#i'm just sad about it. i want to be thought about

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware Sylus x Down-bad!Player

Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]

Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.

Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.

Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.

Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”

Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”

Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”

Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”

Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”

Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..

[parfaitblogs]

making the bed ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort  tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 🫡 word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) 😄 plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu

Alcohol is a depressant. 

You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night. 

You knew that. 

You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone. 

The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel. 

Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.

Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care. 

Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged. 

You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways. 

"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could. 

"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"

An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."

He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Yes. Please?"

"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"

"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."

"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"

"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better. 

"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."

"Mm."

Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you too."

No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door — that your group was so conveniently close to — opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it. 

True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating. 

"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist. 

"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.

The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't. 

The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed. 

It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.

You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain — even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk — was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament. 

You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements. 

He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well. 

"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.

"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"

He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"

"That'll just distract me."

"Is that what you want?"

You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways. 

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters. 

"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."

His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere. 

"Sorry," you mumble.

"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"

"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."

"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.

"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort. 

"Yeah, probably. That's fine."

You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.

"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."

He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful — you needed that time.

He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly. 

"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."

"You already talk a lot."

His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."

"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."

"No, there's not. Alcohol is a depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?" 

"My friends will think I'm boring, then."

He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"

"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, so—"

"—and being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"

Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that. 

Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."

You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry. 

"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face. 

"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."

"I'm sober," you protest, weakly. 

"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."

"I don't think they will either."

He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more. 

"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.

"You've caught me."

He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again. 

"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile. 

He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."

"I know."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[theinheriteddutchess]

I have always liked talking to and befriending men. No one I knew hated men. We have been kind and compassionate. We have listened and advised. We have laughed and we have supported. And even those men can come up with sayings like "worse to lose from a girl" "but he's a nice guy when you get to know him!" (After arguing the guy was acting very creepy and every girl I knew thought the same after dealing with him).

It's hard hearing over and over again, since we were young children, that boys and men think lesser of us because we're female. They are willing to hurt us if we disagree or are better at something. They will sometimes hurt you for simply enjoying doing something. They will be angry if we reject them. No matter how nice. Rejection does get us hurt, because at some point they might become mean or they physically hurt you (this happened more than once unprompted).

And everyone you care about who is female (no matter the young or old) has experienced this. It's not in our heads, or simply active imagination.

I have sided with men and I have supported men. It would be nice if for once men can side and support us.

Realize many (MANY) men have mistreated women (as big as abuse or simply laughing and dismissing us) and the hurt and anger isn't going to simply disappear, and sometimes we're tired. We can't even vent because we are called man haters.

When women say they hate men, do they mistreat men? Or are they meaning the men who hurt them (and if you aren't one of those why are you defending these men?) and who are still treated like more valuable in this society? And if they truly hate men, do they simply stop interacting with men and withdraw from them?

While men who say "women" mean all women and apparently that's okay. And they do, actually hate them. And how do they react? Violence and getting to force these women that they detest and hate, to be submissive to them and harass them.

Men are experiencing women being tired of being treated as less. No feminist wants to be better and rule over men. Real feminism isn't about that. We just want to be treated decent. And be safe.

If you think women being treated better means men get treated worse, you have a problem. And we can't fix it for you. It takes therapy and listening and seeing yourself and working on that.

If you want to be loved by a women you need to start loving her. And that means seeing her as a person, as an equal. Everyone has flaws, you don't need to treat her like a queen. You need to treat her like she matters as a person.

Women aren't your enemy.

If you truly do the right thing and being moral, most people who interact with you aren't seeing you as scum, they will see you as someone that gives them hope (and how sad is that? One man as opposed to many others who don't!). One of the good guys. And that should be enough for now, the whole world might not like you, but they will.

It's almost like men are experiencing only a slice of what we had to deal with all of our lives. I can empathize, I've been there.

(but I do truly believe you should care for one another and I don't treat you crap for being a man, if you're nice to me I'm nice to you, and if you've got problems I'll be the first to listen. I think the only way to improve things is actually listen to each other and working together. It's incredibly sad what's happening over and over again)

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[boofeine]

complicated freak – lsk

pairing: dk x fem reader

genre: smut one shot

synopsis: you feel horrible for pretending to pay attention at anything he might be rambling in front of you right now; your thoughts wherelse, at the image of his thick cock.

warnings: mdni, fingering, dirty talk, roleplay (kinda), one single spank, cum, riding, mention of face riding, fighting dominance, descriptive, protected penetrative sex

song: baby said by maneskin / complicated freak by harry styles / ironically shhh! by viviz also came out :)

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @unlikelysublimekryptonite

Seokmin is a lot of things, but what he's most known for is his sweetness and kindness. That's what draws you in on first place. He's so welcoming, makes your heart flutter just from receiving his attention. You were done for, when you got yourself just a little bit way too into it, into him, the way butterflies come to your stomach when he gets shy on your presence.

It came as a surprise for you too, when he turned a completely different person between sheets. You have no idea in which point you got yourself in here, but it's definitely not your last. You got your body against his more times than you could admit, and crave it more than you think you should. The problem is that he's so soft, it makes you feel dirty for having this thoughts when he's not burried on your pussy.

You feel horrible for pretending to pay attention at anything he might be rambling in front of you right now. Your thoughts wherelse, at the image of his thick dick. He rests his back on the sofa, his spread legs on the floor not doing any good either as you stare at his side profile while he talks.

The outline of his nose making you remember how deliciously it pokes at your clit while he tongue fucks you, a rush of heat spreading on your body up to your cheeks as your core suddenly feel needy for his attention. Every time he looks up to the ceiling like he's thinking what he will say next, gathering his thoughts, your mind is wilding in how you want to climb up that couch and sit on his pretty face.

"What do you think?" Seokmin's voices echoes, making you blink at him, having not a clue what he's talking about as he stares back at you, waiting for some type of response.

"Hm? Sorry?" You tilt your head, not going unnoticed that you weren't paying attention, your heart dropping to a whole, feeling guilty.

"The movies on saturday? That is this one new movie I was talking about..." He starts again but the ache on your pussy is getting unbearable.

"Hum... Hum... Sounds good" You let out. Your hand shamelessly caressing his biceps, going down his arms as you slightly pull it to you. It's not innocently that the motion makes his soft fingers grease against your exposed thighs. You suppress a gasp, your mouth agape, his hands close enough to where you need him the most.

"Oh, sorry" He says, resting his hand on the side of your body instead, as you tug to his arm. Fuck! Why is he so sweet?

He starts talking about something else again. The same guilty creeping through you as you don't pay a single attention, your body going further as if he will be able to read the signs.

"Seokmin, baby..." You interrupt him mid word, his face moving to look at you, the pet name coming out as a surprise to him "I know you want to talk but my pussy is so fucking wet right now" You shamelessly confess as his eyes bulge.

"Oh-" It's all he's able to reply. Your hands that haven't left his arms, pulling it to your legs. His eyes following your motions and back to your face "You know I'm a little sad you weren't listening to me" He says, not true to his words.

"Seokmin... I-" You try.

"No, No" He cuts off immediately "I was saying something that I really wanted you to know but all you can think of it's my cock on your pussy" He mocks, his big hands gripping a hand full of your thighs this time.

"I'm sorry" You pouts and he giggles a little.

"You should be" He says, restraining his hands from your skin as he takes this to where you left it "So, as I was saying, there's this restaurant..."

You groan, your head going back as you get tired of waiting and being nice "Fuck, Seokmin! Shut up" You let out, your hands grabbing and guiding his hand to your pussy. He laughs, he fucking laughs at how desesparate you are. Pushing the skirt of your dress up to expose your clothed core, his fingers greasing over the material as you relax at his touch, your head going back, eyes shut at finally feeling something.

"They do have really good food" He says back about the damn restaurant to provoke you as you grunt, frustrated. He leans a little closer to your face, cupping your cunt through the thong "But don't worry, the only thing I can think of eating is you right now" He lowers his tone to whisper it to you.

"Good" You answer "Thought you'd never shut up" Your smart mouth takes over as he smirks.

His hand pulls your thong to the side, taking a long stroke at your folds as you mewl, a heavy breath getting out like it needed to. Your hips bulking to his hand and legs spreading almost instinctively.

"Shit, you really are wet" he responds. Seokmin gathers the slick up to your clit, massaging the muscle in small circles. the grip you have on his arm getting stronger each motion of his fingers. You're wet enough to hear the sounds of it as he goes down to enter you with his digits. Your nails dig to his skin, your head lowering as your forehead rests where his shoulders and arms meet. The gasps turning into moans as he fucks you. He moves slowly, watching you break.

"Seokmin, baby..." You say gripping his wrist this time. That fucking pet name again, he wont ever get used to it, his cock tightening on his pants. "Wait" you push him out, your cunt pulsating with the loss but just enough to get up and take your thong out and sit on his lap. He welcomes you like he always does, watching you undo his jeans to be met at the sight of his hardening length pressing on his boxers. But before you can even drink in the sight, he's back at pushing two fingers inside you. Your back arch when he curls them inside, getting on your sweet spot.

You moan out his name as he presses the spot continuously with the tip of his fingers. You can't help but roll your eyes, the knot forming on your stomach as an unimaginable amount of arousal slip out of your entrance. "Fuu- ah! Minnie... Not yet, please!" You beg as you feel your legs shake.

Like he's so obedient to you, he stops, restraining his hands as you squirm over him. "You made a show to have it, and now you're going back?" he spits out as you still try to calm down your breathing, eyes slowly opening.

"I want..." You try.

"What? Say it" he demands as his wet hands from your slick goes under his boxers, taking his cock out with a gasp of relieve. You stare at it, the way he spreads the wetness on his cockhead making you whine at the view.

"I want your cock... inside me" You plea as he starts to bump himself, letting out a groan.

"Of course you do" He says smartly with a smirk "Go get a condom on my wallet" He says. You reach for his pocket, knowing he came with anything else, his wallet soon found as you open it, the package on one of his spaces as you take it from it. You throw it somewhere beside you as you immediately start to open the condom. He hands his base, aligning it for you as his other hand digs to your hips, pulling you to him, watching you take over, pressing up on the plastic before sliding it down his length.

He holds you firmly as you take his base instead, guiding his head to your entrance when you get your body up to receive him. You press him inside, feeling the delicious stretch, your body threatening to give up while you slowly sit down on him. You can see his breathing pace fastening, his chest rising and falling, but you're no different, your head going down, your foreheads getting together as you can feel each others breath. You finally bottoms out, your body relaxing while he takes your mouth on his for the first time today. It's all too much, a whine coming out on his lips when his tongue asks for space. The kiss airy and needy as you make out.

When you feel the neediness again, already adjusted to his size, you start rolling your hips, low moans coming from him as he guides you with his hands on your waist. "Fuck!" he swears under his breath, feeling your walls pulsating around his cock. "Was this what you needed, hm? Was that all running on that head while I was talking?" He says, and you just moan, picking up your pace as if it was going to answer him. "The pretty heads, always the nastiest thoughts, isn't it?" But he isn't any different, he thinks. Those thoughts run just the same for him, too.

You are not answering in words but going faster on him. Until even this, It's not enough. Your hips going up just to sit back in. His head going back with a roll of his eyes as you start to bounce on his cock. His hands going back to your ass cheeks, spreading them apart. "Stopped me just to use my cock as your little fuck toy... so unpolite" He speaks again and you groans.

Your palms fastening to press against his lips as he yelps, but you can see the smirk from his eyes. "You don't ever shut up, do you?" You spit out, your thrusts going faster, the skin slapping sounds starting to fill the room "I guess next time I should take my first plan of sitting on your face. At least then you can talk between my legs if that's something you want so much. How does that sound?" You get closer to say those words, your hand prettily silencing him as you stare at his watery glistening eyes. You can feel the way he twitches inside you and the muffled moans coming out. You know he loves it.

You suddenly calm down your pace, turning it into firm deep, slow thrusts. The heat and pleasure building up as you push yourself to the edge. Your walls hugging him tightly as he starts to feel his balls tightening too. "Cum for me, baby. Come on... make it worth it" You talk him through it, his knuckles white from gripping your ass so hard, leaving red marks of his big hands on it.

It comes at a surprise when he bites the skin of your palm, your hands jumping out of him as you yelp "Fuck, Seokmin! Are you crazy!?" You scream, your cheeks turning red. He hands you in place, starting to fuck you instead, thrusts meeting up your hips. You moan, your hands driving its way to his hair so you can tug on something.

"You should learn to behave and talk nicely" He grunts out, the throaty voice and drool over his lips doesn't go unnoticed. Heat collecting around your bodies, both of you getting close to cumming. "Someone has to teach you a really good lesson" He says lastly, his palm arriving to your skin with one loud hard slap on your ass cheek. The skin tingles, your body going stiff and mouth agape, like you stopped breathing for a second, before you finally let it go. Your body shaking as you cum with a breathy moan. Your pussy clenching nonstop as he cums with a loud gasp right after you. His load emptying on the condom.

Both of you rolling your hips messily trying to ride off your highs, until you're tired and giving up. The wetness is thick enough to make him slide out unintentionally as you both whine from the loss.

You sit back on his thighs, staring while he takes off the condom from his flacid length, tying it up with a knot. His balls and inner thighs glistening with your own juices as you hince at the sight, "I'm sorry..." You say it smally, but he smiles.

"It's ok... I love it" He replies, pulling you to him. And for a moment, you two just stay there, tangled up on each other before gathering corage to get up and clean up the mess.

[bc-jpeg]

Thoughts on Grumbo?

I would kill for them. I think they might be the biggest hyperfixation ship in my life, I don't remember this level of insanity with any other fandom before.

I guess it’s not that visible from me, because I prefer to keep my socials blogs kinda clean from rebloging stuff*, AND I don’t draw them so often because I have so much projects on me and no time, it’s kinda sad.

honestly, if I had started, there would have been a huge lecture about grumbo, they have had so much going on for several years, and all the details fit so perfectly into an incredibly interesting dynamic that includes not only the interaction between the two of them, but also the essence of each of them, some character traits, daily habits, traumas and etc.

I'm going to say something that really upsets me. the problem of grumbo's non-popularity is very much based on the fact that their ship does not lie on the surface. it’s not as accessible as other popular ships in this fandom, and this is extremely painful, considering what their history really is.

grumbo are built on much bigger things than just silly interactions between characters that you might notice in episodes, even bigger than scripted lore moments on hermitcraft and life series. everything goes from their very first collabs to this day for several years already, and some micro fragments/clips from their videos are simply NOTHING compared to the context of the whole story. and just a disclaimer: I'm talking about the characters here, not about real people, the whole story only falls on their characters.

I often see that people may not understand grumbo’s ship dynamic at all simply because they watch only one pov (mostly grian). in this case, I beg you to watch both povs, you miss a lot if you watch only one person. in general, you can also watch third-party people with them! last life grumbo are also built on martyn's pov, for example.

I am so happy that their story started spinning again at the end of the hc s9 due to mumbo’s return, now in hc s10 + WHATEVER IS GOING ON in life series (especially in life series, because mumbo has NEVER had such possessive moments about grian before).

“forget the cactus ring, the desert i'm stuck in is sahara”

* I often reblog things from @mwapollo because he can put everything into right words MUCH better than me, especially when we discussing it all on a daily basis together, so we literally have the same vision about grumbo. I just really want all of his thoughts to be seen in this fandom. ykw I would turn it into shout-out, GO TO @mwapollo’s blog I DARE you. if you’re a grumbo fan, his blog is my first recommendation to go to.

[cat-tyy]

Actually something pops into my head.

I just don't know how to start it lol

When I found a kid frantically slashing at the rose bushes, with a sword not mend for his size, it struck to me. I'm in sleeping beauty's story. I was wonder if I could interfere this time. "Hello child" I called, with a smaller voice than intended. "Who goes there?!" "Show yourself at ones!" the panicking child is seeking with desperation in his eyes. "Ah, sorry, I wasn't.. Trying to scare you." looking the boy up and down i continued "people usually don't react to me..." a loud silence. "Are you a witch!? People go on and on about witches these days! Show yourself! Leave my friend alone!" the child keeps getting angry with everything he says. "N-no I'm not, more of a ghost?" "atleast don't stammer when you lie to me! You're definitely a witch! Or a wizard, are you a wizard? Can you help my friend please?" the child has a lot of doubts in his voice but his eyes keep looking at the fast growing bushes. "Are the bushes always doing this? " trying to break the situation away from me and redirecting his growing angry at the bushes. Without saying anything he goes back to chopping.

He doesn't seem to hear me anymore, everything I say falls to deaf ears. Well it was fun while it lasted. The child, the prince if i remember correctly, was supposed to save the princess who fell to eternal sleep or something. With a kiss of true love? I looked at the kid, who just wants to save his friend. I can't remember anyone who was at the prince's side in the story. While I was just talking with myself, we got to the entrance of the castle.

Everyone was moving and busy. No one was sleeping along? I thought that that was part of the story. Prince just storms in and everyone seems to ignore him. Is that how you can treat a prince? The prince makes an dramatic entrance by full swinging the door "ROSA! Let's get some sun today!" the prince looks at her with desperation in. "I'm not going... You know I can't come..." the girl sound so incredibly sad, she doesn't look up to look at him. Just tucks her blanket over her head.

After listen for awhile hearing those children speak, laugh and snack on things the prince took with him. I figured out the girl, Rosa, has heard the story about the spinning wheel when she was 10 years or so, after finding out she refused to get out of her bed and her family didn't do anything to get her out and eventually she got the ability to grow those rose. My time here is almost over and i still can't make myself clear, I can't hug them i can't console them nor can I shout at the adults who didn't even help a child with problems far larger than she could handle. I get a weird question in my head again "WHAT DID YOU LEARN THIS TIME?" it announced judt like everytime. "The a adults in this world are garbage and should all be replaced! Well thats not really a phrase... Let's go with, friends over family" proudly I pop back in my room and decide to sleep for a while. "I really hope those kids will find a better place"

As an adult you keep getting pulled into a fantastical world meant for children to learn lessons. The problem is you keep learning the wrong lesson.

[allllium]

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

[avatar-anna]

Never Really Over

a little bit of divorced!harry for your consideration

"I just wanna see him."

Y/n gave her ex a long look, not betraying the warring emotions swirling in her belly. Harry rarely showed up this late. He rarely showed up unannounced, for that matter. It made things easier—seeing him when she could prepare herself for the encounter. Now he was here on her doorstep, hair messy and eyes all pleading and sad.

"I just put him to bed, H," Y/n sighed. It wasn't that she didn't want to keep Harry from their son, but it was way too late, and it wasn't his week.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Y/n had been feeling particularly lonely lately and seeing her ex husband be all sweet with their son would make her think traitorous thoughts.

"I know, I know, I've just... I've had a long day, and I just want to see him. I won't even wake him up, I swear. I just want to sit with him."

Despite the divorce, Y/n still knew Harry struggled with the demise of their relationship, and she did too, even if she was the one who ultimately filed. They were five months in, but she felt like no time had passed at all. She floated between half expecting Harry to walk through the door like he used to and frustrated by the way their relationship turned so tumultuous by the end. It was all too complicated, which was why she preferred Harry's visits to be planned. It helped her to compartmentalize.

But she saw the look in his eyes and couldn't help but empathize with her ex-husband.

He looked tired and lost and maybe even at his wits end a little. She knew that look well, she recognized it every time she looked in the mirror on the days Harry had their son. She knew what it was like to have a bad day and want nothing more than to hold their little bub and let him wash away every bit of stress and frustration. Y/n did everything she could to not go completely out of her mind when it was Harry's week with their son, and she imagined that her ex felt similarly.

"Twenty minutes," she said, opening the door further and stepping to the side.

Harry's shoulders sagged with relief. He stepped toward Y/n as if he was going to hug her, then seemed to think better of it and went straight inside.

Y/n stayed downstairs while Harry went up, letting him have a private moment with their son. She cleaned up in the meantime, putting away stray toys and books and fluffing couch cushions and refolding blankets. Anything to not think of Harry with her son, or the soft look he always got when he gazed down at their little boy. It had always been her kryptonite, and she wasn't sure she'd gotten over it yet.

A little while later, Harry came back downstairs. Having organized and straightened up everything she possibly could, Y/n settled on the couch with the glass of wine she'd promised herself earlier that day. She'd wanted to have it in her bed with her book, but she settled for scrolling on her phone until her ex eventually left.

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice soft, careful not to wake the five year old upstairs. "You didn't have to do that, but I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it," Y/n said, trying to appear like seeing him didn't have an effect on her the way it used to.

"Really, Y/n, I owe you."

"Let's not go and make promises you can't keep again," she muttered.

Y/n felt guilty as soon as she said it. They were having a civil moment, a rarity since the whirlwind of their divorce. She hadn't meant to pick at old wounds and make them bleed again. Her response was a reflex more than anything, one that she couldn't keep in check when she was tired.

"I'm not the one who filed for divorce, Y/n," Harry said, a dark cloud of emotion overtaking his face. "If anyone broke promises, it was you."

"Those vows were broken long before we got divorced, and you know it," Y/n said, that old fire that was more of a dull ember these days rising to the surface.

Harry and Y/n fell in love hard and fast, both loving each other fiercely and with everything cell in their body. Their relationship had been full of passion and intensity and so much love it was almost suffocating. But it also meant that they fought just as hard. Their arguments often blazed and burned bright, then fizzled out until they were in each other's arms again as if nothing had happened.

Until the arguments got bigger.

And longer.

And Y/n just couldn't take it anymore.

Y/n could tell that the anger simmering in Harry's eyes was more for show. She could see the sadness, perhaps even loneliness, in those lovely green eyes of his. And maybe her anger was a little more bravado than genuine hurt too. Maybe it was easier to slip into familiar habits and poke at old wounds than admit the truth.

She missed him.

"Don't make me the villain here. You—"

"I don't want to fight with you," she said before Harry could volley anything back. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm sorry. It's been a long day for me, and I'm assuming yours wasn't a walk in the park either."

Harry didn't say anything, or do anything, for a moment. Then, he let his head drop, his shoulders slumping a little. Feeling more than a little bad for kicking him while he was down, Y/n stood up from the couch and fetched another glass before pouring some wine in it for her ex. "Here," she said. "A peace offering. You look like you could use it."

With a laugh that held no humor in it, he took it and raised the glass to his mouth, and Y/n tried hard not to stare at his lips. Or the column of his throat as it bobbed when he took a sip. Or—

"Is this one of mine?"

Y/n willed her cheeks not to flush. "I might've snagged a few bottles from your collection before we sold the house. Most of them went untouched anyways."

"They were aging," Harry said, a little of that humor and charm she fell in love with sparking in his eyes, the lines of his face. "You're supposed to let the bottles rest for a few years until they're at their peak, and then you drink them."

Y/n shrugged. "If you wait too long it goes bad and you miss out on a perfectly good bottle altogether, and then you do all that waiting for nothing."

She didn't mean anything by it, but both of them recognized the subtle truth in regards to their own relationship. Y/n wondered if they would ever be over this part. The stumbling through conversations and trying to avoid dangerous subjects that were littered between them like a minefield.

"Are you saying that's what happened with us?" Harry asked after taking another sip. "That I waited too long to appreciate what was right in front of me? What was perfect in every way the whole time?"

"I was talking about wine, not us."

"You've always been perfect in my eyes, Y/n," Harry said. "You and that perfect angel upstairs. Both of you are my entire world."

"Don't," Y/n said, taking a step back when she realized how close together they were.

"I miss you," Harry said, his voice hitching in his throat. "I miss waking up to our baby snuggled between us. I miss holding your hand while we watch him play at the park. I miss building pillow forts and playing pretend. I miss you, Y/n. I miss being loved by you. I hate that we're divorced. I hate that I signed those stupid papers and let you walk away."

Her throat suddenly felt dry, her heart pumping in her chest so hard she worried he might hear it. Blinking, Y/n tried to maintain the thread of composure holding her together. "You've had a long day. I can tell you need rest—"

"Don't patronize me," he said, stepping closer and closing the small distance between them once more. When Y/n didn't try to widen it again, Harry continued. "If you don't miss me, if you don't still feel what I feel, then say that. But if you do..."

Harry took Y/n's glass and set it down on the coffee table along with his own. He straightened up, one free hand lightly caressing your face, his thumb grazing across her cheek with a touch so delicate she barely felt it. It was agonizing. To have him right there, just the way she used to, and only get a phantom touch. It was maddening.

So maddening, that when he leaned in, Y/n didn't stop him.

She might have whimpered, and her knees might have slightly buckled, and she might have clutched her shirt between her fingers in a desperate, iron grip as Harry slid his mouth against hers, but she would deny it if he said anything about it later.

His kiss was all-consuming, he'd been a ghost in her new life for months, and suddenly he was everywhere—on her tongue, in her hands, against her chest. And she nearly forgot how explosive kissing him was. How it was almost like a dance that they'd mastered but were always learning new and exciting steps to. The softness of her ex's lips were as familiar as ever, but the stubble on his cheeks was new. She didn't recognize the shirt he wore, but she knew the body beneath it almost as well as her own. And his hands—

"We can't—We're not—Harry—"

Over the years, Y/n had grown used to the feeling of Harry's wedding band against her skin. When he held her hand, when he cupped her cheek, when he was spreading her open or landing a firm slap to her ass. It was familiar, a part of him that just seemed intrinsic after they got married.

But now, as she placed her hand over the one that held the side of her face as he kissed along her throat, it wasn't there. The band was gone, they weren't married anymore, and they certainly shouldn't be kissing like they still were.

"Just this once," Harry murmured, pressing the words along the curve of her jaw. "It's been so long, baby. I just want to feel you again. We can still be divorced after. Like last time."

Flames licked Y/n's core as she remembered the night in question. It had been the night the divorce had been finalized. Harry and Y/n signed and initialed every dotted line, the lawyers shook hands and left, then Harry and Y/n went their separate ways

Harry still insisted that her late-night message about a few of his possessions that got mixed in with her things was meant to have some kind of subtext, and Y/n would swear until she was blue in the face that her text was innocent, even if the activities that followed Harry coming over to "pick up" said items were anything but. It was a final goodbye. It was closing a chapter on a book neither of them ever really believed would end.

"Last time was supposed to be the last time," Y/n said, her voice shallow and not at all convincing.

"Tell me you don't want me right now," Harry said, his hand creeping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. Y/n's mouth opened in a strangled gasp, too aroused and too in love with him still to push him away. "Tell me not to set you down on the kitchen counter and let me love on that pussy the way I used to. Tell me not to haul you upstairs and fuck you hard for breaking us up when we could've had this every. Single. Day."

Harry's last words were punctuated by the thrust of his fingers inside Y/n, each one making her curl around him tight. He lifted her into his arms and set her on the couch, the closest surface in the vicinity that wasn't hardwood flooring. His fingers still moving inside her, pumping slowly, he pressed a bruising kiss to her lips.

"Tell me not to love you anymore," he said, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. "Tell me how to fall out of love with you. Tell me how to not dream of you. Tell me how to not want you anymore."

Y/n, who had succumbed to this moment, this lapse in...whatever it was, could only grip her ex's hair as he worked her over with his fingers, each word he spoke a balm to the loneliness these last months brought. She wasn't ready to start seeing someone else after the divorce, but now she worried no one would ever measure up to Harry. He ruined her for any other man who might try to sweep her off her feet in the future.

"Tell me, Y/n, and I'll let you come."

Y/n was a mess. She could hear it as Harry's fingers slid in and out of her quickly and harshly, then slowing down before she could finish. He used to do it all the time, knowing how worked up it made her, and now he knew nothing had changed.

"I—" she gasped. She was so close she could barely think straight. Harry's desperate words and the way his fingers curled inside her had her seeing stars. But if she knew her ex, he would stay there and edge her until she gave him what he wanted. "I don't know. I don't know how to make it stop. Please let me come."

Having thought she'd given him what he wanted, Y/n prepared herself for an earth-shattering orgasm. She surrendered herself to tonight, to him, even if she regretted it in the morning. Even if secretly she didn't, which would make her feel even worse.

