#lotta shit happened this year so
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME 🎂🎉🎁✨️
today is the day I climbed outta the slime pit!
#lotta shit happened this year so#crossing fingers for a better 2024???#birthday wish is for a ceasefire and gaza freedom#but in the meantime im gonna spend time taking care of my pets#we're all under the same roof again 💕
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ran out of comic ideas so *gestures* take a doodle dump instead
First - Previous - Next - Masterpost
#oh my god tagging stuff for this au is a nightmare#undertale bluebird#martlet#undertale yellow#martlet undertale yellow#martlet uty#undertale au#frisk dreemurr#toriel dreemurr#chara dreemurr#chara: *points at martlet* excuse me who the fuck is this#i wanna escalate the story a bit further but i feel like the goofy vibes are gonna be ruined for a bit after i finally post that comic :/#so i wanna like throw out a few more goofy ones before shit gets real for a bit#cause like a lotta jokes i wanna pull can only happen AFTER i set the scene#and unfortunately setting the scene requires a bit of seriousness(TM)#anyways im very much a momlet fan but only if shes extremely confused and very much Not Ready to be a mom#like girl is a what 21 year old who wanted to be a guard so she could slack off HER ASS AINT MOM MATERIAL#but like its really fucking funny so she gets to be a mom. for my entertainment#born to be fun older cousin forced to be a mother 😔
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i ate a lot today, not as much as other days, but still im disappointed with myself and starting to feel sick. why cant i be good at restriction? god this makes me wanna sh so fucking bad
#tw s3lf harm#i dont even feel sick from eating too much like usual#its like the feeling of food in my stomach is making my throat feel tight and its activating my gag reflex a bit so i feel like im gonna tu#tw 3d shit#tw 3d vent#3d ana#not exactly pro a*a but not anti either.. :/#i want to post more in this community and get mutuals and get help with navigating this whole thing but im scared cause ive seen#so many people have their whole accounts deleted and i think i would actually kms if that happened since ive had my main for like 8 years#and to be clear im very pro recovery#which i know i know conflicts with the whole wanting mutuals to *help* me with an ed and not help me to *not* have an ed#i think everyone deserves to recover and i hope i do but right now is just not fucking it for me#so for not its a whole lotta#male thinpo#slef harm#right and i definitely cant talk about being b p d uncensored or ill get reported cause the b*d community is super toxic but in the way that#slef harm and scars are chillin but eds are actually a real struggle™️ and you should have it in secret like everyone else#not to generalize all pw b*pd obviously many and probably most arent like this#but tumblr is a very concentrated dose of that kinda person and its sad for us pw b*pd that are both kinds of toxic LMAO#i joke of course#anyway yeah pro recovery for sure but not currently in recovery#ana moots#body chex#someone who could help with that maybe idk im also kinda shy so maybe just someone to help me with restrictions and staying accountable#at least for now#also if you sh all the better cause i will wanna talk about that too#also to clarify my earlier statement 'not pro a*a' means i dont think and 3d is a lifestyle and i recognize that im sick#but 'not exactly anti' means im not going to avoid these communities or report people in them for being pro#because thats about as effective as throwing out an addicts stash or hiding sharp objects from a chronic sh'r- theyll still find a way#and probably way easier and faster than you think and theyll feel even more alienated and less inclined to seek help
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And maybe you'll be like "but if you don't trust businesses, how can you trust welfare?"
I fucking don't. My mom trying to get on food stamps fucked me up because a lady I never met without my permission got my SSN from my mom and started editing my files. My heart still races to this very second whenever I think about it, it kinda messed me up bad and I'll never ever ever see any kind of recourse
And I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose my medicaid just cause I inherited some money from my grandpa
And I've never even applied for disability cause it kinda doesn't matter finding out if I'd qualify or not cause of my depression, when the rules are so restrictive I don't know if I've even be allowed to keep my house
I do not fucking trust these things on a personal level. I feel like out of a lot of people I have the most to fear from them cause I'm on the edge of having things work, and that gets you punished
...but I need medicaid in order to have insurance (and when you strip out the finance side of medicaid, I love medicaid... they're honestly incredible insurance... I just... I just... dental is like 90% of why medicaid is so important to me, ever since I found out this state pays for it I've actually been able to do cleanings which is important to me cause I can't always get myself to brush)
And I think things like disability and food stamps are pretty damn important on a personal level, and honestly are also good for the economy cause they get people spending... it's practically a free cash infusion into the economy, cause these are people who need to buy stuff
There's just so much important stuff welfare does that it's worth dealing with government
No, what I want is more accountability so if someone gets my SSN from a 3rd party like my mom they're held to HIPPA styles standards where that's not ok to access my files without my permission (She changed my fucking address and tried to get medicaid to investigate me for fraud! Never even met me)
Like have some accountability there and in every situation
Secondly I want less punitive focused rules. I'd frankly prefer bezos get on disability than smack down some poor sod cause they got $2000 in the bank or cause their friend lets them live with them for free
If there's gonna be a cut off on these programs, it needs to be a solid step above the poverty line, cause... by definition I assume poverty line denotes kinda the minimum expected income people can reasonably live off of, and if you take away benefits people are gonna lose a chunk of money to covering that stuff themself, so you need a buffer before you kick people off
I don't fucking trust the government for a second, I've actively been fucked by them and on a personal level I avoid everything but medicaid and only that cause everything but the money is pleasant to deal with and I kinda need it (honestly if I was rich I'm not even kidding that I'd rather give medicaid like $400 a month than some insurance company, I sincerely like them as insurance)
But I'd trust them a lot more if they were less punitive, less out to hunt me down and gut me cause someone handed me a fiver or cause I started to get on my feet, and if government employees had concrete rules they had to follow that were actually transparent and enforced
Like 90% of my problems with welfare go away if they're held accountable and there's less "catch the welfare cheats" mentality going around
I don't trust the government in the slightest, but sadly there some jobs it kinda has to do, so I'd just rather force it to be an open book where the public can keep an eye on it and if they step out of line there's consequences (sort of like I don't trust most mega corps but happen to sometimes need stuff from them... did you know literally every cell service provider has been illegally selling shit like your location data to random people like bounty hunters, and the FCC just slapped them with a fine that's 0.02% of their yearly incomes and debated even doing that? I even can offer a source on that)
...I don't trust much of any authority cause they constantly fail me and kinda screw me. Don't trust doctors either, but I still gotta go to them, you know? ...they're just... they're real bad at listening... so many systems need systemic change
(You know who I really don't trust is the cops. I could point to so many examples. My uncle doesn't trust cops either, and he's an ex Fire and SWAT paramedic, he worked with them and we still got into a long conversation where he basically tore into them far better than I can)
(I don't trust authority that's not accountable)
#anyway; if I'm a lousy cheat or whatever least they can do is give me a gun so I can solve that problem#shit makes me wish I was canadian so I could take advantage of their sick implementation of assisted suicide#what should be a system that gives people a choice about the quality of their life; and I don't think should be relegated to terminal illne#...there was... think he was dutch; had been burned by his girlfriend all over his body; was in constant pain#and he ended up using assisted suicide in the end cause he was just in constant agony... think that's his choice to make#but of course the canadian system concretely pushes people; mostly the poor and disabled; to kill themselves#not theoretically; as in literally says word for word to them 'you should really kill yourself; just sign here'#it's sick; it truly is#but for any americans that want to dunk on it; I'm telling you we're no better#we have the exact same miserable desperation and people (again; mostly poor and disabled) into despair#only difference is we don't offer assisted suicide#the underlying issues in the US and canada are so damn similar; so much of what's happening ends up being the same#you can't act smug just cause you only make people want to die instead of also offering to help#that's like saying that you're the good guy cause while you did everything you could to drive someone to the brink#get them fired; slash their tires; just cartoon level villain stuff to personally harass this person... at least you won't hand them rope#we have such similar systemic issues to canada; and I am explicitly telling you that like the people in canada that have said#'I can't take it anymore; disability doesn't cover my expenses and I can't get any help... I'm at my wits end so I'm gonna go die'#I'm telling you that I feel that same way; just without any eugenics agency I can call up#I'm really working to get things stable; but it feels like I'm teetering on the edge of falling into permanent failure#and... and I'll actually tell you the amount even though I don't like to mention money... makes me feel guilty#my gramps left me $27k; which sounds like a lot; but I got 20 windows that need redoing (house has a lot of windows)#...if they ended up being 1k each; that's most of the money gone; if they end up being more...#and I got a whole lotta other stuff I've been putting off like plumbing around here; need to replace that faucet#it's an amount of money that helps; but it's an amount of money that isn't gonna last#...that's like a year of bills; and my mom already needs me to pay like $400 to the propane bill since she got behind#I want to use it to... to try and really get my feet on the ground; but it might loose me my insurance... it makes me want to die#and not to be a selfish bastard; but if I could I'd like to try and take and invest a bit to maybe build some passive income#given that... that a job never seems to work out for me cause I fucking suck and cause like... my insomnia has me up at 5:30 am right now#mm tag so i can find things later
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Im sooo happy im on physical therapy again
Toned legs and less pain here i come!
#a while ago i did a year of pt everyday and i looked goooood#its also helping me push past my usual limits and cope with pain#using my muscles distracts from the raging fire in my bones#an i miss working out soooo much#fun fact before being bedridden and house bound i was really athletic!#not so fun fact i completed a triathlon at 18 and it was a really great moment for me but it was too much for my body.#couple weeks after i got tendinitis in my right knee which started my crps#so id say that triathlon caused my crps#no regrets though! i loved doing it and i atill love my life now#and not to romanticize chronic pain#but it really taught me some valuable things because i was forced to look inward#when you literally cannot move you only have one thing to do#think#think for months on end#and when that happens a lotta shit is revealed#when you're abled bodied you have the privilege of distraction#beddridden people don't have that privilege#thus you live in the mind trying to take refuge from the body#and now i know deep truths about myself#anyways yay pt!
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Anybody still around? How y’all doin?
#some of the fandom's been pretty shitty about the ship over the last couple of years#so I kinda lost motivation for a while#because the ship's so small that it feels oddly personal when folks talk shit on these two#besides the fact that my muse up and left and just checks in occasionally#and life's been... really something over the last year and few months#lotta headway with mental and physical health but still feeling stagnant somehow#actually went mostly quiet online for a few months because I just got overwhelmed#idk where i was going with this#just wanted to post and check in - give a little update on my situation and explain what happened with my content
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ohhhh my godddd girls i have got the best gossip for you tonight
i was catching up w the two best friends i have made in the past year, like, easily. i met a lot of people in 2022 but these are the two people i felt very much like i bonded w them as individuals and i feel certain our friendship will last a lot longer. great feeling! we love that. the first is a girl i met in like may 2022 and the other guy i met in november. they already knew each other, vaguely, but i met them completely separate. we were all interconnected by a larger group of people, many of whom i don’t talk to anymore... whatever. these are my two best friends of the past year. is the point.
the woman i’m friends w, i met her in a mostly-male group of friends. we clicked like instantly. i sat next to her while playing games and we had good banter right off the bat and we had some pretty personal conversations, we got to know each other, yadda yadda. friendship-deepening stuff, we love to see it. but there was this guy in the group, he had a thing for me. has? who knows who cares. he used to tease me for looking like a teenager, apparently, in a like. kind of flirtatious thing like he thought of me as a little lolita. i’m going to be 24 in a few months, so i’m not quite jailbait, but like, he is also 11 years older than me... yeahhhhhh.
he really thought for the first few months i knew him that i was flirting w him, apparently. he asked me directly one time in a kind of friendly “i just wanna make sure im not missing social cues” way. and i kept this to myself at first bc i didn’t wanna “start drama” or embarrass anybody but after he ended up having a completely stupid and unrelated falling out w me and my new bestie, i did bring it up w her like “and i think this is another reason this guy doesn’t wanna talk to me anymore.” and she confirmed like, “yeah, i knew he liked you but i didn’t wanna tell you in case it made you uncomfortable.”
but tonight when we got on the topic, she told me. whenever we’d hang out and he was there, apparently this made him jealous. because naturally i’d want to sit w my favorite person in the group, i’d hit it off the most w her. like i certainly was not cold to anybody else, but we’re all allowed to have best friends, right? it’s not exclusionary; we weren’t rejecting anyone else. i would simply sit w her the most and chat and laugh w her the most. other people were invited to join in our revels. in fact we hung out w this particular guy as a trio on several occasions.
i talked about how it was funny that this guy really had the audacity to ask me if i was flirting w him when it was so obvious to me i had another favorite in the room lol. like a pretty constant preference. i made a clear effort to be closer to and spend quality time w this female friend i had. but he still messaged me late one night like “are we flirting” uhmmm....... no brother i felt bad for you if anything because i was worried you might’ve felt like you were third-wheeling. not being flirted w. lol
and my friend was like. “yeah. he even messaged me one time about how i sit w diana too much and he wants to get closer to you so stop being possessive and going off on your own w her.”
?????????
BROTHER YOU KNEW I WAS NOT HITTING ON YOU
#im so confused#what-fucking-ever#tales from diana#the actual reason of the falling out was really more related to some shit he did to my friend than directly to me. but i knew what happened#and he knew i knew and. i didnt talk to him after that lol because i was like why bother? its not me you hurt. go apologize to her......#the male friend i mentioned in the first paragraph. he is also a sweetheart. he's not 11 years older than me & creepy :^)#he's a year and a half younger than me and a sweetheart#im just. im so baffled that this guy wanted my FRIEND to 'lay off' acting like my friend so he could have more chances to hit on me????#yeah im glad i got these two together finally. we had a few drinks and read poetry. & they both read lotta philosophy so they discussed that#it's funny watching two of your best friends get tipsy and discuss camus#and you know what? nobody creepy was there. no 34-year-olds who tease me by telling me i look 16.#also i tried sushi. for the first time in my life. at this japanese-dominican fusion place. both of them were teasing me for never having it#before in my life. i was like listen i never lied to you guys... i told you straight up im a white girl from new hampshire#yeah that was such a great time. i love them both so much
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˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚
♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡
- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]
on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto.
after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.
fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good
he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.
in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.
the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”
the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you.
when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.
the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”
you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”
the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”
you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.
he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.”
you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”
he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”
you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back.
when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in.
but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.
your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs.
“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable.
he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest.
“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.
you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.
“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”
his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin.
you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.
there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you.
when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”
in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?”
he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.
“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]
you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.
you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-
you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door.
but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient.
you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.
toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.
now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.
“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body.
you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait.
“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure.
“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”
“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration.
you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence.
“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now.
you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”
“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils.
“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question.
one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope.
one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think.
but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less.
“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view.
“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.
“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates.
you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.
“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes.
you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.
“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”
you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”
he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”
“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.
“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.
“clearly,” you interject.
“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.
“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer.
“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?
“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest.
“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.
“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.
the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left.
his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”
“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me.
“whatever you want,” he answers instead.
you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.
“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated.
“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”
and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?
“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along.
“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now.
“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”
“and do you?” you ask.
his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.
“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.
“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?”
“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that.
“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.
you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)
“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”
“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want.
“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever.
“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”
“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”
you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it.
“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]
being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee.
like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.
but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.
so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee.
but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee.
yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee.
you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee.
and it works for a while.
but not forever.
three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt.
you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.
“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.
“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.
“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.
“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead.
you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful.
“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”
it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”
“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either.
you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession.
“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.
“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.
“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”
“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”
he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.
“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.
“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.
“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.
“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”
“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too.
he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”
“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too.
“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too.
“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again.
he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.
“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.
he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says.
“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.
“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”
even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips.
he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body.
why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]
you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs.
you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?
he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.
you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat.
when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”
“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act.
he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”
you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”
“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall.
“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.
the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?”
you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”
he nearly comes inside of you right there.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out.
you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure.
but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this.
it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out.
you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.
and then one night you can’t find your keys.
you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen.
when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”
you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”
he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes.
you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”
“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere.
you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”
from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”
“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.
he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”
“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked.
15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?”
your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs.
you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.
“how do you know?” he asks.
“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”
“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.
you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face.
eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.
“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering.
he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”
you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”
it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost.
it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.
in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.
you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs.
you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together.
you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”
you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur.
“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”
“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree.
he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?”
and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.
you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow.
nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]
“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence.
you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump.
nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)
he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask.
he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”
you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”
“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”
“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”
it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not.
now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”
“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement.
he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.
“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”
he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”
you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”
“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before.
“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”
“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile.
he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak.
you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about.
“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”
you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree.
