - as he dragged you from the shadows and deeper into Shishitoren territory. He paused every few blocks to press you into another wall and kiss you, hands scraping against your skin as he led you to the Ori.

You’re unfamiliar with the area he’s led you to, a small room hidden out of sight that he’s seemed to make into his private room. Only a bed and a dresser in the room, but private and off limits to anyone else.

“Let’s see if you can handle what I have in store for you.” He teases, hands brushing along your waist.

“I can handle anything that you give me,” you challenge. “Make me forget everything else.” You cling to him, keeping your body pressed completely to his. “Nothing matters but you.”

He kicks the door shut without looking, the lock clicking to seal you both into a world where only you and he existed. A sanctuary to forget and let go of everything else.

“Prove it.” He sets you down on the bed, breath ragged as he towers over you. He pushes his glasses off his head and the clatter to the floor somewhere.

“Touch me, Jou,” you command, pulling him closer with a grip on his jacket, “and don’t stop.”

His body ached at your demand, lest overtaking him as he captured your lips in a feral kiss that made your head spin. His hands roamed your body urgently as your hands stripped him of his jacket. He tossed the fabric aside, forgetting it instantly as he focused on you and you alone.

His kisses trailed down your neck, teeth nipping at your skin and marking it as his. He left trails of desire in his wake that seeped into your skin. His hands worshiped your curves, memorizing the shape of you beneath his fingers. Your breathing stuttering and hitching, whines leaving your lips and filling the air every time that he left another mark on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I want all of you Jou, all of you.”

His breath was hot against your skin as he possessively traced the curve of your waist. “Are you sure? There will be no more going back.”

You grabbed his hand and guided his fingers lower, to the bare skin of your torso, just under the hem of your shirt. “I won’t ask to go back.”

Carnal need flashed in his eyes as he felt your bare skin, cold against the heat and desire of his fingertips. “You asked for it,” he breathed, a reminder. Deliberate slowness propelled his movements, beginning his exploration of you. His fingertips traced along your curves under your shirt this time, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

His kisses became more fervent, more passionate, his tongue darting out to taste and savor you. He was deliberate in how he stripped your clothes from your body, gaze never breaking away so he could drink in every new inch of your exposed form.

Your skin heated under his every touch and gaze, a flash flood of insecurity and embarrassment flooding your system as you laid bare in front of him. Your chest still heaved, panting as need for the man hovering above you coursed through your body.

It was like Jou could sense your underlying insecurity and hesitation, so he took a moment, to really study you. You waited anxiously but his gaze only filled with an adoration that chased away your shadows of doubt. “You are beautiful.” Genuine admiration coated his tongue as his hands brushed over the expanse of your torso. “Every inch of you is stunning.”

His touch was gentle but insistent as he brushed over every dip and curve, eyes looking at you like you were a feast laid out just for him. “Let me explore you, let me worship you with every fiber of my being.” His lips curve under your jaw to press a kiss, hearing you gasp as his fingers trail the curve of your breast.

“I’m always so conscious of every move I make around you.” Your confession comes as your eyes flutter shut, your body canting up and into every touch on your skin. “How I look, how I talk. If I breathe the wrong way.”

He listens dutifully to your confession, his lips trailing the side of your neck as he makes a path to your ear. “There is nothing wrong with you,” he mumbles the reassurance, “you’re beautiful inside and out. Your every move, every breath, every word. All of it is perfect.” His touches become more tender, hands trailing down your body with reverence. “Let me show you how I adore every part of you.”

Your breath hitches and your back arches off the bed, your bare chest pressing to his as you wind your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as his compliments ring in your ears. “Show me, please.”

Jou’s own breath staggers at the way your body arches into his and your breath turns ragged. Desire and possessiveness for you intensifies and he wastes no time in fulfilling your request. His touches become ravenous, lips trailing your neck with a growl as his hands grip at your curves you with a newfound urgency, pulling your body impossibly closer, eager to worship and consume each part of you.

“You have no idea,” he growled against your skin between kisses, raw desire slipping through the cracks in his voice, “the things I want to do to you.”

“Do them,” you encourage him, “leave marks down my neck, down my body, so they all know I’m yours.” You tug on his hair again, redirecting his mouth to yours so you can kiss him deeply, moaning your final request into his mouth. “I’m yours, show me how you make me yours.”

His eyes flashed with desire, hands roaming lower. An animalistic groan rumbled out of him as his kisses grew rougher, teeth nipping at your skin again. He left possessive marks in his wake as his hands teased and caressed, tracing intricate patterns along your sensitive skin. “As you wish, I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

His lips trailed over your cheeks, your jaw, your neck and your collarbone. Light kisses and rough bites, sloppily sucking skin between his lips. The mix of feelings sent shivers down your spine. Every mark left a whispered word of desire and devotion to fill your ears, “Mine,” he murmured, “all mine.”

All you could do was parrot the words back each time he made the claim, “all yours, Jou.” Whines and pleas mixed into your panting breaths as he moved across your body, lips attaching to your chest now. Every moan from you set Jou’s control further away.

“You’re mine,” he said again, “every inch of you belongs to me.”

“Every single inch,” you confirmed. “Jou,” you breathed his name, your own needs surfacing, “tell me you’re mine too. Please.”

He pauses for a moment, head lifting so his eyes can lock onto yours. “I’m yours.” It’s said with a sincerity that leaves no doubt behind it. “Every part of me belongs to you.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer keeping your body flush with his. “You own me, heart and soul,” his lips brush against your ear as he whispers it, pairing the confession with a soft scrape of his teeth against the lobe of your ear, “and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Tenderness and adoration, a shared ownership of each other.

You squirmed at the intensity of his words, whining when his clothes rubbed roughly against your bare skin. “Every part of you.” It was your turn to let your lips wander. Kissing along his jaw, you suckled a bit of skin just under it to leave a small mark of your own on his skin. “Heart, body, and soul.”

A low, primal sound echoed out of Jou’s throat at the feel of your mark on his skin. One hand quickly gripped your chin as he brought your lips back to yours. He possessively claimed another kiss from you as his hands fumbled to remove the rest of his clothing, wanting nothing more than to be even closer to you. To feel you, skin on skin.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, voice heavy with desire as he pressed you back into the mattress, “all of me.” His desire to proclaim himself as yours was nearly as great as his desire to claim you as his.

Your lips left his to attach to another section of his neck, marking there too as your nails raked down his neck, past his shoulders and to his biceps where they found home in his flesh. “I’m yours, Jou. Have me.”

His body responded to your touch readily, leaning into the marks you left, a low groan escaping at the feel of your nails digging into his arms. “I will,” the sound sounding like both a promise and a plea.

He made true to his word, hands worshiping your body, pinching and groping in all the right places as they travel to where you need him the most. His chest swells with pride and possessiveness as he feels how wet you are for him, your gasps only fueling him more.

“You’re mine,” he growls again, thoughts gone from his clouded mind as all he can focus on is you, you, you. His need only escalated as he reached for himself, guiding himself into you in a single, swift, fluid motion.

The roughness of his thrust and sudden stretch had your brain going fuzzy. All that surrounded you was the possessive growl of “mine” filling your ears once more.