But instead of pushing her over the edge, Harry removed his fingers from her altogether. The whine Y/n let out at the loss was perhaps a little undignified, but she couldn't think straight with the thick cloud of lust looming over her.

"Wh—"

"We're going to do this properly," he said, scooping her up into his arms and heading back upstairs, taking a left toward her bedroom. Their little angel boy was down the hall on the right side, but Y/n knew they still had to be quiet.

Once behind the closed door of her bedroom, they were both quick to shed each other of their clothes. Stitching ripped, a button or two flew, socks tossed carelessly to corners of the room they'd probably forget about later until there wasn't an ounce of fabric between them.

There wasn't time to stand and appreciate. This wasn't a romantic moment. It was desperate, a little angry, and intense in the way it always has been between them. Y/n kissed her ex-husband hard, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip and soothing the ache with her tongue until he eventually flipped her over onto her stomach.

"You can't be here by the time he wakes up tomorrow," Y/n managed to say. "I don't want to confuse him."

"I know," Harry said, lining himself up with her entrance. "But wouldn't it be so nice if I did?"

"Harry—"

"Relax, baby, I'll abide by your rules," he said, his voice a soft caress. "Just let me have you tonight, and then I'll be gone."

Harry slid in with one smooth thrust, Y/n's mouth dropping open in response. She hadn't been stretched this way in months, and the feel of him inside her again as if nothing had changed...

"Fuck, Harry. I'm—I'm so close," she moaned, unable to say much more than that.

His movements were torturously slow, prolonging the climax he'd been teasing out of her on the couch. Then he leaned over her, his body pressing deliciously against hers.

"We may be separated, but you're still mine," he said, his words accented by his own pleasure. "These hips? Mine. Your tits? Mine. This little cunt? Well, she already knows. Absolutely drenching me. And tonight, I'm going to make sure you remember that."

Y/n could only whimper and wait to take whatever her ex-husband was willing to give her.

*.*

Y/n was having the best dream.

Sun streamed through the small crack in her bedroom curtains as she snuggled under the weight of the warmest, coziest blanket. She held onto it, wrapping it tighter around her, hoping to get a couple more minutes of sleep before her son eventually barged in and demanded they start their day.

She had a million things to do, but none of it seemed to matter while she slept. She felt relaxed in a way she hadn't in a long time.

Then the dream seemed to change. The cozy blanket became an arm draped over her, a leg tangled between her own, and a firm body pressed against her back. The unknown form wrapped around her began to kiss along her bare back, the arm tightening its grip around her waist. Her stomach flipped as a hand began to play with her breast.

She hadn't had one of those dreams in a long time, either.

Before the dream could go any further, Y/n regrettably began to feel the pinpricks of consciousness. But as she blinked her eyes open, she still felt that weight of another body next to hers, of someone other than herself occupying her bed.

It was then that last night made an appearance in her mind, recalling every dirty detail of how she'd given into her ex-husband.

"Good morning."

Harry's voice was low and gruff as if he'd only just woken up himself. The puffs of his breaths dusted over Y/n's skin and sent goosebumps all over. She didn't understand how her body, even while it was still waking up, was so responsive to him.

As casually as possible, she said, "You weren't supposed to stay over."

"Honestly, I don't even remember falling asleep," Harry admitted, though he made no move to leave her Y/n's bed.

"You have to go before he wakes up," she insisted, even if her body was completely against that idea. "He can't find you here. If he does, he'll have questions, and—"

Before Y/n could even finish, she heard the soft patter of feet against soft carpet. Then her door creaked open, and the light of her life appeared.

"Daddy!"

Y/n rested her hands over her face, but not before seeing Harry's broad grin out of the corner of her eye, one that was nearly identical to the little boy at the foot of the bed.

"Hey, buddy," Harry said, his voice less husky than it was just moments ago. "What are you doing up so early, huh?"

"Why are you in bed with Mommy?" the boy asked, climbing into bed with his parents and wriggling around until he was snuggled between them.

Wasn't that the question, Y/n thought, though she was in no rush to help Harry.

"Mummy and Daddy decided to have a sleepover," Harry explained.

"Oh. Well, why didn't you invite me?"

"Because..." Y/n felt Harry's gaze on her, but she was not inclined to dig him out of this hole. Their night was over. It was a new day, which meant everything was back to the way it was before Harry came over last night. "Because I wanted to surprise you this morning. We're all going to spend the day together. Just the three of us."

"Yay!"

"What?"

Y/n glared over the top of her son's head as he half-hugged half-tackled Harry from sheer excitement. This was definitely not reverting back to their normal routine of co-parenting and seeing each other only when it was necessary. Harry, who looked thoroughly pleased with himself, slid out of bed with their boy still latched into him.

Thankfully, he was wearing underwear, but that didn't help Y/n much. She couldn't help but stare at his muscles flexing as he stood and stretched while he held their son. At all the tattoos that littered his body and the mess of curls on his head. He had no right to look this good in the morning, especially when Y/n knew for a fact that she always looked haggard no matter what when she first woke up.

Not that her appearance in front of her ex mattered to her.

"Come on, let's start with making your mum some breakfast. I'm thinking...waffles?"

"Do not make a mess of my kitchen, Harry," Y/n warned, not even bothering to protest the idea in its entirety. She wouldn't have been able to tell her son no even if he tried. Not with how excited he looked at the prospect of spending the day with his dad.

"We'll clean up after ourselves, I promise," Harry said with a wink in your direction. "You stay there and rest. I know you had a...long night."

Y/n threw a pillow at Harry's retreating form before flopping back into her bed. She had half a mind to strut right over to him and prove him wrong, but, well, the dull ache between her legs was starting to make itself known, and the damage of her son seeing Harry in her bed was already done. She might as well stay in bed and take the morning off if Harry was offering.

Sighing, Y/n ran a tired hand over her face as one realization after another made themselves known.

Everything about last night and this morning was messy and would no doubt bring about consequences and difficult conversations she wasn't inclined to have. There were questions she didn't want to ask or know the answer to, but one thing was abundantly clear:

She was well and truly fucked.

[hippiegoth97]

I Wanna Be Your Lover: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

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Description: You, Eddie, and the rest of the Hellfire Club go on a camping trip in the summer. You've been in said club for years, and harbor strong feelings for your handsome leader. You want him to like you back, especially now that you're 18 and have finished school. Will Eddie reciprocate these feelings? Or are you just 'one of the guys' to him?

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, female reader, smoking, mentions of vomit, alcohol use, teasing, grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise, light degradation, semi-public sex, talk of sexual history, dirty talk

Word Count: 22.7k

divider by @firefly-graphics

I Wanna Be Your Lover

"Will you guys stop fighting please? I don't wanna get lost." Eddie calls to the back of the van, where Dustin and Erica are arguing over which horse from My Little Pony is best. Erica claims it's Applejack, whereas Dustin insists it's Bubbles. You can't help finding their little squabble entertaining, Dustin doesn't seem the type to enjoy such a childish show.

"Yeah, I'm trying to help navigate here." You chime in through a giggle, a large map from the last rest stop splayed out on your lap in the passenger seat. You agreed to assist Eddie in finding the campsite on your little trip, one you've all been planning since a little bit before graduation. A trip exclusively for Hellfire Club members.

You've been in the club since your sophomore year at Hawkins High. Eddie picked you out as a little lost sheep stranded in a sea of ruthless tigers. You were apprehensive to join at first, especially given Eddie's rather forward nature. You'd heard of Dungeons and Dragons before, it even sounded a little intriguing. But your parents thought things like that were a gateway into dangerous behavior and sexual deviance. Eddie insisted on your membership, however, going so far as to say he could see how lonely and sad you were. You didn't take offense, it was certainly true. You've never been one to have a lot of friends, if any at all.

Eddie took you under his wing, making his first attempt at senior year at the time. He showed you the ropes, and helped you build your first character. But he made it clear that he had no intention of taking it easy on you, and you wouldn't have expected it. Your first game didn't go super well, the dice and turns were confusing for you and you died pretty quickly. But no one in the group made you feel bad about it, especially not Eddie. He gave a sympathetic smile after the campaign concluded, telling you your skills will improve over time. You appreciated his patience, as the next few games afterwards slowly got easier to understand.

By the time you'd entered your final year of school, you became Eddie's second in command. You're a certified master in the game now, skillfully thinking quick on your feet and giving your DM a run for his money. Your fearless leader is notorious for making the campaigns as sadistic as humanly possible. But you never relent, and you never give up. Gathering with this band of misfits is ultimately one of the best things you've ever had in life. The feeling of holding your own and even occasionally winning is borderline euphoric.

"Turn left up here, Eds. Just twenty more miles until we reach the campground, guys!" You announce, gaining cheers from everyone sandwiched into the back of the van. Erica, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Jeff, Gareth, and Alex have been stuffed uncomfortably together for the last six hours. A pile of coolers, tents, and duffle bags are shoved into the corner of their seating area, threatening to topple over with one ill-timed bump in the road. The stereo quietly plays one of Eddie's many mixtapes, and all you can see out the windows is a large expanse of lush green trees on either side of the gravel road you're riding along. The sky is bright and blue overhead, and it's a cool ninety-seven degrees on this July morning as the sun beats down on the world.

"Thank fuck, we're boiling back here!" Jeff complains, wiping sweat from his brow. It definitely hasn't been an easy ride, as the van's A/C is nonexistent. You've told Eddie many times to take it in to get it fixed, but he swears up and down that it's fine.

"I can always stop and let you all walk the rest of the way." Eddie warns teasingly, a smart smile playing about his face.

"NO!" Everyone shouts, knowing that walking in this heat would be even worse.

"Good. Then shut the hell up!" Eddie barks, he's finding himself feeling rather peeved today. The heat, and the long drive, along with everyone bitching is really getting on his nerves. "You mind lighting a smoke for me, Y/N?" He asks, glancing at you. His voice has calmed at seeing your pretty face, which makes you smile beyond your control. You've always had a crush on Eddie, finding him sweet and charming. Well, most of the time. You'd never tell him though, you don't think he likes you like that. He treats you like one of the guys. You don't mind it, but you can't help wishing for him to see you as the blossoming young woman you are. You're all done with school now, and well into your eighteenth year of existence. But he hasn't seemed to notice, or at least he acts like he doesn't.

"Sure thing." You reply, trying not to blush at his big brown eyes staying on you a little longer than usual. You reach for the pack, slipping one of the paper tubes from it. "You mind if I have one too?" You ask without even thinking about it. Eddie's eyes widen at your question. You're not one to smoke, or drink, or do much of anything like that at all. Hell, you blush redder than a tomato at the tame side of his dirty jokes.

"Since when do you smoke?" He inquires with a raised eyebrow, wondering what's up with you.

"I dunno, figured I'd try it. You seem to enjoy it." You say sheepishly, looking away. You feel dumb for even asking now.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Okay, jeez. Knock yourself out, princess. Just don't waste it, alright?" Concern blooms inside his head, he'll try to figure out what your deal is later.

"Okay. I won't." You pull another cig from the box, putting it in your mouth. You give Eddie his, placing it between his plush lips. You flick the lighter, reaching it over to light his tip, and then bringing the flame to your own. You inhale, a little too deeply. The smoke is bitter and cloying, making you cough.

"Jesus, you alright?" Eddie asks, bringing a hand to pat your back gently. The touch of his calloused fingers through your tank top makes you stiffen, and you feel even hotter than before.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You gasp out the words, annoyed at yourself for being so stupid. You calm down after a minute, shooing away the worried faces on the kids packed in the backseat. You take another drag like nothing happened, ignoring the sudden urge to cry in embarrassment. You inhale and exhale just fine the second time around, although you don't enjoy the taste very much. But you want Eddie to see you're all grown up now, ripe for the taking. All he has to do is reach out and pluck you.

"'Kay, just take it easy. Can't have my right hand girl dyin' on me, right?" He chuckles, shaking his head. He's confused as to why you're acting like this, suddenly so eager to prove your maturity to him. Sure, he knows you're grown up now. Transforming from the little lost lamb he found in the cafeteria, into a beautiful gazelle frolicking enthusiastically into adulthood. He's been attracted to you for quite some time, you're the girl of his dreams. But he's worried that you're not ready for him, that maybe you're still too green. Age isn't the issue for him, you're eighteen now and you're both done with school. Although, your perceived lack of experience makes him wonder if he'd somehow be taking advantage in pursuing you.

"Right." You say shortly, returning your attention to the map as you continue to smoke. You can feel his eyes sweeping to you every so often, but you avoid his gaze. You flick the ash when it threatens to fall and burn a hole through the thin paper below, looking for the next indication of when Eddie should turn.

Thirty minutes and a few more turns later, and you've finally made it to Piney Ridge Campground and Nature Reserve. Eddie pulls the van up to the kiosk at the entrance. The park ranger inside asks for the confirmation of your reservation, and hands Eddie a pamphlet with a map that shows your spot, along with trails to the lake, supply shop, bathrooms/shower shack, and hiking areas. He hands it off to you, pulling away from the gruff man in the kiosk after listening to his spiel about not leaving food out as the wildlife will surely steal it.

You open the pamphlet, directing Eddie down the path to find your designated campsite, number 106. The space is quite large, perfect for your group. There's a weather-beaten picnic table and ashy fire pit included in the area, with plenty of shade from the large trees outstretching overhead. Eddie pulls into the parking space beside the site, killing the engine. "Alright, here it is. Our home sweet home for the next three days." He grins, glancing at you again as you struggle to fold up all the papers in your lap.

"Hell yeah!" Mike cheers, opening the back doors to let everyone hop out and start setting up tents. The sleeping arrangements are pretty simple. You and Erica will share a smaller tent since you're the only girls. Then there's Mike, Dustin, and Lucas in another. And the final one will house Alex, Jeff, and Gareth. Eddie insists on staying in his van, as he hates sleeping on the ground. You find this a bit silly, since this trip was initially his idea. But you don't find any reason to argue, he usually wins anyway.

Everyone pitches in with setting up the tents and rolling out the sleeping bags, getting everything ready for your first night out in the wilderness. You're all sweaty by the end of it, sitting around and panting lazily in the humid air around 1pm. "Who's hungry for lunch?" You ask, going back into the van to retrieve the cooler containing the sandwich supplies. Ham, American cheese, turkey, mayo, mustard, and Wonder Bread from the bag of dry goods. You set to work making everyone's plates, planning on serving up the sandwiches with potato chips and canned soda.

"Ya know, you don't have to baby us, Y/N. We're perfectly capable of feeding ourselves." Eddie says, sitting next to you with his feet facing outward from the table. You're spreading mayo on Dustin's ham and cheese, letting your eyes meet Eddie's for the first time in a good while.

You smile kindly. "I know, but I don't mind it. You're all my boys, and girl." You say, nudging your head at Erica. "I like taking care of you guys." You speak sweetly, you cherish the connection you have with your friends. You had wanted a group to call your own for so long, and now you have the best one you could ever ask for.

"Whatever you say, princess." Eddie chuckles, looking you up and down. You suddenly feel self-conscious in your tank top and shorts, exposed under his curious examination. You take a chance of your own to drink in his appearance. He's in rare form today, wearing cut-off jean shorts and a cropped Metallica muscle tee. His hair is tied up, keeping it out of his face in the dreadful heat. He looks really good like this, showing off his tattoos and lightly toned arms and stomach. He winks when he catches you staring a little too long, making your cheeks flare beet red.

You return your attention to the sandwich, realizing you've been putting on a borderline pile of mayonnaise on it. "Shit." You mutter, cursing your spaced-out spell.

"Need some help?" Eddie asks, extending a hand for a knife to assist you in spreading condiments on the bread. You nod apprehensively, glancing around to see everyone else preoccupied with other activities to notice your interaction. Most are relaxing in their tents, poking their heads out to talk to one another, and Erica is reading a book on the other side of the bench. You hand Eddie a plastic knife, and he turns around in his seat to be level with you. "You doin' alright today? You've been acting weird since the drive over here." He almost mumbles, making you think you imagined it at first. But when you turn to look at his face, he's expectantly waiting for an answer.

You swallow hard, realizing his shoulder is just barely brushing against your own. "Um...yeah. It's just my first trip away from home without my family, that's all." You lie, pushing away the idea that the handsome young man beside you is the reason for your change in behavior.

"Oh, okay. You're not gonna get homesick on me, are ya?" He asks, giving you a playful nudge. You giggle at the tickle of his elbow against your ribs.

"No, I'm not." You shake your head. You want to loosen up, to not be so goddamn stiff. You'll only give yourself away.

"Good, because I really want you to enjoy yourself." He replies, leaning closer to say the words into your ear. His breath fanning over you sends a chill up your spine, making you shiver outside of your control. He half-laughs at your reaction, finding it absolutely adorable. Shit, this trip is gonna be interesting to say the least. You're about to ask what he means, when you realize the food is ready. He moves away from you without another word, taking the plates to dish them out to everyone. "Eat up, shitheads! I wanna get a good hike in today."

Everyone gathers round, sitting at the table or in fold-up chairs you brought while you munch down your pre-hike fuel. The group keeps up light conversation, cracking jokes and busting each others' balls as usual. Eddie has another cigarette, gesturing the box at you from across the makeshift circle you've formed. You nod, and he approaches you. You clumsily pull a cig from the pack, almost missing as you try to put it in your mouth. He flicks the lighter, bending down real close to start the burn on the end. His large eyes bore into yours, and time stands still for a second before he backs away again. "Thanks." You say simply, and he just nods.

You take a deep, long drag, savoring how light and fuzzy your head feels as the nicotine works its way through your body. You exhale, barely holding back a satisfied moan. You're starting to like smoking now, and the taste isn't bothering you as much this time. "Taking a liking to it, I see." Eddie says, bringing everyone's attention to you. You sense he's testing you, trying to get you to fold under pressure. But for what purpose?

"I guess." You shrug nonchalantly, bringing the filtered end to your lips again. Act natural, you tell yourself. It's best to hold one's own and ride it out when it comes to Eddie finding reason to 'challenge' someone. Everyone else watches closely, always eager to see where something like this goes.

"Looks like our girl is all grown up then." He says, exhaling a large puff of white into the air.

"You could say that. What's it to you, anyway?" You retort defensively, crossing your arms. He's really puzzling you today. Earlier it seemed like he was flirting with you, and now he's acting like nothing happened.

He grins, and you see now that he's got you right where he wants you. "Well, last I checked you used to lecture me about how smoking kills, Y/N. That my lungs will turn black and I'll end up with a hole in my throat." He gestures dramatically at his chest and neck as he speaks, working his way back over to you with every word. The other members snicker at his display. "And now you're picking up the habit yourself? It must not be so bad if you're gonna go back on your own principles. So which is it, Y/N? Are you a liar, or a hypocrite?" He asks snarkily, standing just beside the table now as he looks down at you.

You don't say anything for a moment. Your mouth opens and closes as you think of what to come back at him with. You sense the others staring, waiting for you to accept defeat. But you know better than to yield so easily. "Neither. I've just changed my mind on the subject. People are capable of maturing, Eds. Not that you'd know anything about it." You reply with a smirk, continuing to enjoy your cigarette. You blow a cloud of smoke up into his face to emphasize your point. The others laugh at your comment, which would usually earn them a glare from Eddie. But not this time, he's too busy admiring the mischievous sparkle in your eyes.

"If you say so, sweetheart." He smiles in reply, telepathically congratulating you on standing your ground. Eddie sure likes to tease, but he means it all in good fun. Most of the time. Everyone gathers up the trash and puts the food back in the coolers, changing shoes to set off on your journey. "So, is everyone ready?" He asks, bestowing Dustin with a backpack to carry the supplies your group might need on the hike. Sunscreen, trail mix, bug spray, bottled water, and so on.

"And why do I have to carry this?" Dustin asks, annoyed at being stuck with the weight to carry.

"Because I said so, dingus. And I trust you not to lose it, unlike these knuckleheads." Eddie explains, gesturing at the others. You don't take offense to this comment, you know he's not talking about you. And you sure as shit don't wanna carry all that stuff.

"Fine, it's not like I'm missing collarbones or anything." Dustin replies snarkily, slinging the bag on his shoulders.

"Alright, everyone. We're gonna have Jeff and Gareth leading the charge with the map, then Alex and Mike, Dustin in the middle with the pack, Erica and Lucas, and then me and Y/N in back to make sure nobody is left behind. Sound good?" Eddie speaks decisively to the group, and you can't help being mesmerized by his leadership. He's such a natural at it, so sure of himself with every word. Everyone nods in agreement to the arrangement, lining up in the assigned pairs with Dustin in the center. "Cool! Let's go!" He claps his hands together, and Jeff and Gareth begin to walk down the set path to find the hiking trail. The line spreads out a little, giving allowance for anyone wanting to speed up or slow down periodically throughout your adventure.

"I never took you for such an outdoorsman, Eds." You say to Eddie with a giggle as you walk beside him. The others are pretty quiet, focused on taking in the lush surroundings and not getting lost.

"Oh, well, ya know...it was something Wayne and I used to do a lot. It's pretty cheap, and you can just get away from everything for a while." He speaks cheerily of those fond memories, but you can sense a slight tinge of sadness there too.

"You don't camp with him anymore?" You ask, always curious to know more about this young man you're hopelessly crushing on.

He shakes his head. "Nah, he's always too busy now. And I guess I am too, working at the hardware store and shit. I consider myself lucky to have gotten these couple days off. So I wanna make the most of it." He fixes his smile, trying not to bum you out.

"I'll make damn sure we do, then!" You exclaim, leaning over to brush his shoulder with yours. "I wish your uncle could've come with, though. I bet he's got some good campfire stories." You're really enjoying this conversation, it's not often that Eddie talks about his home life. You think he probably hides it so people don't feel sorry for him, so you're gonna do everything in your power to not give him that impression.

"You bet your ass he does. I know them all by heart, actually. I can tell a few tonight if you want." He offers, looking at you with kind eyes. He really appreciates you being so sweet to him. He's not one to trust others with personal information so easily. But you're different, special. He feels like he can tell you anything. And not only do you refrain from judging him, you make him feel like everything is fine, normal. He's never had a whole lot of that in his life, so your presence is certainly a welcome one.

"I'd love that! He can be with us in spirit, I imagine he'd appreciate it." You reply, stopping for a moment to admire some purple wildflowers on the side of the trail. You crouch beside them, gazing at their lush petals and stalk-like stems that house multiple blossoms at once. They're quite breathtaking, though you're not sure what kind they are. Eddie joins you, checking to make sure you won't fall behind the rest of the group. Satisfied with his findings, he reaches into the little clump of flowers, picking the very best one from the largest stalk. You turn to look at him, and he's much closer than you originally thought. Your heartbeat picks up slightly, wondering what he's up to. He brings the hand holding the flower towards your temple, tucking the tiny nub of stem in your hair so the blossom is displayed beside your face. He smiles at how cute you look, eyes flicking to your lips.

"A pretty flower, for a beautiful girl." He says quietly, letting his outstretched hand rest on your cheek. You're frozen in place, unable to stop staring into those huge doe eyes of his. You swear he's just about to lean in and kiss you, when-

"Hey guys! Mike found a family of toads! Come check it out!" Lucas calls to you, interrupting your romantic(?) moment. Eddie's hand falls from your face, causing your heart to fracture like a smashed mirror. He stands up, and you follow. You both pretend nothing happened here, jogging to catch up with the others. You see them huddled around Mike holding up a large rock. Thick mud and dead leaves stick to the bottom of it, and in the moist gap left behind is a plump mama toad, with five little baby toads sitting on and around her.

"Aw, they're so cute!" You coo. Your heart mends a little the wholesome display of wonder on all the club members' faces.

"Where'd you get the flower?" Erica asks as the others take turns naming the little amphibians.

You meet her gaze, and you can tell she knows something's up. You look at Eddie a moment, seeing him preoccupied with assisting the boys in their little game. "Oh, um...I found some on the trail. I just thought it was pretty." You say unconvincingly, unable to hold back the blush darkening your cheeks.

"Mmhmm, sure." Is all she says in reply. She knows damn well that Eddie put that flower in your hair, but she can tell you don't want to talk to an eleven-year-old child about it. The blatantly obvious attraction between you and Eddie has been a very hot topic as of late with the other members. You're not exactly subtle, exchanging longing glances and getting extra touchy with each other. They honestly wish you two would just hook up already and stop dancing around your feelings. It's almost painful to watch you ping-pong off one another when you could just be on the same damn team.

"Alright, guys. Let's keep it moving. Princess Snugglebutt and her legion of offspring have better things to do than be gawked at by a bunch of nerds." Eddie interjects, wanting to finish the hike and make it back to camp before it gets too late. Everyone falls in line once again, and you can't help curtsying at the mother toad as you walk by. She is royalty, after all.

"'Princess Snugglebutt', huh?" You ask, finding the name quite silly.

"They insisted on naming her that, and it's kinda cute." He chuckles, eyes flicking to you. He brightens a smidge when he sees the flower still in your hair where he left it. He was worried the interruption might have spoiled the moment for you. "Jesus, and I wonder why I didn't get laid more in high school!" He jokes, making both of you laugh heartily.

"Oh, please! You know you're hot, you can have anyone you want." You say without thinking, the realization of your actual words hitting you a second later.

Eddie's eyes widen, and he scoffs in disbelief. "Hot, you say? Good to know." He teases, his cheeks turning pink at you calling him that.

You splutter, trying to come up with a way to cover your tracks. "I just mean- in a general sense. It doesn't take a genius to know you're attractive. Not that I find you-" You're babbling, which is definitely not helping your case.

"Y/N, relax." He cuts in, sweeping a hand against your arm to calm you down. Your breath catches at the contact, and you swallow hard as your throat dries up. "You're hot too, by the way. Ya know, in a general sense." He parrots your words back to you, nice and low into your ear. You're really starting to like it when he does that, perhaps a little too much. It takes everything in you to hold back a desperate little noise at him being so fucking attractive right now. You're not sure what it would be. A whimper? A moan? An equally undignified sound that would no doubt be just as embarrassing? Either way, you choke it back down to save face. "You good?" He asks, noticing you've clammed up at his flirting.

"Yeah, I just need some water." You reply, excusing yourself to catch up with Dustin to retrieve a bottle. You feel your lungs refill with the amount of air required to breathe as you distance yourself from the sexy metalhead.

"Hey, Y/N. Everything good back there?" Dustin asks as you sidle up to him.

"Yeah, just need some water if you don't mind." You unzip the backpack, locating a bottle as you both continue to walk.

"Where'd you get the flower?" This again? You're getting a little tired of the third degree you've been subjected to today.

"I saw a little cluster of them on the trail and thought they were pretty. Purple is my favorite." You say, hoping he buys it. He inspects it curiously, before speaking again.

"Well, it's very nice. It looks like a...Gladiolus. It symbolizes the confession of love to a friend. It's also said to motivate one to pursue their desires." He says matter-of-factly. You wonder if Eddie knows this, though you doubt he's the type to care about flowers and their potential meaning. It would be a nice coincidence, though.

"Since when are you the encyclopedia on flora and fauna?" You tease, opening your water to take a sip.

"It's one of my many interests, Y/N. And my mom likes to garden during the warm months, so a lot of it comes from her." He says with a sunshiny smile.

"That's so sweet! Well, I'm gonna get back to my spot." You turn to leave, giving Dustin a gentle noogie.

"Sure thing, Y/N." He calls as you jog back with your bottle in hand.

"Better?" Eddie asks as you rejoin him at the back of the pack.

"Much." You say with a small smile.

"Mind if I have some, sweetheart? The heat's killin' me."

"Oh, sure!" You hand the bottle over, and he takes a long drink from it. You can't help staring as a small drip of water rolls down the side of his mouth to his chin. You're oddly tempted to lean over and lick it off, biting your lip to hold yourself back. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and he lets out a satisfied sound as the liquid cools him down from the inside out.