“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response.
“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:
>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby
<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)
>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????
<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!
>> nami <3 >> google tbh.
<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(
>> nami <3 >> goodbye.
<< read << :(
>> nami <3 >> i love you
<< read << :)
you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy.
arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case.
he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”
if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop.
he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word.
by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky.
“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too.
he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are.
“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles.
everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time.
it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you.
when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop.
you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back.
the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety.
“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur.
he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter.
“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates.
sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder.
♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP
ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#toji smut#gojo smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#higuruma x reader#higuruma x reader smut#higuruma smut#nanami x reader smut#jjk x reader smut#actually not really tbh theres no smut in tojis or gojos cant even lie#toriwritesshit
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OMGG I JUST GOT RESULTS WITHOUT BEATING MYSELF UP WITH ROUTINES 😭 + RANT ✨
HEYY LUVS! I JUST WANNA SHARE MY RESULTS I MANIFESTED WITHIN 2-3 DAYS! THIS YEAR'S GONNA BE MY BEST YEAR Y'ALL ✋AND GUESS WHAT I DID? NOTHING. LITERALLY NOTHING. NUH-UH. PERIODT.
⚠ LONG POST AHEAD, SWEARING ⚠
WHAT I MANIFESTED:
🪄 PASSING MY FRESHMAN YEAR WITH HIGH SCORES
🪄 MY FAMILY BOUGHT A NEW APARTMENT WHICH WERE PREPARING TO MOVE IN 3 WEEKS
🪄 ME GETTING INTO THE VOID STATE 😭 AND MANIFESTED CLEAR SKIN! (DAYUM GETTING INTO THE VOID IS DEFO VERY EASY OMGG)
🪄 GETTING LESS ANXIOUS LATELY!
🪄 MY GASTRITIS AND ULCERITIS GETTING CURED
🪄 GETTING MORE COMPLIMENTS IN MY UNI!
🪄 GETTING TALLER! I WENT FROM 5'3" TO 5'7" IN 2 DAYS 😭😭
🪄 GETTING DREAMS OF ME SHIFTING TO MY WR 🥺 (ACTUALLY RESPAWNING LOL, AS THIS THING IS REALLY CONTROVERSIAL IN HERE, PLEASE DON'T GET ME CANCELLED- I'M DOING DEATHLESS RESPAWNING ✋)
🪄 MY MIND IS SURPRISINGLY CALM 😌 THERE'S STILL INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS THO (THOSE ARE ANNOYING ASS BITCHES) BUT I JUST IGNORE EM LIKE I IGNORE PEOPLE AT SCHOOL 🗿
🪄 GOT MANY CONFESSIONS TOO 😭 AND I REJECTED EM ALL, CUS I JUST WANT TO BE SINGLE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE ✋🗿 JK
🪄 GETTING COOL CLOTHES THAT MY MOM DENIED A LOTTA TIMES! (ACTUALLY I'VE ORDERED EM BUT STILL HAVEN'T SHIPPED TO MY ADDRESS YET LOL)
🪄 MY CRUSH BECOMING CLOSE TO ME HEHE 🤭 LIKE SHE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT ME MUCH, BUT LATELY SHE'S BEEN TOO CLOSE TO ME AND ALWAYS WANNA BE WITH ME LOL, 3 DAYS BACK SHE AND I WALKED HOME TOGETHER, WHILE WE GRABBED SOME SNACKS, SPOKE ABT EACH OTHER AND ALL (I FELT LIKE BEING IN A SHOUJO MANGA 😩)
🪄 A NEW PHONE! THAT SAMSUNG GALAXY S22 😩
I MANIFESTED EVERYTHING WITHIN 3 DAYS 😭 I REALLY CAN'T BELIEVE MY EYES, JUST. 3. FUCKING. DAYS. GODDAMMIT.
HOW I DID IT:
JUST FULFILLED IT IN MY IMAGINATION
YEP, YOU HEARD THAT RIGHT. I LIVED IN THE 4D REALITY, I NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT THE 3D AT ALL. OK LEMME BREAK IT DOWN FOR Y'ALL SO JUST PAY ATTENTION FROM HERE ONWARDS.
🪄 SUPPOSE SOMETHING UNDESIRABLE OR UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE HAPPENING IN YOUR 3D. WHO'S THE CAUSE FOR THAT? YOU. 'BUT I DIDN'T IMAGINE OR THINK OF THESE 😭' BABY, YOU'RE THE SOLE CAUSE, EFFECT, AND THE SOLUTION. THERE'S NO OTHER EXPLANATION TO THIS.
🪄 AS WE ALL KNOW, 3D IS A MIRROR. RIGHT? WHATEVER YOU THINK ABOUT, YOUR ASSUMPTIONS, YOUR THOUGHTS, YOUR FEELINGS, YOUR PERSPECTIVE EVERYTHING WILL BE REFLECTED. SO WHY NOT THINK THE WAY YOU WANT SO YOU CAN EXPERIENCE THE SAME? GET IT.
🪄 IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE THE 3D, CHANGE YOUR 4D FIRST. CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE TO HOW YOUR DESIRED SELF WOULD SEE THE WORLD. KEEP DWELLING IN IT. IF THE 3D SHOWS UNFAVORABLE CIRCUMSTANCES, DON'T FUCKING GET TRIGGERED. GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION AND DENY YOUR SENSES.
🪄 EVERYTIME YOU SEE SOMETHING ELSE IN THE 3D, GO 'BRUHH THIS IS MY OLD STORY, I ALREADY HAVE WHAT I WANT, THIS IS JUST FAKE' AND MOVE ON. DISTRACT YOURSELF. CUS THE 3D WORLD WHICH YOU SEE IS AN ILLUSION, IT'S NOT REAL. IT'S YOUR CREATION, WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO CONTROL WHAT YOU CREATED? IT'S ALREADY IN CONTROL. YOU ONLY GOTTA REALISE YOUR GODSELF. YOU ARE THE CREATOR, NOT THE CREATION. STOP FUCKING VICTIMIZING YOURSELF.
🪄 I GET IT THAT MOST OF THE PEOPLE ARE CONFUSED BETWEEN LAW OF ASSUMPTION AND NON DUALISM. EVEN I WAS, BUT SLOWLY I REALISED THAT WE'RE ALL NOTHING. WE'RE JUST LIVING IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. VICTIMIZING OURSELVES IN OUR OWN CREATIONS. IRONIC RIGHT?
🪄 THOSE THOUGHTS, ANXIETY, FEELINGS, EMOTIONS ARE ALL IN YOUR PHYSICAL REALM. YOUR MIND, YOUR BODY, YOUR EGO EVERYTHING IS NO REAL, WE ASSUME IT TO BE. WE'RE ARE SHAPELESS, FORMLESS, WE'RE NOTHING! AND EVERYTHING AT THE SAME TIME. CUS EVERYTHING COMES DOWN TO ONE THING, I AM.
🪄 K Y'ALL MIGHT BE SUPER CONFUSED, WHAT I'M TRYNA INFUSE IN YOUR BRAINS. SO WHAT YOU DO IS, LIVE IN YOUR 4D.HOW? IMAGINATION. NO MATTER WHAT YOU SEE IN YOUR 3D, GO BACK TO YOUR IMAGINATION, AFFIRM OR VISUALISE. ANYTHING IS FINE BTW. JUST STAY IN THE STATE OF WISH FULFILLED.
🪄 STOP RELYING ON METHODS, FUCK THEM. JUST BE. DON'T TRY TO CHANGE SOMETHING WHEN YOU ALREADY HAVE THEM. JUST STOP, SURRENDER, STOP FIGHTING, STOP TRYING SO HARD WHEN YOUR ALREADY IT. SO GO LIVE IN YOUR IMAGINATION, FULLY SURRENDER. DO THINGS WHICH YOU LIKE. GO LIVE YOUR LIFE. TAKE YOUR POWER BACK.
LIKE AREN'T YOU TIRED? TRAPPED IN YOUR OWN CREATIONS? YOU CREATED THEM, YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE WHATEVER. TELL ME HOW LONG ARE YOU GONNA LIVE THIS BULLSHIT LIFE? YOU'RE REALLY GETTING COMFORTABLE BEING UNCOMFORTABLE. SO LISTEN UP, DO WHAT YOU LOVE, AFFIRM, VISUALISE, OR DAYDREAM, ZONE OUT, WHATEVER. ALL I DID WAS DO THIS MEDITATION IN THE MORNING, WENT ABOUT MY DAY WATCHING JUJUTSU KAISEN LMAO. THEN RANDOMLY AFFIRM, LIVED IN MY 4D, NEVER PAYED ANY FUCKING ATTENTION TO MY 3D, CUS I'M GOD. I REALLY LOVE VISUALISING, SO I PUT ON A SONG AND START DAYDREAMING IN MY ROOM SMILING LIKE AN IDIOT. ALSO, I DID SATS BEFORE GOING TO BED. THAT'S IT. THAT'S ALL I DID FOR 3 FUCKING DAYS, AND GOT WHAT EVER I WANT. ALSO I MADE A CUSTOM TAPE TOO (IT'S A GENERAL SELF CONCEPT ONE) I LISTENED TO IT FOR 30 MINS AND JUST WENT ABOUT MY DAY THINKING I HAD WHATEVER I FUCKING DESIRE, CUS IT'S ALL MY CREATIONS AND I HAVE IT ALREADY. THERE'S NOTHING TO GET, IT'S ALREADY IN ME.
LUV YOU, BYE 💋
#non dualism#law of assumption#neville goddard#reality shifting#affirmdaily#dream life#frequency#loa success#manifestations#manifestyourreality#scripting#3roe#self concept#higher self#consciousness#Spotify
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come pick me up.
part one to do you think i have forgotten (about you)
summary: it had always been you and eddie. but one night and a whole lotta unexplored feelings leave you both reeling and you’re not sure if it ever really was you and eddie.
a/n: ermm this is so so long i’m so sorry already LOL i’ve had it in the drafts for so long but i reread it n rlly liked it so i wanna post hehe! side note: there are ZERO pictures of eddie not in that fuckin hellfire shirt D: i can’t have a grown man wearing that now …
loosely based off of the cook/freddie/effy storyline from skins uk if you’ve seen it you’ll know.,,, they’re like in their early twenties n it’s set sometime in the 90s ish tho it’s not rlly mentioned
no use of y/n! smut, 18+. this is more so stevexreader than eddie but they do have a relationship of sorts n it’s a lil’ complicated.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❤︎ ❤︎ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
the sound of a high pitched alarm screaming jolts you awake. still partially in last nights clothes, the grubby feel of makeup on your face. leg slung over eddie’s torso.
you groan, shoving his arm as he’s still very much asleep, ‘shut up,’ grimacing as the noise continues.
he mumbles something, wildly slapping his arm about to turn off the damn thing.
you run a hand over your face, remnants of your black eyeliner on your hand. that horrid taste in your mouth only found after a night of drinking. which seemed to be just about every night at the moment.
‘why’d you set an alarm, you freak?’ rolling over onto your stomach, perched on your elbows, watching as his eyes slowly open, obviously feeling as shit as you did.
‘i have- had class, you freak,’ he grumbles, looking up at you from the pillow, curly hair fanned out around him.
you scoff, ‘like you were gonna go,’ attempting to rub the rest of your mascara off, sure you looked similar to a wild raccoon.
he hums in response, shuffling under the covers to tangle his leg with your yours, ‘you gonna sort this out for me?’ referring to the obvious morning glory tenting the blanket.
‘you gonna ask nicely?’ you respond, snarling at his crudeness.
whatever he was about to say was interrupted with a knock at the door, ‘we’re coming in, you have five seconds to not be naked,’ robin’s voice echoes.
you look up as robin walks into the room, hand over her eyes until steve gives her a small nudge, indicating the coast is clear, ‘oh good-,’ she sniffs, ‘it smells like weed and sex in here, you’re fucking disgusting.’
‘thanks for reminding me,’ eddie leans over, retrieving the half-smoked spliff from last night and lighting the end.
steve’s eyes are firmly on yours, kinda sad and defeated. he had that same look on his face whenever you and eddie were together, which was often.
you’d sort of always had this.. thing with steve. encapsulated by his presence. there was always something unspoken between you and you were never sure if it was because he hated you or not. small glances and touches that seemed to linger just a bit too long.
you’d sorta taken his best friend from him at one point, coming between their friendship suddenly and with no warning.
steve was intrigued by you too. this mystical, unobtainable persona you presented to the world. something he couldn’t crack. just couldn’t quite understand it.
‘we’re getting breakfast, i was going to ask if you wanted to join but i assume that won’t be happening,’ she raises her eyebrows, noticing your severely hungover state.
they liked to party too, just clearly not as much as you and eddie. both of you had no understanding of when to call it a night, egging each other on til the point of no return.
‘i think we’ll give that a miss,’ eddie’s answers for the both of you. steve’s eyes immediately look down, suddenly interesting in the burn marks in eddie’s carpet.
you’d actually met steve first, on the first day of classes in freshmen year. you went over to a sheepish steve, who looked slightly scared, and obviously lost. offering him the directions to his room.
he’d smiled back, introducing himself to you on the way. appreciative of your kindness. you probably wouldn’t have helped if he didn’t look like that, but still, it was nice.
that’s when eddie had bounded over, all hair and denim. loudly taking over your conversation, introducing himself with a smirk, hand already creeping onto your lower back. that’s when steve had nodded towards him and informed you of their already established friendship.
you weren’t really sure when it became you and eddie. well, it wasn’t. not officially. god, you didn’t want official. he was fun to fuck and even better to party with. maybe the fact he dealt had been a factor in solidifying your strange relationship. maybe not.
robin rolls her eyes, ‘right, well you boring fucks can rot in bed all day, suit yourselves,’ ushering steve out of the door, slamming it behind her.
you blink, hating this awful, guilty feeling steve always left in your stomach. you’d tear a guy like him to shreds, maybe it was for the best.
whatever self-wallowing, steve-centric thoughts you had are interrupted when eddie’s arm snakes around your back, pulling you onto him.
‘i still need a little assistance here,’ he grins from beneath you, running his hand down your back, firmly grasping your exposed ass as you clamber on top properly.
you try your damn hardest to push the reflecting image of steve from your mind. though it doesn’t quite work until eddie’s calloused palm softly taps against your cheek, ‘anyone in there?’
you frown, returning the playful slap as you grind mindlessly against him, his fingers digging into the pliant skin of your ass.
‘you can do that again.’
-
eddie hadn’t shut up about his birthday for weeks. you’d all planned to go to the same bar you went to most weekends, except this time everyone had to go and he got to be centre of attention.
he’d been pissing you off all night. obviously far too drunk, jaw clenching from the copious amounts of shit he’d sniffed. hanging from your shoulder, speaking over you and splashing beer down your top as he slurred through his words.
‘i think we’re gonna head home,’ steve speaks up when you exit the bar, eddie already looking for the next place.
‘whaat? you’re fucking boring,’ he pokes a finger into steve’s chest, far too intoxicated, ‘you’re staying out, right?’ he looks over to jonathan, argyle and nancy who also shared an apartment not far from yours.
‘nah man.. it’s late, it’s been fun though,’ jonathan shrugs as nancy finds a taxi to take them home.
‘fuuuck you guys are really ditching me on my birthday? at least you won’t let me down,’ his arm hooks around your shoulder, yanking you into him.
you pull back, which wasn’t particularly hard in his state, ‘get off of me.. can i get a ride with you?’ looking over at steve, his hands cautiously poking out of his pockets.
he nods sheepishly as eddie practically erupts, ‘it’s my fucking birthday, and you fucking losers are going home?’ he’s screeching, throwing his arms around, making a royal scene in the middle of the street.
robin finds a cab willing to take the group of you home, calling you over to the yellow vehicle, ‘eddie let’s just go home, it’s late,’ attempting to coax him into going with you. you’d deal with his shit in the privacy of his bedroom.
he laughs, turning away from you and walking up the dimly lit street, ‘you.. you can get fucked,’ he slurs, disappearing into a nearby bar.
steve stands at the cab door, watching as you frown at eddie’s back. internally deciding whether to give in and follow him or to leave like you’d originally planned.
you let out an exasperated sigh, ‘he can go fuck himself,’ you spit as you slide into the back of the cab. steve follows, shutting the door behind him, flashing you a small cautious look as the cab pulls off.
-
you collapse onto the sofa the second you set foot in the apartment. completely at your wits end with eddie and his the way he spoke to you.