You could feel the press of his lips onto yours again, feral and ravenous as he devoured the gasps and moans you released into his mouth. Pure ecstasy flowed between you as he pulled back only to cant his hips forward again.

Devotion poured from him into you. “Mine always.” He murmured, barely keeping his voice intelligible.

“Yours,” you promised back when you found your voice again through your pants and whines, “always yours, Jou.”

His thrusts picked up in response, rougher and more passionate. A growl came from his chest as his grip on your hips tightened, bringing you up to meet his thrusts. He caught your eye contact and locked onto it. “Mine, I’ll never let anyone else have you.” His pace quickened, breath coming in ragged gasps as he moved inside you. "I will never let you go."

“Promise it to me,” you begged, gasping for air as one of your hands traveled lower down his arm, towards his hand, needing it in your own, “promise you won’t let me go.” 

His grip on you tightened immediately, his thrusts pausing so his hand could find yours, the one you needed to hold. He intertwined your fingers tightly, devotion leaving his lips as he pressed them to the tips of your fingers. “No one, nothing,” he kissed gently, eyes staying on yours, “will come between us, I promise you.” You melted under his touch and his gaze. “You’re mine and I’m yours.” He resumed his previous pace and intensity, showing just how deeply he meant it.

Your eyes fluttered shut, hand gripping onto his tightly to ground yourself. Your leg wrapped around his waist, hips lifting to give him more access. Your free hand found his cheek, guiding his lips back to yours, intent on swallowing every sound he made and having him swallow yours.

Jo groaned into the kiss, his movements leaving you breathless. His own grip on your hand tightened as his need grew more intense. Shared sounds of your pleasure and need filled the air of the small room. “I’ve wanted you so badly.”

“You have me.”You couldn’t tell whose breaths were whose now, each of you breathing in the air of the other. You were dizzy and enveloped by only him. The soft sheets of his bed beneath you. The hard press of his body above you. His hand in yours. His body merging with his. “You have me, Jou.”

His breath hitched, hearing the words leave your lips. His movements grew more eager, fingers finding your hair, curling into it as he pressed his forehead to yours, no longer able to keep up with the kissing. You both panted into each other’s mouths as his eyes coaxed yours to make contact again.

You whined when his hand tugged on your hair again, your lips whispering prayers of his name as you looked into his eyes. You wanted to look away, the intensity too much for you, but you couldn’t. You wanted to bathe in his attention.

Jou revels in the reaction his gaze has on you, taking advantage of how your head tilts, exposing your neck to him again. He breaks your gaze to kiss at your neck, hot breath against your skin, sloppily trailing kisses and love bites down the scorching line of your throat. He relished in the sound of your whimpers and prayers, lips falling to your chest, marking every inch of skin he could reach.

Every brush of his lips held another affirmation of his love, “you’re so beautiful.” He groaned praises in between kisses, moans of your name accompanying it. You panted and gasped in response, his own name continuing to fall from your lips in desperation, breathy sighs and ecstasy that only spurred him on.

He touched you with adoration, every new noise he drew from you creating an addictive symphony that sent electricity down his body. His body picked up pace, moving against yours in a deadly rhythm that matched the wild pounding of your heartbeats. Both of your breathing was ragged, needy as you teetered on the edge of ecstasy.

His urgency only grew, intoxicating as his fingers delved back into your hair, tilting your head further, opening your neck to him more. His grip tightened slightly, the right amount of pressure as he pressed your body close to his, lips exploring more of the skin on your neck.

Every thrust was a new claim on you. He owned every part of you already in this moment, and you were helpless to do anything but surrender to him. Every utterance of adoration making you fall deeper into him. He captured your lips again, possessive and ardent. “So beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, breath hot in your mouth, “so perfect.” His kisses peppered against your jaw. “And all mine.”

His whispered words of love and devotion were filled with desire and admiration. Passion and worship. Every shared breath and touch set your soul on fire. His name on your lips only fueled him more, answering your please with fervent movements.

Jou’s hand tightened in your hair again, reconnecting your lips and sucking in your gasps. “I love you,” he whispered into your mouth, “I love you, I’ll never let you go.”

Your body seized, his praise and confession making you dizzy, gasping for breath you couldn’t find. You were truly drowning in him. “My beautiful girl.” You felt yourself clench around him at the sound and he smirked into your mouth. “You like being praised, don’t you?”

You shuddered but nodded and his movements became more deliberate, leaving you feeling boneless as he thrust repeatedly into the same delicious spot. “You like it when I tell you how perfect you are?” His teeth rolled over your bottom lips. “How beautiful you are?” He soaked in every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. “And how you’re all mine?” You whined and squeezed his hand, nails digging in unintentionally. “I could praise you forever to get these reactions from you.” His teeth found your neck again, nipping roughly at a spot before using his tongue to soothe it.

Your body couldn’t help but arch up into his at the prospect of forever. “I love when you talk like this.” Your hand left his bicep, finding his neck again, scraping along the nape of it as you pressed your hips into his.

Jou groaned as your nails scraping over his skin. His breathing grew ragged, softly growling at your words, his grip falling to your hips, almost bruising as his movements became more possessive, frantic. He pressed his body closer lost in the pleasure and intimacy, craving more of you.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, voice hoarse from his own broken moans, “the way you react to my words, to my touches,” he grazed up your side to emphasize and you gasped, “those tiny noises you make…” he groaned as you squeaked from the way he thrust into you harder, rougher. “It drives me insane.”

“I adore you.” His tone changed just as fast, his kisses getting sloppy as his hips stuttered. “I could spend forever worshiping you.”

“Then keep me forever,” you whisper back, moaning as your body begged for more and more of him.

“Forever,” he repeated, a growl against your lips, “I’ll keep you forever.” His pace was ferocious, the bed shaking from it as he claimed you. “I’ll never let you go,” he promised, mouth covering yours in another searing kiss. “You’re all mine now and no one else will ever have you.” His voice sounds thick, heavy with desire and a feral possessiveness.

“You’re mine forever, to worship, to adore, to claim for eternity.” Every phrase is punctuated with another thrust, another kiss. “My beautiful, perfect girl. This isn’t just some mindless fling. I’m going to keep you, make you mine in every way.”

“In every way.” You repeated back, frantically nodding your consent for him to do so, to do whatever he pleased with you. “However you want, whatever you want, Jou.”

Your words seemed to ignite something under his skin, Jou’s body shuddering above you as he took in your words and the desire behind them. He growled against your skin at your eager consent, body responding to your words and his mind reeling from your submission. His grip on your hip moved to your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. He left another mark on your collarbone as he whispered another promise into your skin.

“You’re so willing to give yourself over to me. It’s intoxicating.” He said it as if in awe, marveling over how you so willingly put yourself at his mercy. “I intend to take advantage of that,” he warned, his eyes staring at you with raw desire and adoration. “I’m going to make you mine, claim you so thoroughly that you’ll forget anyone else ever existed before me.”

“No-” you shook your head, “no one existed before you.” You moaned loudly in his ear as your nails found his shoulders again. “No one but you Jou.” Your insides twisted up. “No one else when there’s you.”

