#not rlly proof read sorry
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cmkren · 1 year ago
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The Arishok and His Hero.
;Da2 Arishok x Fem!HoF
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The Arishok and the HoF once had an intimate but complicated relationship from when he was a Sten. Tensions are rising in Kirkwall, and his mind subconsciously drifts to a simpler time. A time with her.
Unfortunately for him, there’s one thing he’s forgotten.
a/n: erm, whats up !! I remember struggling writing this because I always though the arishok had like … long hair. so when i figured out he didn’t i just made it a plot point to make things sadder. I am genuinely so sad we don’t get to romance sten in dao argh
also erm sorry got my lore wrong LMAO pretend this is an au where dao sten gets the arishok role immediately after returning
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“Well looky you. You aged like fine wine, huh, Sten? Or— I suppose it’s the Arishok now.”
She snarked, a grin on her face but it seemed there was something else behind it. Something deeper, more complex than just two companions reuniting after a long time. That’s all they were, and had been to the outside world. Companions. They didn’t notice the looks, the gentle touches, the desire when one passed the other. Back in the day, that was. Now look at them. Having withered slightly with age.
Mishka had streaks of gray in her hair, though still looking relatively young. Not to mention the barrage of scars on her body— more than when the Arishok knew her. When he had still just been Sten. He changed the most between the two, after all. He was now the leader of the Qunari militia. His hair double the length it was back then, some graying too of course. Wrinkles finally showing up more, more apparent. Long, beautiful horns that Sten lacked back then. Horns she wanted to grab.
“The Hero of Ferelden came to visit. How delightful.” He spoke dryly, making the elf snort and cross her arms. She looked more Dalish now, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Perhaps just a little amused, considering how she used to curse the Dalish as if they were Darkspawn themselves. Perhaps she made some amends with her past and moved on. That would be a first for Mishka. If she had many of those left. The Arishok certainly never expected to see her again, after their departure from one another. Especially after the final fight. Yet here she was.
He sat atop his throne, in the Qunari compound that they had to make due to the misfortune of being stuck in Kirkwall of all cities. Due to his mistake. The stress and tension that’d been building over the last few years, it felt like a pot was going to soon boil over. Being far from Par Vollen didn’t help either— because that meant no Tamassarans. So maybe… that’s why he didn’t call for the Stens around him to apprehend her as she sauntered towards the throne.
His stony stare digging holes into her, watching the familiar movement coming from a woman he used to hold quite close to his chest. Literally and figuratively. The Sten didn’t turn their heads. Maybe it was because he didn’t say anything, or it could have been another reason. He didn’t care. His eyes were only on her. The damned arrogant elf.
The Hero of Ferelden. Small enough for him to tower over, but not fragile that she’d shatter as soon as he put his hand on her waist and squeezed. Definitely not fragile, as she’s shown him dozens of times. That was just when she was starting to hone her skills too, he could only imagine what a decade of hard work and training could do for her. She who sat so languidly in his lap, calloused hand reaching up to caress his face. It made him jolt. That wasn’t the surprising bit. The surprising bit was the way he then keened, and leaned into her touch.
He took in her features. The gnarly burn mark that forever scarred the left side of her face, and travelling to her shoulder. A mark he took upon himself those years ago to heal until she no longer flinched and hissed when he traced his finger over the coarse skin.
Lips that whispered the filthiest things to him. That would spread into a grin when she finally started figuring out how to read him. How to tell what would rile him up and what would absolutely piss him off.
Her hand travelled higher until it tangled itself in his hair, her other hand on his chest. Eyes flitted half closed, looking up at him through long lashes. He who only leaned further down, hardly letting her be the one chasing after him. Instead, he was the one chasing after her. Her touch. Her words.
Her lips parted, putting on display the sharp points she called her teeth. Whenever she raked those across his skin, it felt like a dagger gliding along his body. Little daggers she had in her mouth. “You, Sten,” she breathed out, breath hot against own mouth. His lips parted just the slightest, as if he expected something. Anything.
“Are a useless fucking tool.”
Then there it was. Her hands fell limp. Her head knocked against his own, and the lively body that once sat perched on his lap became limp like a rag doll. The stench of death and charred flesh, the stench of something earthy and dank, the smell of Darkspawn blood.
The top of Fort Drakon. The Archdemon’s corpse on the ground. Next to it, the Hero of Ferelden. She was Grey Warden, to die killing the Archdemon was her purpose. He knew better than anyone— anyone that to stop her from fulfilling that purpose would have made him a hypocrite. So who was he, the man who followed the Qun to the T, who was he to deny her that privilege of purpose he devoted and spoke of? That’s why, while everyone rushed to her side to help fight the Archdemon, he stayed away. He wasn’t there when she drew her last breath. When she fulfilled her purpose.
What of his purpose?
As he stared at the Asala she returned to him. The weapon he killed for when he found out it was missing. For the first time in a while, after that fight. Her death. He questioned it. He questioned it all. The Qun. His life. His faiths. His purpose.
Suddenly, she appeared before him. The Archdemon looming from behind, its breath puffing out smoke with every breath it took. The sky a bewitching and venomous purple, Mishka’s lifeless eyes stared into his. “Tal-Vashoth. Your faith wavered. Your people should have thrown you out,” a storm brew above, “just like you did to me.”
A flash and a bang.
Then nothing.
When vision came to him once again, he was staring up at his tent. Surrounded by handmade, quality cushions all for the Arishok. His bed roll a mess, no doubt from him tossing and turning. His body slightly damp from sweat, as he pushed himself up and off the ground. Locks of hair falling in front of him, as he breathed in and out.
She was dead. She has been for ten years. That had been a figment of his imagination. Unbeknownst to him, it was the guilt that had been building up for a decade. Guess it finally spilled over during this time of high stress. He kneeled, quickly dressing himself and making himself look presentable. Anything to take his mind off of… that.
“Arishok. The diplomat from the Viscount has finally arrived.” Spoke a Sten outside his tent. The Arishok only grunted, right. He had visitors today. More to add to his migraine, he supposed. He slinked out of his tent, eyes squinting just the slightest as the sunlight hit his vision. His head throbbed. He could feel it, still feel her touch. The way she pulled on his hair, so close to the protruding horns adorned with gold bands.
“You know, you’d look absolutely dashing with long hair. I’ve always loved that look on men. Especially you.”
Spoken to him, by her during a drunken night. Oghren convinced her to drink with him, and that made her ten times the more honest than she usually was. Which was honestly a feat. There was certainly more to that memory, but he’d rather leave it untouched. The Arishok looked back to his tent. He supposed a change in his appearance wasn’t criminal.
•••
“What should I say, hm? Fenris, you know a bit of Qun right? C’mon, give me some phrases!”
“I’m afraid learning them right here right now when we’ve already entered the compound would be a bit of poor taste, Hawke. Should have asked me before we came.”
“D’awh, s’okay Hawke! Sure elfy there will gladly aid you in translating some of our delightful conversation topics of the day.”
“Careful— The elf might just end up with us gutted. You know how he is.”
Four pairs of eyes landed on him when he finally walked out. A blonde mage, a white haired elf, a dwarf with a cross bow, and a human. A human with..
“Speak. Now.” His voice came out as a rumble, perhaps with a little more animosity than needed. Yet he could not help it. He sliced off his hair moments before coming out so he wouldn’t have to have a constant reminder of that woman— and here another one was. With similar hair colour and skin, not to mention facial markings as well. And an arrogant little smirk on her face.
Even in death she found ways to piss him off.
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sincerelybubbles · 6 months ago
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it's a date || spencer reid x reader
part 2
warnings: cannon-typical violence/mentions of murder and kidnapping, slow burn, fluff!, early seasons spencer, not proof read
word count: 6.1k
You sigh and crack your knuckles, staring down at the pot simmering on the stove. You know that the sauce would be okay if you left it for a few minutes, did something else, but you remain standing, uselessly stirring it every few seconds. Truthfully, you’re bored. Your mind shifts from cooking to work tomorrow, itching to pull out your documents and scan through them one more time. But you know you shouldn’t, advise about work-life balance tugging at your attention. 
You’re debating if you should pick up a book and try to read, something light to take your mind off of the day, when a knock sounds from the front door. Your dog, Penny, a lovely golden retriever you rescued a few years ago, lets out a weak woof before slowly standing and trotting to the door. She’s old, more grey than golden, but she never fails to answer the door with you. 
You turn the stove off and move the pot off of the burner, wiping your hands as you walk, when another knock echoes through the hallway. It’s sharp, official, loud. The sound fills you with anxiety. You stand on your toes to look out of the peephole.
“Hello?” You ask through the door, not recognizing the men standing outside and seeing no package in sight. 
“Hello, Jason Gideon, FBI, could we have a word?” The older man says, voice stern but not unkind. 
You open the door without unlatching the chain, peering out through the crack. “FBI?”
Jason Gideon, the one who spoke, pulls out his badge first. The lankier man next to him follows in suit. Your eyes linger on him for a second longer than the other agent, taking in his toussled brown hair. You scan the badges for a second before shutting the door to undo the chain. 
“Sorry, you can’t be too careful, you know?”
“Oh, we know that all too well,” Gideon says good-naturedly, “it’s good to be cautious.”
He asks your name, you give it, and nods sharply, looking to his partner. “Well, like I said, I’m Jason Gideon with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, FBI, and this is my partner Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“Well, come on in, Agent Gideon and Dr. Reid,” you say, waving them both in and shutting the door. 
“Just Gideon is fine.”
Dr. Reid sends you a tight lipped smile as he walks in, adjusting his shirt and otherwise avoiding your gaze. He seems nervous. 
“Would you two like something to drink while you tell me why you’re here? Coffee, tea, water?” You ask, twisting the dishcloth between your hands as you lead them inside.
“I wouldn’t say no to some coffee,” Gideon says. You nod and turn to Dr. Reid, who is staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. 
“Oh, yeah, coffee for me too, please.”
“Of course, have a seat,” you say, waving them to the small table in your kitchen and moving to prepare their drinks. Neither of them sit.
“How well do you know your neighbors?” Gideon asks as you start the coffee. 
You shrug. “As well as anyone does these days, I guess. I wave when I drive past them, smile when they’re out front at the same time. Why, has something happened? I saw the police cars earlier, on my way home from work, but I haven’t heard anything else.”
“Yes ma’am,” Dr. Reid says, even though he looks your age, maybe even a few years older. “Your neighbor across the street was murdered last night, Mrs. Furgison, and her eight-year-old son is missing. Did you hear anything?”
You fall still, facing away from the two officers. Numb, you shake your head, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t home last night. I was watching my niece for my sister.” You turn around to face them, leaning back against the counter. “But there are cameras outside, I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?” “Yes,” Gideon confirms with a nod. “Would you be okay if we took a look at the last few weeks of footage if you have it?”
“You want to see if he’s been visiting before last night,” you mumble, nodding. “Yes, of course.”
“Do you work in law enforcement?” Dr. Reid asks, the question erupting from him like he couldn’t hold it back. “You’re shockingly calm and seem to know what we’re going to ask before we get to it.”
“Oh, yeah,” you chuckle, waving a hand in the air and turning to pull the pot of coffee out. “BAU, of course, you’d see right through me. I’m a victim liaison. I read through this process hundreds of times a week. Sugar?”
“No, thanks,” Gideon answers as Dr. Reid blurts out, “Yes, please.”
You set the mugs on the kitchen counter along with a container of sugar.
“Help yourself, I’ll grab my laptop to get those files for you.”
When you come back, laptop in tow, Gideon and Dr. Reid are having a hushed conversation, both holding their mugs of coffee. You round the corner slowly but loudly, aware that sometimes agents can be jumpy. Gideon smiles at you while Dr. Reid looks over sharply. 
It fits, given their ages and presumably how long each have been in the field. You try to send him a reassuring smile. He reciprocates but still looks obviously awkward, fixing his hair and taking a sip of coffee.
“Would you like me to put the files on a USB? Email them somewhere? Or just,” you motion with the computer, offering it over. 
“I can take it,” Dr. Reid offers, “send the files to Garcia.”
You let him, passing him the computer easily. With your job, the government is already elbows deep in that laptop, anyway; you have nothing to hide. 
You watch as Dr. Reid begins typing away on your computer, leaning over the table and resting his forearms on the edge. 
Both of the agents are dressed professionally: button-down shirts, slacks, dress shoes. Guns ready at the hip.
“You like to cook?” Gideon asks, nodding toward your forgotten pasta on the stove. 
“Yes and no,” you admit, chuckling and turning your attention to him. “It always tastes better than takeout but it’s hard to get the motivation. Are you hungry? Can I offer you anything else?”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”
“Of course. I know how overworked you lot can be.” You cross your arms and lean back against your counter. “What about you? Do you cook?”
“Not as often as I should,” he admits, smiling sadly. “Victim liaison, you said?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem a little young.” “Could say the same about him.” You nod at Dr. Reid who doesn’t hear you, too focused on his work. “But I guess drive and pretty much no social life can get you anywhere,” you admit with a laugh. 
“Garcia should have the files in a minute,” Dr. Reid interrupts, looking up from your laptop.
“I’ll give her a call.”
He steps out with a nod to you, walking back into the front hallway of your small home and leaving you alone with the doctor. 
He opens his mouth to say something before his eyes focus over your shoulder and his attention is stolen. “Sorry,” he says, moving past you and into your living room, toward your bookshelf. “Is that a Russian copy of Crime and Punishment?” He asks, brushing his finger over the spine of the book. 
“Oh, yeah, it is.” You follow him, staring up at your own bookshelf like you’ve never seen it before. It’s crammed full of books. There are more filling your bedroom down the hall as well. “It’s a slow read, I have to use a lexicon a lot of the time, but I sort of like the work. Translating’s a hobby of mine, I guess. When I have time. Sorry, that might be weird.”
“No, it’s not weird at all! Not to me, at least. Are you using a Dictionary-based lexicon? Can I see it? I have one that I love. I haven’t read much Russian but I have one for Greek. They’re rarely used anymore, falling out of popularity with the creation of the internet where everything is readily available to just search up, but I find them fascinating and I’ve never seen one for Russian before.”
He talks enthusiastically with his hands. His eyes shine, the interest lighting up his face. You think, before you remember the reason why he’s there, that he’s actually quite handsome. You become slightly breathless at the realization. You don’t really notice people like this often. But, towering above you, buttoned shirt pushed up to show his forearms and a self-concious smile stretching across his face, you’re a little flustered.
You take a breath, remembering that your neighbor is dead and a little boy is missing, sending Dr. Reid a small smile and motioning behind you.
“It’s in my office if you want to go look at it. I prefer it to just typing out the stuff I don’t know — mostly because I don’t have a Russian keyboard — and it’s easier to learn when you have to research it.”
“I would actually love –”
“Reid,” Gideon interrupts, ending his call, “Garcia got the files, we have to go.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“Thank you so much for your help,” Gideon says, walking toward you and offering his hand. “And for the coffee. So sorry to have interrupted your cooking.”
“Anytime detective,” you say, shaking his hand and smiling up at him, “always happy to help. I can give you my card if you need anything else?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
You rush to your bag to pull out one of your cards and hand it to Gideon before turning to offer Dr. Reid your hand. 
“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Reid.”
He takes your hand firmly. “Spencer’s fine,” he says, stumbling over his words slightly but still smiling. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime,” you repeat, letting them out and returning to your sad pasta. 
Your mind wonders, not to the murder or kidnapping, but to Spencer Reid. Wide brown eyes, tousled hair pushed out of his face, a sweet smile. Smart, too. Way too smart. 
You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to dating, you hadn’t lied to Gideon when you said you don’t make time for a social life, dating included, but you do know that an interest in a too-smart profiler might spell bad news. 
Still, as you portion out your meal, you can’t help but think that you’re feeling awfully motivated to return to working on Crime and Punishment. You don’t lie to yourself about the origins of this sudden spark of motivation, but you do rationalize it. What’s the harm in a fleeting crush, then? Especially if it gives you the push to finally finish one of the many projects hanging on your ever-growing list?
You suppose you might see them arround the office if they’re working in this jurisdiction, but then he’ll be gone and it’ll fade away. In the meantime, you make yourself a plate of food and settle down in your living room with the book and lexicon.
||||
“Well, that certainly poses an interesting problem,” you hear Cheif Saunders say as you walk into the police department the next morning, arms full of files ready for sorting. 
You round the corner to escape this attention but aren’t fast enough and he calls you over by name. Cringing, you turn on your heel and are faced, once again, with Gideon and Spencer. With them are two more men and two girls, all intimidating and confident. 
All FBI, if you had to wager a bet. 
“Morning,” you say, nodding to Gideon and Spencer respectively. “Nice to see you two again.”
“You’ve met?” The tall man next to Gideon asks, pointing the question to Spencer. He grins, white teeth overtaking his dark, handsome face. He reaches his hand out to shake yours, “Morgan, nice to meet you.”
You introduce yourself, explain your position, and receive introductions from JJ, Elle, and Hotchner as well. 
“Where did you meet our friends?” Chief Saunders asks, folding his hands in front of him and setting an accusatory glare on you. “Still preening for a new job?”
“No sir,” you say, uncomfortable. The chief is often cold with you, refusing to acknowledge your knowledge or work. When he found that you were looking to transfer stations to the one a district over, he’d still thrown a fit, though. You guess he can’t ignore how well your numbers reflect on him as easily as he deflects your accomplishments to your face. 
“We stopped by to get access to her cameras, she lives across the street from the Furgison’s,” Gideon explains, watchful eyes glancing between you and the chief. 
“They proved to be surprisingly useful,” Spencer interrupts. “We now know the make, model, and color of the unsubs car as well as his general height. Garcia is still trying to make out plates, but we are able to confirm at least pieces of our profile with the information.”
“You live across the street?” The chief asks, still staring at you. You shift your weight, holding the files closer to your chest. 
“Yes, sir. In a duplex.”
“Then, fellas, I’ve found the solution to our problem. You’ll set up with our little liaison, then.”
“Sorry?” You ask, startled. 
“We have reason to believe that the unsub is returning to the crime scenes after the police have left the area and allowed the family to return. But, if we know our guy, and we think we do,” Elle says, begrudingly, “he’s smart. He’s going to notice if we’re camped out in a car. And, in a residential street, it’s much harder to hide in a building.”
“So, you’ll have the opportunity to make yourself useful,” Chief Saunders chuckles, laying a heavy hand on your shoulder and shaking you.
“Only if you’re comfortable,” Gideon adds, glancing at you with a patient expression. 
“Yes, it would be a complete invasion of your privacy, agents would be there twenty-four-seven monitoring. We would only stay in the front areas of the house, of course, but you needn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. There are always other ways.” Agent Hotchner fixes you with a level look, voice sincere. 
“Oh, she’s comfortable, aren’t ya?” The chief says, shaking you again with a wide smile. 
“Yes, of course,” you say, nodding at the others. You mean it, you’ll do whatever you can to help out, you just wish you could’ve made the choice yourself.
“This way, you don’t have to worry about confidentiality, either. Little Miss has full access to ongoing investigations, she’ll be there for all of the briefings and such.”
You nod, discretely moving a step back so his hand falls from your shoulder. 
“Yes, I’m meant to be kept up to date with all ongoing, violent investigations where and if possible to act as a bridge between law enforcement and victims and families of victims. Especially those with children involved — I should have mentioned we would cross paths again last night, I just wasn’t thinking.”
“Yes, we’ve worked with our fair share of liaisons,” Gideon chuckles, looking over his shoulder at JJ who gives him a small smile. 
“Then it’s all set. You boys let me know when you have your profile ready.” Elle watches him walk off with a hard stare, obviously just as rubbed wrong by him as you are. 
“Lovely man, isn’t he?” You joke, trying to make the situation lighthearted. 
“We’ve interacted before. Our headquarters isn’t actually far from here, just a twenty-minute drive, we’re up in Quantico. He doesn’t get any better with time, though.” Agent Hotchner shakes his head, turning to grab a file off of the desk behind him. 
“Well, he always forgets to offer his office space to visitors so I usually keep mine available. It’s quieter and there’s a whiteboard, follow me.”
||||
Since you started renting the small duplex by yourself, you’ve never felt awkward in your own home. Now, though, you feel odd taking up your own space. 
The majority of the Quantico team is set up in your front room with laptops, cameras, and microphones. 
“We don’t know exactly how long he usually takes to come back to scenes, only that it typically happens within the week,” Elle explains to you apologetically. 
“No problem — comes with the job, no?” You say, smiling and trying to brush it off. Elle laughs gently, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head. 
“No, not really. I wouldn’t be thrilled if these boys set up shop in my house, you’re taking this with much more grace than I would.”
You shrug, crossing your arms and tilting your head from side to side. “I won’t act like it’s normal, it is pretty weird having you guys here, but if it helps you catch this guy, why would I say no? Better me than some random civilian.” You hesitate, scrunching up your nose, “Better now than waiting for him to kill someone else.”
“Much more compassionate than I am,” Elle jokes, shaking her head and walking away as Gideon calls her name. 
The main problem, you think, is that the duplex isn’t very big. The part of the team that’ll be staying with you — Spencer, Gideon, Elle, and Morgan — have all settled in. They won’t come and go, their car is firmly parked in your garage, and they’ll keep a low profile to prevent the unsub from noticing their presence. You’re meant to come and go as normal to keep suspicion low in case he’s cased the entire neighborhood. But, with only two bedrooms, a baths, and a small office, you’re feeling slightly cramped. Whenever you turn, you feel like you’re coming toe-to-toe with someone. It’s awkward, considering you’re very used to living alone. 
Still, you’re determined to be a good host, so you set to preparing lunch for everyone. They’d insisted that you didn’t need to, but you really don’t know what else to do. You’d been given the day to help them all settle in and provide assistance wherever possible, but there isn’t much to do other than wait. 
You’re pulling out the things for sandwiches when Spencer walks in. 
“Hey, do you have an extra ethernet cable? Garcia thinks that a direct line would be better,” he asks. 
“Maybe, you’re free to check in the office if you want. If you need, you can always pull the one from my desktop,” you say, shutting the fridge and trying to balance everything in your arms in one trip.
“What’re you doing?” Spencer asks, reaching forward to grab the ham and mayo from the top of your stack. 
“Making sandwiches!”
“You really don’t have to. We can have food ordered, it’s okay.”
“I wanna make myself useful, I feel weird just standing around watching you guys work,” you say, dumping the materials on the counter. “I hope you guys like ham or turkey, it’s all I have.”
“You are being useful, though. You’ve let us set up in your home, how much more useful can you be?”
“I could provide food as well,” you say, sending him a smile. “Ham or turkey?”
Spencer looks exasperated, setting the ham and mayo down and shaking his head. Nervously, he uses both of his hands to push his hair back. “Either. Either is fine, thank you.”
You start to prepare the sandwiches, Spencer watching and still looking like he wants to say something. 
“Hey, Reid, I found one, we’re all set,” Morgan says, rounding the corner and waving the white chord in the air. “Oh, what’re you making?” He asks, stepping closer and leaning over your shoulder. 
“Sandwiches. I was asking Spence if you guys like ham and turkey but he wasn’t being helpful.”
“Well, Spence can be like that,” Morgan says, throwing Spencer a smirk over his shoulder. “But we’d appreciate anything.” “I was trying to tell her,” Spencer interrupts, “that it’s entirely unnecessary for her to make us lunch. She’s already done enough for us letting us set up here. The effort is appreciated, of course, obviously, you just shouldn’t have to. Because we’re already intruding.” He trails off as Morgan sends him a look, raising his eyebrow. 
“Well, I, for one, appreciate the offer,” Morgan says, leaning on the counter and smiling down at you. You laugh at him. 
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it! I do,” he says, turning to you and holding one of his hands up in a placating way, “I just don’t think, it’s very kind of course, I just –”
You cut him off, taking pity, “He’s fucking with you. Relax.”
||||
“I just can’t believe that you’re actually processing any of what you’re reading at that speed!” You say, throwing your arms up. 
“I actually am. Speed reading, when done right, doesn’t take away from comprehension at all. Plus, with my eidetic memory, I can always think back and process later if I need to,” Spencer explains. 
“Fine, you’re understanding what you’re reading in a general sense, but where’s the enjoyment in it? How can you possibly understand all the intricacies of the writing, what the author is doing, and appreciate the characters and their growth if you don’t take your time with it?” “I tend to focus my reading moreso on informational writing, so that’s not often a problem. And when I do read something fictional or with more nuance, I’m never lacking in any way when it comes to my understanding of the content, even when speed reading.”
“So you’re not actually taking the time to have fun reading is what I’m hearing.”
“Reading is inherently fun when you’re learning something, though,” he says, lips quirked in a slight smirk and a line forming between his eyebrows as he looks down at you. The look is so disarming that you find yourself deflating a little. 
You’re in your living room, a few books scattered on the coffee table between you two, debating the merits of each one. 
“I dunno,” you say, argument leaving you as you become distracted. 
“Just say I’m right! You know I am,” Spencer says with a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning toward you slightly, hands spread. 
You thought he was cute when he was shy, bumbling in your house yesterday, but after a few hours to warm up to each other, you can’t deny you really like him. 
The only thing that completely blocks the disappointment that they’ll all soon be leaving is that their UnSub will be caught when they have to leave. Your community and neighborhood will be better off for it. 
“No, I still think you’re wrong. Sure, you understand what you’re reading but I just don’t buy that you could possibly enjoy it in the same way that I am!” You’re trying your damndest to regain your confidence, shaking your head side-to-side with a wide smile to erase the vision of his own smirk, his hands, his rolled up sleeves from your mind. “I mean, nothing beats curling up with a book and taking your time with it.” “Well,” Spencer interrupts, lifting a finger, “how can you say if you’ve never tried my way?”
“Speed reading? I’ve done it, actually.” You shrug at his hesitating look, suddenly feeling vulnerable under the weight of his eyes. 
“Really? What method? What was your fastest time? What —” Morgan cuts off his questioning by walking in and calling for him. 
“Gideon wants you to take a look at something.” “Ah. Breaks over.” Spencer stands from where he was sitting on your armchair, brushing his hands off on his pants. He points at you while he walks away, “We’re not finished, though!”
“Oh?” Morgan asks when he’s gone, raising his eyebrows at you. “Unfinished business?” You scoff, moving to pick up the books you pulled out to talk to Spencer about. 
You like Morgan. He’s an easy one to like and he feels like the bigger brother you don’t have with his easy smiles. The chaos in your house hasn’t been easy, you appreciate his consistent presence to lighten the atmosphere. 
You’ve actually come to like all of them. Elle with her stories, Gideon with his dry smiles, and Spencer. Really, you just like Spencer. You’re an adult, you’re not ashamed to admit it. Just, only to yourself, lest you mess something up and make him uncomfortable. 
“You know, I can’t really say I haven’t seen him this excited before because the kid gets excited about everything but,” Morgan shrugs, pushing himself off of the wall he’s been leaning on and coming to sit next to you, “you do seem to get along well.”
“Oh, yeah, Spencer’s nice,” you say, standing to put the books away. 
“Nice,” Morgan muses, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms. 
“He is! You all are.” You laugh when Morgan raises his eyebrows again. “I’m being serious, I would kill to work on a team like yours. You all actually work together.”
“We have to.”
“It certainly works out better when you do.”
“Yeah, your boss is a real dick. He usually walk all over you like that?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you sit down, pulling your legs under you. “More or less I guess. My personal opinion is that he’d like more men on the team and … no women,” you joke, giving him a what can you do? look, smiling sadly. 
“And you tried to transfer?”
“Stop profiling me,” you say, eyes narrowing. Morgan smiles, all teeth.
“Not profiling, just remembering him saying something like that when we talked at the station.”
“Oh,” you say, slouching back. “That’s considerably less impressive.” “Ouch.”
“Yeah, yeah, I wound you. But I did look into transferring a while back. I’ve been trying to move up for a while and keep getting blocked. But, no surprise, I got blocked again.” You raise an imaginary glass, cheers-ing with the air, “Go government!”
“That’s fucked,” Morgan says, letting out a low whistle. “So you don’t want to stay a victims liasion?”
“No, I do. But it’s not my only job right now. It’s a little complicated, but our office is too small to have a head liaison. So I really just run around filling gaps wherever I can until I’m needed to do my actual job. I’d love to do just liaison work, I really like working with the public. Feels like I’m actually helping people, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” “Hey,” you say suddenly, not wanting to keep the mood somber (or ignore the FBI agent in your house with your silly woes while a murder investigation is underway), “you want some tea? Coffee?”
“Sure doll, I’ll take some coffee,” Morgan says, a confused smile taking over his face, “if you’re offering.”
||||
“It’s actually pretty interesting,” Spencer is saying, flipping through files and leaning over to show Elle something. 
“Oh, I bet. Nothing better than vicious murder,” you say, dry, rolling a pen between your fingers. 
“I mean the process behind deciphering their reasoning,” Spencer says, shrugging. 
“I just don’t know how you look past it to see anything other than the violence,” you say, shuddering. 
He and Elle have taken the night shift and are giving you a rundown on profiling. You’ve worked with profilers before, but they’re small-town cops, more interested in closing cases than being scientific, or, at times, even correct. 
“How do you look past a crying mother after her daughter has been murdered to get the information you need?” Elle asks. “I’ve worked with hundreds of victims, I think I’m pretty good at it, but your records show that you’re one of the best.”
You heat at the praise, shrugging your shoulders. “I wouldn’t say I look past them. I actually try to get into their shoes to figure out what I can say to get through to them.”
“Often the victims families know more than they think. Every bit of information they can give us or the police about the victim only lead us closer to the unsub. We often rely on your job to get important information out of victims and families that we wouldn’t otherwise have. It requires tact, empathy, and extreme emotional control,” Spencer explains, setting the file down and brushing his hair back. 
“Well, thank you?”
“I think he’s trying to say what we do is similar,” Elle explains, “it’s just the opposite side of it.”
“I’m still not following — but I’m definitely not built to be a profiler, that’s for sure.”
“But you could be. You profile in your own way. We look at the bad guys, the killing patterns, stuff like that,” Spencer leans forward, enthusiastic. “You just profile less intense people. Gather information from them, figure out what they need. Get in their shoes, to use your words. You use their actions, small phrases, and what you can gather from their homes to approach them the best way, no?”
“Looking at their clothes and body language and stuff, sure.”
“We do exactly that with crime scenes. Recognize patterns. Just like you can’t imagine seeing past the violence, some of us can’t imaigne having to see past the emotion of someone dealing with fresh loss.” Elle smiles. “You’d probably make a really good profiler. You’re just a better victims advocate.”
You consider that, weighing their words. “Sure, maybe,” you admit. “I still think it’s kinda like magic, though. Your knowledge, your intuition, your teamwork. It’s cool.”
“Thank you,” Elle says kindly. 
Spencer jumps back into his explanation of the types of murder-kidnappers, musing with Elle again about their profile. Their ability to constantly return to the same evidence over and over without any hesitation is still amazing to you. Despite what Elle said, you’re sure you’d get bored. 
You’re even more sure that it would stick to you in a way that working with the victims never did. You visit crime scenes, sure, but you never do everything in your power to commit every bit of them to memory. 