‘i’m going to bed,’ robin announces, slinking into her own room, leaving steve to awkwardly linger in the living room.
you didn’t want to worry about eddie. he was a grown man who could definitely handle his own. besides, why should you when he’d explicitly told you to fuck off?
steve clears his throat before taking the empty seat beside you, ‘he didn’t mean it.. it’s just drunk talking,’ he nods, attempting to reassure you.
it wasn’t as if you were really upset about it all. more so annoyed that you’d let him treat you that way. continually. over and over again.
whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you had started to wear thin. there were only so many times you could put up with his shit before it got tired.
eddie could be a horrible drunk. it wasn’t often but when that version of him came out you’d prefer to be far far from it. he was cruel with his words, venomous as they rolled off his tongue. then you’d get into a screaming match and then either end up hate-fucking or you’d just both never bring it up again.
‘no, he did,’ you sigh, kicking the shoes from your feet with a thud, ‘i don’t care.. really.’
‘right,’ he nods, not totally believing you, ‘y’wanna smoke?’
a small smile creeps onto your face as he reaches for the small black box eddie kept on the table, pulling out a small baggie of weed, something eddie definitely wouldn’t miss. he didn’t even need your reply, beginning to roll up.
-
perhaps you’d smoked a little too much, sputtering on the final toke of your second or third spliff before handing it back to steve. he sits on the other side, an awful lot closer than he’d been originally.
it was quiet, but comfortable. not awkward at all.
‘y’know..’ he speaks up, looking over at you, ‘actually.. nah,’ changing his mind almost immediately.
‘no.. what? what were you gonna say?’ you furrow your brows, vision hazy, the room full of grey smoke.
he sort of chuckles to himself, stubbing the end of the joint out in the glass ashtray before looking at you again, ‘it’s stupid,’ he warns.
‘even better.. tell me,’ you nod, encouraging him to go on.
he pauses for a moment, a tiny smile on his pink lips, ‘i always thought.. well, that you and me were gonna end up together, i thought you liked me for the longest time,’ shaking his head as he looks down.
your heart thuds. a mixture of your high and the unidentifiable emotion coursing through your veins. there was no questions to being with eddie. it was simple, sex and parties. no complicated feelings involved.
but within a second, steve had completely changed everything. a feeling you’d suppressed since your situationship with eddie had started. completely convinced that the odd relationship you had with steve was just because you were banging his best friend.
‘i didn’t.. i didn’t know you felt like that..’ you manage to get out quietly, watching as he slowly stands up, he doesn’t look at you once. too ashamed, embarrassed that he’d just admitted everything to you so easily.
‘well, now you know,’ he says quietly before disappearing into his room.
you linger on the couch for a moment. unsure of what to think of anything he’d just said. whether you should knock on his door and tell him you’d felt the same or just go off to your own room and wait for eddie to crawl in.
it wasn’t as if you felt nothing at all for eddie. you did, of course. but you didn’t love him. not the way you maybe should’ve. not the way you felt about steve, his gentle nature and soft caramel tinted eyes.
you stand from the couch, feet taking control as you walk to his door. a small slither of orange light peaking from underneath. raising your fist to knock but stopping, arguing with yourself. this couldn’t be a good idea.
before you can even convince yourself to knock, the door opens. steve stands on the other side, his own chest heaving as your eyes meet.
‘i-,’ he croaks, but you cut him off with your lips, pulling back just as quickly as you’d moved forwards.
you stare at him for a few moments, swallowing all the courage you’d just worked up.
‘..now you know,’ giving him a meek smile before walking back to your room. you lean back against the door, heart beating a million miles an hour.
-
a repetitive banging sound forces you awake in the morning. hissing as the sounds of an extremely dramatic moan get louder. high-pitched and obviously put on.
it takes a moment for you to realise just where the noise is coming from. eddie’s room backs onto yours. the headboard colliding with the wall at an alarming pace.
you stumble out of bed, throwing on an old dirty sweater and groggily making your way into the living room.
steve sits slumped over the table, looking particularly miserable this morning. despite what had happened last night. you wondered if he’d told robin who sat scowling at the door. steam practically coming out of her ears.
her eyes widen as you appear in the doorway, rubbing the residual sleep from your eyes, eyes flitting between your frame and the wooden door.
‘well shit, i was about to cuss you out,’ she remarks, astonished that you were stood in front of her.
steve’s whole face brightens when he realises you’re stood in front of him and not in the room making those god-awful, oscar worthy noises.
‘if that’s not you.. who the fuck is in there?’ robin gasps, now utterly bemused by the entire situation.
you shrug, choosing the seat opposite steve, making brief eye contact and flashing him a small smile. would he bring up last night? or was it never to be spoken about again?
relief is written all over his face. obviously under the impression that you’d made up with eddie at some point in the night. not once checking that you were in your room.
‘jesus christ i’m gonna kill him,’ robin fumes, sipping on a mug of coffee. her eyes are narrowed, attempting to set the room ablaze with her mind.
‘it won’t last long,’ you add, reaching over to steal a slice of steve’s buttered toast. he lets you, obviously. letting out a soft snort at your joke.
‘nothing is that good,’ robin shakes her head.
the noises quieten, a shrill giggle coming from the hallway as a scantily clad blonde appears in the doorway, closely followed by eddie, sporting a pair of boxers that hid absolutely nothing.
‘that way,’ he groans, guiding the smiling woman away towards the bathroom. his eyes momentarily meeting yours, total venom behind his glare.
robin jumps up, splashing coffee over the floor, ‘don’t you dare think about fucking in my bathroom,’ she warns, chasing after the odd couple.
you can hear an altercation as presumably eddie slams the bathroom door on robin, her fists pounding against the wood, hollering about her new bath mat.
steve glances at you, searching your face for any type of reaction. he doesn't find anything, instead you smile softly as robin re-enters the room, cursing at the bastard freak. she grabs her bag, slinging it onto her shoulder before stomping over to the door.
'i'm going out, let me know when he's done with his weird exhibitionist routine,' slamming the door as she exits, the poorly built walls shaking as she does.
there's a faint sound of running water, obviously coming from the bathroom, closely followed by a series of questionable grunts and groans. you choose to try and block it out, though engaging in conversation with steve at this very moment seemed almost too awkward.
'did you tell robin?' you pipe up, playing with your fingernails as you just about meet his gaze.
'uh.. yeah,' he grimaces slightly, 'i-i just thought.. well i thought that was you this morning, i was.. confused,' apologetic for his blunder.
you nod, 'i don't care.. i just wanna prepare for the inevitable grilling i'm gonna get,' chuckling in an attempt to ease the tension. it works as his lips curl into a small, playing with the discarded crusts on his plate.
the god-awful noises from the bathroom worsen and your eyes are pulled from steve, looking towards the cause. perhaps this was eddie's way of making you jealous. revenge for choosing to go home and not put up with his drunken assholery.
-
you’re sat tracing patterns into the velvet fabric of the sofa, practically shaking as you wait for steve to get back from campus.
he was your friend for fuck sake. why was this so nerve wracking? ask him to hang out, if he says no then so be it. you’ll deal with the awkwardness of your shared kiss alongside eddie’s misguided anger.
he’s later than you’d expected. becoming far too engrossed in the random soap opera on the tv when he does eventually get back. almost forgetting about what you’d got yourself so worked up over.
‘hey,’ waving his fingers as he comes in.
christ, he almost seemed more nervous than you were.
‘hey,’ not wanting to jump down his throat the second he walked in the door, turning the tv off and running your palms down the sofa.
‘spoken to eddie?’ he asks curiously, slinging his bag from his shoulder and slumping down next to you on the couch.
‘nah.. he went out this morning and hasn’t been back,’ you shrug, wishing that he wouldn’t have just bought that prick up.
he nods, looking down at his jeans, finding a loose thread to play with.
‘would yo-,’
‘d’ya wanna-,’
you both start at the same time, stopping to let him continue except he’d done the same thing. sitting in the silence for a brief moment.
you chuckle nervously, ‘sorry, what were you saying?’
‘i was just gonna ask if you wanted to.. maybe do something tonight? if- if you’re not busy,’ shrugging it off, trying his hardest to play it cool.
‘oh,’ laughing softly, the pair of you were like nervy teenagers, comical, ‘i was gonna ask you the same thing.. yeah i’d love to.’
steve grins, transported back to freshman year of high school, trying to find the gall to ask tammy thompson to the fucking movies. it all seemed so childish, innocent, the way you melted around each other.
‘okay.. i’ll get changed, give me five,’ he nods, leaping from the sofa and speeding off to his room.
you bite down onto your bottom lip, trying to contain your smile. kicking yourself for the adolescent excitement it gave you.
-
the bar was packed for a wednesday night, steve shouldering his way through the crowd with you following closely behind. not brave enough to cling onto his hand, wrapping your fingers around his forearm instead.
‘jesus christ,’ he exclaims when he finds a spot just about big enough for you both to stand. you were close. closer than you’d ever been. at least in public.
you hold onto the glass bottle he’d passed you from the bar, ‘d’ya wanna go somewhere else?’
‘what?’ he shouts, the music too loud to hear you properly.
you lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear, the feeling makes your heart pound, ‘you wanna go somewhere else?’
placing his hand on your arm so he could shout back, the mixture of his cologne and beer filling your nose. it was intoxicating, making your head giddy.
‘i’m good if you are,’ wisps of his hair sweeping against your cheek.
you nod, beaming up at him as you take a swig of the harsh beer. the crowd seemingly disappearing from around you as his eyes focus on you, his own smile overcoming his face.
-
okay, perhaps you’d had a little too much to drink. but a little dutch confidence never hurt anyone.
you’re definitely not complaining when you grab his hand on the way out of the bar, quickly intertwining your fingers as he weaves his way to the door. still as packed as when you’d got there.
you giggle as he trips over the step coming into the bar, sending you flying into his back as he regains his balance.
his hand is quick to steady you, resting on your waist. the street light illuminating the gleam of his eyes, slightly glossy from the multiple beers he’d sunk inside.
a drunk student roars past you, snapping you out of the moment, steve’s hand still lingering on your waist. something that would’ve never happened if he were sober.
‘shall we go home?’ you ask, not breaking from his gaze.
he nods, moving his hand to offer it out for you to grab. leading you over to an empty cab, leaning through the front window to talk to the driver.
the drive home is heavy with tension. sitting in silence as steve makes polite conversation with the driver, fingers still wrapped around yours. heart thumping as you near your street.
the apartment dark and silent when you get in, the only light coming from the old fairy lights robin had hung around the room. there’s no hesitation, your hands grabbing his cheeks, smashing your lips to his the second the front door closes.
it takes a moment for him to realise what was happening, hands quickly finding solace on the small of your back when it clicks properly. it’s greedy and desperate, tongue sliding into his mouth, wanting to touch every inch of him.
hands sliding down his chest, grabbing at the fabric, his leg slotting between yours, guiding you backwards. straight into the coffee table with a bang.
you spring apart, eyeing eddie’s room cautiously, saying a silent prayer and hoping he didn’t come out.
steve’s eager to resume, eyes hungry as they flit between eddie’s door and your face.
you pull back completely, taking your lip between your teeth and hooking your finger around his pinky, leading the way to his bedroom. it was the furthest away from eddie’s and made the most sense.
he shuts the door gently, flicking the small bedside lamp on, illuminating the obvious tent in his jeans. your mouth falling open at the sight of it, rubbing your thighs together to try and satiate the growing throbbing.
you’re quick to resume the kiss, moving on him swiftly, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. he collapses backwards onto the bed, your body falling on top of his chest, hands caressing his cheeks.
the next moment you find yourself underneath steve, pressed into the mattress as he holds himself above you. eager hands finding the short hem of your skirt and sliding underneath on the soft skin of your thighs. you had never seen him move with such confidence before, normally a little shy in the way he carried himself.
his finger hooks into the waistband of your lacy panties, tugging them down to your thighs. his growing erection digging into your core with every movement. moaning into his mouth when his finger begins circling your sensitive clit. this had definitely killed any and all assumptions that he was a virgin.
it’s as if he had been waiting for this very moment for his entire life, sliding his fingers between your folds and into your already soaking hole, your mouth falling from his as your head rolls back onto the pillow.
‘oh my god,’ a breathy moan escaping from your lips as his fingers pump in and out, his other hand causing a dip in the pillow next to your head.
his fingers slip out of you and begin to unbuckle his belt, barely getting them down and around his legs before his cock springs up. bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, mouth hung open as your peer down between your bodies.
your shirt is pulled off over your head so quickly you weren’t sure if you had blinked, landing on the floor alongside his with a soft thunk.
you draw your eyes back up to meet his once more, ‘you’re sure?’ he reaffirms, pupils dilated, wetting his lips with his pink tongue.
‘so sure,’ nodding encouragingly underneath him, readjusting your legs to loosely wrap around his torso. you’d never been more sure of anything in your life.
he returns the nod, positioning himself at your sopping entrance and without breaking eye contact he slides in with a sharp intake of breath. you can’t contain the whimper that collects in your throat, the stretch of his cock taking you by surprise. the sting felt good, like he was always supposed to be there between your legs.
he’s still, waiting for your encouragement to move. you give it in the form of a squeeze on the back of his neck, clinging on to the skin as his hips move slowly. low, hungry grunts roll from his lips, the bed frame creaking in time with his thrusts.
‘fuck,’ you breathe out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth acutely aware that eddie was only a few doors away and could definitely hear the happenings in the room. even if you could manage to stifle yourself, the undeniable sounds of skin against skin would expose you.
‘is that- is that good?’ steve mumbles, moving slow but hitting deep, nudging against your soft spot, already hurtling you towards your orgasm.
‘jesus christ.. yes, yes,’ beginning to buck your hips back against him, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach. finger nails leaving crescent moon shapes in his skin as tears prick in your eyes.
steve groans as his heavy balls slap against the back of your thighs, pushing himself fully inside, ‘i’m not.. hmph.. not gonna last long,’ arm beginning to buckle with the weight of him.
you clench around him as your high topples over at his words, burying your face into the pillow next to you. unable to withhold the high pitched wail from leaving your mouth, barely managing to muffle the sound.
his rhythm falters, hips slamming into yours for the last few desperate pumps before he pulls himself out. thick ropes of cum spurting out and onto his hand. and the bed. and your thigh. crying out as his chest heaves above you.
‘holy shit,’ his arm gives way and he ends up next to you on the mattress, panting for air as he reaches for a dirty shirt on the floor, using the first thing he could find to clean off his hand.
you turn your head to face him, a lazy smile on your face as he offers the shirt out to you, mouthing a small sorry.
he throws it to the other side of the room, running a hand over his damp face, ‘i uh.. i last way longer normally,’ bashful and doubting his performance. it was only because it was you.
‘steve,’ you smile, grabbing his blanket to pull over your body, ‘don’t do that,’ seeing the shy boy from once before, you much preferred the steve from earlier.. confident and sure of himself.
‘yeah.. sorry,’ his lips curling into a soft smile, turning his body towards yours, arm snaking out to pull you closer, clammy palm resting on the small of your back.
you giggle quietly in response, settling in to your new position, sharing the blanket with him.
your eyes don’t leave each other’s as he begins to babble about something from the bar, clinging onto your skin as if you were somehow going to slip away.
-
you hadn’t even realised that you’d fallen asleep in steve’s room.
so when eddie comes in unannounced in the early morning, you thank your lucky stars that you’re facing the wall with steve’s body hiding yours. shoving your face into the pillow to hide yourself, hair sprawled around you, helping your case.
‘yo.. bro,’ he whispers, stepping into the room and over a pile of clothes, ‘good night?’ he cocks his eyebrow at steve as he turns around, glaring at the interruption.
‘uh.. yeah yeah,’ steve panics, realising what eddie had walked into and the chaos that’d ensue if he figured it out, his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
‘sounded like it,’ eddie chuckles, shaking his boot to rid it of the discarded shirt on the floor, ‘look, have you got ten bucks? i can give it back tomorrow,’ he bargains, smiling at steve.
‘yeah.. yeah, my wallet’s on the desk,’ steve nods towards the desk, adjusting himself to make sure he was covering you when eddie stomps over to the desk.
ten dollars was a worthy sacrifice to not have to deal with eddie’s temper tantrum in the morning. it wasn’t like he’d never find out. just not now.
‘thanks bro.. i’ll get it back to you tomorrow, hey,’ eddie rubs his stubbly face, ‘d’you know if dickhead’s in? i knocked but, uh.. no answer,’ quite obviously referring to you.
you have to resist the urge to sit up and cuss him out.
‘uhh.. no, no idea sorry,’ steve shakes his head apologetically, lying through his teeth.