Jou reacted viscerally to your words, deep guttural groans escaping his lips as he buried his face in your neck, panting. His pace bordered on frenzied and you felt yourself crumbling. “Damn right,” he growled, “no one else for you. Only me. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

His groan into your neck morphed into broken moans from his pace. The idea of nothing but the two of you mattering had ecstasy shattering over both of you. Your lips formed broken moans of ‘only you’ as your body fell into release.

As you both shattered together, Jo’s body tensed and then trembled above you, his own climax hitting him hard and leaving him breathless. You could feel his ragged pants against the clammy skin of your neck, his body shuddering as he struggled to catch his breath, to come down.

His grip on your hip and your hand loosened, fingers tracing gentle, soothing circles on your skin in a sharp contrast to the wildness of his previous touches. He barely kept himself held above you as you both were consumed in your own world. His voice was still rough but soft with affection for you as he whispered again.

“Only me, only you,” he kissed you deeply, “only us.”

a/n "only us" and the shishitoren boys who are about to show up at the ori and not let you be able to sneak out unseen... and your best friend who may just find his abandoned jacket in that tunnel and fear the worst...

TAGLIST

@qichun @starlitsawamura @oooohno @albakugo @yisxn

@toria175 @tsukiran

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✩ ‧₊˚ these roses have thorns

— pairing. megumi fushiguro x fem!reader

— synopsis. he hated you. you hated him. it was simple really, all those years of competing to be the best had only driven you two as each others biggest rivals. time passes as it’s been years since you’ve seen each other. suddenly, you both reconnect and wonder why you hated each other to begin with.

— word count. 3.2k

— contents. enemies to friends, (lovers implied), language, angst, fluff, minor injuries, minor family issues, indications of bullying, megumi is such a dork

— notes. credit to @saradika for the dividers 🤍

main masterlist

“You’re so incredibly irritating.”

Megumi rested his forehead against his palm, trying his hardest to block out your high pitched squealing voice.

“Do you think I wanted to be paired up with you? Nope. Not at all. If it were up to me, I’d drop out of this class altogether!”

Your voice strained his ears, his temples aching with the sensation of an oncoming headache.

“Can you just stop talking.” He mumbled.

“No actually. If me talking pains you so much, I’ll keep doing it.” You sassed, crossing your arms.

“God, I can’t stand you.”

He huffed and stood suddenly, not giving you another glance and marching his way towards the classroom.

“Where are you going?”

“To find our teacher. Gonna ask him if I can do this project on my own.”

You rolled your eyes but stayed silent. You could feel your cheeks red, you wondered if people could see smoke coming out of your ears from how infuriated you were.

Megumi stopped in his tracks, turning around when he didn’t hear your snarky reply. Truthfully, he was waiting for it and was shocked when it never came. He furrowed his brows at the sight of you pouting, rooted in your same spot.

“What? Don’t seem so upset, I’ll be doing you a favor.” He said, indicating that you’d appreciate his gesture. No longer cursed with his presence.

He never quite understood why you hated him so much. All he knew was that you were competitive, and so was he. At least when it came to you, he wanted to be better than you at all things. Your reactions becoming his favorite thing when he outsmarted you.

“Whatever.” You mumbled, turning away from him and stomping off the school grounds.

Megumi oddly decided not to meet with the teacher, choosing to tough it out— and do this project with you. It would be too much of a hassle to explain to the teacher why he wanted to work alone.

Days later, you and Megumi were sat underneath a tree within the schools courtyard. He was leaning back against the base of the bark, while you were focused on your notes in front of you.

Your harsh erasing on your notepad had Megumi glancing over to you. He had to bite his tongue when you swiped the shavings in his direction, some of which landed on his uniform pants.

“Okay lemme check this again…” You muttered quietly to yourself, flipping through a textbook in a haste.

He just watched, holding back a laugh at how ridiculous you looked. So panicked and stressed for absolutely no reason— he assumed you were working so hard only to prove you were doing more than him for the project.

Which truthfully, you were. But he had an idea for later.

A frustrated sigh from you grabbed his attention, breaking him from his thoughts. His eyes suddenly focusing on your tongue wedged between your lips, the way it was poking out as you scribbled notes.

“Y’know, you can poke a hole through the paper if you write hard enough.”

“At least I’m working on the project.” You shot back.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and snatching the notepad out of your hands— causing you to gasp.

“Hey! Give it back!”

“What’s all this nonsense anyway— we won’t be needing any of this information. Wasting your tim—”

“I said give it!” You said through clenched teeth, reaching for the notepad, only for him to hold it farther out of your reach.

“I mean, are you even reading out of the right textbook?” He questioned, trying to make you feel incompetent.

You clenched your jaw, your cheeks rising in heat once again.

“If you don’t give it back, I’m going to—”

“Oh you’re threatening me now? How adorable.”

You pressed your lips together tight, the comment both annoying and flustering you. You decided to ignore him and the fluttering in your stomach— pulling out another notepad from your backpack and flipping to a fresh page.

Megumi watched in fascination as you started rewriting all your notes you had previously written. He chuckled, earning a shake of your head. Clearly over his antics.

“God, you’re so stubborn. Doesn’t it hurt your head?”

“Shut up. Let me work.” You snapped, not lifting your gaze from your notes.

He chuckled again, your reactions only spurring him on.

“Are you even a real person?”

This had you snapping your head up, giving him a bitchy look. Although, Megumi wasn’t phased— he held your glare with pleasure.

“Are you? I swear, sometimes it feels like you’ve been sent to this planet just to make my life a living hell.” You hissed.

“Yeah, you wish you were that special.” He mumbled.

You held his satisfied expression for a few more seconds before breaking the stare, focusing back on your work.

“Let me work, please.” Your voice was quieter than before.

“Aww, did I hurt your feelings?”

“No, now please— let me fucking work!” You raised your voice, your grip on your pencil extremely tight.

He chuckled before letting himself go silent, oddly enough— he let you finish the days work in peace. He’d have to hold himself back from talking every time he caught you sticking your tongue out in concentration. He’d have to force himself to look away every time you brought the eraser end of the pencil up to your lips, letting the pink end rub over your mouth.

It was funny, he suddenly realized. Your presence was wasn’t totally awful when you were quiet.

Another day had passed, and the due date of the project was finally here. It was hilarious how he hadn’t done much of anything to the project— not that you’d let him. It wasn’t just the day of the project turn in date, it was also the day of his mischievous plan.

It was the end of class, Megumi sat silent in his spot as the teacher said his final words to his students. The bell rung and before you could level move an inch from your desk, the teacher was calling your name.

“(Y/n) (L/n), please see me after the room is cleared.” He told you.

You nodded but couldn’t help the confusion wash over your features. Immediately thinking of why he’d want to pull you to the side. Had you done something wrong? Certainly not.

Megumi met your gaze one last time, his eyes locking with yours. You glared at him, noticing the way he had a smug look on his face. Before you could change your expression, he had turned and left throughout the doorway.

Slowly, you made your way up to the teachers desk.

“You wanted to speak with me?” You asked politely, maybe a little nervously.

“Yes. It’s been brought to my attention that there were some issues with your project.” He informed you.

