#the dude couldn’t even put on a red shirt

[topguncortez]

keleigh: “if you can’t behave, we’ll stand in the back.”

miles:

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.7 to lose someone you love

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 7/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 8.5k

a/n. sighhh i'm rly sorry for the wait. and thank you sooo much to the love for the last chapter omg :') this chapter is gojo pov and it's a bit different than the rest, but i still hope you enjoy and that it was worth the wait. if there are typos, they're not typos they're actually 100% intentional and you are the silly one

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When Gojo was just four years old, he called for the paramedics for the very first time. 

He had wandered around the house, wide and innocent blue eyes searching the room for the landline in the dim light of the evening, his lip quivering in a pout. His small arm reached up to pet around at the top of his parents’ dresser before his fingers wrapped around the phone. He couldn’t remember what the number was at first, the one his mother always told him to call in case of an emergency, but he remembered he scribbled it down somewhere with red crayon in one of his coloring books. By the time Gojo first realized he needed to call for help, located the landline, looked through all of his little portraits of dinosaurs and spaceships sprawled across the carpet of his room, found those three numbers, and then finally dialed them, his father had already been seizing and shaking on the bathroom floor for longer than twenty-four minutes.  

He was just a child. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know any better.

Gojo spent the remainder of that night hugging his mom in the hospital’s emergency room, his tears soaking through her shirt as she gently rocked him back and forth in her lap while whispering soothing words in his ear. His father lay motionless on the hospital bed before them, eyes shut, and Gojo will never forget the haunting sounds of the machinery that was keeping his father alive. It was a sudden onset seizure, likely stemming from the traumatic brain injury his father had suffered a few years ago, and the prolonged convulsions he experienced on the bathroom floor that night had resulted in severe brain damage. Gojo could still hear the echo of his mother’s silent cry when the doctors informed them that it’s unlikely his father would ever fully recover from this.

No reasonable adult would ever look a four-year-old in the eyes and say if you had called for help sooner or knew what to do, maybe your father would’ve still had the chance to live a long life. Yet, even at his young age, Gojo was aware of the energy in the room, and that explanation was the only truth his mind could grasp onto to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

After two weeks of clinging to life, his father miraculously woke up from his coma and persevered for the sake of his wife and son. Shortly after the incident, he began to have recurring seizures but fought through them each time. Without fail, he made Gojo breakfast in the mornings, even if it meant having to clean up the spilt orange juice on the counter every now and then because of how his hands could not stop trembling. He always walked Gojo to the bus stop, waving him goodbye, despite how troublesome and embarrassing he found it to use his cane. The love he had for his son was so palpable that it eclipsed the bitterness over how his life had ended up because of the blessing it had brought him.

In his prime, Gojo’s father was a renowned soccer player, so incredibly talented at the sport that he left a lasting mark on the way teams strategized, his presence on the field commanding respect, and he was one of the greatest talents the entire college division had ever seen.

He met Gojo’s mother at one of his freshman year games, a pretty lady in the stands that caught his eye from the sight of her laughter among her friends, her radiance drawing him to her from the field, and that’s how their love began. Exactly one year following that day, he stole one of his grandmother’s thrifted rings from her jewelry collection and that was what he used to propose. Gojo’s mother had accepted it with so many tears and so much snot running down her face, and he had never found her more beautiful. They married young and sweet, like most people back then.

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

No one knew that would be the last game of soccer he would ever play.  

It was a freak accident, a distracted driver behind the wheel of a gray Chevy on a dark and rainy night, veered straight towards Gojo’s parents car to avoid a branch on the road. In a moment that could only be described as his instinct to protect, he quickly swerved his vehicle, taking the brunt of the impact on his side. His family surrounded him at his hospital bedside as they grappled with the news that he would be unable to play the sport ever again due to his traumatic brain injury that would lead to lifelong motor function loss. According to the doctors and police, had he not swerved to shield his wife and unborn child, the outcome would have been far more disastrous. After months of rehabilitation, he regained enough ability to walk and just enough function in his extremities to welcome his newborn son in his arms.

When Gojo was just six years old, two years after witnessing his father’s first seizure, he stumbled upon a dusty, forgotten soccer ball tucked away in the corner of the garage. When he eagerly presented it to his father, excitement gleaming in his eyes, he was only met with a scowl and the demand to discard it, to never bring such things like that to him ever again. His mother protested, ensuing in an argument, and as Gojo lowered his gaze to the ball in his hands, he noticed his father’s faded signature adorned with a heart and message of love for his mother. The ink, once vibrant, now faded with time.

It wasn’t until Gojo turned seven that his father finally relented to teach him more about the sport, knowing it was all his son wanted for his birthday. With determination in his heart, Gojo pleaded for his father’s guidance, eager to kick around a nearly deflated, weathered ball. His father watched his son, expression morphing from reserved and stoic, softening to surprise, then hopeful, and he found himself cheering on his son’s clumsy endeavors on the field despite how many times he tumbled and fell. Because that was his son, his pride and joy, reminiscent of him embracing the sport that he himself had cherished so many years ago. 

As Gojo grew older and excelled at the sport, securing victory after victory in every youth league, his father’s health steadily declined. The recurring seizures caused by the brain damage from his prolonged convulsions on that fateful night exacerbated over the years and started to take an increasing toll on his body. Yet still, he never missed even a single one of his son’s games. Whenever Gojo swiftly sent the ball flying through the net, the first person his eyes would search for on the field was his father, the joy in his eyes being all he cared about in the world. Gojo lived to make his father proud, because it was the only thing that made him feel like he could make up for what little he had done to protect his father that night.

You were just a child. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know any better.

The day following Gojo’s eleventh birthday, his father had his second major seizure, falling into another coma, but this time he never woke up. Two years later, his mother made the tough decision to end his life-support, and then he was gone from their lives. Gojo’s mother was inconsolable, and he knew that his father took a piece of her soul with him to heaven that night. The piece that allowed her to smile. 

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning. 

But why was he remembering all of that now? 

The shrill of Gojo’s alarm clock woke him up from the intrusive memories that were washing through the fore-front of his mind, and he grumbled to himself before whacking at his nightstand haphazardly to shut the thing off. He ran a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe the sleepiness away, features instantly settling into an annoyed scowl as he blinked his eyes open and the filtering sunlight through the windows harassed his vision. 

He laid there for a few seconds, mending to the pounding headache at his temples with his fingers rubbing circles, and then he finally sat up in bed. Blinking at his sheets, the images of last night start to flash through his mind. The heavy music, the dim lighting of the bathroom, the dizzying jealousy, and the taste of you on his tongue–

The memory is supposed to arouse him, and would on any normal day, but because you had left him standing there stunned with no release of his own at all, he instead just feels a pulsing, soul-deep throbbing pain at his crotch that could really only be due to the fact he was left high and dry by you last night. He groans at the sensation, palm pushing down on his lower abdomen to try and relax the torture, which barely helped. It’s either he jerks off or takes a cold shower, and given the former was likely not possible for him right now since his god-forsaken brain decided to push the traumatizing experiences of his childhood to the forefront of his headspace first thing in the morning, meaning it’s unlikely he’ll be able to settle into the memory of you bent over that bathroom counter for him, he decides on the cold shower. And it’s safe to say that today already fucking sucked.

The moment the chill water hits the skin of his body, he recollects the look you had on your face right before you walked out on him. Soft, searching, to him almost seraphic, but you also looked wounded. And something from your anger with him since before he even had you in that bathroom, to the agonizing moment you left him in there by himself, told him he’d messed up big time with you somewhere along the lines. 

He knew he had been a jerk last night. He didn’t really have much of a right to be seethingly possessive of you, but the sight of you kissing another guy had him seeing red and his knuckles turning white. He finds himself clenching his jaw at the unwelcome memory even now. He figured he probably ruined what would’ve otherwise been an enjoyable night for you, and so you decided to get revenge by walking out on him. However, he can’t shake the feeling that things are messy and complicated now, primarily because of him, and he felt like he needed to apologize for dragging you into his weird, confusing emotions.

He gets himself dry and dressed, grateful for the barely sufficient relief he had down south, and sighs as he grabs his phone and taps on your name, thinking about what to say to you, and just settles on typing out Hey, can we talk? and then presses send. He turns the ringer of his phone off, tosses the device onto his bed and then heads out the door. 

Geto was sitting on the couch in the loft, rubbing an ice cube across his forehead as he sprawled on the cushions and let out low and consistent groans to himself. Gojo flopped down on the armchair across from him and assumed a similar position, rubbing at his temples to nurse his own headache. Geto opens an eye to look at him.

“Morning,” he grumbles. 

“I take it I’m not the only one that feels like they’ve been hit by a truck?” Gojo asks.

Geto makes a disgruntled noise and throws his head back on the cushion. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. God knows how much I had last night.” He reaches over to the console table in the center for the bottle of Ibuprofen and tosses it to Gojo, who catches it and stares down at the label. “I didn’t really see you drink that much though. Don’t know why you’re hungover.”

Gojo sighs. He wasn’t hungover. His headache was from the fact that had a lot on his mind. Like the feeling of your skin last night. And then the pain of being blue-balled. And also for some reason his father’s death. Very exhausting to juggle those thoughts at once. 

Gojo twists the cap off the bottle of Ibuprofen and pops two pills, drowning them in his mouth with Geto’s glass of water, then runs a frustrated hand through his hair. The man across from him raises an eyebrow.

“You good?” he asks.

“Super peachy,” Gojo replies.

He sighs. “Well, whatever it is, just make sure it doesn’t affect your play today,” Geto warns him, sinking further down into the couch. Gojo lets out an exhale through his nose. Geto usually pushed further for answers whenever he was in a mood, so the fact that he didn’t this time meant that hangover was bad.

“I’m more worried about you. You think you’ll be fine in a few hours?” Gojo asks. Geto just waves his hand in the air in response as he grabs the hand towel on his chest and drags it up over his face, shielding himself from the light of the room.

“I have no choice but to be fine. We have to win this game,” is all he says through muffling cloth.

Gojo nods, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the carpet. It was finally the game of the 28th, arguably the second-most important game of the season. If they take home the win, they’re automatically seeded into top sixteen teams, which means they’ll only have to win four more matches after today to take home the championship. But if they lose, they’re seeded to the bottom, and then four turns into a daunting eight. In the history of the league, not a single team has ever lost their pre-seed game and still continued to win the playoff championship. So Geto was right, they have no choice but to win today. Otherwise, they could kiss goodbye to a 12-year UTokyo championship streak.

“Not going for your run?” Geto asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Nah, not feeling up for it,” Gojo replies.

He clicks his tongue. “Never skip the pre-game ritual, man.”

Gojo groans, knowing that he’s right, and so he reluctantly gets up off the chair and heads back into his room. His phone lay there on the bed, facing down, and he felt so tragically taunted by it that he weighed the options of whether or not he should check if you replied back before his run or after his run. And then he’s wondering why you affect him this much in the first place.

He resolves to check after his run, and only gets one arm through his shirt before his hands betray him and he snatches his phone, eagerly tapping the screen to turn it on. 

He sees your name at the top, where you had just replied barely a minute ago. Sure, we can talk. He blinks at his phone when he sees the polite period at the end of your message, and the proper capitalization, not to mention a vocative comma? He was starting to feel really nervous.

He didn’t care that you had only replied a minute ago, he quickly typed out his response and sent it.

|| 10:35am Gojo: Do you know how to get onto the stadium field today?

He sees you typing, and he’s holding his breath.

|| 10:36am you: yes, I do. I’m going in w the newsletter journalists. Was this what you wanted to talk about?

What did he want to talk to you about exactly? Something like I’m sorry about being an ass last night, totally not cool for me to be that territorial over you, although I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again because seeing you kiss someone other than me kind of made me want to die. Also, I’m sorry for acting like you’re just someone I know, I don’t know why I did it. I guess it’s because I didn’t know if you thought of me as any more than just someone you know either, and that thought was frightening. Did I mention I hated seeing you kiss someone that wasn’t me?

He’s never really been good with words. Or feelings. 

10:37am Gojo: No, it’s not, it’s something else. I’ll come find you on the field before the game starts

He stands there, gaze fixed on his phone screen for the minute-long pause you took to respond, that for him felt like tortured eons, just for you to send-

10:39am you: k

Gojo finishes getting dressed for his run, anxiety brewing in his stomach drearily, and when he heads out the door of the house, the fresh morning air doesn’t help calm him down like it usually does. Of course, as he’s running, his thoughts wander to you. He’s thinking about the smell of your hair–or was it the perfume on your skin?–either way, it was intoxicating. The curve of your neck, that spot that made you whimper– fuck. Think of other things. Like the sound of your voice, soft and sometimes needy, but he enjoys it that way–makes his head spin. Or when you’re being sweet and thanking him for something you shouldn’t, because to him everything about you was a privilege and never a task. Even in the hot spring sun of the late morning, he finds himself missing the warmth from your body, and that look. That goddamn look in your eyes when you’re peering into his like you want him to–

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you.”

His legs stop him on their own, like they know something about the feelings in his chest that he doesn’t, and he’s standing still on the sidewalk of the neighborhood now. Short puffs of air escape his lips from his blood pumping fast through his body, and he could physically hear the sound of you in his head. Intimate enough to where he turns to the side slightly facing his surroundings, like there was no way it was just a memory and you weren’t actually near. He finds himself swallowing hard and having to consciously keep moving forward.

Gojo makes it back to the house, freshens up for the second time today, and gets dressed into his UTokyo soccer uniform with his signature #10 jersey. He leaves with Geto to campus, where all his teammates gather before eventually boarding the bus to the UTokyo stadium field ten minutes away. Coach Yaga yells their ears off in the locker rooms in an attempt to get their plays for today through their brains, and the exhilarating noises from the stands as they make their formal entrance through to the field fills Gojo’s senses, along with the obnoxiously loud music playing as pre-game rituals settle in. Gojo sets his bag down on the bench and joins the others in warm-ups for about fifteen minutes, before catching a chance to sneak away and look for you across the expansive pristine grass.

After lightly jogging around the perimeter of the field for a couple of minutes, he finally spots you, his raised eyebrows now flattening under the fringe of his hair as he relaxes. He didn’t realize he was tensing his shoulders until now. You were just beyond the sidelines near a hydration station, fidgeting with something in your camera case, lips pressed together in a frustrated expression, and he saw your body sulk with the sigh you let out as you must’ve realized you had forgotten something. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a slight smile, an unconscious reaction to seeing you look so damn cute from your troubled face decorated with a pout. And then he remembered he had been looking for you, and he had found you, and the only thing to do next was to be near you. 

He ambles up to you, and you only catch sight of him when he’s just a few feet away and finally standing in front of you. He sees your eyes widen slightly, lashes blinking once, twice, and then there’s a blush of color to your cheeks as you fidget with the stadium access badge hung around your neck. He noticed there were grass stains on your jeans over your knees when he looked down.

“Hey,” Gojo greets you over the loud music playing on the field.

“Hi,” he sees you say, and he realizes he can barely hear you.

“Let’s go over there,” Gojo yells, jerking his head over to the side.

He leads you over to an area tucked near the east side entrance, a corner slightly underneath one of the sectioned stands where the loud cheers of the stadium somehow reflected off less. It was about as private or silent of a place that the two of you could manage to have a conversation on a soccer field before a match, if you could just ignore the dressed up school mascots rehearsing their walk-ins and walk-outs through the entryway.

You take a few steps backwards until your back hits the concrete slab wall, and he’s in front of you as he watches you study him for a second, taking in the sight of his uniform, before your eyes finally meet his.

“Are you ready to take your photos today?” he asks you, poorly attempting to make small talk despite the images of you with him in that bathroom last night flashing through his memory. Now was seriously not the time to be turned on.

You nod, and respond “I am”, giving him absolutely nothing to work with.

He sighs. “Listen, about last night, I just wanted to apologize. For dragging you into that bathroom with me, although you did ask me to-” He sees you narrow your eyes and cross your arms across your chest. “Sorry,” he sighs, “Seriously, I just…I don’t know what got over me then.”

“You don’t know? Or you just don’t want to tell me?” you prod at him. He briefly considers pretending he doesn’t hear your question over the sound of the stadium, but he knows he wouldn't get away with that, not with the way you’re looking at him like he’s just one more fuck-up away from making you storm off.

He looks at your lips. “I guess the only thing I know is that I didn’t like seeing you kiss someone else.”

You shake your head and close your eyes. “I know you didn’t, Satoru. Otherwise last night wouldn’t have happened. What I’m asking is why.”

He’s struggling now, searching his head for answers, like he’s fighting for his life on a test that he didn’t study for. When he looks down, he notices your foot has been tapping impatiently. And when he looks back up, there’s that wounded expression from last night again. “I don’t know,” is all he can offer.

You uncross your arms from your chest, lips parting slightly as your eyebrows pinch upwards with a disheartened look. He sees your gaze shift slowly across the features of his face, searching, and he wonders if you can see something within him that he can’t. The thought terrifies him. “Fine. It’s my turn to speak.”

He nods slowly. He wasn’t sure what you wanted to say to him. He imagined you would just cuss him out with a few choice words for being a raging asshole last night and then you’d be on your merry way. But he senses sincerity in your voice. Not that he was phenomenal at reading people, though.

He watches as you clench and unclench your fists at your sides nervously, then twiddle with the strap of your camera, then tuck your hair behind your ears, then blink rapidly as you look up at him, then worry your bottom lip between your teeth, then open your mouth to speak just to close it again.

“Do you need me here for any of this?” he says in an attempt at a joke to ease you, but when all you give him is a glare, he’s fearful enough to be serious again.

“I like you.”

He blinks. “Thanks? I like you, too.”

“No, no. I like you as in I have feelings for you,” you clarify. Gojo’s eyes widen at the confession, and he stands up straighter. 

“Oh,” he finally replies when he realizes he hasn’t said anything yet, “I…I wouldn’t have guessed that.” Holy shit, if that was how you felt, then he really has been a raging asshole this entire time. 

You roll your eyes. “I know. You’re a hopelessly dense, menacingly flirty, sleazy frat dude college athlete,” you sigh, “But I still like you. Unfortunately, tragically, annoyingly, much to my dismay, against my better judgment,”

“Okay, I get it-”

“I think it started that night you stayed with me when I was stranded with my flat,” you confess suddenly, your chest rising a little bit faster, and his expression softened. “I just really appreciated you being there for me.”

His voice is gentle when he speaks next. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I would’ve been there if it happened ten times over,” he pauses, “although I’d seriously question your ability to drive if it happened that many times.”

“And I think it started when you walked me out to the practice field for the first time, and you told me you cared about my dreams,” you say with a slight step forwards to him, unable to acknowledge his words at all, as if there was a script you needed to stick to that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart in front of him. 

He finds himself instinctively leaning towards you, close enough to where he notices you’re wearing a different perfume today. “But that was before the night of your car incident,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you nod, and there’s that look in your eyes that he loves, “and I also think it started that first night we met and you looked sad when I said we weren’t friends.”

Gojo’s eyes widen, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, and he finds himself breathing shallowly as he listens to your words. “y/n…I think you’re working backwards here.”

“I’m trying to say I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you say to him, “they were tiny at first, I didn’t really see them, but now they’re too big for me to hold all by myself.”

Gojo nods slowly, and he already knows what you’re going to ask of him next.

“I like you in a way that makes me want more from you,” you admit, eyes steadily on his with resolve, “I don’t want to be just someone you know, or someone only for sex-”

“y/n-” he tries to interrupt you.

“And I certainly won’t be someone that sits around to wait for a guy if he doesn’t want me back,” you say, but there’s an apprehensive look in your eyes when you speak next, “so, I need you to answer to my feelings.”

Gojo blinks at you, his heart beating fast in his chest from your confession, and he feels like with every testing second that he fails to answer you back, you slip further and further away from him.

He knew he had affection for you. He always wanted to be close to you, even when he already was, as if he couldn’t get close enough. He wanted to take care of you, and see that softness in your expression when he knew you felt safe and happy. He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else, and it took him this damn long to realize as he stood in front of you that he had no interest in being with anyone else either. So then why did his chest feel so tight? And why was he struggling so much to give you an answer?

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning. 

Gojo’s eyes widened as the memories of his life flashed through his mind, a chill running down his spine as they knock the wind from his lungs and he feels that same sense of dread that has been following him like a ghost since that day when he was just four years old, standing in the hallway, wondering why his father was having a nightmare on the bathroom floor when he should’ve known it was something far worse than that.

Gojo blames himself for so much that had gone wrong in his life. And he should know that it’s not his fault, but all of his grief was greedy to breathe and live, desperate to find a reason for why he had to lose someone he loved, and his grief found a home in all of his guilt.

And he was terrified to lose someone close to him again. Even if he decided to see what could become with you, even if he thought for a moment that he was allowed to feel any sort of happiness with you, the thought of falling short and failing frightened him. He was so tired of adding to a long list of regrets in his life. And he knew he wasn’t what you needed— what you deserved.

“I…” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way about you.” He knows he sounds convincing enough from the way the light in your eyes dimmed, anticipation faltering and replaced with a sad expression over your features. He needs to take a shaky breath to continue speaking. “It seems I’ve led you on in a lot of ways, and I apologize for that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen anymore.”

You’re silent for a long moment, twiddling with your fingers as you look up at him. “I see…” you say, and when he sees your lower lip quiver slightly, he feels sick. His instinct is to reach out for you, pull you closer to him, but he knows that’s not a luxury you would allow for him, and he knew it wasn’t one he deserved either. 

Your voice is trembling when you speak next. “I appreciate you letting me know. And you don’t have to worry about not leading me on anymore, because this will be the last time you see me.”

His entire body runs rigid. 

“Why?” It’s a stupid question, but he asks it anyway.

“So I can get over you.”

All he can do is stand with the feeling of a chill in his bones.

“And I ask that you’ll respect my space while I do,” you add on at the end.

He’s silent for a long moment, then lets out the breath he was holding in. “I will,” he says, the promise leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

There’s a moment where you both just look at each other, as though the two of you were trying to hold onto the moment, but you’re the one to break out of it first, and he’s the one to wish it would’ve lasted a little longer.

“I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” The words already sounded like goodbye. “I’ll make sure you look nice in your photos,” you say with a small smile, holding your camera up slightly, “and good luck today.” 

He wonders if he’ll regret this moment.

“Thanks.”

He steps aside so that you can walk past him and back out to the field. Gojo takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and relaxes his shoulders. Well, that was intense. Definitely not the direction he thought that conversation was going to go in at all, but that’s fine. He handled it fine. Totally fine. Things were going to be totally fine. He just has to play the match now.

The first step he takes back towards the field, he feels his uneasiness return, with the second step the feeling of his heart beating becomes violent in his head, with the third step he swears he can’t feel the tips of his fingers, with the fourth he feels severely nauseous, and with his fifth- was he seriously about to throw up?

He barely makes it back onto the grassy field cutting across the obstacles of people at the sidelines, using all his strength to not double over before he reaches a table and grabs one of the water bottles. He sees a group of men, all dressed in suits and loitering near the team manager’s station, perk their heads up at the sight of him and he’s groaning internally. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to any damn recruiters, but he sees one of them bold enough to approach him in his periphery. He sighs, taking one last gulp of water, and tries to stand up straight and look like he wasn’t going insane.

“Hi, I’m Jousuke Tsuda, recruiter for Tokyo Metropolitan’s national league team,” he says and stretches his hand out for Gojo to shake. The man looked aged, with thick creases to his forehead that could only mean he’s witnessed a hell of a lot of life and he has the soul to prove it.

Gojo’s eyes widen at the mention of Tokyo-Met’s team, and he grabs onto the man’s hand in as firm of a handshake he could manage. “Gojo Satoru.”

The man laughs. It’s deep with a slight crackle. “I know your name, son. Every recruiter in the country does. You’ve got a lot of eyes on you right now.”

“I’m flattered.”

The man raises an eyebrow at him. “Surely you feel pressured.”

Gojo only hums to himself.

The man glances at his watch. “I know the match starts in a few, but if I could have a moment of your time. Take a walk with me?”

“Sure.”

The two trail down the line of the field. “I’ll get straight to the point, kid. Tokyo-Met’s really keen on scouting you for the national league following your graduation,” he says.

Gojo feels like he should be excited about that news, actually, he should be ecstatic and groveling at this man’s feet, but instead he just feels empty and hollow inside. 

“Forget the fact that you’ll be playing in the nation’s most revered team,” the man continues, “but compensation is high, too.” He pulls his phone out from his front suit pocket, tapping away at his calculator app, then turns the screen towards Gojo. Holy shit. “I’m talking about a 350 million yen per year contract here. I could advocate for higher based on how well you perform the rest of the season.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Gojo responds.

The man is silent for a second then sighs. When the two of them reach a somewhat secluded bench near the corner of the field, he sits down on it and expects Gojo to do the same, to which he complies.

“You know, I’m used to much more enthusiastic reactions from players that hear this kind of news, although they’re usually ecstatic for barely a hundred million a year compared to what I’ve just offered you,” the man says.