As they talk, you move toward the window and move the curtains over slightly. It’s the middle of the night, the second the team has spent in your home, and you’re curious how much longer this unsub will take to be caught. 
You’ve done your best to keep to your usual schedule and luckily it’s not unusual for you to be up late. The movement behind the curtains won’t be suspicious, so you stand and peek out curiously at the home across the street. 
Penny sighs from her bed in the living room, snoring softly. She’s taken a liking to your guests who are always willing to give her attention and scraps of food. 
The Furgison house bigger than yours, a family home with a large backyard. It’s a faded blue, lightened by the sun, with a white door. Theres a dim porch light that’s been left on, throwing yellow shaddows across the street. 
You swear you see a curtain move in the window and your entire body freezes, breath stolen from your lungs. 
“Hey guys?” You say, dead quiet, as you see the curtains flutter again. Small, nearly inperceptable movement. Greys and blacks angainst more greys and blacks. 
“Yeah?” Elle asks, still reading over the file with Spencer. 
“You’re sure that nobodys gone in tonight?”
“Certain,” Elle says, moving quickly to stand next to you. “Why?”
“Curtains moved,” you say, nodding toward the house. 
“Maybe the AC was left on?” Elle suggests and you shake your head. 
“No, we would’ve noticed it before now. They have no animals, the house should be empty.”
Your heart is racing as Spencer joins you at the window. 
“You sure you saw it move?” He asks, moving to stand behind you, just out of sight at the window, a hand pressed to your back. Gentle pressure, just his fingertips, that makes you siffen even more. He moves his hand, whispering an apology. 
You wish he hadn’t. 
Your mind spins, distracted for a moment, shaking your head again. 
“Yes, I’m certain.”
“Go get Morgan and Gideon,” Spencer tells you, sharing a look with Elle. 
||||
You follow the team out, despite their insistence that you don’t have to, holding your own handgun out and following the light Morgan casts. 
You live in a relatively sleepy neighborhood. Shared duplexes and little houses line the streets, most with little flowerbeds out front. The Furgison house is no exception: it’s a little blue house with rose bushes out front. It backs the small patch of wood that runs along the length of the highway. 
Heart racing and head light from adrenaline, you stay out front to watch for any movement inside while Morgan and Hotch creep around one side of the house, Spencer and Elle take the other side. 
“Back here,” you faintly hear Morgan say through your earpiece. “The cellar door is open. It was deadlocked last time.”
You sitffen, readjusting your grip on your gun. 
“Wasn’t it cleared, though, when we were here last?” Elle asks. 
“Yeah, but he could’ve snuck in through the woods — there’s no telling.”
“Didn’t we position police cars on the highway?” Elle again. You can imagine them all standing behind the house, guns drawn. It’s intersting to hear them communicate so efficiently, voices low. 
“We’ll worry about it later. Morgan, you take the lead, I’ll take the rear, Elle stay out here.”
For a long few seconds, you hear Morgan, Spencer, and Hotch begin to clear the basement, until you’re jolted out of the repetitive “clear!”s by Hotch yelling, “FBI, put your hands up!”
The next few minutes turn into a whirlwind as police cars arrive and Morgan drags the UnSub out of the house by his handcuffed arms. 
The Furgison boy comes out next, disheveled and passed to the paramedics in the back of an ambulance. Once you see Hotch, Spencer, and Elle are okay as well, you jump into action, going to sit with the boy and comfort him. Morgan is there, too, crouched down to talk to the kid. 
“You’re all good now,” he’s saying, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “And my friend here is going to make sure that you see your dad as soon as possible.” Morgan gestures to you and you nod at the little boy. 
The sight of him makes your chest ache: he’s scrawny with wide brown eyes and a mop of curls on the top of his head. 
“Agent Morgan is right, your dad is going to meet us at the hospital.”
The boy doesn’t say anything, shaking under his emergency blanket. 
“I’ll ride with you in the ambulance, too, and that’ll be fun, right?” You ask, jumping up to sit next to him. Slowly and sluggish the boy rests his head on your shoulder, still shivering. You wrap an arm around him before mouthing ‘I’ve got him’ to Morgan. He gives you a small sile, waves at the boy, and goes to join his team. 
After being checked over again by the paramedics, the boy falls asleep quickly in the hospital, holding his dads hand. You’re leaving the room, shutting the door with a soft click, when you see Spencer sitting in the hallway. 
“How is he?” Spencer asks, standing up at the sight of you. 
“He’s okay, some minor bruises and scrapes, dehydrated but on an IV. They’re just happy to be back together.”
“That’s good,” Spencer says, falling quiet and looking away. 
“And, hey, you guys caught the bad guy — now you all get to go home!”
“Yeah,” Spencer says, turning to look at you again, chuckling slightly without any heart behind it. 
“Are you not excited?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 
“It’s always nice coming back home after a trip, even one as close to home as this one is. But it’s a little bittersweet.”
“How so?”
You practically see Spencer gathering his courage, straightening his shoulders and sending you a small but genuine smile. 
“Well, we have some unfinished business, remember? And you never showed me your lexicon.”
“Well,” you say, smiling, “you’ll just have to keep in touch, then. Maybe we can get dinner?”
“Yeah. Yes, of course. Dinner.” Spencer is fully grinning now, eyes squinting with the force of it. You can’t help but mirror him, laughing a little. “Well, I do have a car to catch. I just wanted to check on him and say goodbye.”
“Well, goodbye for now Dr. Reid.”
“Goodbye,” he says, smiling at you for a second longer before turning to walk to the exit. He makes it to the doors before he hesitates, one hand on the handle. He stands there, still, for a moment before turning around and asking, “Dinner, like a date, right?”
Giddy, your smile only widens as you nod. “I would really like that, if you’re asking, yeah.”
“I’m asking.”
“Okay, then it’s a date.”
i wanted more to happen here but then i got this far and still had so much more i could write about these two aahhh
lmk if u want a pt 2 bc i kind of have ideas :) tysm for reading!!
1K notes · View notes
purerae · 1 year ago
Note
Hii! I love your work!! Could you do a halloween party imagine with any of your characters? or all of them meeting our poor y/n, it'd make a cool crossover
Free form however you like!!!
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YANDERE!HAREM X FEM READER
HALLOWEEN PARTY // AU IMAGINE.
warnings ;; mostly crack, yandere behaviour, male yandere(s), female yandere, mentions of drinking, demon summoning (silas), mentions of blackmail (none to Y/N), alternate universe, not canon to anyone's plot. 
a/n ;; Hi Anon! I know halloween is over but this is such a good idea i couldn’t miss out on it!! By the way, in each one of the yandere stories, Y/N has a slightly different personality. So I wasn't sure  whether you wanted me to do multiple Y/N’s or just one. So I decided to combine the personalities into one. Good luck<3 (please let me know if there are any mistakes.)
CLICK HERE FOR MY MASTERLIST (intro to all the yanderes)
╰────༺♡༻────╯
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Hopeless. You felt hopeless as your left arm was dragged around like a piece of meat by the girl no one swore to mess with
“Come on babe~! Wear the angel wings, we have to be matching!” Reina grits her teeth as she attempts to place the wings onto your unwilling back. The fire headed girl gives up with a scoff in her throat before walking over to your mirror and reapplying her dark red lipstick, adjusting the horns that perfectly matched with her crimson wavy hair. 
How did she even get into Y/Ns house in the first place?
You remember pretty clearly. Today is the 31st of October. You were well aware that it was halloween and perfectly content with staying inside your humble abode. You’d buy a bunch of bulk cheap candy and scarf it down whilst watching some classic horror movies. Not enough to scare you, but to make you physically cringe.
That was the plan, Perfect right? There would be nothing to stop you from having a peaceful night of binge watching shitty films.
Apart from the three vastly different individuals who were all pining over you. Though they were complete opposites, they all had a way grinding your gears and irritating you to no end. 
Reina, the delinquent who made your life as the school president 10x worse. She’d constantly hang around you during lunch and break, surrounded by her delinquent friends who’d make jokes you wouldn’t get but would laugh in fear of getting made fun of. Not to mention the lessons you’d have to miss in order to supervise her during the detentions she had purposely got.  You think you spend more time with her then you spend eating the gross lunch your school provides.
Kieran, the playboy who suddenly switched up his entire role once he realised you weren’t interested in him like the others were. God, if only you pretended like you were. Maybe that would’ve stopped him from bothering you in all your science classes with his weird sexual jokes or flirty overbearing personality. Yeah he was a bit funny and maybe he sometimes made your day with his stupid jokes but that came crashing down once he would say his tenth pick up line to you all in one lesson. 
And then there’s Alex, the jock who’s the captain of the football team, a tad bit stupid  but still had the personality of the literal sun, which made him the most tolerable but still pretty overwhelming for your average dream life.  He was the last one to pop up in your weird harem, he stuck around you like a lost puppy once he realised you didn’t like his team. “I’ll make sure you like me, no matter what!” — were his exact words. 
These individuals had a very high reputation in school, most people liked them and often idolised them. So, why were they all vying for your attention? People would go to great lengths to be in your shoes, yet all you desired was to lead an ordinary student's life.
Your internal monologue was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of your phone, and you didn't even have a moment to guess who might be calling before the sound reached your ears (You would've had two guesses). -- In response, Reina let out an exasperated groan and struts over to you.
She confidently picks up your phone and shuts it off before snapping her fingers in your face.
“How have you still not put the wings on.. god what would you do without me!”  If you didn’t know any better, from the tone of her voice you’d think she was annoyed. But in reality you noticed the glint in her eyes. She was genuinely pleased that she had gotten to help you. Happy that you had to ‘rely’ on her.
“Probably live a peaceful life” You murmur under your breath, not realising the close proximity of you two until she snaps her sharp eyes to your tired gaze.
"Excuse me?" The green-eyed girl arched her eyebrows, her lips forming a grimace of annoyance. 
“I said I would probably live a very sad life.” You quickly defer, letting out a sigh of relief once she relaxes her eyebrows and shows you a soft smirk.
 Reina grabs her bag and sprays perfume onto her body, walking over to your bedroom door before abruptly stopping, throwing her arms up. “Come on then! We can't be too fashionably late~” You curse whoever invented halloween parties, and trail behind her. 
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Just ten minutes into the party, and you were already contemplating grabbing that cowboy-clad stranger’s prop gun and pretending to shoot yourself with it.  Music boomed against your ears, drawing out any coherent thought as the smoke from Reinas cigarette mingles in the air. It was as if your personal space ceased to exist, with the red haired girl's body pressing against yours, her presence enveloping you. The sensation became overwhelming, the close proximity sent shivers down your spine. You had no ability to escape, seeing as the delinquent had her friends form a tight circle around you both, acting as protective guards you didn't need or want. There was no room to escape for you, too intimidated to say a word. 
“Hey Y/N!! Is that you?!” A loud voice shouted amidst the music, crowd and smoke. Reinas whole friend group snaps towards the noise, seeing who dared to interrupt the leader with her ‘beloved’. Despite Alex being faced with gnarly stares, all he could see was his cutie dressed like an angel. He settles his drink down on a nearby table, exchanges hurried farewells with his football teammates, and rushes his way towards you.  
The tall friendly giant had no struggles breaking the circle you were trapped in. It was like the sun beaming past a bunch of angsty rain clouds, two things you usually dreaded. But in that moment, you found yourself silently praising the towering, 6 '6 human puppy as he enveloped you in a massive bear hug.
 As he released you, his strong arms remained on your shoulders, and he beamed at you with eyes that formed crescent moon shapes.
He stuttered an apology for the sudden physical contact before staring at you up and down with his doe like eyes and a massive grin. “Wow…you look stunning, like a true angel. You’re my angel!” He giggles proudly because of the cheesy line he made. The jock completely disregards his earlier apology as he wraps you in another tight hug. You murmur a ‘thanks’ and lightly tap his back in return, your lips thinning with a hint of awkwardness as you look around and notice Reina's friend group staring at the two of you as though you'd just committed a crime. Alex's firm grip gradually loosens as he comes to a realisation, and he reluctantly lets you go, you notice his boyish grin turned into a pout. “I invited you to this party, I bought a whole matching outfit and everything! You told me you couldn't come!” The brown eyed male whines , his brows furrowing as his beady eyes bore into your soul. During this moment, you couldn't help scrutinise his Halloween costume.
‘Did he seriously just throw on his jersey with some fake blood around his neck..’ you pondered silently, shooting him a disapproving stare due to the minimal effort he had put into his outfit
Your initial expression of curiosity transformed into one of slight disgust when you realised that the intended matching costume was going to be ‘the jock and his cheerleader’
‘How original’ You thought sarcastically.
For the second time this night, your thoughts were interrupted, but this time it wasn't a ringing phone. It was Alex’s voice, laced with sadness whining in your ear. He pouts as he gazes down at you, gently poking your halo headband, waiting for your response.
“Basically what happ-”
Before you could even begin to explain that you had no intention of attending the party, regardless of who insisted, not until the delinquent showed up at your doorstep and mildly threatened you, your words were cut short. The moment was disrupted as she forcibly pushed the sulky jock away from you.
Despite her noticeable lack of height compared to the towering jock, Reinas attitude  definitely made up for it. 
‘Speak of the devil..metaphorically and quite literally.’ You snort at your own joke, before quickly composing yourself and directing your attention to the scene unfolding in front of you. 
Alex and Reina, two people who couldn't be any more different but they were both madly in love with you. In school, you had always managed to avoid confrontations involving the both of them, but it appeared luck wasn't on your side tonight. 
“Who do you think you are, barging into this conversation where no one invited you? Don't you have dumb shit to attend to? Like shotgunning a dozen beers?”  the delinquent spoke with a withering glare, she grabbed your arm and forcefully pulled you away from him. The crowded party left little room to manoeuvre, so she practically made you turn your back on him to ensure you were separated.
Unfortunately for her, that allowed the charismatic loveable jock to shed his facade, and shoot her an  uncharacteristically intense gaze. His eyes grew dark and his typically cheerful face contorted into a look of hatred and envy  Though it only lasted for a second, anyone who would’ve seen it, the memory would linger in their thoughts for days. 
Reina, being unlike anyone else, didn't perceive his gaze as a threat, but rather as a golden retriever attempting to imitate a wolf. She scoffed and protectively grabbed your hand.
"I'm pretty sure forcing Y/N to be surrounded by your..." The jock paused, glancing at each of Reina's friends, carefully choosing not to insult them, not out of fear, but out of respect with his beloved watching. ".. interesting group of friends might not be comfortable for her. Anyways, don't you guys have more fun plans, like commit vandalism?" He delivered with a cheerful tone, tilting his head to the side in a display of ‘adorable’ confusion.
While the male may come across as unintelligent there are some quirks to his character that reveal a different perspective. He possesses a unique knack for framing his words and expressing himself in a manner that radiates positivity.
‘He’s so stupid and oblivious , he doesn’t mean what he says!! He's just asking a question, he means no harm!’ — is what most people think. 
 But Reina, being a delinquent who often deals with various groups of people, can read him like a book. She knows he’s showing less than what he truly is. What he can truly become. And although she doesn’t give a shit about how he acts around others, she knows he’s interested in her Y/N — and that’s why he needs to stay away from her girl at all costs. 
With Reinas anger level rising, she lets out an annoyed grunt before softly pushing you back, The delinquent puts one finger on the jocks chest.
You think for a second that you should probably step in, Not because you want to but because you have no idea who will win. Reina most definitely has a weapon in her bag somewhere and also her group of friends who would kill to protect her surround you three but Alex’s strength and height  can cover that. Though from what you know  the delinquent is a lot more aggressive than the ‘pacifist’ himbo so he may have a bit of a disadvantage.
Nonetheless, you decide not to intervene and just watch the two idiots fight it out. It's not your issue right? You didn't need any more attention than you already had coming to this party tonight. 
As they both stare at each other, Reina opens her mouth to speak but gets cut off by someone tapping her back. One of her friends grabs her arm and she turns a whole 180 degrees, ready to scream at whoever is trying to hold her back.  Her eyes are narrowed as she pushes the said friend away from her. “What the fuck is your issue, Thomas?!” You now learned who the guy's name was, Thomas. He was dressed as a pirate and barely flinched when Reina screamed at her. He must've been used to it. All he does is show her phone, and mutters “Look at who's calling you.” Reina’s angry expression turns into one of disbelief as she roughly grabs the phone away from his hands. She looks at Alex one last time with a scoff before she excused herself for a moment and engaged in a heated argument with the caller. You couldn't help but overhear snippets of their exchange — it was clear that Reina was being pressured to leave the party. She hung up, her face etched with reluctance, and then turned to you.
"Babe, I've got to go, I'll still be at the party. " she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "Just promise me you'll head home soon, okay?" Your face drops into a frown, though you didn't particularly like the aggressive delinquent, she was one of the only people you knew at this party.. Well except for the man who's staring at you with love struck eyes as of right now. Before you could say anything, Reina left your side, with the group of delinquents who followed. She didn't forget to barge into Alex as she was leaving, though it didn't really affect him — he was too focused on the fact that he was alone with you right now. 
 The overexcited jock happily grabs your arm and drags you around the whole house of the party, Although he was meant to be giving you a supposed ‘tour’; you noticed he was just staring deeply at your face whilst speaking. You came to the conclusion that he didn't really know what he was doing, he just wanted to impress you.
Amid the swirling costumes and pulsating music, You  felt as if you were caught in a whirlwind. Every step you took was accompanied by Alex, who remained steadfastly close. The bulky man stayed close, like an overprotective guard dog, as you both navigated the crowd. Y/N couldn't help but feel suffocated by his constant presence. You desperately needed a moment of peace, a brief escape from his watchful eyes. You decide to ask him for a favour, of course he’d help you. 
 You finally mustered the courage to speak up, tugging at the edge of Alex's costume and turning to him with a gentle but tired smile. "Hey, Alex, do you mind getting me a drink? I could really use a break."
The jock beamed at you, happy that you trusted him enough to do something for you. ‘That must mean you like him right?! That's how it works!!’
 "Of course, Y/N," he replied, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'll be right back with your drink. Just stay right here, okay?"
You nodded gratefully, allowing yourself a sigh of relief as Alex disappeared into the crowd, determined to fulfil your request. The distance that had separated them, albeit briefly, was a welcome change, and you could breathe a little easier. 
Although he told you to stay where you were, you began to wander around and observe the revelry around you. People in all manner of costumes danced, drank, and got a little too comfortable with each other. 
You let out a yelp as you open a door to a couple grinding on each other.  Murmuring a dozen apologies, you leave the room flustered. 
As you lose yourself in your thoughts and in the house, you notice a familiar white haired male approaching you, with a wide cheshire grin, Kieran; the host of the party. 
The playboy moved through the crowd with an air of confidence and intrigue. He was dressed up as… a prisoner with handcuffs. Or as he’d probably say ‘a sexy prisoner.’ ‘Please don't come here, please don't come here, please don't come here.’ Is the phrase that repeatedly pops up in your head as you try to look at anything but him. 
“Boo!” The playboy whispers in your ears as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. He then turns you around and ignores the pout on your face, Inspecting your outfit whilst biting his lips. 
“Are you done eye-fucking me?” you sneered, crossing your arms as you tried to move slightly away from the playful male. "Oh man, you would've looked prettier as a princess~" he purred, his voice carrying a flirtatious undertone, his words accompanied by a roguish grin. You were clearly no stranger to Kieran's personality and annoying nickname for you. You roll your eyes and retort  "Well I'd rather not deal with the whole 'damsel in distress' shit tonight," a hint of sarcasm laced in your response. 
Kieran laughed, unbothered by your resistance. "Ooh but I'd have so much fun saving you princess~!” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But what made you change your mind coming to my party? I rang your phone like two hours ago and you didn't pick up.” He questions with a raised eyebrow,  his sly smirk still displayed on his face before he laughs.
“Missed my face that much huh?  Should’ just said! Would've came running to you.” 
You couldn't be bothered to talk about how you were forced to come to this stupid party, and also not wanting to mention Reina because for some reason they both had some weird dislikement towards each other. “Just had a change of heart.” You say before turning around and attempting to walk away from Kieran, but again luck wasn't on your side as he grabs your arm and tuts. The dimly lit room with the midst of the crowd, made you focus on the playful man's eyes and you noticed a shine in his eyes whilst staring at you. Before you could tell him to let you go,he whispers closely to you, so close that you could faintly smell the alcohol and mint laced in his breath. “Hey this is my party y’know? Let me show you a more secluded area, perfect for an introvert like you~” He teases as he drags your arm downstairs, and into one of the rooms which he had to twist to unlock. You silently cuss the playboy as you notice his entire group of so-called friends in the room. LED lights which displayed red, multiple couples in the room doing God knows what.
 As you both walk further into the room, Kieran, too busy dabbing up people who you never once saw in your life, You notice a pile of unlabeled drugs and drinks on the table that was in the centre of the room. Quickly looking away, you squint your eyes as you try to notice anyone that you’re familiar with. In the corner of the room, there's a girl wearing a red corset with red horns, matching yours. You notice her angry expression as she converses with the two people around her. It was Reina. She notices your gaze and her face slightly softens, As she approaches you, she notices your arm being held by Kieran. Her face returns to the expression of which you first saw in the room. The white haired male doesn't notice the vexed delinquent yet, and he stares at your face in confusion as he notices you watching something, following your line of view he finally sees the girl wearing the devil costume. “Oh hey! Didn't know I invited you to my party?” He says playfully, but you notice the snark in his voice.  Reina seems to notice it too as her face contorts into one of jealousy. “You guys know each other?” She questions, her question directed towards mostly you. Your hands begin to sweat as you attempt to stutter out an excuse, but for the second time this night, the living sun in human form interrupts your conversation by walking into the room, except this time he didn't have a happy expression, it was evident that he was sulking. 
Your eyes drift to his hands, noticing the drink in his hands that you had specifically asked for. ‘Shit..’ you think to yourself and for the first time you felt bad for the jock. You didn't mean to leave him for that long! It was more of Kierans fault for dragging you away. “I have your drink Y/N…” He says with wide eyes and pursed lips, clearly upset that you had just left him. With an apologetic gaze, you gently take the drink away from his grasp with a thank you, as you look away with a little guilt. “Oh my god, not this freak here again!” Reina scorns,disdain in her face as she stares at both Alex and Kieran, they stare back with disgust. The entire school year, these three constantly hung around you and you still managed to never make them interact whilst you were there, in fear of any of these bold characters causing a scene. But of course, the one day where you especially didn't want to see any of them, they all surround you possessively with jealousy tangled in their eyes. Could this night get any worse? -
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It most definitely can. You managed to calm them down and now you're all sat in a circle, with random people you don't know. Kieran sat down next to you on the right, while Alex occupied the seat on the left, and Reina sat across from you, clearly not happy with the seating arrangements.
Whilst the room was filled with chatter, one of Kieran's friends mentioned a board game that you've never heard about  that supposedly had the power to ‘summon demons.’
The suggestion hung in the air, Kieran laughed at the idea and laughed harder as he noticed the uncomfortable look in your face. 
“Don't worry babe, i'll protect you~” He whispers in your ear, Reina notices you two conversing but can't hear what he told you, Her already green eyes appear even greener as she looks away enviously. The idea was met with hesitance, but with Kieran's playful persuasion, everyone reluctantly agreed to try it.
As the game commenced, Alex clutched onto your arm, his protectiveness reaching new heights. The friendly giants sends you a look of comfort. Reina, on the other hand, grew increasingly annoyed and impatient, wanting to leave this messed up party. Still, she begrudgingly  stayed, unwilling to abandon her beloved in this situation.
The group followed the game's instructions, and to their shock, the room filled with an eerie energy. The lights began to flicker and in an instant it turned off, most of the room ran away screaming, not caring about the party anymore. Others began to laugh with interest  and waited for what was going to happen next. a sinister figure formed in the centre of their makeshift circle. You freeze as you notice the demon (?), he is fucking terrifying but inspecting him closer the extremely tall thing is quite.. handsome?  
A malevolent demon with smouldering eyes and a sinister grin, stood before everyone. Panic coursed through the room, and everyone, including yourself , scrambled to flee. As you attempted to escape, the demon swiftly locked the door, trapping you inside with Alex, Reina, and Kieran.
With a devilish chuckle, The demon introduced himself as Silas. The red faced man turned his attention to you. He took your chin in his hand, his touch chilling to the bone. His nails dug sharply into your skin. "You're prettier than the angels we have where I'm from" he hissed, his voice dripping with lust.
Your heart raced with fear and arousal as you looked into Silas's eyes, a shiver running down your spine. Alex and Reina attempted to interject, their voices laced with fear and anger, but Silas silenced them with a mere flick of his fingers, flooding their minds with endorphins that dulled their resistance. Kieran seemed to be less affected by whatever poison Silas had put out as he grabs Y/Ns arm towards his chest. “I don't know what the hell you are but she's mine, get in line” Kieran jokes, not scared of the situation at all. You send him the dirtiest look possible as Silas laughs mockingly at the playboys statement.
As the night wore on, and the party raged outside, Y/N, Alex, Reina, and Kieran were trapped with this demon who had an interest in you for some strange reason. Well, everyone in this room has some abnormal interest in you and it seems that you're quite literally trapped in a  room with people who would do anything for you. Even if that means fighting a demon.
Desperation welled up in your body as you realised the dire situation that you were stuck in. "How am I supposed to leave now?" you whisper to yourself, noticing 4 gazes staring at you with different expressions but they all contained one thing, Lust.
Did Silas forget to mention that he was a succubus?
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purerae<3
COMMENTS AND REBLOGS HEAVILY APPRECIATED.
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waywardsalt · 1 year ago
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Hi! I hope you’re doing good in life! So it’s spooky season so I have an ask related to that. I don’t know if you play horror video games, watch horror movies/shows, or read horror books, but if you do, I have to ask: What is the most disturbing book, or video game or show/movie that you’ve played/watched/read? In my opinion, there is two types of horror: the ones that scare you, and the ones that traumatize you. If you can think of any book, movie, or game that really kind of fucked you up, I’m curious to know if you feel like answering. I hope you have a good day and a good life.
Hey, I’m doing good and I hope you are too!
the answer ended up being really long lol
Woof, this is honestly a pretty hard question, since I can't really name any horror (or otherwise) media that actually left me kind of fucked up for a bit, at least not to the degree where it affected me for a while. I probably haven't been really fucked up by anything since I was a kid, so I'll try and recall what a few things fucked me up back then...
Off the top of my head I know that two different spongebob episodes got me bad, the first being one with that tunnel of love thing (tho tbh i havent seen it in a while so it might still spook me today) and the one where i'm pretty sure for whatever reason squidward gets locked in some small locker and has some kind of fucked up dream, whatever that was. I remember there was an eagle in that one. the eagle terrified me. (i looked them up, and the first episode is titled 'tunnel of glove' and the second is 'squidward in clarinetland'. with how badly that second one got to me, i'm surprised i ended up learning to play the clarinet at all)
other than that, i think the courage the cowardly dog episode 'the house of discontent' got me pretty bad, too, but i think everyone who saw any amount of that series as a kid has at least one episode that got them fucked up.
there's probably a handful of scooby-doo stuff that got to me when i was a kid, but i could not name any specifics (asides from charlie the robot's original episode, christ) because i think i managed to see just about every bit of available scooby media around that time.
nowadays stuff still does kinda fuck me up, but it's usually only for brief bits of time. the most recent example I can think of is cowboy bebop's 20's episode, pierrot le fou, which is honestly some great horror, especially how it uses the show's typical format and flips it on it's head, but i wouldn't necessarily say it got to me because of it being scary, more because of the way the ending disturbed me for a bit. it was the only episode that had me stop afterwards and really look into it for anything other than clarifying a character's gender, lol.
the endings of both neon genesis evangelion and end of evangelion had me shaken, the latter more so than the former, but not really due to horror aspects, though. i did have to take a walk after finishing end of evangelion. i don't really watch horror movies, i just... read the wikipedia plot descriptions of them.
honestly, i think some of the more popular youtube analogue horror series have gotten to me worse (likely due to the fact that they can get a bit more fucked up than, say, a tv show or movie), specifically the walten files (which i did watch) and the mandela catalogue (which i just watched wendigoon's vids on), and those two and mostly because facial distortion is generally just an incredibly effective form of horror imo. a lot of the time (esp with the childhood examples) the way i was 'fucked up' was that id be in be visualizing the stuff that scared me, and both the mandela catalogue and the walten files had me doing that for a bit.
now that i remember it, i was really scared of fnaf when it first came out. i first learned of it second-hand from seeing some other kids looking into it, and the bits and pieces i put together about it really scared me.
honestly, it's usually straight-up disturbing sequences or imagery that gets to me the most, and i know my limits well enough to generally identify and avoid that stuff, which is probably why i don't have too many recent examples. i've got one or two examples of non-horror movies that fucked me up as a kid, but that's mostly because they were wildly inappropriate for someone of my age (at the time) to be witnessing, so that's a different sort of topic.
i mean, i think i generally have a decent tolerance for fucked up stuff in media, anyways, i mean, i enjoy berserk and haven't really been too upset or disturbed by what happens in it (look theres some nasty shit in there im not saying its not that bad) so there's definitionally some kind of line that media needs to cross to really get to me nowadays, or it just needs to be a specific kind of fucked up. books generally don't do that for me so i don't have any book examples. no games, either, though shadow mario and the haunted house segments in super mario 3d world scared me so much that i had to make my mom do the levels for me, and i'm pretty sure scooby doo: first frights scared me a bit when i first played it on ds.
other than that, though, I just think that, in pokemon x, the story that an npc tells you during your first trip to route 14 and then the strange office building encounter with the animation-less hex maniac creeped me out pretty bad.
yeah, it's kind of hard for me to think of anything (recent) that actually really fucked me up or anything. most stuff just scared me, never really fucked me up or figuratively traumatized me in recent years.
#asks#zeldanamikaze#salty talks#i think for media to really fuck me up there has to be some kind of intense emotional aspect to it or have some specific visual stuff#my enjoying of berserk is proof that it takes specific stuff to really get to me. the way i tested if id be fine reading berserk is so#fucked in hindsight. i straight up looked up the two most infamous eclipse chapters online and read them to make sure id be fine#what the fuck. i just dove in head first fucking god#anyways yeah. like berserk is generally fine for me but cowboy bebop episode 20 did have me a lil fucked up. its so good#ive been looking more into horror stuff recently and i have a lot of respect for (well-executed) horror games like damn. i wanna play#silent hill 2 so bad. it's a really interesting genre when pulled off effectively on a level deeper than just 'oh look at this scary thing'#anyways. i recently watched mononoke and its not really horror just kinda unsettling. its so fucking good#tbh tho there are some fanfics ive read that did actually fuck me up (which is why i kinda have an aversion to angst)#but i didnt want to talk abt those bc i dont want to name names or anything. theyre good fics they just affected me pretty negatively#generally its more like. freaky irl things that fuck me up but thats not fun to talk about its just like. depressing#sorry it took so long to reply to this i hadnt really sat down to write it or anything an just. couldnt think of much lol#anyways ig bottom line is that its more likely for non-horror stuff to fuck me up? or its gotta be specific stuff idk#i played a few hours of portal 1 at a friends house years ago and for some reason it creeped me out a whole lot#strangely enough i dont think scooby doo mystery incorporated fucked me up when i first watched it#i think there was like 1 episode that scared me more than the rest but it was never too bad#and that show is regarded as likely the most actually scary scooby thing. its rlly good#im pretty sure scooby doo was my first (or one of my first) special interest#also (similarly) i dont really get nightmares too often my dreams are just kinda really weird most of the time#i did actually have like. a scary dream recently but i dont know if id fully call it a nightmare
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osarina · 2 months ago
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ᡣ𐭩 OFFER ME MY DEATHLESS DEATH
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FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: one drunken encounter with dazai sends everything spiraling. suddenly, all of your problems are catching up to you at once and you're lost as to how you should proceed... or that's not entirely true—you know how you're going to proceed but it's impossible for you to come to terms with how far you've let this go.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: sorry that i haven't really been active this week </3 i've been so busy. ill try to get to asks and everything soon. forgive me</3 i hope you guys enjoy part 5, i rlly had fun writing this chapter. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!
GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).
CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. reader and dazai argue, reader is a bit intoxicated, dazai heavily implied suicide attempt (not outright said/described bc he can't remember, but he assumes that's what happened) & he dissociates, dazai is in a pretty bad mental state the first half of the chapter, i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread
SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST
You stopped seeking him out after that night.
Dazai sits in his apartment, knees curled to his chest and back pressed against the wall. He has to forcibly keep his breath steady—his homework for his engineering class is discarded somewhere to his left, he’d been working on it for class tomorrow before he made the mistake of checking his phone and seeing that you’d once again stopped reading his messages. 
Two days straight now of silence on your end. He could go to your apartment like he’s been doing for the past two weeks but every time he tries to push himself to his feet with the intention of going to you, he finds himself rooted to the ground. Your words ring damningly and persistently through his head—how you told Nakahara Chuuya that you’re only doing this because he found the proof of your occupation, how you told him that you tried to cut him off.
Dazai knew what he was doing by using the video as leverage over you. He knew he was forcing you into indulging him, that he was backing you into a corner, but he’d allowed himself to be blinded by your treatment of him. 
Even if it was coerced, no one has ever treated him the way you do—you remember the things he tells you off-handedly like he matters and you buy him the things he wants without him having to say anything like you care. You’re gentle with him—Dazai has only ever experienced bruising touches; Oda and Ango weren’t physical people and he can hardly remember his mother. He remembers the way his aunt dragged him out of the car kicking and screaming, tossing him to the ground in Suribachi before driving away. He remembers all of the nights he would get drunk at bars, ending up in strangers’ beds and waking up with a body that ached painfully and dark marks littered across his bandaged skin.
It’s hard to remember that you don’t actually want him when you treat him the same way he’s dreamed someone would treat him one day. It’s hard to remember that you turn your head away when he leans in to kiss you, that you ignore his lingering touches and change the subject whenever he almost gathers the nerve to bring the topic up to you.
You don’t want him. 
He’s forcing you to do this by using the video as leverage. 
You don’t want him. 
He rests his forehead on his knees. That gaping hole in his chest that had started to return that night after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment is all consuming now. His entire body feels numb and prickly, he feels uncomfortable in his own skin.
He needs to put a stop to this.
His gaze draws from his knees to the floorboard he’s hiding the flash drive under. He could just… get rid of it. Get rid of it and disappear—you probably wouldn’t even notice. Maybe you would, he remembers how you came to his apartment when you hadn’t heard from him after sending the couch. Then again, you might’ve only shown up because you wanted to lie about why you were cutting him off. Dazai just doesn’t know with you.
Maybe he should just go to talk to you. 
But if he talks to you… and the thought of leaving his apartment right now…
Dazai sighs, leaning back against the wall, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling, weighing both options carefully before coming to a heavy decision.
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You’re not in your apartment when he gets there.
Dazai would usually wander around and find something to make himself busy with while he waits for you. You have a piano on the opposite side of the room that he sometimes likes to fiddle with—he’s taught himself a few basic songs while waiting for you to get back from work the past few weeks. He ordered a gaming console and a few games to go along with it when you made the mistake of leaving your laptop open last week, but he doesn’t even have the energy to go look for one; not that any are even particularly standing out to him. Sometimes, he just snoops around, but his legs feel like lead, like they’re bolted to the ground, so he just sits on your couch and stares at the black television screen as the minutes tick by.
He doesn’t even know how long he’s been sitting there—too long, it was still light out when he walked his way over to your building in Naka-ku and the sun had set a long time ago. He’s never felt lonely in your apartment before; in fact, he usually seeks out your apartment because he feels lonely and whether you’re here or not, it eases the void that grows in his chest.
But now? Each passing second, he feels colder and colder. A part of him thinks that he should take this as a sign and just leave, but his body is uncooperative, keeping him rooted to your couch as he awaits your return.
He’s planned out what he’s going to say to you; he’s rehearsed it in his head so many times that he thinks he could say the dreadful words while sleeping. Now, he just-
Dazai’s head snaps to the side when he hears the fateful ding of the elevator arriving at your floor. His eyes widen and his tongue swells with anxiety as he stares at the doors, his breath slows and his fingers bite into his pants as he waits to see you step into the room but when the doors finally start to slide open, he freezes when he hears laughter.
“I can’t stand you,” an unfamiliar male voice snorts and Dazai’s mouth dries as his gaze darts around, trying to figure out what to do. The last thing he wants is for a repeat of the other night—if this is another one of your mafia friends, Dazai has to move, but he doesn’t know where to go.
His gaze settles on a nearby hall leading to the bathroom and an unused room—it’s closer to him than the kitchen, he’d never make it to the kitchen because he’d have to go right past the elevator. His legs feel so heavy that it’s an effort for him to push himself to his feet. He almost stumbles right over them as he rushes into the spare room, keeping the door cracked open so he can hear and see what’s going on.
He peeks carefully through the crack, watching as two men enter your apartment—you’re with them and Dazai’s chest tightens painfully at the sight of you. You’re smiling as you lean against one of the men—Dazai recognizes him as the man who had come with you to his apartment complex the first time, he’d been waiting by the car for you—and you’re dressed prettily in a short black dress. You’re so dazzling to him that Dazai nearly tumbles right out of the room he’s hiding in, but luckily, he’s drawn out of his dazed state by another unfortunately familiar face: Nakahara Chuuya, the executive who had been at your apartment the other night.
Dazai quickly leans back into the room when the ginger’s eyes snap down the hall as if he could sense someone watching him. He lets out a puff of air as he looks around the empty room—he’d looked in here before when he first started coming to your apartment, but had been sorely disappointed by the fact that there was nothing in the room for him to snoop around in.
Now, he blinks because while the room is still mostly empty, there are some tools in here as if you’d had someone come in to take measurements to start building something in there. His gaze slides from the far wall to the one nearest to him, dragging his feet against the wood floors to slide his fingers against the lines drawn on the wall in pencil, realizing that it’s about the same size as the piano in the other room.
His throat tightens as he remembers your offer from the other day, wondering if you’d gone ahead and started having it done even after the argument with Chuuya and Dazai not showing up for two days. 
God, he doesn’t understand you—he doesn’t understand you at all. He starts to doubt every conclusion he’s come to the past two days because why would you go to these lengths for someone you don’t care about? For someone who’s forcing you into indulging him through blackmail? It doesn’t make sense, Dazai has never had so much trouble reading someone before you.
He leans against the wall, lashes lowering as he looks down at the floor. He doesn’t know what to think and now his well-rehearsed speech starts crumbling in his head. Distantly, he can hear the conversation between you and the other two mafiosos—you’re talking about something happening in Tokyo and Dazai wonders if it has anything to do with that argument from the other night.
But regardless of the topic of discussion, what matters more is that you sound happy. Your voice is light and airy, and you seem entirely unbothered by the fact that you hadn’t seen Dazai in days. Dazai doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so happy with him before and why would you when he’s blackmailing you? Your laughter rings bright and pretty like a chime and Dazai feels sick to his stomach at the thought of you laughing like that for someone else; he imagines the way your laughter will fizzle when you see him, all of the liveliness in your face dying at his unanticipated appearance.
It feels like an eternity and all too soon at the same time when Dazai finally hears the two leave. He takes one deep breath, preparing to force himself out from where he’s hiding but then freezes at the sound of you raising your voice.
“Dazai, you can come out now.”
He blanches, staring at the partially closed door in front of him, half-debating on not even coming out because how did you know he was here? He thought he’d been careful, there’s-
“I know you’re somewhere in here, the cushion was warm where you were sitting.”
Dazai has half a mind to throw himself out of the window.
He takes in a deep breath as he pushes the door open, stepping out into the hallway that’s suddenly too cold and all too short. He swears it was twice as long when he was stumbling from the couch to hide in the spare room. His feet scuffle against the ground as he walks forward, not coming any closer than where the hallway meets your living room.
You’re laying on the couch he’d been sitting on, head resting back against the pillows and a curious expression on your face as you watch him. He can’t read it—if he didn’t know any better, he’d almost say it was fond, but he refuses to let that hope bubble up into his chest only for it to be crushed again. He thinks he should say something, tossing around a few options in his head, but he doesn’t get the chance to.
You hold out your hand to him. “Come here,” you say.
Dazai hesitates, eyes lingering on your extended hand before flitting back up to your face. He shouldn’t—he knows he shouldn’t—but he finds his feet moving forward before he can stop himself. He stands in front of you awkwardly for a moment, not sure what you want from him, but then his eyes shoot open when you reach out and grab his wrist, tugging him forward onto the couch with you. 
He pretends he doesn’t yelp when he lands on top of you, face flaming up when he shifts himself into a sitting position so that he’s straddling your waist, trying not to drop all of his weight onto you. He also pretends that he’s not entirely thrown off by the way your hands rest on his thighs, absently running them up and down the sides of them. 
“Where have you been the past few days?” you ask him quietly.
Dazai’s blood pressure spikes at the curious look you give him, as if he hadn’t been texting you for days with no response. He can smell the alcohol on you now that he’s closer and he wonders how much you drank—he thinks that’s probably why you looked so fond before and that’s probably why you’re suddenly being so touchy with him, it has nothing to do with him. That empty feeling in his chest starts to return.
He should have just left, should have just destroyed the flash drive and disappeared. 
“I texted you,” he replies tightly, feeling wildly uncomfortable as he’s unable to get a hold on the way he’s spiraling internally. “I can see you’ve been busy though.”
You tilt your head to the side as if you’re unsure of what he means and Dazai almost wants to get up and leave but the feeling of your hands on him, his lower body pressed to yours, it leaves him dizzy and slow. His breath catches as your hands slip beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing out against his bandaged sides, thumb drawing slow circles over the covered skin as if trying to calm him down.
Dazai thinks he might hate you.
He thinks he might hate himself more because it works. His heartbeat slows and relaxes into you a bit more. He wants to take you by the shoulders and shake you, wants to demand answers, wants to know if you actually care about him or if this is all just some big show for the flash drive. 
“I haven’t looked at my phone,” you finally say. “I’ve been the one dealing with the issues in Tokyo. It’s just been meeting after meeting the past few days. I thought you’d be here when I got back but you weren’t.”
Were you waiting for him? He wants to ask. Expecting him? Or are you just saying that because you can tell he’s unhappy and don’t want to deal with his attitude? Dazai just doesn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate with your hands on his body.
“Can we talk?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments.
“What about?”
About the flash drive. About you. About him. Dazai doesn’t know—about everything. So, instead he just says: “About this.”
Instantly, you turn your head away from him and Dazai’s frustration rises at your attempt at blatantly ignoring him. He reaches out to grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him and Dazai’s breath catches when your lidded stare lands on him.
“I’m drunk,” you tell him flatly. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Bullshit,” Dazai immediately snaps, the pads of his fingers digging a bit too hard into your cheeks but you’re unfazed by it, staring up at him with an unreadable expression. “I think-”
Dazai doesn’t even have the chance to finish his sentence because you’re pushing yourself up from your laying position, one hand slipping out from his sweatshirt to cup the back of his head, the other still firm on his hip as you drag him down against you. Dazai’s breath catches when you press your lips against his, lashes fluttering shut. The hand on his hip slides around to his back, holding his body flush to yours—he lets out a low moan into your mouth when you nip at his bottom lip.
No, he thinks hazily, trying to push himself off of you but instead, his hands cup your cheeks and he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss. Your tongues dance in a way that leaves him dazed, it feels almost intimately familiar to him, somehow so in tune with one another that it’s like you’ve kissed hundreds of times before. 
He shouldn’t be doing this, he knows this. You said it yourself that you’re drunk, he knows you only kissed him to get him to stop talking but…Dazai sighs into your mouth when he feels the tips of your finger card through his hair, feeling you shift beneath him to let his hips slot between your legs.
But isn’t this what he’s wanted this whole time? 
Aren’t you finally giving him what you’ve denied him for weeks?
Your lips are intoxicating against his, and not because of the gin staining your tongue, he can hardly focus on anything with the way your tongue traces the back of his teeth, dragging against the roof of his mouth. He groans when you shift beneath him, one leg hooking around his waist. He separates his lips from yours to gasp for breath.
Shit, he thinks, lips parting when you kiss his jaw, trailing your lips to his ear to suck gently on the skin there before kissing slowly down his neck. He swears his entire body is on fire, breaths quick and shuddered; his mind feels so muddled and hazy that he has to actively tell himself to put a stop to this and even that is almost not enough.
It takes all of his willpower to push himself off of you, still breathing heavy, lips wet and swollen, his whole body tingling everywhere your lips and hands had touched. You stare up at him and Dazai’s body aches with need when he sees you’re nearly as breathless as he is, your own lips wet from his, eyes a bit glazed over. Heat burns in his lower abdomen but he can’t, not when he knows you’re drunk and not when he knows you’re only doing this to get him to stop talking.
Before Dazai can say anything, you look away from him again and he knows that it’s over.
“I’m tired,” you say. “Help me get to bed. We can talk in the morning.”
Dazai’s lashes lower as he nods, leaning down to help you to your feet. Even with your heels kicked off, you wobble on your feet, so he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. The silence is almost foreboding as Dazai guides you up the stairs to your bedroom; you don’t make any move to break it, so Dazai does.
“We’re not going to talk about it in the morning, are we?” he asks quietly, looking down at you. You don’t look up at him and Dazai just wants you to at least look at him so when he gets you to the door of your bedroom, he stops and looks at you. You still don’t look at him. “Can you at least look at me?”
Dazai thinks he might be sick from the way you have to seemingly force yourself to look at him. Even drunk, he can see the displeasure plain on your face and it makes him want to curl in on himself again.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Dazai,” you finally say, your voice is tight. “I want to go to bed.”
“I want to talk about it,” Dazai stresses. “I-”
Frustration flies across your face, emotions loosened in your intoxicated state. You turn away from him and slam open your bedroom door and Dazai winces, taking half a step back.
“It’s always what you want, Dazai,” you hiss. 
Dazai’s heart sinks, shaking his head because he doesn’t want to hear where you’re going with this. “Stop.”
“For weeks, I have been catering to what you want and now I don’t want one thing and you throw a fucking tantrum over it. I don’t want to talk about this—I don’t want to talk about it now, I don’t want to talk about it in the morning, I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just leave it be?”
Dazai takes another step back, staring at you silently. His ears ring as your words echo through them and though he can watch your face shift from frustration to guilt, it doesn’t process in his head—not really, not when all he can hear are your words on repeat over and over again. 
You reach out for him, fingers curling around his wrist but Dazai pulls his hand back, taking a step away from you, closer to the stairs. All of his fight or flight instincts are triggered, his body itches to run, to flee downstairs and get out of your apartment, but his legs are uncooperative, feet rooted to the ground as he stares at you blankly.
“I didn’t mean that,” you say after a few moments. “I didn’t-I just-”
“It’s okay,” Dazai replies, voice a bit distant even to his own ears. “I’ll drop it.”
“Dazai-”
“Let me help you get into bed,” Dazai interrupts, forcing a smile onto his face as he pushes himself forward. His movements feel weird and clunky, unnatural almost, but he successfully leads you into your room, pulling back the sheets to help you into bed. “C’mon.”
He helps you slip into the bed and pulls the sheets over you, there’s still that hazy look in your eyes as you look up at him and Dazai tries his best to make sure that the smile on his face doesn’t look strained. He’s pretty sure you can see through it even while drunk. You reach out to grab his wrist again and this time, Dazai doesn’t pull away. 
“Stay here tonight,” you say quietly. “Lay down with me.”
“I have class in the morning.” Dazai shakes his head, as much as he might ache to stay in your presence, he thinks if he stays in it a moment longer, he might actually break down—he can’t get your words to stop echoing. Only a steadily crumbling dam is holding back the torrent of emotions ripping apart his chest. “I can’t.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“I have to get all of my books, and finish my homework,” he tells you. “I can’t.”
“We’ll leave early,” you press, leaning up on your elbows. “C-”
“I can’t,” Dazai stresses, taking a step back and shaking his head. “I can’t. I have to go.”
You look conflicted, but to his relief and distress, you finally let go of his wrist. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. After your classes. You finish at three, right? There’s a restaurant in Minami-ku I’ve been meaning to take you to.”
Dazai’s throat spasms as he swallows, shaking his head again. “I’m busy after class tomorrow. I have meetings for group projects.”
“When are they over? I’ll pick you up after.”
He feels a bit sick to his stomach as he looks up at your ceiling, in turmoil and unsure as to what to do. He knows you’re not doing this because you feel bad—not really—he knows it has to do with the flashdrive. He knows it. He thought it would be easier having someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, even if it was only because of blackmail because at least he would have someone, but he was wrong because this is a type of torture that Dazai just can’t endure any longer.
“I’m not going to want to do anything after, I’ll be drained.”
“Then we don’t have to do anything.” God, you won’t stop trying. You won’t stop trying and Dazai knows that if it wasn’t for that stupid flash drive, you’d have laughed in his face and told him to get out. He thinks he might actually throw up. “I’ll pick up the food before going to get you. We’ll stay in. Watch a movie.”
“No,” Dazai says, raising his voice now. “No. I’m just going to go back to my place. I have to go.”
Though his legs feel like lead and his body still yearns to be near yours, he forces himself to leave your room. Doesn’t look back when you call his name. Doesn’t hesitate at the top of the stairs when you tell him to wait. He nearly stumbles as he makes his way down the stairs and when he gets to the bottom instead of rushing toward the elevator, he sits on the arm of your couch, resting his head in his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts.
You’re so frustrating. So impossible to read that it’s beginning to take a toll on Dazai. He doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant on not having a conversation about all of this. He thought you would’ve wanted to have a conversation about it for the chance of getting the flash drive away from him. 
You’ve done everything in your power to avoid any physical contact with him until now; only finally giving it to him when there’s an issue you really don’t want to talk about to try to distract him. Hell, you’d prefer to even talk to him about mafia business—you vented all about the issues with the Shimazaki-kai to him, and Dazai would think that’s the last thing you’d want to talk to him about. 
It doesn’t make any sense.
He’s drawn from his thoughts at the sound of something buzzing against the ground a few feet away, frowning as he looks around and spots your phone on the ground, probably lost in your drunken attempts to get to the couch. He hesitates before pushing himself off the arm of the couch, taking a few steps toward it before kneeling down to pick it up. 
He chews at the inside of his cheek as he stares down at the home screen of your phone, staring at Nakahara Chuuya’s name in the text notification. He knows that he shouldn’t go snooping. He knows it.
He does it anyway.
He spares one last glance up the stairs before unlocking your phone with the code he’s seen you put in hundreds of times by now, clicks on your message app and lets out a puff of air when he realizes that no, you hadn’t been lying. You have at least twenty unread message threads—Dazai’s is pinned at the top with Chuuya’s and someone called Mori, who you’ve never mentioned to him. There’s only one message thread you’ve evidently been reading the past few days considering there’s no dot next to it: Tolstoy, the last message being from a few hours ago.
He shouldn’t look. He knows he shouldn’t look.
He clicks on it anyway.
He bites down hard on his bottom lip as he scrolls to the top of the conversation—only a few message exchanges between the two of you, but they’re decently long.
Tolstoy: Do you still want Ilya? I can have him there by the end of next week, I just need him to finish up some business in Moscow first. You: Haven’t decided. You haven’t even given me the rundown on the side effects of his ability. I’m not going to use it if it’s going to fuck up his head—stop playing salesman and tell me what’s actually up with him. No ability comes without consequences. You know that. I know that. So stop fucking around. 
Dazai suddenly has a sick feeling in his stomach, vision tunneling on the ‘him’ you’re speaking of in the messages. A foreboding air settles over him, dark and oppressive, he has to physically force himself to keep reading.
Tolstoy: We don’t know of any side effects. Haven’t used it enough to figure it out.  You: So, you want me to use him as a lab rat? Be real, Tolstoy. Thought you had more respect for me than that. Tolstoy: I’m trying to help you. You want that kid’s memory wiped, I can have it done for you, it’s just a matter of how badly you want it done.
Dazai doesn’t read anymore than that. He drops your phone onto the couch, takes a step back, a step away. His mind spins, ears ringing as he stares down at—he doesn’t even know what he’s staring at. His vision is swimming and blurring—with tears, maybe? Or just from exhaustion? From panic? He can’t tell but he knows he’s not breathing properly and he knows he needs to leave, everything suddenly feels too suffocating, too enclosed. 
He stumbles over to the elevator, slapping the button and leaning against the wall as he waits for it to come up to your floor. It takes long—too long, each second that passes feels like an eternity and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.
There’s only one “him” that your texts could be referring to. And it makes sense—it makes sense, doesn’t it? It makes sense why you’re so willing to divulge confidential information if you don’t intend for him to keep the knowledge of it. Makes sense why you’ve been notably careless with leaving files around your apartment. Makes sense why you told him about your ability. He’d thought you were finally letting him in, letting him know you, but-but of course, you weren’t. 
Of course, you weren’t. 
You were just…you were just trying to keep him placated, feed him bits of information to keep him happy because you knew you weren’t going to let him keep the knowledge of it. That you were gonna wipe his memory of it, of you, and send him back into that cold, dark void that’s been following him around his entire life and-
The bing of the elevator startles him, he flinches and still, he can’t breathe. His skin feels numb and prickly, his bandages are scratching uncomfortably at the scars hidden beneath them and he can hardly see straight.
Dazai needs to go.
He needs to go.
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You wake up with a dry mouth, a pounding headache and an oddly foreboding feeling hanging about you. You push yourself into a sitting position, grimacing at the sun blinding you through the window—you don’t remember much of the night. You vaguely recall leaving the club last night with Albatross and Chuuya, the two of them incessantly bitching about dealing with you while you were drunk but in your defense, you think you deserved it after three days straight of meetings with the Shimazaki-kai on behalf of the Sun and Steel. 
Everything after leaving the club is a blur. You grimace as you push yourself out of bed, glancing around to see if you’d dropped your phone anywhere near the bed only to come up empty-handed. You don’t even bother to go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, anxious to find your phone and figure out what happened once you left the club.
You pray to god that it’s downstairs and you hadn’t left it at the club, making your way out of the bedroom with a sigh. You doubt Chuuya or Albatross would’ve been dumb enough to leave it there, but you’re pretty sure they were both drunk too and neither of them are functioning drunks.
You’re not even halfway through the door frame when pain shoots through your head, sharp and uncomfortable and then-
“It’s always what you want, Dazai.”
Suddenly, that foreboding feeling you awoke with makes sense. You stare ahead blankly as you remember who exactly was waiting for you at your apartment after you got back from the club. You remember the argument, you remember the crushed expression that crossed his face when you snapped at him, you remember pleading with him to stay or to at least let you take him out today and you remember him refusing, his voice pitched and cracking, wobbly, on the verge of collapse because-
Because of you. 
Fuck.
It’s with increasingly more urgency now that you rush yourself down the stairs, a small lingering hope remaining that maybe Dazai had stayed in one of the guest rooms or on the couch, that you could do something to fix this before it escalates even more. 
You don’t even know why you said that—it’s not like you mind giving Dazai what he wants, in fact, you enjoy it. You enjoy it a lot. You like seeing his face light up when you do nice things for him, you like when he tries to hide the way he gets all flustered, you like that he’s allowed himself to have hope with you—something he’s clearly denied himself for too long—and you what? 
You ruined it because you got scared? 
You ruined it because you didn’t want to talk about… whatever you have going on with him? 
You ruined it because you were terrified he was going to force you to come to terms with the fact that you’re using his stupid flash drive as an excuse to indulge yourself in him. That it would take minimal effort to have it destroyed but you’re putting it off because you want to be able to rationalize what you’re doing.
You feel sick to your stomach when you realize that your apartment is empty, eyes darting around to try to find your phone. You need to call him—he told you that he wanted to be alone today, or maybe he didn’t say exactly that but he implied it, but you need to at least talk to him now that you’re sober and can think straight. 
A distant part of you, a cold and logical part of you, tells you to just use this as the excuse to cut him off—you don’t need to get Ilya to fuck with his mind if he just hates you, you don’t want Ilya to fuck with Dazai’s mind. The thought of it makes your chest feel tight with guilt, so maybe you should take this opportunity for what it is, no matter how shitty it might make you feel, but-
But you won’t.
Finally spotting your phone on the couch, you snatch it up and unlock it, grimacing at the low battery percentage and then grimacing even more when there’s not a single message from Dazai lighting up your home screen. There’s seven from Chuuya, three from Albatross, and two from Mori, but you’re more concerned by the missed call from an unknown number and the unread voice message.
The foreboding feeling that has been looming only grows more intense when you click on the message for it to play out loud.
“This is Doctor Okamoto of Keiyu Hospital calling on behalf of a recently admitted patient… listed you as his emergency contact when he was brought in last night… unable to disclose any information regarding his injuries over the phone… suggest that you get here soon…”
At once, your vision tunnels and everything around you becomes white noise, your gaze is pinned on the ground, a smudge on the tiled floors as you try to keep yourself grounded because what? Dazai is in the-he’s in the hospital?
Because of you? 
You hadn’t been subtle approaching him that day in the library, it’s been a lingering thought since then, wondering if unsavory eyes had caught sight of you talking to him. The bar and the cafe were different, he had approached you—if any of your enemies had happened to see it, they wouldn’t think twice about it. But you approaching him had been dangerous. 
It had been a mistake.
Had it been a mistake to cost him his life?
And it’s not just that—you’ve taken him out to dinners. Picked him up at his apartment building. Places that you or your trusted affiliates own but there’s always the chance… and if he left the Port Mafia building last night in a rush, upset and not thinking straight…
Oh, you might throw up.
You’re not dressed properly. You’re still wearing your dress from last night and you fumble to put on the heels you must’ve kicked off in your drunken state. You don’t even care to get dressed, more intent on getting to the hospital and figuring out if—nausea builds in the back of your throat—if Dazai is alive, if he’s okay. You need to re-listen to the voicemail because your hearing had been unfocused and you’d only been able to catch bits and pieces of the doctor’s message.
And-
And you don’t even get into the elevator because your phone is ringing again as soon as you click the button. You don’t even look at the number before picking up, fearing that it’s the hospital again—it’s not, it’s Chuuya, and you immediately regret your decision because you aren’t even able to bark out a ‘what’ before he’s speaking.
“Where the hell have you been?” Chuuya snaps on the other side of the line. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours, we-”
“I’m busy,” you hiss right back, interrupting him. “I can’t talk-”
“You can talk,” Chuuya says harshly. “Get to headquarters. The Guild is in Yokohama now. We don’t have time to fuck around anymore.”
You don’t respond to Chuuya, heart sinking to your feet at his words, distress clawing at your chest so painfully that you think it might be easier if you just carve out your heart and toss it out the window. You hang up the phone without another word just as the elevator makes it to your floor, but instead of going inside, you make your way back up to your room, numbly changing into one of your suits so you could at least look somewhat presentable. 
You hardly even recognize yourself in the mirror as you wipe off your smudged makeup from your night out. Your eyes are vacant and your expression so empty that you think you could almost be looking at a statue. 
War with the Guild. Dazai in the hospital.
Everything is catching up to you at the same time and your mind is fraying at its seams, collapsing in on itself as the weight of everything bears down on you. You do your best to compartmentalize, focus on one thing at a time but you can’t even concentrate on one issue. 
You try to figure out what to do about the upcoming conflict, try to determine what exactly Fitzgerald might be planning so you can figure out what the Port Mafia will retaliate with, and your mind drifts to Dazai, you wonder if he’s okay, if he’s in critical condition, if it was one of your enemies that got to him or if it was something else.
You think about Dazai, all of the fear and guilt and anxiety tearing you apart, and your mind shoots straight to the Guild. Because if Fitzgerald knows about Dazai—if he knows about Dazai—then it’s over. It’s all over. If the Guild gets their hands on him, they’ll kill him when you don’t give them what they want because you can’t give them what they want. They want Yokohama and you can’t give them that. 
You can’t, not even for Dazai.
You don’t even register that you’re standing in front of the elevator again until it bings, startling you right out of your thoughts. You can’t leave the building while you’re spiraling like this—you need to get a grip on yourself, you don’t even know where you’re going yet. You need to figure out if you’re going to go meet with Mori and the other executives or if you’re going to go find Dazai. 
As you step into the elevator, it takes all but five seconds for you to make a decision.
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Dazai wakes up to the familiar scent of antiseptic and a citrus-scented floor cleaning solution, the air is too stale and the air-conditioning is cranked up too high. He forces his eyes open, lids heavy and uncooperative, but he immediately lets them fall shut again briefly when he’s met with too white walls and the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to him.
His throat feels swollen as he stares up at the ceiling—the last time he was here in the hospital he was seventeen and had nearly bled out in the bathtub in Odasaku’s house. The only reason he hadn’t was because Ango happened to stop by the house to pick up papers that Odasaku had left for him, finding Dazai unconscious and face half-submerged in the water. He woke up here to find both of them hovering over him, Ango concerned and Odasaku visibly upset for the first time since Dazai met him.
He wakes up alone now because Odasaku is dead and he hasn’t spoken to Ango in four years—doesn’t even know where the man is anymore, doesn’t even know if he’s alive, doesn’t want to know either.
“Dazai-sama.” He hears a nurse say from the door to his room. “You’re awake, how are you…”
The nurse’s voice becomes white noise with the beeping of the heart monitor and the vents blowing above. Dazai retreats back into his own mind—a dangerous place, but right now it’s safer than the white walls that surround him, knowing he’s going to be badgered with questions that he doesn’t want to have to answer. 
How are you feeling, Dazai-sama? 
What happened, Dazai-sama? 
We need to ask you a few questions, Dazai-sama.
Dazai feels defeated.
His head falls to the side as he stares out the nearby window, watching as a bird swoops down in view before taking off into the sky.
He doesn’t even remember what happened. He remembers leaving your apartment, he remembers… he remembers seeing your texts, your plans to wipe his memory. And… that’s about it? He vaguely remembers the familiar feeling of his lungs burning, remembers being tossed around by the rough currents of Tsurumi River. He doesn’t remember how he got there but it’s not exactly hard for him to piece together—even now, Dazai thinks he would rather be dead than have his memories forcibly erased.