You wondered what possibly could’ve been wrong, the teacher had already told you and Megumi that it was the best of the grade.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“Miss (L/n), I’m very disappointed in you. You are one of my brightest students, and for you to deliberately make your classmate Megumi do the whole project himself— well it saddens me.”

Your teachers words had your eyes wide, your mouth hanging open in shock. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. Megumi wouldn’t have gone this far, would he have?

“Mr… I… Listen there is a misunderstan—”

“I don’t need to hear your excuses. Just know that you will be taking a zero for this assignment.”

“But you don’t understand… I did the pro—”

“Lying to me isn’t helping your case Miss (L/n). I just want this to be a learning lesson for you. Megumi was quite upset about this whole ordeal, and I expect you to respect your classmates better from now on.” He finished, standing up and leaving the classroom.

You were left standing in front of his desk still, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Your chest ached at how hard you were breathing, the rage you felt threatening to burst.

You left the classroom, cheeks red and hot. If there was any moment in time where smoke would be bursting out your ears— it would be now.

Just as your foot passed the doorway, you heard an all too familiar laugh. One that had your breathing rising, fastening in pace.

You turn towards the dark haired boy, walking quickly up to his smug face.

“You’re such a dick! I can’t believe you would go this far!” You yelled.

He crossed his arms, his form calmly leaned back against the lockers.

“Just following through with my mission to make your life a living hell.” He repeated from a previous conversation.

You stared at him with disgust.

“Are you really that fucking upset over what I said?”

“I’m not upset about shit. You just need to know who’s always going to have the last laugh. Who’s always going to be on top— because it won’t be you.” He stated.

“I know you hate my guts, but making me take a zero for this project? That’s too far, you don’t get to interfere with my schoolwork. I work too damn hard for you to mess it up!” You defended.

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but feel bad. He didn’t realize the teacher was going to give you a zero. He assumed a little scolding at least. He realized that maybe he’d taken it too far.

“Y’know what, you win.”

Megumi looked at you with confusion at your admittance.

“You’re better than me at everything. You’re the high and mighty one and I’m just a piece of shit. I get it, I do. Now please do me one fucking favor— and leave me alone.” You pleaded, your voice quiet at the end, thick with emotion.

Megumi couldn’t say anything in the moment, and instead watched you walk away— your head down. He did all this for a quick laugh, to see your reaction and all— so why did he feel terrible instead. It was never supposed to end up this way.

Perhaps he had taken it too far, and now he was afraid that there’d be no fixing this. That theory was confirmed the second he heard that you had transferred schools the next week.

God, he really fucked up. Now he had no way to resolve or fix anything. Now more than ever, he felt the extremely strong urge to tell you he was sorry. He realized all too quickly— he wouldn’t get the chance to.

A few years had passed, and a lot had changed.

Standing in front of the Jujutsu School now— it didn’t quite feel real. You had to force yourself to truly believe that this is where you ended up.

Remembering back, you recalled the exact moment where your life had shifted— from something so simple to chaos.

It happened days after the whole ordeal with Megumi and the project. The rage that had consumed you since that moment had been building. The last week at school was forgotten— you couldn’t recall a thing any of the teachers had said that day.

It was the saturday after your last week. You had been trying to relax at home, make yourself something to eat when you accidentally burned your finger on the stove. Almost like a trigger, the rage that had been built up inside of you tripled— your body not feeling like your own.

Before you fully feel the pain of the burn— your whole house was suddenly in flames. Within minutes your house was simply gone— vanishing from where it was previously rooted.

Your parents had been furious, but they weren’t surprised— not even a little. A long talk later, and you discovered that you were adopted, the two people you lived with forever not even your own Mom and Dad. They told you with heavy hearts that you were born from a clan— one from a history of sorcerers.

You didn’t believe them at first, but after what had just happened— what you had caused. You had no choice but accept the truth.

Your parents assured you not to be upset with yourself for destroying the house, informing you that this was just a placeholder while you were in school. It didn’t push the guilt away that you had done such destruction, and you felt out of control with these abilities you didn’t even know you possessed.

Your parents let you decide your path, and you chose to leave home. Leaving to somewhere that could help you with your abilities, one that would help you understand who you were.

So no, Megumi wasn’t the reason why you transferred. But of course, how would he ever know that fact.

With hesitant steps, you walked further into the school grounds— taking in the beauty of the buildings. The environment felt peaceful and inviting— and most importantly you felt like you finally belonged somewhere.

“(Y/n)?” A deep voice called from behind you.

You got lost in thought before you turned around, the voice sounding so familiar, yet so foreign.

“(Y/n) (L/n)?” The voice called out again, this time around sounding more unsure.

You turned around finally, your heart nearly stopping at the sight of him. There before you stood none other than Megumi Fushiguro.

You realized you hadn’t said anything since he got your attention. You snapped yourself out of your shock and sent him a warm smile, one that undoubtedly had a flash of nervousness in it.

“Megumi, hi. It’s been… It’s been awhile.” You greeted, scratching your arm anxiously.

It was Megumi’s turn to be shocked, he hadn’t seen you in years and yet the person standing in front of him was undoubtedly you, but not you at the same time.

Everything from your features and your height was different, but it’s not what had him so shocked. It was your voice that silenced him completely. It was so— gentle.

It was a miracle he even recognized you at all.

“I’m guessing from your silence that you still don’t like me.” You said in a small voice, laughing awkwardly at the end.

Megumi was snapped out of his shock instantly from the sound of your hurt voice.

“No, no I uh… I am just surprised to see you here.” He explained, “Um, why are you here?”

You didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he was speaking to you much more softer than ever— it was odd.

You scratched your arm nervously, the same neutral smile on your face.

“I’m going to school here.” You revealed, feeling anxious about what his thoughts were on that. “That’s okay with you, right?”

He nodded. Otherwise his thoughts ran around with the possibility that you were a sorcerer too? How did he never recognize that. Were there signs? How did he miss them?

“Why would it matter what I think?”

You shrugged, the conversation feeling too awkward. There was so much unnecessary tension— you blamed it on the past.

Since you had thought about it, you found yourself walking a couple steps closer to him. It was then you could finally get a closer look at him. His hair had grown longer, more hectic. He’d certainly grown into his face, his jawline was sharp. It was his eyes that captured you— they were so mesmerizing. The way his eyelashes were so long and caged his eyes.

You cleared your throat, getting back on track.

“Listen, about what all happened in the past—”

But you couldn’t finish your sentence, as Megumi cut in.

“I don’t need you to do that, really. If anyone here should be apologizing— it should be me.”

His words shocked you, and you found yourself unable to respond right away. He sensed that and kept going.

“I know it might not make a difference after all these years but, I’m sorry I was such a dick. I’m sorry for always messing with you— and I’m sorry for the whole project thing.” He finished.

You couldn’t help but feel some sort of healing within you from those words. It wasn’t often you’d dwell on him, but you always wondered where his hate for you came from. Maybe it was just an odd occurrence.

“I accept your apology. Thank you.”

Megumi sent a weak smile then, feeling some weight lift off his shoulders. But not all of it.

“And don’t feel too bad about this whole thing, I wasn’t so innocent either. I shouldn’t have messed with you either— I know I was quite annoying. If anything, I probably deserved it.”