“I guess it’s the pressure,” Gojo says to him, “it’s got my emotional response circuit all fried up, y’know?” He was pulling excuses out of his ass. 

A small hmph noise is heard beside him before he sees the man pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his slacks. “I know your father has left big shoes to fill, kid. I can’t imagine the fear of feeling like you’ll fail, or the anxiety of an injury taking you out any time you’re on the field, not wanting history to repeat itself.”

Gojo’s eye twitches and he narrows his eyes at the man seated beside him. “My dad got injured in a car accident, not while playing the sport.”

“I know,” he responds, finally pulling a cigarette out of the pack, holding it between his two fingers as he rests his wrist on his knee. “The story touched the hearts of everyone in Tokyo, and the entire soccer community in general. I remember reading about it in the school newspaper. Back in the day when they still printed those things out.” Gojo’s surprised, and he’s only given a sideways smile before the man continues. “I knew your father, went to the same college as him.”

“I don’t think he ever mentioned you,” Gojo says.

He lets out a hearty laugh. “He despised me. I was a money-hungry finance major that saw a huge opportunity in mediator sports recruitment agencies. Figured if I could sign a player like your father to my start-up, I’d be set for life. He was a smart man not to sign, regardless of how things turned out.” He shakes his head musingly. “I gave up after that and got a real job. You’ll find a lot of your hopes and dreams die in college.”

“I see,” Gojo says.

The man leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and looks over with a serious expression on his face. “Tell me, son, what does this sport mean to you? Why have you dedicated your entire life to playing it?”

Gojo only gives him a cursory glance.

“Is it the fame and attention? The pride? The thrill? The prospect of earning millions and then retiring at thirty, and you get to watch your wife and kids playing in your grand estate’s pool on a sunny summer Sunday while you’re swirling around a glass of ‘90s scotch in your hand?” he asks, tone derisive but luring. “Or does it mean something more to you?”

Gojo looks down at his hands that were clenched tightly into fists. He relaxes them so that his fingers fall open weakly and his palms face the sky. He remembers the feeling of being a kid, the smell of freshly cut grass consuming his senses, the sight of bruises on his knees from how many times he fell on the field chasing after the ball, and the admiration in his father’s eyes every single time he stood back up. “It’s a chance to prove myself,” he finally says.

“Prove yourself of what?” the man pushes.

“That I’m capable of greatness,” Gojo admits, “like my father.”

The man nods slowly in acknowledgment. “Yes, your father was a great man. But not because of how he played the game. He was a great man because he knew which sacrifices were truly important.”

Gojo looks at him wearily. “Are you trying to tell a player you’re attempting to recruit that the sport isn’t important?”

He shakes his head, looking straight ahead. “No, it’s important. But it’s the meaning you give to your life outside of it that gives it importance.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow at him, not really sure what to make of the cryptic sentiment.

The man claps his hands together and stands up. “Alright, I’m sure that’s all the time you’ve got for me. Think about my offer, and if any other recruiters approach you with better ones, just know I’ll push for higher.” He hands Gojo his business card and brings his cigarette to mouth, balancing it between his lips. “Reach out if you have any questions.”

Gojo looks down at the card, his finger tracing the edge of it as he studies the shimmering gold lettering. “Why not just hit me with your best offer and leave? Why bother having this kind of conversation with me?”

The man pulls his cigarette from his mouth, pinching it between his two fingers once again. “We’ve all got regrets we want to make right, kid,” he says. And with his hands in his pockets, he walks away. 

Gojo watches the man as he makes his way down the sidelines back to the cluster of men in suits. When he hears the referee whistle, he shoves the business card in the pocket of his uniform shorts, and makes his way towards the center of the sidelines.

His teammates instantly come up to him with optimistic smiles and encouraging pats on his chest and back, trying to keep the energy high to manifest a win for today, but Gojo just feels exhausted and like he’s drowning. He has so many thoughts swimming around in his head, he can’t even begin to explain, and he just wants someone to see through him at this moment. 

The teams stand on the field for the national anthem, and then Osaka Uni’s team disperses while UTokyo’s alma mater plays. Coach Yaga yells for all the players to huddle before the coin toss and reminds them of their plays for the afternoon.

Nanami pulls his sweatbands onto his wrists, Geto pulls his hair back up into a bun, Chosou pulls tightly on the straps of his goalie gloves, and Gojo pushes his hair up off his forehead to snap his headband onto his face. He looks around to his other teammates and that sense of pride he feels to be a part of this team swells dully despite his emotions.

UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kick, and Gojo finds his place in the center of the field. The crowd is already cheering preemptively, their pride in their home team evident in the passion of the filled stands, and Gojo peers across the large expanse of the field as he rests his foot on top of the soccer ball. It’s a scene he’s seen a hundred times in his life, but the sight is daunting today. He takes his foot off the ball when he hears the referee signal the start of the match with a short piercing shrill of his whistle, and the second Gojo draws his leg back and his foot makes contact with the ball, sending it flying forward, he can already feel that something feels very off.

Every single time he had the ball in his possession, his footwork felt heavy and delayed. His teammates had set up more than three chances for him to score, and he shot wide every single time. The crowd’s cheers started to diminish, and he could feel the growing discontent and exasperation from all eyes on the field. Ten minutes before halftime, they were down 1-0, and stakes were starting to feel high. 

One of his teammates passes a ball right to Gojo’s favored foot, the crowd instantly erupting with noise and stands to their feet as Gojo shuffles the ball past the penalty line, through Osaka’s defenders, eyes locked with the perfect opportunity to strike. This was good, he had his rhythm back, even if just for a moment, and he can see it, clear as day–the trajectory to the goal. With the feeling of slick sweat on his face and determination in his veins, he withdraws his leg back to kick the ball. The world went silent in his head, the only sound being the beating of his heart, and-

“this will be the last time you see me.”

When he recalls your voice, everything moves in slow-motion as his ankle slips slightly on the grass from his moment of hesitation, and then the ball is swiftly stolen by an opposing team player and maneuvered past him. 

“Fuck!” he hisses, immediately turning his head around as he helplessly watches the opponents players move with fervor in pursuit of another goal. The crowd hushed in horror as Osaka passed the ball through UTokyo’s defense, swiftly steadying down the side and sending the ball flying through Chosou’s outstretched arms. 2-0, and the lead ref calls for halftime. 

“Dude,” one of his teammates comes up to him as they walk back towards the benches and throws his arms up in the air, “what the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Seriously, man, not a single goal in the first half? You know how many times I’ve set up a shot for you?" another one of his teammates chimes in, nudging Gojo’s shoulder way harder than he’d usually warrant, and shortly after, a blaming fest begins among the players.

“Enough!” Coach Yaga yells out. All of the players quiet down and look at him, some grudgingly gulping down water while others just try to regain their breath. Gojo’s arms just hang at his sides in defeat. “We’re pushing everything on offense now, we can’t afford to miss any more shots,” Coach Yaga says, his fear of losing the match evident too despite his rough tone, “Satoru, I’m switching you out. Dai, take his place.”

“What?” Gojo asks incredulously, charging forward so he’s in front of the older man. “I’m not getting benched.”

“You will, because I say so,” Coach Yaga says sternly, “you’re distracted, boy. I can see it all over your face.”

“I’m n-”

“Just sit down,” Coach Yaga lets out a disgruntled noise. “When players are distracted, they get injured. Have faith in your teammates.”

“Coach,” Gojo asks again, this time almost pleading. He hardly ever questioned Coach Yaga’s calls, he had a great deal of respect for the man. But something within him just absolutely refused to get benched today.

Coach Yaga stares at him for a long moment, and it’s only when one of the refs chirps their whistle that he finally exhales and gives him a reluctant jerk of his head towards the field.

Geto sets up the perfect shot for Nanami to sweep for a kick that barely lands through the goalie’s lunge for the ball, and then on the next play, secures another goal himself. The score is tied, 2-2, with eight minutes left on the clock. Gojo manages to steal the ball on a defensive play, and it’s only really a stroke of luck that he manages in one solid pass the entire game, straight to Geto’s foot, crowd roaring, and he watches his best friend shoot and sink within the last minute and a half of the game. 

3-2. UTokyo’s win. 

Gojo sighs, exhausted as he makes his way to the bench, crouching down and zipping open his duffle bag. Spirits are low among the team despite the excitement from the crowd over their win because of how hauntingly close the loss felt during the last moments of the match, disinterested in celebrating at all as they meekly dispersed across the field. Gojo knew he was going to get a massive yelling-to from Coach Yaga and he could feel the searing disappointment from his teammates for not carrying the game more. This was just a bare win, could’ve gone either way, and his performance today wasn’t a good look for any recruiters either. He felt so emotionally and physically drained from this entire day, and he wasn’t sure how the hell he could feel any better.

Shuffling through his bag for a water bottle, his knuckles hit something cold and metallic-sounding tucked away inside. He hums to himself curiously before grabbing it and pulling it out.

strawberry vanilla soda.

Hm. This wasn’t the one you gave him a couple of days ago. He already drank that one. Did you sneak this into his bag? His brow furrows, and he stares at the sparkling smiling sloth on the label. When he turns the can in his hand, he sees a little note messily scribbled in black ink. 

good luck today! u got this :) ur a star

His eyes widened.

And putting his heart through a shredder would’ve hurt less than when he realizes what an idiot he’s been this entire time.

He’s instantly searching the field, peering through crowds of people, mascots, banners, flags, for any sight of you. He’s not sure how or why he goes in the direction that he does, but deep down it’s because he knows you like taking millions of pictures of flowers, and the west side exit has endless blooms of them. And so when he runs out that way, cleats tapping against the concrete pavement that leads out into the courtyard in the front of the stadium, and spots you standing there, he finally lets out the breath of air he feels like he’s been holding in his chest all day.

You’re aiming your camera at teal and orange petals scattered across the decorative florals lining the raised concrete planters, then pull it down from your face and twiddle with the settings, tilting your head to the side. You then pluck at one of the blooms that was spilling over the edges, bringing it to the tip of your nose curiously. And he just watches, chest heaving from the urgency that he rushed to get to you, heart aching from the desperation of wanting to be near you. He wanted to ask you how you were feeling, he wanted to know how your pictures came along, he wanted to know what you were doing after this, and he wanted you to be with him. But most importantly, he wanted to make sure that this wasn’t the last time he ever saw you again. 

It isn’t until a minute after that you seem keen on his presence too, and you swiftly turn your head in his direction, surprised. “Satoru?” you say. He wonders if he’ll melt. He wonders if those ice-cold barriers he’s built over the years could thaw just from the way you say his name.

But when he takes a step forward, you take a step back. And he halts. The expression on your face was unfamiliar to him. Once soft, curious, trusting. Now you looked at him like you were guarding something, keeping it safe from him, and he no longer had the right to intrude. And then he realizes the hell he’s put you through all this time.

He regrets pushing you away.

“I know I said I’d respect the fact that you want space,” he says through bated breath, “but I…I just can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

You’re solemn when you look at him, reading the plea in his eyes, and then slowly shake your head. He feels like he can’t breathe. 

“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

And then you walk out of his life.

a/n. thank you for reading! i have a few more author notes that explain a few things that i couldn't really find a way to fit into the chapter organically, but wanted to address before moving on, if you're curious you can find them here. hope to see you in the next one! pls lemme know if i missed any tags i'm sorry if i did :')

➸ take me to chapter eight!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @lost-resonance @foulprincesscycle @purplehallow11 @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @erencvlt @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @hojoslutoru @drthymby @ninitoru @btszn @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @fvsm4x @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @cierocanteat (thank you to everyone <3)

[evanpetersmybf]

All he asked for was you

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Tate loves you too much. He would do anything for you, to keep you by his side, to make you love him forever. He would cross any line to make you his, it doesn't matter how evil it is... But was it really worth it?

Genre: ANGST!! and some smut

Word count: 5,104

Warnings: Obsessive, stalkish and violent behavior, implicit toxic relationship; mentions of weapons, murder, mental health issues, family issues, school shooting; use of Y/N, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v. (i hope i'm not missing any...) NOT PROOFREAD !!

A/N: English isn't my first language!! Sorry if I have some mistakes and if Tate's a bit ooc (i tried to keep him in character as much as i could). I wasn't sure (and still not) if this is good but I spent days writing it, so I had to post it.

A small playlist with songs that inspired me for this: monster by meg and dia, pacify her by melanie martinez, all i want is you by rebzyyx, skyfall by adele, psycho by doko, paparazzi by lady gaga, dark red by steve lacy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate never believed in love, nor was he a romantic one. 

In fact, he despised it. How could he even believe in that feeling when he never felt loved by his own mother? At least that’s what he pretended.

The blond always had the facade of a tough guy, although he couldn’t fool anyone. Constance knew well he was a sensitive boy. Probably the most crybaby ever to exist… And the most unstable one.

Now he was here. His chest going up and down, breathing shallow and fast. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something or perhaps someone. Some silly tears were rolling down his cheeks while he anxiously fidgeted with a ring on his finger. The clock on the wall continued its tick-tack. The time kept running. His heart kept beating. It was getting late.

He refused to look at the wooden floor. He didn’t want to accept reality. If Tate did that, he would feel like the biggest monster on Earth.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t stay like this.

He had to do something real fast.

Today, 18:40

You were supposed to arrive at 19:00.

But he remained there, next to the corpse of his rival. A bloody ax beside the dead man’s bleeding head.

Whom he thought was his worst enemy, was someone really dear to you.

Well, Tate fervently believed this was something justified. He couldn’t stand that fucking asshole anymore! That scumbag needed to be put back in his place. And Tate only did that. Furthermore, he actually helped him. He took him away from this shitty world. It was a favor.

He had already killed his mother’s boyfriend, so why was he feeling guilty?

Maybe because his victim was special to you. Because his death would hurt you. And Langdon swore to God he would never let anybody or anything hurt you, including himself.

He loved you.

He wanted to be the one to hold your hand forever.

Tate snapped back to the present and frowned. He picked up the weapon, putting it in his backpack. He didn’t even mind cleaning it. Then, he proceeded to knelt right next to the lifeless dude and cleaned the blood surrounding his body; afterwards, he dragged him to the basement and…

19:00

A knock on the door.

You arrived.

“DAMN IT!” 

He left his dead foe lying limp on the cold basement ground and quickly ran upstairs, straight to his room. He also left the backpack there.

Tate spent the last twenty minutes cleaning the mess he made in the living room after he atrociously smashed your friend’s head, forgetting that had poor time to get ready. 

He desperately looked for clean clothes, scrambling the entire closet in search of fresh garments while he cussed at himself, at his mother, at that freaking boy, at the entire world but you.

Finally he found some jeans and a striped shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror after changing and cleaned the tiny drops of blood that stayed on his face and hands. He never realized he left the bloody clothing on the bed.

Another knock.

19:07

Tate opened the door, immediately throwing himself at you and giving you one of the warmest hugs. His demeanor with you was completely different; you were the only creature capable of changing his fucked up mind into something more beautiful, more peaceful. The issue was that it only happened when he was with you, otherwise he would be aggressive and rude as usual.

You got the best of him. 

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, babe…” Voice muffled since his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Tate always did the same thing; clinging onto you like a small koala would.

“Heh, me too, hun!” You spoke with the same soothing voice he adored. Tate giggled and placed a tender kiss on your jawline, then another, and another, and another.

Soon enough, he was peppering kisses all over your neck, making you moan softly. Oh those sounds. He could hear you melting under his touch, his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

He loved making you squirm, making you laugh, making you feel loved.

He was way too sweet.

Only if you knew.

Four weeks before today…

Tate has always had the bad habit of stalking you. Yeah… He wasn’t proud of it. But can you blame him? He’s constantly afraid of you leaving him. He wanted to make sure you never did so… Otherwise he would die. Literally.

Don’t ask how he would die. You already know the answer.

You two were supposed to have a date, albeit you had to cancel your meeting.

And that, of course, made him overthink. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were going to study; he felt betrayed, as if you were rejecting him. And Tate hated and feared rejection to the bone.

“Pretty please? Please, Y/N! I don’t wanna go home early, mom’s gonna be there and-and–”

“Tate, I can’t skip this. I have like, a test every day next week and I must study. I don’t wanna fail. Please, sweetie. I promise I’ll make it up to ya’, mhm?” 

He rolled his eyes and whined, almost throwing a tantrum. He didn’t try to manipulate you on purpose. It came out naturally. “But I need you, Y/N! Why do you always do the same, huh? Am I not that important? Don’t you love me any longer?”

His childish crying continued for a couple of minutes, until it stopped and the blond agreed a deal with you.

You thought he was calm now, but no. How naive.

You went to the library to study as you said… Without noticing he followed you.

Quietly, he got into that maze of books after you and hid behind some shelves.

Tate noticed you sat on an empty table. Thank God. Oh?

Who. Is. He.

A man Tate didn’t know sat next to you. Really close. Too close for Tate’s liking. He tried to think he was a stranger, that he wasn’t going to talk to you… He was wrong.

He clenched his hands into a ball when he saw that idiot talking to you, and the worst part was that you followed suit. It seemed you two were friends or something.

How DARE YOU talk to another man? No, how dare you talk to another HUMAN BEING!?

Tate was insecure 24/7.

If you weren’t there, Tate was falling apart. It was simple.

No Y/N, no happy Tate. Was it too hard to understand?

Three weeks before today…

It was Friday. Tate was impatiently waiting for you outside the campus, hanging a small bouquet of flowers he picked up.

Once he spotted you coming out from the building, he waved his hand and embraced you tightly once you were in front of him. He gave you the adorable present.

“Tate!”

“How did you do? Did you pass your tests? Don’t tell me, I’m sure you did.” Said, grinning from ear to ear. He was away from you for an entire week. How did he survive? He didn’t know, but he was glad to have you with him again. “Tell me about your life in the last days, baby. Please? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!”

There he was, the one and only drama queen Tate Langdon.

You talked about the tests, about how the teachers were being a pain in the ass (which clearly triggered in him the intense desire of hurting them because they stressed you), and… About a guy. The same guy from the library, with whom you spent the entire last week studying. He couldn’t stand it. He saw him as a threat to your relationship, especially since he was an old friend that you met many years ago. 

As the days went by, you gave him more reasons to hate that jerk. Why? Well of course because you spent hours at the library doing homework or studying with him. Or even hanging out with him and other people.

In reality, you went out with him to a museum just once, and then skating with other colleagues. Nothing compared to the time you spent with Tate; in a week, you would hang out with him almost daily, and if you were way too busy, he would go to your place and spend the night there. He was so attached to you to the point he had to see you at least once a day. And that’s why he was so jealous of your friend. Tate couldn’t stand the idea of you sharing your life with someone else who wasn’t him or your family… And he also got jealous of them, but he was handling it.

Two weeks before today.

After Tate’s pleas, you decided to introduce your friend to him.

Probably a big mistake.

The date was really awkward; your friend tried being nice, and Tate acted surprisingly kind. Of course it was odd; usually, he despised all of your friends and treated them badly, yet this time was different. You were stunned, however, you tried to ignore it and instead got happy as he finally accepted a random person as your buddy. 

Still and all, he hated that moron. It didn’t matter how much he tried liking your pal, he was jealous of him. He was getting on his nerves. He denied the fact that you had more love for other people that wasn’t him. Tate desired being your only one. Your number one. Your entire world. Because that’s what you were for him. And he was willing to do whatever to keep you with him.

Tate exchanged numbers with him and meticulously plotted a plan to ascertain he would never talk to you ever again. At first, it came out as a simple “I’m gonna scare the shit outta him”, nonetheless, it turned into a darker idea, very likely involving physical violence.

One week before today…

The last few days, Tate won Peter’s trust. Ah yes. That’s your friend's name. You were glad that he finally opened his warm heart and began to meet more people besides you.

You thought he needed a friend, an empathetic person who could support the blond when you weren’t available, that way he would feel less lonely and depressed.

They went to the cinema, to the arcade, even to a music store. Everything was going according to what he planned.

Eventually, he invited Peter to his place to play chess and other board games on a Sunday afternoon, before you arrived and had a date with Tate due to your anniversary. 

Today, 16:00

Peter and Tate were eating pizza and having a great noon, talking about their lives and random stuff, like school and music. They both enjoyed Nirvana, and since Peter played the guitar, he agreed on teaching your boy how to.

If it weren’t for Tate’s twisted mind, they would’ve been best friends.

The guitarist wasn’t a bad guy. He was a great buddy that really appreciated you and the crybaby, but Langdon had something else in mind.

18:00

The men watched a movie. Tate didn’t even know its name; in fact, he didn’t even pay attention to it. Instead, he was focused on his next actions, plotting them carefully.

“Crap, mom’s gonna arrive soon…” Tate mumbled with annoyance, biting his nails and tapping his foot on the floor. He was lying. You were going to arrive, not Constance.

“Damn, bro. Well, I don’t have a problem. I wanna meet her.”

“Huh? No no no, you shouldn’t. That bitch is crazy.”

Peter scoffed, disagreeing with Tate’s rude manner to call his own momma.

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk like that. I bet she loves you!”

That pissed him off. “You don’t know anything, Peter. Your family is different. Your life’s different. You won’t understand!” He yelled, standing up from the couch and now pacing around the room, trying to keep it calm.

“Dude, calm down!

“NO! I fucking won’t!”

The screaming continued for a while. Tate revealed his unstable and crystal self. Even something so insignificant could drive him to the edge, like what happened today. That definitely surprised the other one, who used to think that Tate was a sweet boy. “I dunno why Y/N is dating you.”

“What did you say?” Tate abruptly stopped pacing.

“Y/N. Y/N doesn’t deserve you.”

“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT!?” He pounced on Peter, gripping his neck with one rough hand, applying enough pressure on the sides to stop the blood circulation in his carotids and make him lose consciousness.

Before passing out, Peter, getting pale, managed to croak out: “Because she deserves better…”

Soon enough, he fainted, giving Tate minutes to think about what else to do. 

Your boyfriend wasn’t planning on murdering Peter today. No, he didn’t have time. He also was supposed to meet you.. But this was the perfect excuse! And not only that; he indirectly admitted he was in love with you! Or that’s what Tate interpreted with his delusional point of view.

Peter didn’t feel anything romantic for you, he was just worried Tate might be too unhinged to be your partner.

Thus, he went to his room and grabbed his backpack. Then, went to the garden shed and picked up the ax that belonged to his father, and a bottle of lye.

He had to get the job done quickly, nevertheless, he lost track of time.

18:30

Tate came back to the living room, just to notice that Peter wasn’t there anymore.

“FUCK IT!” Langdon got nervous. What if he escaped? What if he told you that Tate was crazy? He couldn’t allow this, not at all.

Thankfully, or maybe not, Tate found Peter crawling towards the front door, the poor dude still feeling dizzy after being choked.

Tate didn’t have any mercy.

“Where do you think you’re going, lil’ piece of shit!?”

18:38

Tate finally did it. He brutally murdered Peter, smashing his head several times with the ax.

He got rid of that little issue. He took him to somewhere clean.

Once he assured the other man wasn’t breathing, he dropped the weapon on the floor, making a loud metallic thud.

19:10

Tate was pinning you down on the couch, the same couch where your dead friend was sitting just an hour ago.

His hands were traveling all along your body, tracing sweet patterns on your skin.

Eventually, his fingers were clumsily pulling down your panties, not minding to take off your skirt. “Did you bring this for easy access, baby?” Tate chuckled and buried his face between your legs, holding your thighs in place; his lips plastered messy kisses over the warm flesh, biting it and leaving tiny marks after sucking.

Your reaction was alluring to him; he enjoyed listening to your pleas, to your whimpers. If it was for him, he would spend the entire day making you cum over and over again.

He finally got rid of your underwear, tossing it aside. Without further ado, the boy spread your folds with his large digits, and continued to lick your throbbing wet cunt.

“So fucking pretty… So wet for me, huh?”

His tongue lapped your small clit two or three times, then, traced a zigzag and circles on the sensitive nub. While he devoured you, he inserted his middle and ring finger, pumping them in and out of your cute hole, curling them and hitting the right spot to make you feel butterflies.

Tate could feel his arousal growing; his erection being restrained by the tight fabric of his jeans. He was desperate, yeah. But he always put you in the first place, and that included pleasuring you before him.

After a while, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, fucking your pussy with the agile muscle and now rubbing your clit with his thumb, applying pressure that sent electric waves through your body. He stopped using his tongue on you and instead looked at that stunning face of yours. He was delighted with your flushed cheeks, with every single gesture you did, with the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture of you to remember this moment forever.

His thumb increased the pace, while his free hand lifted up your blouse and tried to undo your bra. He couldn’t. You giggled when he groaned in frustration; he was too horny to think straight and that’s why you helped him to take off the garment.

Tate sighed and after that awkward and funny moment, he kept rubbing your bud, using your own juices and his saliva as a lubricant, intensifying the sensation. His left pinched and pulled your nipple, making you gasp and twitch beneath him, whilst his mouth abused your other one, greedily sucking on it.

