#you guys don’t understand I love him so much I feel like I am going to explode

[ikbitchssss]

I Just Want Your Heart (Daryl x Half-Walker!Reader)

Warnings/Tags: Major Character Death, Angst, Cussing, Blood, Violence, and Normal TWD stuff. If anymore, please tell me and I'll add it!

Season: In the 30 days between season 3 and 4.

Words: 3K

Plot: Daryl finds a walker, but she can talk. She’s always chewing on gum, and her body is a bit rotten. It’s like she was half dead. He goes ok to help her and take care of her, not knowing why. Until one day, he does something he might regret.

A/N: Hope y'all enjoy;3

Daryl Dixon was a man who did not fall in love with anyone. He was a rough around the edges, redneck, quiet, distant, guy. He did not fall in love. He loved only one person, his brother. Lost together somewhere in an apocalypse world and treated him like shit most of the time sure, but he did love him. As much as he wouldn’t admit it because Merle would just scoff and roll his eyes.

Daryl Dixon was not a man of groups. He was a part of one, only because he had to. Merle said it was because they needed him, but Daryl had a feeling that it was because Merle needed them. Daryl didn’t do groups, but he understands the importance of them. As long as they left him only he was okay.

Daryl Dixon was not a family man. He never wanted a family. His only brother was now dead. He didn’t need a family. Sure, he had a small care for the kids in the group, and didn’t want them to die. He would protect them, but it wasn’t his family.

Daryl Dixon was a lair. He was a family man, these people at the prison were his family. It was his group. He lied about it himself and others about those things for sure, but he never lied about not falling in love. Sure he’d love, in like, a family way. He’d never fall in love though, he’d never allow himself to.

.

Rick had ordered Daryl to go out and get more fuel for the cars. They were low and needed more for runs. 

Daryl got in a trunk and rode up to a few big ass rich people houses he’d seen a few weeks ago. They had a lot of cars and trucks in the neighborhood, meaning a lotta fuel if no one raided it already. In fact, a few houses were having parties, so there were more than usual for bug neighborhoods.

He pulled up to the first house and went to go get the fuel out of the cars and trucks. Using the classic suck on a hose until you feel like passing out method, he got nothing. Hence the sucking too long. He decided he’d check the houses later if he had time and moved on to the next set of cars and trucks. These ones look promising, and were very promising. Fuel came pouring out like the rain, he filled two gallons worth of gas from four cars and one truck. 

He put those gallons back in the back seat, and went to the truck bed to grab more fuel cans. However, something stopped him, a loud screaming noise. He grabbed his crossbow and looked around for the source. He heard giggling and saw the house it was coming from.

He slowly approached the home with extreme caution. He turned around the halls that lead him to a bedroom. He could hear the smacking of gum coming from the room. A girl was sitting there on the bed. A girl was graying skin, dead walker eyes, and a few broken limbs. You.

You casually popped the bones back into place. You looked over to him and smiled, he drew his crossbow up and pointed it to you.

“Woah! I’m not gonna bite you, I am not like the other ones.” You made a joke out of it while putting your hands up. He was confused, what the hell is happening? Why is a Walker, a dead woman, talking? And why isn’t he shooting it’s head off?

You got up and walked over to him, still with your hands up. Your smile faded and you looked a little nervous. “Look I was freaked out and confused when I woke up and was… somewhat alive. But I don’t hurt people, and it still hurts when you hurt me… so please just let me go…” You begged for your life as if you were human. Daryl didn’t understand, you aren’t human, you barely look human. Well, you didn’t look like a walker, you still had flesh, but still, you looked dead. It freaked him out.

You knew he was freaked out, it was all over his face after you said those words. But honestly? Daryl was more than just freaked out, a small part of him was intrigued. Which wasn’t like him. He wasn’t an intrigued guy, but he wanted to know you, know what happened to you.

“Why’d ya scream?” He asked gruffly. You didn’t expect his voice to be that deep, he must smoke something. 

You wave it off and shrug. “Walker grabbed my leg, forgot they don’t bite me anymore.” He was even more intrigued by this, you were immune? Or just half turned. He knew the group would shoot you as soon as you got close because of what you looked like. He’s had personal experience in that at the fram, but he wanted to know you. 

“Look… I’ll show you the best water and food and well anything you need! In this area and neighborhood… just let me live… please.” As you begged him again he put his crossbow down. He told himself not to, to put it back up, kill you, threaten you. But he didn’t. He just nodded and let you lead the way to show him things.

.