‘alright well, have fun,’ wiggling his eyebrows as he exits, closing the door softly.
you exhale when the door clicks shut, though you stay in the same position, not entirely convinced he’s not stood outside the door listening.
‘don’t speak,’ you mouth to steve, who looks wearily at you until the front door closes and you fully turn to face him.
‘jesus christ,’ you breathe, ‘he doesn’t knock?’
‘usually he does.. i bet he wanted to see who was in here,’ his arm twitches, unsure of whether to keep clinging on to your waist or to remove it.
‘i mean,’ you shrug, ‘he’ll found out eventually, right?’ it was inevitable, especially as you were living together.
‘i s’pose.. you don’t care?’ taken aback by your nonchalance towards the situation.
‘not really.. i just don’t think he needs to know, not yet,’ you croak, he had literally just banged another chick practically right in front of you. any guilt you may have felt about the situation had disappeared.
‘yeah,’ he gives you a tired smile, nuzzling his head into the pillow, all soft and sweet.
‘i dunno about you but i’m going back to sleep, until at least lunch,’ your hand running along the curve of his bicep, mere inches away from each other.
he hums in response, his lingering arm pulling your waist closer, eyes drooping as sleep takes over.
-
you’re awoken again by the slam of the front door, robin leaving for work. letting steve know that everyone in the apartment could hear your late night activities.
steve grumbles, complaining about her heavy-handedness. you leer over at the alarm clock, wanting to get out of steve’s room before eddie gets back from work, making sure there were no possible chances of awkward questions this afternoon.
‘shit,’ you hiss, climbing over his still half-asleep body and grabbing whatever t-shirt you could find, pulling it on over your head, ‘eddie’s back in like five.. i’m gonna get out of here now, saves the aggro..,’ slipping into your discarded underwear.
‘right.. good idea,’ he mumbles, one arm folded underneath his pillow as he comes to fully.
you sprint out of there and into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal when eddie strolls through the door, whistling some tune to himself. he glances at you before taking a seat at the cluttered dining table.
you don’t say a word, discarding your plan to sit at the table and instead tucking in to your cereal on the counter, pretending to read some flyer.
‘where were you last night?’ he asks, leaning back on the chair to get a full view of you, ‘i knocked on your door but..’ narrowing his eyes.
‘i was probably fuckin’ asleep,’ shoving another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, making brief eye contact with the man.
he squints, trying to figure out why that shirt was so fucking familiar. was it his? were you wearing his shirt in some weird goading way?
steve emerges from his room, shirtless and running a hand from his messy hair. eddie’s eyes flit between the shirt and steve. cogs slowly turning in his brain.
no. no the shirt wasn’t his.
it was the fucking shirt he’d kicked off of his foot when he’d stormed into steve’s room this morning. same boring design printed on the front.
on you.
from steve’s floor.
the night after steve had, very loudly, had a female friend over.
you’re oblivious, focussing on your bowl of soggy cornflakes as steve clatters around behind you. making his own bowl. neither of you looking at each other, making everything ten times more obvious.
‘you’re fuckin’ joking,’ he loudly proclaims, standing from the table, nearly sending the chair flying backwards.
your head shoots up, confused by what he had seemingly angered himself over now, ‘what?’ eyebrows knitted together as he storms over, mouth hung open in disbelief.
‘you fucked him?’ jabbing his finger at steve, ‘my best friend?’ arms flying around in anger.
you look to steve for some help, eddie positively fuming, his jaw clenched at your lack of an answer. in fact, your reaction, or lack thereof, had only solidified everything.
‘no,’ you eventually croak, ‘i- we-, that wasn’t me,’ stuttering for some excuse, though you know he didn’t buy a word of it.
eddie’s face twists up in a mix of anger and hurt, eyes glossing over as his lips tremble, ‘eddie-,’ steve begins, cut off as eddie storms out of the tiny kitchen, grabbing his wallet from the table and pausing when he opens the front door.
‘you deserve each other,’ he snarls before disappearing, shaking the walls with his violent slam of the door.
you stare at steve in silent disbelief, dropping the spoon into your discarded bowl. you’d predicted his reaction to go something along the lines of that, just not expecting it so soon. hoping to have prepared a solid speech in the meantime.
‘shit.’
‘it’s okay.. h-he was gonna find out eventually.. he’ll calm down,’ steve tries to soothe you, well aware that eddie held onto his anger, let it simmered until it all bubbled over and some poor soul got the brunt of months of rage.
you want to feel bad, feel guilty but when steve’s hand sits on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, it vanishes. his chestnut eyes providing a sense of comfort you’d never felt before.
-
you were used to eddie being out. missing in action for days on end. but by the fourth day of him not coming back to the apartment, the pit in your stomach starts to worsen.
the guilt had caught up to you, as if you were the one who had shoved him out of the door. you had, in a metaphorical sense.
the first few days were, nice. though you felt worse for even feeling that. but, you’d been hanging out with steve more. it was different to before, getting to know his personal quirks, the things that made him tick. something you would’ve brushed off before.
you were friends, sure. you hadn’t really had the opportunity to get to know him like this before. it would’ve felt like some sort of betrayal to eddie. even though in some ways the way it had come about now was much worse.
on the fifth day, you’re sat on the couch with steve. picking the hangnail from your finger, wincing as it started to bleed.
‘d’you think he might’ve gone home?’ you ask, looking up at steve who was spaced out next to you.
they were from the same small town, had started out sharing classes in high school and had since been friends. admittedly growing apart when you’d come into the picture. you’d heard stories from the others about how close they used to be, never apart, according to jonathan.
‘i dunno.. he hates hawkins,’ steve shrugs, seeing the worry spread across your face, ‘but i could call his uncle? see if he’s there?’
you nod, thumb in your mouth trying to pull off more of the sore skin. he gets up to grab his phone, already dialling the number when he comes back into the room.
‘hey! wayne.. it’s steve- yeah yeah, i’m good man.. i was just wondering if eddie was there? oh no, uh- well.. we haven’t heard from him in a few days, y’know what he’s like… sure, thanks man,’ clicking the button and ending the call.
he looks over at you, a pitying look on his face as he shakes his head no.
‘i’m sure he’s alright.. he’s dramatic, you know that,’ he collapses onto the couch, this time closer than before, nudging your elbow with a weak smile.
you were well versed with eddie’s dramatic personality. having dealt with his temper tantrums and storm outs for years now. though, it had never seemed this bad before.
realistically, you knew he was probably crashing on a friend’s sofa. overstaying his welcome and partying too much. he was likely coming down from some insane party as you sat thinking about him.
‘i just.. feel bad,’ you whisper, leaning into steve’s side. his arm reaches around to your shoulder, rubbing softly against your arm.
‘i know..i do too,’ he admits, you and eddie hadn’t been a romantic thing. not even really a thing, if you were being honest. it was sex and partying, getting completely trashed and using each other in an attempt to fill the void inside of you both.
but steve and eddie had been friends for years now. they’d argued over the stupidest shit but never something like a girl. steve had had to genuinely weigh up whether his friendship with eddie was worth losing.
if eddie couldn’t get over it, would steve be able to repress his feelings for you? or would he be fine with losing eddie if it meant that you were together?
when robin gets back from work, she narrows her eyes at the two of you curled up against each other, ‘is this gonna be a regular thing?’
‘would you have a problem with it if it was?’ you ask, watching as she dumps her back and slumps on the empty seat.
‘oh no, i’m just thinking about how much peace and quiet i’ll get if you and eddie aren’t screaming at each other every day,’ kicking her doc martens from her feet and leaning into the cushions.
‘if he comes back,’ you remind her.
she hadn’t really seemed too fazed when he’d stormed out. thankful for no more early morning wake up calls from his wooden bed frame. but you can tell that even she was beginning to feel at least a tiny bit worried.
‘he still not called?’
you shake your head, ‘no one’s seen him, he’s not home.. i guess we’ve just gotta wait til he’s calmed down,’ shrugging, more so trying to convince yourself rather than her.
no matter what, eddie had a special place in your heart. even if it wasn’t love in the romantic sense, there was too much there to disregard that. he was your best friend at one point, how could you?
it’s another five days of fretting and concern before you hear a word from him. your phone rings in the middle of the night and you sit up, feeling along the nightstand for the buzzing plastic. an unrecognised number.
‘hello?’ you speak into the receiver.
steve stirs, waking up at the sound of your voice. admittedly, you’d been sleeping in his bed. sharing kisses and late-night chats about just about everything. it all felt very quick, but just right. like now that’d you’d both realised that you could have this, that anything other than this felt wrong.
‘hi,’ eddie’s voice rings out, recognisable even through the phone.
‘eddie? you’re okay? where are you?’ you babble, steve sits up at the mention of his name.
‘i’m uh- with my dad, i just, listen.. i need you to bring me some shit.. we’re going away and i’ve got nothing with me,’ his voice crackles and you can hear him shift around in the payphone box.
‘what? you’re going where? where are you?’ baffled, unsure if you were still asleep and not understanding him.
‘away, i’m staying in porter.. look, can you do it?’
‘eddie that���s-,’ but you stop yourself, ‘yeah, sure.. when?’
‘tomorrow, i just need some clothes, my watch and my savings.. they’re under my mattress.. tiny box, you’ll see it,’ he rushes, running out of minutes.
‘o-okay, where shall i meet you? i don’t know it well,’ you garble, nodding at steve when he mouths a confused porters?
‘little bar called sam’s.. i’ll be in there, i’ve gotta go, this thing’s running out,’ he sighs, muttering a small, ‘thank you,’ before the line goes dead.
‘he’s at the fucking beach.. wants me to drop some shit for him.. he said he’s with his dad? i-i thought his dad left..?’
‘he did,’ steve looks puzzled, taking the phone from your clutch and looking at the withheld number, trying to figure out if he could call it back, ‘he left years ago..’
-
eddie’s smile falters when he notices that you’d bought steve and robin along. steve dropping your hand the second his eyes meet eddie’s.
‘what the fuck are you doing here?’ the chair scraping the wooden floor as he stands abruptly.
the man you can only assume is his dad looks over, gripping onto the beer bottle, eyes flitting between his son and your trio.
‘eddie.. i asked them to, we wanted to know if you were okay,’ your voice shakes, frowning when he scowls at you. you’ve pissed him off, again.
‘i called you because i trusted you, not him,’ he spits, walking over to where you were stood by the door, ‘where’s my shit?’
‘it’s in the car,’ quickly coming up with a lie, trying to keep him talking for as long as possible, ‘i need to talk to you.. before you.. leave,’ you pout, trying to get him away from his dad.
‘about?’ he hits back harshly, still upset that you’d even dared to bring steve along.
‘about.. everything,’ you exhale shakily, ‘give me five minutes, please.’
he looks back at his dad who checks his watch before shrugging. he couldn’t give a less of a shit as long he got this promised money.
‘fine,’ he says through gritted teeth, storming past a gormless steve and robin and exiting the restaurant.
you glance at steve before following him out, not sure how much longer you could convince him you’d bought everything he’d asked for.
he’s already lighting up a cigarette when you reach the street, perched against the windowsill in days-old clothes. he looked a mess. even worse than his usual gritty self. eye-bags and a sunken face to match.
you breathe out, how do you even start a conversation like this? sorry i fucked your best friend but i actually really like him was probably not the best way to go about it.
‘i’m sorry,’ seemed like the best place to start, ‘it wasn’t fair to you.. what i- we did.. i can’t tell you how shit it makes me feel.. to know that i hurt you.’
he blows the smoke out of his mouth, expressionless, ‘okay.’
is that it? after his great big performance that was all he could say?
‘what?’
‘i said, okay.. what d’you expect me to do? start crying and begging you to love me?’ scoffing as he takes a long draw of the cigarette. his eyes cold, merciless as he glares at you.
‘you ran away.. made everyone worried sick about you.. and all you can say is okay?’
he shrugs, ‘i’m over it.. you’re welcome to each other,’ stubbing the cigarette out on the brick wall, stepping closer to you.
your mouth opens and shuts, flabbergasted by his stinking attitude, ‘shout at me, scream.. fuck- hit me if you want to.. stop pretending like you don’t care.. because i know you eddie munson and i know you do.’
his eyes narrow, intimidating as he towers above, ‘i don’t give a shit, you’re only upset because you want me to.. that’s too bad,’ his adam’s apple bobs, a tell-tale sign that he was lying.
your eyes search his for anything. a glimmer of weakness.
but his eyes are stern, emotionless as his brows thread together.
the door to the bar creaks open and his dad stomps out, muttering to himself, ‘c’mon son, let’s get the fuck out of here,’ replacing eddie’s spot on the windowless ledge and lighting his own cigarette.
he doesn’t break eye contact, ‘i’m gonna take a leak and then i want my shit,’ jaw tense as he barges through the door.
you squeeze your eyes shut, biting onto your bottom lip before cricking your neck. that hadn’t gone exactly to plan. now what the fuck were you gonna do when he realised you hadn’t brought the one thing he’d asked for.
‘i know what women like you do,’ his dad speaks up, taking a long drag on the cigarette, ‘you don’t get to fuck up his life and then happily move on.’
eyes springing open when you realise he’s talking to you, ‘what the fuck did you just say?’
he laughs, a deep belly-laugh, ‘you heard.’
you’d love to smash the smug look from his dirty face. knock his head into the brick wall and drag eddie kicking and screaming back to steve’s cat whether he liked it or not.
‘women like me? the only person who cares enough to drive all the way out to this shithole to save your son? is that what you meant?’ stepping up towards him, as if you were even capable of doing anything.
‘you came to rub it in.. flaunting in with pretty boy there,’ his lips snarl, ‘pathetic really, shouldn’t have bothered.’
eddie comes back out, robin and steve trailing behind, trying to converse with him but being completely blanked, ‘where’s my shit then?’
‘uh.. steve’s car,’ beckoning to where you’d parked somewhere in the distance.
steve flashes you a worried look knowing damn well there was nothing eddie could want in his car. luckily eddie doesn’t pick up on it and instead starts walking in the direction you’d motioned, expecting you all to follow.
‘why’re you in such a hurry?’ you call out from behind, trying desperately to bide time. he was certain to flip his shit the second you reached the car and he figured you’d lied to him.
‘because i want to get the fuck out of here,’ he snaps back, charging on ahead.
you walk in silence to steve’s car, nervously glancing over at steve as eddie and his disgusting pig of a father walk on ahead. steve reaches over and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze though it doesn’t really do much.
eddie’s spots the car first, striding over and peering into the windows, ‘where’s my shit then?’ turning to glare at you with a disgusted look on his face.
your mouth opens and closes, no viable excuse coming to mind, ‘eddie.. i didn’t bring anything-,’ swallowing as you gain some slight confidence, ‘i’m not letting you go with him.’
his dad completely flips, turning to his son, ‘you’re fucking useless, you know that? how the fuck d’you manage to mess this one up?’ practically foaming at the mouth.
‘dad i told her! this isn’t my fault.. we can still go.. i’ll find the cash somewhere,’ his eyes pleading with the estranged man, he had shrunk back into a scared little boy right before your eyes.
his father shoves him away, snarling at his son, ‘you think i actually want to go anywhere with you? my colossal fuck up of a son? you’re dreaming,’ positively fuming.
‘but.. dad,’ he’s almost begging now, regressing back to the night he watched his father walk out on his mom, feeling the heartache all over again.
steve steps up, getting closer to the pair, ‘you should go,’ placing his hand on the man’s arm.
he jerks his arm from steve’s grip, scoffing at you all, ‘don’t bother trying to find me again.. i don’t wanna know,’ poking his sausage finger into eddie’s chest before pulling himself away and trundling off back to the bar you’d met in.
your eyes immediately turn to eddie who was watching the man leave for the second time, tears pricking in his eyes. your chest pangs with hurt, you’d never meant for it to happen like this.
eddie speeds off in the opposite direction and you have to pull on steve’s arm to stop him from going after the boy, ‘he’ll come.. just.. give him a few minutes,’ nodding reassuringly.
steve sighs before turning to face you, ‘okay, you should go anyway.’
‘yeah.’
deciding that it had probably been enough time, you follow eddie’s path and eventually find him perched on a crumbling stoke wall, aggressively wiping his cheeks when he spots you walking over.
you sit in the empty spot next to him, staring down at the grey concrete. not wanting to break the silence and potentially piss him off more.
‘fuck,’ eddie finally breathes, sniffing and wiping his nose on his filthy sleeve. he clearly hadn’t showered in days and you wonder what on earth they could’ve possibly been doing.