"Thanks, princess." Eddie hands back the bottle, only half full now. You don't mind, there's plenty more. You were distracted by watching his lips and throat move in a strangely beautiful way anyways. You take another sip yourself, finding your mouth has lost all moisture once again.

The remainder of the hike is pretty uneventful. Eddie collects a few rocks, and you keep the conversation casual. The others do similar things, pointing out birds and squirrels. The trail takes you in a large circle, eventually leading back to the main road. You plop down at the picnic table with a long sigh once you return to the campsite. "My feet have officially died." You say dramatically, laying your head on the tabletop.

"I second that." Gareth says, opting to flop onto the grass. The others grumble and whine in agreement, falling into chairs and on the ground in defeat.

"Aw, come on. Don't be a buncha babies. We had fun, didn't we?" Eddie asks, sitting next to you. He's been hanging around you a lot today. It's not necessarily weird, but given the little moment with the flowers earlier, his continued presence in your space feels significant.

"Of course, Eds. But we're also exhausted. I don't know why you're not, though. You truly are a freak of nature." You joke, groaning as you reach down to take your shoes off.

He scoffs, pulling out his cigarettes again. "What can I say? Nature feeds my soul. I'd live out here if I could."

"That's odd. I thought you said you didn't have a soul!" Mike retorts, drawing a laugh from everyone else.

"Whatever." Eddie huffs, lighting his cig grumpily. He sets the pack and his lighter on the table, which you snatch up once your bare feet touch the cool grass beneath the bench. "Hey!" He tries to get them back from you, but you don't let him.

"Relax, I'll buy a whole damn carton for you on the way home." You take another smoke for yourself, igniting the end like it's nothing. You put his belongings back on the table, letting him slip them into his pockets.

"I'll make sure to hold you to that." Eddie replies as he takes a long drag. He scoots a little closer down the splintered seat, further invading your personal space. His knee sits against yours, making your skin tingle at the contact. He skims his eyes over your face, smirking at the little purple flower still sitting above your ear. "You really like it?" He asks, pointing to it. You reach up in that direction, fingertips brushing over the soft petals.

"Oh, yeah! Purple's my favorite." You blush as you speak, his continued gaze always throws you off. It makes you talk like a foolish child.

"I know, Y/N. I'd hope you wouldn't think I've known you for three years and not learned anything." He smirks, leaning into you so his shoulder grazes yours. "What kinda man do you take me for?"

You snort, blushing harder at the sound. "I don't think you want the answer to that question, Eds." You look away, exhaling a large cloud of smoke across the table. Lucas just so happens to be sitting there, so it smacks him right in the face.

"Jesus, Y/N! Could you blow your smoke somewhere else, please?" He exclaims, coughing in an exaggerated fashion.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, dude." You apologize, shifting your head to Eddie's direction again. You know he won't mind you blowing smoke in his face. In some strange way, you get the feeling that he likes it. Maybe it's because he gets to see you, sweet little Y/N, being a 'bad girl' for once. You'd like to think so, anyway.

"I dunno, sweetheart. I might just surprise you." Eddie says in a sing-song voice, patting your thigh with his hand before getting up to retrieve something from the van. You almost choke on your drag when he touches you, and he holds back a snicker at your expense.

"God, you two seriously need to get a room." Mike says, loud enough for everyone to hear. Lucas smacks his hand across Mike's chest, gesturing at him to shut the fuck up. "Ouch! What? It's true!" Mike carries on, and the campsite falls silent. You look at Eddie out of instinct, and he instantly meets your gaze. You both quickly avert your eyes, but you know you've already been caught. "That! That right there! You keep looking at each other like lovesick little puppies, and yet neither of you make a move! It's excruciating!" Mike continues to rant and rave, disregarding all the disapproving looks he's getting from the other club members.

Nobody says anything for a moment. The occasional chirping of birds, and rustling of trees in the summer breeze is all you can hear. You force out a laugh, trying to save face. Not just for your sake, but for Eddie's too. "I have no idea what you're talking about, kiddo. I think you've been watching too many movies." Yeah, that'll throw them off the scent, you think to yourself as you roll your eyes at how lame of an excuse that was. "And even if you're right, it's honestly none of your goddamn business." You're getting irritated, not appreciating being put on the spot like this.

"There's no need to get so defensive, Y/N. You guys would be really good together." Lucas chimes in gently, fixing Mike with a glare for being so nosey.

"That's enough, guys. We don't need a bunch of kids meddling in our love lives, alright? And you're making Y/N uncomfortable, so knock it off." Eddie interjects, swooping in to save the day.

"Thanks, Eds." You reply, giving him a kind look. He happily returns it, nodding his head. You stub out your smoke, standing up from the table. You locate your flip-flops in your tent, sliding them on after putting your hiking shoes away. "Who's got the map?" You ask, needing to find the bathroom after all that water on your hike.

"Here. Where are you off to?" Gareth asks as he hands you the paper.

"The bathroom, if you must know. Anyone else need to go?" You glance around your group, met with no response. "Great. I'll be right back, then." You turn on your heels, taking your little trip all alone. The trail is quiet, there aren't a whole lot of other campers here. Your shoes make their little slaps as you walk, twigs and rocks crunching underfoot.

You contemplate the many conversations you've had today. Eddie telling you about his uncle, calling you hot, being otherwise flirty with you. And then Mike calling you out, as if the group thinks it's obvious that you and Eddie like each other. You'd love for him to make a definitive move, everything else has been too up in the air for your liking. Even during the hike, you could have easily imagined him about to kiss you because you want it so badly. You could theoretically take a risk of your own. But there's always the chance of Eddie rejecting you, and you can't live with that. Especially not when you're hours away from home, with no escape if he broke your heart. You sigh loudly, wrongfully assuming no one's around to hear it. "You okay, Y/N?" You hear Eddie's voice from behind you, making you shriek in surprise.

You whip around to face him. Your heart pounds at him startling you, along with your own thoughts plaguing you with churned up feelings. "Jesus christ, Eddie! You scared the shit outta me!" You shout, slapping his chest when he approaches you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to check on you. I felt bad that Mike made a scene like that." He speaks apologetically, putting an arm around your shoulders as you turn back around to keep moving. He would hold your hand, but you're a little busy using the map. He's so close to you now, closer than all the other times today. He smells like tobacco, bug spray, and the cheap cologne he always wears. The scent is intoxicating, dizzying your head as your heart races even more at his touch.

"It's fine, he's a total dumbass." You say with a laugh, drawing a breathy chuckle from Eddie too. Neither of you say anything else, noticing a tense energy building between you. "Eddie?" You say, squeaking out his name while keeping your eyes trained on the map.

"Yes, princess?" He asks, his breath fanning against your neck in your proximity. He really hopes you're going to address what Mike said in some way. To tell him outright that you like him, that you want him.

"After you put the flower in my hair...were you gonna...kiss me?" You speak slowly, hesitating at every crucial part of your question. Your stomach is doing flips, and you really want him to say 'yes'.

"Would you have let me?" You usually hate it when he answers a question with another question. But in this case, it's more than welcome.

"Yes." You reply, practically holding your breath at this point. Eddie stops walking, forcing you to do so as well with his weight on you. He pulls his arm away, and you almost whine at the loss. You face each other, and he gently takes the map from you and folds it back up. He slips it into his back pocket, and brings his hands to your waist. You move closer instinctively, your own hands resting on his shoulders. Is this it? Is this the moment you've been waiting for?

Eddie gazes deep into your eyes, licking his lips to moisten them. "I hope I don't sound cheesy when I say this. But I have very strong feelings for you, Y/N. You're sweet, kind, and absolutely gorgeous. I think about you all the time, I can't get you outta my head." He inches his face a bit closer to yours, allowing you to speak before meeting him in the middle.

"I really like you too, Eds. You're so handsome, funny, and smart. And you saved me. You brought me into your group when I had no one, when I needed it most. You mean so much to me, and I'd be totally lost without you." You press your lips to his without a second thought, and you instantly melt at how soft they are. You've always admired them, how full and plump they look has been so very tempting for you. Eddie pulls you closer so your bodies are pressed together, but his hands stay respectfully at your hips.

He bites your bottom lip, making you gasp. His tongue slips into your mouth to toy around with yours. You're getting really warm, and arousal spreads in your panties. Your heads twist and move languidly as you savor the taste of each other's mouths. You let out a quiet moan, making Eddie's cock twitch in his shorts. The kiss seems to last forever, and you only pull away when you're finding it hard to breathe. "Damn, you're really good at that." Eddie pants, smiling while he rests his forehead against yours.

"So are you, that's gotta be the hottest kiss I've ever had." You reply just as breathlessly. "On another note, I actually do need the bathroom. I wasn't just running away from that awkward conversation."

"Shit, okay. Here." He says, abruptly handing you the map from his pocket again. You loosen from your embrace, finishing the task you originally set out to do. You walk the rest of the way together, and Eddie waits for you outside the little shack. You try to be fast, and hastily wash your hands so you can return to him. "All good?" He asks with a smile.

"Yep! We better get back, before the kids suspect more than they already do." You giggle. "Hey, um, can we...play it cool when we get back to camp?" You ask nervously, you really don't want to put a damper on this before it even gets started.

"Oh, yeah. That's fine." Eddie replies, and his face falls slightly.

"I don't mean it like that, Eddie. I promise. I want to be with you, so much. I just don't want us to be the focus of the entire trip, you know? The others are already nosey enough. Plus...it's kinda thrilling to sneak around...keep it to ourselves for a while." You explain with a sly smile, and he perks right back up when he understands what you're saying.

"I like the sound of that, angel. I gotta warn you though, it's gonna be very difficult to keep my hands to myself." He says seductively, the words flowing into your ear again. His palm slips behind you, grabbing your ass to give you just a taste of what he wants to do to you.

"Oh, I'm counting on it." You say through a quiet moan, earning a chuckle from Eddie. He keeps his hand on you the entire way back to camp, massaging the flesh of your butt to draw little noises from you. He also brings his mouth to your throat every so often, nipping your skin without leaving any marks. At every single sound, he praises you in some way. He tells you how pretty you look, or how sexy you are when you whimper and moan for him. He drops an occasional 'good girl' in the mix, which turns you on more than you thought it would. By the time you meet up with the others again, you're absolutely soaked for him. But his hand leaves your ass before anyone sees, and you have to pretend you're not extremely horny now.

"Took you long enough! We were worried that maybe you two got lost." Gareth says snarkily, but you just ignore him.

"I'll make you get lost if you don't cut it out, Gareth!" Eddie snaps back, sitting at the picnic table to subtly adjust his erection to hide it. Kissing you and groping your ass has riled him up significantly. It's safe to say he can't wait to take things even further.

"Okay, okay. Sorry." Gareth says, wanting more than anything to get Eddie's death glare off of him. He's downright scary when he really puts his mind to it.

"That goes for the rest of you guys, too. I don't wanna hear another word about crushes or hidden feelings, or anything like that. Got it?" Eddie warns, and everyone nods in fearful agreement. They know better than to continually piss him off. "Good. Now, everyone go find a stick for roasting the hot dogs." He orders, which sends all of you on a mission while he goes to the supply shop for some firewood and more ice for the coolers.

When Eddie returns, you present him with the sticks you all gathered. You yourself found one for him along with your own, you figure he'd appreciate that. He does, and pulls out his pocketknife for you to carve off the ends so they're clean. You set to work, scraping the layers of dirt and mossy bark away with the sharp blade. Each stick is set on the picnic table once you're finished.

You look at Eddie as he's crouched over the fire pit, adoring the way the muscles in his back flex beneath his shirt, and the waistband of his boxers poking out from his shorts. He's so attractive without even trying, it's something you've always loved about him. His charm is so effortless, carefree even. He can lure you in with a single word, a passing glance. But to have him truly focus his romantic attention on you now, it's like you've tasted blood and you want more. He starts the fire in a couple minutes flat, he's clearly an expert in that area. You walk over to him when he stands up, a pleased expression on his face. You get real close when nobody's watching, angling strategically to speak in his ear. "Nice work, Eds. It's good to know you have such nimble fingers. I can't wait to see how well you can use them on me."

He stiffens at your words, in more ways than one. He's so glad that you're proving to be his perfect match, playing little games with him under everybody's noses. He turns his head slightly to find a lustful grin spread across your mouth, and it takes everything in him to refrain from kissing you. "Play your cards right, and I'll use them anywhere you like, sweetheart." He winks, mirroring your filthy smirk.

"I'll make sure to hold you to that." You reply, mimicking his words from earlier. You reach down and squeeze his ass, walking away a second later. Eddie holds back a groan, watching you slink haunches-up into your tent until it's time for dinner. You lay back on your sleeping bag, releasing a satisfied sigh. You want so badly to squeal in excitement, all this tantalization is just too much fun. Meanwhile, Eddie stands in shock at your antics for a moment. He can't stop thinking about all the ways he's going to claim you as his, and it's becoming very difficult to stop himself from getting noticeably hard.

When the sun begins to set on the first day of your trip, everyone takes their places around the campfire. The song of crickets and frogs starts to fill the air. The nocturnal creatures are slowly claiming their territory, and your group are but humble guests in their presence. You're loading up the sticks you cleaned earlier with cold weenies, passing them out to each member of your club, saving yours and Eddie's for last. The others take turns in groups of three to roast the hotdogs. "Shit." Alex exclaims as his weiner falls into the ashes beside the fire. It's like an unspoken rule that at least one person accidentally sacrifices their hotdog to the campfire gods.

"Nice job, buddy!" Gareth says with a smirk while he claps Alex's shoulder. Alex scowls at him, muttering swears under his breath. You happily supply him with a new frankfurter, spearing it firmly on the stick so it won't fall off this time.

"I'll try not to drop this one." Alex says bashfully as a harsh blush colors his cheeks. He positions the stick above the orange flames, watching closely in hopes to save this sausage if it attempts an escape.

"It's fine, dude. We've got plenty more." You say kindly, tapping the cooler containing packs on packs of the processed meat product. Eddie's sat beside you at the picnic table once again, smoking as he waits for his turn at the fire. He'd offered you one too, but you've had enough nicotine for the time being. What you really want is some food, and more kisses from Eddie for dessert.

The daylight continually fades away, going from a warm mix of oranges and pinks, to a deep navy blue that's just a shade or two away from pitch black. "We're up, princess." Eddie nudges your shoulder, the fire casting dramatic highlights and shadows on his handsome face. You nod, following him over to the pit with your skewers. You hand him his, and he purposely touches as much of your hand as possible before taking the stick from your grasp. You gaze at him a little too long, snapping your eyes away before anyone notices.

You focus your attention on the fire, and your weenie roasting above it. The flames flick and lap at the bottom of the sausage playfully, cooking it just the way you like. The heat from the fire is so inviting, the crackling of the wood is such a comforting sound. However, there's a different fire roaring inside you. One that longs to know what might happen between you and Eddie once the others are asleep. You'll take anything at this point, he could make out with your elbow for all you care. You suppress a needy sigh, you just have to be patient.

"You alright, Y/N? You look like you're constipated." Jeff asks, inspecting your face curiously.

"I'm fine, jerkoff. I'm just hungry, I didn't eat enough today." You lie, fixing a smile across your lips to get him off your back.

"You sure you're not on the rag, too?" He retorts with a laugh, drawing snickers from Alex and Gareth as well.

"I think, for your sake, we ought to pretend you didn't just say that." You say in a warning tone, narrowing your eyes. Everyone's really getting at you today, not-so-slyly attempting to draw the truth out of you. Playful teasing is one thing, but it's becoming rather ridiculous now.

"I second that. I'd hate for my stick to accidentally end up in your eye, Jeff." Eddie chimes in, coming to your aid once again. He realizes this won't quell anyone's suspicions, but somebody should be on your side here.

"Okay, okay. Jeez, touchy much?" Jeff scoffs, rolling his eyes. You and Eddie finish roasting your hotdogs, bringing them over to the table to put into buns and slather with ketchup and mustard. You open the drink cooler, pulling out two beers from the slightly melted ice. You hand one off to Eddie, and he gives you an odd look.

"Go easy with that, sweetheart. I'd hate for you to be too drunk to have fun with me later." He says in that silky smooth voice only you get to hear.

"I have had a beer before, Eddie." You playfully roll your eyes at him, locating the bottle/can opener from the bag of utensils. You flick off the top with ease, reaching over to open his too. He watches you like a hawk all the while, his mind going to all the wrong places as you flip the little metal cap off his bottle with a small pop.

"What? When?" He asks, completely surprised at you. He can't even count the amount of times he's offered you one at your D&D sessions or casual hangouts. You've always said no, giving the excuse that your parents check your breath whenever you go home.

"At home...alone, and at a couple parties. I know, it's kinda lame. To be honest, I thought I'd make a fool of myself if I drank around you. But now I don't have to worry about that." You set the opener on the table, taking your previous spot again. He joins you, eyes widening slightly when you take a swig of your beer. You chuckle at his shocked expression, it's so damn cute. "It's not like I've grown a third eye or something. Relax, I'm far from a lightweight. It's one beer, I'll be fine." You pat his thigh to reassure him, shifting your gaze to watch the others munching down their food and poking one another with their sticks.

"Sorry, you're just- like...a whole new person today." He says, fumbling over his words.

"Is that a bad thing?" You ask, looking at him again. Your tone isn't accusatory, more like you're playing another little game.

"Not at all, princess. In fact, I'm really digging this new version of you." He replies, his voice even darker than before. You're just so full of surprises to him, and he wants nothing more than to take you right now on the table. Or in the grass, or in his van.

"Me too. I'm really enjoying seeing this side of you, I've always wanted to." You lean over real close, checking to make sure nobody is looking. Everyone else is too busy rough-housing to pay attention to you, so you take your chance. You bring your face centimeters away from Eddie's, staring deep into his eyes. "And I gotta say, I can't wait to get you alone to see even more." You grin, sneakily palming his dick over his shorts.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're playing with fire here. Anyone could see what a dirty girl you're being if they looked our way." His words come out strained into a whisper, holding back a moan. He's absolutely loving this, he just hopes nobody sees.

"Oh, but that just adds to the fun, Eds." You squeeze him just a little bit harder, watching the pleasure display plainly on his face. He gasps slightly, his mouth sitting open as he breathes heavily. His eyes bore into yours, dilated with lust. "Let's eat, I'd hate for the food to get cold." You let go of his cock, pulling your face away as well to pick up your hotdog. The fact that nobody caught you gives you a massive thrill. You're extremely wet again, and Eddie didn't even touch you this time. You basically made all the moves, and you'll be damned if it doesn't make you feel powerful. You take a large bite of food, realizing you're very hungry all of a sudden.

"You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart." Eddie says once his brain fully processes what just happened. He grabs hold of his beer, downing almost all of it in one go.

You and Eddie play it cool for the next few hours, focusing on being a part of the campfire conversation instead of isolating yourselves. You didn't plan this trip to confess your feelings and cling to one another, you really want to spend some quality time with your friends. You make tons of s'mores, and Eddie tells spooky stories to scare everyone shitless. You watch with adoring eyes as he weaves gory tales of killers with hooks for hands and families of cannibals. You have to admit the stories aren't exactly original, but the way he builds anticipation and genuinely startles everyone makes them sound entirely brand new. He breaks the fearful tension with some more lighthearted fables, and by the end of the third one, everyone else's eyes are drooping significantly as they fight against sleep.

One by one, your fellow club members take their leave to climb into their tents for the night. Alex and Jeff are first to go, saying goodnight to everyone as they fail to stifle loud yawns. Next goes Mike, Lucas, Gareth, and Dustin after taking a group trip to the bathroom. Erica holds out longer than you thought she would, but she ultimately falls asleep in her chair. Eddie tries to wake her up, but she's stubborn when it comes to sleep. So, he carefully lifts her out of the chair and puts her on top of her sleeping bag in the tent. He takes off her shoes so they don't hurt her feet all night, before rejoining you on the bench. "Well, looks like it's just us now, baby." Eddie says quietly, stroking your arm in a suggestive way.

"Took them long enough, I thought we'd have to wait all damn night." You reply, sharing a light laugh. The fire has winnowed down significantly, just barely illuminating you two in the dark. The croaks and chirps of the forest critters have only gotten louder, serenading you with their native song. The moon shines bright above the trees, peeking through the canopy of branches far above your heads. Twinkling stars can be made out too, if you squint hard enough. It's a beautiful night, which sets the stage for anything romantic that might happen between you and your kinda-sorta boyfriend.

"Yeah, Erica definitely had me worried there. She also likes to kick in her sleep, so watch out for that later." Eddie winces as he rubs the part of his ribs where he got a good hit from Erica once he laid her down.

"Oh, you poor thing. Should I kiss it better?" You say teasingly.

"Yes, please!" He says, a little too excited to taste your pretty lips again.

"Well...since you said the magic word." You giggle, leaning in to press your mouth onto his. He tastes like chocolate and marshmallow, with a little hint of beer. It's delicious, and you can't help scrambling to straddle his lap. You shove your tongue in his mouth, moaning at his erection rising beneath you. Eddie's hands grab the swells of your ass, leading you to grind against his dick. You moan again, a little too loud.

"Shh, baby. You gotta be quiet if you don't wanna get caught." Eddie says lowly after breaking your kiss. You nod silently, letting him bring his lips to your neck. He starts with little pecks, soft and gentle. You continue to grind on him, making a small wet spot on Eddie's shorts as your arousal soaks through your clothes. You try to keep your volume down, and luckily the sounds of the woods help muffle your whimpers and whines.

"I want you, Eddie. I'm so wet for you." You say directly into his ear, and he groans against your flesh. He tests your limits, biting down on your throat to see your reaction. "Fuck." The sting of his teeth on you feels so fucking good, you really want him to do it again. But then you realize it might leave marks, and you don't want anyone finding you out just yet. "That felt so good, baby. But the others might suspect something if I'm covered in hickeys tomorrow."

"Sorry, princess. I'll save that for after we go public." He licks a long stripe up the length of your neck, before capturing your lips once again. Your hands are tangled in his hair, you'd pulled his ponytail out shortly after climbing on top of him. You gently tug on his curly locks, drawing more lustful noises from him. Eddie's dick is unbearably hard, and the feeling of you grinding against it is driving him insane. You decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, breaking away from his mouth to kiss his neck instead. "Y/N." He groans when you find his sweet spot almost immediately.

His grip on your ass tightens, leading you to roll your hips even faster. "Eddie, you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing that." You whimper between kisses on his skin.

"That's kinda the point, sweetheart." He chuckles darkly. You're practically putty in his hands, whining and moaning his name as quietly as you can. He's got you right on the edge, and he wants more than anything to see you come undone. "You gonna be a good girl for me? Gonna make a mess in those cute little shorts you have on?" Eddie eggs you on, his words pushing you closer and closer.

"Uh-huh. I'm so close, Eds." You say breathily, reaching down to bring his hands away from your ass and up to your chest instead. He immediately squeezes your tits over your shirt, and you grip his shoulders to maintain your rhythm. He slips under your tank top and bra to feel you completely, making you gasp when his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples. "Fuck, I'm gonna-" You're cut off by your words catching in your throat, and you clap your hand over your mouth to muffle to obscenely loud sound that threatens to wake everybody up. Your thighs shake as your orgasm washes over you, every inch of you tingling with pleasure. You shove your head into Eddie's shoulder as you ride it out, and his hands go to your sides to stroke you gently.

"You did so well, princess. You're so fuckin' sexy." You blush at his praise, lifting your head to crush his lips with yours. You stay like this for what feels like hours, just kissing and basking in your afterglow. You definitely want more, especially since Eddie hasn't had a turn yet. He doesn't mind taking his time though, it's reward enough for him to make you feel good. You're so caught up in the moment, and just about to strip each other's shirts off, when a flashlight shines into your faces from your right. You freeze, lips and wandering hands stilling in place as you look to see who's caught you.

"Well, what a surprise." Erica says sarcastically. You see she's alone in her discovery, and you immediately separate from one another. You're not sure what to say, but Erica saves your breath. She looks at you with a sly grin, crossing her arms with attitude. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about this. I'd sooner bleach my eyeballs before reliving this moment."

"Thank you, E-" Eddie begins to speak, but she cuts him off.

"I wasn't finished, freak. My silence comes at a price." You and Eddie roll your eyes, there's always a catch when one needs a favor from Erica goddamn Sinclair.

"What do you want?" You ask, already regretting it. It's like striking a deal with the devil in a way, though you imagine even Satan himself fears Erica's wrath.

"I want to be the DM for our next three campaigns." She says simply, and you have no objection. Eddie, on the other hand, is a different story.

"No way, kid! I'm not gonna play your kiddie My Little Pony shit." Eddie says, he's not one to relinquish control so easily. And certainly not when it comes to D&D.

"Fine! I'll just wake everybody up and tell them I found you two macking on each other like a couple of perverts!" She retorts, dramatically gearing up to shout for the others.

"Wait!" You whisper-yell to her, wanting a chance to convince Eddie to go through with her request. You turn to him, taking his hands in yours as you begin to plead. "Eddie, come on! You know she won't make the campaigns lame and kiddish. You've seen her play, she's a borderline sociopath!"

"I choose to take that as a compliment." Erica interjects, before you continue.

"It's just three games, that's not so bad. Please, Eddie? Save us both the embarrassment? I promise we can tell everyone on the way back or something. And I'll make it two cartons of smokes instead of one." You give your best show of puppy eyes as you speak, watching his expression change gradually while you do so. He has to admit, you sure know how to convince him to do anything you want. And the begging is most definitely a turn-on.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh, and you know that you've gotten your way. "Alright! Fine! But no kiddie shit! If you wanna DM, you gotta be ruthless, 'kay?"

"Have you met me? I bet I could be even more sadistic than you. Now, where's the map? I didn't get a chance to pee before bed."

"You sure you're okay to go on your own?" You ask, worried about such a young child wandering down the pitch dark trail all alone.

"Please, I'll be fine. I can't imagine it's all that difficult to find." She insists, extending her hand for you to hand her the map.

"Okay, we'll wait up for you to come back though, alright?" You offer as you give her the bundle of paper.

"Okay. Thanks, Y/N." She says with a smile, before heading on her merry way.

"Well, that was a close one. I guess we'll have to be more careful." You say with an awkward chuckle.

"Yeah, guess so." Eddie replies, looking at the ground. He seems upset, and it makes your stomach flip. You really hope you haven't ruined this.

"What's wrong, Eds?" You ask, but you have a feeling you already know what he's gonna say.

"Nothing, I..." He sighs, contemplating how to put this without causing an argument. "I just feel like you're putting so much effort into hiding us. Like you're embarrassed to be seen with me or something." The hurt in his voice makes your heart ache, that wasn't your intention one bit.

"Eddie, I swear that I'm not. I would never be ashamed of being with you, especially not when it comes to the freaks we call our friends." You reassure him, even making him laugh lightly. "I just know that we'll never hear the end of it, when we're supposed to be having fun as a group this weekend. They've already been getting at us constantly, and they don't actually know we're together yet! I really like you, Eddie. Fuck it, I love you. It's just a little longer, and we'll have to be more discreet if we wanna fool around. But if it really bothers you, we can tell everyone first thing in the morning."

"You...love me?" Eddie asks, his eyes wide in utter shock. You curse yourself for blurting the words out, fearing that you've scared him away now.

"Um...yeah. You don't have to say it ba-"

"I love you too, princess." He cuts you off again, smiling bright like the sun. "And I suppose you're right, the kids will be making jokes and obnoxious noises at us all weekend. We can wait to tell them, otherwise we'll be going home with a van full of dead children." He jokes, giving you a gentle kiss afterwards.

"Thank you, Eddie. You're the best, you know that?" You say sweetly, rubbing your nose against his. He smirks at your affections, you're just too damn adorable.

"Oh, I know, baby. Why else would you be so helplessly in love with me?" He replies with a dramatic swoon, the back of his hand going to his forehead as he teases you.

"Don't make me regret telling you that, Munson." You warn, though the quiver of your frowning lips gives you away.