You were a talker, and walkers didn’t even look at you when you were being so loud. Daryl found it strangely interesting. He’d never been interested in anyone really, let alone a woman. Yet, there was something about you that made him wonder and think more than he ever let himself before. 

You were showing him a map of the area and places that hadn’t been raided already. “Now there’s a horde here, but when you go just tell me about a week before and I can steer them clear from your path!”

He looked up at you, an expression on his face that could only be described as a little confused. “Now why would ya’ help us..?” He asked, quietly, you guessed he wasn’t much of a talker. 

“Meh! If we are neighbors I have to help you right?” You said it like it was obvious. Like people just help one another in these conditions. “It’s what good neighbors do!” You exclaimed, Daryl just nodded. It wasn’t the old world normal people knew any more, but you act like it. Then again, Daryl didn’t know much of normal, so who was he to judge? Besides, the help would be nice.

You altered your smile, your big grin going away into a slight smile. For a dead girl, you seemed happier than most people. Maybe that was the secret, being dead. But Daryl had people, he wasn’t going to leave them. They needed him just as much as he needed them.

After it was all said and done Daryl went back to getting fuel. You stayed around just kind of watching him. It made him nervous, and he felt a strange new feeling he hadn’t felt before. He wished he could place it, but after years of controlling his emotions, they were all over the place. He didn’t know how to pen point the feeling he felt.

After he was all done with one car, he’d move onto the next one. You’d follow him, just standing around, watching. It almost creeped him out at some points, almost. He wasn’t used to people watching him so closely. Maybe this is how people felt about him. But earlier you were so talkative, and now you just watched, quietly.

He put the last two gallons of fuel in the truck and turned around after closing the door. He jumped a little when he saw you behind him. It wasn’t noticeable to you, just him. You just smiled and put a new piece of gum in your mouth.

“I have to… leave.” He mumbled walking over to the truck door. He glanced back at you, seeing that you were no longer smiling. You stood back, looking back at your house.

“I’ll be back…” He said. He thought he was stupid for saying it, but when he looked up and saw your smile, those thoughts faded into nothing. He pulled out of there immediately, why does he feel this way? Questions plagued his mind as he drove back to the prison.

.

He pulled back into the prison and didn’t say a word to anyone, not even to Rick, who’d asked him many questions about the area. He just helped unload his truck and stayed quiet with the small nod a few times. As the sun started to go down over the hills and people started to go inside, Daryl soon followed them. He then walked back into his cell and pulled the thin sheet as a door over the opening.

Daryl put his crossbow down with his stuff. He took his shoes off and threw them next to his boots. Beth found him “nice” sneakers to wear. He only wore them because it made her happy. He took off his vets and threw it on the top bunk

He laid down on the bottom bunk. He was on his back trying to sleep, but he just kept thinking about you. He knew it was a bad idea to think about you this much, but he couldn’t control himself anymore like he used to. You were talkative and almost happy, even though you were dead. 

He has so many questions. Why’d you look freshly dead? Why’d you chew gum? If you bite him, will he turn? Can he even get these answered? Probably not, he’d probably not even go back. A broken promise he gave you based on impulse.

He wasn’t like this. He didn’t let himself be like this, he wasn’t weak. Yet, he was thinking about you. He just wanted to see you, but he won’t let himself. He’s not going to let himself. But then again, what if you didn’t like him?

He switched onto his side and buried the side of his head into his pillow. He groaned, he wasn’t going to sleep with his thoughts racing like this. Why was he so obsessed with you? You weren’t anything other than another traveler he met, a very interesting undead traveler he met. He needed to let it go. 

If he just doesn’t go near the houses, he’d be fine!

.

Unfortunately, Rick wanted to go to the houses to raid them. They needed more food and supplies. He was planning everything out for a few days. He told Daryl to lead the car and truck on his motorcycle. 

He led them there but was far ahead. You were out killing walkers and humming. You turned and saw Daryl, you dropped your knife and ran up to his bike. “Hey! You’re back!” You said joyfully. Daryl looked worried.

“My group, they’re gonna be here soon. Ya gotta hide…” he said. You looked confused, as if you didn’t understand that his group could hurt you. He turned over to the car and truck coming in and shoved you in the pile. He killed a walker and put it on top of you. 

You started to breathe heavily. You started to get scared. It reminded you of your death, but Daryl put you here. And you trusted him. He’s the only thing or person that hasn’t tried to kill you.

Daryl said he’d raid your home, as he did half of it already. The rest of the group went into other houses. He waited till they were out of sight and he picked you up from the ground and walked into the house.