‘i’m sorry,’ you croak. you weren’t just sorry for not allowing him to run off with that wretched man but for the fact that you and steve had quite obviously betrayed him.
you hear him swallow and then a rustling from his pocket. looking up to find him with a cigarette hanging onto his lip. he offers the box out to you, as he usually would.
delicately taking one from the pack and placing it in your mouth, waiting patiently for the lighter.
you sit smoking your cigarettes in the calming silence for a few minutes. gazing out at the horizon, the sky awash with all sorts of moody greys. fitting.
‘are you coming home?’ you ask quietly, standing from the wall with your hands shoved in your pockets.
eddie exhales, his eyes closing briefly before he stands, ‘yeah.. yeah let’s go,’ admitting defeat as he lets go of his dad forever, ready to put an end to his reckless escapade.
robin and steve are leaning against his car when you walk back. there had been a silent agreement to not mention it. just get in the car and go.
you sat in the back with eddie, watching as he stares out of the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. you move over into the middle seat, resting your head against his shoulder.
things would be alright.
-
things had been actually sorta alright. eddie had seemingly come to terms with you and steve becoming a thing. at least, if he hadn’t, he’d been keeping it to himself.
you tried to keep things respectable of course, jumping apart when he’d enter the room or going off to your own room and creeping into steve’s when eddie had gone to bed. but he wasn’t stupid. and you knew he wasn’t stupid. it just seemed better than rubbing it in his face.
things were completely different with steve and you’d felt a sense of pressure that hadn’t been present with eddie. steve was soft and kind but you couldn’t be so laidback about everything with him.
when you’d disappear at parties to split a bag with someone, he’d want to know. or when you were upset and stressed out, he’d want to know why, how he could help.
which was fair enough, obviously. it was just different. before, eddie would offer some generic advice and a spliff and be done with it. now, you were expected to actually address your issues head-on, not just bury them with sex and drink.
finals week had been harsh on all of you. the apartment in disarray as you were all working overtime to save your grade and not get kicked out of college.
you’d, perhaps a bit unfairly, taken your stress out on steve. arguing with him about menial shit that you didn’t really care about, just finding any excuse to shout and push him away.
he’d sit there and take it, offering sensible solutions and trying to resolve whatever bullshit you’d made up that day. a stark difference to eddie who would’ve screamed straight back at you.
come friday night, you’d all finished exams, sitting around the table when eddie swanned in, flapping some flyer for a party, going on about how you should all go.
‘we’re finished, free,’ he argued, pleading his case to the three of you.
robin flat-out refused, said she needed to sleep for a solid week and then she’d be ready to party. steve umm’d and ahh’d, settling on staying in but he was down to go out tomorrow.
‘i’ll go,’ you speak up, eyeing eddie from across the table, you hadn’t hung out alone yet. this would be a new feat.
‘alright,’ he shrugs, looking at steve for his permission or straight up denial of you two going alone.
steve just nods, ‘alright, call me if you need anything,’ glancing at you with an assured smile.
he wasn’t worried. not really. you’d shown him plenty of times that you loved him even despite your incessant attempts to push him away. even in the bad arguments, he’d kept his cool and waited for you to come to him, keeping everything on your terms.
you’re nervous though. you and eddie partying together had never been a good idea, egging each other on, getting utterly trashed just because he’d dare you to.
not tonight. you swore to yourself before leaving. pressing a tender kiss on steve’s lips, leaving traces of your sticky lipgloss behind.
-
eddie’s pov
it’s a little after midnight when steve gets a phone call from eddie, asking him to come and pick you up. still waking up as he walks across campus, passing countless drunk students as he finds the thumping party.
you’re incoherent on the couch, steve’s eyebrows raising expectedly as he walks into the room. eddie stood to the side watching as your arms instinctively wrap around steve’s neck. even in your drunken stupor you went straight to steve.
it fucking stings.
he looks on worriedly as steve hoists you from the couch, ‘hey man.. uh, she said some pretty weird things tonight, i dunno.. i don’t think she’s okay,’ recalling your earlier slurred words.
you hadn’t meant to, but you’d spilled everything to eddie. a tequila fuelled rant about how steve was so perfect and how bad you felt that you just weren’t. how you didn’t know how to stop pushing him away, even when you didn’t want to.
steve nods, it wasn’t like he didn’t already know you were on this self-destructive warpath. he just wasn’t sure how to tell you that you didn’t need to do this without sounding like a dick.
your arms lazily flop around his neck, laying your head against his chest as he carried you bridal style through the party and right across campus back to your apartment. eddie trailing behind in silence.
‘thanks.. for calling me,’ steve smiles as he nudges his bedroom door open just as eddie was about to disappear into his own room.
‘course,’ he nods, melancholy as he watches your fingers curl around steve’s jacket, pulling him down onto the bed with you, babbling a chorus of steve’s and love you’s as his door closes.
cursing himself for never being that soft with you. never providing that level of safety.
he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. at some point he hears you tumble out of steve’s room, rushing to the bathroom and subsequently throwing up into the toilet. debating whether to hop out of his own bed and help.
but then the padding of steve’s feet make their way through the hallway, his soft voice helping you brush your teeth and get cleaned up. eddie’s assistance was unnecessary. damn, he wouldn’t have a clue what to even do.
on the occasions that you’d thrown up in the morning, eddie would’ve led in bed and laughed. called you a pussy and waited for you to crawl back to bed in a mood. he wasn’t gentle like steve. that shit came as a second nature to him but to eddie? not a touch of it.
he even hears the soft kiss he gives you on the way back to his room, your appreciative little murmur and the click of his door shutting again. 
and he wants to kick himself. scream and cry and throw a tantrum because in an ideal world, that would’ve been him.
but he can’t blame you, no matter how much he tried. it’s his fault he’s such a colossal fuck up. not yours. not steve’s. his.
he eventually gives up and moves to the couch, not getting much luck at sleeping in his bed. the suns rising when he hears snippets of your hushed conversation.
it didn’t sound angry. or even upset. just barely audible speaking’s about your feelings.
‘i know.. i don’t mean to,’ he can hear, a twinge of sadness in your tone.
‘you don’t need to.. not with me,’ steve mumbles and the blankets rustle, snapping him out of his trance.
he can hear small i love you’s and the sound of lips smacking. but then your muffled breathy moans start and the bile rises in his throat. undeniably he knew what was going on in there, everything being confirmed by the rhythmic creaking of the mattress.
and he knows what you look like. he can see it. feel it. hell, he lived for it at one point
pushes himself from the sofa and straight out of the door. not wanting to hear a second more.
-
you don’t feel as bad as expected in the morning, rough but not as bad as you should be feeling.
robin’s now ready to celebrate, steve agreeing and you almost want to hurl at the mention of going out. eddie sits in silence at the end of the table, he’d been pretty strange this morning and you’d wondered if you said something to upset him last night.
you could vaguely recall the self-pitying spiel you’d forced him to listen to. physically cringing at the fact you’d started crying and wailing about steve to him.
robin suggests having some people over, just a small thing with close friends. maybe if everyone was up for it you could all go out afterwards. that you could agree to.
she rounds the troops, calling the friend you all shared. who all agreed to get there at eight. something small and casual she repeats down the phone.
there’s a few tag-alongs, people you’d met briefly at parties or friends of friends who had been dragged along. so it wasn’t the small gathering you’d pictured with just the gang. but it was okay.
the speaker being turned to max and the living room full of people. everyone in high spirits because finals had finished and were relatively confident that they’d at least scraped a pass.
you edge through the crowd, waking over to steve who was splayed out on the couch, spliff hanging from his fingers. he grins when he sees you, opening his arms.
‘hey pretty girl,’ beckoning for you to climb onto his lap, arms snug around your waist as he passes the spliff to you, still giggling at his pet name.
eddie glowers from behind the couch, huffing before pushing himself up and storming into the kitchen. he hadn’t realised how much he’d already drank, liquor coursing through his veins.
‘watch it,’ someone exclaims when eddie barges into their arm, subsequently spilling his beer onto the boys shirt.
eddie sees red. turning to the boy and snarling as he shoves his chest, sending him to the floor.
‘what the fuck did you say?’ grabbing the boy by the collar before smashing his fist into the side of the poor boys face.
steve hears the commotion, leering over the sofa to see what the fuck was even going on. he shoves you off of his lap, running to go and grab eddie from on top of this boy.
you finally see what everyone had crowded around, watching as eddie’s fist pummels into his now bloody face. only easing when steve grabs onto his arms, gasping for breath as he’s thrown back into reality. realisation setting in about what he’d just down.
people rush to the unconscious boy, somebody screaming to call an ambulance. the music cuts out harshly, silence echoing around the room as you stare at eddie, wide-eyed. terrified.
you’d never seen him like this. so brutal, covered in someone else’s blood. his chest falls and rises, staring back at you with an equally as horrified expression. steve is saying something to him but it’s not registering. a ringing in his ears as the world crashed and burned around him.
the police turn up alongside the ambulance crew. taking statements from whoever hadn’t left and eventually cuffing eddie. muttering about crazy fucking kids and quite forcefully pulling him from the apartment.
his eyes lingering on yours as he’s guided out. steve’s arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. you’re still in disbelief, tears welling in your eyes as you remember how unforgiving and downright cruel he’d been.
‘you wanna go to bed?’ steve asks, chest vibrating with his low voice. fingers combing through your hair, in your own corner of the living room as robin and nancy attempt to clean the floor.
jonathan and argyle are picking up tiny shards of glass, not an ounce of conversation between them. all still reeling from eddie’s outburst. you were sure he was going to jail, there wasn’t any way he could possibly wriggle out of this one.
‘we should-,’ the words getting caught in your throat, ‘we need to help clean,’ pulling back to look at the state of the room, discarded cups and splatters of alcohol on the walls.
‘we’re nearly done.. you should go to bed,’ robin nods, wringing the cloth out into the sink.
even they had come to the conclusion that this was something to do with you. you and steve in particular. the way eddie’s eyes had locked onto you the second steve had pulled him off of the boy.
you knew it. he’d been frosty and unusual with you all morning. with everyone in fact.
-
eddie emerges from his room for the first time in days. looking worse for wear and feeling just as shit. the tag on his ankle restricting him from leaving the apartment freely.
he peers down at the blinking red light, mentally cursing the plastic as he drags his feet along the carpet. he can hear you and steve chatting quietly, not really able to make out what was being said.
not expecting you both to be sprawled out on the couch, your leg draped over his waist as your delicate fingers combed through his hair. the last few days had been so bleak, that he couldn’t really find it in himself to hate that you were sharing these moments with steve.
he sighs loudly, hoping to let you know he’d entered the room. not wanted to be involuntarily including in whatever may have happened next.
you sit up slightly, gazing at him stood behind the kitchen counter, ‘hey,’ it’s quiet, but he hears it. almost deciding to ignore until he remembers how much you’d doted on him and helped him recently.
‘hi,’ but he doesn’t look back, staring into the empty fridge, waiting for something to materialise. but it doesn’t.
‘when’s your court date?’
the words sear in his ear, an unwelcome subject.
‘next tuesday,’ deciding upon a swig of milk straight from the carton, not exactly the five-course meal he was hoping for.
‘okay well, we were.. we’re gonna come, y’know.. for support,’ your eyes are unrelenting, following him around the kitchen.
‘don’t bother, i’m pleading innocent,’ completely monotonous in his response.
he’d already argued with the state provided lawyer about this. a shoddy man who could not care less whether eddie went down or not, just wanting to cash his cheque at the end of it all.
the balding man had called him stupid, ‘there are multiple witnesses.. plead guilty and they’ll probably pity you n’ slap you with some community service or summit.. don’t be stupid son.’
you scoff, using steve’s chest as leverage as you sit up properly, ‘you’re joking? right?’
his eyes finally meet yours, thumping his fists on the marble counter, ‘i am innocent,’ no one could understand where he was coming from, not even the man who was being paid to at least pretend to care and understand.
‘you beat the shit out of him, eddie.. you broke his fucking jaw,’ your eyes are wide, looking at him like he’s an idiot- which he was, but not about this.
‘i was provoked, self defence,’ he says in all serious. he was frustrated, lashed out but at the end of it all, the guy had bashed him first.
‘wh- because he accidentally knocked into you? you really must be fucking stupid.. what are you thinking?’
eddie notices steve, or what he could see of him, tense up, obviously not wanting to anger the violent monster eddie had become in so many people’s eyes.
‘it’s my choice.. i was fucking provoked, saw some stupid shit.. that’s not my fault,’ relinquishing the blame to you.
in his eyes, if he hadn’t seen the disgusting display of affection, he probably wouldn’t have fucked up that boy. but he had, and that wasn’t his fault. so how was he guilty?
‘you’re ridiculous.. i actually can’t believe you,’ your eyes full of disappointment.
the way your face falls, eyes narrowed and sharp as knives makes his heart twist. genuine hurt flashed on your face. almost paralleling the horrified expression you’d held as he was cuffed and dragged away.
‘it’s my decision, i wouldn’t expect you to know a thing about what it’s like to be me,’ kicking the fridge door closed with a loud thump.
you disappear from his sight, flopping back down onto steve’s chest with an exasperated sigh. he rolls his eyes before stomping off into his bedroom. his mood probably wouldn’t be so terrible if he could just leave this godforsaken apartment.
actually, why shouldn’t he? if you were so certain that he was going to jail anyway, what harm was there in going out? fuck it.
so he gets dressed, pulling his denim jacket on and spritzing himself with aftershave. he’d worry about the tag later, surely one of his buddies would have something to hack it off with. hopefully with minimal damage to his leg.
you don’t even look up from steve’s eyes when he comes back out, having had enough of his idiotic attitude for the day.
‘woah, where are you go-,’ steve starts before being cut off with the front door shutting, he was gone, without so much of a look back.
jogging down the stairs and out of this suffocating hellhole.
-
it doesn’t take long for the police to show up, banging their fists on the door and red in the face with anger.
they grilled you and steve for what felt like hours. making sure you hadn’t helped in his escape. tearing his room apart for some sort of clue to where he’d gone.
‘we found the tag at a location not far from here.. could anyone be hiding him? he’s in serious trouble.. we need anything you’ve got,’ the officer pleads, frustrated with having to deal with this bullshit on a thursday night. you don’t blame him.
you shake your head, ‘no.. i-i mean, there’s a few bars down on main but our friends aren’t stupid enough to help him.’
any previous feelings of worry had disappeared, replaced with frustration. you weren’t prepared to spend your whole life trying to find eddie every time he decided to run away. he so obviously didn’t give a shit about what you thought, it was a waste of energy at this point.
the officer sighs, ‘right, well you let us know if he gets in contact or comes back here,’ rummaging in his pocket for a small bit of card, ‘that’s my personal number.. call me straight away.’
you nod, thumbing the glossy card and flopping back onto the couch. steve shows them out, closing the door softly after they leave. he gives you a look, full of pity. he doesn’t say a thing but you know what he’s thinking.
‘i’m done,’ holding your hands up, ‘he can get himself out of this one.. i don’t care anymore,’ surrendering completely.
he nods, looking as just as tired as you felt. sometimes you forget that this isn’t just between you and eddie, steve is right in the middle of it all too, staying quiet and holding back for eddie’s sake.
you’d tried to be courteous and thoughtful with eddie. pulling away from steve when he’d enter the room, trying not to be so overly affectionate in front of him. you felt like maybe you owed him that for how you’d gone about it, but why?
not once had he ever shown interest in being with you romantically, he was the one that’d explicitly said that you and him were friends with some added benefits. screw him.
‘you hungry? i wanna get out of here,’ pushing yourself from the couch and throwing your arms around steve’s waist, cheek squished against his chest.
‘i could eat,’ returning the hug, swaying slightly as his hands roam around your back.
-
eddie’s pov
eddie checks his phone for the umpteenth time.
no new notifications
he was anticipating at least something from you by now. hell, even a pathetic hi would’ve sufficed. the man wasn’t dumb, choosing to hole himself up in gareth’s basement with a six-pack rather than hitting the main spots.
he questions whether the dinghy, dark basement was any better than the confines of the room he’d escaped. supposing that you and steve weren’t next door, anything would be better.
he debates just calling you first. curious to know why you hadn’t called. maybe after the next beer. or maybe now. fuck it, it’s already dialling.
it rings and rings, becoming increasingly concerned with your well-being.
‘what?’ your voice rings out after the fifth or sixth ring.
he’s taken aback, ‘hello to you too,’ taking another swig of beer, his knees pulled up to his chest.
‘what d’you want?’
christ. you really weren’t falling for it this time.