“Tate, ‘m gonna cum! I-”

Tate cut you off by kissing you harshly; his tongue invading your warm mouth, exploring it and then nibbling your bottom lip until it bleeded. He licked the tiny drops of blood, savoring the metallic taste of it.

Unable to hold on any longer, you reached your orgasm, coming undone while Tate kept caressing your pussy, decreasing the velocity while you finally calmed down.

He left you panting; your heart beating so fast just like his.

You tried to sit up on the couch, breathing deep for more air, but the blond prevented you from going away.

“Where do you think you’re doing? We’re not done yet, you’re gonna cum again!”

Tate carried you bridal style and went upstairs straight to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed.

Without stopping looking at you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans along the boxers; his dick already erect and throbbing, the veins thick and the tip leaking precum.

Using the clear liquid as lube, he stroked his shaft for a while, jerking off to the sight of you. He groaned and whimpered, closing his eyes as his hand pumped himself.

One of your hands went to your breasts, massaging them softly as your right went down between your legs, slowly teasing your womanhood and coating your index finger with your arousal, using it to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

Tate’s dark room was now filled with both of your moans; Tate calling your name several times and you begging him to fuck you.

He couldn’t stand this anymore. He NEEDED to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him. “On all fours. Now.” You immediately obeyed, feeling as eager as him.

“Look at me, mhm?” He positioned behind you and rubbed the tip against your wet folds, teasing you for a bit. Afterwards, he slowly entered his cock inside your slit, moving it slowly at first. His thumb went to your clitoris, toying with it just like minutes before. He picked up the pace and fucked you fast and hard; his cockhead brushing your cervix. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Tate pulled your head towards him, still with the deep thrusting.  “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so pretty… So fucking precious, so fucking mine!” Moaned against your ear, voice raspy and agitated.

Panting, you stopped looking at him and instead looked to the bed. Why? Who knows, but you did it. And you saw Tate’s dirty clothes. Dirty with blood. A lot of blood.

You froze. Maybe it was red paint? 

“U-uh, Tate?” You muttered, feeling already bewildered by the sight. You tried not to jump into conclusions, although you knew Tate and he has always been… Secretive.. And aggressive, of course. 

After your boyfriend heard your shaky whisper, he stopped moving, even if he wanted to keep going. “Hm?”

“What’s this?” Tate sighed and pulled out from you, not understanding what you meant. 

“What’s what?”

Without saying anything else to him, you grabbed the shirt and touched the weird stain. It was still fresh. You took your fingers to your mouth to taste it; and the metallic tang was too obvious. “Tate, what the fuck is this!?”

You threw it at him. Freaked out, you stood up and picked up your clothes, putting them on again, all meanwhile Tate connected the dots and realized he was probably going to get caught.

“Wait, Y/N! It’s not what it looks like, I swear, damn it!” He yelled and grabbed your arm, not wanting you to leave like this. He had to save his reputation, he couldn’t let you think bad of him even if you had all the right. Because, why the fuck the fabric was soaked in blood?

“Then what is it, Tate? WHY DOES IT HAVE SO MUCH BLOOD!?”

“CALM DOWN, PLEASE!” 

You attempted to get away from his grip, struggling with him until, somehow, you managed to do so. However, you tripped with his dirty shoes and fell, realizing they were also stained with the red liquid. “Tate, what…? Why? What is this?”

“Nothing, I swear!” He didn’t have any excuses. Saying it was paint would’ve been lame. You were too smart and he knew lying wasn’t a good choice.

Feeling overwhelmed with the matter, you went downstairs, walking as fast as you could. Passing through the living room, a very familiar bag caught your eye. It was definitely Peter’s. You decided to grab it and realized it had his phone inside. Something was off.

Tate was standing behind you; fists clenched and heart beating like crazy. He tried to approach you, still thinking about what to do or what to say. 

“Tate… What is this doing here? Peter’s here?” 

“Huh? Yeah… He— He came earlier and had to go soon, he left this accidentally, yup…” You could see him fidgeting with that ring on his finger, again. 

“Bullshit!”

Tate scowled and grabbed your chin, making you look at his dark orbs. “Tell me, Y/N, do you trust me or not, huh? Look me in the eyes and say you don’t!”

The struggle continued for what seemed eternity. You trying to run away from the house and he trying to make you stay. “Please, Y/N, just listen to me!”

“You did something to him, right? I know him, Tate! He would NEVER leave his phone like this! Is this a joke?”

“Why do you care so much about that asshole!? What has he done for you!? Tell me!”

“Oh my, you’re jealous! I knew it! All that crap about being his friend was a lie, right? Tate, you’re being delusional! I can have friends, I can hang out with whoever I want, whether you like it or not!” 

Tate pressed your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, squeezing the flesh with his veiny, big hand, pressing it tightly enough to leave the mark of his long digits on it.

“You can’t! You’re mine. Only mine. Since the day you were born you were meant to be mine. Not his, not anybody, just me.”

“Tate… We should end this…” You thought this was the best for both. Being in a relationship with him was draining; always being careful to not hurt him, make him jealous or mad. He was such a sensitive boy that always took everything too personally. He felt everything a little too much.

Since the beginning you knew he was unstable and that he had many issues, but you tried to see beyond his sick mind, you tried to understand him despite being so different.

Tate felt so safe with you. You were the only person who understood him, or at least made attempts to. 

He felt rejected by the entire society, even by his own mother, until he met you and he had a minimum spark of hope that the world didn’t suck that much.

That’s why he clung to you. That’s why you were his everything. He would lose his mind if you leave him.

He felt like dying when he heard you wanted to finish the relationship.

He couldn’t breathe. 

Some tears were now falling to the floor, his eyes puffy and an ugly frown on his face. His mouth twisted as he sobbed loudly, tugging the hem of your shirt while he begged you to stay. He was crying like a newborn, like a baby who had to be apart from his mother for a second.

“No no no no, you can’t do this to me!” He whimpered, his speech cracking as he tried to hold you close whilst you were stepping back. You were slipping through his fingers, you were leaving him.

“Tate, if something happened to Peter, I will never forgive you! Can’t you see you’re hurting me?”

Tate swore he would never hurt you, nor let anyone. But here he was, finally snapping out of it and seeing the cruel truth. 

“You’ve been hurting me the whole time, Tate! I tried to understand you, I really did, I tried to help you, to save you from yourself! But it’s impossible. I’m losing myself here with you, I don’t even know who I am anymore! You don’t want help, do you? ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what I do, you’re never satisfied! You suffocate me!”

All those words were like daggers penetrating his skin, touching his nerves and making him die of pain. You were tearing him apart, just the way he was destroying you.

He finally let go of you, feeling a tornado of emotions. Tate felt depressed, mad, resentful, like he was going crazy. Though, he knew he had to leave if that’s what you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to break another promise.

Thereby, he confessed his crimes to you. He explained he killed his mom’s partner a few days ago, and that now he had killed your friend. Why? He was jealous, he was scared you’d left him. You did it before you discovered the cruel reality, anyways. That’s why he told you. Because he couldn’t lose anything else.

The situation was utterly disgusting. Tate was sick. He murdered an innocent man and then proceeded to fuck you, as it was the maximum test of love, as if his life meant nothing.

You knew he wasn’t what people often considered “normal”. But this was definitely more than just being a “weirdo”. Tate needed psychiatric help… And being arrested, of course.

“You make me wanna puke, Tate! You’re the evil!”

Without hesitating, you left Tate behind, running as fast as you could from that living hell.

You just wanted to cry, curl up into a ball and wake up from this nightmare. You wished it was merely a bad dream.

Tomorrow morning, you’d go to the police, but for now you needed to sleep.

Monday morning, 11:05

You couldn’t sleep all night. You spent hours thinking about everything, about how this looked like a cruel joke to you. Eventually, you fell asleep at 4AM, and didn’t wake up at what seemed almost midday. 

An intense sound of police sirens woke you from your slumber. Startled by the loud noise, you rubbed your eyes and went to the window, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Police cars and SWAT vans were going in a specific direction… Towards Tate’s street. It couldn’t be, right?

Did his mother find the corpse? Or perhaps something else?

You looked at the clock, realizing it was late and you had to go to class. 

08:00

After the most painful night of his life, Tate decided today everything would be over.

He had to cleanse the world… To take people to somewhere else, to some place full of peace away from the piss and the vomit that runs down the streets.

He was doing this not only because of your breakup, but also because of many other reasons. Your split up was the straw that broke the camel and drove him to the edge.

10:40

 After shooting the school, Tate left the place, looking unfazed about what he just did. He was unhinged. 

He peacefully got into his place, went to his room and stayed there for some minutes. 

The blond sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the gun right next to him and stared at nothing. His gaze was empty, but also there were some tears threatening to spill.

His mind was a whirlwind. Some part of him was satisfied, but the other was confused, wondering what was he thinking, what had he done?

What would you think of him now? Were you even there? Did he kill you too and he didn’t even notice?

In the end, he recognized he indeed was the evil you said. Damn it. You were right, again, as ever.

Tate wanted to hear your voice, to comfort him, to hear you saying everything was okay. That he’d be okay. He desired to hear “I love you” from you once more.

11:15

You went downstairs to find your family apparently mourning you.

They thought you were at school when the shooting happened. They believed you were gone, but here you were. 

Eventually, they explained to you what happened.

The first thing that popped into your mind was Tate’s wellbeing, still unaware that he was the culprit. You were afraid something terrible could’ve happened to him, you were regretting your last words to him, but you also had to get him prisoner.

Your heart dropped when they explained to you he was the shooter.

No, it couldn’t be possible. 

It was possible. After all, he had already killed two men.

Even if you despise what he did, some part of you still longed for him, still was in love with his once kind heart.

A terrifying feeling of dread filled your body, making you feel numb, as if none of this was real… 

11:25

After running to Tate’s house and seeing it surrounded by the cops and the SWAT team, everything stopped. Constance’s distressed cries and pleas were heard from outside, followed suit by the sound of bullets. It was over now.

Tate was certainly a troubled individual who dedicated his entire life to searching for something, to feel something, to feel loved.

All he asked for was love, to be loved, to love. All he wanted was you.

But at the same time, your love led him to an never-ending obsession that ultimately broke both of you.

He became your biggest regret.

All he feared, all his nightmares came true. Everything he was so afraid of was him and only himself. 

[nouearth]

a business trip.

john wick x male reader.

warnings: smut, alcohol, blowjob (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, rough!sex, breeding, unprotected!sex, top!johnwick, bottom!reader.

request.

the soft tune of jazz—a sonata that you were never particularly fond of—became comforting in your solitude. though a piano was absent, hidden stereos were more than adequate as you gathered the ambiance would’ve been more or less the same if a pianist had performed. 

in the sleepy hours of the continental hotel, patrons of the lounge kept their conversations low, indescribable murmurs to your ears as you sipped on your drink—warm and smooth down your throat. 

the time on your phone flicked to midnight, and day two commenced. you came on a business trip. if you could, you would’ve rejected the offer to come to new york, especially when it took away time from your dog. but the rascal was spoiled, and that unfortunately meant you had to step out of your home office once in a while—all to keep her spoiled. 

but who ever said you couldn’t have a little fun during your trip?

the seats at the bar were unoccupied except for yours. clients preferred sitting in something that supported their back, you presumed, but that didn’t stop a gentleman from taking a seat next to you.

oh, wow. maybe the lady was right… this cologne is a dick magnet.

unbeknownst to you, his favorite seat was occupied and he was petty—though only slight, because a strong drink to incinerate his stress was his main priority. 

“bourbon whiskey,” the gentleman glanced at you, dried blood and cuts lanterned under the muted lights, but his black hair succeeded in shadowing. “please.”

the man didn’t seem phased by the injuries—a nonchalant attitude he maintained—but you were nonetheless surprised. speechless as no one, not even the bartender, seemed to have minded his wounds, the blood stained on his dress shirt, and the purple bruise beating on his cheekbone.

it was… strange.

“uh...” you cleared your throat, directing the sound towards the man to get his attention. he looked, clearly want to be left alone as he kept his gaze front. “sorry, i just… uh… should i be worried about that?”

though he didn’t seem to recognize you, the stranger was hesitant to answer, taking more than a few beats before speaking, low and gritty. “no, just… got robbed.”

“oh, shit, seriously?” you reached for you phone and turned the screen on. ”then, I think we should call-“ before you could take the process to another step, a gentle grasp latched around your wrist, stopping you.

“that’s very kind of you, but i’m fine.” he finally turned to you, a reassuring gaze pierced to your worry before letting go and looking front again.

handsome, even when he’s all beat up. focus, that was not the priority right now.

“dude, you’re bleeding.” remnants of warmth escaped your wrist, but his calloused fingers remained in memory. “you could have a concussion or something.”

“maybe,” the man took a sip of his drink, a simper to his face when it was concluded that you were evidently not from his world. “seemed fine as i walked the way here though.”

“jesus,” you couldn’t pick apart between fact or fiction, especially from a stranger, but he had no reason to lie. you took another sip, watching him and accepting his truth. “did you manage to get a hit on them, at least?”

you missed it, but the man glanced down at the red stain on his dress shirt, small and ruby-ed against the white fabric before taking a sip again. “something like that.”

“hm... i guess i know who to call for a bodyguard when i’m in the city again, then.” the ice between the two of you was slowly melting, puddles of it spreading when you two shared a chuckle. “(m/n), by the way.”

“john.” you can put a name to his face now, and it was fitting. mysterious and aloof, but never intimidating because there was a warmth inside of him that just needed a reason to come out. “never seen you here before, first time?”

“kind of?” by now, the drink has caught up to you and you felt a little more confident, turning your body towards him. “i mean, i’ve been to new york before—just not this hotel. i’m here for work.”

“i see,” when you faced towards him, john never meant to do a double-take. several glances were hidden in between the constant motion of drinking, the heat relieving john’s body whenever he took a sip—he likened it to medicine. “enjoying your stay then?”

but the more john looked at you, warmth began to rise instead. it eventually settled on his chest, neck, and cheeks to his dismay and it does not intent to wear off, no matter how many sips he took in greatest efforts to push it down—in a void somewhere, where he believed his feelings deserved to be buried.

“it could be better.” alcohol was a powerful drug, because you were one-hundred percent sure that the chance of you flirting without a drink would’ve been close to zero.

it came out of nowhere—this feeling. fleeting or not, your pants tightened and you needed a release. if it wasn’t him, then it was going to be someone else. and if you really couldn’t get laid, you’d be content with dry-humping a pillow.

you’ve seen it in the movies before—well, usually from a women—but it should be universally accepted, right? confidence was sexy: show some skin, make your intentions clear, and handle rejection like a real class act. 

worst he could do is say no…

“I don’t mean to be crass, but,” you tugged on your necktie, loosening it around the collar, and unbuttoned only the top two buttons. a slight breeze ghosted your neck as it radiated and yearned for lust—kindled further when you downed another drink, a last stop for encouragement, but also a device to handle rejection all at once. “do you want to fuck?”

john watched you stone-faced, but there was clear interest in his eyes—you watched it spread across his dark orbs. 

it was telling that you both needed something—a release: you with work and him with being mugged, apparently. your fingers tapped on the counter, impatient for an answer. 

after a smooth swig of his drink, john got up and beckoned to you with a small smile. “come on.”

as soon as the door shut, you were backed into it with considerable force—not a single second to spare. you held onto john in blind support, groping at his broad back and hips while john’s needy palms worked at your ass, squeezing tight to aid the erection in his pants.

“fuck.” pressure applied to your clothed bulge as john pressed his hips against you, rutting in irregular rhythms conducted by pure lust, and you desperately returned them, needier as you rubbed into his thigh. your moans caught between his lips when the pair found themselves on you, kissing you with the utmost passion—poisonous, because it stole your breath away. 

“i could come just like this.” you spared enough oxygen to breathe out, but later found it swallowed when john kissed you again, eagerly licking the inside of your mouth. his tongue was sloppy, mixing the sweetness of your drink with the burn of his to form an entirely new recipe that only the two of you would share. 

complete darkness filled your sight while your neck was then bombarded with rough kisses, only broken when john unwillingly tore himself from your skin to strip himself. it was a tedious process because he was greedy, returning back to your neck and lips whenever a piece of clothing was thrown to the corner of the room.

but you were impatient, as was he, and knew things would never progress if he was submitted under the smell and soft touch of your skin. so you playfully pushed him, squeezing his chest in midst, and constantly knocking him back to his amusement while the glow of the moon became your guide to the bed.

“keep that up,” john held you by the waist again, applying his bare body to your clothed figure, half-undressed with your trousers and shirt left, as you felt his beard against your skin. a gentle brush tickled you, but his darkened, low voice sent goosebumps. “and we won’t make it to the bed.”

“hm.” a hum vibrated in your throat while he kissed your neck again, suckled at his favorite area because he could feel your cock throb against him, desperate to be freed from the fabric. 

you watched him in the moonlight as john began undoing your clothes, leaving a wake of hot kisses down your body the more you unveiled before him—cold, but john’s mouth made up for it as it wrapped around you like a warm glove. no warning whatsoever, but you preferred that, shuddering when he worshipped your body like a knight to a prince; calmed caresses to your calves while he polished your cock with godly licks. 

john’s fingers spidered up your legs and his palm found its way to your ass again, spanking one cheek hard enough for you to suddenly thrust your cock into his mouth and down his warm throat. “oh, fuck-“ 

he moaned around you, vibrations riding your thick veins as it would take a electrifying trip up north until you moaned, pleaded with him to be fucked—to no avail, simply because he was stubborn. 

briefly, john let you go with a slimy pop to stroke you, standing back up to kiss you in midst. you tasted yourself, the saltiness of your pre-cum lining your taste-buds as his tongue ran over yours in a wet and sloppy affair. “god, you taste so good…”

simultaneously, your hand worked at his cock, under-handing the weight of it with slow strokes—to the intimate arousal of your sluggish tongues moving with one another. it wouldn’t be long until you found yourself pressing into him again, gliding your wet cock against his, spreading and sharing john’s thick saliva between the two muscles.

your lips never his, neither did your hand on his cock—both of your cocks now, clumsily stroking—even when john began to prod at your hole with his finger, lubed up seconds before, teasing. only then, you pulled away when his finger slid into you with careful ease, and you flushed forward.

he embraced you with one arm around your body, holding you still while he worked you open, curling inside of you deeper with quickening intervals. you could practically come undone from this, but you refrained from doing so, distracting yourself with kisses to john’s chest, then his nipples, sucking hard to counter the overwhelming pleasure.

but he had the upper hand on you, only realizing when you immediately flexed around him when he pushed into you with another finger—slight difficulty, and so he worked you open once again. though, it doesn’t last long because he wanted to feel the tight stretch you’d provide for him—a heavenly need you’d happily supply. 

without any guidance, you bent over the bed and pushed your hips out, and he held you close. you laid there bare before him, looking back completely vulnerable while john toyed with you, taunting your arousal as he slid his cock in between your ass cheeks, wet and sticky from the lube. 

“come on…” you almost whined out into the sheets, refraining yourself from wiggling your hips. 

his silhouette didn’t budge and he only agitated your impatience even further by tracing your pucker with the plump tip of his cock, slow and teasing with a smirk you could hear. “you want me that bad?”

“fuck,” you were never one to admit things easily, and this wasn’t going to be the start of it. equally as stubborn as john was, you groaned into bed again and used your core to push back at his taunts. you began reaching back amid his continuing tease to grab ahold of his length. “if you’re not going to fuck me, then i’m going to-“

john’s reflexes were fast. as soon as you wrapped your hand around him, he pinned you further into the bed with a firm shove to your back. your chest stung when it rubbed harsh against the sheets and you immediately let go, lying pliant under his force. “you’re going to what?”

you struggled to move—to escape from his hold—but he was stronger in every way possible. every struggle was met with an ache to your body as he barely used a fourth of his strength to hold you down.

and your cock couldn’t have gotten harder.

“I’m going to-“ before you could respond, your throat dried up as john pushed himself inside of you with one slow yet rugged thrust, pushing heat back in, and filling your hole up with more. “f-fuck!” every muscle in your body tensed and you shouted out, almost a whimper.

his cock was thick inside of you. you can feel every pulse, every vein as he worked himself into you, back and forth with deep and slow thrusts, painfully stretching you out. it knocked the breath out of you and your legs wobbled, feeling your current stance weakening as your toes curled into the floor, desperately clinging onto the arrival of your soreness.

but you loved it. you loved how barely prepped you were because you can feel every inch of him reaching deep inside and violating your hole with the uttermost disrespect. he held your wrists together, your arms back and your chest pushed forward while your cock rubbed against the bed, and fucked into you—faster, harder. “look at you, fuck. you take cock like it’s nothing, hm?“

“m-mmm!” you whimpered out in response, your breath hitching as he repeatedly slammed his hips into you, continuously knocking any thought out of you. the painful pleasure was dizzying, finding solace in muffling your moans into the covers. your breath warmed your cheeks as you rocked into the bed from impact, gliding your cock in between the bed and your pelvis along. 

there was an ache in your shoulders, in your arms, in your wrists, but john’s cock overpowered every feeling to the point where they became numb. all there was left was john’s rapture and you basked in it. the heaviness of the sex-filled air, the humidity of your bodies when john decided to push his all of his weight onto you and fuck you like you were nothing but a void, the warmth of his breath when he kissed your shoulder and neck, and the sting when he bit.

overwhelming was an understatement of your current state of euphoria. you took him in and overloaded yourself into his pleasure. every thrust, every breath was submerged into you, compelled to mirror even a fraction of the pleasure john felt, and it was only when his cock drove into your prostate with unbeatable force that you did—tenfold.

“oh, fuck! don’t stop,” you cried out, desperate in pushing back against him because you never knew if john would pull away anytime soon. “fuck me just like that, fuck!”

and he doesn’t. john was a man of promise and he delivered your pleas with force and speed, letting go your wrists to spread your cheeks apart and watch you be fucked open with his thick cock, growing more swollen with every passing second. you can feel his balls following his thrusts, swinging against your sweaty skin and creating the most delectable sounds. “like that, yeah? you like my cock, just like that?”

“f-fuck, yes!”

in this moment, you were his, under his control, and selfishly captured when john devastated your prostate with one more powerful thrust to your demands, and you found the stars. they resided in the back of your eyelids as you came—thick and heavy—in between the sheets and your twitching body. 

it wouldn’t be long until john joined you in your trip to heaven, his grasp on your hips hard and bruising as he yanked you back and met your ass to his cock one last time in uniting your body with his. 

warmth began to fill you as john came undone, shooting deep inside of you. his hips slowed, but never came to a stop as you clenched around him, tight and yearning for his seed, and with that, he milked himself inside of you, giving you all of him and what was left of him—creamy and thick. 

his breath was heavy in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back, and you groaned, coming down from the high that you just experienced. sleep approached for the both of you, but he maintained the steadiness of his hips, spreading his load in you as if he was marking his territory.

“so... how long until you’re leaving?”

“mmmph, four more days….”

"good."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[thegaysinmyhead]

Obsession PT 2

Danny was freaking the fuck out. Considering he spent the last few weeks in a lab being picked, prodded, and vivisected, he feels like he deserves a little bit of a freakout. But trauma-related things aside, Danny was freaking out over this hot-as-hell baddie who saved him. Like, holy shit! This guy’s biceps were bigger than his head, and he would really really like to have his head placed between those thighs.

Holy fuck. His knight in shining red armor was going to fully kill him for how fucking sexy he was. That gruff voice? The tight muscle shirt? The beautiful cheekbones hidden slightly under his mask? Danny was going to die a second death and he wasn’t even going to complain, not if it was this guy doing it.

Danny was thirsting so hard he almost missed what the man was saying.

“–Red Hood. Answer my first question, why do the Pits react to you,”

Red Hood? The Red Hood? Ancients, Sam was going to froth at the mouth when he tells her that Red Hood saved him and was hot as fuck.

“I don’t know what ‘the Pits’ are, dude. The only thing that reacts like that to ectoplasm is more ectoplasm, and that’s the only thing that’s reacting to me. You’re like, constantly angry,” Danny grimaced at the fresh wave of hot rage.

Damn, he wishes there was more reacting to him.

“The Pits. Lazarus Water. The green shit you got all over the floor and my fucking hands when I carried you here,” The vigilante (crime lord?) growled.

Fuck that growl is hot. He wants Red Hood to growl like that in his ear, wants to know what he sounds like when those growls break into whimpers, wants to taste that growl–

“That’s ectoplasm, kinda makes up my whole body in this form so it’s not like I choose to bleed it. Trust me, I’d bleed regular blood if I could. Blood stains are so much easier to get out of my clothes,”

Danny could tell Red Hood was glaring at him underneath his domino, and he was gonna have a problem in his pants if the other man didn’t turn away soon. 

“Why. Do. The. Pits. React. To. You,” The vigilante growled out slowly, teeth clicking together in what sounded almost painful. Danny had no idea what he was supposed to say. The man in front of him had obviously died before and came back, but the ectoplasm felt more like a contaminated blob than a full ghost. He couldn’t even see the ghost core underneath all the gunk, even if he could feel it. Red Hood’s core felt…just as angry as when Danny felt it earlier.