Megumi smirked, his shoulders jumping with a silent laugh. He didn’t want to seem rude but he also couldn’t help himself from asking.

“Sorry to change the subject but, how are you a sorcerer? I never got the idea that you were one.”

You ended up walking towards the school stairs, taking a seat and watching as Megumi followed and plopped down next to you— closer than you predicted.

“It’s a long story. Turns out I was adopted and my adoptive parents told me I was from a sorcerer clan.” You ran through the long story, “It’s a pretty boring story.”

He nodded, listening intently to your story. He was intrigued with you— and he wondered if that was the reason he always felt this pull around you.

“What about you? I didn’t know you were a sorcerer. You don’t seem the type.” You joked at the end.

He chuckled, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’ve pretty much known my whole life. Guess I’m good at keeping secrets.”

You hummed, clearly he was right. You didn’t suspect a thing.

“Good to know.”

Despite apologies being traded, small talk being had— there was obvious tension still thick in the air. Neither of you could pinpoint why.

“Well I should um… I should probably get settled in and everything.” You suggested, standing up to head out.

Megumi surprised you yet again when his hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist— halting you in your spot. But it was a gentle touch, one that didn’t seem like him.

“Uh (Y/n)?”

“Yes Megumi?”

He bit his lip, the back of his neck hot with what he wanted to say.

“Just wanted to say that you look good.”

He really couldn’t believe he just said that, after all those years are being a complete dickhead— and suddenly he thinks a couple words of sweet talk would bail him out of the mess. What was he thinking.

Except you were flattered and felt your cheeks heating up, but this time is was from nerves.

“Thank you Megumi, you look good too. Very handsome.”

Megumi’s cheeks suddenly became rosy, the back of his neck burning up. He wasn’t expecting you to say it back, but with how you were looking at him— he knew it was genuine.

“Thanks.”

You smiled at him, your chest warm with a foreign sensation— but you welcomed it.

“After I unpack my things, would you mind showing me around?”

Megumi sent a small smile back, scratching the back of his neck yet again. You never made him this nervous, but your voice also never sounded so smooth, so gentle before.

“Sure.”

With that, you walked away— feeling a little more chipper in your step.

The two of you were left alone in your thoughts as you both went your separate ways. Both of you were thinking of lots, but the one thought that ran through both of your minds was— why did we even hate each other to begin with?

— ending notes. thought of this randomly one night and started writing 😅 not proofread so ignore spelling mistakes 🤍

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by a tiktok that i will come back and link when i'm not at work anymore lol

Midway through December, Eddie’s publishing house puts on a holiday party at their HQ all the way in NYC.

Okay – all the way might be a little dramatic. New York isn’t too far a haul from where Eddie and Steve put down roots in Massachusetts, but with three hellions under the age of seven, anything outside of their typical routine is a stretch.

They’re making it work though – anything for an opportunity to get some childless time together – and they’ve got Robin and Nancy watching the girls so they can stay overnight in the city, and they’re getting all dolled up too (Steve is wearing an enormous cableknit sweater with a turtleneck underneath and, seriously, Eddie had no idea that many layers could still be that fucking hot until he met Steve). 

Normally Eddie wouldn’t give a shit (he likes to bring a kind of come as you are type of vibe to the function, typically), but he’s actually looking forward to an evening spent wearing clothes that aren’t covered in snot and craft glitter and food.

He’s wearing these dark grey plaid trousers and he’s got a silk-ish black button-down on over a black undershirt, tucked in and unbuttoned simultaneously, and he’s topping it all off with a positively ancient leather jacket that he’s had for longer than he can even remember.

He looks pretty fuckin’ snazzy, if he’d say so himself.

Eddie is putting the finishing touches on his look – selecting the perfect assortment of rings and chains – when the door pushes open and his four-year-old, Robbie, enters the room.

Robbie pulls a confused kind of face as she looks him up and down.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows.

“What’s that look for?”

Robbie’s still got her nose all scrunched up as she says, “What happened to you?”

And now Eddie is offended because he actually thinks he looks pretty great, thanks, and he could do without judgement from his pre-schooler (who still gets dressed with her shirt on backwards half the time, just for the record).

“Amelia Robin, you cannot be serious.”

“What happened to you?” she repeats.

“Oh, you’re gonna double down on that?”

Robbie doesn’t even bother responding, just skitters back out from whence she came or whatever. He can hear Robin just behind him trying not to laugh.

“Did you tell her to say that?” he asks her, because it’s far from outside the realm of possibility.

“I swear on all that is holy I didn’t,” she snickers, “That was totally her.”

Eddie sighs.

“Y’know, Steve’s got all this big talk about oh, she’s you, Ed, she’s just like you,” Eddie says, his voice going all high and mocking, “But that – that was pure Steve.”

They head downstairs not too long later where Steve is walking Nancy through the insane binder he stores all of the girls' info in.

“Hey,” Steve says, a grin growing on his face, “Look at you.”

“Eugh,” Robin groans, “Can you guys leave already and be gross outside my line of sight.”

“You look good as hell,” Steve ignores her as he tugs just a little on the hem of Eddie’s coat.

“Can you tell your daughter that, please.”

[freedomfireflies]

Wake the Dead*

Summary: An iFall for Harry blurb for Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun

The one where you and Harry sneak into an abandoned cemetery at night.

And things get a little spooky.

Can be read as standalone!

Word Count: 2.1k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Har…Harry—”

“Shh. Gonna scare the ghosts, ladybug.”

You pout playfully while Harry grins and continues his vivacious sucking on your neck. “Har...what if we get caught?”

“Then we run.”

You whimper deep within the back of your throat, sighing when his tongue darts out to swipe under your jaw. “We’re...we're gonna be late. What if Patrick comes looking—”

“He won’t,” Harry retorts calmly, tightening his hold on your hips while continuing to grind you down against his cock. “Now hush, you’re ruining my fun.”

Left with no other choice, you oblige his request. Eyelids growing heavy with lust as you look off into the dark, empty cemetery. The sound of the wind echoes between the trees; an ominous addition to your frantic and somewhat lewd make out session. Yet despite it all…you feel at peace.

It had been Harry’s idea to come for a leisurely stroll through the cemetery in the first place. Claiming it was perfect Halloween fun – and he knew a shortcut.

 But five minutes later, he had you down on his lap, his hands under your shirt, and his tongue tangled with yours.

Not that you really care to complain. You enjoy the spookiness and the secrecy. After all, you don’t always tend to get such private moments with a man whose face is plastered on almost every billboard across the world.

But in times like tonight – when it’s just you and him – you realize how badly you need them.

And how grateful you are that you texted that wrong number all those months ago.

“Har,” you whisper again, fingers tangling in his roots as you tug. “Baby, there’s cameras—”

“So?”

“So,” you exhale, “if they recognize you, you could get in trouble.”

Harry merely hums. A soft, dangerous sort of sound while his thumbs swipe beneath the swells of your breasts. “Don’t care.”

“Well…you should—”

“But I don’t,” he repeats coolly. “Only care about you.”

You feel your insides twist. “Just…don’t want you to get in trouble.”

He smirks at this. Amused with your nerves and enamored by your care. He leans back, now nudging his nose against yours. “I won’t, baby,” he whispers. “S’nothing wrong with me lovin’ on my girl, is there?”