‘nothin’.. just expected to hear from you by now, that’s all.’
he can hear the eye roll through the phone, your tiny almost inaudible little tut, ‘i’m not saving you this time.’
‘i didn’t ask you to.’
‘so why’d you call then? i’m busy.’
‘you with steve?’ he doesn’t even know why he asked, of course you were.
‘yeah, i am.. is that what you wanted to hear? or were you hoping i was out searching for you with the police?’
ouch. you’d called him out. figured out his silly game and threw it straight back in his face.
‘i didn’t- you just had to rub it in, didn’t you?’ anger rising in his throat, ‘you always do.’
‘you think i’m doing this to make you jealous? this isn’t about you anymore.. you need to get over yourself,’ you sigh, empathetic about the harsh words that’d just spilled out, ‘i love him, eddie.. you’re gonna have to deal with that.’
and with that the phone clicks. you’d hung up. you had hung up on him, no grovelling or pleading for him to come back home. that was it. the harsh truth and now he had to just sit with it.
his head falls back against the cold brick, staring up at the damp covered ceiling, weighing up his options. he knew he’d fucked up. best case scenario, he’d get a couple extra months on his sentence. worst case, they’d throw the book at him for wasting their time.. not to mention the already hefty sentence for the assault.
you had completely and utterly exhausted yourself trying to support him and even you had had enough. he only had himself to blame for that. maybe jail would be a good thing? he could get his head straight.. get over you, maybe even find some purpose in his life.
he pulls another beer from the pack, cracking it open and taking a long swig. exhaling as the bitter liquid seeps down his throat. there was only one way out of this fucked situation and he knew that.
-
eddie perks up when he hears your key in the door, sat on the couch for what seemed like hours waiting for you both to get back.
your face drops the instant you see him, gripping onto steve’s hand as you walk into the dimly lit living room.
eddie stands, holding up his hands, ‘i’m gonna hand myself in.. i just-,’ he exhales deeply, ‘i wanted to say goodbye,’ jaw tense as he looms between you and steve.
‘you are? do you want me to call the sheriff? i- he gave me his number..’
‘no, no.. i’m gonna go down there.. it’s easier,’ eddie motions towards the door, shaking his head.
you stand dumbfounded for a second before nodding slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek, ‘it’s the right thing to do..’ the lump in your throat growing as you look back at the pathetic man in front of you.
steve gives him a weak smile, patting his hand on your arm. there’s a brief moment of silence. the three of you all staring back at one another in awe of the fucked up mess you’d wound up in.
‘c’mere,’ steve motions to eddie, walking over to the boy with arms outstretched. he pulls him into a bear hug, clapping his palm on eddie’s back.
from the look on eddie’s face squished against steve’s shoulder you can tell he needed it, ‘i’ll miss you man..’ he breathes into his best friend’s sweater.
‘we’ll come and visit.. you’re not getting rid of me that easy,’ his laugh is shaky as he pulls away, smiling proudly at his friend.
you stand slightly behind steve, watching on with tears brimming in your eyes. even though steve had tried to reassure you, you couldn’t help but feel so guilty that this had ultimately all happened because of you.
eddie walks over slowly, throwing his arms around your body, gripping his fingers into your arms knowing that this may very well be the last time he ever got to hold you like this.
your arms cling around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest, ‘i’m proud of you..’ was all you managed to croak out, tears wetting his dirty t-shirt.
he sniffs, swallowing the lump in his throat, ‘thank you.. for everything,’ because truly, you were the only person to never give up on him, even if he had made it incredibly difficult for you.
you lift your head off of his chest, staring up at him with sodden cheeks, bottom lip quivering as you let go of him. both physically and emotionally.
he puffs his cheeks out, wiping his face with the back of his hand before clearing his throat and nodding at the pair of you, ‘you take care of her..’ eyebrow raised.
‘aye aye captain,’ steve gives him a tight lipped smile and a half-assed salute, watching as the man he had grown up with walked out of the apartment, head held high and a newfound spring in his step.
the end of the beginning.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve stranger things#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things x you#steve harrington fic#eddie munson#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#steve harrington smut
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Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x Reader ~ 2/6
Read part 1 here
Cw: angst, jealousy, pining, weed consumption, 18+ content MDNI
Wc: 4.4k
You didn’t see Eddie the rest of the day, but you did happen to run into Steve and yell at him for the most impromptu timing in the world. It has been a scorcher of a day, so you were elated that today was swim day.
The sun was sweltering; Robin and you had to triple-check that your campers had all the water-resistant sunscreen. You had worn your bathing suit under your jean shorts and Camp Murdock t-shirt, but you couldn’t take the sweaty cotton touching your skin any longer. You had to strip off the clothes that were sticking to your skin.
“I think I might die if I don’t get in the water now!” Robin complained. You could see her usually pin-straight bangs getting wavy from the sweat on her forehead.
“Same here, I can’t believe I didn’t think to put my hair up this morning." You could feel the sweat dripping down the base of your neck.
As soon as you reached the dock, you took charge and ensured that everyone in your group was fully aware of all the water safety rules. You then conducted a final head count of all the campers before jumping into the water yourselves.
Robin was the first to take the plunge, diving headfirst into the refreshing water. Despite the initial shock of the cold water, she resurfaced with a huge grin on her face, her teeth chattering with excitement.
“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” she squealed.
“Oh god, I don’t want to do it now,” you laughed as you stripped off your jean shorts.
Just as you were removing your clothes, Eddie, Steve, and Ashton came running around the corner, unable to stay in the heat themselves. Due to the hot weather, Eddie tied his long hair back, and his light grey shirt turned dark grey from sweat. They had just changed into their swimming trunks.
“Hey, look, the girls,” Ashton pointed to you and Robin.
Eddie had stopped dead in his tracks as he watched you. It was like you were moving in slow motion.
You still were taking your shorts off. Eddie watched as your peach of an ass bent over to step out of your shorts, your back arching as you peeled off the t-shirt. You wore your red bikini with little white hearts matched perfectly with the little heart inked into the skin on your right butt cheek.
Hold up, what? Eddie’s brain short-circuited. You not only have a tattoo, but an ass tattoo?
“Dude, hello, Earth to Eddie,” Steve was snapping his fingers in front of Eddie's face.
“ Huh, what?” Eddie reluctantly peeled his eyes away from you.
“You’d been staring at her for like five minutes, bro; just ask her out already.” Ashton laughed.
“Was not five minutes"
“So you admit you’re staring?” Steve smirks.
“How could I not? Don’t you have eyes?”
The guys laughed, and Eddie continued his gaze back to you when he saw Billy approaching you from the right. Eddie felt a sudden possessiveness over you when it came to that guy. He never liked Billy from the start. His off-putting comment and how he looked at you like he wanted to eat you were unsettling.
Eddie didn’t waste another second thinking about it; he started to run towards you, kicking off his slides and tossing his shirt before he grabbed you by the waist and flung you both into the water, laughing.
-
You weren’t paying attention to the boys behind you; honestly, you had no idea they were even there. You were too focused on working up the courage to finally jump in. Robin tried to convince you when you heard your name being called.
“Bambi, damn girl, you’re looking hotter than last year.” You turned and rolled your eyes immediately. Out of all people, Billy. You watched in disgust as he was ogling you while licking his lips.
Before you could even reply, a force pushed you into the freezing water.
When you breach the surface, you profusely try to catch your breath, looking around to see what the fuck just happened.
Your first instinct was to blame Billy for pushing you in.
“What the fuck Coyote?!” You were freezing, and the drastic temperature change had your teeth chattering.
“It wasn’t me!” his hands when up in defence.
You believe him, so you start looking around because he couldn't have, and you swore another person had jumped into the lake with you.
“Sorry, Princess. As your knight, I must fulfill my duty to you to save you.” A whisper echoed in your ear.
You let out a small scream, startled by his closeness, but when your heart settled, your flesh rose in goosebumps, not because of the cold of the lake water. Strong hands touch your waits turning you around to face your ‘saviour’
“Oh, my hero,” you fake swoon.
Eddie laughed, his head tipped all the way back so his hair was touching the water, his thick neck exposed, sending you into a daydream of leaving many a mark on that neck, but your thots were halted by Eddie pushing down on your head, dunking you back into the water.
“Edward Munson, I swear to God!” You screamed when you popped back up out of the water.
“Oh, my government name? You wound me, Princess.” He grabbed his chest like he had a knife in his heart.
You started to swim towards him, but the cold lake water was starting to numb your limbs. You couldn’t move fast enough; your teeth were still chattering, and Eddie could hear how cold you were.
“I'm sorry, Princess. I need to redeem myself.” He reached out and pulled you into his body, wrapping his arms around the small of your waist.
“You better be.” You shivered.
“Come, let's get you warmed up in the sun.”
He hopped out of the water, not even having to use the ladder. He reached down, holding out his hand to help you out, but you yanked him back down, and he fell head-first back into the water.
Eddie could only hear your laugh when he broke through the surface.
“I guess I deserved that.” He shook his head like a wet dog.
You were already halfway up the ladder when you felt his gaze on you. Eddie watched as you climbed up; he trialled right behind you, giving him a great view of the tattoo he wanted to know more about.
You quickly ran over to the towel that had been warmed by the sun. Shivering, you crouched down and sat in a ball to cover yourself with the whole towel.
“Come ‘er Princess, let's get you warmed up.” Eddie sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders with his own towel to cover you both before he started rubbing his hands up and down your arms to help you get warm.
You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder. Between the sun and Eddie, you warmed you up in no time.
You were at peace, the smell of coconut sunscreen, the sounds of splashing in the water, the warm feeling you were getting because Eddie was not only touching you, but hugging you.
“There you go, your majesty, all better,” Eddie smirked.
“You’re really not going to give up this joke, are you?” You laughed.
“Not in a million years, Princess.”
-
You and the girls were busily getting ready for a cozy after-the-bonfire hangout with the boys in the mess hall. You were there setting up some snacks and drinks on the table, and the soft glow of the fairy lights hanging on the walls added to the warm ambiance of the room.
Meanwhile, Eddie and his cabin were chatting and laughing, looking forward to the evening. As the night grew darker, they realized it was already 10:00 pm, and they needed to do one last check on the campers to make sure they were sound asleep. Once it was all calre the guys made their way to the mess hall.
“So you and Julie seem to be getting pretty close.” With his flashlight under his chin, Ashton wiggled his eyebrows at Eddie. Eddie shoves his shoulder lightly, laughing in response.
“I don’t know, man. I know her from home, is all.” Eddie shrugged.
“Come on, dude! You totally couldn’t keep your hands off her at the lake today; I saw you,” Ashton accused.
“Well, have you seen her? And I think she has been flirty with me? I don't know...she confuses me,” Eddie admitted, thinking back on earlier this morning when he thought you almost kissed him.
It's not like Eddie didn't want to believe it, it's that he can't believe it. Why do you, out of all people, want to be with him?
“I would go for it, dude, trust me. She is my best girl-friend, and I shouldn’t say anything, so I won’t, but if I were you, I would ask her out.” Steve joined in.
“You shouldn’t say anything? What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked as they opened the doors to the hall.
“Sorry, man, sworn to secrecy, but trust me, bro.”
“Don't ever trust Moose.” Robin giggled, not knowing the context of the conversation.
“Hey, boys,” you smiled.
Eddie’s eyes met yours, and he smiled back, but his smile dropped when he saw Billy sitting beside you. Billy was like a mosquito who wouldn't leave you alone; he gave you no personal space even though you were seated at a twenty-foot-long picnic table.
He tried his best to ignore Billy; you had already said you didn’t like him, so why did Eddie feel jealous?
Instead, Eddie tried to focus all his attention on you, so he sat directly across from you. Eddie thought you looked cute tonight. Your natural hair was wrapped up in a messy bun, but shorter pieces framing your face.
You wore a heather grey Camp Murdock oversized crewneck sweater, blue and green plaid flannel pyjama pants, and pink fuzzy socks. He liked that you felt comfortable enough to not try hard like you do back home. Back home, he never saw your hair out of place or your outfit not coordinated. Not that Eddie didn't like that version of you, but he likes this version a whole lot more. It made you feel more real and less of this superhuman that the town dubbed you as.
“What are we playing today?” Eddie asked.
“A good old game of truth or dare,” Robin smiled.
“Oh god,” Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. We have a little something extra to make it fun,” You smiled while showing the group the pre-rolled joint you pulled out of your pyjama pants pocket.
Eddie smirked at the thought of you, goodie two shoes, and buying weed. Then, his thought process changed… Who else would you get weed from if not him?
“The fuck you get that?” Eddie didn’t intend for it to be that harsh, but it slipped out like word vomit. Could this be trusted? How did he know it wasn’t laced or tainted.
“Oh, uh, I know a local guy.” Your smile dropped, and Eddie watched as you curled into yourself.
Fuck.
“Better be up to this guy’s standards,” Billy pointed to Eddie, only making it worse.
“You’re lucky I’m even sharing with you.”
“Let’s just start, guys, jeez.” Robin rolled her eyes.
You lit up first then passed it to Billy. Eddie seethed that he got it first. He almost grabbed it right from your hands but he knew he needed to control himself…
The game went on, and the typical stuff happened: streaking, truths about the first kiss, and chugging a combination of ketchup, mustard, and mayo. The joint was getting down to a nub, and it was really starting to take effect. The mood had been lifted, and Eddie noticed how you and the others were getting more giggly, whispering and plotting the next truths and dares.
Steve was up next, and he turned to you.
“Truth or dare?” Steve asks with a smirk.
“Truth,” you say confidently.
“Who was the last guy to give you an orgasm?” He gives you the biggest tooth smile.
Eddie’s ears perk up, his attention locked in. The bubbling feeling of jealousy almost formed again, but it disappeared as soon as you spoke your answer.
“No one.” You blushed.
“Come on, no one believes you, Bambi.” Steve retorts.
“I’m serious! Now shut up it's my turn.” You huffed.
Eddie was not surprised you’re a virgin; if you had slept with anyone, everyone in Hawkins would have known about it.
It sounds wrong, but Eddie was relieved when you said no one. Nobody would be able to please you like he could. The things Eddie wanted to do to you, worship you, take care of you…
“Eddie, hello! earth to Eddie!” Your voice snaps Eddie out of his daydreams.
“Huh? What?”
“Truth or dare,” you smile at him.
“Dare,” Eddie smirked.
“I dare you to kiss…Billy.” You, Robin, and Nancy burst into a fit of giggles like you’ve been plotting.
“I’ll kiss literaly any other guy. Try again, sweetheart.” Eddie sees you try to hide your smile at the pet name. Noted.
"Hey! What's wrong with me?"
"Everything..." Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Come here, big guy, let me plant one on ya." Billy began to chase Eddie around the room, and you, along with everyone else, couldn't hold in your giggles. It was really good weed.
-
The night rolled on, and everyone had to return to their cabins before you knew it.
“Well, boys, I am never skinny dipping at night again. I think my dick shrunk back into my body. Fuck, that lake is cold!” Ashton laughed.
“I never want to see those hairy cheeks again,” Eddie joined.
“I can’t believe what Bambi said, can you?” Steve piped up.
“About what?” Eddie asked.
“That no guy has ever gotten her off. You would think at least one would, you know” Steve exclaimed while brushing his teeth.
“Maybe that’s why she is acting like she has a stick up her ass; I can show her a good time, maybe replace that stick with mine, if you know what I mean.” Billy joked, cupping his crotch as he was getting his pyjamas on.
The joke wasn’t funny; the thought of any guy touching you made Eddie's knuckles go white. His face dropped into a sneer for a split second, but he caught himself. Fucking hell, Munson pulled it together.
“Shut up, dude. She wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.” Ashton laughed as he lay in his bunk.
“Oh yeah, we will see. She will come around.” He winked, and Eddie felt the s’mores in his stomach start to churn.
Eddie was about to let Steve know that there was no way on God's green earth that you had slept with someone, but his attention was shifted when Steve spoke again.
“Word is she likes someone,” Steve dropped casually as he climbed into his top bunk.
That caught the three men’s attention; they whipped around simultaneously, and all Steve could do was laugh.
“You guys are something else.” He chuckled and laid down to go to sleep.
Maybe Ashton was right; maybe his ever-growing crush on you was too obvious. Maybe he should dial it back more...
-
As the sun sets over Camp Murdock, the anticipation builds for the evening's main event - the camper's talent show. You, Eddie, and Steve have been chosen as the judges for the show, and it's an exciting responsibility. The venue for the show is the old barn on the property. You have carefully set up rows of chairs and cleared a decent patch of the floor to create a makeshift stage. The rustic and charming barn is adorned with twinkle lights that create a warm and cozy atmosphere. A folding table is placed before the judges, where they will take notes and make their final decisions.