How do you give Ghost Biology 101 to a pissed-off guy with a gun who probably had death-related trauma?

“So…I’m just gonna be as blunt as possible and hope you don’t shoot me,”

Red Hood glared harder, his core thrumming ANGER-CONFUSION-ANGER as Danny flipped to sit cross-legged above the couch. He pinched his face together to think about the best place to start, but realized the worst part should probably get put out of the way first. He did say he was going to be as blunt as possible.

“So, you died—” Almost as quick as he said it there was a bullet grazing through his shoulder and embedding into the wall behind him. Thank fuck for intangibility. The crime lord’s core thrummed louder, a garbled mimic of a ghost growl as green blinked behind red lenses.

“Yeah, I know how you feel man. Dying really, really sucks,” Danny murmured before lowering fully onto the couch. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“–But, that’s probably the start of what I need to tell you, unless you’ve come in contact with glowing green water beforehand?” 

The vigilante grit his teeth, but shook his head no.

“Right, so. You died–and I’m not gonna ask or make assumptions about it! I get it. But, when you got pulled from wherever you were before…you didn’t exactly…come back all the way,” He finished his sentence with a murmur, but the silence of the apartment made sure it was heard easily. A deep frown etched itself onto Red Hood’s face.

“Come back all the way? What kind of bullshit is that? You’re dead or you’re not, even I’ve met ghosts and shit that proves that,” 

Red Hood’s met ghosts? Hopefully none from the Ghost Zone, they’d probably tear him to pieces in a ghost brawl with how weak his ectoplasm is. Might make this explanation easier though.

Danny wrung his hands together before shrugging awkwardly, “Not…exactly? Death is more of a spectrum than a black-and-white kinda thing. You can lean towards one side or the other, sometimes being fully on one side, but it’s supposed to be impossible to sit on both at the same time. That’s…kinda where I come in?”

The halfa shifted while looking anywhere but the crime boss in front of him, lips tucked into a silent whistle as his core hummed anxiously. Danny could tell Red Hood was getting impatient, but he didn’t expect to have to show a solid 12/10 hot piece of ass his human form right after getting away from a GIW base! Sue him, he needs a minute!

With a groan, Danny flung himself into a stand. He rubbed a hand down his face while chanting “Please don’t be naked, please don’t be naked,”

A bright light filled the room before Red Hood could react or question the mumbling, and when the light finally faded he blinked rapidly to get rid of black spots. In the place Danny stood moments before was an individual with black hair, blue eyes, and very very tattered clothing. The cloth (if it could even be called that at this point) looked as if it used to be a NASA hoodie and black jeans, and duct-taped red sneakers sat on the new man’s feet. Blood stains were covering most of the fabric, and the man sheepishly scratched the back of his head. A bright red blush was spreading across his cheeks to slightly pointed ears.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot the last time I was in this form. At least I’m not naked?” The new man (Danny?) said with a small smile.

“Wait, wait, wait–” Jason raised his hands in a stopping motion with a shake of his head, “–what the fuck do you mean ‘this form’?”

(Supposedly) Danny just tilted his head before placing his hands on his hips. He tipped his head up and pursed his lips in thought, “Well, that was technically my ghost form before? This is my human form… and oh jeez, I feel like I skipped like a hundred slides of the Ghost Biology PowerPoint,” Danny mumbled while hiding his face between his hands.

Jason slid a still-clawed hand over his eyes, frustration building, but surprisingly no green was threatening his vision. Small mercies, “Ghost? So, you’re a ghost?” he questioned slowly.

“Only half ghost…”

Jason took a deep breath and deadpanned, “How the fuck can you be ‘half ghost’,”

Danny looked like he swallowed a lemon as he went silent. There seemed to be a silent debate going on in the man's head as the thing in Jason’s chest rumbled with RAGE-FRUSTRATION-WORRY. Danny seemed to come to a decision as he finally spoke.

“Well…same way you did? Kind of a Schrödinger cat situation. Do you really not notice anything ghostly that you do? Like–hiding better than you ever did before, shadows clinging to you in ways that seem unnatural, attacks on you not hitting their mark even though you know they should have?”

Jason paused, shoulders tightening with tension. He never really thought about it, but those words stirred something in his brain. Bullets that should’ve definitely hit him dead on were usually explained away with the distance between him and the gun shooting at him, but the times he was barely holding onto a hiding spot and wondering how the hell he wasn’t caught? The warm embrace of Gotham at night when shadows were everywhere and he was swinging and jumping through rooftops? Jumps no normal human would’ve been able to make unless they were a meta? 

He knew the Pit had changed him; his eyes glowed green when he felt emotions too strong, his body filled out with more muscle than he knew what to do with, and he was straining the edge between trained strength and superhuman. Now…now he isn’t really sure what the Pits did to him…

“–And if I say I have? Noticed… ‘ghostly’ things I do?”

The black-haired man just gave him a bright smile, “Well, then that probably just makes it easier to accept what comes next,”

“What comes next?” Jason blinked.

“Yeah. Because, again, sir, your ectoplasm is rancid. Disgustingly rancid. I’m filtering as much of it as I can, but you need a doctor like yesterday,”

Jason could feel the frustration growing again. This guy just did not know how to give good explanations, “What do you mean you’re ‘filtering’ it?” He said through gritted teeth. His jaw suddenly felt like it was too small for his molars, and his gums burned worse than when his wisdom teeth needed to get removed. Danny just waved off his building anger.

“Exactly that, dude. I’m pulling the toxic stuff into me and pushing the cleaner stuff back to you. It’s not pure ectoplasm, we’d probably need to go to the Ghost Zone for that, but you should feel a whole lot better than you did before,”

And Jason…Jason did actually feel a whole lot better. There wasn’t an angry voice whispering in the back of his mind that he needed to spill blood, and he wasn’t fighting off an indescribable rage with every ounce of his willpower. He felt better than the best days of dealing with the Pit and then some. But what the fuck was a ‘Ghost Zone’? Danny must’ve seen the confusion from his frown because he was speaking again.

“–Shit, I’m really bad at explaining things, sorry. The Ghost Zone is basically where most ghosts, or ‘ecto-plasmic beings’ depending on who you ask, live–and usually–stay. The atmosphere is pretty much pure ectoplasm because everything there is made of ectoplasm. Like how everything alive here is made of carbon,” Danny waved his arms around awkwardly as he spoke, back squished tightly against the cushions of the couch. His fists were clenched white with nerves.

Jason nodded. That made sense…kind of. He was still wrapping his head around the whole ‘half-ghost’ thing, honestly. He was also wondering how the fuck that was possible and why this guy thinks he’s one.

“You said I’m like you?” 

Danny nodded, before thinking for a moment and shrugging, “Not exactly. I can tell whatever you went through never let you finish forming a core, but if your core does fully develop you’ll end up with ghost powers, probably. You’d also be able to actually filter the ectoplasm in your system, which means you won’t have to deal with all that junk,” he said while waving a vague fully-encompassing hand motion at him.

Jason squinted his eyes at Danny from behind his mask, but he couldn’t detect a single lie from the man. After a long moment, he sighed and slumped back in the recliner. He covered his face with one of his hands and murmured, “–And what’s a core?”

Danny froze before blushing and looking away in embarrassment. Jason doesn’t know how he knows Danny’s embarrassed.

“I’m…I’m just gonna pull up the Ghost Biology presentation. You got a laptop?”

Pt 1, Pt 3

Masterpost

[lilyjeong]

flamin’ hot lemon

Jaehyun stares at you walking and laughing with johnny. You’re smiling at whatever dumb stuff he said while laughing uncontrollably. johnny can’t be that funny right?

Jaehyun met you two weeks ago at johnnys birthday party. Johnny mentioned that you and him have been best friends since childhood.

————————————————————

2 weeks ago-

“wait y/n i’ll come back”

“No john i don’t know anyone here!! i’m gonna look like a loner” you pull his arm hoping he doesn’t leave you all alone in the kitchen counter

“y/n its my birthday and my friends are here”

you pout

“okay fine how about” johnny looks around and finally lays on jaehyun who’s drinking while leaning on the wall

“look come” he pulls you quickly in jaehyuns direction. you guys finally arrive and jaehyun looks at johnny then to you with a confused expression

“hey?”

“hey jaehyun look this is my best friend y/n” he signals to you and you smile awkwardly to the handsome guy you just met who’s standing there surprised

“y/n this is jaehyun my best friend!” johnny says with a joking tone

jaehyun returns the awkward smile to you

“okay now i’m gonna go while you guys get to know each other. bye bye!”

johnny speeds off to the who can drink more contest between doyoung and taeyong

both you and jaehyun stand there awkwardly not saying anything

you finally decide to break the ice

“well that was weird”

jaehyun chuckles

“tell me about it”

“he always does this, thinks without thinking”

“you mean acts without thinking?” jaehyun raises an eyebrow at you

“yeah! that’s what i meant” you say trying not to seem embarrassed he lets out a soft laugh that sounds so attractive

“well in your defense he also does that” you both laugh talking about johnny. but eventually the johnny conversation ended and you guys ended up talking about each other

jaehyun didn’t know what was happening to him but he really enjoyed talking to you. he didn’t want to stop he did think that you were pretty and the way you talked had him mesmerized

when he went to bed that night he couldn’t stop thinking about you

he decided to search you up on instagram. Your face started to pop up. different posts of yourself and your life. he was scrolling and smiling so hard it felt as if his dimples were about to pop out he was so immersed in your photos that he didn’t realize the door open

“who has you smiling that hard?” yuta came in and teased him

“what?” jaehyun immediately felt embarrassed. his best friend just caught him being all smiley at his phone “no one!” jaehyun put his phone down quickly

“oooo someone has a crush”

jaehyun threw a pillow at yuta

he layed back down

a crush? does he really have a crush on you?

————————————————————————————

After you’re walk with johnny he invited you into the dorm

jaehyun was in the kitchen shirtless cooking something that smelled delicious while humming

“yo dude put some clothes on” johnny threw him a random white shirt he found in the couch

jaehyun turned around and made eye contact with you. his ears immediately turned red and he quickly put the shirt on

you were wearing a white short shirt with some tight denim jeans

“y/n..hey”

“hi jaehyun” you smiled at him

“come on y/n let’s play mario kart” johnny went to the living room

you followed johnny and walked back to the living room

jaehyuns eyes followed you as he checked you out, your ass looked amazing in that denim. he felt a familiar tightness in his pants as he saw the way you leaned behind the coach giving him a perfect view of how well the denim hugged your ass

he ran into his room and immediately jumped on his bed pulling his pants down to reveal his aching cock begging to be touched

he replayed the images of you in his head while stroking it lightly. you were so fine and he guessed you were out of his league

as he remembered the way you were walking in those jeans his hand started to speed up

“fuck..y/n”

he didn’t even meant to say your name but he liked how good it sounded, wondering how his name will sound coming out of your pretty mouth

“y/n-“

“hey jaehyun johnny left and-“

you opened the door to find jaehyun stroking himself while saying your name. he quickly sat up and his eyes widened

“fuck y/n what?”

“i-

you were speechless, you didn’t know what to say

“look i’m sorry i can expla-“

“were you… touching yourself while thinking about me?” you walked closer to jaehyuns bed closing the door behind you

“uh no? i mean well i-“

you climbed on the bed and sat on his lap one knee on each side

“tell me jaehyun what were you doing then?”

jaehyun gulped hard and looked into your eyes”

“i-“

“go ahead” you started to kiss his neck, jaehyun let out a soft groan at the feeling of your lips on his skin

“yeah..i was”

“hmm and did it help?” you started to unbutton his shirt and leave pecks on his toned chest

“yeah but- i would prefer if it were actually you and not my hand” you can tell how embarrassed jaehyun was but he was definitely not the shy guy you met anymore

“would you?” you sat up and started to unbutton your jeans

“no wait” he got on the floor and his hands roamed around your lower body, from your thighs to you ass

“don’t take these off” he kissed your jeans

you smiled at him and he finally got up to kiss your lips, it started as a soft kiss but he started going deeper into your mouth, your tongue touching his, saliva being exchanged. the kiss was now rough and needy

jaehyun started to undo your blows. he unclipped your bra with one arm and let it fall onto the ground

“fuck you’re perfect y/n”

he kissed your chest down to you left boob, he looked up at you and attached his mouth to it, sucking and licking it while playing with the other one using his hand

“jaehyun…”

“yes baby?”

he sat down on the edge of the bed and you straddled his lap. he kept on playing with your chest and you can feel yourself getting impatient down there

you started to grind on his thighs moving up towards his cock that was still aching from not being able to finish earlier

you couldn’t help but moan at the sensation that you were feeling through your jeans, you moved faster riding him out

“fuck” you were both moaning jaehyun feeling the denim fabric on his dick

“jaehyun i-im close”

“gosh me too baby”

you were both a moaning mess and after one last bounce you felt the pleasure rush over you. it went right through your jeans, a visible wet spot appearing quickly jaehyun moved up one last time before cumming on your jeans also making a mess on them

“aw these were my favorite jeans” you pouted playfully

“yeah they were mine too” he laughed

you were about to kiss him and throw him back to lay down until you heard johnny yelling your name

“fuck!”

you quickly got off looking around for tissue to try to clean your jeans. you were looking on the floor bending down giving jaehyun the perfect view once again

he let out a soft chuckle. you turned around and found him staring

“would you mind and help me find something to clean myself with?”

he laughed and got up. grabbing a box of tissues next to him and handing them to you

you tried to clean your jeans but it was no use instead you made it worst and it spread, making the ‘puddl more visible

johnnys voice was getting louder as he kept calling for you

“fuck!!”

“its okay they look good like that” jaehyun said in a teasing tone. you pushed him

“not funny” you walked out of his room and went to johnny

“oh hey y/n where were you? i was calling you for so long”

“sorry i was uhh-“

johnny pointed at your dirty jeans

“yo what happened there?”

“oh uh- i-i-“

before you could create an excuse which you were definitely not gonna come up with right now jaehyun can out his room with a pair of shorts

“here, sorry about spilling my cereal on you by the way”

you looked at him and took the shorts from him

“RIGHTTTT, your cereal! the milk! oh don’t worry its fine jaehyun thank you for the extra pair tho!”

“he spilled his cereal on you?” johnny asked looking at uou

“yeah i thought u had come back so i was gonna scare you but instead i scared jaehyun! causing his plate to tilt over and milk get over my jeans”

“ohhhh” johnny squatted down and touched the stain

your eyes widened and jaehyun chuckled

“i don’t know if that’ll come off”

your face was filled with disgust and you immediately backed away feeling bad

“umm- i-i should get going.. bye john!!”

you quickly ran out the door

————————————————————————

its been a couple of weeks and you and jaehyun have still been having sex on the low

you don’t know if it was because of how good he was or something but you did not want to let him go, and you couldn’t go a DAY without doing it with him, they were always quick rounds hiding from johnny or meeting up secretly and doing it crazy but never longer since you guys weren’t like that, once you guys were done you would put you’re clothes on and leave because what else would you do right?

it’s been a few days since you last saw him tho

johnny invited you to a movie night today so you were knocking on his door, to your surprise jaehyun opened, he was wearing a white tee with black jeans holding a bag of flamin hot cheetos. you smiled at him but he didn’t return the smile

instead he moved back and let you come in

you were confused but didn’t let it show since johnny was right there

“hey y/n”

“heyyy”

he was preparing popcorn in the kitchen and jaehyun came to put his bag away

“yo jae what are you gonna do right now”

“uh nothing why”

“why don’t you join us”

you’re eyes widened

“nah i’m fine”

“cmon jae it’ll be fun, plus you and y/n know each other right?”

oh trust me we know each other well. jaehyun didn’t really say anything and so did you

“okay! that’s great! cmon let’s go”

johnny led you both to the living room, you were in the middle of them both, jaehyun on one side and johnny on the other with a blanket on top of all of you, you couldn’t help but pay more attention to the way jaehyuns body was touching you. god something about him

johnny got up to go check on the popcorn

you and jaehyun continued to watch the movie, until you felt a hand on your thigh. you looked over to jaehyun who was pretending to focus on the movie. his hand kept on going upper, he spread your legs a bit and touched your clothes core. you gasped at the feeling of his fingers rubbing on you

he pushed your panties and slid his fingers in, you gasped louder at the sudden feeling. he started to thrust them in and out of you at a slow pace

you held his arm and tried to keep it quiet

“oh fuck” you whispered close to his ear

johnny came back but only stood in front of the tv so he can get the popcorn when its ready.

you tried to push jaehyuns fingers away since it was too risky getting caught by your friend but he wouldn’t move

“jaehyun wait”

“shhh” he kept on moving his fingers in and out of you. “don’t make a sound”

jaehyuns fingers had you rolling your eyes back and the huge risk of getting caught by your best friend made you get turned on even more

.jaehyuns pace quickened and his fingers were moving fast in and out of you. you tried your best not to make a sound but it was so hard

“i-im so close jaehyun-“ you whispered in his ear

he took it as a sign and moved his fingers faster and deeper in you, you couldnt hold back and you screamed when your high came rushing.

at the same time johnny also screamed

“that was so scary!” he was talking to the horror movie on the screen and then left to go check on the popcorn

you were heavily breathing and watched as jaehyun took his hand out of the blanket

he brought his fingers up to his lips and sucked on them

your mouth watered at the view of him sucking his fingers filled with your taste

you were gonna give him a quick kiss but he got up and walked towards his room

“yo jae where you goin?” johnny yelled as jaehyun passed by the kitchen to go to his room

“did you say something to him?” he looked at you confused

you were confused yourself

you and johnny kept on watching the movie till johnny eventually fell into a deep sleep, you took this opportunity and tiptoed yourself to jaehyuns room

the light was on and you knocked on the door lightly

“come in” jaehyuns voice was heard from inside. you opened the door and walked in

“hey” you said lightly going towards him

he looked at you and went back to scrolling on his phone

He hasn’t been paying attention to you these past weeks why? did you do something wrong?

he clearly wasn’t talking to you so you got on the bed touched his crotch. he let out a small gasp at your touch. you were untying his pajama pants and about to pull them down until he stopped you

“y/n- not now”

he looked down at you and you stared at him. he never said no to you giving him head. you were confused and hurt so you got up and looked at him

“are you fucking someone else?”

he just looked at you

so he was. either way you guys weren’t really anything, just some plain fuck buddies so why would you care?

“i don’t really care if you are but if you wanna stop what we’re doing you could’ve just told me, instead of making me look stupid this whole time”

“no y/n it’s not that it’s just that”

“then what is it? are you..not attracted to me anymore?”

jaehyun stood up his bed and held you arms

“no y/n it’s not that either”

you pulled away from him

“then oh my god jaehyun just tell me you don’t want me anymore and i’ll leave! stop making this so difficult!”

for some reason you felt the feeling of wanting to cry, you would be lying if you didn’t say you liked jaehyun, because you liked him a lot so for you it technically feels like a break up

“it’s not that y/n!! it’s just that.. i like you”

you froze and looked at him

“i really like you y/n. since the first time i saw you i knew you were the girl of my dreams. but you’re so amazing and beautiful and are so close with the guys so you clearly have other options but i hope that you don’t pick nobody else even tho your out of my league and i don’t even know if you like me but-“

you grabbed his face and kissed him deeply

this kiss feeling different then the others

“jaehyun i like you too” you smiled at him and he smiled back. kissing him back he pulled you in more deeper and held your waist tightly

you pulled back to catch your breath and he layed you down on the bed. he crawled on top of you and kissed you again. he kissed your jaw then your neck then took your shirt off and started kissing your bare chest

he started to rub his fingers against your thighs slowly going upwards. teasing you

“jaehyun please”

“please what baby?”

“i-“

“cmon beg for it”

“i need you in me jae please, please come in me”

a lusty smile spread across his face

he fell to his knees in front of you and disappeared in between your legs

He licked and sucked your clit as if it was his last meal. his toungue moving slowly but amazing he started to speed up and you couldn’t hold it anymore, you grabbed his fluffy hair and pulled on it pushing his face more in you. And he enjoyed it feeling both pain and pleasure from it, you can tell from a muffled moan he lets out and the way he-squishes your thighs in his hand harshly

“oh shit jae im so-“

“cum for me baby” he mumbles in between each lick and that’s it for you

you release on his toungue and his face

you breathe heavily after the amazing orgasm you just had.

jaehyun comes out with his hair that is now a mess after all the pulling and pushing, he’s red, sweaty, and his face is covered with you. he uses his toungue to wipe it off and brings it back into his mouth tasting you

“i love the way you taste. so sweet like watermelon” you felt turned on once again as he said that with his deep sexy voice

he stood up and took his pants off revealing his hard aching cock

you immediately stood up and got on your knees in front of him

you held his cock in your hand and started pumping it. you took it to your mouth and licked the sides and the tip before putting it all in your mouth

jaehyuns threw his head back and let out a loud grown

you started to suck it his dick pumping in and out of you

“oh fuck yes baby just like that”

he held your head and pushed you in deeper

you couldn’t breathe but you liked it

with one last push you tasted him, his come dripping down your mouth

he turned you around and bent you down in front of him

he pulled your skirt down giving him a full view of your ass. he lined himself up with you and after a bit of teasing he finally put it in

you moaned loudly at the feeling that overcame you

“you take me in so well baby”

jaehyun whispered in your ear thrusting hard

you were a moaning mess

he hit every spot he needed to hit

“jaehyun”

“yes baby”

“jaehyun” you were so into the feeling of him in you that all you could do was moan his name out loud

jaehyun was all you could think about

“let me hear you”

jaehyun was always so good at having sex, which is why you kept on doing it after that one time

he was clearly an expert but something about you guys right now felt different

you weren’t just having sex you were making love

“fuck i’m so close y/n”

you held him close and digged your nails on his back. you were both tired and a moaning sweaty mess

with one last thrust you hit the best orgasm you every had

you released all over jaehyun as he was grunting

you could tell he was also close and with one last thrust he collapsed on top of you

you were both heavy breathing bodies closed together your hand hugging his back and his face in your neck

he was about to get up but you stopped him pulling him back down

“baby you have to get cleaned”

“we can go all night”

you rolled him over and got on top of him about to kiss him

“yo jae can i eat your flamin hot ch-“

johnny came in with jaehyuns hot cheetos bag. jaehyun immediately put the covers on top of both of you guys

johnnys eyes widened and his jaw dropped at the sight of your naked self on top of jaehyuns, naked self

“john get out!!!!” jaehyun threw a pillow

johnny snapped back into reality and closed the door

you fell on jaehyun feeling embarrassed

your childhood best friend just walked in on you and his other best friend having sex

the door opened once again

“can i put lemon on them?”

“JOHNNY” you both said in unison

“ok fine fine” he closed the door

flamin hot lemon

[waitimcomingtoo]

Question…?

Pairing: Peter Parker x best friend!Reader

Synopsis: Peter accidentally sends you mixed signals when he kisses you for the first time then stands you up

Masterlist

You and Peter laid opposite ways on his bed so you could face each other while doing some chemistry homework together. Peter had stopped paying attention to his homework around ten minutes ago and was now just doodling in between looking up to sneak glances at you.

“What did you get for number 9?”

“Um, I got 13.” Peter stopped doodling and read from his page.

“What? How? I got a negative 658.”

“How did you possibly get that?” Peter laughed and stretched his neck to see your work.

“I don’t know. I hate math.” You whined and drew your knees to your forehead. Peter couldn’t help but stare at your bare legs that stemmed from the little lounge shorts you had on. Peter was usually pretty good at keeping his feelings for you to himself, but when you wore things like that, it became significantly harder to contain himself.

“Stop staring at my legs, perv.” You said without looking up from the problem you were doing. Peter blushed a deep red and quickly looked away, panicking now that you had caught what he had been doing.

“I wasn’t.” He lied and pretended he was looking at his notebook the whole time.

“Yes you were.” You smirked and looked up. “Perv.”

“You’re the perv who keeps looking at my feet in these tight little socks.” Peter joked as he rubbed his foot on your leg, making you gag.

“Ew. Get that off of me. And what are you implying, mister?” You laughed and hit his foot with your notebook.

“That you have a foot fetish and everyone knows.” Peter shrugged.

“I do not. And even if I did, you think I’d be attracted to your nasty feet? You don’t even wash your legs in the shower.”

“How do you even remember that? I told you that in like eight grade.” Peter laughed and felt secretly pleased that you remembered such a random detail.

“Ninth grade.” You corrected. “And I remember everything, bitch.”

“Oh yeah? Then do you remember when you had a crush on our drivers Ed teacher that year?” Peter smiled teasingly and put his notebook down.

“Oh yeah.” You laughed. “Mr. Whiler. That dude was double handsome. His eyes were Spotify green and he smelled like sandalwood.”

“Remember that time he wore his shirt unbuttoned and you looked over at him so many times that you rear ended a priest?” Peter asked and rested his chin on your knees.

“It wasn’t a priest. It was a Eucharistic minister. And I barely tapped his car.” You scoffed and flicked his forehead.