You smile yourself. “No. But that’s not all you had in mind, is it?”

His grin grows a bit more wicked. “I don’t know. Depends.”

“On?”

“If you like an audience.”

Confused, your brows furrow.

He nods his chin toward the dark graveyard before you, gesturing at the headstones with a devious gleam in his eye. “Heard ghosts like to watch.”

Now you understand, chuckling beneath a quiet breath as you readjust yourself over his lap. “Is that right?”

“Mhm. Kinky little fuckers.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean, not that I really mind,” he continues, nuzzling his way back to your neck. Dancing a trail of kisses down to your shoulder. “Kind of feel bad for them, y’know? Bet they never see any action anymore.”

Your lashes flutter. “Yeah…”

“We’d probably be doing them a kindness.”

“Mmm…”

“Let ‘em watch…let them listen…let them feed off your pretty, little screams.”

He suddenly tugs on your hips, forcing your cunt against his hardened cock, and it makes a breath hitch in your throat.

“Guess…guess you’re right,” you exhale, head rolling to the side. “S’only fair.”

He smiles. “Guess it is.”

You whine again as his cold hands smooth across the expanse of your stomach, easily slipping down to your waistband. “Har…”

“What?” It’s a gentle hum but filled with concern as his eyes flick to yours. “We don’t have to, baby, I promise. We can leave right now and go back to the hotel, yeah? Finish what we started there. Honest.”

It’s a kind thought. Considerate and so very Harry that it makes your heart wrench.

But it’s not what you want, and you begin to giggle quietly as you shake your head and lace your fingers around the back of his neck. “No, I don’t wanna go. Want you to fuck me – right here – and let all the ghost’s watch.”

The energy shifts instantaneously as he bursts out into a wide, excitable grin that fills his whole face. Putting those familiar dimples on display as you kiss him hard and with an overwhelming rush of adoration. 

“That’s my girl,” he groans, returning to his work of slipping your zipper down. “Okay, but we gotta be quick, yeah? Don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Wouldn’t care if I did,” you admit, fingers fumbling with his belt. “Just wanna feel you, Har—”

“I know,” he breathes, moaning some when his thumb finally finds your clit. “Shit, I know, ladybug. Got you all worked up, hm? Like it when I tease you, don’t you?”

You can say nothing, instead nodding again as you pull his cock from his boxers. He’s hard and heavy in your hand. The tip slightly swollen and sticky with pre-cum as you work him in your palm.

“Fuck—” His forehead drops to your collarbone, lips buried into the skin not covered by your sweater. “M’gonna cum if you keep doing that—”

“Well, maybe I wanna tease you, too,” you retort. Watching the way he twitches between your fingers. “Know you like it when I edge you.”

He makes another noise – virile and animalistic. Tortured in a sense and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “And you think I’m the sadist in the relationship.”

You smirk. “We share.”

After a few more coy pumps, you release him, and move to wrangle your jeans further down your thighs. Creating a bit more room and space before he’s bringing his cock to you.

Steadying your stance above his lap, you rise up onto your knees, and allow yourself to sink down onto him. Slow and easy – enough for you to both feel every second. 

And it’s everything – a rush of endorphins and euphoria that transcends this one singular moment. He’s the perfect stretch. No matter how many times you take him, it feels like the first. Enough to knock the wind from your lungs and make your mind grow fuzzy.

Once you’re finally sat, your arms loop around his neck, holding him to you. Keeping him warm inside your pussy as he curses and presses a kiss to your throat. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, hands cementing to your sides. “You okay, baby?”

You offer another weak nod. “Yeah…yeah, m’good.”

“Good girl. Do you want my help or do you wanna do it yourself?” he asks softly, taking a moment to glance over your expression.

You suck in a needy gasp for air and glance down. “Wanna…wanna do it. I can do it, I swear.”

He chuckles gently before loosening his grip. “Okay, lovie. But I’m right here, yeah? Do whatever you want me to do.”

You dip down and smash your lips against his. Kissing him to showcase your gratitude before you begin to roll your hips and set a steady pace.

It’s relaxed at first. Enough to ease you both into it – create a desperate need and worsen the ache until you’re both whining, frantic messes. 

And he allows you to create your own rhythm. Never rushing you or pulling you the way he wants. He merely wants to enjoy you. Enjoy the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your greedy cunt that sucks him in so well.

The cemetery has grown quiet. Almost too quiet, save for your anxious pants and pathetic whimpers. Occasionally a rogue crow will swoop from tree to tree, but it only makes Harry smirk. As if entertained by the reminder of where you are.

You feel his fingers move for your nipples. Tweaking them between the cold pads of his thumbs before he’s forcing your sweater higher so he can attach his mouth to the left one.

His tongue is warm – a stark contrast to the frigid outside air. But it’s perfect. Sensual and erotic as he sucks you into his mouth and moans.

Your mind falls into an exhilarated haze as you begin to bounce on him. Faster and faster, despite the ache in your joints. Needing to chase after that rush and the sounds he makes.

“So good, baby,” he praises between devious licks and harsh gropes. “Just like that. S’it feel good, lovie? My cock making you feel good?”

“Yes…yes,” you whine, head dropping back as he nips at the skin of your breast. “Harry, please—”

“What, hm?” He flattens his tongue against the aggravated skin. “What do you want, ladybug?”

You make another noise that becomes lost in a gasp, struck with a rush of pleasure from the way his cock strokes against your spongy walls.

“Is that it?” he asks, almost proudly. “Was that your little spot, honey? S’that what you need?”

You nod again and work to find it once more – angling your rolls until you feel it. “Shit…Har…feel so fucking good—”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock? Right now, let ‘em watch?”

You mewl despite his teasing. Ghosts or not, there’s something tantalizing about the idea of him doing this to you in public. No matter how crass, there’s something about it that feels almost sweet. About the idea that Harry Styles – America’s Sweetheart – would be willing to taint his reputation and throw away his anonymity just for you.

His large palms suddenly move for your ass, cupping you firmly before beginning to guide you a bit faster. Seemingly overcome by the need for release the closer he gets. 

“Shit there you go…there you go, honey, fuck.” He’s groaning now – almost incoherent as his brows crease and his teeth grit. He’s so beautiful when he’s being fucked. “M’gonna cum, baby. M’gonna cum…and you’re gonna take it, yeah? Gonna take me in your pretty pussy?”

You stumble over a gasp and scratch your nails down his shoulders. Allowing him to move you exactly the way he needs as he begins to yank you all the way down. Burying himself inside your cunt until you feel him twitch.

“Keep going,” he exhales before it twists into a moan. “Fuck, keep going, lovie, m’almost there—”

“Please,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. “Shit, please, Har. Cum inside me, please—”

“God, baby. Gonna, I promise. Fucking fill you—”

“Please—”

“And you’re gonna take me, aren’t you? Keep me inside this sweet little cunt all goddamn night, yeah?”

“Harry, please—”

“Shit—”

It hits him then. Suddenly and with no warning as he releases a lewd groan and empties himself into your pussy. Wrapping his arms around your middle to keep you against his lap while he fills you with each drop he has to offer.  