“… to know what exactly hap…”
A dark and familiar cloud settles over him. His eyes feel heavy and his chest hurts. Dazai—he doesn’t even know what to think anymore. He’s so tired that his bones ache and his muscles feel so weak that he just sinks into the stiff mattress of the hospital bed.
He doesn’t know what he expected—he thinks that to some extent he expected you to leave him. Everyone has left him. His mother, his aunt, all of the brief friends he’d made over the years before they see him for what he is, Odasaku and Ango—everyone has left him, so he knew that you would too but… in this manner? Using an ability to wipe his memory of you?
Dazai has considered it before. He’s wondered if maybe his life would be easier if he could just… forget. If he could live without the memory of everyone who has left him hanging over him. Some days, on really bad days, he thinks it might be easier. To try to make himself feel better, he thinks that maybe he isn’t the issue, maybe it’s all just a self-fulfilling prophecy, that it’s his past experiences cursing him to make the same mistakes over and over again; that without them, he might stand a chance.
But then when he thinks about it—when he really thinks about it—he knows in his heart that it’s not true, and he knows that without the memory of them all, Dazai will only feel more empty. And to think that you were trying to take his memories of you from him… without even asking, without giving him a choice in the matter… it almost makes Dazai-
“Dazai.”
His gaze snaps to the side when he hears your familiar voice come from the door leading into his room. Instantly, he’s shaking his head and looking away again, he can’t even bear to look at you but you’re walking over to him, you’re coming to his bedside, you’re sitting next to him on the hospital bed and you’re reaching out to cup his cheek, forcibly turning his face to make him look at you. You look worried, something sharp and concerned in your eyes that makes his throat swell and he wants to spit at you and call you a liar but he can only sink into your touch.
“Why are you here?” he asks. His voice is hoarse, almost painful for him to use. 
“What happened?” you ask him quietly instead of answering his question—you never answer his questions, you always deflect, always maneuver around them. The ones you do answer, it’s only because you plan to- “Dazai, what happened? Are you okay?”
Dazai doesn’t know how you can look at him like this all the while planning the most diabolical betrayal that he could ever imagine. You’re either an actress deserving of international recognition or… or Dazai doesn’t even know.
“I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Why are you here?”
“The hospital called me-”
“But why are you here?” Dazai cuts you off, grateful that his voice is firmer than the turmoil wreaking havoc through him. He must’ve given them your number while he was half-delirious when he was brought in—he figured that out already—but that doesn’t explain why you actually came. “Why did you come?”
“Because you’re hurt,” you say as if Dazai should believe you. 
And he wants to believe you. Wants to believe that you’d come running just at the mere idea of him being hurt, wants to believe that you would care enough to come for him. He wants to believe you so bad, but he knows what he saw. 
“Don’t lie to me,” Dazai tells you, finally gathering the willpower to pull his face away from where it’s resting in the palm of your hand. You don’t even let him shift away, hand slipping behind him to cradle the back of his head, fingers entwined with his hair. “Stop.”
“I’m not lying to you,” you say like a liar. “Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
You sigh heavily and Dazai hates the way you’re absently drawing circles against the nape of his neck with your thumb, hates how it makes him feel at ease and especially hates the way his lashes instinctually flutter shut.
“I didn’t mean what I said last night, Dazai,” you say so quietly that Dazai almost believes you. Almost. “I was drunk, I didn’t… I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean-”
“I don’t care about that,” Dazai says, proud of the way his voice stays sharp and cold. “I saw the messages between you and Tolstoy. I know what you’re planning. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t even want to look at you, just leave me alone.”
You draw back at his words, concerned expression melting into a blank slate as you pull your hand away to sit back straight. Dazai misses your touch instantly, longs for the warmth to return but he forces himself to ignore it all, keeping his gaze pinned on you, watching the way your mind races behind your eyes. He wonders if you’re trying to figure out if you can salvage this, wonders if you’re going to lie.
Instead, a heavy look settles over your face as you frown, glancing back at the way you came and for a moment, Dazai thinks you’re just going to leave. You rise to your feet and words lodge in the back of his throat, preparing to spit insults at you: he wants to call you a coward, a liar, wants to tell you that you’re cruel and vile and he can hardly even stand to look at you.
But then you look back at him and hold out your hand to him. “Come on,” you tell him. “Let’s sneak you out of here… I’ll explain everything when we get out of the hospital.”
Dazai wants to be spiteful, wants to turn his head away and ignore you, wants to slap your hand and tell you that there’s no explaining what he saw.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he places his hand in yours and lets that treacherous, treacherous spec of hope bloom in his chest again.
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Dazai hasn’t spoken a word since leaving the hospital. You’ve tried to make small talk with him, but every time, he just turns his head away to look out the window. You gave up twenty minutes ago and Dazai is already regretting not indulging conversation with you because the silence is agonizing. He knows he should break it, but he doesn't know how to now. 
He glances at you from the corner of your eye. You’re leaning back against your seat, one hand on the steering wheel—he can’t see your eyes because they’re masked by sunglasses, but he can see the way your free hand rests on the gear stick, knuckles tense.
“What is this place?” Dazai clears his throat as he leans forward in his seat, peering out the windshield of your car to try to figure out where you’re taking him. He forces his tone to lighten, the smile on his lips strained. “Are you kidnapping me? Oh! Or are you taking me to some remote cabin to kill me? Bella, you truly know the way to a man’s heart.”
You let out a heavy sigh, one that makes Dazai toss a sweet smile in your direction. 
Some type of beach house, he recognizes as you pull up a windy road to the top of a cliff looking over the water. He can see to his left a path leading down to the water and to his right a nice view of a distant pier. It’s not a large house, but it’s nice—well-kept and refurbished with a view over Sagami Bay. It’s not too far out from Yokohama, probably only a little over an hour, but considering Dazai’s never left the city in his entire life, this might be the furthest he’s ever been. He can almost feel a bit of excitement bubbling in his chest. 
“I wanted to take you here, away from the city for a bit,” you finally say, fingers thrumming against the wheel of the car as you slowly guide the car up the gravel path. “So we can talk in peace.”
Your bland words whittle away his excitement and Dazai’s smile falters. He tries to distract himself with counting the strands hanging off the sleeve of his sweater but keeps losing count.
“Something you couldn’t have talked to me about in Yokohama?” Dazai asks airly as you pull to a stop in front of the beach house. 
He doesn’t turn to look at you, doesn’t move until you finally get out of the car, reaching into the back seat to grab two duffle bags, nodding for him to follow you.
Wow, he thinks dryly, you came prepared.
Dazai feels distinctly like he’s walking to his execution as he follows you to the steps leading up to the house, but instead of walking up them, you toss the bags on the porch and then continue up the path.
You’re going to push him off a cliff, Dazai thinks, feet dragging against the gravel as he follows you. This is it, all of the years that he’s longed for death and it’s finally about to find him at your hands. 
“I might not die from the fall,” Dazai says, words drawn long as he pouts. “You wouldn’t really leave me to suffer in freezing water, would you?”
“No,” you say, glancing back at him. He lets out a quiet breath of relief that’s quickly snuffed out when you add, “I’m not that sloppy with my kills. I’d kill you before dumping your body over the side of the cliff.”
Dazai blanches, but your lips curl up into an amused smile so he settles down, sighing as he purposely knocks his shoulder with yours.
“My bella is so cruel,” he sighs dramatically. “She hates me.”
You sigh as you reach the edge of the cliff, not turning to look at him. The wind whips around the two of you—it’s a cool, early spring night, the temperature just enough to be uncomfortable but you don’t seem bothered by it as you stare out across the water as the sun starts to set.
You’re beautiful, Dazai thinks, breath catching at the sight of you beneath the setting sun. The golden rays cast an ethereal glow over you, the wind ruffles your clothes and hair, and your expression is solemn in a way that’s become terribly familiar the past few weeks.
“I’m not going to do anything with the video,” Dazai finally says, voice quiet—finally taking the chance to say what he wanted to say last night. “You don’t have to keep… pandering to me because you’re trying to protect yourself. I was never going to do anything with it, I just… wanted you to give me a chance.”
When you look over your shoulder, you give Dazai a small, genuine smile that makes all of the air whoosh from his lungs. 
“Dazai, I’ve known you weren’t going to do anything with that video since day one,” you say, amused. “If I thought you were, I would’ve had someone confiscate it from your apartment.”
Dazai’s lips part, mind racing. “But then why-”
Your smile softens at the edges and you sigh as you lower yourself down to the ground, feet dangling off the edge of the cliff. Dazai joins you, thigh brushing yours and shoulders absently knocking together. Your hands rest in your lap and Dazai’s fingers twitch to reach for yours. He only hardly refrains himself.
“I don’t remember a life before this,” you say after a few moments, a distant look in your eyes as you stare ahead. “When I was seven… eight, maybe, I was pulled out of a warzone by the current leader of the Mafia. I don’t even remember my parents—anything about them. Their names. Faces. What they sounded like, what their job was. Mori… he found me in my town sitting in the middle of a whole pile of bodies and I couldn’t even point out which pair of corpses were my parents. I don’t remember anything before him… It’s all just black. Blurred.”
Dazai stares at you, eyes a bit wide as he listens to you speak. His lips part to say something but he decides against it, instead he seals his lips back shut and presses his shoulder against yours. Mori—that was the other name pinned up with Dazai’s message thread and Nakahara Chuuya’s—he must be the Port Mafia boss. His gaze traces your face as you stare ahead, catching the melancholic expression on your face. He itches to reach for your hand.
“I could hardly remember anything about myself. My first name… that’s just about it. My new birthday became the day Mori found me, my new surname—when needed—was his, he… he became my reason to live when I had none. Gave me a purpose,” you tell him faintly. “I spent two years on a warfront trying to figure out what my ability was so I could be the finishing touches of the immortal regiment that he was trying to create. As far as I remember, all I’ve known is… this. Him.”
Dazai wants to say something but every word he tries to push out dies on his tongue. Instead, he finally does reach out to grab your hand, fingers curling around yours tightly. You look down briefly, an unreadable expression on your face before it softens and… and for a split second, Dazai can see you, he can see you: not a hardened executive of a mafia, but an eight-year-old girl, lost and confused and landing in the arms of the wrong man, and it makes him sick.
The traitorous part of him wonders if you’re only telling him this because you still plan on following through with the memory wipe, so Dazai does what he always does when someone threatens to take one of the few things he wants—he digs his claws in and doesn’t let go. 
“The war ended before I could figure out how to use my ability and I followed… him to the underground. We ended up with the Port Mafia while the previous boss and his family were still leading. He was…” You trail off, frowning. “Dangerous. Yokohama was a terrible place under his leadership. He slaughtered civilians who spoke poorly about him and the Mafia, killed his own men for looking at him wrong… Mori became his doctor and for the good of the city, he decided to kill him.”
“I remember the old boss—what he did to the city,” Dazai says quietly—how could he not? His aunt was terrified of being in Yokohama because of him, was constantly talking about leaving the city… she finally did after dumping Dazai off in Suribachi and leaving him to fend for himself against the wolves. “It was bad.”
“It was,” you agree absently. “Mori—he wanted it to be as bloodless as possible. He tried every route, but the only way for it to be bloodless was if he had someone to corroborate that the previous boss died in his sleep and left the Port Mafia to him.”
Dazai almost scoffs.
“No one would believe that.”
“We’d hoped maybe one of his grandchildren would step up. Even if it was clearly a lie, people would have to listen because they were his blood,” you say with a wry smile. “They didn’t.”
“So, what happened then?” he presses when you don’t immediately continue. He frowns when he catches the sudden change in your demeanor, like you’re sick to your stomach, unable to push out the next words. He feels a bit dreadful, squeezing your hand gently. 
“We had to wipe out the whole family,” you whisper, looking down at your lap, “and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s granddaughter—she was asleep, had a bear tucked in her arm and a nightlight on the right side of her bed. I slit her throat, then both of her older brothers. They were kids.”
Oh.
Dazai’s throat spasm as he swallows, the picture forming in his head cold and chilling, but instead he forces out:
“You were a kid too.”
“No, I wasn’t. Hadn’t been for a long time,” you say, voice flat, leaving no room for argument. “We hunted down the whole bloodline, immediate to extended family. Mori was insistent on it, said we couldn’t risk one of them ever returning and upending everything we’ve built. He’s still searching for some to this day just to make sure.”
That’s… foreboding to say the least. Dazai watches you carefully, the grim expression on your face and the frown on your lips. He pulls your hand into his lap, tracing your fingers gently to try to ease you and he watches from the corner of his eye as your expression softens again when you look at him. It makes his chest feel tight and fluttery.
“I was sixteen when I met Itou.” The cold expression on your face warms at the unfamiliar name. Dazai watches as the corner of your lips curve up into a fond smile, as if you’re reminiscing. “He was seventeen. We were partnered up for years. This was his beach house—or, well, I don’t know whose it was but Itou took it. He was awful, honestly. A terrible fucking person, had more blood on his hands than any other member of the Mafia, found way too much joy in tormenting people. He was awful, but he was the closest thing I had to family. He tried to show me a world beyond just… bloodshed and violence. Took me to amusement parks on days off, snuck me onto school trips with random groups of kids and told me to ‘blend in’ as training for infiltration missions, showed me how to live, not just… survive. He died on a mission a few weeks after I turned eighteen, made me promise him that I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be without him, that I’d at least try to be happy.”
Double oh.
Dazai almost does throw up now, mind drawing back to a face that has been haunting Dazai for four years now, Odasaku’s last words ring through his head painfully—a reminder of his own inadequacy, of his failure to fulfill his friend’s dying wish.
He remembers the way your face shifted when he told you about Odasaku at Kido’s Boutique and he wonders if he’d reminded you of Itou back then when he spoke of the man and his promise, just like how he was reminded now. His grip on your hand tightens unintentionally—as if you can sense his thoughts, you squeeze his fingers gently. 
“I didn’t,” you say with a tight smile. “Threw myself into work, accepted that my fate was to live, breathe and die for the Port Mafia. I didn’t see the point of anything—well, not until I met you, at least.”
Dazai’s eyes flicker up to you, breath catching when you meet his gaze this time. And god, you look beautiful—so beautiful that Dazai thinks that if he dies now, he could die happy. He almost wishes that he could die now, fall off the side of the cliff with the image of you burned behind his eyelids. It would be a better death than he deserved.
“You made me happy. Make me happy,,” you tell him quietly and Dazai’s heart leaps into his throat. “So effortlessly that I can’t even understand how you do it, but it’s impossible for me to justify dragging you into this world just because I’m selfish.” Dazai parts his lips to disagree but you don’t even give him a chance to speak. “So when you came to me with your stupid blackmail, it was so… easy to just use it as an excuse for me to indulge in you.”
Dazai doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t get it. You’re sitting here talking to him, explaining everything, and Dazai still doesn’t understand. He makes you happy—he makes you happy and you make him happy, there doesn’t need to be any more complications than that. You don’t have to push him away, you don’t have to cut him off, you don’t have to use that memory wiping ability on him.
“I don’t understand,” Dazai says, voice hoarse. “You make me happy too, so why is…”
“Because Chuuya is right,” you say with a smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “The risks… Dazai, you can’t ask me to put you in danger like this. It’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair to cut me off because you’re scared,” Dazai counters, voice a bit pitched. “It’s not fair that you want to wipe my memory without my consent. I don’t care about danger, I don’t-”
You look at him sharply, an intense expression on your face that makes Dazai hesitate.
“I never would have done it without talking to you first,” you say tightly. “Do you really think that little of me?”
Dazai looks away, not answering the question. “I never would have agreed to it,” he replies, voice equally tight as yours. “Never. It’d be a waste of your time.”
You sigh and Dazai feels you shift next to him but he pointedly keeps his gaze trained ahead, refusing to look at you. He feels your fingers brush his cheek before the pressure becomes a bit firmer as you turn his face so that he’s looking at you. You’re so close that his nose brushes yours, the pads of your fingers are warm against his skin; if he leans in just a bit, he’d be able to kiss you.
He wants to kiss you.
“You don’t know what’s at stake,” you say softly, breath fanning across his lips as you speak. He can almost taste the mixture of mint and nicotine on your lips—you smoke when you’re nervous, he’s noticed it over the past few weeks with you. The more nervous you are, the more cigarettes you run through; he wonders how many cigarettes you’ve gone through since you’ve gotten the call from the hospital. “The danger-”
“You want me,” Dazai whispers, squeezing your hand, leaning in a bit more. “No one has ever wanted me before. Not like this. Not for me. You want me.”
The last sentence—it doesn’t come out as a statement, it comes out as a plea. He wants you to say it. You didn’t the last time, but he needs to hear it now. Desperately. His nails dig into your hands, he doesn’t even dare to breathe as he waits for you to speak.
“I want you,” you agree, voice so quiet like you don’t even dare to speak the words out loud in fear of the consequences of them. “I want you. I want you so bad that it scares me, Dazai Osamu.”
And Dazai breathes. The breath he lets out is long and shaky, the relief that sweeps over him is almost debilitating. He searches your eyes to make sure you mean it and when he only finds honesty and a type of fear that he’s never seen in you before, Dazai knows.
“You think it doesn’t scare me?” Dazai asks you, voice cracking. “Everything I ever come to want is always lost. Ever since that first day we met, I-I knew that I wanted you more than anything I’ve ever wanted before and I’ve been terrified that one day you’ll leave me. Promise me that you won’t. Promise me.”
You stare at him and for a terrible moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to shake your head and say you can’t, but then you swallow, nod and say, “I promise.”
Dazai kisses you. And then he kisses you again. And again. And again. Until his lungs burn and he can feel your lips curve up against his and even then, he kisses you still. Kisses you as the sun sets over the bay and the moon rises above the mountains. Kisses you until the wind becomes too bitter for the two of you to stay outside and still, he smiles as he peppers kisses across your face, walking back down the path to the beach house.
He ignores how your phone has been buzzing incessantly all night, praying for at least one day of peace before reality slaps the two of you in the face again.
423 notes · View notes
dannyricsmirrorball · 1 year ago
Text
tying the knot • cl16 part 2 ੈ✩‧₊˚
ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing || charles leclerc x gasly!reader
ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au
ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || everyone is together on break for some reason, perhaps a wedding. question is… whose is it?
alt. y/n is pierre’s younger sister. there’s no way she’s dating his best friend aka her childhood friend… right?
ੈ✩‧₊˚ warning || google translate 😬
ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || so sorry this took a-bit more time to get out then i initially planned but nevertheless hope you enjoy!! one more part after this x. i lied
NOT PROOF READ YET!
part 1 here!
august 2023
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 1,698,092 others
yourusername forever & always
username2 WHAT?!
username18 please don’t tell me we lost y/n to a guy and a marriage all in one day
username1 I AM HYPERVENTILATING
username9 WHO IS THAT MAN?
username33 y/n is MARRIED?!
username14 omfg she’s so stunning
username81 y/n cheated on me 😭
username72 everyone losing their minds over the guy but i just wanna know who from the grid went
username18 i NEED to know who was in the wedding party
pierregasly jolie fille 🩷
francisca.cgomes sexiest bride out
⤷ yourusername stop it i’m blushing 🫣😘
charles_leclerc 🤍
⤷ username55 u guys don’t think…
⤷ username16 omfg i’d actually cry if it was him, i’ve shipped them forever like they’re literally childhood friends to lovers, brothers best friend/best friends sister, slowburn irl… but realistically it’s defs not
lilymhe the cutest 🥹 but make sure he knows ur still MY wife
⤷ yourusername ofc ofc baby
⤷ alex_albon oh?
luisinhaoliveira99 congrats my girl 😍
estebanocon ouah y/n!
lorenzotl félicitations petite soeur
⤷ yourusername enzo 🥹
⤷ username62 lorenzo calling y/n his little sister I COULD CRY
alex_albon nice!
georgerussell63 congratulations! 👏
carmenmmundt 🩷🩷
joris__trouche belle cérémonie y/n!
⤷ yourusername ❤️
arthur_leclerc 😄😄
heidiberger_ blushing bride!
leclerc_pascale ma belle fille
⤷ yourusername merci maman ❤️
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liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc, and 108,873 others
lilymhe my best friend in the world got cuffed 🥂
tagged yourusername
yourusername the best maid of honour i could’ve asked for 🥹🩷
⤷ lilymhe forever babe 🤍
yourusername u next!!! alex_albon
⤷ alex_albon maybe she’ll stop calling u her wife then 😵‍💫
⤷ lilymhe NEVER
username23 OMFG LILY WAS HER MAID OF HONOUR 😭😭
username9 LILY AND ALEX WERE AT THE WEDDING!!!now we know people from the grid were defs there, now onto who else!
⤷ username11 i mean obv they would be… lily and y/n are best friends. also pierre and kika were obviously there bc he’s her brother, charles and his brothers probably too bc they’re childhood friends, and based on who else was in italy for what was obviously the hens night and bachelor party - carlos, carmen, george, heidi, danny, luisa, lando, isa, carla, charlotte
luisinhaoliveira99 the fits 🥵
alex_albon top night yourusername charles_leclerc
alex_albon top night yourusername
⤷ lilymhe omg alex
⤷ yourusername don’t pretend that wasn’t on purpose
⤷ username72 what are they talking abt?
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 279,093 others
francisca.cgomes parabéns linda menina. eu te amo minha irmã, sempre e para sempre. 💒
translation: congratulations beautiful girl. i love you my sister, always and forever. 💒
tagged yourusername
username15 gonna cry… kika calling y/n her sister 😭😭
username8 the best sister-in-laws
yourusername kika 🥹🥹 the best sister ever
alex_albon LMFAO y/n crying in the third slide 💀
⤷ yourusername watch it albono
⤷ lilymhe idk if my eyes were deceiving me but i’m pretty certain i saw u welling up
⤷ georgerussell63 no no ur eyes weren’t deceiving u, alex cried like a little bitch
⤷ alex_albon UM OK?? i’ve watched them grow up waht did u expect 😫 also george i know u aren’t speaking
⤷ yourusername awww that’s rlly sweet alex
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liked by georgerussell63, yourusername, and 109,039 others
carmenmmundt felicidades linda 🤍
tagged yourusername, georgerussell63
yourusername carmen!! 🩷
username63 carmen slaying the wedding fit TRUST she will always show UP
georgerussell63 😍😍
username62 everyone going all in and out for y/n’s wedding, as they shouldddd
alex_albon george looking fitty
⤷ username2363 galex rights!
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liked by danielricciardo, lancestroll, and 100,633 others
heidiberger_ cutest weekend! many well wishes to my girl yourusername 🤍
username4 omg danny and heidi look SO good
yourusername love u!!! thanku my love 🤍
username3 this is frfr the wedding of the year
username99 scotty and blake were there?? y/n fr knows EVERYONE
⤷ username8 love how we’ve all collectively ignored that the groom also has family and friends 😭
danielricciardo 😫
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liked by scottyjames31, chloestroll, and 187,828 others
daniel3.jpg the royal wedding p1
tagged yourusername, heidiberger_, scottyjames31
username3 heidi and daniel look so perfect 😭
username82 i’m sorry but how many outfit changes did y/n have?!? i love thoooo
yourusername so glad both ur girlfriend and boyfriend could attend
yourusername omg danny 🥹 these are so perfect
scottyjames31 looking fresh DR
username6 i want daniel3.jpg to photograph my wedding
username85 her wedding was literally a DREAM. like the venue, the guest list, the multiple dresses, DANNYRIC PHOTOGRAPHY
username64 the parasols 😍
lando.jpg all my photos turned out crap sorry yourusername
⤷ alex_albon yeah bc u were on the piss mate
⤷ yourusername it’s okay lan just glad u had fun
charles_leclerc thanku daniel.
⤷ daniel3.jpg oh charles don’t thank me yet. this is part 1…
⤷ charles_leclerc daniel.
⤷ daniel3.jpg i take bribes in the form of cash 😄
⤷ yourusername money badger frfr
⤷ username36 oh no what dirt does danny have on charles?!
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 1,898,727 others
maxverstappen1 many congrats to the happy couple!
username92 even max was there?!
danielricciardo looking fitty maxxie
⤷ maxverstappen1 all for you
⤷ heidiberger_ i get the struggle now carmenmmundt lilymhe
username18 just max lookin this good for the wedding of the centuryyy
username74 losing lestappen but at least it’s to y/n
⤷ username14 ITS NOT CHARLES
yourusername thanku maxy 🩷
landonorris he’s laughing at my jokes here 😝😘
⤷ charles_leclerc *laughing at you
username16 IM SORRY BUT LIKE- charles doesn’t even follow max but he’s liked and commented….
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liked by yourusername, carla.brocker, and 299,882 others
arthur_leclerc fiancé à marié 🤍
tagged yourusername, lorenzotl, leclerc_pascale, charles_leclerc, pierregasly
username84 so arthur was at the engagement…
⤷ username82 hmmm interesting
carla.brocker 🩷🩷
yourusername love uuu thurthur 🤍🤍
username80 just arthur posting for his brother’s wedding 😝
username73 the picture of the gasly and leclerc siblings with jules and tom IM SO SOFT
charles_leclerc mate where did you find that picture 😦 long time ago, great memories ❤️
username46 guys idk if u understand how crazy it was that he was at the engagement…
⤷ username55 is normal for friends and family to be there for the engagement
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liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris, and 583,378 others
carlossainz55 congrats to the happy couple!
tagged yourusername, landonorris
username18 by the tags you’d think y/n and lando got married 💀
landonorris hot
username7 carlos posting lando like they’re a couple LOL
yourusername grazie chilli 😘
charles_leclerc looking good mate 👌
username72 awww carlos was there as well 🥹
⤷ username46 obv had to be there for his teammates wedding
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liked by yourusername, luisinhaoliveira99, and 677,828 others
landonorris don’t remember much 🍾🍾
tagged luisinhaoliveira99, yourusername
luisinhaoliveira99 🥰
username27 he cleans up NICE
username52 how drunk did he get? 💀
yourusername not surprised lan
carlossainz55 😍
alex_albon i remember everything…
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liked by lorenzotl, charles_leclerc, 27,727 others
charlotte2304 🔔💐 love you yourusername
tagged carla.brocker
username8 ahhh leclerc wags at y/n’s wedding 🥰
lorenzotl ❤️
carla.brocker pretty 🩷
yourusername 🥹 love u love u love u 🥹
username26 y/n’s sister in laws…?
username3 stop being delulu
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liked by luisinhaoliveira99, carlossainz55, and 200,929 others
isahernaez el amor está en el aire. espero que la vida de casados ​​te trate bien, la ceremonia más bonita y me lo pasé genial jugando a decir sí al vestido! 🥂💒
translation: love is in the air. i hope married life treats you well, the most beautiful ceremony and i had a great time playing say yes to the dress!
tagged yourusername
username18 ahhh i love their friendship sm
username66 isa helped pick y/n’s dress 😭 y/n never beating those ferrari wags rumours
yourusername isa 😭 thanku for everything 🥹 i’m gonna cry
luisinhaoliveira99 sooo pretty!!
username7 her and y/n still being friends 🫂🫂
carlossainz55 😍
⤷ username55 🤨
charlottesiine isaaaa 🤩
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liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and 109,837 others
daniel3.jpg p2
tagged yourusername, landonorris, pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc
username71 danny coming in w the content he knew we wanted
username14 pierre and kika 🥹
username35 omg ofc they all jumped in the pool. wouldn’t expect anything less from this bunch 😭
username82 omfg this looks so much fun
username27 lando getting litty 💀💀
⤷ username2 lmfao look at charles tho 😭
yourusername foolish of me to think these wouldn’t make the cut but at least none of mine are totally embarra 💀
username16 oh to get drunk and party at y/n’s wedding reception w the grid + the entire f1 community
username8 sorry i’m actually creasing at charles. this must be what he was talking abt on the other post lmfao.
charles_leclerc GIVE ME MY 50 BACK
⤷ lilymhe 50? daniel u do not know how to play the game
⤷ usernams74 did charles really expect 50€ to silence the money badger?
username81 oh charles was GONE gone
username72 y/n planned this so perfectly. making sure it was during summer break when the entire grid was off so they could get wasted without having to worry
scuderiaferrari what is our driver doing…? that’s just bc your so happy right charles… right?
⤷ charles_leclerc look away admin. look away 😔
⤷ daniel3.jpg drunk on happiness 🤣🤣
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liked by leclerc_pascale, olliebearman, and 120,838 others
lorenzotl nous vous avons vu grandir ensemble, maintenant vieillir ensemble.
translation: we watched you grow up together, now grow old together.
tagged yourusername, leclerc_pascale, charles_leclerc, pierregasly
username23 ummm does this mean what i think it means?!
username16 IM SORRY??? is lorenzo saying that y/n’s husband is CHARLES
username22 THIS IS HOW I WINNNNN. childhood friends to lovers EXCELLENCE
yourusername awww enzo 🥹
leclerc_pascale mes beaux enfants 🤍
arthur_leclerc oh 😒😒
⤷ yourusername youngest child struggles arth 🤷‍♀️😫
⤷ pierregasly sucks to suck
charles_leclerc oh putain how old we are!
username52 this is CRAZY like i’m so happy but i never thought this would become real
username91 going to SOB look at pascale fixing up y/n’s makeup 😭
⤷ username23 she watched her grow up and now she’s watching her marry her son 😭
username18 i still think that it’s not charles. like why would they hide that
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 1,720,737 others
charles_leclerc my best friend is married 🤍 si fier 😘
tagged yourusername
username99 lol nvm
username87 i’m actually going to SOB
username2 damn i’m still rooting for them
username9 the pic of him y/n and pierre OH IM GONNA CRY
yourusername ❤️
username7 WHY LORENZO WHY DID U TEASE US LIKE THAT?? MAKING US BELIEVE IT WAS CHARLES.
⤷ username86 he’s delulu like us
⤷ username72 he’s still manifesting. biggest y/n charles shipper.
username16 waiting for him to say ‘to me’ 😭 PLEASE
pierregasly mate how long ago was that 😮‍💨
username91 charles and that damn 😘 emoji
username74 i can feel the pining and yearning from here
username62 i just know mans is going thru it. he has had the fattest most obvious crush on her foreverrrr.
username43 dc what anyone says. this doesn’t mean anything. like this could still be a husband posting his wife.
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liked by yourusername, francisca.cgomes, and 493,938 others
pierregasly félicitations ma petite. celebrating my best friends tonight!
tagged yourusername, francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, lorenzotl
username37 i’m gonna sob. their relationship is so special to me.
username14 the pic of them dancing 😭😭
username01 best brother sister duo
username16 ‘celebrating my best friends’ hmmmm ur not slick pierre
⤷ username92 or he’s just best friends w her husband. charles isn’t his only best friend.
yourusername pierre 🥹🥹
username81 IM SORRY BUT THE LAST PIC COME ON
username36 im not one to feed into rumours but like why would lorenzo, arthur, pierre, AND charles include baby pics of all of them if it’s not y/n and charles
⤷ username63 y/n is practically family to the leclerc. they grew up w her. she’s like they’re sister.
⤷ username36 see id get that but why would pierre include a baby pic of all of them instead of just him and y/n. like it’s y/n’s wedding and he’s her sister. what does that have to do w the leclercs.