“Barely tapped? His whole trunk opened and those little crackers fell on the ground.” Peter reminded you as he pushed your notebook down.

“They’re not crackers. They’re the Eucharist. Finish your work.” You playfully scolded him and nodded towards his notebook.

“Remember when you got scared during your first time driving and parked at a green light?” Peter kept going and pushed your notebook again.

“Do you remember that we’re supposed to be doing homework?” You mocked his tone and lightly smacked his head with your book.

“Homework is boring. I wanna talk to you.” Peter whined and rubbed his foot on your leg again.

“Get your dogs off of me. I’m allergic.”

“Fine. I’ll just rotate then.” Peter said as he scooted next to you.

“Just like them damn rotisserie chickens.” You sighed and went back to your homework. Peter stayed quiet and watched you work for a few minutes until he got bored again.

“Do you ever wonder what Mr. Whiler is up to now?” Peter asked you.

“He’s a drivers Ed instructor. He’s probably up to absolutely nothing or whippits.”

“Probably.” Peter chuckled. “But hey, you’re over 18 now. Do you think if he asked you out, you’d say yes?”

“Ew, no. He knew me when I was 16. Anyone who knew me when I was 16 has to die.”

“I knew you when you were 16.” Peter reminded you as he took your notebook and tossed it into the bed. With your hands free, you got an idea and grabbed a pillow.

“Oh shit. You’re right.” You pretended to gasp before tackling Peter and smothering him with the pillow. He laughed and pushed the pillow out of your hands, leaving him lying on his bed with you hovering over him. You looked into each others eyes for a minute and shyly smiled at each other.

“You seriously wouldn’t date him if he came back into our lives?” Peter asked you in a soft voice.

“Gross. No he’s way too old. I don’t like him like that anymore.”

“Do you like anyone like that anymore?” He asked, making you gulp. Your eyes dropped down to Peters lips for a second before looking back into his eyes.

“I don’t know.” You lied. “Do you?”

Even though Peter should’ve seen that question coming, he didn’t. He didn’t know how to tell you that he had fallen in love with his best friend and only brought up your old crush because he had a recurring nightmare that he lost you to your old drivers Ed instructor. He felt his face turn bright red and quickly thought of a diversion. He gasped loudly, making your eyes widen.

“What?” You asked. With you being distracted, Peter seized the opportunity to flip you over so that he was the one pinning you to the bed.

“Hulkmania is running wild, brother.” He said in a deep voice.

“No.” You whined. “Don’t do your Hulk Hogan impression. You know it grosses me out.”

“I fear no man, no beast or evil, brother.” Peter continued in his deep voice.

“Get off of me.” You playfully groaned and tried to wriggle out of Peters grasp.

“No. Not until you tell me who you like.”

“I asked you first.”

“No you didn’t.” He laughed. “ I asked you first.”

“Well you weren’t supposed to fact check me.” You snapped before breaking out in a smile. Peter smiled back before getting an idea.

“Hey, can I body slam you with my entire body weight?” Peter asked in a casual tone.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

“Okay. Incoming.” Peter announced before dropping himself onto you and knocking the wind out of your chest.

“Ow. Get off me, fat ass.” You laughed and tried to push him off.

“You love this fat ass.” He insisted and stayed on top of you. You laughed and looked into his eyes, unable to be mad at him.

“I do. I can’t help it but I do. It’s a sickness.” You laughed softly and pushed some hair off his forehead.

“It’s okay.” He smiled. “I love your fat ass too.”

“Peter?” You asked suddenly as your smile faded.

“Yeah?”

“Can we always be this close?” You asked him, taking him by surprise. Peter propped himself up on his elbows to look at you beneath him but found no words to say. He always wanted to be close to you, but he needed you to know that he wanted to be closer. Before Peter could overthink it, he dipped his head down and kissed you. He could feel your eyes slowly flutter shut, eyelashes tickling his face as the went down. Once you got over your initial shock, you kissed him back. The kiss was slow and soft and sweet until Peter realized what he had done. He quickly sat up and held his hands up.

“I’m sorry!” I don’t know why I just did that. I should’ve asked you first. I’m didn’t mean to-“

Peter was cut off by you grabbing his shirt and pulling him back down into a kiss. He didn’t know what was going on or what this meant for your relationship, but he went with it. He kissed you with more confidence this time as he slipped his fingers through yours to hold the hands he was pinning to his mattress. Time seemed to slip away as you kissed each other and the only thing that broke your bubble was the sound of May opening Peters door.

“Y/n, your moms-“

“AH.” You and Peter jumped away from each other and screamed at the unexpected interruption. You wiped your lips and grabbed your notebook in a failed attempt to make it look like nothing had been going on. May looked between you and Peter and held back a laugh when she realized what she walked in on.

“God, May! Don’t you knock?” Peter exclaimed and put his hand over his pounding heart.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize I was interrupting something.” May said with a coy smile.

“May. Go away.” Peter whined and threw a pillow at the door. May shut the door a little so it wouldn’t hit her and laughed at Peters attempt.

“I just came to tell you Y/n’s mom is at the front door. She wants her home now.” May said. You and Peter stayed silent, refusing to look at each other or speak.

“If you can tear yourselves away from each other, that is.” May added with a cheeky smile.

“May.” Peter said through clenched teeth and chucked another pillow.

“Just teasing. Come on, Y/n. I’ll walk you out. Unless you wanted your mom to come in here?” May asked innocently.

“No!” You exclaimed and jumped off the bed. “Don’t bring my mom in. I’ll leave.”

Peter felt his disappointment sink in as he watched you gather your things and go towards the door. You looked at Peter before leaving and wished you could give him a proper goodbye but it was impossible with May standing right there. Instead, you gave him a soft smile and a wave that said you wished you could stay but had to go. Peter returned the wave and hoped it conveyed how much he wanted you to stay. You gave him one last look before disappearing out his door.

Peter could barely sleep that night in anticipation of seeing you the next day. He woke up groggy but with excitement I’m his chest as he got dressed. He put a little more effort into his appearance than usual and found himself checking himself in the mirror every few seconds. When he finally got to school, he was on high alert. He scanned the hallway in search of you but wasn’t able to spot you anywhere. He began to worry that you felt like you had made a mistake last night and were avoiding Peter because of it.

“Hey.” Your voice suddenly came from behind Peter, making him jump and scream.

“AHH.” He yelped and turned around.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t know how to approach you. Oh my God. I should go.” You tried to run away but Peter grabbed your backpack.

“No wait. Come back.” He chuckled and pulled you back towards him. Even though Peter had looked at you nearly everyday for the past 15 years, he felt like he was seeing you for the first time. Now that the line between friendship and relationship had been smudged, you looked different to Peter in a way that made his fondness for you grow.

“Hi.” You smiled sheepishly.

“Hi. Good morning. How did you sleep?” Peter asked as he moved a strand of hair off your forehead.

“Don’t do this to me.”

“Do what?”

“Act all sweet and normal after what happened last night. After what we did.” You whispered and looked around for who might be listening.

“Did we do something? I can’t remember.” Peter played dumb and made the gap between the two of you smaller.

“Peter.” You whined. “Don’t play games with me right now. I already feel awkward enough around you. Do you think we could talk?”

“Yeah. Come here.” Peter took your hand and brought you into the closest janitors closet before shutting the door.

“Why are we in a janitors closet?” You looked around and grimaced.

“For privacy.”

“We need privacy?” You looked at him with a coy smile.

“Yeah. I think so, at least.” Peter laughed shyly and suddenly felt nervous around you for the first time since the day you met.

“Oh. I think so too.” You replied with a timid smile. You looked at each other for a minute and uncomfortably swayed back and forth, neither sure what to say first.

“What did you want to talk about?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“I wanted to talk about last night. I just didn’t want to do it in a crowded hallway.”

“So did I. You left before we got a chance to discuss…” Peter trailed off and smiled sheepishly.

“Us?” You finished his sentence for him and took a step closer.

“Yeah. Us.” Peter grinned. “I would love to talk about us. Preferably not in this dark and smelly janitors closet.”

“The one you pulled us into.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“Yeah. My bad. What if we talk tonight? Maybe over some food?”

“Like a date?” You asked coyly.

“Yeah. I would like to take you on a date.” Peter said with confidence this time.

“Okay. Do you want to meet at Delmars or something?”

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up at 6 and can walk there together.”

“Okay. Perfect. But what do we do until then? I still feel a little awkward around you. I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to act.”

“I honestly don’t know either. So how about this? Until we talk everything out tonight, we’re just the same friends we’ve always been.” Peter suggested and took a step closer.

“Okay. Sure. Until tonight, just friends.” You nodded as you eyes fell to his lips. You looked back and forth between his lips and his eyes a few times before crashing your lips to his. You threw your arms around his neck to pull him closer as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You knocked things off the shelves as you made out in a flurry of teeth and kisses. Peter could barely believe his wildest dreams of being with you were coming true and in a damp and dingy janitors closet no less. He pushed that out of his mind and smiled into the kiss as he tried to memorize every groove of your lips. You could have stayed in there with him for hours but the bell ringing reminded you that you had somewhere to be.

“Okay, okay. I need to get to class.” You laughed against Peters lips. He put his hands on your face and kept kissing you.

“Shhhh. Class is for nerds. Stay in the smelly closet with your best friend.” He said between kisses.

“Peter. I have to go.” You laughed again and tried to push him off. He came right back and kept kissed you.

“You have to stay.” He whined against your lips. You caved and kissed him back for a few minutes before pushing him off again.

“We’re just friends, remember? Just friends don’t make out in closets.” You reminded him as you wiped your lipstick off his lips.

“But I’m feeling romantical. Kiss me on my hot mouth.” He said and went in for another kiss. You kissed him back for just a second before pushing him off.

“Peter.” You laughed and held him back with your hands. Peter let out a comically long sigh and stayed away from you.

“Fine. I’ll see you at 6?” He smiled and took both your hands.

“Uh huh. And a bunch of times before that because we have a majority of our classes together.”

“How lucky am I?” Peter sighed and leaned down to kiss you again. You couldn’t help but kiss him back until you heard the second bell ring.

“I’m leaving now. Try to calm down until tonight.” You teased him as you fixed your disheveled clothes.

“No promises.” He sighed happily as you left the closet. Once he was alone, he jumped into the air and pumped his fist before doing a little happy dance.

Peter did in fact see you many times throughout the day and could not focus on anything else. He rested his chin in his hand and stared at you for the third class period in a row before accepting that he was not going to be getting anything productive done today. When his last class finally ended, he rushed back to his apartment to start getting ready. He jumped in the shower and when he got out, he saw that someone had been blowing up his phone. He assumed the texts were from you and looked into the mirror before reading them.

“Okay Parker. Don’t blow this. All you have to do is tell your best friend you’re in love with her. How hard could it be?” Peter said to his reflection to hype himself up before reading the texts. Instead of the flirty messages he was expecting, he instead learned of an active crime scene that needed Spider-Man’s attention.

“Dammit. Active shooter at the bank?” Peter sighed and quickly read through the police report. He knew he had to put all other plans on pause until after the crime was dealt with.

“It’s only 3 pm. I have plenty of time to go there and make sure everyone is okay before our date.” Peter talked to himself as he swung to the crime scene.

A few hours later, Peter swung home and slipped into his apartment via an open window. He pulled his mask off with a heavy sigh and plopped down on his couch. He had managed to stop anybody from getting hurt, but doing so meant fighting off severely men much bigger than him for hours on end.

“Pete? Is that you?” May called from the kitchen. Peter rubbed his tired eyes before trudging into the kitchen to sit at the counter and watch May do the dishes.

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“How was it? I saw what happened on the news.”

“Luckily no one got hurt. Except me.” Peter winced as he rubbed one of his many injuries from the night.

“At least you can sleep tonight knowing you did the right thing. Oh, and did you talk to Y/n yet? She came by looking for you before.” May asked over her shoulder.

“She came by?” Peter perked up a little when he heard this.

“Yeah. She seemed pretty upset. Did you guys have a fight?” May asked, making all the blood drain from Peters face.

“Oh balls.” He whispered under his breath.

“Peter. Language.”

“May. May, this isn’t good.” Peter gulped and pulled out his phone. Sure enough, he had 3 missed calls and a bunch of texts asking where he was. His heart dropped to his stomach when he realized what he had unintentionally done.

“What happened? Was it a fight? Was I right?”

“It wasn’t a fight but it’s about to be.” Peters hands shook as he dialed your number but your immediately declined. He tried calling a few more time before sending you a text.

“Why? What did you do?” May stopped making dinner to focus on her nephew. Peter said his texts go from “delivered” to “read” with no response. He knew you were too angry to reply to him so he put his phone down with a sigh. He then looked at May, who was looking at him expectantly.

“We kissed yesterday.” He admitted. “And we made a plan to talk about what it meant and our relationship and-“

“And you were out on patrol?” May gasped when she realized what he was about to say.

“Yes.”

“Instead of with her?” May slammed her hand on the counter with anger.

“There was a bank robbery! I didn’t think it would take as long as it did. I didn’t mean to stand her up. I just…forgot about her.”

“Peter, believe it or not, girls don’t like being forgotten about.”

“What am I gonna do, May? I goofed. I goofed real bad.” Peter groaned and hung his head in his hands.

“No, Peter. This is much worse than a goof. You fucked up big time.”

“May! What happened to watching our language?”

“I made that rule before I realized my nephew was a fucking heartbreaker.” She said and pointed an accusatory finger at Peter.

“I didn’t mean to stand her up, May.” Peter whined. “I would never do that to her. I just got sidetracked by something more important.”

“Peter, this girl has been your best friend since pre school. She has been there for you every time you needed her. How do you think she feels after you kissed her and then stood her up?”

“Probably really bad.” Peter said quietly.

“Yeah. Really fucking bad, Peter.”

“I know. I really fucked it up this time.” Peter said as tears came to his eyes. He looked at his phone again to see if you texted him back but there was nothing.

“You need it make it up to her. Immediately.” May said with folded arms.

“How? She’s never gonna talk to me again.” Peter started to cry for what he had done. May sighed and felt guilty for making Peter feel worse than he already did. She went over to him and pulled him into a hug as he cried into her chest.

“She’s gonna talk to you again. She just needs some time. So what you’re gonna do is apologize to her and let her know that when she’s ready to speak to you, you’ll be there.”

“Okay.” Peter sniffled.

“And Peter?” May asked and cupped his chin.

“Yeah?”

“Be there.” She said sternly.

Peter nodded before going to his room to get changed. Once he was back in his regular clothes, he went across the hall to knock on your apartment door.

“Hi. Is Y/n home?” Peter asked hopefully once your mom answered.

“She went out a little while ago. She’s not with you?” Your mom asked.

“No, she’s not.” Peter sighed. “If she comes home, could you please tell her to call me? Tell her it’s important.”

“Okay. I will.”

“Thank you.” Peter smiled weakly before running off towards the elevator. He made his way out of the building as he could and ran to Delmars.

“Is Y/n here?” Peter asked as he burst through the door.

“I outta beat your ass. And you know what? I will.” Delmar said as he walked around the counter and grabbed Peter by the collar of his shirt.

“She told you?” Peter asked as he braced himself for a punch.

“Put him down, papi. Let her have her revenge on him first. Then you can beat him up.” Delmars daughter, Louisa, said without up from her magazine. Delmar looked at Peter angrily before dropping him on the ground.

“She didn’t have to tell me anything. I sent my daughter over to talk to her when I saw that she was crying.”

“She was crying?” Peter worried. “Did she say anything?”

“Yeah. She said her best friend stood her up. I’m assuming that’s you?” Delmar asked and folded his arms.

“It is me.” Peter admitted. “But it was an accident.”

“Y/n comes in here all the time. She’s a sweet girl. Always puts money in the tip jar and asks me how I am. Why would you hurt a sweet girl like that?” Delmar asked and took an angry step towards Peter.

“I didn’t mean to. I go caught up in something and missed our date. You know me, man. You know I’m not a bad guy. I just did a bad thing.” Peter said, making Delmar back off a little.

“You better make things right. She was very upset when she left here. And I don’t like seeing nice girls cry over idiot boys, okay?”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m gonna fix this. Can you just tell me what happened?”

“Like I said, I saw her crying so I sent my daughter over to check on her. She told my daughter that you stood her up so I gave her a free sandwich and let her pet my cat until she felt better.”

“Then where did she go?” Peter asked desperately.

“How should I know?” Delmar scoffed and went back behind the counter.

“Okay. Thank you anyway. I’m gonna try to find her.”

“You better. And don’t come back here unless you want an ass whooping. You little punk.” Delmar called as Peter ran out the door. Once Peter was gone, you came out from the back of the store with an empty cup of tea in your hands.

“Is he gone?” You asked in a weak voice.

“Yes, mi amor. He’s gone. Did you like the tea? My mother makes a homemade batch every day.”

“I liked the tea.” You said quietly as you stared into your empty cup.

“You can hide out here as long as you like, but we should at least call your mom. She’s probably wondering where you are.” Delmar said as he rubbed your shoulder to comfort you.

“That’s okay. My mom texted me a few mins ago and said Peter came by looking for me. I think it’s safe for me to go home now.” You said and smiled weakly in appreciation.

“Okay, mi vida. I’m sorry he let you down tonight. If you were my daughter, he’d be dead and in a shallow grave by now.” Delmar said, making you laugh a little.

“Thanks. Thank you both for cheering me up and letting me hide. I’m just not ready to talk to him.”

“I get it. I wouldn’t be ready either. Let me know how it goes. And if you need to hide out some more, you know where to find us.” Louisa said and pulled you into a tight hug. You had never spoken to her before today but felt grateful that she decided to help a stranger. You thanked them both again before leaving Delmars and walking home. Your mom told you Peter asked you to call him once you walked into your apartment but you lied and said you were too tired. It was too much to get into tonight and all you wanted to do was sleep.

The next day at school, Peter saw you by your locker and froze. You looked like you had gotten as much sleep as Peter, which was little to none. Peter took a deep breath before walking up to you.

“Hey.” Peter smiled weakly and braced himself for the worst possible reaction from you. Instead of screaming at him like he assumed, you just kept getting your stuff out of your locker.

“Okay. You’re not talking to me. I deserve that.” He nodded. You slammed your locker shut and started to walk away.

“Wait. Please just let me explain.” Peter begged as he ran in front of you. You didn’t make eye contact with him but he could see your lip beginning to tremble.

“I don’t understand.” You said in a weak voice.

“You don’t understand what?”

“You kissed me. You asked me on a date. I was perfectly fine with us being friends but you changed things. Why would you do all of that just to stand me up?”

“I didn’t stand you up. I got caught up in something really important and it took longer than I expected. That’s the only reason I didn’t show up. And I’m so, so, incredibly fucking sorry that I didn’t show up. You have no idea how much I wanted to be there and go on that date. Something just came up and I had no choice.”

“I get that. Shit comes up. But why didn’t you text or call?”

“To be perfectly honest, I completely forgot about the date until I finished with the other thing. I didn’t remember until May told me you had come by.”

“You forgot?” You asked as you finally looked at Peter. The sadness in your eyes was replaced with stone cold anger that sent a shiver down Peters spine.

“Yes.” He admitted. “But only because what I was doing was super important and needed my full attention.”

“What is this “super important” thing you had to do that made you forget about me?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I can’t tell you.” Peter grimaced as the words came out, knowing you’d never believe him.

“You can’t tell me?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No, I’m sorry. I can’t tell you.”

You stared at Peter for a long time as the anger you felt inside doubled. You balled your hands into fists and wanted to punch him right in his face but instead, you just walked away.

“Wait.” Peter called after you and ran up to you again. You didn’t look at him as you walked to your next class.

“Can we please reschedule to tonight? We still really need to talk about us.” He said as he struggled to keep up with you.

“No.”

“No? But we never got a chance-“

“Let me make this perfectly clear, Peter.” You cut him off. Any chance of “us” happening ended last night when you decided not to show up. I got no call, no text, and now some half assed excuse that doesn’t even come with an explanation as to where you were? And to top it all off, you had the nerve, the absolute fucking audacity, to tell me that you forgot about me. You forgot about me? Was that seriously supposed to make this all better?”

“No. I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Peter rubbed his eyes in frustration. “I know I fucked up. But please, I really really like you. I want to give us a chance. I screwed up last night but don’t let that ruin what we have.”

“I can’t ruin it. You already did.” Your voice cracked as you walked away again. This time, he let you go.

As much as you wanted to avoid Peter and let him suffer, you had an hour long lab period with him after your first period class. You walked in and went towards your usual lab table out of muscle memory. When you saw that Peter was already sitting there, you froze.

“Hey.” Peter smiled brightly when you made eye contact. You immediately looked away and stopped at the closest lab table.

“Can I please sit here?” You asked without even looking at who was already sitting there.

“You can sit that pretty little thang anywhere you like.” Flash smirked and patted the seat beside him.

“Thanks.” You mumbled and took a seat. Peter watched you sit beside Flash and felt a bubble of jealousy in his stomach. He wanted to listen to what you were saying but didn’t want to invade your privacy.

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but no one ever sits with me for labs. And that’s because of my horrific personality and general off putting vibe. I’m also really bad at biology-“

“This is chemistry.” You cut in.

“Really? Oh shit, I’m even worse at that.” Flash laughed. “Anyway, how would you feel about doing all the work and letting me copy?”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” You mumbled and started doing the lab work. Flash noticed you weren’t dishing back with your usual insults and frowned.

“You okay?” He asked in a kinder tone. You had one of those moments where you were fine until someone asked you if you were okay, prompting you to break down.

“I’m fine.” You said in a shaky voice and quickly wiped your face. Flash noticed your tears and looked over his shoulder to see Peter staring at you with all the guilt in the world on his face.

“How come you’re not sitting with Parker?” Flash asked you. You blinked back a few tears and tried to focus on your work.

“We had a falling out.”

“Oh shit. Really?” Flash snorted and looked over his shoulder again at Peter, who was looking back this time. Peter could tell you had said something to Flash about what happened and his curiosity was killing him.

“What did he do?” Flash nudged you when you didn’t answer.

“Why do you just assume he did something?”

“Because you’re the one who changed seats.” Flash said, making you shrug in agreement.

“And because Parker’s an idiot.” He added after a beat. You couldn’t help but smile and nod your head.

“Yeah. He is.” You chuckled and looked over at Flash. Peter clenched his fist in jealousy over Flash getting you to laugh and smile but kept quiet.

“So come on. Tell me what he did.” Flash urged now that he had cheered you up a little.

“No. Here’s the answers to the first page.” You said and slid your work over to him.

“Thanks.” Flash replied and copied your work down. Peter watched this with tight eyes and felt his jealousy worsen. Lab days were usually spent giggling and flirting with each other as you shared answers and now he had to watch you do that with Flash.

“Here’s page two.” Flash handed you his work after a couple minutes of silence.

“You finished? I thought you were gonna copy me?”

“I was. But I’ll let you copy me if you tell me what Parker did.”

“I’m not gonna tell you. And these are all wrong.” You laughed and handed the page back to him.

“That’s because I just wrote down random numbers. I didn’t realize you were going to actually look at them.” Flash scoffed and snatched his page back. You threw your head back laughing at his erratic behavior, catching Peters attention in the process. Peter couldn’t imagine what Flash could’ve possibly said to make you laugh like that but it made white hot jealousy course through his body.

“He’s staring at us, you know. With those beady little rat eyes of his.” Flash leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Flash.” You laughed in surprise and checked behind you to see if Peter had heard that. You accidentally made eye contact with Peter and quickly looked away.

“What? Haven’t you ever noticed that he kind of looks like he always has a frog in his mouth? And he’s trying to keep it from jumping out?” Flash asked you in a genuine tone.

“Shut up. You’re so mean.” You laughed and playfully shoved him away from you. Peter just about fell over when he saw this and loudly cleared his throat to get your attention. You looked over your shoulder and made eye contact for just a second before looking away.

“Can I at least know what he did?” Flash whispered again. You let out a sigh and decided that since he had made you feel better, you’d give him what he wanted.

“He said he’d take me on a date and he didn’t. I waited all night for him and he never came.” You said simply and went back to your work. Flash was quiet for a long time and when he didn’t respond, you looked at him in confusion.

“He’s a loser. You deserved better.” Flash said with a sympathetic smile.

“Oh. Thanks.” You smiled in surprise at his chivalry after expecting a crude response.

“Let me take you on a real date to make up for it.” Flash said at full volume, making Peters stomach drop. Before you could answer, the bell rang and the period ended. Peter ran out of the classroom as quickly as he could before he could hear you after to go on a date with another boy. You gave Flash your answer as you collected your things.

“Thanks for letting me sit with you.” You said to Flash as you walked out of the class together.

“Anything to mess with Parker.” Flash smiled and held his fist out. You fist bumped him and felt lighter then you had since last night.