As the kids prepare backstage, their nervous energy is palpable. The makeshift backstage area is just an old curtain hanging on a rod by the back right wall. You can hear the campers giggling and screaming in excitement and nervousness. Despite their jitters, they are ready to showcase their talents and make the night memorable for everyone.
You sat in the middle with Steve and Eddie on either other side of you.
“Are you going to strut your stuff up there later tonight?” you asked Eddie quietly, giggling.
To your surprise, he didn’t give you much of an answer, a grunt and a shrug of his shoulders.
That was weird; Eddie had been so warm yesterday. This was your first time seeing him today; maybe he’s tired?
You tried shaking it off, wanting to focus on the kids.
“They all did well. It was so cute to see them perform their dances and songs. One kid did a magic show, and another just showed off his rock collection. Ultimately, one of Eddie’s campers, who had a beautiful singing voice, won the talent show. As a consolation prize, everyone who participated got ice cream. After all the celebrations, everyone went to bed, and it was time for the counsellors to have their own talent show.
You're incredibly nervous this year because you have decided to do something bold. You haven’t told anyone about it, not even Nancy or Robin. It’s evident to anyone who knows you that you’ll be dancing tonight, but it’s usually a ballet number. However, tonight is different. You are determined to make your move and not waste more precious time.
You carefully rummaged through your bag, removing the skin-tight pleather black booty shorts and a shiny red, cropped tank top. You loved the way the two pieces hugged your curves, making you feel both sexy and confident.
Next, you moved to the bathroom and began styling your hair. You wanted to create a voluminous look, so you used a curling iron to add bouncy curls that cascaded down your back. You then applied makeup, starting with a base of foundation and concealer. You added smoky black eyeliner to your upper and lower lids and finished the look with bold red lipstick that made your lips pop.
As soon as you feel prepared and all set, you slip into your cozy grey sweatpants over your shorts, taking care to secure yourself from the pesky bugs outside. You then slide your feet into your sleek black dancing heels and grab your cassette tape.
Robin was the first to see you when you returned to the barn.
“Shut the fuck up; what are you doing?” she asked most affectionately. A growing smirk spreads across her face as you turn.
“You’ll see.” Your confidence was helping a little, but deep down, you were terrified. You’ve been so nervous you think you might be sick.
As the talent show kicked off, you were excited to spend the evening with Eddie, but he seemed distant. Despite your best attempts at conversation, Eddie remained quiet and disinterested in engaging with you. Later, when you tried to talk to him again, he brushed you off, leaving you feeling hurt and confused. You hoped that his behaviour was just a temporary mood, but the fear of failure lingered in the back of your mind. If the plan you had been working on together didn't come to fruition, you knew you would be mortified.
As the show went on, you unfortunately had the pleasure of going dead last. Eddie wasn’t a judge this time, but he was still sitting in the front row. Perfect.
As the host, Mike, asked for your tape to be put into the casket player, he saw your hands visibly shaking.
“Bambi, relax. It's just for fun; you do this every year. We all love your little ballerina stuff,” he smiled.
“Do I look like I’m dressed to do ballet— know what, never mind?” You didn’t mean to be snappy; Mike had always been nice to you.
As he walked out on “stage” to announce the next performance, you stepped off your sweats, pulled the zipper up the side of the black high heels and prayed that you wouldn’t fall flat on your face in front of Eddie.
“Last but certainly not least, we have a crowd favourite!” The audience, your fellow colleagues, clapped as you walked out. You heard someone whistle, most likely Robin and your stomach flip-flopped.
You walk out and face the back wall, standing in a bevel, arms hanging by your side, waiting for the chords to start.
The first notes of Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love dripped from the speakers.
Your body moved seductively once the music hit like you were in a trace performance mode.
Were you worried some of the other girls would call you a slut? Absolutely, but once the music started, all that went away.
You began dancing like you had when Eddie caught you in the studio that first day, but this time, with the hair, makeup, and shoes, you were more confident than you'd ever been.
A-way, way down inside
A-honey you need-ah
I'm gonna give you my love, ah
I'm gonna give you my love, ah oh
The rush of being on stage made you lose yourself in the routine, however the part you had been most nervous about was coming up.
A-way, way down inside
You stood facing the crowd with your head thrown back, your right hand ran down your stomach, grazing past the waistband of your shorts that hardly covered anything, down cupping your core, then slinked it back up again.
I'm gonna give ya my love
Your head snaps back up, and you took a slow strut forward.
I'm gonna give ya every inch of my love
another slow step forward
I'm gonna give ya my love
You reached your target as you slowly sank to your knees right where Eddie was sitting. Giving him a small wink before you whipped your hair, you looked back up at him through your lashes, and you saw his jaw was clenched, and his hands were balled up white-knuckling.
You reached up with a single hand and grazed it over his left thigh before slinking back down to roll away and get back to the rest of the routine.
By the time you had finished, you were out of breath. Everyone cheered, and a few whistles were made as you walked off stage, but when you looked around, Eddie was gone.
Your heart sank. The overwhelming feeling of embarrassment washed over you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.
Of course, he wouldn’t want you in that way.
You were a fool to think he ever would.
You were naive to think changing your appearance to be like the edgier sexy chicks he probably goes for. You literally pulled a Sandy for Grease. You tried putting yourself out there, doing this dance, but now you felt the tears welling up; the lump in your throat grew. You felt like an idiot.
You needed air. You took off your shoes, put your pants back on, and walked out the barn's back door.
“Bambi, wait up.”
You turn to see Billy.
“Uh, hey,” You try to keep your voice as neutral as possible, forcing yourself not to let it crack.
“You were amazing up there!” He smiled and gave an encouraging hug.
“Thanks, Coyote, that's really sweet for you to say.” You sniffled.
“Hey, are you okay?” he pulled away to see your tears threatening to leave the rims of your lash line. “No, no, it’s okay. Don’t cry; everyone thought you rocked it!” He pulled you into another comforting hug.
This was the most genuine Billy’s been with you all summer. This was the Billy you knew and loved last summer.
“You really think so?” you ask trying to pull yourself together.
“Yes! Of course; what’s gotten into you?” He looked concerned.
“Nerves, I guess.” You try to shrug it off, but you can’t shake the feeling.
“Well you did amazing, you won!” He gave me a congratulatory kiss on the cheek; it was soft and hardly grazed your skin.
“Thank you.” You pulled him in for another hug. You just needed a friend right now, and I missed this version of Billy.
“You know there is another way I can make you feel better.” He chuckled.
“And the moment ruined, ugh. Why do you do that?” he laughed as you stepped away.
-
You found Cassie and the other girls back at the cabin.
“Hey guys.” You sniffled as you walked to your bed.
“Babe, you were amazing up there! Who knew you could move like that!” Clover cheered.
“You are one hot Mamma!” Nancy giggled.
“Bam, what’s wrong?” Robin asked after you hadn’t really said anything back. She came to sit beside you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder.
“It’s silly…” tears threatening to run down your cheeks once again.
“Hey, it’s just us." Nancy reached over and touched your hand.
You let out a heavy sigh.
“I feel like such an idiot! I did that whole thing to get Eddie’s attention, but he was gone before I even finished dancing.” You hid your face in your hands, too embarrassed to look at your friends.
“If you ask me, he looked like he was trying to contain himself. Girl, you did that to him with no warning! Hell, even I wanted to jump your bones just watching you.” Robin giggled.
“Really? Do you think so? You don’t think he was mad or put off? I saw his face—he looked annoyed. Like he was uncomfortable. Even earlier, he was cold to me.” You grabbed a tissue and blotted away your blackened tears.
“Nah, Bams, he looked like a man trying not to pop a boner, especially when you touched his thighs! Holy shit, I thought he would blow his load right there.”
Nancy managed to pull a laugh off of you.
“Thanks, guys; I think I'll feel better in the morning.” you sighed and gave them each a hug, then got ready for bed.
Next chapter
Tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @guineveresghost @ezzynf @oneforthemunny @paybacksawitch
#eddie munson x reader#Eddie Munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#Eddie Munson au#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n#take me to the lakes#Eddie Munson#eddie munson x oc#Eddie Munson camp au
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Ectoplasm Gives You Wings 0.?
Hey here's a scene that happened long before Danny showed up have fun
Here is the subscription post
Need to know concept:
When you're in a world where wings are associated with ghosts, you're gonna assume that coming back from the dead with wings means you have some unfinished business. Harley Quinn POV.
Ever since Joker died, Harley expected his killer would come after her. She hadn't been with him for a couple years, but that hardly made up for the shit she'd done while they were together. Really the only surprise was that they hadn’t killed her first as a warning to him.
So when she walked into her apartment kitchen to see a guy with huge wings wearing a red helmet, Harley wasn’t terribly surprised. Not about the break-in or the gun pointed at her, at least.
"How'd'ya manage to fit those things in here?" she asked. The guy didn't answer. The wings flexed like he wanted to open them, but there wasn't any room.
"Harley," the Red Hood said, sounding very intimidating with some kind of voice modulation. "You know why I’m here."
"I can make a guess, big guy," Harley said sadly. "Nothing I can do to change your mind?"
"You let it happen. You helped him. Why should you escape justice?"
"I did my time for most of it. And I spent the last couple a years trying to put him in the ground. That doesn't fit into your equation somehow?" She tried edging slowly to a shelf where she had a gun of her own. Red Hood noticed. He stepped forward and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.
"Did any of that bring back the innocent people you killed? The children you tortured?"
"Woah, woah, woah, time out. I never did anything like that to kids." Harley held her hands up in a T shape above Red Hood's fist. "I did some awful stuff I ain't proud of, but I never tortured kids."
"You didn't seem to care that he did."
Harley sighed and lowered her hands onto Red Hood's arm and tried to look into the eyes of his weird helmet. "What do you expect to happen here? You want me to beg until you feel satisfied? Sorry, buddy. Not really my style! I don't like a lotta what I did back then, but I can't fix it. I'm trying better now. If that's not good enough for ya, that's too bad."
The Red Hood didn't move for a moment. It was kind of creepy, if Harley was honest. He didn't say anything, he didn't twitch. Was the guy even breathing? It was always hard to talk to someone in a full face mask. There was no way to tell whether they were even listening. Contrary to popular belief, Harley didn't talk just to hear her own voice! Not often, at least.
The hand let go of her shirt. Harley pulled back to regain her balance, but she didn't relax just yet. There was still a big murderous birdman with a gun in her apartment. Even if he wasn't about to shoot her just now, he was still dangerous.
"Fucking hell," the guy said. He seemed to stagger backwards until one of his wings clipped the half-wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Then he leaned against the pillar heavily.
"Shit. You're right. This is pointless. Why am I here?"
Harley took her chance to grab her gun just in case, but Red Hood didn't seem to notice. She stared at him with suspicious, narrowed eyes. "Do you mean here in my apartment, or are you really having an existential crisis right now?"
"I'm not having a- Fuck. I guess I am." He held his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, Harls."
Well, that was an unusual nickname. It wasn't something she heard much outside of kids from the Bowery or Narrows. Most other kids in Gotham got swept up by their parents before they could talk to her.
"You lose somebody?" she asked softly, gun tucked in her pocket. "Sibling? A kid?"
Red Hood choked out a bitter laugh. "Myself." When Harley's eyebrows did a wild semaphore of emotion, the asshole deigned to explain. "He killed me. I... I came back. Figured, y'know, I must've been brought back for a reason, right?" He sunk down further against the pillar, the white tips of his mostly-black wings spreading across the floor like the fabric of a cape.
Damn, Harley thought. That made a fucked up amount of sense. "I can't really blame you for thinking that," she admitted. "The feathers a new fashion choice then?"
"You could say that. Shit." Red Hood reached up to the bottom of his helmet and depressed some trigger there. Harley heard a hiss of pressurization before it popped off the guy's head. The first thing she saw was black hair. That wasn't surprising. The surprising thing was when he leaned his head back against the pillar, revealing a young face and a shock of white hair in his bangs. Then he opened his eyes, and they were as blue as the sky.
"Hey kid? What did you say your name was?"
He took a devastatingly long time to respond.
"They called me Robin, once."
#dpxdc#jason todd#harleen quinzel#i originally wanted this to go further#but the last line was just too good#ectoplasm gives you wings#egyw
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So one thing I keep thinking about with the dungeon is the immortality spell
Here thar be spoilers
Cuz there’s this general assumption being made in and out of world that that’s just a thing that all the dungeons have (because that’s how dungeon crawler games work; you can save and come back and revive party members and things)
And from how the adventuring party culture is shown, it’s easy to assume that it’s just a general thing the demon sets up every time to keep adventurers coming back
After all, Chilchuck’s our only full time cast member who’s ever seen another dungeon, and he’s died a lot in his early career; makes sense he just got revived, all the dungeons work like that
And Marcille, who’s studied dungeons in general, gives us an overview of how it happens… but. She came to this dungeon specifically to study the immortality spell. For reasons
And Mr Tance gives us this description, which blatantly states that this dungeon is different
Now, other dungeons might have different immortality spells, and the Canaries definitely talk about dying like it’s something they do on the job just, on the regular
Like when Lycion explains they’re just gonna kill Fleki and revive her because neurological damage is harder
(Although somehow Mithrun’s fellow wardens are staying dead?)
So at the very least, there is something on some other dungeons that allows people to be revived, because the Canaries are at the Island for the first time in the 6 years since the dungeon existed
And yet, during the upheaval of the dungeon, Flamela says this
And holy shit gang, this tells us a lotta things
1) like everything else, the dungeon lord gets to decide if people can be revived on a per dungeon basis
2) it can be turned off. If you die in the dungeon suddenly you die in real life too, on a dime. As in, you revive the tank before the mage, and suddenly the mage is just dead-dead. The dungeon lord decides you stay dead on Thursdays? You stay dead on Thursdays
3) You’ve just gotta accept that any time the dungeon lord changes they may or may not do a reset to factory settings and wipe the whole dungeon, which is already super dangerous and likely to kill a lotta people
4) this is a regular fucking concern for the Canaries, who explicitly go in to fuck around when the dungeon (and associated lord) are too powerful
5) Flamela’s probably seen this before, it’s been a while and she lays it out in a very matter of fact way (and she’s. Dramatic. Cranky even.)
6) if Mithrun didn’t purchase Dungeon Immortality Insurance that dead Canary buddy in his flashback is dead-dead… and we don’t know if a single other member made it out of his dungeon soooo
7) Thistle is even more extra than we thought, since generic immortality is common enough to be taken for granted, but he specifically made dying illegal, which Mr Tance says is weird and he’s been doing this long enough to be an expert advisor
8) there is at least one other way to make resurrection work within dungeons. He didn’t even have to be like this. But he’s been doing it 1000 years and the demon may have gotten the idea from him
9) there have DEFINITELY 100% been adventurers who were used to the resurrection dungeons who bulled head first into a non-resurrection dungeon and are dead
10) Kabru is so fucking lucky he ended up at the Island if he coulda stayed dead he wouldn’t have hit 21. Milsiril probably steered him here on purpose as a baby dungeon
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#delicious in dungeon spoilers#dungeon meshi spoilers#dungeon meshi meta#the immortality spell#does someone make signs#is there a guidebook to which dungeons will let your dumb ass be revived
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Megumi x Childhood Bestie!Reader Hcs
I've seen too many of these and needed to write a few heh ive actually never written hcs before so this is my first time 😅 kinda a slow burn?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
so first of all you were tsumiki's bestie because I haven't seen a hc like that yet (PLEASE I NEEDA SEE ONE OF THESE-)
and we'll also make fushi's mom besties with your mom
so now you two are besties since you were in diapers
and you were a very grabby baby and Fushiguro's hair is as wild as carpaccios from mashle-
(sorry not sorry)
so you'd just grab at his hair and pull it all the time which would annoy the hell out of him
which would then somehow end up in you two fighting
AS BABIES
and then your mother's would have to calm you down
and after the whole toji and mother fushiguro went bye bye your mom took in megumi and tsumiki
so now timeskip you're both 6 years old and just walking together from who knows where
and if you thought you grew out of these grabby tendencies no you're either grabbing his hair or his sleeve
yes it still annoys the hell out of him but you do it for shits and giggles
and then on this fine day you just happen to run into the gojo satoru
LMAO MY AUTOCORRECT ALMOST CAPITALIZED HIS NAME
anyway this guy is making his ever so iconic face like 'bro reminds me of his dad-'
anyway gojo doesn't know who you are so you're just standing there awkwardly behind megumi while you're now gripping his backpack
and you're just glaring at gojo for no reason at all for sure just thinking 'who the hell is this weird ahh man with hair like he's in his 70s tryna kidnap megumi 🤨🤨'
and ofc megumi pulls the 'what about my sister' card
and after the whole negotiation with megumi he turns to you and is like 'you can come along too ig'
and ofc you watch megumi so you pull the 'what about my parents' card
gojo's like 😀
anyway you somehow end up going to school with megumi and tsumiki and first day kindergarten no surprise you guys are the new kids
everyone I mean EVERYONE loves tsumiki ofc
a partial reason is because of you and megumi glaring at the people who you think are looking at her a lil funny
like sir ma'am CHILD how dare you
anyway you have a pretty peaceful elementary school
you do pick fights with megumi though
...and a whole lotta other people
you stopped in middle school but looks like megumi picked it up instead because yk he beat up a hefty amount of people
you stanned him for that
also hyping him up from the back
"YEAHH MEGUMI BEAT THEIR ASS"
"shut up."