⤷ username16 RIGHT like i get if the leclercs just did that but pierre also including it and tagging the leclercs… like they’re joining families idk man
username91 i’m totally not crying abt the baby pic of y/n and then the pic of her at her wedding holding her cousin’s baby
username27 i’m sorry pierre but i could recognise that jaw from a mile away
username72 all these people saying it’s charles. r u forgetting his post where he said his BEST FRIEND is married???
⤷ username46 people can like yk lie
⤷ username16 he said his best friend is married. he could mean married to him?
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 493,982 others
yourusername a fairytale 💒
username73 her wedding was a literal fairytale
username27 the shoes 😲 jaw dropped
username86 eating up every piece of content from this wedding. especially any of y/n and her husband 😩
lilymhe my princess 🥹
⤷ yourusername loml iloveuiloveiloveu thanku sm for everything and all of ur help lils
username92 those flower girls look so cute 😭
pierregasly nuit émouvante petit. tellement heureux pour vous deux.
⤷ yourusername je t’aime
francisca.cgomes best night ever linda ✨✨
carlossainz55 so happy for the both of you 👏👏
arthur_leclerc no one deserves it more ❤️
⤷ yourusername mon petit frère 🥺
charles_leclerc ma meilleure pote
taglist: @dl-yum @honey6578 @lillianacristina @xcinnamongirl @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10
2K notes · View notes
taintedcigs · 1 year ago
Text
we’d still worship this love — e.m.
part two of even if it’s a false god.
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pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader
warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI. p in v, cr*ampie, unprotected s*x, angstangstangst, eddie regrets everything!!, jealous eddie, a bit of protective steve, drinking, swearing, praises, nicknames, fluff!!
summary: in which eddie regrets what he said to you. (wc:6.3k+)
a/n: literally the lyrics match up soooo well w the story imo im sorry for the last line ok i rlly tried to hold myself back not to directly write any lyrics lmao. this is CHEESY. i hate THE ENDING. as usual! but im so glad u guys liked pt. one and i didn't want to deprave any of u !!! i did not proof-read so pls ignore any mistakes!! hope u guys enjoy this lmk what u think mwah!!
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Eddie sighed as he checked the kitchen, you were still nowhere to be found.
He had fucked up.
So badly.
He grabbed the half-empty red cup sitting on the kitchen stand. A whiff of alcohol hit his senses as soon as he tried to sniff it; it reeked, but Eddie didn’t care at this point, downing it like it was water.
He grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting in his back pocket, walking miserably toward the backyard as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips.
“Let’s get you to Steve’s, yeah?” The voice that passed by him was quick to grab his attention.
Robin.
“Robin?” He exclaimed excitedly, causing Robin to mouth “Don’t”.
He took a step to get closer to you but stopped quickly in his tracks; he had caused enough fucking damage.
He made his bed, and now he needed to lie in it.
He watched as you and Robin left, leaving him all alone. 
2 HOURS LATER
DON’T ANSWER: im so fuckhjing sorry
DON’T ANSWER: i didnt fuckingmeanit lije that i swear
DON’T ANSWER: pls talk to me
DON’T ANSWER: r u at steve? i can come
DON’T ANSWER: pleaseeeeee we can’t leave things like this. 
You heaved a sigh reading his texts, he was drunk again, and you weren’t going to entertain him.
You blocked this contact. 
“He’s texting me.” You groaned, chucking your phone away as you plopped yourself onto Steve’s bed.
“What did he say?” Steve asked curiously.
“He wants to see me and talk, he’s drunk again.” You replied curtly, head still filled with the words he uttered to you.
“I just… I can’t believe he’d say that.” Robin chimed in, shaking her head.
“I could. He’s an asshole.” You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah… but I always thought he had a soft spot for you.” Robin muttered.
You chuckled dryly. “He has a soft spot for my body.” You crinkled with disgust.
Robin shook her head as she spoke. “No, I mean it, Y/N… I really don’t believe he meant it like—” 
Steve was quick to interrupt. “Jesus, Robin, stop making excuses for him. I know he’s your friend and all, but he fucked up. And there’s nothing he can do now to ever take back the things he did to her!” He exclaimed, the two of them started bickering back and forth. 
You wanted to sink into the bed; you so badly wanted to believe Robin, believe that Eddie’s words were all just a lie, just something he made up on the spot just because he was afraid. 
But Steve was right—even if it was a lie, even if it was all a huge misunderstanding, nothing he could do would undo the amount of pain he caused you. The nights you spent sobbing—nothing could change that. 
But a part of you also knew that, if Eddie ever caught you in a moment of weakness again, you’d do it all over again; you’d let him ruin you all over again, just to have him complete you for the mere seconds he made you feel loved. 
The bickering and the storm in your mind stopped with a sudden knock on Steve’s door. 
The three of you looked at each other in unison.
Shit.
Did that stupid bastard really have the audacity to come here? 
You looked over at Steve with pity, about to open your mouth and beg, plead with him to do something, and he was quick to understand your train of thought. “I got this.” He muttered, hand squeezing your knee for comfort before he attended the door. 
As soon as the door swung open, there he was, blood-shot eyes and messy hair framing his face. He was shitfaced and could barely stand against the door frame. “Munson.” Steve affirmed sternly. 
“W—where is she?” Eddie slurred, barely even letting Steve speak. 
“She’s not here.” Steve said without letting Eddie take a look. 
“Look, man… I know she is, please—” He tried to push past him, but Steve stood his ground, blocking his way before his face turned cold. 
“She doesn’t want to see you.” Steve almost hissed, the intensity of his gaze taking Eddie back. 
“Don’t make this any harder and just leave, yeah?” Steve muttered, almost shutting the door before Eddie’s heavy boots interfered. 
“Please.” Eddie pleaded, making Steve huff as he threw a quick glance your way, and you quickly shook your head, mouthing ‘no’s.
But that was it; Eddie barged in as he used Steve’s distraction to his advantage, you gasped when the door swung open, revealing Eddie. 
He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze held guilt and relief. Guilty because of the fact that he uttered those words to you. But, relieved that he saw you, relieved that he could finally explain himself to you.
Yet you looked at him with such disgust that it ached his heart, putting on a heavy ache on his chest. Every breath he took now felt like a struggle. 
“Don’t!” You seethed when he took a step toward you, Steve was quick to jump to your defence, but you waved him off. 
“Leave.” You could feel your face grow hotter with rage each time you spoke, you didn’t want him here, you wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth. 
“I’m so fucking sorry.” That was all that left his lips, his eyes were glinting with sadness, and his bottom lip trembled with guilt. 
“You have the nerve… You have the fucking nerve.” You chuckled dryly, tongue rolling inside your cheek in anger. 
“Please... Let me just explain,” He slurred. 
His drunkenness made you more angry.
“I don’t want you to!” You hissed.  
“I told you, I’m fucking done, Munson.” You spoke calmly, tears were threatening to spill, but you held your ground. 
“One fucking minute, I swear—” You heaved a sigh, and another angry chuckle escaped from your throat as you looked at Steve, as if to tell him to kick him out, signaling for help. 
“Alright,” Steve muttered. “She doesn’t wanna talk, Munson.” He spoke calmly as he held Eddie’s arm, trying to drag him out. Eddie’s protests fell deaf on your ear as you plopped yourself on the bed again, crying into Steve’s sheets as Robin played with your hair to reassure you. 
1 MONTH LATER:
Thirty fucking days.
Eddie was going to lose his mind. 
Blocked from everywhere, and you avoided him like the plague.
He knew he deserved to be shut out; he knew he didn’t deserve you. But even crumbs of information from you would have eased him.
Steve and Robin had been useless, except for today. Except for that cryptic message Robin sent him about you being at the party today. And he praised his lucky stars for that.
Until he made it to the party.
Until he finally saw you.
With Mr. Jock pinning you against the wall as you giggled at his unfunny jokes.
Jesus fucking Christ. 
Don’t make a scene, Eddie. Don’t fucking make a scene—
His lips pressed together, jaw quick to clench as he couldn’t help the way he almost sprinted toward you. He didn’t know if it was out of pure jealousy, or the fact that he had missed you so goddamn much that he couldn’t stray away from you anymore. 
“Hi, honey.” Eddie said sarcastically and chirpily, jealousy dripped from his tone, and he couldn’t help the intense gaze he had on the asshole. 
You froze in your place as soon as you recognized the voice. What the fuck was he doing? 
Standing between the two of you, “Who’s this?” Eddie spat, his hand aggressively pointing toward him. 
You rolled your eyes before you turned to him. “Don’t,” You warned, your brows shooting up and a fiery flash apparent in your eyes. 
“Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, and as if Eddie had been waiting for him to provoke him further, he gave a smug smirk. Body turning to face the asshole.
You panicked, and the ever-so apparent tension in the air grew thicker “No one.” You replied quickly, avoiding Eddie’s lingering gaze. 
“Really? You’re gonna play that card, princess?” He gave you a dry chuckle, jealousy gnawed at his insides. 
You squeezed your eyes shut to save yourself from embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to stop until this jerk wasn’t at your side. 
“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you—” You were quick to cut him off with a warning gaze, your eyes widening. 
“Eddie… This—this is Ethan.” You said through gritted teeth. 
Eddie mocked a realization face, and you wanted to punch that smirk off of his stupid smug face. “Oh…” He laughed all-knowingly.
“That Ethan? The jock?” You narrowed your eyes, annoyance setting over your face, and you couldn’t handle the heat growing in your cheeks. 
This asshole. 
“I’m sorry, man.” He chuckled, giving Ethan a harsh slap on the shoulder, a slap that wasn’t friendly in the slightest bit—and you were sure now that the tension in the space the three of you shared could be cut through with a knife.
You cleared your throat to speak up, but Ethan did it before you. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
This was the provocation Eddie needed, and you knew it; you saw that mischievous glint glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, just that she was telling me all about how fucking horrible you—”
You interrupted Eddie with a nervous giggle. “Sooo sorry! He’s just a bit drunk!” You gave Ethan a panicked smile. 
“I’ll see you around!” You called out, walking off while dragging Eddie as far away from him as possible with a harsh grip on his arm. 
You probably didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you dragged him toward the closest empty room. 
“What the fuck?!?” You yelled into his face. 
He ignored your distress. “What are you doing with him?”
“None of your business.” You hissed.
“It is my business if you get with Mr Jock again.”
“I’m not getting with—” You lowered your voice mid-sentence, annoyance taking over. 
“What part of ‘I don’t want to fucking see you ever again’ don’t you understand?” You let out through gritted teeth, your face heating from anger. 
“Did you know…” He said, completely ignoring you, and you looked at him with the same angry expression, getting tired of his antics.
“When you get angry like that, a line crinkles on your forehead, and those sweet lips pout into a frown? You look so fuckin’ cute like that.” He murmured, leaning against the wall you trapped him into.
You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, brows furrowing. 
“What the hell do you want from me?” 
“You? I mean, eventually, I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.” He smirked.
Fucking jerk.
You chuckled with an audible scoff. "Is this some kind of a joke?" You muttered under your breath, voice laced with irritation.
“You are so fucking irritating.” You spat, eyes narrowing. 
“Just… just—Leave me alone.” Your voice lowered, your face was coming closer to his, and all Eddie could think about was how nice it was to have you this close to him again, to feel your warmth again.
You could see it, the emotions his gaze held, but you didn’t want to fall for his antics again, so you turned quickly to leave.
“Please.” His pleading and his hold on your arm were what made you stop in your tracks. The way his voice cracked, you could hear the desperation. If only you didn’t care about him this fucking much…
“Please—just, hear me out.” He was almost begging, and you knew you should be running, you knew you shouldn’t care, not even to spit the venom inside of you that had been building since that night.
But you can’t help it. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, words coming out in a sharp and biting tone as your anger escalated. 
“After what you said to me...” You looked at him with a piercing stare, your eyes practically emitting flashes of irritation.
“Do you have any fucking idea how much I can’t even stomach being around you?” Your nostrils flared with every breath you took. 
“In fact, I hate you.” You spat.
“You hate me?” He asked, inching closer toward you. 
“Yes!” You snapped. 
“Then show me.” He challenged. 
“W—what?” You stuttered, your confidence dissipating in a second as the room felt so fucking small when he was standing this close to you. 
Your guard was so thinly veiled that one fucking word from him was enough to shatter it.
And you knew, with one or two more pushes from him, you’d give in. You’d give in, regardless; you had missed him more than you would ever let him know. 
And you shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.
“Take it out on me.” He whispered, gaze intentionally fixated on your lips. 
“You hate me, fine! One last time. Get me out of your system.” He’s so close to your face that when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your neck. 
He’s intoxicating—his endearing words, the jealousy, and the possessiveness—and you shouldn’t fucking fall for it. 
But it feels different this time; something is so fucking different about him that it’s throwing you off. The way his pretty lips frame the words is convincing. 
Making you believe that this would be the last time, making you believe that you could come clean off him if you had him just one more fucking time. 
You don’t say anything when you give in, your gaze lingering on his lips.
His eyes are quick to trace your face, admiring all of your features in awe, regret filling every vein in his body, knowing that this would be the last time. 
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says roughly. He doesn’t let you respond, lets the petty comments die down your throat when he kisses you. 
Oh, Jesus, Fucking Christ. 
Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. There was something so bittersweet about the way he kissed you, knowing it was going to be the last. He twirled his tongue with yours, so needy and so fucking promising. 
Eddie knew you better than the back of his hand, so when you started whimpering against his lips, your knees giving out, he knew you didn’t want to waste any time. 
He guided you toward the bed, gentle as he had never been before. The two of you were slow to undress each other, savoring every fucking moment. 
He let you lead everything, going only at your pace and making sure everything was up to your desires, purely catering to you. 
You could sense it, see the difference in how intimate this was, compared to others where it was just senselessly fucking, this was passionate, and it was killing the two of you. 
Rather than just pushing into it, he kept his gaze on you, admiring the way your chest rose up and down as his calloused hands slid further down your body, nipples hardening when his hands stopped to ghost over your thighs. 
His other hand rested on your breasts, and he didn’t hesitate to latch his tongue on it, sucking while his other fingers toyed with your entrance. 
You mewled; you weren’t going to hold back. “Moremoremore.” 
But he didn’t move an inch.
That greedy bastard. 
“More,” You pleaded louder this time, growing impatient. 
Eddie looked at you with such hunger in his eyes that it had your core throbbing. “I’m gonna give you every fucking thing you need, honey.” He promised. 
“But I need… this. I need this memory of you engraved into my brain, forever.” He groaned, giving all of his attention to every part of your body. 
You were quick to nod, quick to oblige him, especially when he made you feel this fucking good. 
But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Especially when he was everywhere, hands gliding all over your body, making you whimper with just his touch. 
And the way you looked at him was so fucking tempting that he was almost going to explode, you were pleading with your gaze, telling him to take you… fully. To make you his, one last fucking time. 
He could recognize the weight your gaze held, almost as if he understood your train of thought, he pressed his thumb further into your clit, circling around it as your core clenched on nothing. 
“Please,” You begged. 
“Such an impatient, baby,” He muttered into your skin, pushing past your folds as he earned a low groan from you.
“Missed those sweet noises,” He hummed, doing everything in his power to not pound into you right away, the way your cunt was gushing for him, the way you pleaded, Eddie was sure he’d burst if he had to wait more. 
With a tender touch, he tucked your hair back. “You have no clue how fuckin’ insane you make me.” He pressed a sloppy kiss, his hands were still working their way through your folds. 
“Each time I’m around you… it’s like I lose all my fuckin’ senses.” He slurred into your ear, his cock was straining his boxers, and you looked so fucking perfect beneath him, looking all fucked when he had barely touched. 
But you ignored it. Ignored every one of his words, you didn’t need his sappy shit; you didn’t need another reason to stay. 
You just needed to feel good. 
“Please, fuck, baby, please,” You whimpered softly, your nails digging harshly into his back, making his cock twitch more and more. 
Baby. 
He doesn’t even remember the last time you called him that, and it shouldn’t bring a stupid, childish grin to his face, but it does. 
He’s ready to put everything behind him, start over, and do whatever you say. 
But he’s sure you will never let him. 
“I need you, Eds.” You murmured, eyes gazing into his; a mixture of tenderness and longing overtaking your features, speaking to him without uttering a single word.
That was all it took for him to free his hard cock from his boxers, his pink-tip burning with desire as it faced you, beads of pre-cum dripping from it as you smeared it all over, giving it a few pumps before you placed it into your entrance. 
The low groans that escaped Eddie’s lips were so fucking loud, filling the room, and you loved it. You loved the strained sounds he made with one touch from you. 
He didn’t hesitate to push himself deep inside of you without a warning, the space now being filled with both of your contented groans. 
“Holy fuck,” He breathed, head tilted back as he grinned at the sight in front of him.
You with your mouth hung open, murmuring his name as you took his cock like the good fucking girl that you were.  
“Takin’ me so well, angel,” He praised, “Baby, so fuckin’ tight, mhmm.” He placed sloppy kisses between your jaw and the line of your neck, grunting as he pounded his cock in and out of you with a speed that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
You were lost in him now, lost in the pure passion and affection Eddie provided you. You never felt this fucking good; you never felt this fucking close to him, breathing heavily as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 
Everything was so fucking intense that you could barely breathe.  
“Look at how well your sweet cunt is takin’ me in.” Eddie moaned, watching the way his cock disappeared into you, nuzzling him with your warmth. 
“Fuckfuckfuck. S’fuckin’ warm, honey.” He muttered the deeper he pushed into you, and your walls were quick to clench around his throbbing cock.
You arched your back into him as you rocked your hips toward him.  
You wanted him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, his every moment was euphoric, and you needed him, more and more. 
He was making you greedy. 
God, you wanted to hate him so fucking bad. 
He groaned at your impatience, relished in the way you grunted your hips more into his cock, he chuckled smugly. “Greedy baby,” He muttered. 
You ignored his taunting while you begged for more. 
“Shut up,” You murmured, teasing him back.
And it was a huge mistake.
He cursed as he pulled out of you, and you whined at the emptiness, “Shit, shit, ‘m sorry” You whispered, but he ignored you, continuing his teasing while all you could do was thrash beneath him. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” You begged, causing him to smirk down at you. 
And even though your pleas were heavenly, Eddie was in no mood to stray away from you, he needed to be inside of you. 
He needed to feel your walls hugging his cock, he needed to be as close to you as he possibly could. 
“I would never say no to you, doll.” He mocked, rocking his hips into you with such force that the whimper that slipped past your lips was sinful. 
“All fuckin’ mine, yea?” He whimpered needily, and you nodded without hesitation, even though you both knew that wasn’t true. 
You shuddered underneath him; he was filling you to the brim, and you cherished every fucking second of it. 
“Eddie…” You barely let out a breath; the pleasure and sensation of each of his movements overwhelmed you. 
He cooed, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can barely speak, doll?” He asked mockingly. 
You nodded without hesitation, eyes squeezed shut. “I—Fuck…” Your head was dizzy, incoherent babbles were the only thing that escaped your lips, and Eddie knew, he knew you were close by the way your legs trembled. 
“Fuck… honey—I know.” He purred cockily, his hips pushing further into you with a glorious thrust. “I feel the same, baby.” He groaned when you clenched around him again.  
“My perfect girl.” He muttered as he continued his pace, his cock rocking into you further and faster—as if it were possible—earning low pleads from you in return.
“I never—I never thought being with someone could ever feel this way,” He whispered into your ear. 
Don’t let him get to you; don’t fucking let his words get to you.
But fuck—does everything with him feel so fucking good. 
“But, shit, you’re so different…” He muttered, his pace continuing as he grunted between his sentences. 
“You’re so fucking different.” You avoided his gaze, the emotion it held was too fucking much for you to handle.  
You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the way you felt the hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your emotions were a mess. 
It felt good, and he felt good; his words, his fucking cock inside of you, everything felt so fucking good. It was the temporary fix you needed. 
“Don’t do this to me, Munson.” You barely let out, he could feel your thighs trembling. 
“I…I never felt this way before… Jesus—Fuck.” The rocking motion of his hips became rougher each time he spoke; you were clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter, driving the both of you into insane heights of pleasure.
“I think I lo—” You snapped from your hazy state of pleasure; each of his words was like a stab at your fresh wound, the one he fucking created. 
“Don’t,” You warned him sternly, interrupting before he could get another vowel out.
"Don’t fucking finish that sentence. Don’t do that with me.”
“I know you. It's not working on me." You whispered.
“But—” He pleaded, and you interrupted again.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t ruin this.” The words were harsh as they left your lips.
“Don’t say things to make me doubt this, to make it harder for me to leave.” There was such a vulnerability in your voice that he couldn't help but want to protest. 
He wanted to tell you that it was all fucking true. That he was so fucking in love with you that he was sure he lost his mind. 
Yet, you don’t let him speak, you don’t let his words fool you, not again. 
You kiss him in a dizzyingly rough motion just to shut him up. 
His skin slaps against yours, rough, as if he’s trying to take his frustrations out, and you let him, you let him pound into you senselessly. You let his cock drive into you further, not stopping until he’s sure he’s stuffed you to the brim. 
“Eddie, fuck!” You mumble into his lips; your brows are drawn together, and he knows—he knows you are close. 
“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. “Cum for me, honey.” He encouraged, not stopping his pace as he roughly thrusted his cock inside of your throbbing cunt one last time. 
A gush of wetness pulsed out of you when you released around him, the strength of your orgasm was enough to choke you out, and white-hot flashes blurred your vision as he watched you in awe. 
He wasn’t far behind, as the strained moans that escaped your throat drove him closer to the edge. 
“Shitshit—s’fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted. The way your cunt convulsed around him was too much for him to handle. He slammed inside of you one last time.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—” He growled against your hair as he came, his cock shrivelled inside your cunt, pulsing as he coated your walls with his warm cum, fucking his release inside of you.
The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, bodies tangled to each other, both minds fuzzy as both of you tried to catch your breath. 
You could feel tears brimming your eyes again when the realization hit you. 
This was the last time. 
And you needed to leave. 
As soon as possible.
And that’s exactly what he’s afraid of, afraid of you leaving, forever. 
You are quick to shake your thoughts off, quickly getting up to get dressed. 
“Don’t,” He mutters, it’s barely audible. 
You turn to him with a quizzed look. “Please… Just, please don’t leave.” He begs, it’s the last sight you expect, and the last thing you expect to hear. 
And it should feel so fucking satisfying, to know he’s wrapped around your finger, to know he is practically pleading for you. But it doesn’t, it feels so fucking sentimental, and you hate it. 
“You knew.” You muttered, putting on the clothes you so carelessly discarded. 
“You wanted this to be the last time.” You whispered, not daring to look at him.
“I lied,” He was quick to reply. 
“Eddie…” You heaved a sigh.
“Please, just fucking listen to me for once.” He breathed; you’re sure you’ve never heard him this determined. 
“I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m the biggest coward in the whole fucking universe, okay?” You turn around to meet his gaze, it’s pitiful and heavy with guilt, and you wish you never cared about him.
You wish you could just throw your feelings away and leave him behind. 
“I don’t deserve you!” He exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes. 
“Stop… just stop with the bullshit of making me pity you—” You replied angrily.
But he doesn’t let you finish. 
“Look, Y/N. I want that with you, I want something real with you… Shit—more than anything.” 
You chuckled, baffled. “Too fucking late for that.” You replied coldly. 
“I—it doesn’t have to be!” He spoke, grasping at straws to get you to give him one more chance.
Just one more fucking chance.
“What good will it do?” You whispered.
“You know what I realized?” You asked, putting on your shirt as Eddie gazed at you with need. 
“We’re both so beyond fucked up that...” You squeezed your eyes shut.
“Us—” You pointed toward the two of you. “We would never work!” You spat.
“I’m the last fucking girl for a relationship, and you’re the last fucking guy for a relationship.” 
“That’s why it would be perfect!” He tried to reason, but you shook your head.
“No—no, it wouldn’t! We’d eat each other alive!” You exclaimed, but Eddie refused. 
“So?” He shrugged.
“So? We’d just fight all the time! You really want a relationship that hard?”
“When did you become so fucking afraid to take a risk? A little challenge?” You narrowed your eyes.
He read you like a fucking book. You knew you weren’t afraid of a challenge.
You were afraid of getting hurt.
You were afraid of being more attached to him than you already were.
You were afraid of him running out once you decided to fully commit.
You knew it wasn’t all him; you were messed up in your own fucking way. Avoiding everything that felt too real was your specialty, because you’d rather be aching now than in the near future when he broke your heart again.
If you didn’t leave now, you never could.
“Goodbye, Eddie.” You muttered, shutting out whatever he was saying as you closed the door. 
Eddie sat on the bed, alone with himself, and his mind that was spinning with thoughts and his own voice telling him that he fucked up. 
He chucked his jacket to the ground as he rubbed his hands along his face in frustration. 
He had truly done it this time, he had lost you.
Forever.
But did he have to? 
Did he need to be a fucking coward again? 
Why would he give up this fucking fast when he didn’t tell you how he even felt? 
Eddie got up in a hurry, sprinting toward the party like a man possessed, spinning around each girl he saw in the hopes that it might be you. 
“Have you seen, Y/N?” He asked, and the blonde girl pointed toward the porch. 
He muttered a quick ‘Thanks’ as he slipped through the bodies in his way as fast as he could, making his way onto the porch with anticipation, eyes glistening the second he spotted you. 
You were sat on the cold wooden floor with your face buried into your hands, quiet sniffling was all Eddie heard. And he felt it again—that familiar ache—the same ache he felt the past month, when he couldn’t see you, talk to you, or know how you were doing. It returned instantly when he heard your sobs. 
“Hey… hey…” He murmured, causing you to jump as you turned to him with swollen eyes and your mascara was quick to run down your cheeks. 
“You’re gonna get cold, honey. Let’s get you up, yea?” He had never been this fucking caring, nor did he ever pine after you this much; he always held back, no matter what storms brewed in his mind. 
He extended his arm for you to take, but you glared at him coldly. “What are you doing here, Eddie?” 
“I need to talk to you.” He said. 
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You muttered, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to—” Your rant was interrupted by his pleas.
“Please—just don’t say anything and just listen, please.” You sighed. 
“Please, Y/N.” 
“Fine.” You crossed your arms against your chest, your eyes still glistening with tears.
He inched closer to you. “These thirty fucking days I’ve spent away from you… It’s been torture, Y/N.” He shook his head. 
“You—you have no fucking idea the things I did... The things I’ve tried to forget about us... Forget you.” His voice almost cracked, distress overtaking his features. He was sincere, so fucking honest that it was starting to make you afraid.
You couldn’t decide if it was him or the chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. “And no matter what I did, I still found myself itching for you. A part of me that I couldn’t fucking kill craved for you… to see you, to call you.” 
You’d never seen him like this before.
Eddie was always guarded, all fun and teasing. Always turning serious shit into jokes.
And this was real. The only thing you wanted from him, the only thing you begged that he made a mockery of. The hypocrisy was appalling to you.
You opened your mouth, your brows had already furrowed, and he could tell you were going to curse him out, so he didn’t let you.
“I know… I’m a fucking hypocrite, I get it.” He whispered, and your eyes almost widened.
How the fuck did he read you that easily?
“And I’m so fucking sorry for everything I said.” He ran his hands through his curls, almost tugging them out for being an idiot.
“I was afraid, okay?” He heaved a sigh, hand ruffling through his messy hair.
You didn’t want to ask him what he was afraid of because you knew—because you were afraid of the same thing.
Your lips trembled with need; no words dared to come out of them. 
“I was so fucking scared because I did the first thing we promised not to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You knew how bad he was with his feelings; you couldn’t even believe that he had made it this far.
“I think—No, I know.” He shook his head.
“I really fell for you.” He was ripping open your chest now, holding your heart out. Telling you he felt the same. A gasping, quiet noise escaped your lips; this was all you wanted—needed.
You’ve been this close to Eddie countless times before; hell, he probably fucked you at a much closer distance countless times before, but this was intimate. 
“And I realized... I could lose everything in this fucked up world.” He took a deep breath, his face so close to yours that you could sense it. Sense every emotion radiating from his body—the vulnerability, the pain. 
Each beat of your heart was like a drumroll against your chest; everything you longed for was there, a breath away from you.
“But not you. Oh god, not you.” His brows knitted together in a painful expression, and his voice was barely audible as he looked at you with a gaze that held you as the center of his universe.
You wanted to kiss him; you wanted his soft lips to graze against yours; you wanted to sob into him, melt into him, and become complete with him. 
“W—what are you saying?” You asked, and you knew the answer, but you needed that confirmation, you needed those three words to leave his lips.
“I love you.” He said without hesitation, and you couldn’t help the childish grin that formed on your face, mirroring Eddie’s. 
“I—You do?” You stuttered.
“Yeah… I love you so fucking much that it’s embarrassing, really.” He chuckled, still not able to comprehend your expressions; you looked… frozen. 
“You, uh, you don’t have to say it back.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all of this was so fucking new to him. What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No, no, no... He couldn’t do that because you didn’t say it back. 
“I’m sorry, shit, uhm—I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” He stuttered. 
You gave him a warm smile. “I’d say you are doing well,” You whispered, scrunching your nose. 
“Yeah?” He returned the smile—that goddamn smile that brought out his dimples. 
God, you wanted to kiss him. 
“You’re making it so hard for me to leave.” You muttered, turning around to take a breath as you shook your head.
Eddie sighed, hands quick to find yours as he turned you to face him. “Then don’t leave. Stay.”
His past words didn’t matter, and how your relationship started didn’t matter. None of it mattered now because Eddie was ready, ready to give himself fully to you. And he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
It was now or never. You heaved a sigh of breath as you looked into his eyes; you couldn’t help yourself. How could you not utter those words back to him?
“Jesus…When I told Robin that I was ready to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you.”
You barely gave him any time to process your words as you smashed your lips with his.
It was as if passion was dripping from every move; it felt so fucking different to have this many emotions carrying your actions.
Before you could further it, taste him fully, Eddie pulled back slightly. You whined at the loss of contact. “Wait, wait, wait.” The words slipped past his lips quickly, eyes widening at your words.
“You—you? You are…?” He asked, baffled. He didn’t expect you to say it back.
He expected you to hate him forever. The thought of someone loving him was unfamiliar to him, especially to the extent that you did. Healing his fears without realizing it.
Your lips quirked into a smile. Why was he so idiotically cute?
You nodded, affirming him.
“Say it, please,” He pleaded, hands gentle as they cupped your cheeks. The look he gave you was mellow and your face tilted as you melted into his tender touch.
“I love you,” You muttered, eyes glinting with all the unspoken feelings you’ve been containing.
“Again.” A grin overtook his lips, and his widened eyes didn’t falter, shock and pure bliss apparent was written all over his face.
“Please,” He implored, brows softening each time you gave him that pretty smile.
“Soooo needy.” You narrowed your eyes jokingly.
“I love you,” You repeated, your gaze lingering on his honey-glazed eyes.
“Aren’t you a fucking dream?” You giggled, the dimples on his left cheek were pretty, he was so pretty.
“I love you more, honey.” He whispered, smashing his soft lips against yours.
And you invite him in to patch up the wounds he made, to give you the world, to love you fully; knowing that the blind faith transcended into something real, something worth worshiping.