“I said hide, girl.” He shoved you on the couch. And sighed. He picked up a few things and shoved them into his bag. One of two lighters, a water bottle, a few canned foods, and a knife. He then sat down next to you. “Won’t take it all from here...” he mumbles looking anywhere but at you.

You just grabbed some gum and chewed on it. Not paying much mind to him. 

“So. Your group. How come I can’t meet them?” You asked like it was urgent, like somehow you needed to meet them right now. 

He mumbled a little to himself before answering, “I don’t know how they’ll react to ya,” he paused and looked at your eyes, yellow and bloodshot, “hell I still don’t really know what to think…” He said with a grunt. You giggled, giggled at him.

He looked confused by it. “I’m a walker, who would know what to think?” You explained. He smiled a little and nodded his head. He guessed he understood that, who would react well? 

You got up and walked up stairs, you came back down with a bag. “Here. My old bag of supplies before I turned, enjoy your raid of my neighborhood stranger.” She smiled and he noticed that you weren’t chewing gum anymore, why?

He looked down and opened the bag, it was full of food and maps. It had a few knives too. He looked up thank you but you were gone, just like that. He missed his chance to talk to you. He just sat there, what was he meant to do? Go look for you? He had a job, raid this place.

He got up and looked through the house a little more, he found some things others could use. He guessed you didn’t use soap or cleaning things, you were dead. He had your bag and another full one of needs and others of wants. Beth and Carl requested things since they are still too young for runs.

He walked back outside and put the stuff in the truck. Rick and Michonne got done with theirs and walked over, same with Maggie and Glenn. A few new guys as well, but Daryl didn’t care to know their names. He should really learn your name.

Also, you weren’t as talkative as last time… why?

.

The next time Daryl went on a hunt he stopped by that neighborhood, you were nowhere to be found. You just disappeared into thin air. At a blink of an eye you were gone when he saw you last and you never showed up again. What happened? Did you not like him? Lots of why’s with you.

He looked up and down the neighborhood, but it was no use. He didn’t want to give up. You were so; no. He needed to stop, he couldn’t let himself get this close to you. It almost felt like… love.

What if you were dead? 

That thought hit him when he sat on his bike. Dead. No? You? But it was completely reasonable. You were half walker, you almost blended right in. You could’ve easily been killed by someone. What if it was someone in his group? What if his family killed you? 

No. They aren’t his family and you are nothing to him. You talk together only a few times, yet it felt like he knew you longer. 

He got on his bike and headed back on the open road. He was going to the prison again, he got a few rabbits that would be fine for now. 

The breeze was cold, a nice contrast to the hot sun that beat his pale skin to a tan. He always loved taking these bike rides. They were peaceful, especially when he was stressing about stupid things. No more of that, but there was something he the road

He pressed the brakes, hard. You stood in the middle of the road, scared. He got off his bike and ran to you. The whole, not stressing about things always lasts him two seconds.!“Are you okay?” He said, you hugged him.

“Hey stranger..” You just sobbed into his neck. His beautiful, fleshy, biteable neck. You pushed him away. He was confused, why? Did you really not like him? Is what he feared right?

“I’m going to bite you… I want to bite you… I keep wanting to bite people… I’m freaking out! Gum doesn’t help anymore!”

Daryl grabbed your hand. “Then let’s find some asshole to cure that hunger.” You looked at him like he was crazy. Hell, he knew the plan was crazy, but losing you was crazier. He couldn’t lose you, he loved you. Goddamn it, he fell fast and hard, but he loved you. He really did.

You pulled your hand away from his. He wanted to run and hug you, make you stop running from this, he can handle a bite. “It doesn't work like that! I just got hungrier..” You mumble, you tried it already. It didn’t work. He grabbed your hand.

“I’ll find a way. I need you…” he mumbled that last part but it made your heart break. It happened in three swift moves. He kissed you, you bite his lip, you pull back. It was all so fast that you nor Daryl had time to realize what happened. What you both did. A kiss and a bite.

“Stranger-“ 

“Daryl.”

“Daryl… I, you’ll turn…” You mumble, you’d be crying if your tear ducts worked. Goddamn it, he had a family, you were going to kill him. He nodded and laid his head on yours. “And I’ll be yours…” he mumbles. He knows he’ll miss his family, it’s why he sheds a tear, but he wants to be with you. Maybe you’ll both be half dead. Maybe you’ll find a way to live. Maybe his family will accept you guys.