You continued to avoid Peter for the rest of the day, not an easy task considering you had almost every class together. He knew the one place you couldn’t avoid him was your locker, which was conveniently right next to his. He got his stuff that he needed for the night and waited until you showed up. You soon showed up and saw Peter standing by his locker, making you want to walk right out of the building. You knew you couldn’t leave without getting your books so you held your chin up and went to get your books. You could feel Peter staring at you with his puppy dog eyes and couldn’t help but roll your eyes to the ceiling.

“Hey.” He said in a quiet voice. You didn’t answer and pretended to take interest in one of your textbooks.

“I miss you.” He tried again, making you pause a little to internally admit that you missed him too.

“I heard you’re going on a date with Flash.” He added, catching you off guard.

“What? Did Flash tell you that?” You frowned confusion. You hadn’t meant to respond, but that came out of nowhere and you wanted to know more.

“No. I heard you guys talking during lab today.” Peter admitted, gaining the slightest inch of hope now that you had spoken to him. You were about to tell Peter that you turned Flash down, but you decided to let him suffer a little after the way he had made you feel.

“Yeah, well, I bet you have a lot to say about that.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“I do.” Peter replied, making you sigh and look at him.

“Go ahead. Tell me he’s an idiot and a womanizer and that I’m stupid for going out with him and-“

“I hope you have a nice time.” Peter cut you off. “I hope he picks a place you like and pulls your chair out for you and drives you home in his expensive car. And I hope you fall asleep that night with a smile on your face because you had a nice time. That’s all I was gonna say.”

“Why would you hope for that?” You asked with suspicion.

“Because you’re my best friend and that means I want you to have a great date.” Peter said sincerely. You eyed him skeptically but heard him out.

“Even if it’s not with me.” He added and held his breath in fear of your response. You looked Peter up and down and felt your heart ache in your chest. You hated being mad at him because the only person you wanted to confide in about your heartbreak was him. All you wanted was to talk to your best friend and let him make you feel better.

“I’m not going on the date with him. I said no.” You admitted and avoided eye contact with Peter.

“You did? Why?”

“I told him it wouldn’t be fair to him to go out with him because even though you’re a total butt munch who sucks major balls and I hate with all my heart, I still have feelings for you.” You confessed as you slowly looked into Peters eyes.

“You have feelings for me?” Peter asked in a soft voice and took a step closer to you.

“I have for a while. That’s what I was gonna tell you last night but you never showed up.” You felt angry again and took a step back.

“Can we please have our date tonight? I swear, I will show up this time. Nothing could keep me away.”

“I don’t know. Are you gonna tell me what super important thing kept you from showing up last time?” You asked and folded your arms.

“Yes. Tonight I’ll explain everything.” Peter promised you. You were too curious about what caused him to stand you up to stay no, so you reluctantly nodded your head.

“Fine. I’ll give you a second chance.”

“That’s my first favorite kind of chance.” Peter smiled in relief.

“But if you blow it tonight, I’m never speaking to you again. I mean it.”

“I won’t blow it. I swear.” Peter promised you. “Can you meet me on the Brooklyn bridge tonight?”

You were silent for a long time as you stared at Peter until you finally found the words.

“Why the fuck would we have this relationship changing discussion on the Brooklyn bridge?” You asked after a beat of silence. Peter paused, realizing that that was a valid question, before responding.

“Just please try to trust me. I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons not to. But everything will make sense after tonight. I promise.”

“Fine. It better.”

“I’ll see you then?” Peter asked hopefully.

That night, Peter put on his Spiderman suit and swung to the Brooklyn bridge. He felt so anxious that his hands shook as he grabbed the next web so he tried to push everything from his mind. When he landed on top of the bridge, he scanned the street below until he found you. He let out a nervous breath before jumping down and landing near you.

“Hey.” Peter said to get your attention.

“Oh my God. Hi.” You laughed in surprise when you saw who was talking to you.

“Can I show you something?” Peter asked through his mask, catching you off guard. You looked behind you to make sure Spiderman was talking to you and not someone else but found no one there.

“Sorry, Spiderman. As intriguing and random as that offer is, I’m kinda waiting for somebody. It’s really important.”

“I know. It’ll just take a sec.”

“Okay, fine.” You agreed. “As long as you bring me right back.”

“I will.” Peter promised as he slipped a secure arm around your waist. You let out a nervous breath and wrapped your arms around his neck for more support.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” Peter grinned under his mask before shooting a web and swinging away. You let out a thrilled scream and held on tight as Peter swung you up to a building that stood opposite the Brooklyn bridge. You opened your eyes once you felt your feet on the ground and gasped when you saw what he had wanted to show you.

“I love you” had been written in webs on the bridge in giant letters. The lights of the cityscape behind it lit it up a soft yellow that made you feel a warm feeling inside.

“Aw, that’s beautiful, Spiderman. Who did you do that for?” You turned to him to ask.

“I did it for you.” Peter said and took a step closer to you. Your fondness for it turned to fear as you took a step back.

“Why me? You don’t know me.” You laughed nervously and wondered if Spiderman had been stalking you without your knowledge.

“Yes I do. You’re my best friend. I know you better than anyone.”

“Okay. I’m officially creeped out now.” You laughed nervously and stepped dither away from him. “This is on me for letting a stranger swing me up to a place I cannot escape from.”

“I’m not a stranger.” Peter tried to tell you as he walked towards you.

“You may be Spiderman but you are still a stranger and I am feeling in danger.” You said as you peered over the side of the building, only to confirm you had no escape.

“What? No, you’re not in danger. Look. It’s just me.” Peter laughed and went to take his mask off. He found himself freezing for a moment, knowing that this would be the moment before absolutely everything changed.

“You said “it’s just me” and then didn’t take your mask off.” You pointed out.

“I know. Just give me a second. I’m shy.” Peter said and went for the edge of his mask again. You looked at him expectingly and felt your heart pounding over being seconds away from finding out who Spiderman was under his mask. Peters heart was pounding for the same reason.

“Okay. No going back now.” Peter said to himself before pulling his mask off. He watched your eyebrows go up in an initial surprise before your face settled in a fond smile.

“You know, so many things just made sense.” You said with a gentle laugh.

“Right? Didn’t I tell you it would all make sense after tonight?” Peter smiled now that he had gotten an good reaction. You stepped closer to him and held his hands, just trying to feel the suit in order to convince yourself that this was really happening.

“So this is why you missed the dance last year? And the decathlon?”

“And why I didn’t show up last night. There was a robbery-“

“On 5th avenue.” You realized. “I saw that. You were there?”

“I had to be there. I have this great power and with that comes with a great responsibility.”

You were quite for a minute, then made a face and laughed.

“Peter. A catchphrase? Do you seriously have a catch phrase?” You covered your mouth as you laughed.

“No.” He whined. “That wasn’t a catchphrase. It was more like my tag line if I was a comic book.”

“You’re making it so hard to be attracted to you right now.” You continued to laugh but never let go of his hand.

“What? I just swept you off your feet -literally- after telling the entire world I loved you with my webs.” Peter said as he pointed to the bride. You looked at the bridge again with a whole new perspective now that you knew it was you best friend telling you he loved you. You then looked at Peter and couldn’t contain your smile.

“Yeah, but then you said something that gave me the ick.”

“Are you kidding me? I should be ick free after giving you the grandest of grand gestures.” Peter said and gestured to the bridge again with both arms. You laughed at how worked up he was getting before wrapping your arms around his neck to look at him. Peter settled his hands on your waist and gulped a little as he anxiously anticipated what you were gonna say.

“I love you too. I was gonna tell you that yesterday but then some bitch ass had to rob a bank and keep you from me.” You told him, making him laugh in both surprise and relief.

“Wait, nobody died right? Or was that super insensitive?” You asked him.

“Nobody died. I got punched in the nuts though.” He said though a laugh.

“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted sarcastically and stroked his cheek. He laughed again before resting his forehead against your to look into your eyes. You stayed that way in comfortable silence for a moment before Peter felt your body freeze in fear.

“Oh my God.” You whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

“It just occurred to me that I’m standing on top of a random building with nothing but your noodle arms anchoring me to the floor. I’m gonna pass out. Take me to the ground, please. I beg you.”

“Hang tight.” Peter chuckled and safely swung you to the ground. Once he set you down, he crawled up the wall behind you and slipped his mask back over his face so that no one would accidentally see him.

“Peter?” You asked and looked around. He slid down on a web the way a spider would and stopped once he was at face level with you.

“I should probably be going now, little lady. Crime doesn’t take a night off.” He said in a his Hulk Hogan voice.

“Oh no. Do you have to go use your great power to take care of your great responsibilities?” You teased him and held your hands over your heart.

“I get the sense you’re teasing me.” Peter said in his usual voice.

“What gave you that idea?” You smiled sweetly and rested your hands on his upside down face.

“My spider senses tell me everything.” He returned to his funny voice to mask how nervous he was to be this close to you. You laughed at his joke and stroked his cheek under the mask.

“Will I see you again, Spiderman?” You asked in an exaggerated swooning voice.

“Only if you commit a crime.” He played along.

“Then I simply have to give you something to remember me by.”

“Your handkerchief?”

“Something better.” You laughed softly as you rolled his mask down to just under his nose. With just his lips exposed, you brought his face closer and kissed him, upside down in that alley way. Peter kissed you back and felt his heart explode in his chest as everything felt right again. It felt just as perfect as the first kiss and both of you knew that something big had just begun. When you pulled away, you rolled his mask back down over his face and smiled to yourself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.” You whispered in his ear so no one passing by could overhear his name. Peter felt his face blush beneath his mask and felt grateful you couldn’t see him.

The next day, Peter didn’t see you at your locker before his first class but saw you sitting at your usual lab table when he walked in. He smiled at the sight of you and felt relived that not only was you relationship back to normal, it was elevated. He sat beside you and you exchanged timid smiles. You still felt a degree of awkwardness around Peter as you didn’t know how things were going to be from now on. There was a substitute teacher today instead of your usual professor and when she passed around a work sheet for everyone to do, she accidentally skipped you. When Peter noticed this, he put his hand in the air.

“Could we please get another worksheet? My girlfriend didn’t get one.” Peter said once he was called on. The substitute had no idea why several people turned around to look at you and Peter with surprised faces, or why you looked like you’d just been asked for your hand in marriage.

“Oh, sorry. Here you go.” The sub said and handed you a sheet.

“Thank you.” You said before sneaking a glance at Peter. He was quietly doing his work, not making a big deal out of what he had just called you. You, on the other hand, were internally flipping out over the label.

“You just called me your girlfriend.” You leaned over to tell him.

“Did I?” He smiled cheekily but kept doing his work. You grinned at how nonchalant he was being and went back to doing your work.

“I’m sorta seeing someone.” You said without looking up.

“What? Who?” Peter dropped his pencil ad his attention whipped to you.

“Spiderman.” You causally shrugged and kept doing your work. Peter chuckled in relief and picked his pencil back up.

“Oh. Well I wouldn’t want to come between the two of you.”

“Thanks. We can still be friends though, right?” You asked and looked over at him.

“Yeah, totally. Just friends.” He nodded in agreement as he leaned in. You leaned the rest of the way and kissed him for just a moment before pulling away. You were both smiling and blushing messes as you went back to your work.

“What did you get for number 6?” You asked after a beat of comfortable silence.

“I got pH = 12.”

“Fuck.”

“What?” Peter wondered.

“I got “J.D. Salinger” for some reason.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23

@geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @​ ​ @fiantomartell

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife

@saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @seasidecrowbar

@lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess

@horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x Reader ~ 2/6

Read part 1 here

Cw: angst, jealousy, pining, weed consumption, 18+ content MDNI

Wc: 4.4k

You didn’t see Eddie the rest of the day, but you did happen to run into Steve and yell at him for the most impromptu timing in the world. It has been a scorcher of a day, so you were elated that today was swim day.

The sun was sweltering; Robin and you had to triple-check that your campers had all the water-resistant sunscreen. You had worn your bathing suit under your jean shorts and Camp Murdock t-shirt, but you couldn’t take the sweaty cotton touching your skin any longer. You had to strip off the clothes that were sticking to your skin.

“I think I might die if I don’t get in the water now!” Robin complained. You could see her usually pin-straight bangs getting wavy from the sweat on her forehead.

“Same here, I can’t believe I didn’t think to put my hair up this morning." You could feel the sweat dripping down the base of your neck.

As soon as you reached the dock, you took charge and ensured that everyone in your group was fully aware of all the water safety rules. You then conducted a final head count of all the campers before jumping into the water yourselves.

Robin was the first to take the plunge, diving headfirst into the refreshing water. Despite the initial shock of the cold water, she resurfaced with a huge grin on her face, her teeth chattering with excitement.

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” she squealed.

“Oh god, I don’t want to do it now,” you laughed as you stripped off your jean shorts.

Just as you were removing your clothes, Eddie, Steve, and Ashton came running around the corner, unable to stay in the heat themselves. Due to the hot weather, Eddie tied his long hair back, and his light grey shirt turned dark grey from sweat. They had just changed into their swimming trunks.

“Hey, look, the girls,” Ashton pointed to you and Robin.

Eddie had stopped dead in his tracks as he watched you. It was like you were moving in slow motion.

You still were taking your shorts off. Eddie watched as your peach of an ass bent over to step out of your shorts, your back arching as you peeled off the t-shirt. You wore your red bikini with little white hearts matched perfectly with the little heart inked into the skin on your right butt cheek.

Hold up, what? Eddie’s brain short-circuited. You not only have a tattoo, but an ass tattoo?

“Dude, hello, Earth to Eddie,” Steve was snapping his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

“ Huh, what?” Eddie reluctantly peeled his eyes away from you.

“You’d been staring at her for like five minutes, bro; just ask her out already.” Ashton laughed.

“Was not five minutes"

“So you admit you’re staring?” Steve smirks.

“How could I not? Don’t you have eyes?”

The guys laughed, and Eddie continued his gaze back to you when he saw Billy approaching you from the right. Eddie felt a sudden possessiveness over you when it came to that guy. He never liked Billy from the start. His off-putting comment and how he looked at you like he wanted to eat you were unsettling.

Eddie didn’t waste another second thinking about it; he started to run towards you, kicking off his slides and tossing his shirt before he grabbed you by the waist and flung you both into the water, laughing.

-

You weren’t paying attention to the boys behind you; honestly, you had no idea they were even there. You were too focused on working up the courage to finally jump in. Robin tried to convince you when you heard your name being called.

“Bambi, damn girl, you’re looking hotter than last year.” You turned and rolled your eyes immediately. Out of all people, Billy. You watched in disgust as he was ogling you while licking his lips.

Before you could even reply, a force pushed you into the freezing water.

When you breach the surface, you profusely try to catch your breath, looking around to see what the fuck just happened.

Your first instinct was to blame Billy for pushing you in.

“What the fuck Coyote?!” You were freezing, and the drastic temperature change had your teeth chattering.

“It wasn’t me!” his hands when up in defence.

You believe him, so you start looking around because he couldn't have, and you swore another person had jumped into the lake with you.

“Sorry, Princess. As your knight, I must fulfill my duty to you to save you.” A whisper echoed in your ear.

You let out a small scream, startled by his closeness, but when your heart settled, your flesh rose in goosebumps, not because of the cold of the lake water. Strong hands touch your waits turning you around to face your ‘saviour��

“Oh, my hero,” you fake swoon.

Eddie laughed, his head tipped all the way back so his hair was touching the water, his thick neck exposed, sending you into a daydream of leaving many a mark on that neck, but your thots were halted by Eddie pushing down on your head, dunking you back into the water.

“Edward Munson, I swear to God!” You screamed when you popped back up out of the water.

“Oh, my government name? You wound me, Princess.” He grabbed his chest like he had a knife in his heart.

You started to swim towards him, but the cold lake water was starting to numb your limbs. You couldn’t move fast enough; your teeth were still chattering, and Eddie could hear how cold you were.

“I'm sorry, Princess. I need to redeem myself.” He reached out and pulled you into his body, wrapping his arms around the small of your waist.

“You better be.” You shivered.

“Come, let's get you warmed up in the sun.”

He hopped out of the water, not even having to use the ladder. He reached down, holding out his hand to help you out, but you yanked him back down, and he fell head-first back into the water.

Eddie could only hear your laugh when he broke through the surface.

“I guess I deserved that.” He shook his head like a wet dog.

You were already halfway up the ladder when you felt his gaze on you. Eddie watched as you climbed up; he trialled right behind you, giving him a great view of the tattoo he wanted to know more about.

You quickly ran over to the towel that had been warmed by the sun. Shivering, you crouched down and sat in a ball to cover yourself with the whole towel.

“Come ‘er Princess, let's get you warmed up.” Eddie sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders with his own towel to cover you both before he started rubbing his hands up and down your arms to help you get warm.

You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder. Between the sun and Eddie, you warmed you up in no time.

You were at peace, the smell of coconut sunscreen, the sounds of splashing in the water, the warm feeling you were getting because Eddie was not only touching you, but hugging you.

“There you go, your majesty, all better,” Eddie smirked.

“You’re really not going to give up this joke, are you?” You laughed.

“Not in a million years, Princess.”

-

You and the girls were busily getting ready for a cozy after-the-bonfire hangout with the boys in the mess hall. You were there setting up some snacks and drinks on the table, and the soft glow of the fairy lights hanging on the walls added to the warm ambiance of the room.

Meanwhile, Eddie and his cabin were chatting and laughing, looking forward to the evening. As the night grew darker, they realized it was already 10:00 pm, and they needed to do one last check on the campers to make sure they were sound asleep. Once it was all calre the guys made their way to the mess hall.

“So you and Julie seem to be getting pretty close.” With his flashlight under his chin, Ashton wiggled his eyebrows at Eddie. Eddie shoves his shoulder lightly, laughing in response.

“I don’t know, man. I know her from home, is all.” Eddie shrugged.

“Come on, dude! You totally couldn’t keep your hands off her at the lake today; I saw you,” Ashton accused.

“Well, have you seen her? And I think she has been flirty with me? I don't know...she confuses me,” Eddie admitted, thinking back on earlier this morning when he thought you almost kissed him.

It's not like Eddie didn't want to believe it, it's that he can't believe it. Why do you, out of all people, want to be with him?

“I would go for it, dude, trust me. She is my best girl-friend, and I shouldn’t say anything, so I won’t, but if I were you, I would ask her out.” Steve joined in.

“You shouldn’t say anything? What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked as they opened the doors to the hall.

“Sorry, man, sworn to secrecy, but trust me, bro.”

“Don't ever trust Moose.” Robin giggled, not knowing the context of the conversation.

“Hey, boys,” you smiled.

Eddie’s eyes met yours, and he smiled back, but his smile dropped when he saw Billy sitting beside you. Billy was like a mosquito who wouldn't leave you alone; he gave you no personal space even though you were seated at a twenty-foot-long picnic table.

He tried his best to ignore Billy; you had already said you didn’t like him, so why did Eddie feel jealous?

Instead, Eddie tried to focus all his attention on you, so he sat directly across from you. Eddie thought you looked cute tonight. Your natural hair was wrapped up in a messy bun, but shorter pieces framing your face.

You wore a heather grey Camp Murdock oversized crewneck sweater, blue and green plaid flannel pyjama pants, and pink fuzzy socks. He liked that you felt comfortable enough to not try hard like you do back home. Back home, he never saw your hair out of place or your outfit not coordinated. Not that Eddie didn't like that version of you, but he likes this version a whole lot more. It made you feel more real and less of this superhuman that the town dubbed you as.

“What are we playing today?” Eddie asked.

“A good old game of truth or dare,” Robin smiled.

“Oh god,” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. We have a little something extra to make it fun,” You smiled while showing the group the pre-rolled joint you pulled out of your pyjama pants pocket.

Eddie smirked at the thought of you, goodie two shoes, and buying weed. Then, his thought process changed… Who else would you get weed from if not him?

“The fuck you get that?” Eddie didn’t intend for it to be that harsh, but it slipped out like word vomit. Could this be trusted? How did he know it wasn’t laced or tainted.

“Oh, uh, I know a local guy.” Your smile dropped, and Eddie watched as you curled into yourself.

Fuck.

“Better be up to this guy’s standards,” Billy pointed to Eddie, only making it worse.

“You’re lucky I’m even sharing with you.”

“Let’s just start, guys, jeez.” Robin rolled her eyes.

You lit up first then passed it to Billy. Eddie seethed that he got it first. He almost grabbed it right from your hands but he knew he needed to control himself…

The game went on, and the typical stuff happened: streaking, truths about the first kiss, and chugging a combination of ketchup, mustard, and mayo. The joint was getting down to a nub, and it was really starting to take effect. The mood had been lifted, and Eddie noticed how you and the others were getting more giggly, whispering and plotting the next truths and dares.

Steve was up next, and he turned to you.

“Truth or dare?” Steve asks with a smirk.

“Truth,” you say confidently.

“Who was the last guy to give you an orgasm?” He gives you the biggest tooth smile.

Eddie’s ears perk up, his attention locked in. The bubbling feeling of jealousy almost formed again, but it disappeared as soon as you spoke your answer.

“No one.” You blushed.

“Come on, no one believes you, Bambi.” Steve retorts.

“I’m serious! Now shut up it's my turn.” You huffed.

Eddie was not surprised you’re a virgin; if you had slept with anyone, everyone in Hawkins would have known about it.

It sounds wrong, but Eddie was relieved when you said no one. Nobody would be able to please you like he could. The things Eddie wanted to do to you, worship you, take care of you…

“Eddie, hello! earth to Eddie!” Your voice snaps Eddie out of his daydreams.

“Huh? What?”

“Truth or dare,” you smile at him.

“Dare,” Eddie smirked.

“I dare you to kiss…Billy.” You, Robin, and Nancy burst into a fit of giggles like you’ve been plotting.

“I’ll kiss literaly any other guy. Try again, sweetheart.” Eddie sees you try to hide your smile at the pet name. Noted.

"Hey! What's wrong with me?"

"Everything..." Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Come here, big guy, let me plant one on ya." Billy began to chase Eddie around the room, and you, along with everyone else, couldn't hold in your giggles. It was really good weed.

-

The night rolled on, and everyone had to return to their cabins before you knew it.

“Well, boys, I am never skinny dipping at night again. I think my dick shrunk back into my body. Fuck, that lake is cold!” Ashton laughed.

“I never want to see those hairy cheeks again,” Eddie joined.

“I can’t believe what Bambi said, can you?” Steve piped up.

“About what?” Eddie asked.

“That no guy has ever gotten her off. You would think at least one would, you know” Steve exclaimed while brushing his teeth.

“Maybe that’s why she is acting like she has a stick up her ass; I can show her a good time, maybe replace that stick with mine, if you know what I mean.” Billy joked, cupping his crotch as he was getting his pyjamas on.

The joke wasn’t funny; the thought of any guy touching you made Eddie's knuckles go white. His face dropped into a sneer for a split second, but he caught himself. Fucking hell, Munson pulled it together.

“Shut up, dude. She wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.” Ashton laughed as he lay in his bunk.

“Oh yeah, we will see. She will come around.” He winked, and Eddie felt the s’mores in his stomach start to churn.

Eddie was about to let Steve know that there was no way on God's green earth that you had slept with someone, but his attention was shifted when Steve spoke again.

“Word is she likes someone,” Steve dropped casually as he climbed into his top bunk.

That caught the three men’s attention; they whipped around simultaneously, and all Steve could do was laugh.

“You guys are something else.” He chuckled and laid down to go to sleep.

Maybe Ashton was right; maybe his ever-growing crush on you was too obvious. Maybe he should dial it back more...

-

As the sun sets over Camp Murdock, the anticipation builds for the evening's main event - the camper's talent show. You, Eddie, and Steve have been chosen as the judges for the show, and it's an exciting responsibility. The venue for the show is the old barn on the property. You have carefully set up rows of chairs and cleared a decent patch of the floor to create a makeshift stage. The rustic and charming barn is adorned with twinkle lights that create a warm and cozy atmosphere. A folding table is placed before the judges, where they will take notes and make their final decisions.

As the kids prepare backstage, their nervous energy is palpable. The makeshift backstage area is just an old curtain hanging on a rod by the back right wall. You can hear the campers giggling and screaming in excitement and nervousness. Despite their jitters, they are ready to showcase their talents and make the night memorable for everyone.

You sat in the middle with Steve and Eddie on either other side of you.

“Are you going to strut your stuff up there later tonight?” you asked Eddie quietly, giggling.

To your surprise, he didn’t give you much of an answer, a grunt and a shrug of his shoulders.

That was weird; Eddie had been so warm yesterday. This was your first time seeing him today; maybe he’s tired?

You tried shaking it off, wanting to focus on the kids.

“They all did well. It was so cute to see them perform their dances and songs. One kid did a magic show, and another just showed off his rock collection. Ultimately, one of Eddie’s campers, who had a beautiful singing voice, won the talent show. As a consolation prize, everyone who participated got ice cream. After all the celebrations, everyone went to bed, and it was time for the counsellors to have their own talent show.