"no."
".."
"anyway YOU GO MEGUMI BEAT EM UP-"
"sHUT-"
so that was pretty eventful but tsumiki did not approve which caused you to sulk next to megumi
but then yk she went to the cliff and shit went down real fast
tsumiki got cursed, you entered your depressed angsty teenager era, and megumi became emo. more so than he was before
"oh my god its worse than they thought- they made him EMO-"
^ thats megumi now but we all like pretty emo bois so
wItH tHeIr bLaCk hAiR aNd gReEn oRbS-
too bad megumi has blue eyes
>>>>>>
see this is why asians don't have blue eyes we'd be too powerful
anyway back to this you two finish middle school all swandy dandy but a lil depressed
oh and I don't think I mentioned you two got into a fight bc of tsumiki's sickness
like-
megumi: you're closer to tsumiki bc you two are girls why didn't you stop her from pulling random crap whatever she did to make her sick
you: BITCH you blaming ME? you wanna go?
yeah basically you two got into a stupid argument but oh well its fine bc gojo forced you two to talk again and yay you're talking again
and now first year into jujutsu tech you and megumi are the only students so you're still poking and grabbing him all the time
you did it less in middle school
I think we know why
like you're in the car going to a mission- his hairs being tugged
got off the car and walking his sleeve being tugged
everthing
literally everthing
my bros grown immune to it though so he doesn't really mind
he kinda likes it now but will never admit it
so let's say before you got ranked up and all your arm almost got blown off by a curse
needless to say tsumiki's accident really hit him hard so this hit him harder and when I say he got angry he got ANGRY ASF DUDE
like he freakin obliterated the damn curse
he also made it pretty painful
if you even can
and let his demon dogs casually eat it up
and you're just there like 👏👁️👄👁️
"it's not that deep bro-"
"yes it is"
gojo was very proud though
and now you're with him stalking itadori and you're like
woah
*1 braincell working*
itadori = fast
fast = speed
I am speed
ITADORI = LIGHTNING MCQUEEN
kachow
and when you finally confront your stalkee with megumi and itadori's like
"uh I'm mourning rn"
you're just
"thats great and all dude I totally feel you but you're gonna be mourning even more if we don't get our asses to your school"
you did not want to host multiple funerals
so you all speed ran to his school
and whoopsie doosies you're with megumi and itadori makes an entrance like the main character he is
and when my bro eats that finger
and gojo pops up
he throws the kikufuku at megumi
but its okay hope you have a good day imma send you bout 850-
LMAO SORRY
you steal the kikufuku from megumi and eat one as if its popcorn
well you're watching gojo and sukuna fight rn
and you accidentally admit out loud that sukuna's hot
and then megumi low-key side eyes you
BUT THEN HE STARTS FULL ON GLARING AT SUKUNA
bc how dare he some random goofy ahh old mf misongnyistic tatooed dude just steal your attention so casually
he's full on disgusted when he's face to face with sukuna
yes you notice this
you're like
"ooh did somebody get a crush on a thousand year old curse-"
"wtf no get some help"
its the opposite lmao but you don't know that
so then itadori turns back to normal gojo goes boop and he goes to sleep
and now you're here sitting next to megumi, eating Gojo's kikufuku and having the time of your life
holy this is so long imma do a part 2
fun fact my autocorrect always changes sukuna into skunk 🦨
smelly sukuna
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Husk with gender-neutral!reader relationship headcanons
Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice, @nixie-writes, and a few other writers in the Hazbin Hotel community for helping me create a piece for one of my favorite characters from the 2019 pilot episode, Husk! :)
Warning: Husk's potty mouth and this is Hell, so indecent things are bound to happen but nothing to imply NSFW content.
Husk gave up on the idea of love years ago, preferring to drown himself in cheap booze and try his luck at the casino before Alastor pulls him away to do a job for him or some other shit because of his contract with the fucking asshole. Why else would he and Nifty be wastin’ time slaving away in a hotel that’s supposed to rehabilitate sinners? Least the pipsqueak gets to clean this place from top to bottom and away from the clients, and he’s stuck handling their drunk asses in the lobby bar.
Angel Dust has been the one who’s been trying to get into his pants since day one, but that’s a different story entirely. He’s persistent, Husk will give the prissy punk that much credit.
Though…he supposed it isn’t all too bad being here. Least since Vaggie hired you. Initially, the job offer she and Charlie had posted online was to manage the front desk, handle phone calls, and all of the other tasks required to be the hotel’s conceirge. However, since there still wasn’t enough staff to do everything, he would see flitting about carrying baskets of clean linens or giving tours around the hotel to potential clients, helping Vaggie with organizing meetings with the press, and so on.
He might be a drunk asshole, but if there’s one part in his body that’s still functioning besides his dick, it's his hearing.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s heard a snide remark from potential or current clients about your polite demeanor, if you’re actually a freak in bed, and a whole lotta other bullshit he did not want to hear when he’s still sober. He didn’t want to care but god fucking dammit it made his skin crawl at the idea of some asshole thinking they had a chance with you. You, who never seemed to lose your smile and would go out of your way to make Nifty’s day by belting out Broadway songs on top of the banister, completely lost in the character you were playing and not giving a shit about anything else.
Not gonna deny it, you had one hell of a voice. You could change the pitch of it so easily. From a high tone all the way down a low, smooth baritone that almost sounded like a siren’s song luring sailors to a watery grave.
When he actually musters the fucking courage (thanks to a lot of booze from earlier in the day) to ask if you’d like to go to a bar or even the casino, Husk thought you would reject him. After all, why would a someone like you would even want to hang around an old fucker like him?
But when he saw your face turn as red as a certain deer bastard’s suit and sputtered that you weren’t very good at the slots, though you were willingly to try your luck at the blackjack table as long it wasn’t a high stake one, Husk thought he had actually achieved the state of inebriation to where he was hallucinating.
However, he was proven wrong when you told him that you’ll be ready by seven to go to the casino. Since he’d been on good behavior and Charlie never had any issues with you as of late, the princess wouldn’t mind the two of you being out for a couple of hours as long as you kept your phones on you in case anything happened.
Alastor could care less since watching a tormented, loveless war veteran being bewitched by a beguiling songstress provided him with much needed entertainment~.
Upon arriving at the casino, Husk pulled you over to the slot machines. He showed you how they worked and how much money you should put in them, so you don’t lose all of it in under an hour. The old-fashioned ones with the levers weren’t so bad, though the rounds would go pretty quick if you weren’t paying attention to the denominations; same thing applied to the new tech ones, betting could go from 88 cents to up to two dollars.
In the end, you quit after trying three different machines and went to go find the restroom. Husk decided to go find a bar and order a couple of drinks. One for himself, and one for you. A couple of fellas, hellhounds by the look of ‘em, asked him if the ‘pretty little thing’ he was with earlier is with him or if you were single.
“They’re with me, so fuck off.” He grumbled.
“Ya sure about that, old man?”
Husker growled, feeling his hackles rise at the provocation, half of it he blamed on the booze. As much as he wanted to teach these punks a thing or two about showin’ respect….they weren’t worth ruinin’ his first date with you. First impressions made all the difference, least when he’d been alive. So he made a rude hand gesture and sat at the bar until he heard you call out to him.
“Everything all right, Husk? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything between you and your friends. The guys you were talkin’ to before they took off.”
He smirked. “Nah. If I knew them, they’d know how to play poker.” He stood up and grabbed his drink, handing over yours. “C’mon, let’s hit the blackjack tables and see how good you really are.” He said, leading you to your next stop for the night.
Turned out that you weren’t all talk. You were able to win five out of seven rounds, never showing any anxiety or indication that your hand was either good or bad. For kicks, Husk asked if you wanted to try the poker table. You agreed, but just to two rounds. If you weren’t comfortable continuing to play, please allow you to walk away. Husk agreed, opting to watch you from the sidelines as moral support instead of joining you at the table.
Three words could only describe what he saw next: holy fucking shit.
All you could do was smile sheepishly at him when he asked how the ever living fuck were you this good at gambling and didn’t say anything as the two of you left the casino with a hefty sum of cash.
“Would you believe me if I said I’d gotten banned from more than one casino when I was alive because I was just good at card counting?”
He stared at you for a long moment before he grinned widely, clapping you on the back. “I knew I had my eye on ya for a reason!”
‘Course, you’d never know that he wanted to show you that he’s one hell of a gambler at the casino instead of the other way ‘round. How he knew to play his cards right and treat you to something nice, show those little shitheads that a real gentleman knows how to win the game and a good-lookin’ partner all in the same night.
Still…gettin’ spoiled at a nice restaurant for a change wasn’t too bad…so long as no one from the hotel saw them. Especially Alastor.
And that was how your first date went. Nothing too crazy, least the two of you didn’t run into any trouble on the way back to the hotel. Husk walked you to your room, wished you good-night, and went to drink a little more before passing out in his own room.
Husk hasn’t been with anyone in an incredibly long time. There will be moments when he might seem harsher than usual towards you and tries to brush everything off, or chug it down with alcohol. He struggles to communicate with his feelings to someone else, so patience and respect for boundaries is key.
He does not tolerate any disrespect towards you, even if you try to tell him to ignore the sinner who is catcalling after you when the two of you are walking through the Pride Ring to pick up stuff for the hotel. If it happened at a bar while you’re on a date? Be prepared to have chairs go flying or Husk tearing a new hole in the poor bastard who pissed him off.
He is not a fan of PDA. He has a reputation to uphold in the hotel and on the streets. Behind closed doors, however, he will be more lenient. Cuddles and midday naps are exceptional, with him pressing against your body with his tail loosely coiled around your thigh and one of his wings acting as a shield or even a blanket.
Speaking of feathers and fur, he does need to groom himself periodically, especially when it's molting season. You need to be gentle if you want to help him since his skin can be especially sensitive around this time of the year.
Actions speak a lot louder to him than pretty words. If you show him that you do care for him and will never betray his trust or loyalty, he will return it tenfold. He will do everything in his power to make you as happy as you have made him in this shithole.
Taglist
@angelltheninth
@isuckatwritingsobenice
@selineram3421
@nixie-writes
@dragonempress18
@ceoofdabicorpsensfw
@lbcreations-blog
@chroniccorvus
@food-theorys-blog
#an idyllic novelist#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin husk#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel 2024#hazbin hotel 2019#gn!reader#x reader headcanons#x reader
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okay. i just watched the movie Snakeskin (2001). i bought a physical dvd in the year of our lord 2024 because Taika has 6.5 minutes of screentime in it. and now i'm sitting here trying to process wtf i just watched asjdhfdjsk so here are the highlights (thank you Meow @blakbonnet for going through this experience with me)
first of all, enjoy these screenshots from the trailer (i'm still not sure if they're mandatory disclaimers?):
...but say yes to snake imagery, because there will be a lot of it
we are definitely in 2001. this is extremely apparent throughout the whole movie. but especially from this girl's hair
Taika's character (Nelson) and his girlfriend (Daisy, pictured above) drive around in a repurposed ice cream truck and sell drugs btw. it's called Mr. Trippy.
main character Alice (Melanie Lynskey) is a huge fan of ✨America✨. her best friend is in love with her but she only wants Bad Boys. also said friend's name is Johnny but it's actually Craig
ALSO Craig-slash-Johnny is played by Dean O'Gorman (Fili)??!?!?!?
their hobby is to drive around picking up hitchhikers but only those who look not boring
enter The American. this guy is the most American you have ever seen. americans wish they could be as American as this guy. no one else has ever Americaned harder.
as you can see, i'm not lying. he even says "howdy ma'am" so we're convinced he is a real American
three skinheads are after The American because he stole their drugs (i think). he also stole drugs from Nelson and Daisy, who now owe money and/or drugs to their boss, who also has beef with The American for reasons i'm still not totally sure of
The American not only steals drugs and money, he also has a real gun(!!!) and fucks pretty much everyone?
"darlin'. u gotta earn the raaaiht. ter wear snakeskins 😎"
oh my god the sunglasses emoji just reminded me of the fucking sunglasses oh no i'm not sure i can do this akjsdhjsk this will make sense later i promise
do not learn gun safety from this movie
at one point, there is a whole lotta sheep. we are, after all, in Aotearoa New Zealand. and ok this had the cutest moment of Taika yelling "SHEEPY" out of a car
there's a scene where uhm. uhhh no not gonna describe this i think but. yeah fair warning this movie has some period-typical homophobia let's just say 💀 this is the live reaction:
MOVING ON
if you enjoy the 2000s aesthetic of "look how edgy we are doing drugs" *colorful-haired people on couches in dark club* *echo-y laugh* *hallucinations* *it's mushrooms look it's mushrooms we're doing psychedelics* then this is the movie for you my friend
oh and Alice also did acid at some point while being very "i've totally done drugs before" about it (((doubt)))
GIRL GET UP FROM THAT DIRTY BATHROOM FLOOR
[New Zealand accent] "wow. six and acid." yes she is living all her american dreams as you can see
by nighttime, all three cars (main characters, mr. trippy, and the nazimobile) and the motorcycle (mr. drug boss) have made it pretty far up the mountain, it seems. cute moment between mr. drug boss and nelson. look how :D he is!
but you know a movie with Taika in it needs to have a father figure talk down to him so he gets very 🥺 right after this
lots of shit goes down (i won't spoil too much if by any chance you still want to watch this) and it turns out that the older skinhead guy is the best actor in the movie??
and NOW things get weird
Craig and The American have so much beef by now that they decide to solve it by russian roulette
Alice's reaction to this is something like "ugh, you guys are crazy, i can't watch this 🙄"
like she just walks away?? GIRL THEY'RE AIMING A REAL GUN AT EACH OTHER
she keeps COMPLETELY UNDERREACTING TO WHAT IS HAPPENING like (spoilers from now on) CRAIG IS SHOT AND KILLED and she doesn't even run over and she doesn't even say anything to The American?? WHO SHOT HIM???? he's just standing there??
and then. AND THEN.
ok this is where i fully lost it for several minutes and missed half the following scene. i was fucking HOWLING like actually crying with laughter, i couldn't see or breathe and my partner got worried ksjdhfdjsk ok so here's what happens
they're in the car. craig is obviously very dead. alice is kinda in denial i guess. The American tells her to shut his eyes and she's like why? BECAUSE HE DEAD GIRL!! but she doesn't, she doesn't shut his eyes, no, this is what she does instead
I COULD BARELY MAKE THIS GIF BECAUSE I KEPT LAUGHING TO THE POINT OF TEARS
NOT THE SUNGLASSES ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. THE UNTAPPED MEME POTENTIAL HERE IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS
ANYWAY shortly after this we hear one of the funniest lines in the movie (and it's not even about the shooting and killing of Craig):
"fuck, Seth! this isn't fucking America, you can't just go around shooting everybody!"
oh yeah The American does have a name and it's Seth
i'll just post a few chat screenshots for the next part because i can't really describe it, i promise we're almost at the end
after some incredible visual effects™️, we end with Return of the Sunglasses (and me scaring my cats away because i was sobbing again)
i haven't even really talked about Taika's scenes much (the reason i watched this in the first place) because the ending took me OUT and honestly he is maybe the most normal person in this whole movie. one review (from the trailer) wrote this:
and yeah that may honestly be the best way to describe it. 10/10 movie watching experience, highly recommend. thank you for coming to my snek talk
#snakeskin (2001)#ida.stuff#🐭📓#anyway if you still wanna watch this movie hit me up lmao#i recommend drinking#but seriously i will go to bed now it's past midnight but i had to get this out#taika waititi
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