Daryl Dixon was a man of love. Fast, messy, sweet, heartbreaking love. He’d give the world, he’d give himself, for the one he loved. Over and over and over again. He was a lover, because he allowed himself to fall in love. He was all the things he thought he wasn’t, because he was a liar. But he would no longer be a liar, because he knew he was these things. He was just Daryl Dixon. A very half-dead and in love Daryl Dixon.

[mikanotes]

— DON'T STRAY TOO FAR

banda x gn!reader - 1.2k words

genre: established relationship, suggestive

warnings: mentions of death, killing, manipulation, aib stuff, old kinda edited! some kissing leaning towards suggestive!!!

synopsis: Banda Sunato misses his lover. Why does he miss his lover?

author’s note: season 3 he's the main antag trust . i miss him a lot

Banda was intrigued when he noticed you began ignoring him. It didn’t take a genius to understand it had to do with the game you were both participating in, especially considering it was a Hearts one.

But his curiosity and amusement turned into annoyance after six hours. Turns out Banda Sunato is not half as patient as he himself believed.

You walk right past him at least fifteen times. He tries telling you what the symbol on your collar is during each of the six rounds. He debates on distracting himself with something, like following that suspicious guy around and gaining his trust a bit more, and he does.

He does for three rounds more before he feels angry because seeing you walk around so nonchalantly without doing so much as looking at him makes him lose track of his thoughts.

Especially when he sees someone else touch your neck as they look at the symbol on your collar. He’s certain that’s the last straw, for him.

So he lasts nine hours without your attention.

“Hey.” he says quietly, coming up right behind you. You jolt a little and turn to look at him. There’s a mere second where your expression looks somewhere between startled and content and he’s sure you’re finally done giving him the silent treatment. But that look barely lasts long enough for him to feel any actual hope. Soon enough, you’re back to this neutral, stone facade of yours as you turn your back to him and walk away.

Nope. Not this time.

He grabs your wrist and pulls your back against his chest, swiftly wrapping an arm around you the moment you’re close enough. You don’t fight him back. “You’re not being very nice.” he whispers, tilting his head just over your shoulder. You turn away, as if trying to ignore him still.

“… I really don’t wanna talk to you.”

“You’re the one who told me communication was important in relationships.” he chuckles softly, letting you go but grabbing your hand instead. You step away and give him a glare, to which he responds with an innocent smile. “Am I wrong?”

He knows he’s right.

“Let’s communicate when we’re actually sure we’ll both be alive,” you respond with an annoyed tilt to your voice, “I told you Hearts games are a no, with us two.”

Ah, yes. He thinks he might be falling in love all over again. You may be doing this out of the goodness of your heart, out of pure fear of losing him— But if you are, it’s probably fifteen percent of the reason why. The eighty-five remaining ones are just the fact that you would choose your own life over his any day. But you’re nice enough to not want to get to that point. Just lovely. “My heartless lover, attempting,” he hums, stepping closer again— Just close enough not to invade your space again. “Do you really think we can’t both win this? Come on.”

You look away, irritated. He rubs your hand with his thumb slowly, tracing words into your palm. Your name. A plea to stop acting like this before he loses his goddamn mind. He isn’t sure what it is about you ignoring him that makes him feel so far away from his usual ‘sanity’, but he really dislikes it. He’s fine without you. Perhaps the idea of not having your attention on him is simply… Not right. It should always be on him, it has always been on him.

“Sunato.” you sigh. First name, he thinks, getting somewhere. He takes that as his cue and steps closer again. He says your name the same way you said his and gives you this soft, innocent expression of his. You look at him and he can see it in your eyes you’re trying not to break.

He moves just a bit closer. “I miss you.” he whispers. He tries to hold your waist but you move away right before he can, which leaves him stunned for a second.

His expression drops. “…You know me.” he says flatly, though his tone is as quiet as usual. “You know I don’t care that you’d kill me to survive.”

You look at him with that stern expression of yours and his gaze drifts towards your lips briefly. You’re gonna say something smart and clearly pissed off and then leave him again. You’re definitely gonna do that.

No. No you’re not. At least not that last part.

He half-listens to you as you begin to tell him to stop being so annoying for at least a day so you can focus on the game all whilst checking both sides of the hallway you’re in. Then he tightens his hold on your hand and tugs you towards a secluded area with him. You almost look hopeful.

“I’m going to kiss you. Okay?”

He gives you a long second and all you do is half-heartedly glare at him, so he grabs your face and pulls it towards his own. Fuck, finally. The feeling of your lips against his makes him sigh softly, a small smile forming on his features as he pulls you closer. He doesn’t think he could’ve survived longer without this. He remembers very clearly when he got addicted to you and every single thing about you. It makes him ten times weaker than he was when alone, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

You pull away after a while and gasp for air, grabbing his shirt at the same time. He laughs silently, eyeing your face. “Did you really think you could ignore me for that long?” he says, slowly moving the two of you until your back hit the wall. He leans closer to your face again but gives you time to catch your breath. “Did you?”