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ilovechuuy4 · 4 months ago
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꧁Embarrassing things that happened in bed꧂
Chuuya Headcanons + Scenario
warnings; Minor descriptions of s3xual actions, ejaculation w/o penetration. Not rlly proof read.
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A/N: GUYS I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING A LOT IDK WHAT'S UP WITH ME I GOT NO MOTIVATION BUT I'M GOING TO TRY TO GET A REQUEST OUT ON THE 28TH DON'T THINK I FORGOT BOUT U GUYS
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Headcanons↘︎
• While making out, the first kiss would always make you burst out laughing so it takes the two of y'all at least 10 tries to actually start making out.
• Once you went down on Chuuya and he was feeling it TOO much and almost suffocated you(he apologized profusely after)
• He's definitely broke the bed while having sex with you(using his ability to reach deeper points) but it didn't stop him from continuing.
• Y'all have done it in his office and Kōyō had walked in on yall before scolding the two of y'all.
• Chuuya had gotten leg cramps once and you had offered to ride him the rest of the time.
• Blasting music in a private residence (like a hotel, say PM went on vacation) just to have sex with reader and yet the both of you were still audible.
• For getting to close the blinds/window and a neighbor hears/sees.
• Chuuya finishing whilst y'all are making out before penetration(After a long mission)
Scenario↘︎
Oh god, how long that mission was. You and Chuuya we're assigned a mission last minute and nobody was particularly "up for it" or in other words, you two were the only ones at work at the ripe time of 1 in the morning. It wasn't even a fun mission, it was one of this long dragged out mission. But at last, you and the ginger haired man finally arrived home at the time of 5am.
Once y'all enter the house, your thoughts began to roam of the images of Chuuya's body stiff clearly full arousal during the mission and you had to admit, it made you feel some sort of way. Chuuya glances over, slowly walking to you before embracing you from behind. The bulge in his pants was prominent against your body as he slowly suckled and nipped at your neck.
Soft whines and gasps escape your mouth, head thrown back against the others shoulder. "Mh-mhm~ Chuuya. The whimpers escaping your mouth and before you knew it, your back was pressed firmly against the closest wall. "Fuck, darlin'. I couldn't help myself. You just looked so damn pretty during the mission." This confession made your face blush a deep, wine red as you simply glance away slightly, god how you loved this man.
You felt the other cup your cheek and pull you in for a kiss which you greatfully accepted. Your hands gently cup his neck one thumb rubbing up and down his jaw line. You could practically feel the need radiating off of Chuuya as his tongue pushed passed your lips to explore the caverns of your mouth that he so desperately wanted to explore. You allowed it, yall's tongues danced in a harmony of passion and intimacy and before long, the ginger was getting touchy.
His hands found your rear, gripping it firmly as his tongue is plunged into your mouth tangled around your own. Your couldn't help but let you soft whimpers as you had to slowly pull away, panting. "Ha, sorry it was just, a lot." You murmur, taking deep breathes but when you look at your boyfriend his face is a bright red. You cock a slight eyebrow in curiosity.
"What's wrong?" You asked which made Chuuya look away, he seemed, embarrassed? "I- uhm." He stamppered over his own words, his hands gripping onto your waist as of now. "I'm nintey-nine percent sure I just you know. Came." Chuuya said before burying his face into your neck. You hadn't ever seen him in such an embarrassing state but you couldn't deny that it was kinda fun.
"You came? From making out with me?" You scoffed playfully glancing down and indeed, his pants were well, soaked to say the least. A red hue rose to your cheeks before speaking once more. "Maybe uh, maybe we should take this to the bedroom?" And once you suggested that the man in front of you lit up like a lightbulb, scooping you up in his arms with a chuckle. "I'd never deny such an offer, doll."
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kalims · 13 days ago
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⭒ㅤnot gonna lie !
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premise. pov prefect opens a ngl, except! the story they shared it from can only be viewed... by one person!
characters. first years
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ace
not gonna lie ! smash tbh
unironically pretends that he never sent one when you start bombarding him.
uniquewhere: i didn't even see ur story
shrimp: [attatchment]
uniquewhere: i have no wifi to see that sorry not sorry
vehement denial is actually the most effective defense according to him. even if it bypasses all forms of realism, it's not real if he doesn't believe it to be! <- real life advice from ace trappola guys.
if you haven’t already guessed, he can indeed see the picture you just sent and just assumes his very first form of defense… no amount of proof will remove him from his little ball of: “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
you gotta prepare some kind of miscrosoft presentation, and sit him down. though he will 100% do that thing where he plugs his ears in with his fingers pretending he doesn’t hear anything even though it doesn’t block out you reading out the words.
“here is the real, actual screenshot of my replies—”
“I NEVER EVEN SAW YOUR STORY.”
“ah, good! next slide after this is the views of the story!”
deuce
not gonna lie ! i like you
very demure, very straight to the point is deuce.
he would've written some long ass paragraph in all honesty but he just can't because he sees what he writes, deletes it, then cringes to himself.
atleast with that one he has the excuse for whichever scenario that might randomly ask about it.. (yes, he's thinking that far) weird flex but ok
1. "you ever confessed to your crush?" someone asking
2. "yeah sorta....." deuce
3. "???" someone confused
he was feeling reaaallyyy proud of himself. the anxiousness finally settles down, alongside with his rapidly beating heart. even if it isn't a real, confession it still brings him a bit of peace.
shrimp: I know what you did
tokyodefenders: WHAT?
there goes his heart rate.
like, you did not offer context to any of that but he's still gonna think you somehow, actually do know even if you didn't provide an explanation to... whatever it is you know about him!
tokyodefenders: whaTEVER IT IS IS NKT TRUE
shrimp: please, ur breaking my heart
shrimp: I like u too :(
heart? ascended
he's not even gonna question it. all his braincells got dumped out, and all he can focus on is that particular message. he isn't even gonna remember backtracking about the ngl cause he's gonna be like:
how did they hack my keyboard.. are they tracking it?! LOL
"I'm a mastermind,"
"HOW DID YOU KNOW?!?!" <- deuce, scared for his life.
jack
not gonna lie ! stop getting into trouble. I'm not always there to pull you out
is concerned with how many times you've managed to unknowingly walk into trouble, jack had been lucky enough (yes, him. not you, cause knowing you, you wouldn't be too phased) to be a near constant presence when the shenanigans during the tournament concluded, he stuck to you then.
as in reluctantly following around you like a tail. narrowing his eyes at the less than friendly faces often wore around you, that you were... well, amazingly oblivious to. or maybe you acted like you didn't know, the carriage didn't pick you up for nothing if you were here in nrc.
shrimp: do u rlly think I'm a troublemaker?
iheldheroncejacob: yes
the random topic being brought up went completely over his head. jack probably had forgotten he'd given the link to your story the time of your day, in all honesty
shrimp: well maybe I keep getting in trouble so u can rush in, and pull me out?
iheldheroncejacob: you're a terrible friend then
shrimp: :(
in retrospect jack is able to keep up with joking around, usually. but it's so hard to take you seriously that he takes whatever you say with a grain of salt, you're almost always tipping between flat sarcasm, or calm nonchalance between your words. it almost always has something to do with the people you're with.
the heartslabyul prefect for example, you take a kind, subtle undertone of teasing to (which is crazy, because you're scarily tame in the presence of the vice-dorm head.) and then you're all stony faced when you're with someone you don't like.
^ and you obviously don't dislike jack, if the little selfish, presumptuous nrc part of him would like to claim confidently so... would you really be joking?
only does jack realize the connection between your text, and the ask he sent when he's just finished his laps.
"I'm not your guard dog! why would you even get in trouble for that, next time I'm not even gonna spare you the time cause—"
"what a pee brain."
"what? don't compare my brain to a tiny pee—"
epel
not gonna lie ! CAN I PLS TRANSFER TO RAMSHACKLE AHHHH
you've never met anyone who's disliked being sorted into whatever the dark mirror fitted their 'soul' into as much as epel.
even without the private story only limited to his response, you're sure you could pick out his message and put a face to it.
epel, in his defense, still has savanaclaw as number one in his heart. though upon asking jack if it was possible to transfer there, the latter confirmed but it was... a tedious process, and suggested asking rook, who literally came from savanaclaw!
the boy only spared his friend a side glance before scurrying away. no use traipsing around that...
but of course, getting away from pomefiore is only a goal! always being near your proximity was a biiiiig bonus!
shrimp: hey I need ur files for the dorm transfer
catchwhathands: [escapeplan.jpg]
catchwhathands: I knew u wanted me in ur dorm!!
shrimp: actually I don't. ur the one that asked ;)
catchwhathands: who cares. I'm finally getting out of this hell YEAHHHH!!
shrimp: who said I was gonna use the files you sent?
okay, admittedly the moment he'd sent over the files, epel shut his phone, and quite literally did a victory lap around his room. making sure to frolic so vil has less chances of hearing his chaos...
the dorm leader woke up so easily from noises that you'd think rook was the reason he developed such a habit.
probably.
epel was already planning the plan! he could see the vision! maybe he could plant around ramshackle since it is a pretty big area. you guys would be together for the remainder of the year—and he'd finally bump the adeuce duo from their pedestal!
*ping*
"AGHHHHH STUPID FRIGGIN'—"
"epel!"
"sorry..."
sebek
not gonna lie ! since it is a request for unbridled honesty, I shall deliver what you've requested. you have done so without much thought, clearly! if you've given such leeway for... criticism! you, human, could use a lot more educating in terms of the glory of our eternal lord, the glorious malleus! in accordance to your previous, description of our relationship. the farthest I can give is acquaintance, but I shall only call you a companion (AKA friend) if you are atleast educated about my interests! as the good companion you desire to be!
woo, alright. he really wrote all that...
oh, uh oh.. you just got another ask from him, maybe even longer..?
shrimp: what would that make silver then
rizzvolt: my brother in arms!
shrimp: but hey, actually I do want to know
rizzvolt: ah! finally! I knew you atleast have some common decency, and sense. for that I shall agree for your request in our friendship! these are the most accurate ones pertaining the great lord malleus' biography! [link] [link] [link]
rizzvolt: is that enough? I will send you more, but only if you finish these three. I will test you rigorously to confirm that you are indeed genuine in your interest!
why he has all that, you have no idea.. if only he displayed that much dedication for his studies...
shrimp: I don't wanna learn about malleus
shrimp: I want to learn about you
rizzley: how dare you! the lord's name should only be addressed with a: 'lord', 'the great', 'the
...
sebek stares at his screen, just in the process of finishing his... educating sentence, because even in text, malleus should only be treated with the highest form of respect!
have you no integrity?! he wonders.
only then does he focus on your response, does he make a rather... dubious sound of shock? sebek doesn't know why he breaks into a cold sweat as he runs the sentence through his mind a hundred times in the span of a minute.
what is this... some sort of human illness? or maybe love—
of course he'd never even consider such a thing! (just did bro)
shrimp: sooo.. since you sent me an ask, does that mean you actually like me?
shrimp: sebeeeeekk.. did you actually read?
with the speed of lightning (and the adrenaline maybe, what else could this frantic pounding of his chest explain besides that you are indeed, dangerous!) he opens the story on your media
'send me an ask if you like meeee :)'
sebek promptly falls over.
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shohrrts · 4 months ago
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request: jealous yuji? pls I beg o̴̶̷̤ ᗜ o̴̶̷̤ anon i love you for this hope you enjoy!!
jealous!yuji x fem!reader
not proof read! a lil lighthearted bc i didn’t know how to finish it lol i don’t rlly like how i wrote this but we ball
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you had just finished training for the day, so you went to have a chat with yuta, inumaki and megumi as you usually do. you got along well with the second years and megumi since you had come to the school the year before under gojos supervision.
a small distance away was your pink haired boyfriend itadori yuji, who was currently staring daggers at your little group. yuji was feeling conflicted at the jealousy rippling through him because he knew you were close with the three boys but there was nothing more than friendship there, and he wasn’t usually the jealous type was he..?
after huffing and pouting for a few minutes he decided to walk over to you, putting his arm around your waist. you turned to him with a smile “ah itadori! maki senpai didn’t make you train too hard did she?” you said with a giggle. “hmm..? oh no she didn’t, m’ just hungry.” if yuji wasn’t pouting before he definitely was now “itadori? she never calls me itadori anymore.. did i do something wrong? or is she embarrassed being with me around her friends?”, as he was lost in thought he didn’t realise the others had left for the cafeteria. “-uji yuji~ helloo..?” “hm? oh sorry babe i didn’t realise i zoned out there” you quirked a eyebrow at him, maybe maki did train him too hard. “you sure you’re okay yuji?” you said giving him a kiss on the cheek “m’ just hungry, cmon let’s go before the foods gone” he said letting go of your waist and walking ahead.
now it was your turn to pout, what was up with him..? he was his usual bubbly self clinging onto you earlier and now he was barely saying a sentence to you. deciding to leave it til later you ran to catch up with the pink haired boy.
dinner was.. awkward to say the least. yuji sat at a table with megumi and nobara leaving no space for you, so you decided to sit with inumaki and yuta. you were lost in thought picking at your food when yutas voice brought you back to reality, “soo.. what’s going on between you and yuji?” inumaki nodded eagerly at what yuta said “I don’t even know the answer to that myself” you huffed out. “hmm. well i hope you guys sort it out.” “thanks yuta, me too..”
after a minute of silence you looked up to see yuji leaving the cafeteria. you immediately jump up and ran after him, catching his dorm door in your hand just as he was about to close it. “yuji seriously whats wrong? i can tell somethings bothering you” “it’s nothing i just want to sleep, training wiped me out” he sighed out. “yuji please stop lying to me, i don’t want to see you upset” you pouted at him.
“ugh fine but it’s kinda embarrassing..” he whined. “i’m sure it’s not as embarrassing as you think it is” you reassured him with a smile. “it’s just.. when i seen you laughing and chatting with the guys earlier i got kinda upset..” he huffed crossing his arms. “you.. got upset at me talking to megumi, yuta and inumaki..? i’m not following?” “i- uh- yeah.. i guess” he said scratching his nape. all of a sudden you burst out laughing gripping onto the door frame “i- what- are you laughing at me?!” “i- can’t- pff yuji are.. are you jealous??” “WHAT? N-NO IM NOT JEALOUS WHY WOULD I BE??”. you calmed down after another few seconds “yuji you’re definitely jealous..” you giggled at him. “hmph well so what if i am?” he said pouting turning his head away from you. “yuji” you said grabbing his cheeks “hmm.?” “as funny as i find you being jealous i can assure you there’s nothing to worry about between me and them three” you smiled pecking his lips. “okay.. i guess i was just feeling lonely” “if it helps you can come over and join in next time, it might even help you get closer with fushiguro”. he let out a hum in response, leaning down to hug you. “yeah i’d like that” “then it’s sorted!” you cheered jumping around like a kid before leaning up to peck his lips again, when you parted he tried chasing your lips and you let out a chuckle kissing him again. “now it’s settled can we take a nap m’ tired..” you sighed snuggling against his chest. “yes definitely” he picked you up and dropped both your bodies into his bed. moments after you both hit the pillow you guys were out cold, not even bothering to take your shoes or change out of your uniforms.
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a kinda long one but i enjoyed writing it!! hope i did your request justice anon ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀
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recklesssturniolo · 11 months ago
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could u write a matt imagine where how in the “OVER OR UNDER” video chris says “matt has a titanium rod” y/n is also there and she says “proof?” and later after they get done filming the video y/n stays at their house (she stays in nicks room) then later y/n gets a snap from matt asking what shes doing and she snaps back and says “nothing” (or that she’s watching tiktok i don’t rlly mind) and then matt sends a snap of his dick and says something like “here’s your proof” so then y/n is shocked and doesn’t say anything and matt says like “speechless now?” and then she says like “i’ll be down in a sec” and he says “that’s my good girl” and then she goes down to his room and they fuck (nick is asleep when matt snapped her and when she went to matt’s room btw) if u write this i will be so happy !! i love ur writing btw 💗💗
Proof? - M.S
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Based on this req ^ , soft!dom Matt
A/N: I’m not doing collages anymore bc finding photos for them drives me insane
NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor
“Matt has a titanium rod” Chris laughs.
Nick and I begin laughing as Matt just looks at Chris with a shocked expression.
“Proof Matt?” I ask, still laughing.
“Y/N” Nick yells smacking my arm.
“Hey you can’t blame a girl for being curious” I smile back, looking forward and my eyes meeting with Matt, his face displaying an unreadable expression.
Sighing as I flop down onto Nick’s bed, both of us already in pjs and getting under the blankets. A comfortable quiet takes over us as we both mindlessly scroll on our phones. Getting a notification, my eyes look and I notice it’s a Snapchat from Matt. Obviously him and I were good friends, however he rarely ever used the app. Opening his snap I furrow my eyebrows as I read ‘What are you doing?’. Usually once we all said goodnight and went to our rooms it was only Nick and I who’d continue talking.
I snapchat back ‘Nothing, why?’. Watching as it shows me he opened it but a snapchat not being sent back from him. Confused I click off the app and open TikTok and go back to scrolling. A few minutes passed and I got another snapchat from Matt, clicking on it my jaw drops and a gasp leaves my mouth. My head immediately turning to make sure Nick was asleep still. Returning my eyes back to my phone, re-reading ‘Here’s your proof’ with the photo being his dick. Being fully unaware of how I was supposed to respond to that, I leave him on ooened trying to come up with something.
I glance down and notice that he’s now typing in our chat.
Matt: Speechless are we?
Y/N: I’ll be down in a second
Matt: That’s my good girl
Sitting up and taking the blankets off of me while trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake Nick up, I remember under my shirt that I’m not wearing a bra, and the shorts I was wearing could barely even qualify as shorts. Beyond nervous but knowing I’d hate myself if I let this opportunity slide, I tiptoe out of Nick’s room and before I could figure out what I was going to say I was in front of Matt’s bedroom door.
“Is your plan to just stand outside my door all night?” Matt asks, my eyes widening as he opens his door.
“I - uh no sorry” I stutter as my nerves continue to grow.
Matt nods his head in the direction of his bed and I make my way to it and sit down. Unsure of what I was supposed to do next, still shocked at how forward Matt is being.
“Not covering much with that outfit eh?” He smirks.
“Guess not” I shrug.
Matt now was standing in between my legs, his hand moving to tilt my head up so I was looking up at him.
“So pretty” He mumbles, his thumb stroking my cheek. “I think you’d look prettier with my dick in your mouth though”
“Yeah?” I reply, heat rising to my cheeks.
He nods in response, “Only if you’re comfortable”
Going to get on my knees, he stops me and connects our lips, his tongue against mine before he pulls away.
Now on my knees, he slides his sweats and boxers down. His dick smacking against his stomach as he did. My pussy now dripping just from the sight. Spitting onto my hand I begin stroking him slowly, a quiet groan coming from him as I did.
“Mouth” He demands.
Following his instructions I swirl my tongue around his tip, before slowly taking as much of him as I could into my mouth.
“Fuck there you go” He groans, as he pulls on my hair.
I continue bobbing my head up and down, using my hand for what couldn’t fit into my mouth. Already gagging from how big he was.
“Take it all in your mouth, I know you can pretty girl” Matt says.
Slightly doubting I’d actually be able to, I pushed my head further down on his dick, a low groan leaving his mouth as I did, his hand pushing a bit on the back of my head.
“Fuck yeah, there you go just like that” He groans.
Tears fall from my eyes as I continue sucking him off. His dick hitting the back of my throat each time I went back down. Before I could process it, Matt had taken his dick out of my mouth and pulled me up and laid me down on the bed.
“As much as I would’ve loved to watch you swallow my come, I’d rather fill you up with it” He smirks, his hand trailing down to the bottom of my shorts, “Can I take them off?”
“Yes Matt just touch me please” I beg, my pussy aching for any form of touch from him.
I watch as he removes my shorts, smirking before looking up to me, “You’re soaked”
“Matt” I whine, my hips thrusting upwards, my patience running thin.
He plays with the band of my panties, pulling them away from my skin before letting them snap back, a yelp escaping from my mouth as he did. Looping his fingers underneath the band, in one swift motions he has then pulled off. His mouth immediately connecting to my core. A moan effortlessly falls from my mouth as licked a single stripe up to my clit, his tongue flattening to cover as much of my pussy as possible.
Matt continues his motions, humming against me and mumbling how sweet I taste.
“I need you” I whimper, my hands pulling on his hair, my back still arched from his actions.
“Yeah? Want me deep inside of you” He asks.
“Please Matt” I reply.
Lifting himself up and aligning himself up with my entrance, he begins pushing himself into me, a quiet whimper leaving my mouth as he did as my walls stretched.
“You can take all of it baby, just breathe” He replies, his grip tightening on my waist the further he went inside of me, “There ya go, good girl”
“Fuck” I moan, the slight pain disappearing and my body taken over by ecstasy.
“So fucking tight” Matt groans out, his head tilted back slightly, his jaw agape.
“Matt - fuck harder” I whimper.
“You sure pretty girl?” He questions.
“Yes god please” I beg, desperate to feel him deeper inside of me.
I feel his grip tighten on my waist before he picks up his pace, now slamming into me. My hands wrapped around his wrists and squeezing in an attempt to keep myself quiet. Matt removes one of his hands from my waist, bringing it so his thumb was now circling my clit.
“Take me so well” He says.
“Holy fuck don’t stop oh my god” I moan, him deep inside of me paired with his motions on my clit causing the knot in my stomach to grow tighter, “Matt I’m gonna come”
“Come on then, show me how much of a good girl you are and come all over my dick” He groans.
As my climax hits my eyes clench shut, my head tossed back as pleasure radiating through my body, Matt’s name effortlessly falling from my mouth.
“There you go, breathe through it yeah? Fuck you look so good” Matt says, his pace not slowing.
“I - holy fuck” I say, my pleasure still lingering as he slammed into me.
“You gonna let me fill you up pretty girl?” He asks.
I nod in response before he shakes his head and speaks again, “I need to hear you say it”
“Yes fuck fill me up please Matt” I whine out, my sensitivity growing the longer he continued.
I feel his dick twitch inside of me before his breathing becomes heavier, his jaw clenching and his head being thrown back.
“God you feel so good” He mumbles, struggling to speak through his high.
I watch as Matt slows his pace, him letting out small groan as he pulled himself out of me, before letting himself lay on top of me.
“That was -“ I begin.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” He says.
“What? Really?” I ask.
“Mhm” He mumbles, “Feels like I waited a life time”
“Should have made a move sooner” I say laughing slightly.
“Yeah yeah I know - wait fuck who’s that?” He says, his eyes widening as we both listen to the footsteps that continue to get closer to his room.
Without warning the door busts open, revealing Nick on the other side, him immediately covering his eyes.
“Jesus Christ the second I noticed you weren’t in my room I knew exactly where you were” He almost yelled, “God you guys are disgusting, Y/N you’re still my cuddle buddy so get your ass up and back to my room - wait clean yourself first I don’t want any of that shit in my bed”
TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @cupidsword @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @urmyslxt
801 notes · View notes
laelelinae · 4 months ago
Note
HI can i plsplspls request haikyuu characters & how they ask you to be their partner?? w kenma, suna, iwa, & atsumu?
how did they ask you out?
featuring: Kenma,Suna,Iwaizumi & Atsumu! High school and time skip version!!!
Warnings: not rlly proof read,I just wrote this right in the morning when I woke up 😭
HUHU I THOUGHT I CAN START OFF WITH THIS FIRST!! I WILL DO THE REST OF THE REQUEST SOONN!
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Kenma HS:
Lowkey I feel like Kenma would’ve told Kuroo,then Kuroo snitched on him because he felt like Kenma was a whimp and wouldn’t budge to ask you out.
Here’s how I imagine it💀
So, Kuroo came to classroom in the morning. Asked you can you go to the end of the hallway after school
You thought Kuroo was gonna ask you out GAHAHA
And then after school you went to the end of the hallway as Kuroo said, you spotted him with Kenma?!?
As you went there Kuroo was like “okay so you see ,this boy LIKESSS you. He will be a good boyfriend, trust” 😝
And..you just laughed at it,OF COURSE YOU ACCEPTED IT!
Kenma was redder than tomato that day..
———————-
Kenma TS:
I feel like he probably met you on some sort of collaboration in another country yk?
He got quite attached to you after that so when he went back to Japan,he started calling you often (he never got bored of you)
Then this little bitch boy never realized he had feelings ,literally. Honestly he was busy streaming all day but he kept thinking of you and mentioning you in the streams.
Soo..you and him just kept streaming together..till fans started shipping you two CRAZY
Probably told Hinata after that and Hinata was like “owh,you should confess” first time in Kenma life,he took an advice like that.
I feel like he would’ve confessed to you after a long stream with you.
So before you two ended the call,Kenma breathed heavily and looked at you in the camera 😭
“Y/n I like you”
HE GOT SO EMBARRASSED HE LEFT THE CALL LMFAOAO
The rest of the night you just had a long conversation with him about this, of course you accepted his confession :)
—————————
Suna HS:
Lowkey you were probably NOT a fan boy or girl ,he probably likes a bold and doesn’t mind to stand up for others and themselves type of person
You probably had a “enemies” to lovers with him LMFAO
You were in the same class as him,your actually a pretty good student, good grades ,top, blah blah whatever
He does kinda admired that.
You know how some boys would mess with you when they have a crush on you? THATS HIM!!
Soo he started just looking at you pretty often,instantly looking away when you noticed it.
And …out of the blue he started talking to you. And became your close friend? (Sneaky..)
Then he started messing with you like,stealing your pen(he does give it back later),putting your stuff high in the air till you can’t reach it,say some shit like “shortie” “nerd” honestly just teasing you know?
HE WHINED YOU TO GO TO HIS PRACTICE
Okay after a few months of THAT,on some random day. At the school rooftop ,you were eating lunch with him. He just said “Y/n I like you”
And you started dating him😝😝
———————
Suna TS:
I feel like he was getting a morning coffee at some local cafe that had great reviews.
And..you were the cashier there!😝
He prefers fresh coffee more since I feel like he doesn’t like bottled coffee ?
His eyes instantly landed on you 😭🙏
He was like “zamnn..that’s a pretty cashier..lemme 𝓇𝒾𝓏𝓏😍”
LMFAO IM SORRY I FEEL LIKE HES A BIT BRAIN ROTTED IN THESE MODERN DAYS YK?
So while he came up to you,ordered his drink. He non stopped looking at you.
Day after day..he just kept going to only see you.
And he did some stalking on social media and found your Instagram! And he texted you.
You swore you got a literal heart attack from that like,a literal pro volleyball player just texted you normie?
Then he just asked to like hangout with you since he said “oh I think your pretty cool” LMFAO
Then when you got closer to him,one day when you were about to close the cafe around night time (every other staff was gone)
This man appeared outta nowhere ,runs to you and looks at you panting.
“Y/n,I like you. Can I take you out?” BOLDDDD
And you did accepted it!
——————-
Iwaizumi HS:
Lowkey maybe you were Oikawa’s and Iwa’s close friend ,like everyone knew that in the school. You knew Oikawa and Iwa since you were kids ,I guess
Soo he probably had a crush on you in middle school but you were so focused on studies he never tried to budge to ask you out.
So when high school rolled around,your last year. And you three knew you were gonna separate your ways.
Soo on your literal graduation,he felt like it was the day to tell you
You know in Japan boys would confess to the girls they like and give the girl the boys uniform button that’s the most near their heart? HE DID THAT!!
You were honestly so touched by this,you literally hugged him and started crying and everyone near by you guys were like proud parents. ESPECIALLY OIKAWA.
Like you were crying,hugging him. Under the cherry blossom tree LMFAO.
———————-
Iwaizumi TS:
(This doesn’t connects with the high school confession one)
Okay so,he probably reunited with you by Oikawa since you were pretty busy with your career and you kinda cut off everyone after graduation?
You only kept in contacts with Oikawa since you knew him the most ykyk?
So after a game,you and Iwa started talking blah blah blah.
Over the months you guys got closer and closer again😝
And thennn one day after he finished training with the gang ,(you were watching them that day)
He asked you to stay behind and his so called gang was peeking through the literal door in the gymnasium LMFAO.
He sat down,you sat down and he spoke.
“Y/n..I liked you since high school..can I be your boyfriend?” HUHUHUHU
THE REST OF GANG OUTSIDE WAS TWEAKING ,LITERAL PRAYERS NOTHING WILL GO WRONG.
And you smiled at him,just saying a simple agreement (boy ,Iwa was literally blushing so badly)
THE REST OF THE GANG CHEERED SO LOUDLY ESPECIALLY FUCKING OIKAWA. YOU TWO LITERALLY HEARD THEM LMFAO
——————————
Atsumu HS:
You surely wasn’t his fan girl 😭 idk does bro even like his fans ngl.
He probably was your classmate,he kinda admired you like how Suna did.
He just kept looking at you often,giving you small silly waves and smiles like :D whenever you pass by him (he does this multiple times a day)
Of course it got kinda sus..well his teammates literally knew he probably had a crush on you,and his fan girls was not happy💀
And then..one day,you stayed after schools at the library to study. After that you just packed your bags and go
Atsumu literally skipped training for this 💀
He catches up to you,offering to walk you home. Well of course you accepted without hesitation.
It started off like this, he asked did you like anyone. And you said yes 😳
So he got all whiny like “tell meeeeee” but you refused,asking him does he like anyone and who.
He started making you guess who he liked by giving you details THAT PERFECTLY DESCRIBED YOU.
And you finally made the guess of saying “me?”
And he nodded!
“Okay,can I be your boyfriend now?”
——————
Atsumu TS:
I feel like you were probably helping around Osamu’s small restaurant?
And when Atsumu came for a small visit,eyes literally landed on you instantly.
He lowkey kinda backed up,since he thought you were his brother girlfriend😭
And after you left ,atsumu asked him questions about you and his osamu was like “no she’s not my girlfriend,she’s just helping around”
Atsumu literally flew out of the chair in happiness💀
Soo over the course of weeks,he started talking to you when he visits. He sometimes even brought you stuff.
Okay so one time ,Osamu had something to do. So you took his place to take care of the restaurant that day.
And atsumu knew 😭
When you were gonna close,atsumu came in and he was hiding something behind his hands
Soo he waited for you to finish the rest,after your doneee..
He sat you down..and just boldly spoke
“Can I be your boyfriend y/n,pretty please?”
And you did accept his confession ,BOY Osamu was PROUD!
———————
HUHUHUHU I HAD A FUN TIME WRITING THIS !! I WILL WRITE THE REST SOON!! TRUST!😝
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mysticficti0n · 10 months ago
Note
hiyaaa I love the Colby fic and I was wondering if you could do a short one of like y/n gong through a break up but she doesn't tell him or sam (and could Kat be in it- they're all roomates sorta thing) and she doesn't rlly come out her room and they get worried until Colby goes up and she breaks and he comforts her- like fluffy stuff plz
omg yes this sounds so cutie so ofcc!!! I don't know if its great as I'm very tired but I hope you guys enjoy, It feels good to be writing for someone new but I do still love Tokio Hotel !! I did a very quick proof read but if I missed anything sorry !!