You're incredibly nervous this year because you have decided to do something bold. You haven’t told anyone about it, not even Nancy or Robin. It’s evident to anyone who knows you that you’ll be dancing tonight, but it’s usually a ballet number. However, tonight is different. You are determined to make your move and not waste more precious time.

You carefully rummaged through your bag, removing the skin-tight pleather black booty shorts and a shiny red, cropped tank top. You loved the way the two pieces hugged your curves, making you feel both sexy and confident.

Next, you moved to the bathroom and began styling your hair. You wanted to create a voluminous look, so you used a curling iron to add bouncy curls that cascaded down your back. You then applied makeup, starting with a base of foundation and concealer. You added smoky black eyeliner to your upper and lower lids and finished the look with bold red lipstick that made your lips pop.

As soon as you feel prepared and all set, you slip into your cozy grey sweatpants over your shorts, taking care to secure yourself from the pesky bugs outside. You then slide your feet into your sleek black dancing heels and grab your cassette tape.

Robin was the first to see you when you returned to the barn.

“Shut the fuck up; what are you doing?” she asked most affectionately. A growing smirk spreads across her face as you turn.

“You’ll see.” Your confidence was helping a little, but deep down, you were terrified. You’ve been so nervous you think you might be sick.

As the talent show kicked off, you were excited to spend the evening with Eddie, but he seemed distant. Despite your best attempts at conversation, Eddie remained quiet and disinterested in engaging with you. Later, when you tried to talk to him again, he brushed you off, leaving you feeling hurt and confused. You hoped that his behaviour was just a temporary mood, but the fear of failure lingered in the back of your mind. If the plan you had been working on together didn't come to fruition, you knew you would be mortified.

As the show went on, you unfortunately had the pleasure of going dead last. Eddie wasn’t a judge this time, but he was still sitting in the front row. Perfect.

As the host, Mike, asked for your tape to be put into the casket player, he saw your hands visibly shaking.

“Bambi, relax. It's just for fun; you do this every year. We all love your little ballerina stuff,” he smiled.

“Do I look like I’m dressed to do ballet— know what, never mind?” You didn’t mean to be snappy; Mike had always been nice to you.

As he walked out on “stage” to announce the next performance, you stepped off your sweats, pulled the zipper up the side of the black high heels and prayed that you wouldn’t fall flat on your face in front of Eddie.

“Last but certainly not least, we have a crowd favourite!” The audience, your fellow colleagues, clapped as you walked out. You heard someone whistle, most likely Robin and your stomach flip-flopped.

You walk out and face the back wall, standing in a bevel, arms hanging by your side, waiting for the chords to start.

The first notes of Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love dripped from the speakers.

Your body moved seductively once the music hit like you were in a trace performance mode.

Were you worried some of the other girls would call you a slut? Absolutely, but once the music started, all that went away.

You began dancing like you had when Eddie caught you in the studio that first day, but this time, with the hair, makeup, and shoes, you were more confident than you'd ever been.

A-way, way down inside

A-honey you need-ah

I'm gonna give you my love, ah

I'm gonna give you my love, ah oh

The rush of being on stage made you lose yourself in the routine, however the part you had been most nervous about was coming up.

A-way, way down inside

You stood facing the crowd with your head thrown back, your right hand ran down your stomach, grazing past the waistband of your shorts that hardly covered anything, down cupping your core, then slinked it back up again.

I'm gonna give ya my love

Your head snaps back up, and you took a slow strut forward.

I'm gonna give ya every inch of my love

another slow step forward

I'm gonna give ya my love

You reached your target as you slowly sank to your knees right where Eddie was sitting. Giving him a small wink before you whipped your hair, you looked back up at him through your lashes, and you saw his jaw was clenched, and his hands were balled up white-knuckling.

You reached up with a single hand and grazed it over his left thigh before slinking back down to roll away and get back to the rest of the routine.

By the time you had finished, you were out of breath. Everyone cheered, and a few whistles were made as you walked off stage, but when you looked around, Eddie was gone.

Your heart sank. The overwhelming feeling of embarrassment washed over you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

Of course, he wouldn’t want you in that way.

You were a fool to think he ever would.

You were naive to think changing your appearance to be like the edgier sexy chicks he probably goes for. You literally pulled a Sandy for Grease. You tried putting yourself out there, doing this dance, but now you felt the tears welling up; the lump in your throat grew. You felt like an idiot.

You needed air. You took off your shoes, put your pants back on, and walked out the barn's back door.

“Bambi, wait up.”

You turn to see Billy.

“Uh, hey,” You try to keep your voice as neutral as possible, forcing yourself not to let it crack.

“You were amazing up there!” He smiled and gave an encouraging hug.

“Thanks, Coyote, that's really sweet for you to say.” You sniffled.

“Hey, are you okay?” he pulled away to see your tears threatening to leave the rims of your lash line. “No, no, it’s okay. Don’t cry; everyone thought you rocked it!” He pulled you into another comforting hug.

This was the most genuine Billy’s been with you all summer. This was the Billy you knew and loved last summer.

“You really think so?” you ask trying to pull yourself together.

“Yes! Of course; what’s gotten into you?” He looked concerned.

“Nerves, I guess.” You try to shrug it off, but you can’t shake the feeling.

“Well you did amazing, you won!” He gave me a congratulatory kiss on the cheek; it was soft and hardly grazed your skin.

“Thank you.” You pulled him in for another hug. You just needed a friend right now, and I missed this version of Billy.

“You know there is another way I can make you feel better.” He chuckled.

“And the moment ruined, ugh. Why do you do that?” he laughed as you stepped away.

-

You found Cassie and the other girls back at the cabin.

“Hey guys.” You sniffled as you walked to your bed.

“Babe, you were amazing up there! Who knew you could move like that!” Clover cheered.

“You are one hot Mamma!” Nancy giggled.

“Bam, what’s wrong?” Robin asked after you hadn’t really said anything back. She came to sit beside you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“It’s silly…” tears threatening to run down your cheeks once again.

“Hey, it’s just us." Nancy reached over and touched your hand.

You let out a heavy sigh.

“I feel like such an idiot! I did that whole thing to get Eddie’s attention, but he was gone before I even finished dancing.” You hid your face in your hands, too embarrassed to look at your friends.

“If you ask me, he looked like he was trying to contain himself. Girl, you did that to him with no warning! Hell, even I wanted to jump your bones just watching you.” Robin giggled.

“Really? Do you think so? You don’t think he was mad or put off? I saw his face—he looked annoyed. Like he was uncomfortable. Even earlier, he was cold to me.” You grabbed a tissue and blotted away your blackened tears.

“Nah, Bams, he looked like a man trying not to pop a boner, especially when you touched his thighs! Holy shit, I thought he would blow his load right there.”

Nancy managed to pull a laugh off of you.

“Thanks, guys; I think I'll feel better in the morning.” you sighed and gave them each a hug, then got ready for bed.

Next chapter

Tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @guineveresghost @ezzynf @oneforthemunny @paybacksawitch

[b0r3dtod3ath]

"Dude, why are you so nervous?"

Formula 1 masterlist

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Maybe third-wheeling wasn't that bad at the end of the day.

A/N: Reader is loosely inspired by "Succession".

An awful feeling of third-wheeling followed Lando as he sat next to his friends - Charles and Pierre and their girlfriends. The group sat in such a way that the two drivers were next to each other as well as their girlfriends which left Lando in a weird position where he couldn’t really hear much. He was invited by his friends to watch a tennis match during Wimbledon but he imagined it differently. In a sign of defeat he pulled out his phone trying to kill some time till the match started. Slowly the crowd was gathering but there was still some time left. His friends didn’t notice his unusual lack of engaging in a conversation so he got lost in his thoughts while looking like a hurt 5 year old with an ipad. He looked away from the screen when you sat next to him. A polite “Hello” left your lips as you adjusted your sunglasses. He was looking at you in a pure shock, not a word left his lips as he stared at you. “Sorry, is this seat taken? I must have messed up the numbers” his astonishment led you to believe that there was a mistake. He snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat. “No, no. I just-, You are Y/N Y/L/N”. You laughed at his comment. Did he feel starstruck? “And you are Lando Norris. I’m a fan. It’s nice to finally meet you.” a big smile formed on your face as you put out your hand for him to shake it.

Little did you know, you were Lando’s secret celebrity crush. He would never think he would be able to meet you. You were a daughter of a ceo of a global media and entertainment conglomerate. Born to take over your fathers business. You grew up in a wealthy environment filled with important people. Duh, you were even invited to a royal wedding. You were well educated and relatively down to earth. And he? He was just a Formula 1 driver - in his opinion - nowhere near your level of powerfulness. Just a young, chaotic kid. So when you sat next to him he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. 

His friends noticed a new person sitting next to the group. “Look at him, no wonder he isn’t saying anything” Pierre laughed. “Our Landou is in love?” said Charles, earning an elbow nudge from his girlfriend.

“So, are you here alone? How long are you staying in England” Lando tried to start a conversation once his nerves calmed down a bit. You were usually seen with your family so the question wasn’t so weird. “Yea, my family is in France now. I’m actually staying for a week. I’m going to watch you race in Silverstone” you smiled. Lando wished you hadn’t worn sunglasses just so he could see your beautiful eyes. “Wait, you are going to be there? God, now I feel pressured that such a pretty lady will be watching me compete.” You laughed at his remark but he was actually a little nervous. A small conversation carried on. “God, you are so hot, I, I I mean you must be so hot because of your outfit” you wore a navy suit paired with a white shirt. “Haha, It isn’t that bad.” you said while Lando’s face was turning red. 

The match went pretty smoothly but Lando didn’t remember much of it. He focused only on you. He started noticing little details about you - the way your lips would turn up when your favorite player served or how you sighed every time they had lost a point. 

When it finished he had gathered all his courage and asked you for your number. He had never felt so nervous talking to a girl. Your presence made him feel like he was not enough for you, yet he still wanted to try. “Um, could I maybe have your number. So i could give you an exclusive tour around the paddock of course” He said as you gathered your things. “Oh, of course, that’s so nice of you! I have to go now but I wanna say thank you because I really enjoyed your company. I hope you will call me soon.” You winked and gave him a piece of paper with your number on it. He gladly took it from you already thinking of framing it once he got home. 

Two days later, on Tuesday Lando finally stopped panicking, well… kind of. He texted you knowing that he would stutter while talking on the phone. He reread the message ten times before sending it to you. He tried to keep it cool - he asked if you wanted to play golf with him the next day and maybe go for lunch later - nothing crazy but he hoped you would appreciate it. It took you a few minutes to end Lando’s suffering by responding with a simple “Sure, just send me the address :))”. 

You thanked your driver and got out of the car. You saw Lando smiling from ear to ear. “Hi, nice to see you again” you went to hug him as only one word managed to escape his lips “Hey”. Lando had to admit that the hug calmed him a bit, it reassured him that you are feeling safe with him. “I have already rented the golf cart” he said and you started walking towards the vehicle. “That’s nice, let me drive. It’s your day off”. “Haha I’m going to be your passenger princess” he laughed “Yes, a pretty passenger princess. We need to get you a crown”. Golf went on smoothly, a natural conversion flew well with occasional stops when either one of you got too focused. “You play pretty well. I thought I was gonna make a move and try to teach you but it seems like I’m the one needing tutoring.” he started getting more and more comfortable with you, not even trying to mask his crush on you. You chuckled a bit “Well I started playing when I was a teenager. When did you start?” “Oh, just a couple years ago. Actually, I used to think golf was boring but my friend Carlos forced me to play with him and I ended up loving this sport.”

Lando drove you to a country club restaurant. “Hello, I have a reservation under “Norris”” Lando said to the man at the door who later led you to a table on a patio. Lando pulled your chair and allowed you to sit first. A true gentleman you thought. “Jeezz, you even made a reservation. You didn’t have to, we could always go somewhere less fancy. I mean, I like it here but you didn’t have to, really” you said in amusement. “Well, I wanted to take you here. There’s not a lot of people so we can be comfortable and the view is amazing” the last part of the sentence made your heart skip a beat - you knew he wasn’t referring just to the beautiful garden. You sat there for a moment, getting lost in each others’ eyes until a waiter came to hand you the menus. You ordered the food and drinks and started talking. You have watched a few videos online of him before. Well, maybe a few was an understatement but either way you noticed that Lando was still a bit nervous. You tried to loosen up the atmosphere a bit by telling funny stories and it took a while but it worked. He started telling you about his karting days and his friends on track. “Yeah, and that's how I met Max, didn't leave the best first impression haha. Oh god, the sun has set. What time is it? I shouldn’t be keeping you for too long” and just like that the panic in his behavior came back. “No, no. It’s fine. I can call my driver anytime so don’t worry about that.” he relaxed a bit at your words “I can drive you home if you are okay with that” he insisted with a sparkle in his eyes.

You sat in Lando’s Mclaren as he randomly said “We should get a dessert. What do ya think?” “What do you mean?” you, thrown off guide “I know an ice cream shop nearby, they make handmade ice cream it’s amazing. You should try it”. It wasn’t a long ride. Lando opened the car door for you as well as the door to the shop. “Thank you.” you smiled. You two looked at available options and you got on your toes, touching his arm for support, and whispered “What flavor should I get?”. He instantly blushed at the lack of space between you and you touching his arm made his heartbeat go faster “Maybe vanilla” he said with a sudden wave of confidence. You quickly ate the ice cream and made your way home.

Lando once again opened the door for you. “Thank you. I had a lot of fun.” you kissed his cheek. He literally turned into a mess - he didn’t know what to say. No one ever saw the sweeter, softer side of you so he felt honored you let him see it. He finally snapped away from his thoughts as you were already walking to your front door “Goodnight!” he said just before you reached it “Goodnight!” you waved at him.

requests are open :)

[gatorbites-imagines]

hope ur having a good day! i wanna ask for some Eobard Thawne x Male Reader where reader is just a normal dude. Like just some guy, i think itd be a funny concept :]

Eobard Thawne x male reader

Headcanons

I love Thawne sm, he’s my bbygirl. He’s a lil crazy, but that’s okay.

Now Thawne is literally just the biggest hater in all of existence, like God damn. He runs on hate and spite, and I appreciate that, because its relatable.

Youd most likely have met after he’s been in a fight with some hero or similar. Maybe he crashes into your yard or into your apartment. You don’t know much about heroes, you know the main ones sure, but you don’t keep track of all of them.

So, when you see someone who looks like a yellow flash in your yard bleeding out, you just kinda shrug and drag him inside, patching him up to the best of your ability. You get the head part of his suit off him and your pleasantly surprised at how red his hair is, you’ve always liked redheads.

You know nothing about speedsters’ preferences for food, and your used to cooking for just one person and have meal prepped for that. But you pull out some snacks you got laying around and a bottle of water, and put it on table beside Thawne, where you flopped him onto your couch.

When Thawne wakes, he’s immediately ready to fight, until he notices he’s just laying on someone’s couch, in a random living room who knows where. He’s honestly confused, because he’s a well-known villain and was in the middle of a fight.

He almost jumps up to throw hands when you walk into the room, eating whatever dinner you had prepped the day before. Imagine his surprise when you just go “hey, your awake. I found you in my yard, you good?”

Insert very confused Thawne, he tries to pull the whole, evil villain thing, but you are so chill and unamused that he just ends up giving up. One way or another you two just end up sitting on the couch and watching the newest episode of your current show.

It becomes a thing honestly. In the beginning he shows up after fights for you to patch up, even though you know very little first aid, but whatever. You put up with it, because if that’s the payment you have to pay for a hot redhead to sit shirtless on your couch, so be it.

Thawne won’t admit it for a long time, but he starts to enjoy your company quite a lot. Maybe it’s the fact that you couldn’t care less about him being a villain or what he does that has heroes after him. Or maybe it’s the fact that you don’t put up with his shit either.

The first time you scolded him and called him an idiot, his heart stuttered, and he won’t ever admit but his face got almost as red as his hair.

You tell him with a flat expression that he’s eating you out of house and home, because of speedster metabolism, so Thawne starts bringing groceries and helping around the house.

At some point you two realize he’s just kinda moved in, like a big street cat you’ve been feeding on your porch, that walked inside and just never left again.

You two never outright say you are dating, it just hits Thawne one day that you guys are cuddling on the couch and watching movies, and that you guys give each other kisses before you go to work, or Thawne runs off to be a villain like normal.

Its honestly quite domestic. I could imagine Thawne taking care of housework since you are the “breadwinner”, since you are the only one with a legal job. Sure, Thawne steals to get money, but he also starts stealing stuff you guys can use around the house.

Imagine Barry and the other speedster’s confusion when Thawne steals a brand-new dishwasher, or a whole porch set, chairs, tables, and all.

You never stop Thawne, since being a villain is kinda his whole thing, you just tell him not to do it with you around, so you have plausible deniability. You do appreciate the gifts he brings you too, but you never mention how most of the shirts he brings you are a little tight, you know he likes looking at you.

Thawne goes a lil crazy when you come home after work wearing your slacks, your button up and your tie. He always wants to be the one to undo your tie so he can pull you into a kiss.

He gets you expensive accessories you can wear to work, think watches that cost more than what you make in six months, tie clips, rings, etc. Everyone at your job honestly think you have some super rich sugar daddy.

You are both quite happy with your relationship, and theres nothing better than coming home to Thawne in an apron, cooking up in the kitchen. He always purrs when you come in through the door and swaggers over, drapes his arms over you, and asks about your day.

After some time, you two get engaged, it just kinda happened. You guys already act like a married couple, but one of you would have proposed. If it was you, you’d pull out a ring on a date or just during one of the evenings you are cuddling on the couch. You would use your family’s heirloom ring.

If its Thawne, he would go out of his way to make a huge deal out of it. hed rob the highest security jewelers in the world, or force the best jewelry maker to make a custom ring.

When the heroes show up its most likely Barry, maybe some of the others since Thawne has been MIA for a long time. They assumed he was planning something big, but he’s been busy playing househusband for you this entire time.

When they learn he’s trying to get a wedding ring they all thing “wait he’s got a lover???”. Thawne is gone before they can catch him though.

The heroes assume the worst, and assume his partner is as much of a villain as he is. Then Barry gets a wedding invite, written by you, since Barry’s been Thawnes nemesis for who knows how long.

Barry has always been a good guy, and since the invite specificlally says not to start anything at the wedding, he goes. Barry goes with the plan to scope out Thawne and his partner, but also to support him cuz its Barry.

Then he sees that Thawne is marrying you, the most normal guy he’s ever seen. When he talks to you, he realizes that you truly love Thawne, and though Thawne doesn’t say it with words, it’s clear the way he looks at you that he’s completely smitten.

The wedding goes great, and Barry is a big supporter, especially when he realizes Thawnes villainy has gone down a lot because he’s so happy with you, that he doesn’t wanna put you are risk.

It ends up becoming a peace thing, Thawne doesn’t do anything huge and Barry wont lock him away for life or have him thrown in the phantom zone. Thawne wont target Barry’s family and alike, and Thawne gets to stay with you.

[humiliationstories124]

So since my Halloween experience got over 200 notes, I was required to send in another experience I had…I hope it doesn’t get as many notes, or maybe you might not even publish it! There is somewhat of a non con element to it, but i want to stress that the guy was a good friend of mine and I am truly ok with what happened, but I was extremely embarrassed in the moment.

In college, I had a friend who introduced me to some kinky stuff. I trusted him a lot and liked him. One day I was hanging out at his place with him and his friend that I didn’t know too well. I was wearing gym shorts, a shirt, a snapback, and shoes and socks. We were sitting around drinking beers and chatting the three of us. Somehow the fact that I can do a handstand came up in conversation and they asked me to demonstrate. I did but due to the beer and my shirt falling off it wasn’t very good. My friend’s friend suggested I just take my shirt off, and my friend agreed and quickly stripped my shirt off me. I redid the handstand and held it longer. I didn’t know where he had put my shirt so i just chilled shirtless for the rest of the time. A beer or two later, My friend mentioned he had gotten some bondage equipment and asked if i wouldn’t mind modeling it off for him and his friend. I had been tied up before by a guy and since it wasn’t a sexual thing this time, I had no reason not to.

My friend showed me his set up, a chair with arm cuffs attached and a set of stocks attached to a nearby table slightly higher than the chair. When I sat down and put my feet in the stock holes, this had to effect of raising my feet and making my shorts slide down my thighs slightly. My friend tied my hands to the cuffs, which were angled so my arms were away from my body, while his friend closed the stocks over my feet. I tested out my bonds and realized my range of movement was severely limited. I looked up at them, expecting them to be looking at how my range of motion was limited or maybe how the arm cuffs looked or something. Instead…

“So bro, are you, um….ticklish at all?” My friend asked. I realized what his plan was and freaked out, thrashing in my bonds to try and prevent that from happening to me. Unfortunately for me, I am extremely ticklish everywhere on my body. I can’t stand being tickled. It’s true torture!

“Um…no im not tickliyyyyish at ahhhhhhhll” I said as i felt his friend’s nails drag along my helpless soles. He laughed at my reaction and dragged his nails down my soles a second, third, fourth time. I squirmed in my bonds but there was nothing I could do to shield my feet from his fingers, and each time he went down my foot I got closer and closer to letting out a gigantic and uncontrolled laugh.

“Cmon guys don’t tickle ahahahah tick hahahahaha” I couldn’t get my sentence out as my friend tickled up and down my sides, much more firmly and aggressively than his friend was doing on my feet. I tried to close my arms but the cuffs held them away from my body, adding to my vulnerability. All i could do was do my best not to react and hope they’d get bored and let me go. But then I heard…

“Hey, cover up his feet with this,” and after a moment I felt baby oil being slathered onto my feet. My friend’s friend held up a small hairbrush for me to see. I looked into his eyes in panic and said “No cmon bro PLEASE don’t use that Im serious Im so ticklish bro I can’t take it!” He listened to me for a moment then took the brush and dragged it mercilessly over my helpless sole, tickling over and over while I began laughing uncontrollably.

The sensation on my sides and feet was too intense and I realized to my horror that I had a hard on. I hoped they wouldn’t notice, but as some point my friend’s friend stopped tickling me and said “Um dude are you not wearing underwear?” I looked at him and saw that he was looking up my shorts and could see my cock and balls.

“I…uh…cmon bro don’t look!” I blushed beet red and stared at the ceiling, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“Oh I’m looking dude, you have a nice tool and a great bush!” his compliments made me blush even harder.

“Do you want to tickle him there?” My friend asked his friend. I glared at him and was about to demand he let me go, but before I could, his friend said “YES!” enthusiastically. My friend picked up another tickle toy, a stiff feather, and handed it to his pal. My friend held my shorts open so his pal could have easier access to what he wanted to tickle. I soon felt the feather sliding along my balls and along my shaft. I screamed in ticklish agony and my legs began shaking but due to my bonds I couldn’t prevent him from tickling me there, and I realized that my erection had gotten even more firm from the feather tickling, and I am sure he saw this too.

They laughed at my predicament, and my friend was enthralled with my reactions to the feather tickling my genitals. He guided his pal too, saying things like “Make sure to get along the curve of his balls” then giggling hysterically when the new sensation made my laughter go up an octave. They both noticed when a spot of precum appeared on my shorts. They teased me about it and asked if I needed a break. I said yes and began to beg for one but they just kept tickling.

After a few minutes the guy holding up my gym shorts let go, and the guy with the feather grabbed hold of them himself, while the first guy began tickling my feet again. I couldnt take this sensation and told them that they had to stop or i was going to reach the point of no return.

“Bro, you’re really gonna cum on yourself while we are tickling you like this?” feather guy asked

“YES if you dont stop!!” I yelled. They both laughed and increased intensity of their tickling, the guy with the feather dipping down to my taint and running the feather along the underside of my balls, and after only a few seconds of tickle torture on that specific spot…I made my O face involuntarily in front of both of them and shot my load into my gym shorts. I have never been more embarrassed. I was so ashamed not to be able to control my body’s reactions in front of two friends.

[aurumacadicus]

My partner dumped me yesterday, so could you please if you have time or inclination today, write a fluffy or sexy V-day prompt with WinterIron? I need some serotonin.

That's crummy my dude. Anyway Tony's bodysuit is this one.

--

Tony had been freaking the fuck out since January fourteenth. JARVIS had asked him if he wanted to make plans for Valentine’s Day, since they needed to be made well in advance for such a popular holiday. Sure, it would be around four months that he and Bucky had been together, but was that early to do Valentine’s Day? He could admit to himself that he was pretty damn committed, but he knew that he went all-in way too quickly. He just wasn’t sure that Bucky was that committed. He’d said ‘let’s see where this goes’ and while he seemed to have fun, Tony couldn’t tell if that was in a ‘Tony’s comfortable enough around me, hot, and amenable’ way or in a ‘hey, this could be forever’ way.

He split the difference and bought the biggest Whitman’s Sampler he could find (Bucky and Steve had a fondness for the boxes, even if the recipes had changed from 1912), a nice watch, and an upgrade for his bike. Bucky still got finicky going out in crowds sometimes, so he wasn’t going to try and take him out on one of the busiest nights of the year. Chocolate, dinner in, and maybe some wine to end the evening with would be fine for a four-month relationship. Probably.