“Again,” you pant, pulling him in. He grunts but accepts the kiss, deepens it, even, and presses you closer into the wall. It feels so good having you in his hands, against his lips, pressed up to him. He breathes you in like you’re the oxygen he needs before pulling away, but only long enough to angle his face the other way to kiss you better. You make a soft sound that only sends his mind spinning and blood rushing to all the right places. Whenever he moves, you follow— Your desperation makes him grin. He almost feels like he needs you, too. Almost.

“You needed me badly,” he whispers when he finally manages to detach the two of you, and feels the heat of your gaze all over him, “So don’t let go of me. I’m counting on you to be the one to need me, live with me, and be the death of me.”

“I don’t wanna be the death of you…Mn…”

Another kiss, for good measure, then he’s leaning his forehead against yours. There’s something warm about the feeling of being close to you. He ‘loves’ you. He’s obsessed, if he’s to use the right terms– A long-term kind of obsession, one that runs deep into his veins. It’s as close to love as he can get. He smiles at you and chuckles softly, before looking over your shoulder. “Heart.”

“Heart.”

“It is time to make your guess. Please enter a prison cell. One person per cell, please.”

Banda pulls away and looks at you. “If you kill me, I won’t be upset.”

“I’d be. You better not be lying.” you say, gripping tighter at his shirt, just over his heart, before shoving it away slightly. You start walking off and he stares at the heart symbol on your collar. “... See you.”

“See you.” he says, like a statement. He will see you.

[uceyliyahh]

IMPERFECT FOR YOU

summary: Miyori and Jey were in a relationship for three years until she saw him laid up with another girl that wasn’t her and it broke her heart so she decided block him on everything and focus on her career until she gets a text message from him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4364

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Miyori

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @li-da-savage @ctinadiva @clubsoft

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @lilucey @usoinked @christinabae

@celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld

𝖈𝖚𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖔

uceyjucey, jazzyV, jonathanfatu, theshaderoom, and others liked your post.

miyorisworld: When He Sends U Money To Pay For Yo' Hair Appointment 😩🙂‍↕️ uceyjucey: anything for you baby girl 💗 miyorisworld: @ uceyjucey keep working hard papa 💋 jonathanfatu: she ain't playing around this time uce @ uceyjucey jazzyV: MAKE HIS POCKETS HURT DAMN RIGHT BESTIE jeyusofannnn: she's using him for money that's sad miyorisworld: @ jeyusofannnn honey I make my own money so you can move tf around with that jaidaparker_wwe: @ uceyjucey what the fuck? How come you can send her money for her appointments but not me? 🤨 theshaderoom: 👀👀 aaron_pierre1: oh nah

Read all comments.

OMNISCIENT Miyori was at her desk, reviewing her client files as usual, diligently jotting down notes on her iPad to ensure she was ready for her next appointment. In the midst of her work, she received a text from Jimmy and paused briefly to check what he needed.

Big Jim🫡 sent a message

Big Jim🫡: Mimi PLEASEE come get Jey he's losing his mind like deadass crashing out over here

She couldn't help but laugh at the message he had sent. Ever since Jey took her out on that special date and everything that unfolded between them that night, he seemed to be struggling with feelings of longing since he left.

She had him captivated once more, sharing intimate photos and videos while they were apart, and it was consuming him with longing.

iMessage 💬 Mimi💓: I'm not surprised I knew he was going to go crazy😭😭 Big Jim🫡: do you know I hear him moan your name whenever he's beating his meat like damn Mimi what'chu do to him? Mimi💓: I didn't do anything 🤷🏽‍♀️ just sent him pictures and videos to keep him company knowing how busy yall is I told you he has to work for it and deal with consequences Jim Big Jim🫡: I understand 100 percent but please can you at least calm him down or something he's like rapid dog right now Mimi💓: when are you guys off? Or have a day off? Big Jim🫡: this upcoming weekend after Friday Night Smackdown you got something planned? Mimi💓: something like that 😁 Big Jim🫡: you planning on coming to see him if im correct? Mimi💓: yes I am actually, I know papa needs his mama badly but I should make him wait don't you think? Big Jim🫡: shiii if I tell him that he's going to be pissed off even more Mimi💓: go on ahead and tell em Big Jim🫡: you is evil Mimi but aight Mimi💓: kk tell Trin I said heyy Big Jim🫡: will do ma'am

After she sent a message to Jimmy, she quickly received a text from Jey that made her laugh even harder at the predicament he was in, fully aware of how much he relied on her support.