"Hey now, I said it back, didn't I? Plus, how could I possibly resist you, sweetheart? You've gotta be the most amazing woman I've ever known." He pulls you back onto his lap, sitting sideways this time.

"Do you even know any other women?" You joke, and he just scoffs at you.

"Ouch! Since when are you so feisty?" He finishes the sentence with gritted teeth, raising his hands to tickle you. You gasp as his fingers wiggle erratically across your stomach and sides.

"Eddie, quit it! You're gonna make me scream!" You whisper-yell as you fight back every urge to squeal and laugh loud enough for the others to hear you.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby!" He replies with a low chuckle, refusing to let up.

"Eddie, please! I was just kidding! I'm sorry!" You plead, attempting to flail away from him. But it's no use, he's got you trapped firmly in his grip.

"Then tell me I'm the sexiest man alive, angel." He taunts, speaking seductively in your ear to give you a way out.

"You're the sexiest man alive, Eddie! Now let me go!" You don't mind stroking his ego, you find the statement to be very true in your eyes.

"Good girl." He grins, ceasing his tickling and planting a gentle kiss on your neck.

"God, I love it when you call me that." You let out a satisfied sigh, laying your head on Eddie's shoulder. You realize Erica has been gone for a while, raising your head again to peek down the trail. You don't see any trace of her flashlight, and you're getting worried that she's lost.

"What are we looking at, Y/N?" Eddie asks, leaning forward to join you in staring at the darkness.

"Erica's been gone too long. We should go look for her." You say in a serious tone, getting out of his embrace. Eddie stands with you, retrieving two flashlights from the table. "Do you remember if she took her walkie or not?" You ask, unable to recall anything outside of her catching you together.

"No, we can always try it anyways." He replies, taking one from the table. He flicks it on, extending the antenna. He presses the button to speak. "Erica, do you copy?" He releases the button for a moment, only hearing static as he waits for a reply. "Erica, do you copy?" He sounds a little more panicked this time, giving a longer pause. "Shit. I don't think she took it with her. We'll just have to find her the old-fashioned way." He puts the walkie in his pocket, in case anyone wakes up and wonders where you went off to. You flick on your lights, the bright white hitting harshly against the beaten path. He takes hold of your hand, giving a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, we'll find her." He says calmly, though his face reads equally as worried as your own.

"Okay." You nod, and you set off on your journey to find the missing Sinclair sibling. You find the bathroom shack easily, it's not difficult to locate once you've gone down the trail before. "I'll see if she's in here." You say, letting go of his hand. He nods his head at you, and you go to the entrance of the women's room. You push the door open, calling out to Erica. "Erica? Are you in here?" You ask, hoping you get a reply. She's so young, it must be terrifying to be out here in the dark all alone. Sure, she gives the impression of being tough as nails, but even the bravest of men can easily become scared in the deep dark woods.

"Yeah, I'm in here. I'm not feeling so good, though." Erica groans, and you hear the sounds of her vomiting into a toilet in one of the stalls.

"Oh, Erica. I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?" You ask, though you can't imagine you can do much for her.

"Ugh, no. I think I had too many s'mores." She whimpers before puking again. Your own stomach turns slightly at the sounds, you've always been squeamish around sick people.

"Okay, well, take your time. I'm just gonna let Eddie know and we'll see what we can do." You leave the bathroom, finding Eddie looking all around the woods to find Erica. "She's in there, but she's very sick. She ate too many s'mores."

"Shit. Well, I'm glad we found her at least. Not sure what we're gonna do about her being so sick. If it's actually the flu, it could get bad fast with her out in this heat." He says, the gears in his brain working as he tries to figure out what to do. "We probably have to take her and Lucas to the Ranger building. They should have a phone there for Lucas to call their parents to pick them up."

"Yeah, that's probably best. I hate for them to miss out on the rest of the trip, but it's the right thing to do. Let's wait for her to be empty, and then we'll get her and Lucas packed up." A little while later, Erica walks out of the shack. Her face is pale, and she's covered in sweat. "Hey, Erica. So, we've decided it would be best for you and Lucas to go home. If this is the flu or something, it's not safe for you out here. I'm really sorry, kiddo." You speak as apologetically as you can, and she just nods.

"Okay. I was gonna ask to go home anyways. I know a tummy ache when I see one, and this isn't it." She speaks weakly, which freaks you out as she's usually pretty spunky. She looks so miserable, you wish you could magically make her all better. You and Eddie lead her back to camp, giving her some water while you gather her things. Luckily for you, all you need to do is roll up her sleeping bag and zip up her backpack.

Eddie opens the tent where Lucas is sleeping, gently shaking him awake. "Hey, Lucas. Get up, buddy." He whispers so as not to wake Mike and Dustin.

"W-What's going on?" Lucas asks as he rubs his eyes.

"Erica's sick, so we have to take you guys to the Ranger station and have you call your parents. I'm really sorry, man."

"Oh, man. That sucks. But I understand, just let me get my stuff." Lucas replies, forcing himself awake.

"Take it slow, kiddo." You warn Erica as she sips down her water. Eddie loads up hers and Lucas' belongings in the meantime, and then you all get into the van to drive to the large building at the entrance of the campground. You and Eddie walk the kids inside, finding the same burly man from the kiosk sitting at the night desk. Eddie explains the situation, and the ranger allows Lucas to use the phone. He also lets Erica get comfortable on the couch in the rec area, setting a trash can beside her in case she throws up again. The Sinclairs insist you should return to camp and get some rest since their parents are already on the way. But you refuse to leave them alone, sitting beside each other on some not-so-comfortable chairs.

About two hours into waiting, Erica is sleeping soundly again. Lucas is repeatedly dozing off, but startling himself awake when his head begins to fall forwards. You yourself are finding it hard to stay awake, so you curl up as comfortably as you can in your seat, leaning your head on Eddie's shoulder. You don't even care if Lucas sees, you just want to be close to the man you love. "You tired, princess? You can sleep in the van if you want." Eddie offers, though he thinks your sleepy display is rather cute.

"No, I'm gonna stay here with you. Gotta make sure the kids are safe." You say lazily, already halfway to dreamland.

"Okay, baby. Sleep well." He presses a light kiss to the top of your head, once he sees that Lucas has fully passed out now.

By the time Lucas and Erica's parents show up, the sun is starting to rise. It shines through the windows of the Ranger building, going directly into your eyes. "Mmm." You groan as you readjust to block out the light. Until now, you’ve slept surprisingly well with Eddie as your pillow.

"Sweetheart, wake up. The kids are getting ready to leave." Eddie nudges you, speaking softly. You try to cling even harder to him, which makes Lucas raise an eyebrow in your direction. "C'mon, darling. We gotta get up and get back to camp." He shakes your shoulder, and you open your eyes.

"Ugh, fine." You whine, slowly standing up from your chair.

"So....are you two...ya know?" Lucas gestures awkwardly at you and Eddie, putting the pieces together.

"Yes, Lucas. But keep your mouth shut! We plan to tell everyone after the trip." You say with a sleepy scowl, and he nods in agreement. You lead him and Erica outside, helping them into their parents' car.

"Thanks for staying here with them all night, I'm sorry they can't stay for the rest of the weekend." Mrs. Sinclair says through her rolled-down window.

"It's no trouble at all, ma'am. I hope Erica feels better soon." Eddie says kindly, taking hold of your hand. You smile at the contact, and the two of you wave goodbye as the Sinclairs pull out of the parking lot and drive out of the campground.

You sigh in relief, glad that Erica will get the love and care she needs at home. "Did you sleep at all, Eds?" You ask, noticing slight bags under his eyes.

"A little, somebody kept snoring though." He teases, giving you a nudge.

"I did not!" You exclaim, insisting you do no such thing.

"I know! I was talking about Lucas!" He says, and you smack his chest playfully.

"You ass!" You laugh. "C'mon, let's go back before the others wake up." You get back in the van, driving down the trail to Lot 106. But as you pull into the parking space, you realize everyone is already out of bed, sitting around with concerned expressions on their faces.

"Where the fuck were you guys all night? And where are Erica and Lucas?" Jeff asks as you hop out into the humid morning air.

"Erica got sick last night, so we took her and Lucas to the Ranger station. We called their parents, and waited all night for them to be picked up. We're sorry we didn't tell you, but it was the middle of the night and we didn't want to disturb you. We did bring a walkie though in case you guys wondered where we were, though." The others slowly relax as you explain the situation, their hardened expressions loosening with every word.

"Is Erica gonna be okay?" Dustin asks, worried about his unlikely friend.

"Yes, it's probably just a stomach bug. Now, who's hungry?" You reply, watching as everyone's hand raises into the air. You chuckle quietly, going to the table to make PB&J sandwiches for breakfast. Eddie assists you, and you hand them out to everyone along with some orange slices from the cooler. "So, what's on the agenda for today, Eds?" You ask loud enough for the others to hear.

"Well, I was thinking we could have a beach day, and hang out at the lake. It's supposed to have crystal clear waters, and it's covered in colorful rocks on the bottom." Eddie says, munching on an orange slice afterwards.

"Sounds great! I love reading a good book on the beach." You speak cheerily as you finish your food.

"Reading? You're not gonna swim?" Eddie asks, barely hiding his disappointment.

"I didn't say that, I just really like sunbathing, that's all." You giggle, you imagine Eddie wants so badly to see you in your bathing suit. You did force your mom to give you a ride to the mall to find something cute...and sexy, in hopes of enticing him. You're excited for him to see it, but you're gonna wait for your perfect moment to reveal it to him.

"Sounds like somebody just wants to see Y/N in her swimsuit." Gareth jokes, and Eddie's cheeks turn bright red.

"Shut up, dickweed! I never said that!" Eddie shouts, which doesn't help dissuade anyone's assumptions.

"I don't know, it sounds like thou doth protest too much, Eddie." Alex joins in, drawing laughs from everyone but you.

"You guys are perverted. He's just making conversation." You say plainly, hoping your friends will shut the hell up.

"If you say so..." Mike replies in a sing-song voice.

"Alright! I'm done, and I need a goddamn shower after staying in these clothes all night. You wanna come with, Y/N?" Eddie stands, tossing his empty paper plate into the trash bag you have sitting on the table.

"Sure. I guess I'm in the same boat, grunge-wise." You leave your seat on the bench, going to your tent to pull out your toiletry bag and towel.

"And now you're gonna shower together? Interesting." Dustin chimes in, and you just roll your eyes as they all laugh at your expense again.

"We're obviously showering separately, you assholes! I thought we agreed to stop the teasing!" You shout, glaring at everyone individually. But you strike no fear into them, they only laugh harder. "Whatever, I'm over this shit." You're genuinely getting angry, you just wish they'd knock it off. It wasn't so bad at first, but now it's getting out of hand. You storm off, heading down the trail as a couple tears fall from your eyes.

"Dammit, guys!" Eddie groans, shaking his head and snatching up his own things before turning to follow you. He jogs to catch up, and he notices you crying. "Are you okay, Y/N?" He asks, reaching for your hand.

"Do you see why I didn't want to tell them now? I know it shouldn't bother me so much, but they're really getting on my nerves." You say through a sniffle. You feel silly crying over this, but it isn't often that you're the constant target of jokes and comments.

"I'm sorry, princess. I don't know what to do about them, they're being real jerks today." He's not sure how to handle this, the fuckers just won't let up. He supposes it's because they highly suspect you're into each other. But regardless of that, they should know when to quit.

"I don't either. The more we say, the worse it gets. I'm just gonna ignore them, I'm tired of going back and forth all day." You decide the only way to get them to quit is if you freeze them out, to act like they don't exist.

"That's probably a good idea. Maybe if they see how upset they've made you, they'll finally knock it off and apologize. But in the meantime...you wanna shower with me?" He suggests, wanting to help you feel better.

"I dunno, Eds. What if they try to spy on us?" You ask, looking behind you to see if you're being followed. You don't see anyone, so maybe you're being paranoid.

"You don't have to if you're not comfortable, angel. I just want to make you feel good. But it's up to you." He speaks lowly, tempting you with the promise of getting you off.

"Shit, you're impossible to resist, you know that?" You say cheekily as you finally reach the shower shack. "How about you turn on one of the showers in the men's room, just in case they come to see if you're in there. They wouldn't dare go in the women's." You suggest, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"I like the way you think, baby. I'll be right back." He leaves you for a moment, and you feel your heart racing as the anticipation builds. He comes back out a moment later, and you lead him into the women's room. You check to make sure no one else is in here, and the coast is clear. You pick the shower stall farthest from the entrance, secluded in the corner. You both put your stuff down on the little shelf so it stays dry. Eddie immediately pins you against the wall, smashing his mouth on yours. You moan against his lips, letting him slip his tongue in. You put your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. His mouth moves on to your neck, meeting your sweet spot shortly after.

"Eddie." You whimper, wanting him to go further.

"How far have you gone before, baby?" Eddie asks against your skin, curious to know if you have much experience.

"You really think I'm that innocent, Eds?" You reply, reaching down to grip his erection. He groans in your grasp, resisting the urge to bite you again.

"I guess you're right. You've been surprising me again and again the last couple days. But have you...gone all the way, Y/N?" You can't help giggling at his phrasing, it sounds a bit childish.

"You really wanna know?" You tease, palming him harder and rougher than before. You look deep into his eyes, eating up the little moans he's emitting just for you. He just nods, unable to form words. "Yes, I have."

"Who with?" He pushes the question out.

"Is this really that important to you? Trying to see who you're competing with?" You chuckle, unable to help rolling your eyes.

"Maybe a little. You just always blush like crazy at my dirty jokes, so I assumed..."

"That I'm a virgin?" You finish the sentence for him. He affirms your statement, and you just shake your head. "Did it ever occur to you that I blushed like that because it was you telling the jokes? Ya know, because I'm head over heels for you?"

"Well, it does now." He says with a bashful laugh. "But you didn't answer my question." He finds his cool once more, lowering his own hand to undo the button of your shorts. He slides your zipper down its track, and slips his hand inside your panties. His fingers brush against your slick folds, making you moan loudly. "God, you're absolutely soaked, sweetheart." He's just about to push two digits into your pussy, when he stills his movements entirely. "Tell me who, Y/N." He says darkly, giving your clit half-flicks to drive you wild.

"There's been a couple." You say, hoping that's enough for him. But you can already see that it isn't.

"I'm not gonna judge you, princess. I just wanna know." He politely insists. You can see where he's going, he'll reward you if you do as he asks.

"Alright, since you asked nicely. My first...was Steve Harrington." You admit, as embarrassing as it is.

"King Steve, huh? And when was this?" Eddie puts his fingers inside you finally, curving them slowly to press on your g spot.

"Fuck. It was a little while after he broke up with Nancy Wheeler. We were drunk at a party." It's insane how easily he's able to draw the words out of you. But looking into his lust-filled eyes makes it impossible not to obey him.

"How was it, angel?" He continues.

"Well, it was pretty clumsy since we were wasted. And let's just say he didn't last very long." You say with a giggle, recalling how you barely got anywhere without Steve blowing his load.

"He didn't make you cum?" He laughs, this little game is very amusing for him. The confessions he's pulling from you, along with your hands working his belt open are turning him on immensely. You open up his own shorts, reaching inside his boxers to jerk him off in your hand. "Shit, Y/N."

"Not. Even. Close. No fingers, no tongue, just a few pumps of his cock and that was all she wrote. I pity Nancy, if anything." You reply, gasping as Eddie's pace increases. You stroke his dick a little faster in response.

"Well, sounds like I've already got one up on Harrington after last night." Your breath fans in each other's faces, hearts beating rapidly as you get each other off with your hands.

"You certainly do, and you'll have another one if you go faster." You whimper, feeling a knot balling up inside you, just waiting to release.

"Anything for you, baby." He pounds his fingers into your cunt, wet noises filling the room along with your moans. You hold onto his shoulder to keep yourself from falling over. And you jerk him off even faster, wanting him to lose it with you. "Who else? Please tell me." He almost begs, finding himself nearing the edge.

"Jason Carver, a little bit before he got with Chrissy. Another drunken mistake." You answer, and his eyes tell you he wants more details. It's so strange, you didn't think Eddie would ever want to hear about the guys that came before him. But you assume he wants to be better than them, and it won't take much if you're being honest. "He was very similar to Steve, only more aggressive. He didn't even kiss me."

"That's terrible, sweetheart. Sounds like you have a habit of collecting the popular boys, though." Eddie can't help feeling a little jealous, even though these other young men didn't perform very well. He brings his lips to your neck again, wanting to bring you down with him as his high quickly approaches.

"It's called having low self-esteem, Eds. The popular kid gives you the time of day, and it makes you feel special. I've learned that it's far from worth it, though." You reply through a whimper. "You're so much better than they are, and it's not just because you actually know what you're doing." You speak against his ear, fueling his fire.

"Was there anyone else?" He asks as his stomach tenses.

"A couple, I don't remember their names. Those were a little better, they tried at least. But I still didn't cum." You say breathily, your walls fluttering around Eddie's fingers. "I'm about to right now, though. Fuck- Eddie!" You cry out, your legs trembling as you cum hard around his hand. Your mouth falls open and your eyebrows scrunch as you moan so loud.

"Y/N." Eddie groans, staring at your fuck-struck face as his load spills onto your hollowed fist. He falls forward against you slightly, clumsily kissing you as your orgasms run their course. Your hands go still in each other's shorts, before you pull away entirely. Eddie leans against the wall beside you, bringing his sticky fingers up to his lips to taste you. He moans at the taste, so musky and sweet. "You're so delicious, sweetheart." He says as his chest heaves to pull air into his lungs.

You decide to taste him too, it's so hot to see him swallow your cum like that. You lick the sticky white fluid off of your hand, keeping your eyes glued to his the whole time. He's the perfect balance between sweet and salty, the flavor makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. "So are you, Eds." You reply once you clean up every last drop.

"Do you want more, angel? Or are you tapped out for the time being?" Eddie asks sweetly, noting the tired expression on your face. He strokes your arm lightly, gazing at you for an answer.

"I think I might be, it was very...intense." You say with a smile, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss. "But we've got all day, and I'm guessing the others are counting down the minutes until we get back."

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll let you get cleaned up, and I'll meet you right outside." He zips up his jeans, sliding the belt back into place. He checks to make sure he's safe to leave and take his own shower, and there's no one to be found. He slips out the door, it slams lightly on its hinges once he's gone.

You slowly strip off your clothes, still reeling from Eddie fingering you while asking you about who you've slept with. You wouldn't have expected something like that to be so sexy, but doing it with him blew your mind to smithereens. You set the clothes on the shelf, twisting the shower knob to start the water. The temperature is nice and warm, and you sigh in satisfaction as the water soaks your hair and skin. You wash away all the sweat and cum from the last twelve hours, becoming fresh and new again.

You're not sure how long you've been in here, probably too long to not raise further questions from the others. You mentally curse your inability to resist Eddie's charms, rushing to rinse off your soap and shampoo so you can hurry back. You shut the water off, drying your body with your towel. You change into your swimsuit, a matching bandeau top and bikini brief set in a gorgeous deep purple. You've never shown so much skin before, especially not to Eddie and your friends. You put on an almost-sheer black cover-up on top of it, you don't want to give away the surprise just yet. The thin fabric barely reaches your thighs, and you close up the button to hide your body away.

You slip your flip-flops back on, gathering your belongings to rejoin Eddie who's waiting outside for you. He's having another smoke, flicking the ash into the grass. He catches your eye, looking you up and down. "Damn, sweetheart. You look like you're ready for the beach." He says with a smirk, offering you a cigarette. His hair is tied up again, dripping water onto the back of his shirt. You notice he's changed into his trunks, which are a simple solid black that go halfway down his thighs. The drawstrings are tied into a neat bow, holding them securely on his hips.

"I most certainly am." You gladly accept his offer, letting him light the cig for you.

"I can't wait to see what you've got on under there." He says, attempting to peek down the front of your cover-up. You hold the fabric tight to your chest, pushing a hand against his face.

"You'll see soon enough, don't ruin the surprise!" You exclaim, giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Ooh, did you wear it just for me, angel?" He asks as he backs off. He looks at you, watching your cheeks heat up and your eyes dart away.

"I may have bought it to try and seduce you." You say sheepishly, taking a long drag of your cigarette. It's kind of embarrassing when you say it out loud.

"Well, I may not know what it looks like just yet, but I can guarantee it would've worked." He whispers as you approach your campsite once again. "Is everyone ready for the beach?" Eddie addresses the others, once again pretending like nothing happened. It's strange how easy it is for him to switch back and forth like that, but you don't mind it.

"Yeah!" The others cheer in unison. You put your toiletries away and retrieve your book, sunglasses, and beach blanket. You put the glasses over your eyes, carrying a cooler full of drinks in your other hand. Everyone else is carrying towels, snacks, beach balls, and a boombox in their hands. You and Eddie lead the way to the lake, which is a little farther away than you expect. But once you reach it, you can't help but gasp at the beauty before you.

"Holy shit." You say as you take in the scene. The lake is huge, and there's surprisingly no one else around. The water is clear as glass, just like Eddie said it would be, and those colorful rocks really pop as the sun shines down on the wide open space. On the other side of the lake is a thick treeline, with a family of deer drinking from the crystalline waters. Birds fly overhead, cawing their mating calls and swirling in playful circles. You set down your blanket a good twenty feet from the water, laying it on the silky smooth rocks underfoot. You lay on your stomach, opening your book to the earmarked page you left off on.

Eddie puts his stuff next to you, giving you a wink before taking off his sandals. He pulls out his ponytail, slipping the hair tie on his wrist. And then he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his bare torso to you. You stare up at him as his arms raise above his head, eating up every inch of skin that comes into view. His tattoos are on full display, and you can't resist licking your lips when you see the trail of hair that runs from his chest all the way down until it disappears inside his swim trunks. "See something you like, baby?" He asks, a knowing smile playing on his face. Before you can answer, he runs like the wind into the water. He forces his legs through the resisting surface, until he eventually falls forward into the transparent depths. He pops his head out a moment later, flipping his hair backwards. He catches your eye, standing with the surface of the water resting at his shoulders.

"You comin' in, Y/N?" Dustin asks from the little cluster of towels he formed with Mike and the others. Gareth sets the boombox on a large rock near their spot, pushing play on one of Eddie's mixtapes. "Start Me Up" by The Rolling Stones begins to play, and Gareth turns the volume up.

"In a bit, I just want to read for a while first." You shout, yanking your eyes away from the direction of the water.

"Okay!" He calls back over the music, and the rest of the boys strip off their shirts and shoes to join your leader in the lake. They immediately start roughhousing, splashing around and doing handstands. You giggle at their antics, trying to focus on your novel for a bit. You open the cooler you brought with you, pulling out a beer. You crack it open, and take a nice long drink from it. It's icy cold, which is perfect with the sun beating down on you the way it is. You get through a few chapters of your book without being disturbed, but it doesn't take long for the guys to try to coax you into the water with them.

"C'mon, Y/N! Stop being boring and get in here!" Jeff calls with his hands around his mouth to increase volume.

"The water feels great!" Alex chimes in.

"Don't make us have to come get you, sweetheart!" Eddie shouts, giving you a devilish grin. Your eyes widen beneath your sunglasses. You know perfectly well that they can and will gang up on you to toss you into the lake.

You sigh, marking your place and setting down your book. "Fine! I'm coming!" You yell, standing to remove your cover-up. Just as you're on your own two feet, "Moving in Stereo" by The Cars kicks on. Time seems to slow down, like you're having your very own Phoebe Cates moment. You slide out of your flip-flops, and toss your sunglasses away without a care. You reach for the button of the black garment that's been hiding you away, pushing it through the hole. The fabric parts like the red sea, and you slip it off your shoulders. The thin material pools on your blanket, and your sexy bikini is fully exposed. All the boys are staring at you, eyes going wide as saucers when they see how gorgeous you look.

"Woah." They say in unison, and you can't help taking it as a massive compliment. You smile innocently, and start to dash towards the water. It's cold when it hits your toes, but you don't react at all. You just keep going, running as far as you can until the resistance takes you down the same as it did to the others. You let the cool water surround you for a moment, slowly turning your body around to pop out to the surface. You gasp in a deep breath of air once you breach, flipping your hair back like models do.

"Fuck, that’s cold!" You exclaim, making everyone laugh. Eddie drifts over to you, calmly kicking his feet below the surface. His arm brushes against your ass, making you whip around to look at him.

"Hey there, princess. Lookin' good." He says smoothly, flitting away like a waterbug as soon as the words leave his lips. You blush at his compliment, and you decide to swim in the opposite direction. You have no destination in mind, you just want to enjoy the water. When you stand up straight, the water goes up to your neck, but you can see all the way down. Beautiful stones lie beneath your feet, in bright blues and reds and greens. It's like you're swimming in a giant fishbowl, a little guppy flapping your fins to pass the time. You notice Eddie circling you, almost like a shark. He gets closer and closer with every rotation, his eyes glued to your form the whole time. He even dips his head under to get a better look at you, admiring every curve of your body. The rounds of your ass, and the swells of your tits. Your beautiful legs that he wants to spread so desperately.

You're surprised no one seems to be watching you two, glancing cautiously to find the other boys playing Marco Polo. He comes up behind you again, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Hey there, handsome." You greet him, pushing your ass against him slightly.

"You havin' fun, angel?" He asks lowly in your ear, barely concealing a groan from you backing into him. Despite the coldness of the water, Eddie found himself getting unbearably hard the second he saw how perfect you look in your swimsuit.

"Yes, the water feels amazing." You sigh, letting him pull you a little closer. His chest meets your back, and you can feel his stiff cock poking into you. "Is that a fish in your shorts, or are you just happy to see me?" You ask in a cheesy tone. Small chuckles leave your mouths at the poor joke.

"Oh, I'm very happy to see you, sweetheart. You're so fuckin' pretty in this, baby." Eddie says while feeling you up to emphasize his point. "Although, I have a feeling you look even better out of it." You moan quietly, savoring the feeling of his large hands wandering all over you.

"You're very sexy too, Eds. You look so good without your shirt on. Your tattoos are so hot, I just want to trace them all with my tongue." Your eyes slip closed for a moment, and you can't help letting your head fall back against his shoulder.

"You're lucky I'm keeping a lookout, darling. Gonna get us caught when you do that." He nibbles your earlobe, and squeezes your tits through your top. He's doing everything he can to make you melt, and it's definitely working. The sensations he's giving you are amplified immensely as the heat from your body clashes with the frigid waters surrounding you.

"Sorry, I'm just really enjoying what you're doing to me." You practically whine at him, which only revs him up further.

"So am I, Y/N." He replies, before pulling away from you when he senses someone about to look in your direction. You open your eyes again, fighting off a frown at the loss of Eddie's touch.

"What are you guys up to over there?" Mike asks, raising an eyebrow as he swore he saw you and Eddie getting real cozy a second ago.

"Nothing. Just talking." You lie, swimming over to join the rest of the group.

"Oh, okay. Well, we’re gonna start some chicken fights if you guys want to play." Mike offers.

"Oh, that sounds fun! I'm pretty good, too. Eddie, you wanna hold me on your shoulders?" You ask, pouting your lips to beg.

"Of course, princess. Hop on." Eddie smiles, lowering himself in the water so you can climb onto him. You slip your legs over his shoulders, and he holds you up firmly and safely. "Alright, who's going against us first?" He asks, looking around at the others.

"How about me and Gareth?" Dustin suggests.

"Sure." Gareth replies, mimicking Eddie's position to get Dustin on top of him.

Your two teams stand across from each other in the water, waiting for Jeff to tell you when to begin. "Ready?" He asks, looking to you and then to Dustin. You both nod, staring each other down as you prepare to push the other one over. "Okay, go!" Jeff shouts, and Eddie and Gareth meet in the middle. You hold Dustin's arms, shoving him down with ease. He falls backwards, splashing loudly into the water.

"Nice job, Y/N!" Eddie cheers, his right hand leaving your leg so you can give him a high five. "Alright, who's up next?" Eddie says with glee. You're smiling giddily at his competitiveness, he can't wait to beat every last one of these knuckleheads.