Tony had also splurged and bought himself something lacy. He and Bucky hadn’t been intimate long, just a couple months, but he thought, if there was a time to surprise him, maybe it would be on Valentine’s Day. If Bucky didn’t like it, he could play it off as holiday fun and then hide all his other lingerie, he figured.

Bucky had said he’d be busy until dinner time, but that was fine. Tony had to work that day, too, and if he was focusing on paperwork, he wasn’t focusing on whether he’d done too much, or too little, or the way the lace was pressing into his skin under his suit. It was fine. Everything was fine.

Except, when he was putting the bags of takeout on the counter to plate up, then he got self-conscious about the way the lace felt over his hips, around his chest. This was still new, he reminded himself, rushing back to his bedroom. Four months! What was he thinking?! He was gonna scare Bucky off. Sure, Bucky was open to new things in the bedroom, but maybe Tony had to ease him into full lingerie sets that cost more than Bucky’s entire wardrobe. Besides, he didn’t even know if Bucky liked Valentine’s Day. He’d had plans today, after all. Maybe he was only coming up for dinner because Tony thought it was special.

Okay. It was going to be fine. He just needed to change out of his suit and lingerie. He could put on one of his band tees and jeans. Bucky said he liked it when Tony looked… comfortable. Was that a compliment, Tony wondered, movements slowing to a stop. Was it a good thing to be called comfortable? It must be, he thought, hands slowly returning to the buttons of his shirt. Bucky always smiled slow and syrupy at him when he said it. He obviously liked it. Right?

…Right?

Tony hesitantly glanced in the mirror. He’d decided on a lace bodysuit, figuring a one-piece would draw attention away from the mess that his chest was. It also helped hide the fact that his abs maybe. Weren’t as defined as he would have liked anymore. He unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down around his thighs, turning to look at the back. Well, at least his ass still looked nice, he figured, frowning. Maybe he should go with the red silk thong instead of the whole… lace ensemble. He could try again when they were further into their relationship, probably. The thong would be fine. Everything would be fine.

“Tony,” Bucky said, sweeping into the room.

Tony spun toward him, surprised, mouth dropping open in shock. Bucky did not typically barge into his personal quarters. Usually, he sent a message via JARVIS or text. He still hadn’t gotten changed. And now Bucky could see everything, from his open shirt to his pants around his knees.

And Bucky appeared to be looking, if his wide eyes and gaping mouth were anything to go on. He was holding a large bouquet, Tony noticed distantly. Pinks and reds and pops of orange and yellow. He hadn’t gotten Bucky any flowers. Should he have?

“Well,” Bucky said, dropping the bouquet and approaching him with long, sure strides.

“Bucky?” Tony asked nervously, shuffling backward.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to take a romantic bath, but I see you’ve got the romance covered,” Bucky continued, as if he hadn’t heard him.

“You’re coming at me very quickly,” Tony squeaked, nearly tripping as his feet got caught in his pant legs.

Bucky’s face took on the focused expression he got when he was fighting, eyes sharp, every movement carefully calculated—predatory came to Tony’s mind. “And you’re going to be coming very quickly,” he told Tony seriously, and Tony squawked when a moment later, he found himself sailing through the air toward his bed.

Then what Bucky said actually registered, and he only had a moment to screech before Bucky leapt on him like a wild animal.

[dmwrites]

Martyn was yelling. Martyn was yelling and coming at Impulse with a desperation and fury that rooted him to the spot. It didn’t make sense, Martyn was… cheating. Scott was dead, gone in a flash of fire that Impulse couldn’t even begin to comprehend. And he was facing down a man who was all greens and yellows and reds and-

There was a slice through the air, a pain so brief it might have been imagined, and then-

“I’m so proud of you, homie buddy!”

“For goodness sake, Skizz, put on a shirt!”

Impulse tried to extract himself from Skizz’s chest, but his friend only pulled him closer.

“Let him breathe a little, Skizz, he just died, after all.” Tango’s voice floated up somewhere to the left of him, and he felt a pat on the back. “Nice work, man, second place ain’t too bad.”

Skizz let Impulse go, finally, and Impulse was instantly being congratulated by his other friends, Scott giving him a distracted smile, Pearl sticking out her tongue before hugging him tight.

“You’re a good guy, Impulse. Thanks for sticking by me.” Etho came over and clapped Impulse on the shoulder, a small smile in his voice and a twinkle in his eye. “You fought well.”

“Thanks, man.” Impulse beamed at him. “You did too. Not washed up at all.” He chuckled, and Etho grumbled good-naturedly before wandering back over to The Clockers.

Skizz was standing next to him still, almost vibrating with energy.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Impulse told Skizz. “You should be congratulating Martyn when he dies. Or Scott, for that matter- there was no way I would have won even if we’d all played fair.”

“Come, walk and talk with me, buddy.” Skizz said, floating in the direction of the TIES tower.

They passed by the small group around Grian, who were watching Martyn below, still alive and on the ground. He caught a bit of conversation as they passed.

“We should probably slash-kill, G. Game’s over.”

“No, let’s leave him for a moment.” Grian mumbled, watching Martyn with a troubled look on his face.

The tower was empty, and Skizz and Impulse perched on the edge of Skynet, watching the other dead players float around.

“Dude, I said it once, but I’ll say it again- I am so proud of you. You’re like a warrior, man!” Skizz crowed.

“But I didn’t win!” Impulse exclaimed, although he couldn’t help but smile at Skizz’s enthusiasm.

“What- are you kidding me, dude! I told you- all of you before I died- team TIES gets top three, and you got to second place!”

“Well, second is a poor replacement for first…” Impulse grumbled.

“You know what, dude?” Skizz said, snapping his fingers, “I never did get to your affirmation, did I?”

“No, but I’m not, like, offended.” Impulse replied.

Skizz cleared his throat. “Impulsesv, my bestest friend-”

“You don’t have to do this, I’ll be okay without my affirmation.” Impulse interrupted.

“Shut your face and let me say nice things!” Skizz waved his hand dramatically at Impulse to make him shut up. “Impulse, my friend. You know, when I was doing these affirmations, I had to study people, even the ones I knew before. But you… it was easy to come up with the words. Perseverance. Focus. God, man, look at what you did. You wanted to win, and the way you hunted, killed… it was incredible. You never stopped, and I could tell how badly you wanted to win. You put your mind to it and you just go, man. If death herself hasn’t stopped you, I’m sure you would have walked right through Martyn’s axe to get the win.”

Impulse laughed. “I think you’ve been hanging out in the afterlife for too long, man, you are making less sense with every sentence.”

“I’m just proud of you, man.” Skizz smiled.

“Careful, Skizz,” Impulse teased, “people are gonna start thinking you’re some kind of angel or something, with how nice you’re being.”

“Ha! Whatever, dude.”

Skizz and Impulse started trying to elbow each other off of Skynet, laughing and waiting for Martyn’s life to end. The sun was setting, and there was that bittersweet taste of second place that settled heavy on Impulse’s tongue. Not good, not bad, but at the end of the day, there were always people who loved him, so it didn’t really matter.

[anarcoqueer1994]

"Go to prom with me?" He says softly, contently holding Steve, their bodies tangled together on his bed. His voice almost sounds shy, uncharacteristically anxious to even be asking.

Steve, head on Eddie’s chest, as he traced invisible lines on his torso, stiffened slightly. God, he would love to go to Eddie’s prom as his date. His own prom, he brought some girl he never spoke to again after that night. He would love to go with someone he loves, like half the straight couples. But he knew they couldn't. Boys like them didn't get to go to school dances together in small town, Indiana. "Eds... we can't." He says sadly, like he knew he would be disappointing Eddie. He tries to lighten the mood. "Besides, didn't peg you as someone that would want to go to prom."

"Honestly..." Eddie sighs, "You're right. A few months ago, you wouldn't catch me dead at prom, other than to sit outside and make a few quick sales. Never had anyone I really wanted to dance the night away and shit, with. But now," Steve can hear a smile in Eddie's voice. "I have someone that I want to do things like that with, princess. You know, do all the cheesy things, flowers and corsages, dancing together under those stupid crepe paper decorations hanging from the ceiling, kissing you softly as we slow dance to a song I hate. " There is a l giddiness in Eddie's voice as he talks, wanting to go with Steve so badly. And the fact that Steve knows they could never really go together, kills him. Sure they could go with Nancy and Robin, and everyone could use each other as beards, but they still couldn't be open like other people.

Eddie seemed to sense the tension in Steve’s shoulders and could practically read his mind. "Don't worry, Stevie. I'm happy just being with you, I know we couldn't really go together. Wouldn't be safe, I'm not that naive. Just thinking out loud..." He squeezes Steve tighter, seemingly leaving the conversation there.

But Steve couldn't stop thinking about how excited Eddie got talking about going to something like prom. And he knew he couldn’t give Eddie that. But he was determined to figure something out that was better.

--

It was the Saturday night of prom. Steve was supposed to pick Eddie up for a movie. Eddie was waiting in the livingroom with Wayne. About 6:30, there is a pound on the door before it just flies open. Eddie assumes it's just Steve letting himself in. He is confused instead by the sight of Nancy, hair and makeup done, wearing a poofy light pink dress. She is carrying a garment bag with her.

"Nance? What are you..." He starts, completely unsure of what to make of what is happening.

"Come on, Eddie. Steve and Robin will be here soon and you don't even have your tux on." She says, not doing anything to alleviate the confusion. Nancy simply makes her way down the hall to Eddie’s room. Wayne smiles from his chair, obviously in on whatever is going on. When Eddie looks to him for clarification, he just shrugs his shoulders and goes back to his newspaper.

"Eddie! Come on!" Nancy yells from his room, prompting Eddie to run down the hall to meet her.

When he gets in there, she is already pulling out a fancy looking suit.. but he doesn’t hate it. It had black pants and a black shirt, but the bow tie was red and so was the velvet jacket. She can feel him staring so Nancy just says, "Don't laugh, Steve picked it out for you when he went to rent his tux too."

Eddie can't help but smile. Steve saw this and thought of him. "I wouldn't. I'm kind if into it. But... I still am confused on what's happening." He puts his hand on the back of his neck.

"It's prom night, Eddie. Steve and Robin are getting ready and then they are picking us up." She sounds exasperated, like it should be obvious.

"Okay, Wheeler, I get that. But in case you forgot, I'm dating a dude. Also, you're dating a girl. We can't really walk into Hawkins's gym with them on our arms, can we?" He says sarcastically.

Nancy shakes her head, trying to hide her amused smile. "Don't worry about it, okay? Just get ready." She hands him the suit before leaving to give him privacy before he can press anymore.

Eddie reluctantly listens to her, slipping on the tux that seems to fit him perfectly. He looks in the mirror, feeling a little out of his element but still liking it. He does decide to add a chain to his pants and ditches the bow tie when he can't get it tied. He doesn't really own dress shoes, so he opts for black boots instead. Finally he ties his hair up in a lose bun with few stray pieces framing his face. He doesn't know what Steve has planned but he wants to look good.

He makes his way to the front room to find, to his "horror, " that Wayne had dug out the old camera, aiming it at him when he walks in. "Come on, man. What are you doing?"

"You think I'm not going to take pictures of my kid going to prom?" Wayne shoots back. And Eddie can't argue with that, can't help but smile when Wayne snaps a picture.

He sits by Nancy on the couch, but it isn't long until there is knocking at the door. Wayne opens it to let Steve and Robin in. Robin looks beautiful in a little one sholder blue dress with a poof on the shoulder, hair teased, and make up done. She instantly makes her way to Nancy, smiling as she does.

But Eddie can't focus on them, not when Steve Harrington is standing in front of him, pulling him up from the couch. He is wearing a very traditional black and white tux, with a red bow tie. As usual, his hair is perfect. He has a rose boutonniere pinned to his jacket and is holding another in his hand. He is staring at Eddie with the biggest smile.

"You look beautiful, Eds..." He says softly like they were the only two in the room. The girls were too wrapped up in their own conversation to even care. Eddie feels his cheeks turning red. It does not matter they have been dating for two months, he still gets butterflies whenever Steve stares at him like that.

"Thanks, princess. So do you. You look really hot, actually." He smirks, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, careful not to crush the boutonniere in Steve’s hands as he does.

Steve is blushing as he starts to pin the almost matching rose to Eddie’s jacket, except with one small difference. On the stem is a tiny black bat lapel pin. "Do you like it?"

"Yea, I love it, baby." Eddie smiles before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to Steve's lips. As he pulls away, he says, "But can you tell me what is going on? Nancy wouldn't tell me anything."

"Good, she wasn't supposed to. " Steve just smiles before pulling away, lacing his fingers with Eddie’s before pulling to the door, obviously not answering either. Before they can leave, Wayne stops them. He makes all of them take a million pictures, all posing in those silly prom couple poses... and Eddie is beaming through each and every one.

When they finally leave, everyone refuses to tell Eddie what is going on. Steve had made them promise not to ruin the surprise until they got to where they were going.

What Eddie does not expect was to pull up at Steve's house or to see so many cars there. Before Eddie can get out, Steve is out and goes to the other side of the door, opening it for him, Nancy doing the same for Robin. Nobody mentions that it's Steve's house, leaving Eddie even more confused as they walk to the door.

Everything clicks when they step inside. Eddie can feel his mouth drop open. All the furniture from the open living room/dining room had been pushed away into another room, except for the table, where there were some pizza, chips and punch. The room was dark, but in the corner sat one of those plastic disco light balls flashing colors throughout the room. Hanging from the ceiling were crepe paper decorations. The stereo was play generic pop songs that Eddie "hates." On the wall read a poster Hawkins's "Gay" Prom '86

But that wasn't the most shocking part. The room was filled with at least 35 people. Jonathan(brown suit and his camera) and Argle(in a powder blue tux) were there , talking, as Jonathan pushed Argyle's hair behind his ear, standing way closer than they would in public. Corroded Coffin was there. Gareth and Jeff were there with their girlfriends, obviously preferring to be with their friends, than regular prom anyway. Plus, technically Gareth wasn't a senior. Jared brought his boyfriend, who, to Steve's surprise, was a swimmer that used to be on the team with him.

More than that, the kids were there since they were high schoolers now too. Dustin is dateless, so he is manning the fruit punch/DJing. Max, El, and Lucas are all dancing together, while Mike and Will awkwardly try to not look like huge doofuses dancing together. Eddie thinks it's cute to see.

The biggest surprise, though, were a few random people from school and their dates. Being queer in a small town, you tend to know the others. There was, of course, Vickie and some girl she was dancing with from Eddie’s first period math class. There were also a few random juniors, sophomores, and freshmen, all here being unapologetically queer.

Eddie didn't realize he had been staring until Steve grabbed his hand and stepped in front of him. "What so you think?" He says shyly.

"I...I...love it." Eddie stutters, still dumb founded. "How did you do this?"

"Just had the kids and Nancy and Robin reach out to anyone at school they knew were... you know. I figured there had to be other people who wanted to go to prom but couldn't, not really. Not with the people they want to." Steve smiles and Eddie swears he has fallen even more in love with Steve. Nancy and Robin have made their way to the "dance floor."

"You're amazing, sweetheart. Thank you. " Eddie's eyes are glowing as he leans in to give Steve a little kiss. No one around them bats an eye.

They spend the night dancing together and just enjoying themselves with the others. Steve "requests" I'd Die for You by Bon Jovi and sings it at Eddie as they dance. They all slow dance to "True Colors" by Cyndi Lauper (Robin's song to Nancy). Robin and Nancy "win" prom queens. It's honestly one of the best nights of Eddie’s life, and he is so grateful for Steve.

And the next year, they keep it going, opening up a secret queer prom for kids at the high school. It's a tradition. And now, in 2022, 36 years later, it doesn’t have to be a secret anymore. Hawkins's still has a queer prom, and the Hawkins's High guidance consoler and his rock star husband still chaperone it(grant it, in a much bigger venue than Steve's living room).

[blond3ang3l]

Risotto! X tattoo artist reader!

This for my moot @rousseau-vargas since we are the biggest risotto lovers🙏🏽

“What do you mean you signed us up for a damn con? You want me to work for free? You’re out of your mind Micah.”

“Oh cmon dude, just this one time. If we do the most tattoos we’ll win hella money! Please, I will even pay you extra this week.”

You couldn’t help but kiss your teeth in response. This is ridiculous. A last minute tattoo con? You had plans today and now you had to cancel all cause your dumbass boss liked to wait till last minute. It annoyed the hell out of you when he did this cause it wasn’t the first time either.

Once you got to the con it wasn’t much better. It was fucking packed with people. And some of the people were dickheads. You had clients wanting big ass intricate designs when you literally still had a million people to do. It was hot and crowded and for some damned reason everyone just wanted to be a dickhead.

You were already 2 hours in and had done a little over fifty tattoos by yourself. You felt the pressure on you because you were the head artist of your shop. You had been going this since you were just a dumb teen doing sick and pokes on yourself. After you got done what felt like the millionth tattoo you were rightfully annoyed. You still had 3 more hours left and you felt like you couldn’t catch a damn break.

When you heard someone sit in the chair for about the umpteenth time you were ready to lose your mind. That was until you seen the man sitting there. Casually dressed in all black the first thing you noticed was his tattooed eyes. The black where white should be and the red where his pupils should be. His shirt white hair covered my a black cloth clashed against his tan skin. He looked like a fucking freak, and by gods you were so thankful he came to you instead of your coworkers.

“So I’m guess you want a tat?”

You cleared your throat when you remembered you were staring. You were met with a shirt grunt and a nod. His voice was so god damn deep and gravely it made no sense.

“Right so what do you want exactly?”

He passed you his phone showing you a design of three different knives, they weren’t exactly simple but it was something you could do relatively quick.

“Where do you want them?”

“Right here.”

He lifted up his and pointed right to his peck. You thought you were going to die there on the spot. You could see the many other tattoos that littered his body. Specifically his sleeve peaking out while he lifted up his shirt.

While you worked on the stencil you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at him. He was weirdly quiet compared to everyone else there. And while you worked he barely even flinched. It was surprising since most of the when you tattooed men they would need a break every ten minutes. But he just sat there. He was like a ghost, not moving a single muscle. Hell he didn’t even listen to music to distract himself.

Once you were done he used your mirror to look at the final result. To say he was impressed was an understatement. This was probably his favorite one yet. He gave you a small thanks before leaving like it was nothing. When you went to wipe down the chair for the next person you saw he left you a tip. A gracious one at that. He was so fucking weird and off putting. And you were making it your mission to make him yours the next time you see him..

[baocean]

FRIENDS DON’T - JJ MAYBANK

Part 5 of my country series 😫

Summary: you weren’t exactly certain on how best friends acted around each other, but you knew it wasn’t how you and JJ did

Pairing: JJ x kook!reader

Note: it literally would not let me link the song, if you’re interested in listening as well the song is ‘Friends Don’t’ by Maddie & Tae

“No, sorry John B, I promised y/n I was gonna go to some event with her tonight.” JJ told his best friend, walking into an extra room in the chateau to look for a change of clothes.

“Dude, what the hell? You promised me we were going to the boneyard though!” John B followed him, throwing his hands up in protest.

“We’ll go another night, JB. This is more important.” JJ faced John B, giving him a apologetic look.

“You’re seriously choosing some bitchy kook event over a party with me?” John B was still putting up a fight as JJ threw his shirt off and replaced it with a white button up.

“Stop, dude.” JJ shot John B a warning look, making him back off.

You walked into the chateau at the same time, in a pretty mid thigh length white dress that made your tan skin shine.

“Y/n, that you?” JJ called out, running into the bathroom to look for a pair of khakis. He swore he left them in there.

“Yea, it’s me. Hey, John B!” You smiled at your brunette friend when he walked out of the room.

“Thanks for stealing my friend, y/n.” His lips were in a thin line, but you knew he was kidding.

“Sorry, I just needed a date.” You shrugged your shoulders, ducking your head into the room, speaking of your date.

“Couldn’t have asked Pope?” John B’s eyes narrowed and you laughed.

JJ walked out of the room, wearing a completely different outfit than you left him in two hours ago when you went to get ready yourself. You blushed.

“Hey, ready?” You asked and he nodded, the red reaching his cheeks as well. John B watched you two, mouth wide open.

JB wanted to say something to you two, you looked like middle schoolers seeing their crush at a school dance. He knew then you guys weren’t just friends.

“Let’s go.” JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him, peaking around at John B, watching him shake his head.

That night, the two of you were standing across from the table from one another, watching each others every move.

You had already gotten pulled away three different times, random friends asking you what kind of nerve you had bringing JJ to an event like this.

You didn’t care what anyone thought, JJ was being an amazing date tonight. He was your friend just as much as they were.

JJ had a glint in his eye and you were sure you had the same look. He smiled at you and your lips curved up as well, but no words were said.

JJ had been pulled away from you by Pope and you and Kie were off in a pretty blue gazebo, when two girls passed you, sneaking words to each other about your date.

Kie was still talking to you, but when you heard his name slip out of those girls lips you tried to find his blonde hair in the crowd. You felt sparks in your fingertips when you found his eyes already staring at you. He smiled, you smiled back.

“Y/n, are you still listening?” Kie asked you, putting her hand on your shoulder, you turned to her and nodded, mumbling an apology.

Two nights later, your phone was ringing at one am. You turned over and groaned, but your heart did a flip as you read JJ’s nickname in your contacts.

“J?” Was all you said when you picked up.

“Hey, did I wake you up?” His voice was low. It gave you chills.

“No, what’s up?” Your voice was a dead giveaway that you had been asleep. JJ noted what your sleepy voice sounded like.

“Just thinking about you. Wanted to say hi.” Your stomach sunk to your feet, a smile crept up on your lips.

“Hey.” You breathed out, not sure if he had even heard you.

“Can I pick you up?” He asked you. You weren’t sure what made you say yes, but you did. Your parents would quite literally kill you if you snuck out, and if they found out you snuck out to see JJ Maybank? You might as well dig your own grave. You still said yes, though.

When driving you home that night in the Twinkie, JJ made two wrong turns towards your house.

“Whoops! Looks like we’re adding another…seven minutes to our trip. Keep telling me about your story.” JJ looked over at you, giving you a smile.

You knew JJ was doing it on purpose and you were flattered by it. He would look over at you as your hair blew in the late night wind. He thought you didn’t notice, but everytime he looked over at you, your smile got a little bit bigger.

When JJ finally pulled into your driveway, the sun was almost coming up. He put the Twinkie into park and sat back into the seat, peaking over at you.

“I had a lot of fun. I’m glad you called.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking back at him.

He leaned in, but didn’t make any other mood than that. “I’m glad you picked up.”

The pogues, Sarah, and you had driven up into Nags Head to a bar that John B really liked.

You had vouched to be the designated driver that night, but JJ got completely trashed.

As the six of you were walking back to your car, JJ pulled you back from the rest of the group.

“Are you okay?” You asked him when he didn’t say anything after pulling your arm.

“I gotta tell you something.” He pushed blonde hair behind his ear.

“What’s up?” You replied, heart dropping when JJ grabbed onto your hand.

“I think I love-,” JJ was cut off by your friends calling for you two to hurry up.

When you looked back at him, he dropped your hand and shook his head, starting his drunk walk back up.

He was the last stop when dropping everyone off. JJ got out of your car and walked no more than twenty steps when you turned your car off and jumped out.

“J! What were you gonna say in Nags Head?” You asked him, still quite a few feet from him.

“Nothing. Something stupid probably, I don’t really remember.” He waved it off, kicking the dirt beneath his feet.

You stood there, keys in your hand, watching him watch you. He held a guilty look on his face. In all the years you’ve known JJ, you knew when he was lying.

“I don’t believe you. What were you going to say?” You asked him again.

“Seriously, it was nothing y/n. Goodnight.” JJ really was sobering up fast. He was probably already stone cold sober.

He knew him almost confessing his love to you tonight was easily on a top fifty list of stupidest things he’s ever done.

It wasn’t too fifteen, because JJ has done some pretty stupid shit, but it was still an easy top fifty.

He wanted to tell you but he knew you didn’t love him back. He knew your parents would never approve and that you’ve been set to marry some kook business man since you were old enough to walk. He knew you didn’t love him the same way he loved you.

“Are we friends?” Your question left him confused.

“Yes?” He answered, watching you stand there next to the hood of his car.

He stood there for a few more beats, and when he turned around to walk inside, you called out.

You knew what he was going to say just a few hours before. You knew the three words that were slipping from his lips. You mustered all your courage into three words. Three stupid, silly words that might ruin your entire friendship between the two of you. You told yourself it was worth it.

“I love you, too!”

He spun around so quick he thought he was going to fall.

“I love you, too.” You said again, only this time is was more of a whisper than a shout.

You thought his smile was brighter than any star you could have pointed up to that night.

When he took four big steps towards you, you leaned up on your tippy toes to meet him, your lips forming around his.

His hands came up to your face, leaning his forehead against yours as he gave you kiss after kiss.

“I love you.” He smiled into another kiss.

…..