Joshua🖤 sent a message

Joshua🖤: mamas I miss you so fucking bad

Miyori cherished this aspect of him, where he was vulnerable and pleading for her affection, just as she desired. It allowed her to take charge, showcasing her strength and authority, making it clear that she was the treasure he sought, one he needed to work hard to deserve.

iMessage 💬 Mimi💓: I miss you too big papa Joshua🖤: you keep playing games with me Mimi ion like that shi Mimi💓: aw is someone getting sexual frustrated with me?🤭 Joshua🖤: YES I am and you keep fucking playin Mimi Mimi💓: I told you, you have to keep working hard for this and for us to be together again and I think you're doing a good job Joshua🖤: so what that mean? Mimi💓: that means you get a surprise for working so hard Papa Joshua🖤: just wait Ouu just fucking wait until I have my hands on you baby girl Mimi💓: what'chu gonna do to me Papa? Joshua🖤: it's better to show you than tell you and no fucking runnin' you hear me? Mimi💓: mhm sure do Joshua🖤: send me some pictures please Mimi💓:

Joshua🖤 heart both attachments Joshua🖤: fuck you're so fucking pretty Ma Mimi💓: pretty for you Joshua🖤: mhm... Mimi💓: I gotta get back to work papa I'll text you later? Joshua🖤: aight then mamas I love you ❤️ Mimi💓: I love you too papa

Miyori smiled warmly as she heard a knock on the door, and she looked up to see Kelly peeking her head in once more. She gestured for her to come into the office.

"What's up Kelly?" She asked.

"You have a visitor, and he seems a bit angry?" Kelly said.

 "Did you get a name for this person?" Kelly nodded and informed Miyori that it was Aaron who was coming to see her, prompting a deep sigh and an eye roll from Miyori.

"Just bring him in here so I can get this over with." Kelly nodded in agreement as she followed the instructions, gently closing the door behind her. She couldn't help but wonder what he, of all people who had come to visit her, could possibly want after the stunt he pulled.

Was he feeling hurt because she was rekindling her relationship with Jey after he had put in so much effort to win her heart again, or was it simply jealousy that fueled his emotions? When she heard the door creak open, there he was, standing tall, his face set in a serious expression.

Was he feeling hurt because she was rekindling her relationship with Jey after he had put in so much effort to win her heart again, or was it simply jealousy that fueled his emotions? When she heard the door creak open, there he was, standing tall, his face set in a serious expression.

"Are you fucking kidding me Mimi? You're getting back together with him?" Aaron looked at her, curiosity evident in his eyes, as she stood with her arms crossed.

"Yeah, and what about it? Why does it concern you so much about who am I with? Does Normani know that you're here?" Miyori firmly held her position, expressing that she simply couldn't afford to waste any more time on this.

"What's the purpose for this? He can't be better than me ." She was in disbelief at the words coming out of his mouth; could he really be serious? "Aaron, please, Jey is much more better than you despite what he did we have history together that chemistry that you and I didn't have."

Aaron laughed softly as he walked back and forth, putting on a brave face while hiding his true feelings. Deep down, he felt a pang of jealousy that he was reluctant to acknowledge. It bothered him to see Jey effortlessly win her over, treating her to nice things and taking her out on dates, all the little moments he couldn't help but notice on social media.

She radiated a light he had never witnessed in her before, all thanks to Jey, who brought her joy and made her feel cherished. That was all she had ever desired, but if it wasn't with him, it simply wouldn't do for her.

"If you're done, you can leave I got clients coming in soon." She spoke breaking the silence between them.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me that you don't love that nigga Mimi tell me..." He exclaimed, clutching her arm firmly, which made her wince in pain. "Tell me that you don't love him after everything he has done to you." He gazed at her, his deep-set eyes seeming to penetrate her very essence.

Miyori was fully aware of her deep love for Jey; she just wanted him to put in the effort to earn it. In contrast, her feelings for Aaron were nonexistent, especially after he betrayed her trust by cheating and expressing his boredom with her. As she gazed into his eyes, she leaned in closer, determined to confront him.

"I love him Aaron, whether you like it or not I don't care, and weren't you the same nigga that said that he was bored of me? And my sex game was horrible?" She retorted.