"I'll go with Mike." Alex says, saddling the scrawny kid on his shoulders. You return to position, and Jeff tells you to go again. You grab Mike by the wrists, jerking them around to throw him off balance. He puts up a good fight, but he eventually slips off as he can't keep a firm grip on Alex. Another loud splash signals your second victory.

"Woo! We win again! I told you I was good." You brag, ruffling Eddie's soaked hair.

"No way, they let you win 'cuz you're a girl." Jeff insists.

"Oh, you think so? Why don't you give it a try, Jeff?" You sneer, crossing your arms defiantly.

"Bring it on! I'm not afraid to take down a chick." He says, getting onto Gareth's shoulders. Alex counts you down this time, and your teams charge forward more aggressively than before. Jeff grips your elbows first, but you quickly slip from his grasp. You take hold of his wrists, crossing his arms over one another. He tries to break free, but you refuse to let go. Eddie tightens his grip to help hold you up, he can feel you slipping backwards in your efforts. Finally, you jerk Jeff's arms upwards, which sends him flailing into the water.

"What's that again about 'letting me win'?" You ask once Jeff resurfaces. He scowls at you, but you just smile nice and wide. Suddenly, Eddie tosses you backwards into the lake. You scream as you go down, splashing hard into the water. You pop back out a moment later, coughing as you get some up your nose. "What the hell?" You shout, a little annoyed at him throwing you like that.

"Oh, relax, princess. You got three wins, I figured you'd want a dip too." Eddie replies, reeling you in to give you a hug. You stiffen at first, before relaxing into his embrace. "No hard feelings, right?" He asks as he lets you go.

"Alright. I'm still the champion though." You state plainly, taking a deep breath. You let yourself sink to the bottom of the lake for a moment. You open your eyes, admiring the pretty rocks below as you blow bubbles through your nose. Eddie mirrors you, grinning happily when he sees your face. He looks so gorgeous like this, his thick hair splaying about like a merman, the sun dancing on the water in the most magical way. He swims over to you, capturing you in his arms. He strokes your cheek with a pruney hand, and gives you a gentle kiss. It doesn't last for more than a second or two, as you can't hold your breath very long. But it's very romantic, sending your heart aflutter.

You go back up for air, wondering where Eddie went off to. You don't see him, whipping around to look all around for his mop of hair. "BOO!" Eddie shouts as he springs up right behind you. You don't know how you didn't see him coming, he must be very good at staying right on your back. You scream bloody murder when he scares you, turning around to smack him repeatedly across the chest.

"Dammit, Eddie! You asshole! You scared the shit out of me!" You yell, drawing everyone's attention in your direction. Eddie laughs hysterically, shielding himself from you splashing water at him.

"Man, I got you good, huh?" He cackles, making the others laugh too. You keep shoving water towards him, falling into your own fit of giggles.

"You're lucky I don't kick your ass, Munson!" You squeal, jumping to tackle him into the water. You both go under again, with you on top of him. His hands immediately grab your waist, and you're practically straddling him. You give him a kiss of your own, harsher and hungrier than his. You bite his bottom lip roughly, before pulling away to return to the surface. Eddie follows close behind you, swallowing air in large gulps since you caught him off guard.

"Jesus, you tryin' to drown me?" He asks jokingly.

"Not at all, Eds. Just getting even." You smirk, casually swimming away from him as this little game is over.

"You guys are laying it on a little thick today, don't you think?" Mike asks, noticing how overly playful you're being. It's not the typical 'Y/N is one of the guys' kind of play. This...is flirting.

You ignore his statement, deciding to take a break from the water. You work your way to the shore, slowly fighting against that resistance once more until you can easily jog out to your blanket. You lay down in your spot, reaching for your sunglasses to keep the light out of your eyes. You close your eyes, sighing blissfully in the warmth shining down upon you. A moment later, you feel cold water dripping onto your face. "Mind if I join you?" Eddie asks, and you see him peering at you.

"You really gotta ask?" You chuckle, patting a free spot on your blanket. He lays down beside you, sneakily taking your hand in his. It's such a simple touch, but it makes you want so much more. "Do you have any idea how badly I want you right now?" You say casually, trying to make it look like you're having a normal conversation.

"I think so...I'd bet I want you even more, though." He replies, turning his head to look at you closely. His eyes scan over the little droplets of water on your cheeks and chin, and your damp hair clinging to your head. His pupils wander down your body, memorizing every last inch of you. He lifts himself slightly to see what the kids are up to. He finds they're back to playing Marco Polo, except everyone has their eyes closed instead of just the person who is 'it'. "You wanna sneak off into the woods with me? The idiots seem to be distracted at the moment." You meet his gaze at this suggestion, finding a blazing fire of wanting there.

"I'll repeat myself. Do you really have to ask?" You quip, quickly standing up with him. You slip on your shoes, and he takes your hand as you slink away from the group. You follow the trail at first, before heading into the trees. You're both giggling like mad, finding a decent spot. It's not too far away from the trail so you won't get lost, but back behind it enough so nobody will see you. Eddie's quick to push you against the thick trunk of one of the trees, and he takes your sunglasses off before kissing you roughly. You moan against him, reaching down to stroke his dick through his wet bathing suit.

"Fuck, someone's needy." He groans, moving on to nip on your neck.

"Well, can you blame me?" You chuckle lowly. Eddie's own hands go behind your back, pulling you forward slightly to reach for the clip holding your top together.

"Can I?" He asks, somehow unsure if this is what you really want.

"Yes, please." You whine, squeezing him a little harder to egg him on. He opens the clasp, and the bikini top falls to the ground like it's nothing at all. Your tits are exposed to the air, your nipples hardening in arousal.

Eddie stares at your chest for a moment, slowly bringing his hands to cup your breasts. "You're beautiful, sweetheart." He says, in total awe of you. You whimper at the sensation of his fingers rolling your sensitive buds. "Does that feel good, angel?" He asks while watching your pretty face twist in pleasure with every move he makes.

"Yes, so fucking good. But I want more." You arch your back, reflexively trying to bring your pussy closer to his cock.

"Relax, baby. We'll get to that soon enough." Eddie coos. He presses you against the tree again with just the right amount of pressure, bending down slightly to bring his mouth to your left breast. His tongue swirls around the pebbled flesh, before biting just hard enough to make you moan.

"Eddie." You're about to ask him to stop teasing, when you notice him slowly lowering to his knees. He leaves hot, wet kisses along the way until he reaches the waistband of your bottoms. You step out of your shoes, and he grips the material with both hands to pull it down. You watch wordlessly as he exposes your cunt, kicking the little piece of fabric away.

"You ever had someone go down on you before?" He asks, lifting your right leg to rest over his shoulder. He gets a perfect view of your dripping pussy, his eyes widening in wonderment.

"No, you're my first, Eds." You say with a kind smile, caressing his cheek to show him how much this moment means to you.

"Damn, well, I hope I'm not being cocky when I say you're gonna love it." He says cheekily.

"Since it's you, I'm sure I will." You reply, eagerly waiting to feel his lips and tongue on your most sensitive areas. He nods, a light blush rising in his cheeks at your encouragement. He moves your standing leg further out slightly, and then he brings his face in front of your core. His breath fans against it, making you shiver. He finally puts his mouth on you, licking quick circles around your clit. "Oh my god!" You cry out, you've never felt anything like this before. His mouth is so warm, and his tongue works at the perfect speed. He paints long stripes from your bundle of nerves to your entrance, occasionally dipping inside to stroke your g spot. "I know I don't have anything to compare it to, but you're really good at this."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, baby." Eddie says briefly before continuing his work. Your hands tangle in his hair, holding him as close to you as humanly possible. Your hips repeatedly buck against him, and you use the tree trunk as leverage to keep from falling over. You can feel your orgasm building up fast, it seems Eddie's very talented at giving head.

"Your tongue is so fuckin' good, Eds. Keep going, you're gonna make me cum." As soon as the words leave your mouth, Eddie pushes two fingers into your pussy to work in tandem with his tongue swirling figure eights around your clit. Your grip tightens on his head, and your nails dig into his scalp. He groans against you at the sting, sending overwhelming vibrations through your lower half. "God, do that again." You plead, and he happily obeys you.

"Mmm." He moans into your folds, louder and rougher than before. Your pelvis jolts at the sensation. He does it again. And again. His cock strains harder in his trunks at the sounds he pulls from you each time. You're just on the precipice, all you need is one more. He anticipates your needs, humming stronger than ever before. That, paired with his digits hitting your sweet spot as his mouth sucks onto your clit, sends you flying over the edge.

"Eddie!" You cry out, letting go of his head to grab helplessly at the tree you're leaning against. He holds your legs steady so you don't fall over, squeezing slightly as your thighs shake. Waves of bliss have overtaken you, and your eyes meet his while you ride out your high. He swallows every last drop of your cum that he can, a dribble of it running down his chin. He drinks in all the fucked-out expressions that cross your face, committing them to memory.

Eddie slowly stands up once your body relaxes, and he kisses you deeply. You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, holding him as close as you can. "You did so well, sweetheart. And you taste amazing, I could do that all day." He praises once he breaks away.

"I'll have to take you up on that offer sometime." You reply with a smile. "But right now...it's your turn." You carefully spin the two of you around, so Eddie's back is against the tree now. You give him another kiss, letting your hands caress his bare chest. Your mouth moves on to his neck, nipping ever so slightly on his flesh.

"Y/N." He groans at the sensation, his eyes rolling shut. You begin to travel downwards, littering his chest with more kisses and light bites that won't leave a mark. You do as you said you wanted to earlier, tracing the outline of his tattoos with your tongue. First the spider, then the demon-zombie thing, and then you gingerly take his right arm in your hands. The wet muscle in your mouth drags along the wyvern, and the puppet master, ending with all the little bats on his forearm. He makes the sweetest whimpers and moans as you work, forcing his eyes open to observe you worshiping him.

"I love how much noise you make, Eds. It’s really hot." You know it's kind of a thing that most men don't like to make any sound at all, short of the occasional grunt. But to hear this man in particular allow himself to vocally express his pleasure feels so intimate and special. You've learned time and again that Eddie is no ordinary man, and this instance serves as further evidence of that fact.

"It's all for you, angel." He breathes heavily, waiting for you to make your next move. You get onto your knees, leaves and sticks pressing into them. You plant more whispering kisses on his stomach, even going so far as to dip your tongue into his navel. He moans again, making you grin. Your hands reach for the drawstrings of his trunks, quickly undoing the perfect knot he tied earlier. The thin strings lay limp now, and you grip the sides of the fabric to pull the shorts down his legs. His dick springs free, slapping against his stomach. Eddie kicks the shorts away once they reach his ankles, and you place one hand on his thigh while taking hold of his length in the other. "Fuck." He grips the tree behind him as best he can, waiting for you to take him in your mouth.

You stroke him lightly, taking a moment to admire the shape of him. He's certainly larger than the others (though it doesn't take much to achieve that), a bit thicker too. He feels so velvety soft in your hand, and you like how he has a slight upward curve. "Your dick is really pretty, Eddie." You observe out loud, drawing a laugh from him.

"Well, that's the first time I've heard that before." He chuckles, looking down at you curiously.

"Is that weird to say?" You ask, feeling your cheeks heat up at the idea of ruining the mood.

"Not at all, princess. It's just...different. But that's what I admire about you. And I appreciate any compliment coming from you, especially about that. Believe it or not, I may have a bit of an ego." He jokes, giving you a kind glance.

"No shit!" You laugh, your embarrassment melting away at his reassuring words. You stop messing around, you're sure Eddie finds your snail's pace a bit torturous at this point. You focus on the task at hand, starting with little swirling licks around his tip.

"Fuck, Y/N. More...please." He begs, needing to feel your hot, wet mouth around him. You grant his request, taking as much of him as you can. You continue to stroke what doesn't fit with your hand, twisting just right while you bob your head back and forth. "Feels so good, baby." He says through a moan, watching his inches disappear behind your pretty lips. He resists the urge to hold your head down to fuck your face, enjoying every lick and bit of suction you're giving him. "I'm not sure how much experience you have, but you're very good at this, sweetheart."

You slip off of him a moment, quickening the pace of your hand to hold him over. Your palm spreads your saliva back and forth while you speak. "Oh, you know how guys are. They love having their cock sucked, it's practically all they talk about." He raises an eyebrow at you, almost offended. "Not you, obviously. But you know what I mean. So I've got a few blowjobs under my belt, and...maybe I practiced on various objects so I could do this...for you." You avert your gaze again, unable to believe you just admitted to such a thing.

"All that effort, just for me?" He asks, like it's the most impossible thing he's ever heard. For you to go to such lengths to please him, he can't help loving you even more than he did previously.

"Of course, Eddie. Because you're worth it." You state matter-of-factly, bringing this conversation to a close by returning your mouth to his dick. You push yourself to fit him all in, gagging slightly when he hits the back of your throat.

"Fucking christ." Eddie mutters. The back of his head thumps against the tree as you continue to gag on him. Your eyes are watering, and you force yourself to breathe through your nose. You want to do everything you can to make the man whimpering above you lose control, to taste his cum spilling into your mouth. "Keep going if you can, baby. I'm getting really close. Such a good girl for me." Eddie pants, reaching down to stroke your hair without forcing you to choke on him. It's a gentle touch, only intended to provide encouragement and praise. His words and sounds and caring hand are making you so wet. Your arousal drips onto the ground below you, forming the tiniest of puddles in the dirt.

"Mmm." You moan around his cock, your insides aching to invite him in. His hips buck forwards at the vibrations, choking you slightly. You look up at him as his stomach begins to tense. He's got one hand in your hair, the other extended as far up the tree as he can reach. His fingers claw helplessly at the bark, and the look on his face is priceless. His brow is furrowed, his eyes screwed shut. But his mouth sits open just enough to let out what you can only describe as beautifully vulgar music. Various curses and expressions of your name make up the lyrics, and if it weren't for his inevitable release, you'd want to hear it for the rest of your days.

"Y/N, I'm gonna...fuck!" He grunts, interrupted within his own thoughts by overwhelming pleasure. His toes curl against the natural debris on the ground, and his knees threaten to give out. He bucks into you once, twice, three times while his load flows down your esophagus. You keep yourself from panicking from the sensation, breathing heavily through your nostrils as you brush against his mound of hair. You swallow every last drop of him, slowly pulling yourself off his length when Eddie's hands fall limply at his sides. You gulp in a few breaths, and gradually get off your knees. They've got indentations from the rocks and sticks you were kneeling on, but you don't mind one bit. Once you're level with him, Eddie pulls you in real close to give you a thankful kiss. "You were amazing, darling." He says with a satisfied smirk.

"Thank you." You blush, failing to swallow a pleased giggle. His arms rest around your lower back, just above your ass. Your own are sitting on his shoulders, and you're both just standing naked in the woods. Bodies pressed together, smiling and sharing more kisses. You stay like this for a while, until you feel Eddie's dick poking into your stomach as he's grown hard again. You bite your lip, a devious look in your eye as you speak nice and low when you pull away from another kiss. "I want you inside me, Eds." You slip your hand between your sandwiched bodies, taking hold of him and dragging his tip along your folds.

"You don't have to tell me twice, sweetheart." Eddie replies in a husky tone, his eyes dilating with lust to match your own. He doesn't move for a moment, savoring the feeling of your soaked pussy lubing him up. His eyes flutter shut, face falling forward. You let out muted moans as his head brushes your clit, it feels so fucking good. But you know this teasing will only push you both further into neediness. He stops your movements, and rotates the pair of you again. He holds his cock in his hand, bending down slightly so he can angle himself into you. "You ready, princess?" He asks, pressing his tip at your entrance while looking to you for confirmation.

"Yes, baby." You reply, barely above a whisper. Without a moment's hesitation, Eddie pushes his length into your velvet walls. You both groan loudly at the sensation. He fills you up perfectly, and your pussy hugs him so deliciously. He takes his time before bottoming out. "You're so big, Eddie." You whine, needing a moment to adjust.

"And your pussy is so tight, Y/N." He murmurs, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist before standing fully upright. His hands hold the bottoms of your thighs, and you instinctively put your arms around him to hold on. You clench around him involuntarily at his movements, making him gasp. "Fuck, you're so wet for me."

"Just for you, baby. You can start moving now." You give him the go ahead now that you've relaxed. He slowly pulls out, before slipping back in easily. He slides against your g spot, and you want him to do it again. "More. I need you, Eds." You beg, digging your heels into his back to bring him closer, if that's even possible. He repeats the action, except he hits your sweet spot harder when he thrusts back in. "Just like that, oh, god. Feels so good." You're making the most pathetic noises you've ever uttered, and of course it's Eddie that is the only one who can pull them from you.

He listens intently to everything you say, maintaining the same speed and force behind his thrusts to meet your expectations. "Who makes you feel this good, angel?" Eddie inquires darkly, his eyes trained on your desperate face.

"You do." You reply, unsure where he's going with this. It's sexy as hell regardless. A knot begins to form within you, growing larger and tighter with every slam of Eddie's dick into your cunt.

"And I'm better than all the other guys?" He asks, though it doesn't come out like a question. More so like a fact, one he wants you to agree with over anything else. His eyes burn intensely into you, expecting an answer as his pace kicks up a notch.

You meet his gaze as fully and honestly as possible, wanting to show him how right he is in his statement. "Yes. You're better than Steve, and Jason, and everyone else. None of them compare to you. Fuck me harder, Eddie. Show me just how much better you are." You moan at all the right words to set him off, and he unleashes the inner beast on you. He hammers his cock upwards into you, the sound of your soaked pussy and the slapping of skin mingling with your grunts and whines. Your tits bounce at the force, making Eddie's eyes boggle. "Yes, just like that, baby." The knot is tangling more and more, gearing up for a monumental snap.

"That's right, sweetheart. I'm the best you've ever had. Got you begging me to pound into this pretty pussy of yours, taking my cock so well like a good girl. I never wanna hear those other names again, Y/N. Only mine, because you're mine." He almost growls as he spouts off the filthiest things you've ever heard. He's claiming you as his, and you have every intention of allowing him to do so any way he pleases.

"All yours." You moan in response, getting closer and closer to an unbelievable climax. The bark of the tree is scratching roughly against your skin, you're sure to have marks on your back once you're finished. But you don't care about your friends finding out anymore. You want to scream your love for Eddie from the mountaintops at this point, telling the world who you belong to. "I'm so close, Eds. Make me cum, I want you to feel it. I want you to see just how fuckin' amazing you are." You plead while holding his stare, so he knows you mean every word with the utmost sincerity.

Eddie eats up all of your confessions with enthusiasm. To hear you match his vulgarity is almost enough to make him lose it right here and now. He could listen to you say X-rated things all damn day, they sound like pure poetry coming from your lips. His rhythm is getting sloppy as he nears the end with you, and the obscene amount of sweat coating your bodies is making it difficult to keep a good grip on each other. "God, I love it when you talk dirty. I'm right there with you, angel. Do you want me to cum inside you? I'd really love to fill you up, and watch my load drip back out of you once we're done."

"Yes, please. That sounds perfect." You reply, digging your nails into what you can reach of Eddie's slick flesh. He groans at the pleasurable sting, and presses his lips to yours as he picks up speed. He's drilling into you, the rough edges of the treebark on your back cutting deeper, drawing blood. You can't be bothered to care, as the knot in your belly finally splinters into a million little threads through your body. You break away from his kiss, gasping as you hit your peak. "Eddie!" You scream, feeling yourself clamping down on Eddie's cock. You're overwhelmed with absolute bliss, it ricochets through you ruthlessly. Your eyes fall shut, your mouth hanging open as you let out pitiful noises through your orgasm.

"Shit, Y/N. I'm gonna cum. Gonna fill your beautiful pussy up so well. Then I'll clean you up with my tongue, taste how good we are together. I'll let you taste it too- FUCK!" He shouts, his pelvis rutting upwards while he paints your insides just like you asked him to. He holds on to your shaking thighs as firmly as he can, one wrong move and you'll both tumble to the ground. His expression twists into the same one from his blowjob earlier, completely helpless for a few moments as you ride out your highs together. You're left breathing heavily in each other's faces, hot and humid. Your hearts pound in your chests, you can feel them exchanging rapid ba-thumps through your ribs.

Eddie pulls out, and sets you down gently. You can already feel your mixed release oozing out of your cunt. He gets on his knees again, his hands gripping your thighs to keep your legs spread apart. He watches as a milky white drip falls from your soaked hole to the ground below. He doesn't want to waste anymore of the sweet nectar, so he brings his starving mouth to your folds. His tongue dips inside you, scooping out as much of your cum as he can into his mouth. He moans at the taste, sending a shock to your core. "Fuck, baby." You whimper, still feeling the aftermath of your high which leaves you overly sensitive. He gathers as much of the sticky substance as he can muster, swallowing some, and holding the rest to give to you.

"Open." He says with his mouth half-full as he stands up straight. You do as he says, and he gives you another kiss to effectively transfer the fluid to your taste buds. It's so sweet, with just a tinge of saltiness. You swallow every last drop he gives to you, moaning at the flavor, and how debauched this act is.

"Damn, we taste good." You comment, sharing a light chuckle. Eddie backs up from you to redress, and it's here that the sting of the scratches all over your back starts to get to you. "Ouch." You whimper, trying to turn around to get a glimpse of the damage.

"Oh my god!" Eddie exclaims when he sees the cuts and scrapes all over your delicate skin. He holds your sides to inspect you further, shaking his head. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't wanna hurt you." Remorse laces his voice, but you whip around to reassure him that it's not his fault.

"Eds, it's fine. It can't be that bad, just needs some bactine and bandages, right?" You say sweetly, smiling to cover up for how sore the bloodied scribbles are.

"I suppose...but they guys are definitely gonna know I fucked your brains out now." He jokes, making you giggle.

"I don't care about that anymore." You say simply, taking hold of his hand for a second while you bask in your naked afterglow.

His eyes widen, unable to believe you actually said that. "Really?"

"Really, Eds. We were gonna tell them anyway, and I'm sure they'll be happy for us."

"I'm so glad you said that, sweetheart. I know it's been fun to sneak around, but it's also kinda stressful." He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"It really is. Look, let's get dressed and go back to the lake. We can face them and confirm their suspicions. Sound good?" You offer, bending down to pick up the individual pieces of your bikini.

"Sounds great, Y/N.'' He replies, retrieving his swim trunks. He slips them on easily, giving time for him to help you with the clasp on your top.

Once you're dressed, you slip into your shoes and make the trip back to your group. You find them all sitting on their cluster of towels and blankets, waiting for you. "Well, look who it is! The lovebirds have returned after abandoning the party!" Gareth says snarkily, but you and Eddie just smile like dopes at his jabs.

"And don't even try to make up some lame excuse. You guys were gone way too long for any bullshit you're about to say." Jeff adds, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"Alright, alright! You caught us! We've been sneaking around the last couple days, but only because you guys don't know when to shut the fuck up!" You explain, squeezing Eddie's hand that you've been holding this whole time.

"But if you must know, we're hopelessly, disgustingly in love." Eddie says, fighting off a maddening blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Hell yeah!" Dustin cheers, coming over to give you both a hug. The others join in, crowding your sweaty bodies in a large huddle.

"Okay, okay. Careful, Y/N's got a ton of scratches on her back." Eddie warns when you wince at multiple hands meeting your scraped flesh.

"The hell did you do to her, Munson?" Alex asks, quirking and eyebrow at Eddie.

"He did a lot of things, but this is from a tree...that I may have been pressed up against." You admit, your own cheeks going rosy to match your boyfriend's.

"Oh, ew! I don't wanna hear about that!" Mike says, plugging his ears and making obnoxious noises to block out any further comments.

"Okay, I think we've said enough. Let's go back to camp. We can have lunch, and I'll help Y/N with her injuries." Eddie announces the plan, and everyone gathers up their belongings to go back down the trail to the campsite.

"We're really happy for you guys, by the way." Dustin adds as you walk together in a clump, yours and Eddie's hands still entwined. The others add various expressions of agreement, all of which make your heart soar. To have the overwhelming approval of your friends is so sweet, and you appreciate everyone being so cool about it now. You look over at Eddie, finding his doeish eyes gazing back at you.

"I love you, Eds." You say quietly, smiling harder than you think you've ever done before.

"I love you too, princess." Eddie replies, leaning over to give you a light kiss as you keep walking. Your friends make exaggerated kissy noises with their mouths, flapping their tongues lewdly. But you just laugh it off, their teasing can't bother you anymore. Because you know it's done with love, and that this moment can't be spoiled by any amount of jokes or comments. As long as you have Eddie, nothing else matters.

The end.

[seitmai]

I loved this and therfore have many thoughts

Early September was brutal in southern California. Each day seemed hotter than the one before it, and even the smallest bit of yard work was enough to leave Bradley sweaty and miserable. He stood in the middle of his front yard, eyes closed, thinking about how beautiful autumn was in Virginia when he was a kid. He leaned against the handle of the rake, picturing a pumpkin patch, a corn maze and all the things he would never find in San Diego.

🥺🥺🥺

What he didn't mention was the fact that he often still felt like a bit of an outsider in town, even though he attended all the neighborhood potlucks and still had some blond in his hair from hanging out on the local beaches all summer.

Poor Bradley 🥺

"And you like the neighborhood?" you asked, fully facing him now with a smirk on your face. He shrugged the best he could without moving too much. "I might like it better now."

Oh he is such a flirt 🤭

Then there was the day you bumped into him coming out of the salon next to his barber, and he complimented your colorful nails at the same time you told him his haircut looked nice. He blushed, and you smiled before turning toward your car, glancing back at him a little expectantly. 

So cute😍

"Why's that?" you asked, placing your hand on your hip while you held up a head of cabbage. "You're a picky eater?" He shook his head and took a step closer to you. "The exact opposite. I love food. I will eat literally anything that is edible." "I guess it makes sense that you love food," you told him with a smile. "You're a big boy." Your gaze drifted down along his shoulders and chest before you started to look a little embarrassed. "I... yeah... I think I'll just grab whatever looks good and take it from there. See you on Friday night?" "Yeah," he grunted as you walked toward an eggplant display. He would see you on Friday night. And he would be prepared ahead of time to ask you out.

He definitely is rehearsing, asking her out in front of the mirror as soon as he is home 🤭

Once again, your laughter had him ready to drop what he was holding and reach for you. He had to ask you out tonight. It had been weeks already since you moved in, and you were definitely giving him a green light. He could think of a dozen different restaurants he wanted to take you to, and maybe you'd like the artsy little movie theater.

It's so cute that he has all these ideas already 🥹

He ran his hand over his face and groaned, parking in front of the restaurant and yanking his keys from the ignition. If he'd just asked you out that day, maybe he'd be picking up twice as much food and sharing it with you tonight.

Oh he is regretting all his life choices right then and there

The air was silent except for the muffled sound of food being prepared in the kitchen behind him. Your eyes looked so sad as you shook your head and pressed your lips together. "No. No, I'm sorry, Bradley."

Oh noooo💔🥺

For the first time since he moved to California, the air outside was too cold. There was an uncomfortable knot in his stomach as he glanced over at your car. He shivered miserably as he saw the shadow of someone waiting in your passenger seat. Then he drove home and ate alone in his kitchen before going to bed.

He is heartbroken before anything even happened 💔 🥲

Today was Halloween, and he spent over an hour carving some of the pumpkins to look like soccer balls before dressing in his usual costume. Handing candy out to the neighborhood kids and trying to guess what they were dressed as sounded like fun. He was determined to have a good night, even if he did have to angle the folding chair on his porch so he was facing slightly away from your house. He would enjoy himself no matter what.

🥺🥺🥺

"Where's Raphael?" he asked as they collected their candy.  Leonardo laughed and said, "Nobody wants to be Raphael. He's the lamest one." "I would have to agree," Bradley replied, about to help himself to a piece of candy as they started to run to the next house.