It makes your fucking head spin, a warmth blossoming in your stomach as you weave your fingers in his roots and pulls his head against your heart. 

However, he doesn’t settle in your embrace for long, instead moving his touch down to your clit to work you toward your own release. Pinching and rubbing in small, practiced circles until you’re practically screaming. Unraveling by his hand only moments later as your pleasured sounds echo around the graveyard. Loud enough to wake the dead.

“There you go,” he murmurs, and it’s sweet like honey. Deep and comforting as he kisses your neck. “Oh, baby. Fucking soaking me, aren’t you? Can feel you all over my thighs, lovie. S’fucking perfect. Aren’t you?”

You feel your lips stretch into a lazy smile as you finally manage to catch your breath and slump against his strong frame. Allowing him to hold you up as you both succumb to the quiet night. 

You feel his fingers stroke against the skin of your hips. Another quiet reminder of his adoration that makes your stomach flip. 

“Did so good,” he praises, nuzzling his nose against your jaw in an unspoken attempt at asking for a kiss. He grins when you give it to him. “See? S’more fun with an audience, isn’t it?”

 You laugh, eyes trailing over to the row of tombstones just beside you. “Speaking of which…do you know what a ghost’s favorite cheese is?”

Instantly, a grin is exploding across his face. “What?”

You take a beat to build up the anticipation, fighting a smirk as you whisper, “Ghoul-da.”

He groans, amused and exasperated as he tightens his arms around your waist. “God, that was your worst yet.”

“What? You aren’t scared stiff?”

“Fuck off—”

“Are you gonna boo me?”

“Ladybug—”

“Well, you better fasten your sheet belt, cause there’s more where that came from—”

“All right,” he huffs playfully, tugging you closer until you squeal. “You win. And you’re insufferable.”

You chuckle. “Maybe, but…you love me.”

To this, he smiles, and your heart feels warm and fuzzy as he guides his lips to yours.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

~ iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Freaky Fun Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @lydiarry @yoruse @lomlolivia @kkr102 @gills-lounge @sicklscream @white-wolf-buckaroo @brooklynbelle @stylesmoonlight12 @itjustkindahappenedreally @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs

[kurogxrix]

That’s okay! Could I request daughter x Tonowari or daughter x Jake though?

This Family is Our Fortress

Jake sully x Daughter!reader x Neytiri

IN WHICH Dad!Jake and Mom!Neytiri comfort you after the boy that you loved has chosen another.

WC: 2.8k

Sweet dad!Jake shit because i need it in my life.

The Sully tent was just as lively as every single night, the booming voices of kids arguing over some irrelevant topic resonated in the background. Neytiri was busy peeling a few fruits for some sort of dessert while Neteyam helped his mother with the main dish, which she was more than happy with, don't get her wrong. Although usually, it would be you that would be helping her with the cooking pot, but you were not in the tent yet. 

Neytiri moved her head back towards the rest of her kids that were playing some game that Tuk had forced them too. She watched as the two older kids completely let the youngest out, fighting over the game by themselves like children as Tuk was left to complain by herself. Though their dear father was never far away, and he just happens to have been unfortunate enough to have gotten caught by Tuk.

Neytiri had to put her knife down in an attempt to bring a hand up to her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as she watched Jake fall victim to Tuk’s makeover. She tied ribbons of all shapes and sizes into his locs, opting for two silly looking pigtails that Jake surely complained about during the whole process. Eywa, it was moments like these that made Neytiri fall even more in-love with the man that had swooped her heart so many years ago. 

She looked down at her half-peeled fruits before smiling wildly to herself, unbeknownst of the knowing look that her eldest son was giving her. After recollecting her sense, Neytiri turned her gaze towards the entrance of their tent and her ears raised at the sight of you. You were sitting on the bare, dirty floor of the High Camp. 

Though your back was turned to her, she could see that you were fiddling with something in your hand. It was unlike you to stay out of family bonding time, because Eywa knew herself how much you hated being excluded. So to see you distancing yourself on purpose made concern rise into your mother’s chest. Her motherly instincts were ringing, but she had a better idea of who to call for the job. 

She looked back towards Jake, who was now harboured a totally new hairstyle. Neytiri made a call for Jake as she watched his hair whip towards her. He wasted no time going to his wife, narrowly escaping the wrath of Tuk’s strong little fingers that pulled at the roots of his hair mercilessly. 

“Your daughter is upset,” she stated, not once lifting her eyes from her work in fear of bursting out laughing at the sight of him so close. Jake looked at her quizzically as though she had just asked him the most complicated question, and she sighed annoyingly at his silence.

“That means you must go comfort your daughter, ma Jake.” she stated, this time looking straight into his eyes. Her cutting didn’t stop, and he was impressed at her precision and multitasking skills. 

“I look straight out of a circus, think she’s gonna take me seriously like this?” he laughed, but Neytiri failed to reciprocate his amusement. Jake winced at the serious look on her face, fearing that he might’ve taken it a little too far. Though his shoulders visibly relaxed and fell back down when she only huffed and dropped her head back down to the bowl full of diced up fruits. 

“Y’know it is not normal for her to be this quiet, she has not even stepped foot into our family tent!” Neytiri muttered, concern heavy in her voice. She turned her head towards where you sat, and Jake only followed in suit. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your back turned towards them, before standing up and wipping his hands unnecessarily on his lap.

“Don’t stress this Jake, s’okay, just a little conversation with your daughter.” he tried to calm himself down as he walked towards the tent doors, feeling himself pause as he hesitated behind you. Eywa, when was the last time that he’s had such a conversation with his own child? Jake couldn’t even remember for sure, and he knew that the one that he was about to have with you was not going to be light-hearted. 

“What’s up, oeyä hì’i syulang?” you heard the anxious voice of your father suddenly from beside you, jumping a little at the suddenness. You smiled softly at the nickname that he has carried for you since birth, my little flower. Though it quickly fell as you glanced back at the bracelet in the palm of your hand, your lips churning into a frown once more. 

“You wanna tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours?” he asked when he received no answer for his first question. “I know I must look silly right now but I can assure you that I'm 100 percent serious about this.” at his words, you looked at him swiftly. Retaining the need to laugh at his odd hairstyle that you were sure was Tuk’s creation was hard. He grunted as the corners of your mouth twitched when your eyes panned towards his hair, his ears falling down as he knew that you were internally making fun of him.

“It’s nothing dad, I'm fine.” you shook your head slowly, raising to your knees in an attempt to stand up and leave. Though Jake’s hand was quick to catch onto your forearm to drag you back down. His strength was indomitable even though he was not pulling you with his whole will, and you had no other choice then to submit. It was silent for a few minutes as you sat back down next to him, your leg crossed above the other.

“It’s just Naywe.“ his ears raised at the sound of the boy’s name, falling completely silent as he gave you his full attention. You hesitated before telling him the rest, considering if it was worth it to tell you dad such things. It was hard for you to express your feelings to anyone, let alone your own family. Jake cursed himself as his children had inherited his emotional constipation, which was clear in the way that Lo’ak refused to ever talk to them about his own feelings.