"Yeah, I did and it's true." It caused her to chuckle darkly at him. "Then what the fuck are you pressing me for then? Sounds like you're jealous Aaron." She was correct; he felt a pang of jealousy seeing how well that other guy, someone from her past, was treating her. It truly affected him deeply.

The atmosphere in the room became tense as they locked eyes, each lost in their thoughts without uttering a single word. Miyori sighed and rolled her eyes, glancing at her Apple Watch to check the time.

"You can leave my office now." She pulled her arm free from his grasp and moved past him to return her clients' files to the folder. Suddenly, he grabbed her hair and pressed his lips against hers. The unexpectedness of the moment took her by surprise, but she quickly reacted, pushing him away and slapping his face in the process.

Leaving him stunned as she glared at him.

"The fuck is your problem! You know what get out! Get the fuck out!" Miyori shouted while pushing and shoving him out the door.

As security entered the room, they quickly apprehended the officer, who was struggling to resist. In the chaos, he managed to strike one of the security personnel, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. Meanwhile, Aaron was being escorted out of the office, his voice echoing as he yelled and shouted in frustration.

Miyori noticed a warm sensation running down her face and, upon touching her nose, realized it was bleeding. She quickly rose from the ground and made her way to her desk to grab some tissue. As she leaned forward, she caught sight of Kelly entering the room, worry etched on her face.

"Oh my goodness, Miyori are you okay?" Kelly asked coming to her aid.

"Y-yeah, I'm good Kelly, I'm good." She said.

"Do you need a moment before your clients show up today?" Miyori gave a slight nod as she made her way out of the office, heading down the hallway toward the bathroom.

Miyori gazed into the mirror, pulling the bloodied tissue from her nose. Her reflection revealed a chaotic visage, a clear reminder of the turmoil caused by that foolish decision. Deep down, she had anticipated this outcome the moment she ended things with him.

He had always struggled with feelings of possessiveness and jealousy, especially when he learned that she was seeing someone else after their breakup. While he knew he could be intense, Jey's emotions ran even deeper. If he had been aware of what was happening, he would have rushed to her side without a second thought, ready to confront Aaron for treating her poorly.

She wiped her face clean and took several deep breaths, slowly opening her eyes as she reassured herself, "You're alright, Mimi, you're alright." With a sense of calm, she discarded the bloody tissues and stepped out of the bathroom, making her way back to her office.

☞

Jey sat on the tour bus, scrolling through TikTok and chuckling at the funny videos, all the while trying to push thoughts of Miyori from his mind. He missed her deeply, and the ache of her absence was almost unbearable. He found himself hoping that after this Friday, he would finally get to see her again. Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly noticed someone standing in front of him. Looking up, he saw Jaida with her arms crossed, watching him intently.

She grabbed his phone from him, knowing it would upset him, and it definitely stirred him up as she anticipated.

"Yo' what the fuck is yo' problem Jaida? Give me back my shit." Jey snarled.

"No! Because what the fuck is this huh!" She raised her voice while displaying images and text conversations with Miyori, which made him smirk.

"You know what it is Jaida don't play fucking dumb aight? I told you me and her got some history together."  She threw his phone at him while rolling her eyes scoffing in disbelief. "Man what does that bitch have that I don't?"

Jey ran his fingers through the back of his neck, his hands moving to cover his face as disbelief washed over him. He couldn't fathom that he was facing this situation now, especially given how sexually frustrated he had been since leaving. The longing for Miyori's touch was overwhelming; he craved the way she would tug at his hair, pushing him to confront his feelings. He truly missed those moments.

"Watch yo' mouth when you speaking on her, she does a lot for me than you do I mean hell you barely show me any attention so I got my attention somewhere else." He remarked as he reclined on the sofa, his arms extended wide.

As Jimmy and Trinity drove to the next town for their house shows that evening, they observed the situation unfolding around them.

"But you're with me! You cheated on her with me!"

"And I wish I didn't maybe if yo' little homeboys didn't throw you at me we wouldn't be in this situation but here we are right?"

"So what? She's better than me?"

Jey nodded his head while leaning in placing his arms on his knees. "Yeah, Miyori always been better than you Jaida, like I said you don't give a man no time or even like affection from me." He noticed the tears welling up in her eyes, but it didn't seem to matter to him at all. Why should he feel any compassion for her when she was simply reflecting the emotions he was grappling with himself?

"I'm telling you what it is and what it ain't so you won't get no false promises of us being together forever." His words shattered her heart, but to him, it was inconsequential. He couldn't grasp why she was in tears, especially since she had never expressed any affection towards him before.

"So you never loved me?" Jaida asked.