I feel like Rooster is good with kids because he has the same interests as kids it seems 😅

"Hi," you replied immediately, looking from his mustache to the whistle around his neck and back up to his visor. "Are you seriously dressed as Ted Lasso?" "I always dress as Ted Lasso," he told you, and he was rewarded with a smile that made him want to follow you around the neighborhood like a lost puppy. 

Oh he 100% would

The kid nodded but said, "You need to call it a football." Bradley found himself agreeing. "You're completely right. It's only proper."

Come on Bradley, get into your role☝🏻

Your eyes were alert, scrutinizing his expression as you said, "His name is Max. He's almost ten." "He looks like you." You went silent for a few seconds, fiddling with the soccer ball in your hands. When you finally spoke, you were looking at Bradley's feet. "I knew you didn't know about him. I mean, you did ask me out after all." You laughed even though nothing was funny and finally looked up at his face. Then Max started to walk back the way you and he came, and you followed him. Bradley called your name. When you turned back, he said, "To be clear, I would have still asked you out if I'd known." And then you looked so sad again.

🥺🥲😭

"It's a spicy buffalo dip," you replied, smile growing. "I literally made it with chicken from a can. I'm pretty sure you could trick them into thinking it came from your kitchen. You can even take your tortilla chips, too."

She truly made it thinking about him 🥹

His fingers tightened on the handles when you took a small step closer to him. This was agony, being so close to you when he really wanted to touch you, but knew he couldn't. He whispered your name at the same time you looked up at him and started talking. "Max isn't my son. He's my nephew. But I'm his legal guardian now." Bradley's lips parted, but you shook your head and quickly added. "The night of the last potluck, I got a phone call that my brother and his wife were in a car accident. They both died before they reached the hospital. I had to pick Max up from soccer practice that night, and he's been with me ever since." Tears were welling up in your eyes as Bradley tried to shuffle your crock pot to one hand. He knew how badly this kind of thing hurt from his own childhood. "Shit. I'm really sorry the two of you are going through this. But Max is lucky he has you." When you nodded and shrugged, you looked resigned to the way things were. "I'm also pretty sure Max prefers it when you call it football. Not soccer."

😭😭😭

Almost a year later, Bradley was standing in his front yard, smiling at the SOLD sticker placed on a realty sign in front of your house. It made sense to have you and Max move into the white cottage with him, because the porch was bigger. It was the perfect size for an elaborate Halloween display.

It was over almost as quickly as it started, and Bradley was ready to drop to his knees and beg you for more. But you were rambling now, and he was trying his best to focus. "I wanted you to ask me out so badly. But then everything changed, and I had to tell you no. Max has a lot he still needs to process, and I don't really have time to date someone who just wants to mess around with me." For the first time in many weeks, Bradley felt lighter than air. He reached out with his free hand and let his knuckles trail gently along your cheek and down to your softly parted lips. "I'm forty years old. I'm kind of over the messing around stage," he promised. And then you were kissing him again.

Ahhhh this is perfect 😭🥰🥳🥹😍

I love it!! I feel like this is a role Bradley would thrive in, because of him loosing his parents young too, he would try the hardest and kinda knows what it can feel like or a person in a situation like that needs 🥹🫶🏻

California Autumn | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was drawn to you the minute you moved onto his street. You seemed to bump into one another everywhere, and each time he saw your smile or heard your laugh, he knew he had to ask you out. He wasn't expecting the answer you gave him, just as you weren't expecting to wish he could be the man for you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of accident/death, guardianship of child

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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Early September was brutal in southern California. Each day seemed hotter than the one before it, and even the smallest bit of yard work was enough to leave Bradley sweaty and miserable. He stood in the middle of his front yard, eyes closed, thinking about how beautiful autumn was in Virginia when he was a kid. He leaned against the handle of the rake, picturing a pumpkin patch, a corn maze and all the things he would never find in San Diego.

The sound of something bigger than a car coming down his quiet side street had him cracking his eyes open against the Saturday afternoon sun. A U-Haul lumbered to a stop in front of the house across the street and one door down. The engine settled to silence, and he craned his neck to get a better look. The property had been sitting there with a red and white SOLD sticker over the realty sign for what seemed like months, and now it would appear as though he finally had a new neighbor.

Bradley dropped the rake and had to lunge to grab the handle before it clattered against his stone pathway. The woman who climbed out of the truck, hopping down onto the street in some beat up sneakers, was beautiful. The sun seemed to illuminate her from the inside, and now Bradley was setting the rake down softly as she walked around the truck and slid the back open. It was filled with furniture and boxes, and he watched as an avalanche nearly flowed out as she tried to move one item.

"Shit," he grunted, running across the street as he wiped his dirty hands on the hem of his undershirt. "It looks like you could use a hand," he called out, hoping he wouldn't scare you when he came up behind you just in time to catch a dining chair that was teetering above your head. Then the neatly stacked boxes started to give out as well, and his left hand went to steady them.

You were ducking slightly, preparing for the worst when Bradley realized your back was pressed against his chest. If he moved, there would be a lot of broken furniture to contend with. But then you glanced at him over your shoulder as you stood to your full height, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

If you looked beautiful from across the street, then you looked stunning up close, trapped between his body and the truck. "Welcome to the neighborhood," he mumbled like an idiot, but he was rewarded by the smile that curled along your lips.

"Hey, you're pretty good at being neighborly," you replied, gesturing to his right hand holding the chair and his left securing the stack of boxes. His heartbeat quickened at the sound of your voice and how close you were as you told him your name and asked which house was his.

"I'm Bradley. The white cottage across the street." He nodded toward his mess of a front yard with his chin. "I moved in about six months ago." 

What he didn't mention was the fact that he often still felt like a bit of an outsider in town, even though he attended all the neighborhood potlucks and still had some blond in his hair from hanging out on the local beaches all summer. At the moment, all he could do was fight the urge to tell you how pretty your eyes were.

"And you like the neighborhood?" you asked, fully facing him now with a smirk on your face.

He shrugged the best he could without moving too much. "I might like it better now."

Your eyes widened a bit before you ducked your head, looking up at him with a surprised smile like you couldn't quite believe what he'd just said. And that's when Bradley heard another vehicle pull up behind him. "That would be my friends. Here to help me unpack."

He wanted to joke that it looked like you needed all the help you could get with your furniture avalanche, but he heard several voices calling your name and rushing over to help. He was invited to stay, but when he was finally able to safely back away without anything falling, he realized four other people were there to help you out.

Your eyes were still focused on his as he started to back away. "I'll see you around?" you asked before chewing on your lip.

"I would count on it," he confirmed, turning back toward his house so you could get settled into yours.

But he did hear one of your friends ask, "Who is he?"

"Bradley," you replied, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "From the white cottage."

--------------------------------

After that first encounter, he saw you everywhere. You were pulling into the parking spot next to his Bronco when he came out of the grocery store. When he asked how you liked your new house, it sparked a conversation about hardwood versus porcelain tile flooring, and Bradley's ice cream was completely melted by the time he got home.

Then there was the day you bumped into him coming out of the salon next to his barber, and he complimented your colorful nails at the same time you told him his haircut looked nice. He blushed, and you smiled before turning toward your car, glancing back at him a little expectantly. 

Then he ran into you at the farmer's market where you were buying vegetables for the upcoming neighborhood potluck. You asked him what he thought you should make.

"Well, I'm the wrong person to ask," he replied, feeling a little lightheaded as his brain begged him to ask you out on a date.

"Why's that?" you asked, placing your hand on your hip while you held up a head of cabbage. "You're a picky eater?"

He shook his head and took a step closer to you. "The exact opposite. I love food. I will eat literally anything that is edible."

Your bright laughter cascaded across his skin as your head tipped back. The expanse of your neck looked smooth and perfect, and Bradley wanted to have your permission to put his lips there. And that was a startling thought since nobody had really caught his attention like this since he was first stationed in San Diego. Nobody made him feel like he was at home in his house before you started waving to him whenever you saw him outside.

"I guess it makes sense that you love food," you told him with a smile. "You're a big boy." Your gaze drifted down along his shoulders and chest before you started to look a little embarrassed. "I... yeah... I think I'll just grab whatever looks good and take it from there. See you on Friday night?"

"Yeah," he grunted as you walked toward an eggplant display. He would see you on Friday night. And he would be prepared ahead of time to ask you out.

----------------------------

"No," you gasped. Bradley recognized your voice and turned around to face you in Mrs. Diaz's kitchen. "That's what you brought to the potluck?" You sounded appalled, but you were clearly smiling as you looked at what he was holding.

"I told you I liked to eat food, not that I knew how to cook anything."

"Bradley," you groaned, shaking your head at the bag of chips and jar of salsa in his hands. "This is bad. Next time, I'll prepare two dishes so you can pretend you made one."

His heart skipped a beat at the idea of handing you things in his kitchen and watching you make something as nice as the lasagna you were holding. "It's useless," he replied with a frown. "After six months of bringing restaurant style tortilla chips and medium salsa, nobody would believe I cooked anything."

Once again, your laughter had him ready to drop what he was holding and reach for you. He had to ask you out tonight. It had been weeks already since you moved in, and you were definitely giving him a green light. He could think of a dozen different restaurants he wanted to take you to, and maybe you'd like the artsy little movie theater.

But he watched you get swept up in conversation after conversation, and then the opportunity slipped away when you ducked away from everyone to answer a call. You had a concerned look on your face with your phone pressed to your cheek, and then you were rushing out of Mrs. Diaz's house and along her front path before you disappeared from view.

Suddenly it was well into October, and he'd barely seen you at all. There were a few mornings that felt cool enough to coax him to buy some pumpkins for his front porch. He thought about taking one over to your house as an excuse to finally ask you out, but he figured you must be pretty busy right now. Maybe work got a little crazy. He tried not to imagine that someone else had asked you out and that was the reason why you were so scarce.

"Damn," he grunted when he drove his Bronco past your house on his way to get some takeout for dinner on a Saturday night. He just couldn't stop thinking about you. Why didn't he ask you out that first day when he saved you from your dining chair? He ran his hand over his face and groaned, parking in front of the restaurant and yanking his keys from the ignition. If he'd just asked you out that day, maybe he'd be picking up twice as much food and sharing it with you tonight.

A minute later, when he turned to leave the restaurant with his bag, he could not believe his luck. You were walking inside. "Hey."

You glanced up, and for the briefest second, you smiled at him like you always used to. "Bradley." But then your smile started to fade away slowly, and he would do anything to bring it back.

His heart was pounding, and his brain was screaming at him, so he squared his shoulders and did the only thing he could do. "Hey, if you're free tomorrow night, I was thinking maybe you and I could get dinner? Or hit up the movie theater on Pomona? The seats are uncomfortable, but they show some indie stuff which could be fun. Or maybe another night might work?"

The air was silent except for the muffled sound of food being prepared in the kitchen behind him. Your eyes looked so sad as you shook your head and pressed your lips together. "No. No, I'm sorry, Bradley."

Well, fuck.

He backed away from you until he bumped into the wall, and then he focused on getting to the door. "Right," he replied after he had a few more feet between your body and his. "Well, I'll see you around the neighborhood."

For the first time since he moved to California, the air outside was too cold. There was an uncomfortable knot in his stomach as he glanced over at your car. He shivered miserably as he saw the shadow of someone waiting in your passenger seat. Then he drove home and ate alone in his kitchen before going to bed.

---------------------------------

Bradley tried his best not to think about you. One day last week, when he saw your front door swing open, he waited to step down from his porch so you wouldn't have to wave awkwardly to him. And yesterday, for lack of anything better to do, he bought more pumpkins, and he waited in his driveway to unload them until you carried all of your groceries inside your house. 

Today was Halloween, and he spent over an hour carving some of the pumpkins to look like soccer balls before dressing in his usual costume. Handing candy out to the neighborhood kids and trying to guess what they were dressed as sounded like fun. He was determined to have a good night, even if he did have to angle the folding chair on his porch so he was facing slightly away from your house. He would enjoy himself no matter what.

Bradley lit the candles inside his pumpkins and dropped down into the chair with a bowl of candy as the afternoon sky turned dusky. It didn't take long until a toddler dressed as a witch made an appearance with her dad, and Bradley had a good laugh when she reached for three pieces of candy.

"Trick or treat!" shouted three kids dressed as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

"Where's Raphael?" he asked as they collected their candy. 

Leonardo laughed and said, "Nobody wants to be Raphael. He's the lamest one."

"I would have to agree," Bradley replied, about to help himself to a piece of candy as they started to run to the next house.

But then he saw you. And you weren't alone. You were dressed as a soccer player, complete with knee socks and a soccer ball, and you were accompanied by an approximately ten year old kid who looked a lot like you. He was also dressed as a soccer player, and he smiled at Bradley as he said, "Trick or treat."

Bradley stood up, still holding onto the bowl of candy so the child could make his selection while he got a better look at you. "Hey."

"Hi," you replied immediately, looking from his mustache to the whistle around his neck and back up to his visor. "Are you seriously dressed as Ted Lasso?"

"I always dress as Ted Lasso," he told you, and he was rewarded with a smile that made him want to follow you around the neighborhood like a lost puppy. 

"Of course you do," you said, letting your gaze drift toward the child who was currently looking closely at the soccer ball pumpkins while holding onto a Snickers bar. "Somehow you match with us."

The boy looked up at Bradley and asked, "Did you carve these yourself? They look pretty good."

"Yeah," he replied, wishing he actually had taken the time to drop a pumpkin or two off on your porch. "I have perfected the soccer ball technique, kiddo."

The kid nodded but said, "You need to call it a football."

Bradley found himself agreeing. "You're completely right. It's only proper."

When the kid turned back to explore the rest of the pumpkin display a little more, Bradley took a step closer to you. "I didn't know you had a son," he said softly.

Your eyes were alert, scrutinizing his expression as you said, "His name is Max. He's almost ten."

"He looks like you."

You went silent for a few seconds, fiddling with the soccer ball in your hands. When you finally spoke, you were looking at Bradley's feet. "I knew you didn't know about him. I mean, you did ask me out after all." You laughed even though nothing was funny and finally looked up at his face. Then Max started to walk back the way you and he came, and you followed him. 

Bradley called your name. When you turned back, he said, "To be clear, I would have still asked you out if I'd known."

And then you looked so sad again.

------------------------------

To Bradley's amazement, the weather finally cooled to the perfect temperature in November, but he found he didn't want to be outside as much. It was a shame, because if he stood in the middle of his yard and closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was in Virginia. 

One Friday after work, he cleaned the slightly rotten pumpkins from his porch and dragged his trash bin to the curb. Your front door was open, and he paused to see if you or Max happened to walk past it before heading back inside his empty house.

There was another potluck tonight, but he just didn't even feel like going. He had the usual chips and salsa on his kitchen counter, but he had no desire to socialize with the neighbors. He was about to change into gym shorts and surrender to a cold beer and a basketball game on TV when there was a knock on his door.

When he glanced through the front window, he saw that it was you, and his heart seemed to drag him toward the door. He was turning the knob before he thought better of it, and he was met with your wide eyes and a crock pot in your hands.

"Hi. Bradley."

"Hey." He swallowed hard before he said your name, and your lips turned up into a soft smile. "Is that for the potluck?"

"Yeah," you said, reaching out to hand the crock pot to him. "Well, I actually made it for you to take. Max and I will be bringing lasagna again."

Whatever Bradley was holding smelled so good, his stomach started to growl. "I can't take this. Nobody will believe I made it," he murmured, nudging at the lid with his thumb.

"It's a spicy buffalo dip," you replied, smile growing. "I literally made it with chicken from a can. I'm pretty sure you could trick them into thinking it came from your kitchen. You can even take your tortilla chips, too."

His fingers tightened on the handles when you took a small step closer to him. This was agony, being so close to you when he really wanted to touch you, but knew he couldn't. He whispered your name at the same time you looked up at him and started talking. 

"Max isn't my son. He's my nephew. But I'm his legal guardian now." Bradley's lips parted, but you shook your head and quickly added. "The night of the last potluck, I got a phone call that my brother and his wife were in a car accident. They both died before they reached the hospital. I had to pick Max up from soccer practice that night, and he's been with me ever since."

Tears were welling up in your eyes as Bradley tried to shuffle your crock pot to one hand. He knew how badly this kind of thing hurt from his own childhood. "Shit. I'm really sorry the two of you are going through this. But Max is lucky he has you." When you nodded and shrugged, you looked resigned to the way things were. "I'm also pretty sure Max prefers it when you call it football. Not soccer."

You laughed, maybe in spite of yourself, but Bradley still loved how it sounded. You briefly glanced over your shoulder toward your house and swiped at your tears as you said, "He absolutely does. He also keeps asking me about Ted Lasso across the street and his football pumpkins. I told him you're nice."

Bradley's heart had him dragging his feet closer to you, holding onto the warm pot of buffalo chicken dip for dear life. "Is that so?"

You nodded and stared at Bradley's chest for a few seconds before meeting his eyes again. Your lips parted several times before you whispered his name, and he leaned in a bit closer. After a few seconds, he started to step back, but your hand settled lightly on his shoulder, stopping him. Before he could react, you closed the remaining space, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss.

It was over almost as quickly as it started, and Bradley was ready to drop to his knees and beg you for more. But you were rambling now, and he was trying his best to focus. "I wanted you to ask me out so badly. But then everything changed, and I had to tell you no. Max has a lot he still needs to process, and I don't really have time to date someone who just wants to mess around with me."

For the first time in many weeks, Bradley felt lighter than air. He reached out with his free hand and let his knuckles trail gently along your cheek and down to your softly parted lips. "I'm forty years old. I'm kind of over the messing around stage," he promised. And then you were kissing him again.

The three of you walked to Mrs. Diaz's house together that evening. Bradley carried the crock pot, you carried the lasagna, and Max carried the tortilla chips. The conversation was mainly focused on how badly Max wanted to learn how to carve a football pumpkin.

Almost a year later, Bradley was standing in his front yard, smiling at the SOLD sticker placed on a realty sign in front of your house. It made sense to have you and Max move into the white cottage with him, because the porch was bigger. It was the perfect size for an elaborate Halloween display.

----------------------------------

Thanks for reading this angsty yet fuzzy little fic. I hope your Halloween is sweeter than Bradley Bradshaw. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[bekkachaos]

I wish I didn't linger on every thought

8x06 coda | 700 words

Buck goes to Eddie's so he doesn't have to be alone. They don't really talk, but they don't really need to. aka, a continuation of the final scene in 8x06

Eddie didn't get up to turn the music off, in fact he was quite enjoying it. He never really played music around the house and it had been far, far too quiet lately.

As he leant back he turned his head to look curiously at Buck. He looked like someone had dropped him in cold water and put him out on their doorstep. Then there was the way he had already finished his beer when Eddie was only halfway through.

He took another bottle from his six pack and held it up, looking back at Eddie who just shook his head and gestured to his own bottle.

Buck sighed, cracking it open and taking another long swig.

"Slow down there," Eddie said, nudging Buck's knee with his own. "You only brought six."

He smiled like he was prompting Buck to do the same, but he didn't.

"I'm sure you've got one or two in the fridge," he said instead, sullen and monotone.

"Probably," Eddie said, putting his bottle to his lips.

He bobbed his head to the song as it played, taking in a deep breath and resting his head against the back of the couch. He was trying really hard not to feel guilty for taking a moment to feel joy, to do something silly and frivolous just because he could. It felt nice, and he was going to lean into that. He had to.

He turned back to look at Buck, now with his elbows propped on his knees and his fingers peeling at the label on the bottle in his hands.

"You... want to talk about it?" he asked, watching the way Buck's lips tightened as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"No, not really," Buck said in that same listless voice.

He turned his eyes to Eddie, and god they were so sad. Eddie thought that maybe there might have already been tears, or that they were so glassy because he was desperately trying to hold them in. He knew when to push and when to just let him be though.

If Buck wanted to talk then he would (usually it was impossible to get him to stop), but that didn't seem to be what he needed right now.

Buck's eyebrow cocked slightly as he gave Eddie a once over look.

"Do you?" he asked.

Eddie smiled, shaking his head and letting out a low chuckle.

"Nah," he said, taking in a steadying breath. "No I'm um, I'm good."

It might be the first time in a long time that he's said that and actually meant it.

"Good," Buck nodded, turning away from him and back to the disintegrating label at his fingers.

"You want to put a movie on or something?" Eddie offered.

He didn't mind just sitting there with Buck, but he seemed like he could use something to take his mind of whatever seemed to be revolving around in his head, not to mention some company.

"Yeah," he said, lips growing soft in the corners. "That sounds good."

"Any suggestions?" Eddie asked, and Buck turned to look at him.

"Risky Business?" he said, completely straight faced.

Eddie just looked back at him a moment, holding his eyes until he saw just the hint of a sparkle, and his lips pulled up in a smile.

It was a shadow of his usual one, but it was there, it was enough to let Eddie know that he was okay, just hurting.

Eddie let out a laugh and shook his head.

"Alright wise guy," he said fondly, getting to his feet with a groan and reaching for the rest of the beers at Buck's side. "Give me those, I'll put them in the fridge, you just pick something."

He started walking towards the kitchen when he heard Buck's voice call him back.

"Hey Eddie?"

He turned, resting one hand on the wall and looking over at him with eyes that answered his soft question.

"Can I crash here tonight?" he said, eyes crinkling in the corners. "I just... kinda don't want to go back home."

Eddie's smile was warm, feeling. Seeing Buck so in need of comfort left a tugging sensation in his chest.

"Couch is all yours, anytime. You know that."

Buck let out a sharp sigh and Eddie watched just a little bit of relief flood over him.

"Thanks," he said.

Eddie just gave him a nod, watching for a moment as Buck reached for the remote before going to put the beers away, and check that he had enough in the fridge in case Buck needed just a little more.

[curtins]

DITTO — Gojo Satoru a rewrite of this post.

prologue. → brave, lucky, courageous. these are the words that people bestow upon you when the dust has cleared, and the king of curses is no more. you disagree, for if you were lucky, gojo satoru would still be standing at your side. instead you've been left to stare at the ocean shoreline on your own, without your best friend (the love of your life) by your side.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. unfulfilled/unresolved love. angst, hurt, comfort, fluff. your usual shenanigans. sfw! implied, minor satosugu (mb because geto is my beautiful sad princess and i love him so he has to be a part of everything). pining, idiots in love. grief, and what you do after you've lost what you treasure the most etc u get it. reader is from an unnamed clan, has a younger brother. reader also wears skirts, dresses sometimes, character death + injury

word count. 11k! 😭 song inspiration. ditto — newjeans / 뉴진스 (2022) a/n. i wrote rough headcanons and posted them yesterday but i woke up thinking dang i should actually write something better about that lmao. update: i thought i'd finish this in a few hours, why did this take me like 2 days? update #2: dawg this is long as fuck...this kinda depressed me to write CROSSPOSTED ON AO3 <3 💙

mp3. do you think about me now, yeah. all the time...

✉️ — 1995. 💬 — gojo.

these meeting rooms were hushed, grand, and the kind of place that simply swallowed up any sound and echo; where the wood-panelled walls were lined with the tapestries and polished symbols of his clan.

and in the hush, gojo had sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, trying to listen to the conversation of the adults, with their low and steady voices that droned on. this was so boring. they were always speaking of things that he just couldn't understand, but his parents said these meetings were important, and so he was dragged along - much to his eternal chagrin. still, he shifted in place, glancing around at the detailed screens painting around the corners of the room, in varying shades of blue.

across the room, there was another kid. one who sat beside her father, fidgeting just as he was. and gojo could tell by the way that you kept glancing towards the door that you, too, longed to escape. your gaze caught his, and there was that flicker of mutual boredom that sparked between you two. you had scrunched up her nose, as if to say 'this is so boring, isn't it?'

gojo grinned, stifling a giggle. he had leaned back, just a little, surveying the adults who paid no heed to him, before letting himself inch across the rough texture of the mat towards the door.

"do you want to see the garden?" he mouthed silently, his words exaggerated and slow, so you would understand.

your eyes had lit up, and you nodded, just as your father (well, he assumed it was her father) leaned down to whisper something in your ear, his voice a low rumble that was far too quiet for gojo to catch. you were nodding obediently, but your eyes were now fixed with the glimmer of excitement, and he quickly held the door open for you as you scrambled out the door, following him quietly as they creaked down the long hallway.

and soon, they reached the back of the estate, where the garden stretched out like a hidden oasis, filled with the flowering bushes, the winding stone paths, and the pond that glistened in the morning light. suddenly, he stopped by the edge of the pond, brushing pale hair out of his stinging eyes, "i'm satoru, by the way."

you had sat down quickly, as though the long walk had winded her (gojo had barely needed to stop to catch is breath), and your robes dipped into the pond, letting the water seep up slowly, "i've heard of you. my parents say you're an only child."

gojo shrugged, trying to think of something important he could tell you, "it's not so bad. one day, i'm going to be the head of my clan," puffing up his chest a little.

you had nodded, "i would like to be too, but my younger brother would get it. because...you know."

gojo didn't quite know but he nodded like he understood, and he tried to think of something smarter to say, "well the job isn't that fun anyway. it's just sitting around reading papers, and telling people what to do."

you had pouted, frowning, "i want to tell people what to do all day. and i would get the nicest robes too as clan head."

and you had looked so unhappy at the prospect that you were being robbed of a stellar wardrobe that gojo made up his mind, right then and there, "tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?"

your face had lit up, holding your little pinky up to his, "promise?"

gojo linked his finger with hers, sealing this silly vow and laughing, "why not?"

✉️ — 1996. 💬 — you.

when you're seven years old, you’ve resigned yourself to trailing behind gojo, watching as your friend takes on the world with the same reckless, eager energy that he seems to pour into everything that he does.

his voice has picked up a confidence that you haven't felt yet, and there's a permanent, flashy grin on his face that says he doesn't care what anyone thinks about him, not his parents, nor his clan.

and today, gojo's decided that the old shrine on the edge of your family estate needs exploring. you're a little less certain, especially since your father had told you that this shrine was haunted, but you find yourself following the boy anyway, and there's that silent agreement in place: he leads, you follow. you're alright with that, that's just the way it's always been.

he's dressed, as usual, in a loose grey hoodie that's two sizes too big for him, and his jeans have a hole in the knee; some small rebellion against his clan's strict sense of tradition. even his hair is awfully emssy, tousled and getting a little too long, and you know he hates it when his mother tries to comb it down, and you easily suspect that gojo just ruffles it on purpose to get a reaction out of those around him. he probably does everything on purpose for a round of reactions, honestly.

you, on the other hand, have your nicest lilac skirt on, and there's a small bow in your hair that the maidservants had pinned themselves (your mother had been too deep in her cups all morning). but you had fluttered around, feeling quite pretty in your skirt; like you were a fairy that would sprout wings and live in the clouds.

gojo glances back at you, and rolls his eyes, "you know, you look like you're going to one of the clan meetings," he mutters, but there's a playful glint in his eye. he's pulled a twig from the ground, and he's waving it around like a sword, slicing through imaginary enemies as he marches forward like an idiot.

you just shrug, quietly watching him cut through the tall grass ahead, "i like looking nice," you mumble, a little embarrassed. you can feel the careful way the sweet, old servant (she turned seventy last week!) had arranged your hair, and the press of the bow keeping it every lock in place.

"well, if you ever decide to look like you're not on your way to sit for a court painting, let me know," gojo says, smirking (he thinks he's funny) as he waves his 'sword' around, battling on the false frontlines.

but despite yourself, you laugh, and quicken your pace to keep up with him, and so, gojo slows just a bit, enough that you're walking side by side now, and his arm brushes against yours.

"did you know that they say that this shrine is spooked?" he asks, his voice falling to a dramatic whisper.

"i live here, satoru. obviously, duh," and the shrine comes into view, and it's small, weathered with age, but to you, it looks grand and mysterious, even magical, "do you believe it's haunted?"

gojo shrugs, unfazed, "nah, probably just an old rock. but it would be cool if it was. maybe, we'll see a ghost."

now you've taken a hesitant step back, but gojo just grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, and his hand is warm and steady in yours.