You felt a warm palm enveloped your own as you looked down to your hand, only to see your father’s larger one intertwining yours. He gave you a reassuring squeeze before you craned your neck to look back up at his face again, seeing the encouraging look on his face. You knew that it was just as hard for your father to discuss emotions just like it was for you and your little brother, and your heart soared at his dedication. 

As a father, Jake knew that his job was to make his kids feel loved and understood. Though he failed miserably at it with his youngest son, he told himself that he’d try to be better for you all. Fatherhood was hard, he had to admit, but at the end of the day when he’d glance at his peacefully sleeping children all perched up on their hammocks, he knew that he wouldn’t exchange this life for any other. 

“What about that boy?” your father asked. Jake knew that there was something going on between you and Naywe that reached further than the platonic line. Matter of fact everyone could see it, they were not blind. The boy would always walk you back home after a long day out, and sometimes you’d even return home with all sorts of new jewellery and attachments. His eyes can’t help but wander onto your head piece, one that he knew was undoubtedly crafted and gifted to you by the na’vi boy. 

Jake wasn’t stupid to the omaticaya customs, just because he had impulsively bonded with Neytiri didn’t mean that he didn’t learn afterwards. He knew of na’vi mating customs and one of them was gift giving. Something that one has made by themselves to affirm their love, to show that the other person was the one that they had chosen.

At first it was hard to accept for your father, to see his daughter growing up so fast, see his hì’i syulang grow from the little girl that she once was into the woman that she is today. His heart hurt at the thought that soon you’d leave his home to your shared one with Naywe, but it seemed like Eywa had other plans for you.” 

“I-I don’t know, I just thought that there was something special between us.” 

“Of course there is, that boy is literally attached to your hip!” Jake tried to make you feel better despite not knowing what the real problem was yet, but it only seemed to aggravate things as he watched your lower lip wobble slightly. 

‘Shit’ Jake thought as he watched you turn your head away from him, hiding your feelings far away from the eyes of your father. This was definitely not where he had meant to go with this conversation, but hey, parenthood is all about unexpected moments. Your father slung a hand over your shoulders, successfully pulling you into his torso as you hid your face in his chest. 

He couldn’t see the way that your face was crumbling as you fought tears, but he could feel you shaking against him. Jake turned around to seek silent help from Neytiri, but she was too busy serving food to your siblings to even bat an eye towards him. Jake didn’t want you to think that he was incompetent as a father, even though you would never think such of your dad.

He was in all platitude, your hero. You looked up to your father much more than he knew of, but you’d never openly admit that to him. The side hug was just as much physical affection that he could give you without being awkward, but you’d take that over anything. 

“You ready to talk about it?” Jake brought a hand to caress the delicate braids that your mother had just done a few days ago. Your hair accessories matched the ones in her hair, and Jake couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He knew of how much you loved your entire family, but the bond between a mother and a child is unlike no other. You are bonded to your mother by tsaheylu right after birth, so your relationship is deep. 

For a second, Jake wished that it could have been the same with fathers. Maybe then he could have understood you better in this instance, so he would have known the exact things to tell you. 

“He’s not mine anymore.” you sniffled as you looked down at the bracelet that you fiddled between your fingers. “But he was never even mine to begin with.” you explained to your father, who he listened to you talk as though a 14 year old teen listening to gossip. The relationship between Naywe and you was always complicated, but you knew that your feelings for the boy were solid. Even for a moment, you had allowed yourself to believe that so we’re his, but apparently it was for any other woman.

Naywe had only been courting you for a while, but you both had never really put any sort of title upon your relationship. You never thought that you needed it, because if he was courting you, it must’ve surely meant that he wanted to be yours, forever. 

“He is with Zepii now, forever.” you observed as your father’s face scrunched up in realisation and you felt yourself crumbling again as you thought about it. Eywa, you had even invited the boy to your tent to have dinner once. You had presented him to your father, and it had taken you ages to muster up the courage to even ask. Now this is what he does after so many months of your devoted dedication? 

Jake felt so many emotions running thick through his veins the moment that you had muttered the words. If Eywa hadn’t given him the strength right now he was sure that he would’ve up and left to beat the boy up. But no, that was unethical for a grown adult, let alone for an Olo’eyktan. He felt an aching feeling pinching at his chest as he watched his eldest daughter being so distraught in his arms, but no matter how much he urged to comfort you, the words just wouldn’t come out. 

Jake watched as tears poured freely from your eyes, staining the smooth skin of your face. Though this time you didn’t try to hide away from your father, and his heart did a double take at the newfound trust. Now the side of your face was resting upon his torso as he continued to rack his hand through your braids silently. It’s not like you had expected your father to tell you all sorts of comforting words when you had ranted to him, because you knew that it was just as hard for him. 

You were just happy to have such an understanding dad, you didn’t hear any words from him to know that he understood you, he saw you.  

“Heard that my little warrior was upset, so I brought you your favourite fruits.” Neytiri’s voice burst from behind the both of you and you removed your face from its comfortable place on your father’s chest. You closed your eyes in an upside down smile as you were grateful for your parent's presence in your moment of sadness. 

“One day you will find someone who truly values you, no need to feel desolated because of one boy.” your mother murmured to you, making it known that she had caught onto your conversation with her husband. Neytiri gave you a bowl full of your favourite fruit, and the gesture couldn’t help but raise a smile to your face. Oh and how much you adored this family. 

Your fingers dug through the mountain of sticky fruit cubes as you picked up a random piece. You were just about to eat the piece of fruit when a sudden force upon your back made you double over, your diced up fruit piece flying from your hand and onto the dirty floor. If it hadn’t been for your mother catching your bowl, you were sure that you would’ve murdered whoever was behind you. You gasped loudly as little arms wrapped themselves around your neck from behind, and you knew by the little giggles who it was already. 

Neytiri looked at Jake from behind Tuk that was perched up on your shoulder as he gave her one of those lovesick looks that you were glad you didn’t see. Neytiri leaned her head to the side as she looked at your father, speaking silently with her eyes to him. They were so sickeningly adorable that it made you want to puke the fruit that you had not even been able to enjoy yet because of your sister.

You felt your mother pat your thigh as she robbed you of your fruit bowl, motioning for you to stand up as she was heading back for the tent. Your father was next, and you reached behind to pass your arms over Tuk’s thighs, locking them securely under her knees to make sure that she didn’t fall. 

Her legs instantly went to wrap over your torso given that she was much shorter than you. The sweet giggles of your baby sister made your heart flutter with newfound happiness as you stood up, jumping up slightly to reposition her. 

Before you could even set foot into the tent though, your father stopped you by the shoulders. There was a warm smile plastered on his face at the sight of your own, and he brought a hand to rest on your cheek. His large thumb wiped all previous tears that had stained your skin, all up in one go. You fought the urge to lean into his large palm, but it seems like the yearning won over as you did so. 

You stayed there for a while, wondering when would be the next time that your father would cherish you in such a way. It didn’t matter anyways if he didn’t hug you in the way that he had done today, because you knew that his love went past physical contact. He reminded you everytime that he was proud of you, and that was enough. 

Even though you knew that your parents reconfort could only seize the pain of betrayal for so long, you were happy that they had been there for you anyways. And no matter how many days or weeks or even months that it takes for you to move on from the aching in your heart, you knew that your family would always be there for you. 

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