Broken Heart
・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
warnings- ColbyBrockxFem/Reader, swearing, fluff, comfort, best friends, care, reader is cheated on
words- 1.7k
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Y/n's POV
"I don't understand why you're so angry Y/n?" Justin looked to me, my eyes narrowed "she was just a fri-"
"Shut the fuck up! you keep saying she was a friend but friends don't fuck each other" I screamed- it was killing me, my boyfriend of 6 years cheating on me with his 'friend', his friend who is his phone had hearts next to her name, every message had a 'xxx' at the end, winky faces and peaches shared until one day...today, I go to his apartment 5 minuets from mine to see him in bed, his hands laying on the red-heads hips
"I-it's just a miss understanding Y/n please!" he begged but I couldn't forgive him- not for this "look let me apologise and we can re-start"
"yeah after 6 whole years? good idea Justin let me just forget everything huh?" I yelled, his eyes dropped he knew I wasn't going to take it "just leave"
"no- Y/n I can make it up to you" he pleaded again and again, hands reaching for mine but I pulled away, backing from him
"get the fuck out of my house Justin" my voice was low "go through the fucking door and don't come back- get out" I watched him give me one more look and he left, leaving me with the haunting memories of him with someone else, those 6 years down the drain. The pain settled in quicker then expected, my chest heaved up and down as I sobbed into my pillow as I stared into the images of me and him dotted around my room, the light from the day slowly faded leaving me in darkness, only figures in my room kept me company, my face ached, my whole body did, especially my head so I decided to sleep, sleep would keep me safe, sleep was quiet, sleep was calm.
Kat's POV
Me, Sam and Colby walked into the house, it was silent, no music or tv playing which was unusual if Y/n and Justin were in "think they went out or something I mean its 9- might be like their date night?" Sam spoke putting his keys onto the kitchen island
"Maybe... I'll check up stairs" I smiled quickly leaving the two to find Y/n, I got to her door and pushed it open to see her room pitch black, not any of her candles lit, or lamp on "Y/n?" I whispered and a body shifted under the covers "Y/n, you okay?" I spoke coming in a little more to her room
"fine, just tired" she hummed turning over facing away from me in the doorway
"oh okay- where's Justin?" I asked, most days he's in the house, I mean he was meant to move in with us in a few weeks
"I dunno" she answered in a yawn, I oh'ed, the mood didn't feel right but I decided to leave her in peace, I closed the door and made my way into mine and Sam's room, he was sat on the bed flicking through his phone until he saw me walk in
"she okay?" he asked
"think so- said she is and she's tired" he nodded looking back to his phone "Justin isn't here though" his gaze flicked back up to which I just nodded
"he basically lives here, why wouldn't he be here? and its a Saturday night and ever since they got together he was here every weekend" I shrugged climbing in bed next to the blonde, resting my head on him
"who knows"
The night went by, and the three of us were up in the kitchen, the clock read '12:48pm' and Y/n was still In her room, still in silence, I told Colby what I had told Sam and he seemed just as confused, we decided to order some dinner, just something small and ordered Y/n some too, I was sure something had happened but... maybe I was thinking to much into it
"foods here" Sam spoke bring it in, Colby was half way up the stairs as he said he was going to go get his hoodie from his room "Colby grab Y/n" the other called getting a thumbs up by him
Colby's POV
I jumped up the rest of the stairs going to Y/n's room first, it was weird for her not to be up, she's always awake before me at least but the house was just missing her, I knocked twice before hearing a voice murmur a small 'come in' I pushed it open and saw her body curled in her coves, curtains pulled shut, and tissues thrown onto the floor "hey- you okay?" I asked coming over to the side of the bed where it was empty. Her eyes flickered open and looked up to me
"yeah- think I'm getting Ill" she hummed, sitting herself up, I looked to her face and saw her nose was red and eyes glossy "just a cold"
"hm yeah- we've got dinner down stairs, got you a burger and fries" I spoke as I watched her, she nodded pulling her sheets away and crawling out the side she walked past me and straight to the stairs, I followed forgetting my hoodie and just went to her side, I could see her clearly now, mascara around her eyes along with dark circles, her hair wet on one side, the usual dark lipstick she wore, smudged against her cheek
"hey Y/n" Kat smiled passing her a bag of food "feeling better?"
"no don't feel it- thanks for the food but I think I'll eat up stairs- don't wanna make you guys sick" she spoke, her voice sounding gravelly and tired
"Y/n we don't care, come sit on the couch with us- we can watch a film or something- we have yours and Justins favourite, Tita-" Sam went to continue until the girl beside me face dropped
"I don't wanna sit down here" was the last thing she snapped before hurrying away and her door slammed, I looked to the others who just stood stunned...
the week carried on, time passing by as it does and still no sight of Y/n, I was getting worried she's never like this, I sat alone down stairs as Kat and Sam had gone out somewhere and the only thing that went through my mind was her, I couldn't help the fact I was thinking of her, Y/n's never in her room if someones in the house or if she is in her room- someones with her
but why is she acting off- everything was so different, I couldn't help but be nosey, it was all in good intention of course, thats what I kept telling myself as I stood ear to the door of her room just listening; her voice mumbled incoherent words, small little cries leaving her every so often, my body relaxed a little to much and I ended up falling against the door "Colby?" her voice called 'fuck' I cursed to myself before pushing her door open again "were you fucking listening through my door?" her tone was angry, a cry halting in her throat
"Look I'm sorry but I'm worried about you" I said, I didn't want to keep it from her, I was worried, scared even "you didn't even eat your food" I spoke looking to the bag still sat scrunched on her desk "what happened?"
"I'm fine Colby okay? For days people keep fucking asking me if I'm okay and I fucking am" she ragged the sheet over her "just get the fuck out"
"Y/n you're not fucking fine- I've known you long enough to know this isn't how you act all the time" I didn't mean for my voice to raise at her but I was annoyed but not with her, she was going through something and didn't want to admit it "what happened" I said, my voice stern. The covers flipped from her body, her eyes welled with tears, face wet
"He fucking cheated on me- There better? you know now, my boyfriend of 6 years cheated on me because I'm not good enough for him and I can't think straight, I feel sick all the goddamn time and all I have every hour is 'you okay Y/n?' No I'm fucking not" her voice broke, the sobs that once heaved in her chest being released
"I'm sorry" I spoke, coming next to her bed, she looked up to me and her face snapped, pearls of tears slipping down her cheeks
"Why wasn't I good enough, Colbs?" she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow, her head buried in her hands. I couldn't bear to see her in such pain. Without thinking, my arms enveloped her fragile frame, pulling her close to my chest as I settled on the edge of her mattress.
"You're more than good enough, Y/n – I promise you that," I reassured her, my voice a soothing balm against the storm of emotions raging within her. Y/n's face found refuge in the curve of my neck, and I could feel the warmth of her tears seeping into my skin. It broke my heart to witness her suffering. "Did he do anything to hurt you?" I asked gently, my concern deepening as I held her tighter. She shook her head, her breath hitching between sobs.
"He... he just said she was a friend, but then I walked in on them having sex at his apartment," she confessed, the pain evident in every word. My fingers traced gentle patterns along her back, offering what little comfort I could. "I just don't understand why," she continued, her eyes red and swollen from the tears. I nodded, listening intently as she poured her heart out.
"He's just stupid, Y/n. You're nothing but perfect," I whispered, my hand tenderly cupping her jaw, guiding her to look into my eyes. "He's the one who's made the biggest mistake of his life by letting someone as amazing as you slip away."
She nodded, her tear-stained eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. In that moment, as I held her close, I vowed to be her pillar of support – a reminder that despite the pain, she was deserving of love and happiness. Together, we would navigate through the shadows, and I would do everything in my power to mend the shattered pieces of her heart.
"thanks Colby" Y/n smiled, hugging herself back into my chest
322 notes · View notes
reeniecon · 8 months ago
Text
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- IDIA SHROUD -
" Hey lend me your hoodie, so atleast I can feel like i have a bf."
Disclaimer : gn reader, angst(?) to fluff?? , not proof read!! U and idia are on relationship/dating for a quite long time.
----------------------------------------------------------
You Were lying on your bf bed on his room while idia watch his favorite Idol on his screen.
Gakkepuchi moirasu.
Gakemo for short.
U felt kinda jealous by three Idol members, seeing him jumped by exitement and happiness because of them make you felt burning from the inside.
God.
I really hate it.
You know idia will always choose you over anything but god it does felt ugly.
" Hey idia " You call him out.
Yeah, you're right as your expectation he didnt even respond a lil bit to u, maybe because of the headset that he is wearing rn. You cannot but sigh in this situation ur on now.
"IDIA" you called out again, with Louder voice this time, no answer.
" HEY IDIA, HEY" You tried again, but throwing one of his pillow to him this time.
" Oh, sorry sorry I cannot hear you... " He finally respond while lowering his headset into his neck and showing his usual concern face.
" Hey lend me your hoodie, so atleast I can feel like i have a bf."
"Eh? " He quickly removed his headset, stand from his seat and kneeled in front of the bed while gently touching your upper arms.
" What do you mean ' so atleast I can feel like I have a bf??? " He say with a concern face full of sweat
" Well idk, what do you think? And why don't you consult with your favorite gakemo Idol group? "
"...(name) " He slowly speak, while his body are practically inches away from you.
" Um... I'm sorry for ignoring you... If- if you want I can stop being ....gakemo fanboy! Yeah- uh... " He explains with a quavering voice he ends up hugging you when he say the last word.
' god this man' you say to urself
" Yeah yeah u don't have to go that far" U responded
" Just acknowledge me and play with me when I finnaly have the time to be with you" You explain
" Sorry... " He mumbles his head on your shoulder
"*sigh* dont you miss me? "
" I really do (name)... )
----------------------------------------------------------
An: I'm rlly sorry if this is ooc I felt like idia would have sassy and soft personality towards his partner, sassy in a daily conv and soft when he make a mistake/ fighting ect. Idk tht just my personal opinion
Sorry for the bad English, it's not my 1st language lol
177 notes · View notes
dannyricsmirrorball · 1 year ago
Text
fifth wheel • ln4 ੈ✩‧₊˚
ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing || lando norris x reader
ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au
ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || y/n is always fifth wheeling george, carmen, alex, and lily.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || this is not proof read and probably isn’t perfect but i hope you guys enjoy! part 2 out now 🤍
part 2 part 3
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liked by lilymhe, landonorris, and 120,374 others
yourusername miami 🌴🌴
username1 not y/n third wheeling lily and alex again 😭
lilymhe ur so hot. i love you.
⤷ yourusername UR so hot. i love YOU.
username2 my fave third wheel is back 😮‍💨
alex_albon acting as if u weren’t complaining the whole time we were there
⤷ yourusername IT WAS LIKE I WAS IN A SAUNA THE WHOLE TIME ALEX
landnorris bringin the heat
username3 queen is back on the paddock w her bffs! but alex and lily defs didn’t get any time alone
⤷ username4 at least carmen and george did
⤷ georgerussell63 we did not 😐
username4 y/n always pulls through w the content
georgerussell63 no feature? 🤨
⤷ yourusername get more clout w lily and alex lately 🤷‍♀️
⤷ carmenmmundt oh.
⤷ yourusername oh…
⤷ alex_albon rspct the hustle 💪 georgerussell63, carmenmmundt
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liked by heidiberger_, yourusername, and 79,678 others
carmenmmundt miami and my favourite people
yourusername I LOVE U
⤷ carmenmmundt well u almost didn’t make the cut so 😒
⤷ yourusername I SAID SORRY,, u love me 🥰
username5 carmen really said no me and george were not exempt from y/n’s activities
georgerussell63 🩵
username6 y/n joining every grid couple when she can is so funny but so cute
⤷ username7 especially lily&alex and carmen&george
⤷ username8 i love that she is now best friends with her best friends’ gfs 🫶
username9 i just know alex and george try to set her up w any of their mates so they’ll finally have alone time w their gfs
liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon, landonorris
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, and 547,194 others
landonorris ball is life 🏖️
mclaren 🐐 of helmet designs.
username10 his helmet designs are always such a slay
yourusername sick lid 🙌
⤷ landonorris thanks mate 🙏
⤷ username11 i love that she’s mates w the whole grid now
georgerussell63 baller
lnfour mega 🧡👏
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liked by williamsracing, mercedesamgf1, and 482,003 others
georgerussell63 Starting the weekend right. Have a good one! ✌️
tagged alex_albon, yourusername
username11 alex 100% convinced george to keep his shirt on
mercedesamgf1 on the grind georgie 🩶
yourusername never again.
⤷ alex_albon u say that every time, no one asked u to come 🤷‍♀️
⤷ lilymhe alex.
⤷ yourusername oh.
⤷ georgerussell63 ALEX HAVE U NOT LEARNED. HE’S KIDDING Y/N HE’S KIDDING!!!
username12 alex and his ✌️again
landonorris oh so that’s why u guys couldn’t come play padel 😐
⤷ georgerussell63 ah sorry mate 😬
⤷ yourusername u invited them to play padel?? oh.
⤷ landonorris OH MY GOD. to be fair i just assumed you’d tag along anyways 🫣
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liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, and 182,091 others
yourusername monaco i love u 🇲🇨
username13 our queen feeding us the goods
landonorris I MADE IT!
⤷ username14 idk if he’ll be this excited when y/n doesn’t leave him and his next gf alone
⤷ alex_albon 🤔
charles_leclerc awww thanks y/n/n that’s rlly sweet… but i do have a girlfriend 😧
⤷ yourusername yeah i want her. not u.
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux u can have me 🥰
⤷ charles_leclerc 😟😟
alex_albon why would u do this to me? 😐
⤷ lilymhe i think u look quite bonita babe
⤷ alex_albon yeah i’m sure u do 🙄
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liked by williamsracing, alex_albon, and 79,435 others
lilymhe golf vacay 🩷🩷
tagged alex_albon, yourusername
username15 omg y/n thirdwheeled alex and lily’s weekend retreat 😭they really can not get rid of her
yourusername mum&dad 😍😍
⤷ alex_albon stop it.
username16 is y/n any good at golfing lily?!
⤷ carlossainz55 as someone who has golfed w her. no. no she is not.
⤷ yourusername hey! i’m a grower!
username17 lily, her wag, and her wag’s best friend 👨‍👩‍👧
⤷ alex_albon y/n is not my best friend
⤷ yourusername YES I AM.
⤷ alex_albon who would u choose. me or lily?
⤷ yourusername i would sacrifice myself!
⤷ lilymhe it’s okay we all know the answer babe 😘
⤷ yourusername 😉
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liked by lnfour, riabish, and 192,760 others
landonorris golf.
username18 back in his natural habitat
mclaren ⛳️
maxfewtrell having fun?
⤷ landonorris yk it
 ⤷ maxfewtrell i’m sure you are mate 😉
username19 oh my god. that’s the same course lily, alex, and y/n had their golf vacay
⤷ username20 omgomgomg did y/n and lando third and fourth wheel lily and alex 😭😭
⤷ username21 they probably went on diff days
⤷ username20 shhhh don’t ruin the fun
yourusername golf.
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liked by francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt, and 89,342 others
yourusername golf!
tagged lilymhe, carmenmmundt, georgerussell63, alex_albon, landonorris
username22 LANDO WAS ON THE TRIP
landonorris idk if u can call what u were doing golf 🫣
⤷ yourusername oh!
username23 BYE lando and y/n didn’t just third wheel alex and lily but george and carmen as well 😭
⤷ username24 living for this friendship tho
⤷ username25 or maybe more 🫣🤭
⤷ username24 ugh not every girl and guy in the same vicinity are dating. they can be friends.
georgerussell63 let’s not pretend u didn’t just sit in the golf buggy and use lando’s camera
⤷ yourusername me and heat don’t go well together, you know that george!
carmenmmundt we’ll have to do it again sometime!
⤷ yourusername we do, soon!
⤷ lilymhe we do 🩷🩷
⤷ alex_albon idk why u guys are acting like she won’t be w us the entirety of next weekend and probably everyday after that
⤷ yourusername let’s be make it a girls trip 😒
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liked by masonmount, maxverstappen1, and 1,626,720 others
landonorris p2 and a 🏆 at my home race!!!!! ❤️ you guys are crazyyyyyy 💙
mclaren proud 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧
maxfewtrell absolute scenes, proud brother 🧡
username26 WOOHHHHHH
teamquadrant frame it 🖼️
yourusername mega drive champ!
⤷ landonorris 🧡
⤷ username27 the heart 🫣 defs dating
⤷ username28 oh yeah 4sure
⤷ username29 awww they’re so cute 🤭
georgerussell63 😮‍💨
oscarpiastri 👏👏
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liked by heidiberger_, alex_albon, and 134,098 others
yourusername ma boys rocked it in silverstone
tagged alex_albon, georgerussell63, landonorris, lilymhe, patrickh_coach, adam_norris_pure_electric
username30 her boys 😭
username31 does anyone else find it weird that she posts and talks abt them like she’s dating them 🤔
⤷ username32 she’s been best friends w alex and george since she was 13. she’s best friends w their girlfriends as well. ur making it weird.
⤷ username33 but lando 😏
landonorris thanku mate!
⤷ yourusername no problem, just being a good friend 😄
⤷ username34 they really squashing the rumours
maxverstappen1 no congrats for the winner??
⤷ landonorris soz mate cant have her affiliating w the enemy
⤷ yourusername yeah he’s right sorry champ, was purely going for the brits this weekend 😳
username35 LANDO’S DAD???
username36 so are her and lando a thing or??
⤷ username37 nah i don’t think so
part 2
2K notes · View notes
taintedcigs · 1 year ago
Text
GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader
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CHAPTER ONE: BEST OF TIMES, THE WORST OF CRIMES
next chapter →
✦ summary: in which you return to hawkins to attend your best friend nancy's wedding, facing the problems you left behind, and the one person you abandoned; eddie munson. (wc: 9.4k+)
✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, pining and slowburn, reuniting <33, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic relationship, reader is sad and feels guilty. kinda mean eddie but not rlly.
✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader
✦ authors note — okay so its finally HERE. im SOOO EXCITED for u guys to read it!! i have tried to proof-read this a lot but my mind is fuzzy so ignore all mistakes!! if u need some stuff to listen to while reading this long ass chapter or the songs mentioned in it u can check out the playlist !! hope yall enjoy it mwah &lt;3
series masterlist | series playlist
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I'm a cold heartbreaker Fit to burn and I'll rip your heart in two
The sound coming from your slightly jammed stereo while the rain gently pattered on the roof of your car could’ve been heavenly. 
If only it weren’t the roads of Hawkins that you were travelling in. Five years that had passed were seemingly nothing when you recognized the familiar streets and the infamous forest, heart skipping a beat when you finally arrived on Maple Street. 
The cars parked just outside of the Wheeler House were enough to give you anxiety, especially when your eyes spotted that van. His van. Why did he still have it? Wasn’t he a rich rock star by now? There was an unnecessary bitter taste in your throat, and your gaze was stuck on the van now, gulping physically as you tried to ignore those guilty feelings bubbling up inside of you. Mind quick to revel in all those memories you had with him in that stupid vehicle.
5 YEARS AGO.
“Hurry!” You whisper-yelled, still looking around, Eddie was right behind you, his tongue darting out of his mouth as it always did when he was focused, running like hell as his calloused hands harshly gripped the tequila bottle that you two had just stolen.
The angry voice of the shop’s owner had long disappeared by now, but you could never be too careful. When you finally got close to his van, you stopped Eddie immediately. “Behind you!” You yelled in a fake-worried voice, causing Eddie to start sprinting forward toward the car.
When he noticed you not following and breaking into laughter, his worried face eased as he realized your little prank, giving you a humorless laugh as he started sprinting towards you.
You squealed when he grabbed you by your waist, lifting you off in one swift motion, spinning you around as your giggles filled the space.
Eddie’s grin faltered quickly. “I hate you,” He mocked in a serious tone.
 “I’m sorry, but I just love that worried look on your face. And, oh god, that sprint! You know what you should be?” You asked, a smirk forming on your lips as you waited for him to fall into your trap.
Eddie sighed exhaustedly, a grin plastered on his face, he put you down.
You squealed happily as he did so, “A... Tiger!” You mimicked pompoms with your hands as you tried to re-do your cheer routine, chanting after Eddie.
He playfully nudged your shoulders, “Oh, Pinky... You are on a roll today, huh?” He asked, the nickname rolled off his tongue so sweetly. It was a stupid fucking name, sure, but you loved it. It somehow stuck, the entire town calling you Pinky ever since you pronounced ‘Pinky Promise’ wrong once and your parents funnily referred to you by it.
You nodded, giggling, stealing the bottle from his hands, and chugging a sip. “This was a great idea.” You hummed, pointing to the bottle, the bitter taste burning your throat, almost coughing with how big of a chug you took.
He quirked his brows, flying over to your side as he opened your car door.
“Let’s go, thief.” He tilted his head, hands gesturing forward animatedly.
“What a gentleman!” You mocked dramatically, sliding into the messy van easily as Eddie heaved a sigh.
He sprinted toward the other door, cursing as he struggled to open the rusty door, eyes bulging out of his head almost as he checked to make sure the coast was clear. “You know…” He started with a muffled sigh as he hopped into the driver’s seat. 
“Everyone thought I would be a bad influence on you… or that you would at least be a good influence on me, but ever since I met you, all we have done is illegal shit.” His voice was mocking. “I think it’s time you give up that good girl cheerleader title, princess. Because forcing your best friend to steal booze is definitely not good girl material.” 
Throwing your hands up in defense, you turned to him. “And they still think you are the devil worshipper!” You added, a hearty laugh escaping from your slurry lips.
Eddie sighed when he couldn’t turn the ignition properly, his van—Aurora, which Eddie of course named himself—was too old now.
“Oh, come on, baby,” He whispered when his fingers roughly tried to turn the key further, earning a hesitant cough from his precious Aurora. “Pleasepleaseplease…” He whispered, engine roaring back to life now with his second try. “There you go, honey, thank you!” He exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air, mouth quick to press up against the wheel, giving Aurora a thousand kisses, causing you to squint your eyes.
“You are… pathetic,” You scoffed with a shake of your head, a teasing smirk playing at your lips.
“Oh, we’ll see who’s pathetic,” He disagreed dramatically. His eyes diverted from the road as he sneakily grabbed your bag, causing you to protest quickly. “Hey!” He didn’t mind your tug on his bicep when he dug his whole arm into your bag, fiddling as he tried to find your cassette tape under all the mess.
“There we go,” He hummed when he animatedly pulled it toward your sight. ‘BEST MIXTAPE’ The tape dramatically read when Eddie snatched it out of your view stuffing it away from you. 
“If you make fun of Aurora, you lose your music privileges.” He hummed all-knowingly, a troublesome look overtaking his features as he focused back on the road. Your gaze squinted, barely able to see his plump lips that were now quipped into a grin.
“Really…” You hummed, hiding behind the way your lips twitched mischievously.
Eddie’s curiosity was quick to perk up; you not whining ‘Eds!!’ as you elbowed him and huffed when you called him a jerk meant only one thing.
You had some really good new music.
“You sure about that… Munson?” You quirked a brow, grin growing wider as you seized your bag from his hands, earning a groan from Eddie.
“What have you got up your sleeve, sweetheart?” He asked, stealing a quick glance at one of your pretty smiles before he turned his attention to the road.
“Something really good…” You hummed, hand diving into your bag again before you reclined in your seat, throwing him a knowing look.
“Jesus…” He whined. “What d’ya want?” He implored, his gaze squinting.
You wanted to keep the game going, tease him further, and get him to his breaking point. But the way his eye twitched with curiosity, tongue licking his lips with need made you want to tell him everything, let him in on your little surprise.
“Hmm… Music privileges…” 
“And?” He asked with a huff, knowing that’s not all you wanted.
“And, I’m gonna pick the place where we drink this cutie!” You exclaimed, hand pointing toward the tequila bottle you had a firm grip on.
He threw you a glare; it wasn’t a hard glare, you knew it and he knew it, he did it just to tease you, and that’s exactly what had you so giddy about him. “Fine…” He whined, teasing further. “Whatcha got?”
You clapped animatedly, pulling out the cassette with a huge grin. The Cure’s ‘The Head on The Door’ album was swaying in your hands as Eddie groaned.
You pouted. “You got me all excited for The Cure?” He pinched his brows together, causing you to gasp dramatically, huffing.
“What’s wrong with The Cure? You love them!” You protested, glaring at him.
“You love The Cure, sweetheart.” He grinned, earning a scoff from you as your hands were quick to wrap around your chest annoyedly.
“Just for that, you won’t get to know what the second album is. And it really was a good one.” You shrugged, putting the bag in front of your legs, just out of Eddie’s reach.
“Oh, come on!” He sighed, eyeing you with squinted eyes. 
“I was joking! I love The Cure.” He murmured, but you shrugged again, eyes falling toward the window as you started giving him the silent treatment playfully.
“Really?” He understood your play. “Jesus H. Christ.” He huffed, attention turning toward you.
“Just check the glove compartment.” You ignored him again.
“Pinky.” He called out. “Do it.” His eyes pointed toward it, causing you to sigh as you opened it unenthusiastically.
A bunch of cassette tapes fell toward your lap, you squealed at the contact. “Eddie!” You exclaimed with a chuckle.
Three Imaginary Boys, Seventeen Seconds, Faith, Pornography and The Top was sprawled across your lap, and your eyes widened.
The Cure’s discography. Just sitting in his glove compartment.
You turned to him with an affectionate gaze, hands covering your mouth as you stood speechless.
“Wh-what are these?” You were a stuttering mess. Did he really do all of this for you?
“Uh–I’m pretty sure those are albums, princess,” He mocked you in a playful tone as you tilted your head, tongue sticking out in a childish manner.
His smile grew wider before he shook his head. “Started collecting those–uh… after that day–uhh, you remember that?” His gaze avoided yours. 
“We–uh almost got kicked out of The Hideout?” He muttered with a sly grin, eyes focused on the road just so you wouldn’t notice the slight flush on his cheeks.
“Eds–” You attempted to speak, but he didn’t let you. “You remember that day? You asked me what my favorite band was?” You nodded furiously, Eddie didn’t even have to take another glance at you to know you had a warm smile on your face, sensing your head bobbing up and down excitedly. 
“Y-you know, before they tried to kick us out?” You gave him a slight giggle, humming.
“I told you mine was Dio. And you told me yours was The Cure?” A dizzying grin was stuck on your face, cheeks stretching with pain from how big it was. And Eddie knew if he looked, even for a split second, he’d fall for you all over again. He knew that he couldn’t contain those feelings inside of him anymore. So he avoided it. He avoided that one glance thrown your way because he didn’t want to lose you.
You bowed your head to say ‘yes’ again, words didn’t dare come out of your grinning lips. You didn’t know what to do; you wanted to hug him, feel his arms wrapped around you. You wanted to kiss his flushed cheeks and his apparent dimple, which you couldn’t get enough of.
The silence hanging in the air was killing you. “I remember.” You muttered, almost shyly, like the two of you weren’t teasing the hell out of each other mere seconds ago. 
His brows furrowed when you leaned over your seat again, digging something from your bag as you hid it behind you.
“That is why…” You smiled, hands shaking as you hid the cassette behind your back. “I got you this!” You exclaimed, swinging the tape in front of his bulging eyes.
His eyes squinted before the realisation set in. You remembered that day. Just like he did. You remembered his favorite band. Just like he did yours.
He didn’t want to get his hopes up, you were just being friendly, right? You didn’t do this in the same loving, caring way he did. You did this as a friend. You were a great friend. And he was an asshole for harboring these feelings for his best friend.
He couldn’t help the squeak that escaped his plump lips. The car came to a halt quicker than he intended it to. Swinging you over your seat, making you squeal with him.
“Jesus, Eddie!” You giggled, turning to face him and seeing his speechless face as he admired you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, and it was embarrassing.
Why did he have to look at you like that?
Why did he have to complicate things for you?
You wouldn’t be good enough for him.
And there was Billy. Billy. Billy. Billy—
Your inner thoughts were interrupted by his childlike screams as he seized the Sacred Heart album by Dio from your hands.
He didn’t hesitate—like you did—to engulf you in a hug. Hands securely resting on your lower back, and you could feel your breath hitch.
You would spend all of your work pay checks on stupid damn records if it meant you could see him like this again, and you’d happily starve if it meant you’d have him hug you like this again. But that’s what friends did, right? 
“Oh my god.” His eyes widened, tone much calmer before his excitement rose up again. 
“Oh my fucking god, Pinky!” He yelled in delight again, taking you by surprise when his hands were holding your shoulder in excitement. 
“Y-you… shit- you got this for me?” He asked with a sympathetic gaze.
You nodded quickly. “Of course!” 
“Why’d you think we had to steal that bottle?” You winked teasingly, causing him to snort.
“Pinky, you’re the fucking best.” He muttered into your hair, a grin overtaking your features when he held your face in his hands, honey-glazed eyes boring into yours.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.” His fast-paced mantra left you giggling again before he pressed a small, appreciative smooch on your forehead.
He was just being friendly, you thought. There was no way he could want something more. You were beyond fucked up for that, and Billy was the only proof you needed.
He sighed contently when he relaxed back into his seat. “Wherever you want to go, princess, let me know.” He winked with a childish smile.
The two cassettes were replayed over and over again before the two of you made your way to your ‘special destination’.
Dragging Eddie through the woods while he whined earned several giggles from you. He chugged the bottle in his hands with a sour face.
“How much longer do we have to fuckin’ walk?” He complained, his feet dragging on to exaggerate.  
“We’re almost there, you dork.” You squinted your eyes at another frustrated groan escaped his lips. Laughter erupting from your stomach teasingly before you handed him the stolen bottle, Eddie chugged quickly, and his face soured, “How did you even find this place anyway?” He asked.
“Skull Rock?” You asked, and he nodded. “Wait, you don’t know about Skull Rock?” You questioned, eyes widening, causing Eddie to roll his. “C'mon, Pinky, not all of us hang out with the prissy popular kids.”
You gasped and playfully but still harshly hit his chest, “Ow!” He flinched. “Shit, are all cheerleaders as heavy-handed as you?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Hey, I barely touched you!” You smirked while he faked getting hurt, rubbing his chest mockingly.
“Skull Rock is known as the make-out spot of Hawkins.” You enunciated dramatically as Eddie ooh-ed, “Thanks to, ‘King Steve’”, you mocked, mimicking air quotes.
Eddie’s eyes widened. “Wait… wait,” His walking came to a halt when he tried to process that information. “Y-you and Steve?” He asked, dumbfounded, a slight overtone of jealousy was apparent in his tone, mixed with his own insecurities, and your face was quick to sour. “God, no!” You scrunched your nose; you loved Steve, but not in that way, never in that way.
“Who do you think taught him this place?” You tilted your brows. 
“I came here the first time my parents left with a tiny note stuck on the fridge.” You shrugged. You were used to your parents always leaving you without any notice other than a scribbled note that told you that they’d be gone for a while. And you never knew if it would be for days or for months. Now that they've been gone for the last four months, you assumed it was permanent this time, and even though you never admitted to it, it fucking hurt. Coming here has been your only escape lately. And all you wanted to do was share it with Eddie, have him in your comfort zone. 