"c'mon, don't be a chicken," he teases, laughing as he drags you closer, and you plant your feet firmly in the ground, watching as clouds begin to roll over the sky, ominous and gloomy.

oh, this place is definitely haunted. your father was right, it's so over for you now. a massive, ugly curse is going to pop out and eat you alive, and steal your pretty hair bow. you mutter a small prayer under your breath. gojo satoru, you will pay for this.

✉️ — 2000. 💬 — you.

you'd always heard whispers about yourself from the other kids, how you were too quiet, or you tried far too hard to be perfect — unwilling to roughhouse the way they did. perhaps they were right, and it was true that you preferred to sit alone. you think it was the feeling of order you enjoyed, of a world you could control, even if it was just through lines on a piece of paper.

but today, their voices were louder than usual. a small group had gathered near the cherry blossom tree where you'd settle yourself, and they circled around like hungry wolves sniffing out something they could tear apart.

one girl wrinkled her nose and called you prissy (well, okay) and another boy had snickered and muttered that you were so boring, and it was a wonder that you even had a friend like gojo.

ouch.

their words felt like small, precise cuts, sharper than expected. you had heard these things before. after all, everyone had reached the age where they were aware of their abilities, their techniques as jujutsu sorcerers.

you didn't mind your own technique, making sure to channel time and energy to learn so you could grow up and be as good as your father one day (a well established sorcerer in his own right, if a bit out of shape).

but you didn't have to be very smart to know that gojo's abilities stood out entirely in a different way, and you heard your parents whisper in hushed tones at how lucky his clan was to have a child like that. with the right training and moulding, he could be the most powerful man to walk the earth.

how silly. gojo was all laughs, and smiles, and stupid jokes and bright, clever eyes. you thought it was dumb how they all spoke about an eleven year old boy like he was a weapon, kept in its sheath until it was ready to be drawn.

but of course, all the kids wanted to be friends with him instead. and today, these barbs hurt more — and you kept your eyes down, clutching your books a bit tighter, willing for these supposed 'friends' of yours to go away.

but before you could say anything, you heard his stomps.

"hey!"

gojo's voice was unmistakable, sharp and sudden as he clamoured over, all brashness and bravado. he had gotten a bad haircut recently (entirely his own fault for thinking he could put scissors to his own hair, but you had laughed so hard as he swore curses) so white tufts stuck out all over his head, making him look like he got stuck in a wall socket, even crazier than usual.

but gojo didn't look at you, just planted himself between you and the group, bruised fists clenched (they trained him too hard), and shoulders set, "what's your problem?"

the other kids stammered, clearly surprised, but that didn't stop him, he who looked like a small, lanky and angry polar bear.

"you think you're so funny? talking like that? say it again, and i'll knock your teeth out."

"ah, satoru -" you ran your tongue behind your teeth, the last thing everyone needed was another fight of bruised pride, and yanked hair, rolling around in the dust.

but one of the boys had muttered something under his breath, taking a half-step back. the others followed, shuffling, rolling their eyes and looking anywhere but at you and gojo.

and your best friend didn't move until they had scattered completely, leaving behind only the faint echos of their derision as they fled. and then he turned to you, his scowl fading into something kinder (good, you didn't like seeing him so upset) as he dropped onto the bench, beside you, pulling his knee up onto the bench so he could rest his chin against it casually.

"they're just idiots," he said, rolling his eyes, and his voice was softer, playful again, "don't listen to them."

you gave him a small smile, nodding, as the knot in chest loosened a little, "i wasn't really listening to them," you murmured, even though you probably knew that was a bold-faced lie.

gojo released a loud laugh, much too loud and forced, as he nudged you with his elbow, and he must have known it too, but he was smiling, "good, that's the spirit."

You managed a small smile, nodding, the knot in your chest loosening a little.

the world was quiet again as you both sat in silence, the soft breeze ruffling the grass and the cherry blossoms overhead. and then, with a shyer glance, you managed to look over at your friend, watching as messy tufts of his snowy hair moved ever so slightly in the breeze.

"thanks, 'toru," you said, quietly, but he just shrugged it off, brushing it away as though it was nothing.

"hey, what am i here for?"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — you.

gojo was sprawled across your wide bed, looking at you as if you were the most ridiculous person in the entire world. his own suitcase sat beside him, already paced with the very few things he needed, and now he watched you with that eager, restless gleam in his blue eyes, like he could barely sit still.

"you're so overthinking this," he said, bright voice full of impatience, "just throw some stuff in a bag, and we're good to go. it's just tokyo, not the end of the world."

you scowled at the boy, holding up two sweaters; one sensible in a shade of pale blue, and the other thick, deep red and woollen, "but what if it gets cold? or rains?"

gojo rolled his eyes, throwing his head back dramatically onto your pillow, hands behind his head as he sprawled around like a snooty prince with all the time in the world.

"it's summer, it's tokyo, and it's not like we're moving to america," he smiled, "besides, if you pack any slower, we'll miss our first year."

you tried to brush it off, and something about his easy confidence made you feel a sharp twinge of nerve. this was really happening, you were truly leaving the bounds of your family estates, stepping out into the world, to attend jujutsu tech, a school in tokyo that you had heard so much about. well, there was another school here, in kyoto, but god, it would just be nice to get out of these ancient walls.

and yet -

gojo simply looked like he couldn't wait to shake the dust of his home off his sneakers, you felt something pull at you, like a sudden-appearing string that tied you to your home city, and it wouldn't let you go.

your best friend had caught the look on your face, and softened — just a bit, as he twiddled with a brand new pair of sunglasses, and he sat up closer, watching you carefully, "you're really going to miss it here, aren't you?"

and you shrugged, fidgeting with the sleeves of the red sweater, "i don't know. maybe, i suppose. don't you feel that way at all, satoru?"

he shook his head, resolute, "not even a little," but he saw your uncertainty, "listen, you'll be fine. you'll love tokyo. and hey," he nudged you gently with his knee, "i'll be right there with you anyway."

you appreciated that his confidence felt like a promise, something that you could at least hold onto, even in the big capital, and with a big, exaggerated sigh you tossed both sweaters into the suitcase.

"finally!"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — gojo.

the both of you had arrived, bright-eyed and tired, as he clambered off the tall bus that had parked on the outskirts of tokyo, where jujutsu high was located.

gojo stood beside you, hands stuffed in his denim pockets, plastering a disinterested expression on his face. but he couldn't help how his eyes flittered to the sid,e underneath the dark shades of his glasses, watching you fawn over another new student, another boy who had arrived from some small town, who-knows-where, from a non-sorcerer family.

geto suguru.

well it was no lie that gojo liked him a lot too. there was no denying that he seemed polite, clever, maybe a bit shy. and effortlessly cool.

gojo had grown up in the stifling, grand estates of the big clans, constantly fussed over, and robed in fine silks printed with his clan motifs. all of those stuffy rules would sit, push around and make space in one's head, like a constant mantra from the elders.

he didn't need to look at you too closely to see what was going on, and he could tell right away, just from how you reacted. your smile stretched wider, and your eyes lit up like you were meeting someone who you really wanted to talk to.

geto who hadn't even changed into his uniform yet, with his stray strands of dark hair falling out of the knot on the back of his head, looking politely aloof, but cheerful, in worn black jeans and converse, and some baggy band t-shirt that would get gojo scolded by his mother for even wearing that inside the estate.

gojo noticed everything, especially the way your fingers slipped up to tuck your hair behind your ear when geto grinned at you (all because you’d recognised the band on his t-shirt, so what?) he saw how your eyes brightened, like geto suguru had unlocked some hidden code only you could decipher.

it annoyed him to realise that geto's calm, quiet charm was exactly the kind of thing you’d be drawn to. that’s what you liked, wasn’t it? the understated, thoughtful types who let the world come to them. not the loudmouth who cracked jokes at every opportunity, hoping to pull a laugh from his best friend.

well, fuck, he had to be a part of this too now.

✉️ — 2005. 💬 — both.

gojo's new obsession had a sleek, silver body and an olympus logo stamped on it in black, a camera that he'd been itching to buy; refusing to settle for anything less than the latest model. suddenly, he was determined to capture tokyo through his own eyes, and you and your friends had quickly become his reluctant muses on an impromptu day trip to the ameya-yokocho market.

"stop! stay right there, don't move! fuck, no! a little to the left!"

he waved his hands around, motioning for everyone to gather just as he wanted. you all exchanged amused glances, with shoko huffing around dramatically, as gojo crouched down on his long legs, then stood back up, and then crouched down again, as one of jujutsu high's most powerful sorcerers struggled to bring a camera into focus.

eventually, geto had laughed — raven hair falling over his beautiful face, and had gotten up to help gojo, fiddling with the lens as the rest of you milled around.

and then, suddenly gojo turned the camera directly on you. he pointed his finger your way, wide grin half-hidden but unmistakably earnest, 'c'mon, turn that frown upside down!'

he needn't have said a word, just seeing your best friend there, with his hair tousled and carefree grin, with the camera strap hanging off his neck, was enough to make you laugh, the kind that felt as bright as it sounded.

and so, you found yourself standing in the middle of the bustling market street, surrounded by friends and fellow students, and the lively hum of the weekend crowds, as you looked directly into the lens, with your smile softening under his gaze, as though the rest of the world had blurred into the background.

afterwards, gojo had taken a good look at the photo, and he didn't say much, but the look on his face lingered, almost like he was seeing something that he wasn't sure he was allowed to hold onto. you had shyly asked him later, coming up beside his shoulder, whether he had printed a spare copy of the photo, but he shook his head with the lie rolling off his tongue.

love was a selfish endeavour, to its core. he wasn’t about to tell you that he wanted to keep that photo for himself. and later, when no-one was looking, he slipped the small print into his wallet, right between his train pass and some spare change.

✉️ — 2006. 💬 — you.

your best friend, your dear satoru, had always been resilient; the kind of guy who threw himself at life with reckless energy, shrugging off injuries like they were just a part of the ride. he'd laugh off a scraped knee or a bloodied lip, flashing that cocky grin and a shrug as if pain was something for other people.

life for you went on, with your own routines and small moments. you learnt long ago that you didn't quite possess the natural, raw sheer jujutsu power that gojo had (or geto for that matter) but you could certainly hold your own in a scuffle. regardless, you had chosen to turn to academics, flitting between classes and study sessions, arm in arm with sweet shoko.

there was joy in sneaking off campus with friends, or scrolling through lists of new albums to download onto your mp3 player (you had been partial to the south korean boyband, tvxq!).

and so, life seemed both incredibly mundane and slightly electric, with days marked by shy smiles and inside jokes, with walks home on the streets wet from the spring rain.

but it had been late summer when gojo had returned from that last mission, when the days were still long and hot and the afternoons were bathed in a thick, heavy amber. and he had come back...different.

he moved carefully, as though each step was suspicious and took more effort than he'd let on, and his usual bright glimmer was dimmed, his laughter quiet, and his smiles withheld like a rare currency. he'd sit through the long evenings with you, in silence more often than not, hands stuffed into his wide pockets as he stared at a place that you just couldn't reach.

when you'd catch him alone in the courtyard after class, he'd be training hard, working through his cursed techniques with a relentless focus, perfecting each hand gesture as if he could shake off whatever shadow lingered behind him. and sometimes, he'd stay for hours after school, practicing beneath the dying and dusty light of the last days of summer, as if he could not afford to stop, to rest.

“gojo?” you called, hesitating as he finished a strike to some poor unsuspecting pile of soda cans, leaving them obliterated in the heat. “what's going on with you?”

he paused mid-motion, glancing at you, his face carefully blank. and you hated that, you hated how the flicker of distress would pass from his face before being schooled into that carefully constructed mask of 'the strongest.'

i love you, idiot. i love you, i love you, tell me what's bothering you and i will help, you're my best friend.

but these words never saw the light of day, always curling up and choking up in your throat, and instead being twisted into feigned, casual interest. losing the cloak of deep devotion that you held for a friend of ten years.

"oh - hey! nothing," gojo replied, too quickly, with that half-cocked smile that painted over his pink lips, "nothing that deep."

lately, this repeated lie had been hanging in the air between you, clear as the last streaks of summer sunlight that would soon give way to fall.

you crossed your arms over your uniform, dark fabric crinkling, "you're not fooling anyone, you know. geto told me about the mission, he said that you —," you swallowed, with the words just as heavy as the steadfast beat of your heart that you kept under lock and key, "he said you shouldn't have come back. what does that even mean?"

gojo's face flickered again, just for a second, before he barked out that irritating, false chuckle, "guess it's a good thing you weren't sent on tengen's fuckin' mission then," before reaching out and snatching your strawberry milk carton from your hands with a grin.

after a few punctuated slurps and lip-smacking (just to watch your face redden in fury, gojo would admit) he spoke again, voice strained, "you'd probably be crying about it still."

"hey!" you protested, grabbing for the carton again, prying his slender fingers off your sweet treat, "i don't cry that easily."

"could've fooled me. you cried during that american movie about zoo animals."

"madagascar was a sad movie about displacement and the loss of home! i know animal rights activists hate to see your ass coming to the zoo."

gojo snickered, drawing out the words, "fuck that zebra," but now, he was looking off into the golden haze of a beautiful sunset, with that frayed grin, "seriously, though. it's fine, it's all in the past."

over time, gojo never spoke many a word about what happened to the star plasma vessel, but he just seemed to move forward, like he always had. his resolve somehow sharper, tighter, and his laughter more intense when it finally did return. there were moments when you'd catch him staring into the great expanse of nothing, haunted (but beautiful), though he'd just shrug and smile when you prodded him about.

✉️ — 2007. 💬 — gojo.

gojo thought he was astoundingly self-aware, in his own humble opinion. he never let anything get to him, that was the trick, you see. to take life as it came at you, to carry that fire and stubbornness and throw it back in the face of the trouble.

and so he wanted to be angry, to be furious. why had suguru done this? why?

he had known that geto, one of his dearest friends (one who always been so sure of himself) had fallen into disquiet lately, and even gojo had prodded him on whether he had lost weight through sleepless nights. but suguru would have just turned his head back to his book, lost in thought, with his dark hair loose around his face.

had he been blind? how had suguru's silence been covered by what gojo (privately) considered his own loud, defiant return? no, he knew of ghosts. he knew that some spirits and spectres could not be shaken, and sometimes when gojo himself closed his eyes, he could feel the sharp sting of an assassin's blade ramming through his throat, leaving him for dead.

but to murder over a hundred innocent people...

you had found him alone that evening, where he had sprawled over the stairs as the sunset blazed, painting them aglow in dusky hues. but gojo could barely notice any of this beauty, and so he just stared, lost in his thoughts that wouldn't settle.

(are you the strongest because you're satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you're the strongest?)

he didn't hear you approach, until you placed a gentle hand on his shoulders, causing him to flinch, surprised out of his sorrowful reverie.

the warmth of your touch steadied him, and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and he wondered how you could always seem to know exactly when he needed you most.

but the thought twisted, sharp and bitter, for what if you would follow suguru the same way? had you not often looked at geto with light in your eyes? and you had never looked at him like that.

what if, someday, you left him the same way? what if you turned around and saw someone else worth following? he couldn't help his fists from clenching, tension rippling down his shoulders and painfully gripping his head.

"suguru..." his voice came out quieter than he meant, with a crack that he couldn't quite hide, and he heard you sharply inhale, "i can't believe he's gone. i don't know if...if i'll ever see him again. why would he -?"

you still didn't say anything, just tightening your hand on his shoulder. and satoru hated it. hated that he wanted to lean into the weight of your touch, hated that this is what being the strongest now entailed. that now he was plagued by fear, of losing you, of watching you slip through his fingers into another's orbit.

i'm only seventeen. what happened to my youth?

the thoughts are acidic, cynical and they leave him angry (with the world, with the higher ups, with himself, with his parents) and he can't help himself from blurting out the next question.

"did you like him?"

gojo tries to keep his tone light and casual, but he loathes how he sounds pleading, heavier. he feels the embarrassment of vulnerability shroud him as you meet his eyes, and he hates how your eyes are teary too.

you shouldn't cry. ever.

"like? as in like?"

"as in love," gojo mutters, "shoko said you did."

you sniff, and now your head is leaning on his shoulder and he can inhale the scent of your shampoo (apples? caramel?) and despite the crick in his neck, he lowers his shoulder further down so you are more comfortable.

"shoko talks too much sometimes," you laugh weakly, "but probably. i think i did."

gojo tries to tamper down the acrid lurch in his stomach, but you continue, "i think i did love him. but so did shoko. so did nanami, and haibara back when, -" you sigh, "and so did you. we all loved him. he was our friend."

his fingers had been hovering close to your hand for a while, almost as if he couldn't help himself, the pull. finally, he slid his smallest finger to let it curl around yours, drawing out a memory from over a decade ago.

"tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?" "promise?" "why not?"

how silly that the hardest things in life had once been a bored child, and his new friend who fretted about her future wardrobe.

and when you clasped in hand entirely in its return, gojo's breath caught, his throat tightening. the words that he wanted to say, to spill from his throat, hovered in his mind but there was no infinite word strong enough to bring them out.

he wasn't an idiot, he wasn't daft and unobservant, he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you, to tell you from his lips to yours. but the way his heart laid itself bare in that moment unsettled him deeply, not the yearning itself, but how fierce it was. it disgusted him, the rawness of his desire, exposed right there in the open, where anyone could see it, including you. especially you.

with a realisation that was long coming, beneath the golden wash of the setting sun, he sighed deeply. if he ever lost you, if you ever looked at him with the same betrayal that he'd seen in suguru's eyes, he didn't know if he could survive it. it would cut deeper than his infinity could bear.

he tried speaking again, "if you ever -" but he doesn't get the chance to speak before you're leaning further into him, a quiet sniffle punctuating the silence.

"i won't."

✉️ — the next decade... 💬 — you.

"sweetheart, honey, my precious pumpkin pie."

you shot gojo a death glare, his attempt at flamboyant charm bouncing right off you, "i hate you. never speak to me again."

and your gaze dropped to what was left of your beautiful hermès scarf, once a beautiful concoction of cream-white silk, now reduced to tatters that fluttered pitifully in your hands, stained with some suspicious green goop.

you had cherished this pricey product, but gojo, in his infinite wisdom had decided to pick it up as a perfect blindfold right before a gnarly mission. and so, it got tangled with a nasty curse, and met its tragic, shredded end.

gojo raised his brows, feigning the innocence of a cherub, blinking his long lashes, "i'm sorry, i'll get you a new one, baby."

he drew out the pet name with exaggerated gusto that made you snarl, "enough with the pet names. you are a grown ass man."

and you gave him a first shove in the ribs that made the strongest sorcerer in the world stagger dramatically, only to catch himself with that easy grin still plastered on his face.

but before you could storm off and mourn whatever was left of your one-million yen possession, gojo darted in front of you, blocking your path with his ridiculously long arms. "come on, let me make it up to you, what if i had died on that mission?" he pleaded, looking at you with mock sincerity.

"i wouldn't have even come to the funeral," you sniffed, sticking your nose in the air, ignoring the fake choking sounds that came from the man as he clutched his chest.

months had turned into years, where you and gojo had grown up and graduated jujutsu tech together, carrying triumphs (you won valedictorian, out of a grand total of eight students), losses (gojo was a notoriously bad driver and almost crashed the car that the two of you were in) and countless moments in between.

the two of you had returned to your alma mater as teachers, and mentors, guiding younger sorcerers who were much like you'd once been; eager, impatient, and a little rough around the edges.

gojo took to teaching like he did most things, with his own reckless charm and devil-may-care attitude. he'd joke about skipping staff meetings, but he'd be there anyway, leaning back in his chair with his legs sprawled underneath him, mouthing snarky comments that only you could hear.

you'd like to think you'd grown more confident, no longer the uncertain teenager who used to glance at herself twice in the mirror. time had given you the chance to learn your strengths, and exorcising curses had left you all the more enduring.

gojo had noticed, though he'd never say it outright. he'd make some teasing comment about the way you would boss around a room, and you'd roll your eyes as you nudged him telling him that you had learnt from the biggest ego in tokyo. but sometimes, he'd watch you a little longer than he should, with that flicker in his gaze that he thought you hadn't noticed.

some things hadn't changed at all, and he still came back to you after every mission, every right. you'd hear him shuffling in from down the hall, his paper bags of desserts swinging as he tried to balance it along with his jacket, and whatever ridiculous trinket he'd picked up for you that week (you kept every single one).

and there the two of you would be, sitting cross-legged on your apartment floor, sharing sweets straight out of the boxes. he'd pass you a slice of cheesecake that he insisted that you simply must try, nudging your hand until your fingers enveloped his.

wouldn't it be a lie to claim that you didn't bask in the warmth of your best friend's gaze, even as he feigned interest in some story that he had overhead from the students on his way over from the school, with his low laughter filling the quiet around you.

sometimes, in the silence that would fall after the conversation ebbed, he’d reach over and trace circles absentmindedly on the back of your hand with his thumb, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. neither of you would move or speak. gojo would be looking anywhere but at you, yet his hand wouldn’t let go, tethering you to him in a way that made the apartment feel smaller — almost as if you’d already crossed some line neither of you dared to talk about.

what a pain to be haunted by someone who was already living and breathing right in front of you. sometimes, it left you nauseous, ill, and even screaming into your pillow after he left, and dialing shoko's number so she could give you an earful.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

your car idled at the curb, the sounds of the city filtering in through the barely open window, with the faint chill of the october night brushing against your skin.

gojo looked up from his phone, tapping his fingers on the screen, and there was a sober look on his face that made your stomach twist. you watched as he ran his head through his white hair, and sighed, his eyes still on the screen.

"apparently i was summoned by name," he said quietly, "to shibuya. whatever curtain's been set up is only allowing sorcerers through."

you kept one hand on the wheel, "ijichi reached out to me too, but he wants me covering the perimeter on the other side, away from the metro. but who would summon you by name?"

"i know. do you think it's...?"

"the traitor everyone's guessing about? who else?"

gojo scoffed a little, "fuckin' surprise," he muttered, casting you a glance that spoke volumes of protectiveness, one that made you lurch ever so slightly. his eyes met yours, an unspoken worry passing between you. you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from blurting out the words that lived in the forefront of your mind.

and so, gojo reached for the door handle, and you saw him hesitate as his fingers drummed against the door, before pulling his blindfold up, "well, stay safe, yeah?"

you swallowed, trying to find some false platitude to offer back, "hey, i will if you will."

he gave a short laugh that must have not fully reached his eyes, but it softened the rest of his beautiful face in that way that you loved, "y'know, we could have been going trick-or-treating. dressed like idiots, stuffing our face with candy."

"tweedledee and tweedledum?"

gojo snorted, "next year then."

you hummed, "i'll keep that idea then, tweedledumb."

the bow of his lips quirked, and he looked away again before pushing himself out of the car, stepping out onto the suddenly cold, quiet sidewalk (too quiet, where was everyone?)

he paused, turning back to you through the window, as he lifted his hand up in a small wave, and you could tell he wanted to say something else — but the moment passed, and he closed his mouth, smiling instead in that way of his that said everything without a single word. and he pushed his hands back into his pocket, strolling away as you sat there, suddenly ever so lonely in your silent car, as chills went down your spine.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

"gojo satoru has been sealed."

what the fuck?

the world has slowed down, every sound muffled as if you'd been submerged underwater. shibuya had left gojo sealed in the prison realm by...no. it couldn't be.

suguru geto was dead. dead, executed. had it not been almost a year? you had mourned, gojo had grieved. and yet, the impossible had clawed its way into reality, leaving you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something dark and unknowable.

soon the shock twisted into dread, an icy grip that clenched tight around your chest, left the blood draining from your face. god, your hair must just turn as white as his from the stress alone. your best friend, the one who had been beside you in sickness and health.

it was cruel, you thought, to not even be allowed the time to fall apart, now now. there was little space for it in the chaos that had erupted the next day, when waves of curses crashed through the city like nothing you had ever seen. what fresh hell was this, you wondered as you nursed a nasty set of wounds, trailing after (tormented, sweet, far too young) itadori yuji, and his supposed older brother, some blood manipulation user that had done his fair share of damage throughout the night.

the culling games.

the brutality of it shocked you, and several times during the upcoming days, you had to blink back hot tears as sorcerers were summoned, drafted, and thrown into what was quickly a gladiator spectacle, some devilry concocted from geto's, no, kenjaku's mind. and the stakes were not just your own survival, but the students you had mentored — the young souls who had grown under your watch, and needed you now more than ever.

it quickly cost you an eye. a clash with a fierce, blood-thirsty wayward sorcerer had left you bloody and bruised with a clean gash that ran through your right eye, and you had screamed, taken a life even. only the baritone, dulcet tone of the yuji's half-curse brother (choso? a member of the kamo clan? since when did half-curses even exist?) had pulled you away from launching the contents of your stomach over the pavement, as you stared at the crimson dripping off your hands. were you supposed to be grateful that you had survived this, when so many others had not? yuji's tears had kept you awake in the night, his sobs when he thought that no-one could hear him.

gojo's absence had become a wound, raw, with a side of constant ache that you could feel with every waking heartbeat. and so you tried to fight hard with his voice echoing in your ears, remembering the half-smile he'd flash when you'd land a difficult hit, or the grateful look in his eyes knowing that his students were safe.

days blurred together, and nights bled into ceaseless combat, of the terror of being on the run, and still gojo was with you. the thought of finding him, the thought of him being unsealed from the prison realm almost had you blurting false, desparate promises to the sky that you would tell him exactly what you felt for him, bare your heart out in its entirety for him to hold in his hands.

like it had always been.

✉️ — november, 2018 💬 — you.

it was surreal seeing him again, unsealed and standing there against the burnt umber of the sky, rough around the edges but undeniably gojo. nineteen days of living with the ache of his absence, of waking every morning with a hollow flower blooming in your chest, he was here — alive, breathing, real.

but god, it had been so beautiful to meet his blue gaze once more, and that fleeting smile cross his face before he rushed to pull you into his arms, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms with a new strength that almost lifted you off your feet. and if you closed your eye, you could pretend that nothing had happened, nothing at all. that it was just you pressed against the warm, beating heart in gojo's chest, unrestrained and fierce as thick arms pulled you close, filling your senses with smoke, and earth, and long-spilt blood.

"don't you look eye catching?"

you huffed and leaned away from him, slamming your fist on hard muscle in exasperation, but if you hadn't turned your gaze away, you would have seen gojo's eyes twitch as he took in your battle-worn appearance, the scar that ran underneath bandages where an eye would have once been. if you had paid more attention, you would have heard his intake of breath as he ran his tongue behind his teeth, with a vow, a promise.

"guess who's going to kick sukuna's ass so far back to the heian era," gojo murmured, and you let out a shaky laugh that echoes all the way down to the marrows of your bones.

"yeah, i thought you were just all talk."

"i'm still alive, aren't i?" he shot back, cocky and boyish once more, and your eyes traced over him, drinking in every small change, the sharper clench in his jaw, the tautness in his frame, the way his shoulders seemed broader, like he had been carved up in the prison realm anew. and it leaves you melancholic.

in another universe, the two of you were still young, hand in hand underneath the blue sky as the cool breeze ran through your hair. but battles had turned to war, and the night had no time for what ifs.

"hey, don't go worrying about me," gojo murmured, almost as though he had caught the shadow in your heart, and he plastered a grin on his face, stretching his toned arms in some show of nonchalance, but his gaze lingered on the ruins too long, on the mottled group of assembled sorcerers who seemed to brim with new-found confidence at his return.

and when he finally looked back at you with a new dullness in your eyes, a heaviness you hadn't seen in a long time. it left a dead weight in your chest, but you forced yourself to return his own bland smile, playing along with the front he was trying to maintain, "well, i guess i'll have to keep you out of trouble from now on."