Eddie’s face soured; you could see that red tint on his cheeks, almost like he was furious. And he was, because he understood. He understood what it was like to have deadbeat parents who were fucking useless, he understood the pain it brought and how it could make a person feel so fucking unwanted. But at least he had Wayne. You didn’t have anyone. The closest thing to you had that resembled a family were your friends and the Wheelers—and even that wasn’t enough to give him some peace of mind. 
“When Steve had his first heartbreak, I brought him here, but that fucker turned this place into an orgy party,” You continued, a simple chuckle escaping your lips. 
“And after that, people started coming here all the time for their little make-out sesh.” Your hands stretched forward to make a point, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Even Billy took me here one time,” You murmured the Billy part, wanting to avoid the talk with Eddie because you knew neither of them liked each other, and you rarely, if ever, spoke about him with Eddie, while Billy always announced his distaste for Eddie, murmuring about how it was obvious that the “freak” just wanted to get in your pants.
“You know, Billy is one of those people who think I’m a bad influence on you because I’m a “freak” and “devil worshipper,” right, sweetheart?” You avoided his gaze.
You didn’t want to talk about Billy, at least not with Eddie, and not now. You just wanted one thing to yourself without him being involved, which seemed impossible.
You forced a smile. “Well, Billy is…” an asshole, an idiot, and sometimes a fucking narcissist, you wished to say, but you didn’t want to drag Eddie into your relationship problems. Billy was still your boyfriend, and in all honesty, your on and off relationship was something that no one actually understood.
Nancy gave Billy a glare each time he came around, Steve and Robin constantly reminded you how awful he was. But it didn’t matter, because you couldn’t let him go, each time he fucked you up in a different way, you went back to him.
You took him back because you didn’t know any better, you accepted him because love was supposed to be like this, wasn’t it? It was supposed to be a challenge, it was supposed to be fucking hard. It was supposed to be something to fight for.
But it was so…exhausting. Trying to get him to understand you, trying to get him to care, trying not to make him mad—walking on egg-shells each time you were around him.
And everything was so fucking different with Eddie; things were so uncomplicated with him and so fucking fun. You didn’t want to admit that you wanted that… that you wanted him. 
Because he was easy—and in the best possible way. He was so easy to love. He was safe and he made you feel safe. When he caressed your back, when he opened a door for you, when he let you walk in front of him with his hand ghosting over your lower back, when you asked him to hold your bag and he swung it over his shoulder. He laughed at things easily, he made you laugh easily. He listened intently, when you just wanted to open up for a bit, he was quiet; when you needed someone to talk to, he gave you all the advice in the world.
And more than anything, Eddie cared. He cared about you, in a way you had never been cared for before.
He brought a side out of you that you never knew existed; relaxed. He was gentle with you, he knew how to joke around, and he didn’t have any problems being who he was. He was open and nice; he didn’t get angry at everything, and it was just… nice to be around him.
You shook your head at your thoughts, “Billy is Billy.” You concluded, eyes fixed on the ground. Eddie just gave you a small smile, as if he understood your train of thought. His hands caressed your back reassuringly in a way that was telling you that it was okay to think what you were thinking, and it brought an imminent smile to your face, knowing that he would always be there for you.
You remembered that night clearly when the two of you drank an entire bottle of booze you stole, and smoked Eddie’s stash, bodies lazily laying next to each other, Skull Rock had the best view, stars filled the empty sky, and a crescent moon appeared between them.
It was relaxing, lying with Eddie, high out of your mind.
“There’s no way you think Honeycomb Cereal is the best breakfast food.” You shook your head as Eddie scoffed.
“I do! It counts as breakfast, and you can also eat it as a snack on its own, what more do you need?” He raised his brows, taking a puff from the joint sitting between his index fingers.
“Uh? I don’t know, waffles? Eggs and bacon? Actual good cereal?” You mocked, causing Eddie to nudge your side lightly.
“Oh, and which cereal does the princess think is the best?”
“Cinnamon Toast Crunch, of course,” You said proudly.
“You are disgusting.” Eddie scrunched his face. You shrugged with a grin on your face as you snatched the joint from his fingers, reaching for the lighter in his hand. And before you could even light the blunt sitting in your fingers, the carved lighter caught your attention.
It was a silver Zippo lighter with a dragon print and had scratches all over it. You scrunched your brows as you looked up at Eddie and said, “What the hell is this?” You held the lighter up, and Eddie seized it from your hands.
“A lighter?” He replied smugly, causing you to huff, “Where did you even get it?” Your curiosity peaked.
“Bummed it off a guy at the bar last night, pretty fuckin’ cool, huh?” He asked, getting excited as he showed you the print, the carving of the dragon was so detailed that you could basically count its scales.
“Stealing is considered cool?” You murmured, causing Eddie to give you a huff as he placed the lighter on the rock between the two of you, allowing you to get a more detailed look. 
“Really, Pinky?” He almost snorted. “How about you answer that one, because the tequila bottle you’re holding wasn’t paid for... If I remember correctly,” He mocked a thinking face, dimples ever-so apparent as he tried to contain his grin.
“I–We!” You expressed in a higher tone, “Didn’t steal that bottle because it was cool, doofus. We! did it because we’re poor.” You enunciated the ‘us’ part again before nudging his rib slightly and prodding, earning a “Hey!” from Eddie, who was ticklish. 
“Anyway.” You giggled, handing the lighter back to him with a grin on your face, “Would’ve been cooler if it was pink.” Eddie gave you a weird look.
“What?” You implored, shrugging carelessly.
“Pinky liking pink… what a surprise, huh?” He said sarcastically, causing you to groan.
“Don’t be such a guy, Munson,” You warned, you liked pink, but both of you knew that wasn’t why the nickname stuck. And it didn’t matter what it truly meant because you liked it. You liked that it was the only thing you had from them that didn’t leave—something that was truly yours, something that would never abandon you. 
“Oh, you know that’s not why, you doofus.” You rolled your eyes. “Have you ever seen a pink dragon?” You gushed, and Eddie shook his head. 
“See! Case closed.” You grinned.
“Pink dragons are cool,” You said with a determined face, and Eddie couldn’t help the grin that was plastered onto his face now.
You spent the rest of the night giggling like a bunch of kids over nothing, the chilling breeze of the Hawkins nights providing comfort to you that you had never felt before.
When your shivers hadn’t stopped, you heard Eddie sighing, “Okay, you are getting my jacket,” He insisted, annoyed, because you had refused his offer for a jacket a million times just because you didn’t want him to be cold.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head before you could open your mouth to refuse. Calloused hands quick to securely wrap his infamous black leather jacket around you. You looked up at him, a sympathetic gaze apparent, as you tried to refuse, tried to insist that he would get cold, but he didn’t accept it. “Better I freeze off than you.”
Your heart fluttered before it was apparent on your face, lips twitching into a warm, sickly sweet smile as you accepted, “Thank you,” You murmured, almost shyly. The jacket fell comfortably on your shoulders, a whiff of weed, beer and the old leather smell engulfed you, warmth taking over your entire body.
You liked the feeling of wearing something that was his. In fact, you liked it too much. Something about Eddie always provided some sort of security for you. He made you feel comfortable in your skin, like he was meant to be there for you, like he was supposed to help you, even when you repeatedly told him you didn’t need it. You cleared your throat to gather your thoughts, taking the joint in his hands as your head slowly but comfortably fell on his shoulders.
Taking a puff from it, you looked over at Eddie. “As soon as I graduate, I’m leaving this place.” You could feel his head turn toward you, his gaze almost burning its way through your hair. 
“Eight months, eight fucking months left.” Your tone was the most serious he had heard that night, and he couldn’t help but have a baffling look on his face. You had mentioned something about ‘leaving this hellhole’ before, but he never knew how serious you were, at least until now.
He shook his head quickly to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and scare you away, so he shrugged. “Fine, but you can’t abandon me, I’m coming with you.” His tone was nonchalant, and it brought a smile to your face.
“I would never leave without you.”
NOW.
You shook your head at the memories, at least you had achieved one of those things. You got out of the hellhole that was Hawkins as soon as you graduated, being selfish enough to not care about the ones you had left behind, but you needed to do whatever you could to survive, and you shouldn’t have to apologize for it, right?
Right?
It’s what you kept repeating to yourself, but there was one part of you that always felt guilty for leaving without a goodbye, cutting off all contact. And that guilt returned with Nancy’s invitation; you knew you couldn’t hold off on her wedding, no matter how much you wanted to escape the town that caused you agony.
Nancy was your best friend when you were living in Hawkins, she was there with you through everything, and the Wheelers were there when your parents abandoned you, inviting you to their home as if it were nothing. 
You've seen Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin several times in the last couple of years. Especially after Nancy told them the exact reason why you left, they understood and welcomed you. 
That’s what you loved about them; even though you spent some time apart, they would always be your best friend. And that is exactly why Nancy picked you as her maid of honor—because she knew you’d always be there. She trusted you with her whole life, and so did you. The two of you knew things about each other that no one else did. 
And I'll leave you lyin' on the bed I'll be out the door before you wake
You huffed when you turned the stereo off, the lyrics giving you a stupid familiar  feeling, like it was written about you and Eddie. Like Axl and Izzy were hiding somewhere in the California apartment you and Eddie stayed in right after you left, as if they witnessed you leaving him there. 
The song became an afterthought when you realized you actually had to go in now or one of Wheeler’s snobby neighbors would surely call the cops on you for suspiciously watching the house while hiding in your car like a coward.
Eddie was already in there.
What if everyone else was there too? 
Would they cuss you out and tell you to fuck off? 
You surely deserved it.
You cursed yourself when you exited the car, feet dragging you all the way to the door, knowing that you needed to do this. Inhaling a deep breath, you rang the bell, even the tune sounded the same, and the guilt inside of you started rising up again.
“Will you get that?” Nancy’s screaming voice could be barely heard from your side of the door, and your eyes immediately pressed shut together.
Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don’t let it be Eddie. Please don't let it be Eddie—
When the door swung open, the eyes that met yours blinked quickly, not knowing whether they were imagining it or not.
Your blinking eyes were quick to open widely as well, and a sigh of relief left your chest.
It wasn’t Eddie.
But it still wasn’t any better. Your face was quick to feel hot as your gaze met hers, and you felt ashamed. Not knowing what to say, you murmured a simple “Hey.”
Max stood in front of you with an unreadable expression, and you were afraid. For the first time, you were afraid of her.
Was she going to slam the door in your face? Was she just going to ignore you? 
You bit your lip out of nervousness at the silence, and just as you were about to open your mouth again, Max squealed—which you had never, ever heard her do before—as she wrapped her arms around you in a jump-like hug.
Your breath got caught in your lungs, and a hearty giggle escaped your plump lips as you embraced it, melting into the hug. 
“I can’t believe it.” She squealed, pulling away from the hug to see your face fully again, her eyes almost prickling with tears.
Jesus. She had grown up so fast.
Her face that fell around your shoulders felt weird now that she was so much taller and much closer to you in height. She looked different, and you couldn’t decide whether to feel ashamed or guilty about it.
Your eyes widened, almost in shock, you never expected to be perceived in any way positively, especially by Max. And she could sense that shock on your face, with the way your mouth visibly stood agape. 
“You-uh… you’re not mad?” You implored, eyes almost widening with the need to know. 
Her eyes softened, and the sorrows in your heart were quick to dissipate with it, she shook her head lightly, almost in an all-knowing way.  “Uhm- I-I know what happened.” She almost whispered, gaze falling toward the kitchen, implying that Nancy had already babbled about the day you left. 
Damn you, Nancy Wheeler. 
Your head popped up toward the kitchen, where Nancy was, as if you were going to run up to her, your cheeks fluttered with embarrassment, you never wanted Max to find out. 
“Don’t… please don’t be mad at her.” She turned your attention back to her with a gentle touch on your arm, easing your tense body with just one touch. 
“If she didn’t tell me what happened… I don’t think I’d even talk to you, Pinky.” She admitted shyly, your gaze on her still widening. 
“Wh-what exactly did she tell you?” You asked, you weren’t going to get mad at Nancy, you knew she didn’t have any malicious intentions, you just never wanted Max to know what her step-brother did. At least not until she was much older. Your brain almost short-circuited as you looked at her once again. She was already much older; you knew Nancy made the right call.
“Not much!” Max blurted quickly, maybe to ease your worries; maybe it was the truth. 
“Just that- uh-that… Billy did something horrible, and that you and Eddie left and then uh… the two of you went to.. uh—Chicago?” She stuttered, head hanging low before she looked back at you, trying to read your expressions.
“California,” You muttered.  “Uh-Los Angeles, to be exact.” You breathed, correcting her. Did she know more? Did she also know that you left Eddie after that, too? Did she know that you had been carrying the guilt of leaving Eddie, her and those four little idiots too? The only ones you didn’t have any contact with in the last five years?
“Is that… is that where you are now?” Her brows pinched together; she knew where you were—New York, Nancy had told her. But she just wanted to hear more from you, and you could sense it. 
You shook your head. “New York.” Your lips pursed together, and she gave you a slight nod as if to ask if there was anything else going on in your life, you caught it immediately. “My cousin helped me get this apartment, and she, uh, has this record shop there.” Max gave you a tight-lipped smile.
“And, uh, it has like a tattoo shop behind it—records by day and tattoos by night.” You revealed more, awkwardly, your stupid joke made you want to hit your head against the perfectly white marbled walls of the Wheeler’s. “I’m actually training to become a tattoo artist now,” You said with your gaze stuck on how much she had grown now, almost feeling embarrassed for some reason before Max’s gasp turned your attention back to her.
“No way.”
“Dude, you’re still so fucking cool.” She nudged your shoulder, and your face instantly lit up. All the worries in your head disappeared, giddiness replacing it when you realized Max still saw you as her cool older sister.
“You think so?” You teased, giving her a light-hearted chuckle, “Uh… yeah? Dude, you work at a record store that has a tattoo shop in the back… you invented cool at this point.” She encouraged, surprise and fascination washing over her face.
“If Mad Max says so” You teased, muffling her hair and earning whines from her. 
And you hated that it took you back to five years ago. Every stupid fucking thing you saw or did in this town made you take a trip down memory lane, but it was the worst with Max, because almost every memory with her had your head wandering off to the certain redhead’s step-brother. A chill ran down your spine at the idea of him even being back in town. But there was no fucking way, right? 
You had heard from Nancy that the Mayfield-Hargrove’s had moved out and returned to California by the time Max started going to college—somewhere far away from them. However, she and the other kids always returned to Hawkins in the summer. You assumed she wanted to reunite with her friends and that she was trying to avoid the step-fuckers—a nickname Max herself gave both Billy and Neil Hargrove.
“He-uh… He doesn’t know about the wedding, right? Or he isn’t… he isn’t back in town? Is he?” You stuttered eerily; you knew Nancy would never invite him, but you still wanted to make sure that he didn’t know about it or that he wouldn’t know you were back in town.
“No—god, no.” Max shook her head quickly. “He’s in California with the ‘parents’.” She scoffed. “He has no fucking clue.” She added.
And you nodded simply; one of your worries was now at ease.
“What about…” You trailed off, pretending to sound nonchalant about wanting to ask about Eddie, you were anything but as you fiddled with your fingers.
Max picked up on it immediately. “Eddie?” she asked almost smugly, making you nod quickly—too quickly to appear nonchalant.
“Oh!” She grinned, making your cheeks feel hot.
Damn it. How did he still have this effect on you without even being present?
“He came like an hour ago. The last I saw him he was arguing with Dustin about their nerdy game.” She rolled her eyes slightly. 
“Oh, uhm, that’s—that’s good…” You said unsurely, you knew he was here, because of his stupid van that was parked outside just behind your car, but what the fuck were you even going to do when you did eventually see him. 
Would you pretend like nothing happened?
Would he pretend like nothing happened?
How the fuck were you supposed to do that when your feelings for him were still all over the place? You already felt dumb for not managing to get over him in the last five years, it just seemed impossible considering how things were left off.
You cleared your throat, turning your attention to Max. You didn’t need Eddie to cloud your mind right now, the guilt of abandoning Max still filled your stomach.
“Max…” You caught her attention softly, and almost as if she knew you were going to bring up the subject, a pout overtook her features. 
“I—I’m sorry…” You started, voice shaky. “I fucked up, I should have let you know... A message, a call, a note… Jesus—anything.” Your voice was meek, causing you to gulp.
“I should have done something, I—Fuck… I don’t know what to say, just that I’m really sorry.” You were stumbling over your own words when your vision got blurry, eyes glossy as you looked up at her.
“Pinky…” She muttered comfortingly, you didn’t expect this kindness from her that you thought you were unworthy of. You had left her without anything, and she still greeted you with open arms.
Maybe you were wrong. Maybe people could forgive you, maybe they could forget. Maybe Eddie would laugh it off. 
“I know that…” She offered a sympathetic gaze. “I knew deep down that you would never leave without a goodbye if it wasn’t important.” She gulped, physically, that familiar lump in her throat returned with the emotional weight her words held. 
“I’m not a kid anymore.” Max gave you a small smile. “I know how hard that must’ve been for you, okay?” Her hands were quick to take yours into hers, fingers gently soothing you. “I don’t blame you. So don’t fucking blame yourself… I know how you get.” Her hands stood on your shoulder now, shaking you lightly in the guise of making you feel better. 
A poor smile appeared on your lips, Max possibly didn't realize how much her words mattered to you, how you needed to relieve yourself of the guilt. One gesture from her almost enough to heal the wound that coming back to Hawkins split open deep inside of you. 
“Oh my god!” Nancy’s shriek caused you to turn around. 
“Pinky, finally!” Her voice beamed, and before you even got a chance to say anything, she engulfed you in a hug.
 “I was about to lose it,” She whispered into the hug before her eyes widened at you and Max.
“Shit…” She muttered, knowing Max had probably already told you that she blabbed about your disappearance.
“I was going to mention that…” She tilted her head adorably, a shy smile adorning her lips as you brushed it off with a laugh.
“Don’t worry about it, Nance.” You waved your hands in dismissal. “I can’t be pissed at you for anything… at least for the next five days…” You hummed. 
“You better use your wedding privileges wisely.” You said, throwing her a wink, as you pulled away from the hug. 
Your hands rubbed together quickly. “So... uh–where’s everyone?” You stammered, you were mostly asking about Eddie, but you also wanted to know where the hell Steve and Robin were. You missed those two idiots who were attached at the hip. They could calm you down better than anyone.
“The other kiddos are only going to be able to make it to the rehearsal dinner and the actual wedding.” She pouted, knowing that she planned a five day full of activities for all the people closest to her and Jonathan, but Mike, Lucas, El and Will were all going to miss it. 
She huffed. “And uhhh… Steve and Robin are coming later tonight.” 
“You remember we got that brunch thing at Steve’s tomorrow, right?” She asked, eyes squinting with doubt, before her arms crossed against her chest. 
You almost groaned, head falling back. Fucking Steve and his stupid brunch plan. 
“How could I forget?” You said through pressed lips, trying your best to seem enthusiastic, it wasn’t that you had a problem with it—it was because you were nervous, so fucking nervous to be in the same close proximity of Eddie again.
“And Jonathan should be...” She eyed the backyard. “Yup, in the backyard with the band. I left all the band planning to him.” She shrugged, making your eyebrows quirk. 
Shit. She really did fucking love Jonathan, didn’t she? She would’ve never let anyone meddle with her own plans otherwise. 
“Uhh–Dustin and… the others–” Her voice slightly cracked, and you instantly knew she was talking about Eddie. 
“They’re-uh they’re just in the basement… uh—getting something I needed.” She nervously scratched her head. “I’m sure they’ll—uh… say hi when they can.” She gave you a nervous smile, eyeing Max before turning her attention to you.
And just like clockwork, just as Nancy started to babble more about the plans she had for the five days you were supposed to be in Hawkins, her words were quickly interrupted by the loud voice of Dustin, “Shut up!”
“Shut the fuck up!” He exclaimed excitedly as you gave him a slight giggle.
“I wasn’t talking,” You joked, and before you could get another word out, Dustin squeezed you in a tight hug, causing more giggles and excited squeaks to escape your lips.
“Looks like somebody missed me, huh?” You raised a brow.
“What have you been up to, Dustybun?” You asked with a sly smirk, causing Dustin to cringe at the nickname.
“Me? Jesus, you’ve been gone for five years, and you’re asking what I’ve been up to?” You shrugged.
“Where the fuck have you been?” You couldn’t pinpoint if it was genuine curiosity or a slight anger lingering in his tone.
“New York,” Max spoke before you, the attention in the room shifting towards her. 
“She’s a tattoo artist now.” She exclaimed excitedly, causing Dustin’s eyes to widen.
“You?” He questioned, causing Nancy to join in and nod in excitement.
“No fucking way!”
“Well, I’m not exactly—”
“Dude, that’s so fucking cool!” Dustin gushed, interrupting you.
“Man, I knew those sketches were too cool to let them go to waste on Eddie’s bedroom walls,” He snorted, but your brows quipped, his bedroom walls? Did he still keep those? 
“You have to tattoo me,” He raved, interrupting your thoughts as you stared at him in disbelief.
“No way, do you want Miss Henderson to kill me?” You huffed, crossing your arms against your chest.
“Oh, come on, just one little favor?” He pouted.
“Nuh-uh! The last time you asked me for a favor, she chided me for months, months!” You emphasized, “She even left me one too many voicemails scolding me!” Dustin sighed.
 “How about something not-too-big? Like the bat one you did for Eddie, it looks so fucking—”
“You talkin’ bout me, Henderson?” A voice rang from the basement, and the slight sound of his footsteps dragging closer and closer toward the two of you caused you to stop dead in your tracks. You always knew Dustin was too loud for his own good.
You gulped, physically, and that lump in your throat reclaimed its place, his voice caused further suffocation in your throat, not being able to breathe when you could recognize that husky tone anywhere.
But it felt different.
Something about him felt different.
Your brain was struggling to comprehend a thought, your mouth had dried up, and it was getting harder to breathe.
“Dude... you could not rock a tattoo like me, no matter how fuckin' hard you—” And there was a pause, a small hitch in Eddie’s breath, as he finally realized who Dustin was talking to. And you could feel that hesitation, that uncomfortable tension filling the room that was once comfortable.
“Pinky?” You could recognize him just by his footstep alone, but now you’re sure it’s him, the nickname still rolling off his tongue so easily and sugary, like you had never left, like everything was okay again.
You’re slow to turn to face him, heart pounding with worry before you fully take him in, trying to decide his facial expressions, waiting for the anger, disappointment, shame, and fury.
You cannot place what his gaze holds, but you have missed the small glimmer in his eyes, the same one he always had when he saw you, so promising, so mellow that you feel your heart tightening.
You take him in now more than ever, his cheekbones are hollow and his face is more defined. He has so much more muscle on him, and it makes you question how long he has been working out.
His hair still lays messily on his forehead, bangs framing his face perfectly. Black jeans paired with a band-tee, and not just any band-tee, a Corroded Coffin shirt that unintentionally has you smiling. His dark brown eyes are mesmerizing as ever, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to accept the sight in front of him. Trying to make sure that he isn’t hallucinating, that you are actually here.
He looks good, so good that you can feel your mouth dry up, words getting stuck in your throat, the guitar pick necklace adorning his neck makes you want to pull him closer toward you.
You study him more than you should; those deep brown eyes are staring at you like a deer in headlights.
When he takes a step closer, gaze still locked to yours, you feel as if your souls have made a bridge, one you weren’t sure if you would be able to mend.
Close. He’s very close, but still, not close enough, not to your liking anyway. You want to be close enough to take him in wholly; you want him to engulf you in his arms, protecting you from all that’s bad in the world, feeling every ounce of him. The one person you had been yearning for was standing a foot away from you, and it was truly painful.
“You came,” Was all that left his plump lips, his gaze was still soft. He was as nervous as you are, something that you didn’t manage to pick up on. 
If only he knew why you had to abandon him, maybe he would understand… Maybe he would even rid you of your guilt.
“Y-yeah, I did,” You stuttered.
“Max, Dustin!” Nancy announced. “Why don’t you two help me in the back?” Nancy threw a look that both of them understood immediately, running off after her without another word exchanged.
The incessant throb in Eddie’s heart returned when his attention turned back to you, he knew you would come, but he didn’t know how much that would crush him.
That rage in him, bubbling up at the surface, subsided quickly when you gave him that gentle look. “What’s Dustin yapping about?” He asked with a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood and ease his own worries.
“Oh— uhm… just that he wanted me to tattoo him,” You couldn’t help the nervous crack in your voice.
“You? Oh my god, you finally did it?” 
“Well… not exactly.” You gave him an awkward chuckle. “I’m training to be one, though.” You shrugged. 
“You know I’m a happy customer of yours.” He gave you a smile before he flashed his forearm, showing you the bat tattoo that you gave him five years ago.
He had much more tattoos now, but the bat tattoo you gave him still stood out among the thousand others on his forearm, at least it did to you. “Oh!” He breathed, attention diverting to something else as his hands fiddled behind him. He dug them in his back pocket, he struggled to get something it out. “Aha!” He exclaimed, waving the worn out notebook in front of your curious gaze. “But I’m definitely not giving you the ‘Promise’ notebook back!” 
Your pupils dilated at the sight; he still had it. He still had the notebook that your stupid sketches were sprawled all over. You gave it to him sometime during senior year, when he was having some trouble with his songwriting process. Your parents got you that notebook as a joke as soon as they saw the handwritten ‘Promise’ on the front, a silly play on your nickname. And you wanted him to have it; you wanted it to inspire him as much as it did you; your art mattered, and you wanted him to see that, so did his. 
“You… you still have that?” You asked, an astonished look still not leaving your features. “Yeah, it really played a key role on our first album.” He beamed. A crimson red blush was quick to wash over his cheeks; he wasn’t sure if he should’ve told you that or let you in this quickly when you left him on a whim in LA. 
“But… that’s— that’s still so fucking cool, Pinky,” His eyes widened, he shook off his thoughts in a flash. He had missed you, so fucking much—more than he let you on.
“So I’ve been told.” You meant to sound nonchalant. 
“What have you been up to?” You asked as if you didn’t know, as if you didn’t try to gather some information about him from Nancy and Jonathan. As if you didn’t listen to their album the second it came to your record shop.
“Just making some music, here and there.”
It was a lie.
He knew it was a lie, and you knew it was a lie.
Eddie made it big after the last time you saw him, signing onto the biggest record label and releasing an album that became way bigger than even his group had intended to.
“You don’t have to be so humble, I know how big you guys have made it.” You offer him a slight smile.
“Maybe a little bit.” He gestures with his hands, causing you to giggle. “Even had a gig here last week, the crowd was crazy.”
“It’s funny, though.” He murmured, causing you to raise your brows. “All the fuckin’ people at Hawkins who called me a freak and tried to shun me out was screaming my name... pretty weird fuckin’ feeling, huh?” He shrugged.
“I guess I know how the popular princess feels now,” He teased.
You nudged him slightly, “Guess you’re the popular boy of Hawkins now, huh?” He gave you a slight smile, and it felt comfortable, he was so easy to be with.
“Yeah, Jonathan worked really hard to get us for this wedding thing, you know?” He joked, giving a slight smirk.
“You and Jonathan, huh?”
“I don’t even know how you guys became best friends.” You added, wanting to joke.
“Yeah, I guess a lot happens when you don’t abandon people.” Ouch. You guessed you had deserved that one, but it still hurt to see him think of you this way, the entire atmosphere of the room had shifted, the casual conversation you had wasn’t as genuine as you thought it was, and you could see that he was hurt.
You knew he would be angry, but this seeming grudge wasn’t what you were hoping for. Maybe it was selfish of you, but you wanted him to miss you, tell you that he wanted to be with you, engulfing you in his arms as he spun you around, muttering how much he loved you.
But that wasn’t realistic, was it?
You gulped, feeling awkward, and now it was Eddie’s turn to feel bad. He internally cringed as he saw the look on your face, he knew that look so well. The way you played with your hair for some sort of comfort, he could sense that the guilt was eating away at you.
“I— I guess I deserved that.” You forced a smile, chuckling ironically, sensing the visible shift in Eddie’s face, the initial shock of reuniting with you wearing off, and his anger and hurt taking over. 
The tension that lingered in the air was interrupted by Jonathan swinging open the sliding door in the backyard and the four people standing behind him.
Before you could comprehend who they were, a squealing voice caused you to turn around, and a blonde-haired woman brushed past you. “Eds!” She called out, walking toward Eddie.
You looked up to see Jonathan leading Gareth, Jeff, and Frank to the backyard, telling them something about their gig, but you could care less as you stood still in your place, eyes glued on how Eddie greeted the girl, focus shifting solely on her as his hands caressed her shoulders, comforting her, as if you weren’t there, as if he didn’t care.
That screeching voice sounded familiar, but you couldn’t tell who the hell she was supposed to be when all you could see was her back and Eddie’s hands ghosting over her waist.
You were starting to feel small, trapped in your own body, with nowhere to go. Why was she hugging Eddie? Why were they so fucking close?
When she finally turned around, tucking her straight blonde hair behind her ears, glimmering blue eyes met yours, and you immediately realized who it was.
Chrissy.
The same Chrissy that was your supposed friend in high school, the same Chrissy who suddenly turned on you and made your life a living hell in senior year.
That’s why you didn’t recognize her—the strawberry blonde color she had was now more vanilla, and you hated to admit that she looked pretty—too fucking pretty.
Your eyes were narrowed with distaste; you had no right to be jealous, but you were powerless against that ugly emotion when it came to Eddie, swelling your chest way quicker than you intended to and stinging you harder as you struggled to keep a forced smile on your lips. 
Huffing, your mind drifted to Eddie. Surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with her, you decided. He knew some of the horrible things she did to you during your senior year, so there was no fucking way he would want anything to do with her.
Right?
“Oh my god, Pinky!” She squealed once again when she saw you, and you wanted to chuckle bitterly. With your tongue rolling inside your cheek, you tried to keep your damn mouth shut. She didn’t get to call you that nickname. Not when she did all of that during your senior year.
You didn’t return the hug she forced you into, eyes drifting to Eddie who was now avoiding your gaze. Lips pursed shut as he twisted his rings. Something weird was going on, and your stomach churned at the thought.
When Chrissy’s forced embrace on you ended, you barely forced a smile, and with a dead look on your face, you waited for her to disappear.
Why was she even here?
Who even invited her?
Running up to Nancy and asking her what the fuck she was thinking inviting her here would’ve been an exaggeration, you realized.
As envious thoughts sank further and further into your head, you realized something was wrong now. The way Chrissy leaned in to whisper something in Eddie's ear, giggling as she threw her head back.  
It meant something. It was like a sick feeling of deja-vu. A sinking feeling twisted your stomach, and a pang of insecurity gnawed at it. Your jaw clenched involuntarily; Eddie didn't even spare a glance in your direction. His attention was fully on her, and a wave of rage surged within you, threatening to overflow. The need to separate them, to pull her away from him, was almost unbearable.
Still, you knew you couldn’t do anything, and that was what made your blood boil, Eddie was nothing to you, he wasn’t even a friend to you—at least not anymore, something that you made sure of five years ago.
And before you could say or do anything more,
Chrissy smashed her lips against Eddie’s.
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