✉️ — november-december, 2018 💬 — you.

the month began to stretch and pass in a blur on the endless horizon, complete with the aching and unbearable waiting where you knew something was going to happen, and yet you did not know when and where. shoko had forgone her own exhausation to see to the rest of the wounds, the ones that had festered under bandages and grimes, leaving faint trails over your skin but she had shaken her head sadly when it came to the socket on your face, even she could not restore an eye.

gojo had swapped his suits and jackets for loose martial pants, and a tight black top that had clung to the muscular frame that he'd honed over the years, laughing off your concerns like they were nothing more than passing clouds.

"don't fret," he'd say, "how bad could this be? you know i told yuji once that even if sukuna was at his full power, i'd still wipe the floor with him. you believe me right?"

you weren't sure if his question was cocky, or a plea, and the fatigue had caused you to snap, "and now, yuji flinches when he hears loud sounds, and he's just another kid who can't fuckin' stop wringing his hands in blood! look what you've done to him!"

gojo's eyes had twitched afterwards, the corner of his mouth pulling down, but he hadn't gotten angry. and you hated it. you hated it all.

but you had wanted to believe in him, in his optimism. you wanted to let his smooth words settle into your bones like the warm comfort they should have been. but how could you feel at ease when everyone was now playing a role? each sorcerer in this building was feigning whatever mask or persona that they had painted and drawn across their face, just as you had. just as gojo did.

but nothing was the same anymore.

and neither were you.

the loss of your eye, the streaks of scars on your skin haunted you. it felt cowardly to say, but this was not the life you should have lived. you simply just didn't see yourself as strong enough, and your eyes watered thinking about the days when you dallied under a clear sky, skirts swaying along the grass as you trailed after your best friend, catching fireflies, exploring shrines, falling to the earth in child-like innocence.

the hollow space on your face, the empty socket served as a reminder of what you had survived, of the world that had fallen into pieces. was there anyone here who would recognise themselves in the mirror anymore?

some nights, the world felt impossibly still, and you would sit at the window and press your hands to the cold of the glass as you watched a scarred city sprawl ahead of you.

you didn't turn at the sound of footsteps at first, and you sat there, with your fingers still dancing on the edge of the window. you closed your eyes as you felt him approach, close, but not enough — you wished he would sit by you, press his soft head to your own, close enough for you to hold him in your hands, curl into his skin.

"satoru, can you make another promise?"

gojo's steps had paused, just a breath but it was enough to know that you had his attention. but when he spoke, "please tell me we're not doing theatrics right now," his voice was laced with that same dismissive edge that he always used when he was trying to push the truth far away.

"can't you shut up, just once? promise me you won't let sukuna kill you, i can't even imagine -" and how irritating, and how melancholic (fuck, this was like a bad soap opera) that your throat was already tightening, your voice wavering with tears that you had been holding back for weeks.

for a moment, gojo didn't respond, and he just stood there and you needn't have turned around to know that there was no trace of laughter nor joy on his face. no easy smirk to deflect the gravity of your well-founded fears. and the silence left you cold.

for the first time, you were suddenly hoping that he might say something blasé, to tell you to stop worrying, to brush it off and just reassure you. but he didn't, he was quiet.

and so you turned to face him, and you felt almost villainous for verbalising your future grief like this, to one who must already have carried such an eternal, heavy burden.

no longer did the blue of his eyes shine like a spring sky, with feather-like clouds that danced in his iris. now, there was only a fractured storm. and god, you loathed that for the first time in what must have been years, his own face was reddening, his eyes suddenly teary, clouds gathering torrential rain.

you knew he hated being seen like this. over a decade of holding him close to your heart had made you privy to his ways, to the way that he'd furiously rub at his face when upset, as if he could will the distress away and hide his tears.

gojo had outstretched his little finger towards you now, hooking it with your own, and your heart stuttered as he brought your finger to his lips, so quick that a ghost may have brushed your skin, with the seal of a promise.

"i will try. god, i swear, i...i promise, i will try." and you knew that gojo satoru was scared, terrified even of what december 24th would bring.

"i -"

you wanted to say it all, wanted to tell him everything. but the words stuck in your throat, love and want and need and ferocious, capricious grief all sat lodged within your beating heart that was so tightly bound in iron chains.

it was a shameful thing. you should have sat there, and comforted him instead. should have told him that it was alright, and you did not know a more powerful and capable sorcerer than he, that he'd leave sukuna in ashes. should have laid your hand on his brow to soothe the lines away from his pale, streaked face.

but you had always been selfish, held onto your heart like a being of folklore, guarded and self-assuming. you wept heart-aching tears, feeling them pool in your sleeves, and run hot salt trails over your lips. maybe it was a testament to how much gojo satoru loved you too, that he could not bear to see you in such grief, and he hesitated.

then he turned to leave you by the window.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

the turn of the year felt cold, far too chilly, even though the night was still young. the city lights twinkled in solitary clumps outside, but they were just as dim as the heavy weight in your chest. the walls seemed to close in as gojo prepared to leave, to face sukuna — the king of curses. and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping through your fingers, something that you would never be able to grasp again, no matter how tightly you gripped.

everyone had wished him luck, calling your their bravest words of encouragement as he walked past them, their voices echoing through the hall, as they slapped him on the back.

they all cheered the same platitudes.

"go fuck sukuna up!"

"language!"

"sorry, choso."

"show him what you're made of!"

"prove that you're not just a pretty face, gojo!"

and so you had plastered the same smile on your face, hoping that it would reach your eyes as gojo winked at you, "hey, before you start telling me off, now it's your turn to promise me something."

you had cocked your head up at him, ignoring shoko's narrowed, tired eyes, "yeah?"

"mhm," satoru nodded, pulling his arms around you, "after this, after all this bullshit, we get to take a vacation."

a barked laugh escaped you, before it collapsed into a giggle, "you want paid leave? that's all it is?"

your best friend's large hands gripped you, flat against your back, "yeah, that's all there is. we're gonna go take a holiday, sit by the beach, watch the ocean. keep it simple."

"a picnic too, eh?"

gojo nodded, humming, "we'll plan everything. about time we got to take a break. i'll be back before you even know it."

you felt his voice hitch against your ear, and your heart twisted painfully in response, he wasn't saying it but you both knew the cold truth, there was a real chance that he may never come back. before your vision could blur, you pressed his lips to his cheek, letting them linger for a moment on smooth skin (and you felt his arms tighten around you) and hoped that whatever you hoped to say, whatever spine you lacked, could be expressed so swiftly.

"come back then, please. i'll be ready." you whispered between his skin and your lips, the tremble leaving no space for air in your lungs.

for a moment, he didn't answer, just held you, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. then, just as you were about to pull away, he spoke, the words falling from his mouth, so familiar and so effortless.

"of course i will. i always do."

there was a flicker of something raw there in his eyes, and you had seen it both before and after shibuya. his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but whatever it was, it never came. instead, he just nodded, a silent promise — unspoken, but felt deep in your bones.

without another word, he turned toward the door. and just before stepping out, he looked back one last time. that smile, that arrogant, confident smile that always made your heart race —i t was there, but it wasn’t the same. it was stretched thin, fragile. his blue eyes were tired, haunted, and for a moment, you saw the truth — the part of him he always kept hidden. the fear. the doubt.

"i'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it didn’t sound like a joke. it sounded like a prayer. a desperate, half-broken promise from the closest thing that the world had to a god.

you couldn’t speak. your heart was lodged in your throat, and the words that you needed to say just wouldn’t come. you wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you always had, that you were scared to lose him, that the world without him in it felt like a hollow echo of what it could be. but you couldn’t.

instead, you just nodded, your face a mask of emotions you couldn’t express.

and then, with one final look, a look that held everything neither of you had the courage to say — he stepped out into the cold, his footsteps fading into the distance.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

gojo satoru was dead.

dead. killed.

for a moment, you stood frozen in the doorway of shoko's office, numbness seeping into your bones with a furious grief as you stared at the cold, unmoving form that was once satoru.

fuck, there was bile in your throat as a once lively boy now lay in four pieces, cleanly sliced by sukuna's unforgiving technique, and the sight was a nightmare made so real, something that you just couldn't reconcile with the man who had once been so vibrantly alive.

the warmth that had always clung to him had vanished, leaving his skin pale in the grasp of rigor mortis, and his lips were still flecked with dried blood that had painted a stark contrast against his stiff skin.

and his eyes, those striking blue eyes that used to glint with love and hope and dreams, were now dull, and still open. you had not the heart to close them, for once your hand pulled his eyelids down, you would never see them again, never look into his eyes until it was your time to pass from the circles of the world.

the last thing you’d seen of him had been that cocky grin, that wink that seemed so unbreakable, that laugh that lingered even as he left your embrace. he’d held you, promised you that he would come back, but now, as you stood there, that promise felt like a cruel lie, something that should’ve warned you but instead gave you nothing but hope.

you choked on a breath, your hand coming up to your mouth as you felt the weight of your unspoken words sink down like lead. i should have told him. you’d wanted to say it all, to let him know how much he meant to you, to tell him that he was your everything. but the words had died in your throat, held back by fear, by the delusion that there’d always be another chance, that he’d always come back.

you’d believed him. you’d believed, with every part of yourself, that he’d make it out alive.

but here he was, torn apart, the last shreds of life stolen from him by the king of curses. you had seen him being cut down, like a sheaf of wheat under a god's sickle, how sudden and gut wrenching it had been, and for the second time in a month, you had been on the edge of hurling onto the stone. but this time, the half-curse beside you, choso, hadn't stopped you from losing the contents of your stomach, as instead he had pressed his younger brother's cries to his broad chest, the grief swallowing the entire room.

gojo hadn’t been given the chance to fight back, hadn’t even been able to draw a breath before he’d been torn apart. and that final thought — that he’d been caught off guard, helpless, alone in his last moments — left you feeling shattered, grief clawing at you with merciless hands.

your knees felt weak as you moved toward him, your trembling fingers reaching out to touch his face, cold and unyielding beneath your hand. you traced the lines of his face, memorising every detail, as if somehow, through touch alone, you could keep a piece of him with you. a tear slipped down your cheek, landing on his lips, lips that had once murmured promises, had brushed against your skin in fleeting, unspoken moments. the tear brought moisture once more to the blood that splattered his face, but quickly, it disappeared, drying and taking away any life.

"i should’ve told you,” you whispered, your voice broken, raw, laced with the pain of regret, "i don't know if you ever knew how much i loved you."

you closed your eyes, the silence thickening around you, pressing down until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. your mind replayed every smile, every laugh, every word he’d ever spoken to you, each memory twisting the knife of grief deeper into your chest. the emptiness of the room swallowed you whole, and all that was left was the aching, unbearable reality that he was gone — that the man who had been your best friend, your confidant, your everything, was nothing more than a memory now.

you stayed there, your hand resting on his cold cheek, as if the warmth of your touch could somehow reach him, bring him back. but he was gone, and with him, he’d taken the words you’d never been able to say, the love you’d never been able to give.

and as the silence closed in around you, suffocating and absolute, you knew that part of you had died with him.

✉️ — not so long later. 💬 — you. it could only be you now, for you are the only one left.

the sun was beginning to set as you reached the shore, casting an amber glow over the ocean. the waves lapped quietly against the sand, as a gentle roll becoming a reminder that the world was still moving, even when the battles were done.

even though everything within you felt like it had come to a standstill. you clutched a folded piece of glossy card, and a box. two things that shoko said she found on him, things that she thought you should keep, she added quietly.

and so, you sat down on the sand, letting the evening wind sweep over you as you gazed out at the endless stretch of water. the ocean had always been something you had dreamed of seeing together, an endless horizon that was wild and untameable, just like gojo satoru had been. but he was gone, gone, and that promise would forever remain unkept.

you opened the folded glossy card, wincing as you tried not to press the faded creases further, brushing over the faded edges. it was dated to the fall of 2005, and you bit your lip as you saw your own image stare back at you. when the world had felt endless, and you had two wide eyes to see it with. there you were, that day in the market, laughing in the photo with your head thrown back sweetly, and you wetly laughed as you saw geto suguru's confused expression in the background, clearly exasperated with gojo's photography skills.

a choked sob escaped you as you traced your smile in the photo, so oblivious to what would come. you’d been so happy then, wrapped in a moment that had felt simple and whole. gojo had teased you relentlessly that day, snapping photos every chance he got, and you’d thought he was just being his usual, silly self. you’d never realised he’d kept this one one, never knew it meant enough for him to carry it all this time.

with a shaking hand, you opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside. fuck.

it was beautiful, impossibly beautiful, as if he’d carefully chosen each detail with you in mind. the diamond glistened in the fading light, flecked with small blue stones that reminded you of his eyes, the eyes that used to light up every time he looked at you. this ring was supposed to be a promise, just as the ones you made when you locked little fingers — a promise he never got the chance to make, a life together that you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.

the first tear fell, splashing onto the sand below, followed by another, and then another, until you were trembling, the grief tearing out of you in waves, raw and unstoppable. you held the ring to your chest, clutching it as if somehow, by holding it close, you could feel him, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his arms around you.

you could almost hear his voice on the wind, that playful edge mixed with tenderness as he called you by one of his ridiculous pet names. sweetheart, honey, my pumpkin pie, followed by your irritated huff telling him to drop those names.

but truly, here was nothing. just the sound of the waves, relentless and indifferent, echoing the hollow ache in your chest.

the what-ifs clawed at you, memories replaying over and over in your mind: moments when you’d almost reached for him, almost whispered the words, almost let your heart break free. but each time, you’d held back, too afraid to disrupt the delicate balance between you, too certain there’d be another day. but now, those moments were gone, scattered like dust in the wind, and the weight of those unsaid words felt unbearable.

you pressed the photograph to your lips, closing your eyes as if you could summon him back, if only for a moment. but when you opened your eyes, all that greeted you was the empty horizon, stretching out into nothingness.

"i love you,” you murmured, voice broken, barely more than a whisper. "i love you. i always loved you."

the words hung in the air, unheard, unanswered. it was too late, too late for confessions, too late for promises. the life you’d wanted with him, the life he’d carried in his pocket with a ring and a photograph, was gone, lost to the cruel twist of fate that had taken him from you.

you stayed there on the sand as the sky darkened, the weight of his absence pressing down on you like a storm. the wind whipped around you, cold and biting, and you shivered, clutching his ring, his memory, as if that alone could keep you grounded.

as night fell, the stars began to appear, dotting the sky with fragile points of light, distant and unreachable. and you sat there, letting the grief wash over you, lost in the silent, aching expanse of the ocean and the memories of a love that would remain forever unspoken, forever unfulfilled.

wasn't love the greatest curse of them all?

[drei-mrssvechii]

cookie time! | andrei svechnikov

join my taglist!

pairing: dad!andrei svechnikov x reader

warnings: mentions of andrei's injury, the canes doing not so well, kids.

word count: 690 words

a/n: ok so i wrote this around last year when svech got injured for playoffs and i'm just posting it now lololol. but anyway! i felt like this was such a cute concept and needed to write it, so here it is! hope you enjoy it, i'm always open to feedback, requests, etc, etc.

“how much time till you can return to skating, dada?” your little girl, sofiya, asked as andrei tucked her into bed.

“that’s quite a long time, sunshine,” he replied. she pouted; there was nothing she loved more than going to games and supporting her daddy in her little svech jersey.

though andrei’s injury kept him off the ice, there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop him from visiting the rink, and sofiya would gladly follow him everywhere—she was such a daddy’s girl, after all.

so you’d still attend some games, but ever since svech was out, losing had become a constant, and frustration was clearly building within the team. especially for andrei, who couldn’t help but feel guilty for not being able to play.

the mood wasn’t the best, but when it came to sofiya, he would always put on a smile. it wasn’t often that they got to spend so much time together, so she loved having him home to attend her tea parties, tuck her into bed, and take her to school. as much as she adored it, though, she knew her dad missed being on the ice, and sofiya didn’t like seeing him hurt and sad. so one morning, just as she heard andrei leaving for therapy, she went downstairs with what she thought was the perfect plan to cheer him up.

you were in the kitchen, tidying up from breakfast. it was still early, so you planned to get a bit more sleep, assuming your little girl wouldn’t be up until later—or so you thought, until you heard her quick footsteps on the stairs.

“morning, love. what are you doing up so early?” you asked, watching as she entered the kitchen and grabbed a stool to stand next to you.

“can we make chocolate chip cookies?” she asked, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

“cookies? it’s too early for those, baby,” you said, though knowing chocolate chip cookies were her all-time favorite.

“i know, mom, but cookies make me happy. i bet they’ll make dada happy, too!” she said, explaining her plan with such conviction that you couldn’t help but smile.

it was so sweet how she was thinking of ways to cheer up her dad. so, you quickly gave in, gathered all the ingredients, and handed her a small apron.

she started by cracking the eggs (with a tiny bit of shell making it into the bowl), then you helped her measure the flour, and sofiya poured in what seemed like way too many chocolate chips. the kitchen turned into a delightful mess: flour dusted the counters, little chocolate fingerprints decorated the cabinets, and sofiya sneaked a few chocolate chips every chance she got.

“daddy’s gonna love this!” she said, her eyes shining with excitement.

but just as the first batch of cookies went into the oven, you heard the door open earlier than expected, and sofiya’s face fell.

“oh no, mom! he’s here too soon. it’s all ruined,” she muttered, disappointed.

andrei stepped into the kitchen, chuckling as he took in the scene—flour everywhere, cookie dough on the counters, and sofiya’s pouty face.

“sunshine, what’s all this?” he asked, his eyes softening as he looked at her.

“i wanted to surprise you,” she murmured. “make you happy like you make me happy.”

his face brightened, and he pulled her into a warm hug. “well, you sure did, kiddo. this is the best surprise i could ask for.”

sofiya smiled brightly, inviting him to join her. together, the three of you continued baking. as andrei helped sofiya clean up the counters, you caught his eye, sharing a warm smile. moments like these were rare but so precious.

as the cookies finished baking, andrei had an idea. “hey, sweetheart, how about we take these cookies to practice and share them with the team?”

sofiya’s eyes lit up in excitement. “yes! they’ll be so happy. i miss uncle jarvy,” she said with a little pout.

“he sure misses you too, baby.”

and with a plate of freshly baked cookies in hand, the three of you headed to the rink, just as morning skate wrapped up.

-

taglist: @sydnikov @cammie1634 @honeygarfield @svechnikov3737 @this-is-ally-and-im-confused @barzyandhughesbaby @tinyhockey @boeswhore @owenpowerstapejob @kailyn-writes @stars-canucks @ssebastianaho @beauvertime @barzyblogbabe @hockey-racing-fubol @1-800-iluvhockey | join here!

[sweetbunpura]

I’m sorry to request this I’m really am but have been reading a lot of this HC and then read post https://www.tumblr.com/sweetbunpura/766516274381586432/im-needing-some-drama-how-about-yuu-and-rollo? And thought I want to know. Rambleshack dorm after Yuu’s death. I’m sorry.

MORE DRAMA BUT WITH PAIN!

The dorm is cold and the lights are off, there are upturned chairs and destroyed items all over the place. Walking up the stairs, Malleus can see scorch marks and claw marks on the railing. The halls are filled with the sound of the crying residents. Passing an open door, there was Honest curled around a crying Gidel, he's trying hard to comfort the child but he's crying as well.

"C-Come on, Gideon. She wouldn't want to see you cry." Honest's ears were pinned flat to his head as he sniffed. "We have to be... have to be... I ain't got it in me, Giddy."

Gidel wails into his brother's shirt as Honest muffles his own sobs.Malleus stared at them with a sad look on his face and with a simple snap of his fingers, put them both to sleep. Following the loud sound of wailing to the open door master dorm room, there was Flamme holding a sobbing Grim whose claws were in his shirt.

"She said she'd be fine!" Grim wails. "She said she'd try not to get involved anymore! She lied! She's a liar!"

The young man doesn't say anything, but his body is shaking as if he's trying to hold everything together. Malleus put Grim to sleep as he slumped in Flamme's arms.

"Are you just going to go around putting everyone to sleep?" Flamme's voice was quiet as his back was facing Malleus. "Did your overblot mean nothing to you? Did her risking her life to save you mean nothing to you?"

He was quiet as he levitated Grim onto the bed and looked at the crying man.

"What? What are you here for?" He hissed. "Have you come to see all of us when we're at our lowest?" Flamme got to his feet. "Or are we the last ones you haven't-"

Malleus wrapped his arms around Flamme and gave a shaky inhale. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

The human was still before his body started to shake with hiccups that soon shifted into sobs. They both fell to the floor, holding one another the same way Yuu had held them. NRC was never going to be the same ever again.

[vtomleni]

I feel really bad for girl Jeri. Call me low on reading comprehension/media literacy or whatever, but like. If she got pregnant young (maybe even teenager) and was hiding it, she wouldn't go for any medical help, nor would boy Jerry... which means that she gave birth without any anesthesia and medical help!! It must've been fucking awful, horrid, painful and overall traumatising experience.

Also, like, the way she starts to sob whether sex and pregnancy mentioned, the way she screams "Stephanie! No!!" when Steph and Pete about to have sex. She warns Steph, not Steph and Pete, she specifically tries to stop the girl from having sex. The way she says "Teen pregnancy is not a joke! [...] You're gonna end up with the child before you're ready! You will have to dropout of school! Your parents will disown you!" and looks dead serious, sad, and...idk worried, rueful, remorseful. And, i think, the most obvious one, "where you will raise the child? In the woods?!" She's clearly projecting onto Steph. Jeri associating sex with pregnancy and pregnancy with da baby and it's murders. It's a chain of associations and literally almost every link is traumatizing to her. She feels responsible for her son's murders (because she does enable him), she is the one to try calling into police, she is the one who doesn't want to lie to child's parents, and she has to be coerced, lied and threatened into cooperation by boy Jerry. She, not surprisingly, got sexual trauma from these events, she even responds to sexual advances of a guy that blackmailing her and degrading her! (I'm not saying that ppl cannot have these kind of kinks without trauma, but it's not talked-about-before-consensual kink here, she's stunned and overwhelmed by discovering bodies, feeling guilty for hiding bodies, feeling horny and feeling guilty and ashamed for feeling horny to truly process and being able to consent to things.)

By the way, the fact that boy Jerry doesn't give shit about her also makes me feel bad for her. Like, he very clearly projecting and tells his own thoughts and feelings when "scolding" Pete, so that means that he feels jealous over, and is sexually attracted to Jeri, but looking at Jerry's actions he doesn't respect or trust Jeri, he threatens and blackmails her, he constantly takes control of the situation and assumes that she will obey him, simply put - he's awful to her. And something i noticed when listening to "Hatchet town" from Npmd on repeat is that there's line when citizens accuse boy Jerry and he LITERALLY says "no! it's girl Jeri! that dirty girl!" and like, that could be written in just for a joke but in character it would render boy Jerry as a fucking traitor and a coward. Not too surprising considering all that he does in abstinence camp, but goddammit, he is despicable.

I'm not saying that what she done is okay or morality right, but i empathise with her, like she literally GAVE BIRTH IN THE GODDAMN WOODS.

[aychama]

L: I told you to leave me alone

R: I know Sir, but I'm your advisor and I (unfortunately) have to supervise you too.

Raymond sighed as he read the papers in his hands while following Leshy.

L: Do you think I need your supervision? I was doing just fine before you arrived. I'll continue to do so. Leave

R: I can't. We still need to go over a lot of things, we're far behind schedule to discuss real matters which is urgent, I need you to sign the agreement of imported goods from Anchor Deep and the people in the neglected villages are revo-

L: Fine! How many!?

R: Pardon?

L: How many papers, Raymond?

Leshy turned to him with a momentarily anger. To him, Raymond was simply, yapping.

R: Uh, about... 1, 2, 3...

He began counting, sounds of the paper coming to Leshy's ear.

R: 86 papers, sir.

L: Well good luck to you with that. Just copy my signature.

R: Wait, me? Sir I can't just decide on the matters of the whole kingdom!

L: Aren't you my "advisor"? That's your thing, to decide.

R: Yes, I give advice! I don't rule over a kingdom!

L: Too bad so damn sad, I don't feel like listening you talk about dumb problems I won't be paying attention to anyway.

Leshy chuckled a bit and walked towards his work room. Raymond followed right behind, a bit panicked by the king's nonchalant decision. Leshy closed the door behind him, Raymond nearly making it inside.

R: You can't just ignore it! I promise it won't take long... Don't you care about your people? They are suffering! They are doing their best but barely surviving with what you let them have! Not only that, you've added taxes when I was gone!

L: My people are doing fine. You're worrying too much for something so lame, Ray. If I'm really that shitty of a king, go on. Fill my "so important" papers. And I thought you were smart enough to think that.

Raymond rubbed his temples after setting the papers aside. He took a deep breath. Leshy just sat one of the comfortable chairs and leaned back.

R: (God, I prefer hell over trying to convince this man child to do anything) It won't be long before everything breaks down to chaos if you continue to neglect your duties, sir.

L: ...

R: Maybe the other crowns were right about you after all...

Leshy immediately got up and turned towards Raymond.

L: What did those old bastards say about me?

R: Just the usual sir.

He smiled. Good thing Leshy was, well, blind.

R: That you were too young and naive to understand how a kingdom works. The red crown even said he was surprised that you haven't got hunted by your people.

L: That... Grim faced cat! You know what!? I rule my kingdom just fine! I'm the best king out there! They wish they were me! I can rule their kingdoms along with mine if I wanted!

R: Yes sir. You could...

L: Read me the damn papers Raymond! I'm gonna finish these papers faster than any of those living corpses!

R: (Works every time)

___________________________

It was night time when they were able to finish all those papers. Raymond had lit a candle long time ago to read better and Leshy seemed to listen.

R: This is the last paper... It's, it's over

L: Finally, for fuck's sake...

The worm yawned and leaned back. Raymond put the papers in order and set aside, before leaning back like his King.

R: Sir your profanity.

L: Ray I'm too tired to care.

R: You're right... I should be too tired to ask.

L: What's the time?

R: The moon is up by a hand. It's too late.

L: You don't say.

The advisor yawned and drank a glass of water. The King on the other hand rubbed where his eyes should be. It was rare but, sometimes, his eyes would bleed again, his wounds so easy to tear open. The cat panicked at the sight, immediately his tiredness vanishing by worry that overtook.

R: You're bleeding!

L: Don't-

Leshy hissed at him when Raymond tried to touch his face so he backed away. Raymond looked at the blood with sadness for his King.

R: Does it... Does it still hurt? Does it hurt bad?

He asked with a shakey voice as he reached for Leshy's face again. Surprisingly, the short tempered king didn't pull back the second time. He leaned to the touch, to the feeling. Raymond's palm got bloodied as he wiped it.

L:Not anymore. Not like the way it used to...

R: It's good... I think. Is it just pitch black..?

L: People assume so. But no. My vision is my thoughts. I can see just, not in the way you'd expect

R: How so? How can you just- See?

The King chuckled at the advisor's weirded out question.

L: I already know what something looks like. I know colors, I know shapes, I know sounds, the materials, the feelings. And, if you know it like I do, it feels like your whole imagination is your sight.

R: That's... Not as bad as I thought

L: You think about going blind?

R: No, heh, of course not... I think about, how hard it must be for you.

L: You think about me? Now that just makes me shy~

R: My King-

Raymond gave a tired and short giggle as he blushed. Even though he hated his job, he didn't hate the worm necessarily.

L: What? Can I not be curious about why you think about me Ray?

R: With all due respect, that's not the point, sir. I work for you, it's natural that I worry for the one I'm working so close with.

L: And somehow I'm someone you must worry for? The levels you bring me down to.

R: You make it sound like everything is just fine! Is there really nothing bad about being blind?

L: There are bad sides of it of course

R: Like what?

Leshy smiled, putting his hands on top of Raymond's.

L: Knowing I'll never actually see you

AU8WUW8UQOAPAAJUDJDAAAAAAAASAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HELLO???? THIS IS SO GOOD?!?!?!?!?! How dare you send me this awsome gift as an anon 😭😭😭 Thank you so much omg I didnt think such a simple drawing would inspire someone to write something like this!

THANK YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️