"I did love you but once you started acting differently and showing me less affection I just knew I made the wrong mistake." In that moment, she struck him across the face with a force that made both Jimmy and Trin flinch, as if they were the ones feeling the sting of the blow.

Jey rubbed his face, trying to keep his composure. He never faced this kind of situation when he was with Miyori; they would simply communicate and then share an intimate moment, avoiding all the toxic behaviors. He wasn't one to engage in that kind of drama unless someone really provoked him.

Jaida stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Jey let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temple in frustration. All he could think was that he needed Miyori at that moment. With that thought in mind, he got up from the sofa and made his way to the bathroom.

"He finna go blow off some stream." Jimmy said as Trinity hit him upside the head.

iMessage 💬 Joshua🖤: mamas? Mimi💓: hm? Joshua🖤: you okay? sounds like you're stressed did something happen? Mimi💓: mhm but idk if I should tell you knowing how you are. Joshua 🖤: what happened? Mimi💓: you promise you won't get mad? Joshua🖤: I can't promise that if it's that bad for you to tell me so what happened Mimi? Mimi💓: Aaron came to my job and we had an argument about you and me being together Joshua🖤: he sounds very jealous to me Mimi💓: that's what I said but the problem is he got so pissed off about it he... Joshua🖤: what he do Mimi don't hide nun from me you know I'm here Mimi💓: he slapped me in my face causing my nose to bleed but I'm okay I swear Joshua🖤: does his bitch ass wanna get fucked up? Mimi💓: Joshuaaaa you promised Joshua🖤: I never said that and I don't play about you Mimi💓: I know you don't but I don't want you to go crazy security took him out Joshua🖤: that's don't matter he'll come up there as many times as he want just to put his hands on you and I won't stand for that shit period Mimi💓: don't book a flight down here Joshua please I can protect myself just focus on your house shows please for me Joshua🖤: Baby Girl Mimi💓: pleaseeee 🥺 Joshua🖤: aight aight I won't but fuck I miss you Mimi💓: you do? Joshua🖤: yess I fucking miss yo' ass I need to blow off some steam mamas Mimi💓: lms Joshua🖤: sends attachment/ look what you're doing to me Ma I need you Mimi💓: hm since you've been working so hard for me I'll help you out Papa Joshua🖤: please do mamas please

(MINI SMUT WARNING) - PHONE SEX JEY AND MIYORI

Jey had pulled down his sweats along with his boxers seeing his dick springing up hitting him on his stomach as pre-cum was already spilling out from the tip while he stroked his dick up and down.

Mimi💓: you ready for me Papa? Joshua🖤: fuck yes mamas talk to me Mimi💓: stroke it nice and slow for me Papa

He followed her instructions slowly stroking his member up and down feeling a lump inside of his throat as he threw his head back listening to her soft voice through the phone

Mimi💓: you miss this pretty pussy Papa? Joshua🖤: yes I miss that shit mamas...ohh fuck I miss it so bad Mimi💓: how bad Papa? Tell mama how bad you miss her pussy

The way her voice was through the phone was turning him on so much he couldn't wait to see her again and fucked her senselessly through the mattress.

Joshua🖤: I miss it so fucking bad Mimi...I wanna taste her and be near her.. Mimi💓: whatchu going do to me papa? When you come see me? Joshua🖤: Imma beat that pussy up mamas imma beat it up good so you can never forget who it belongs to Mimi💓: you know it's your Papa it's been yours stroke that dick faster for me

Jey did what he was told to do stroking his dick in a fast pace manner brushing his thumb against the head of his dick making him lose control over himself.

Joshua🖤: Mamasss keep talkin to me please Mimi💓: you like working hard for me huh? Just to get back with me? Joshua🖤: I love it mamas I fucking love it imma keep working hard for you fuck Mimi💓: stroke it faster baby c'mon

Speeding up his pace he rolled his eyes in the back of his head clenching his thighs in the process while rubbing against his body with his other hand imagining that it was her doing all of this to him while she was bouncing on his dick or him fucking her silly.

Mimi💓: that dick is mine right? It don't belong to that bitch or anyone else but me right Papa? Joshua🖤: yess this dick is yours Mimi all yours ouuu shit I'm finna nut

Jey felt his dick twitching in his hands as he kept stroking it in a fast manner feeling his body shaking letting his toes curls up.

Mimi💓: you gon' cum for me? Joshua🖤: I'm finna nut Baby girl Ouu I wish it was your pretty ass face I could nut on right now Mimi💓: cum for me Papa cum for mama Joshua🖤: fuckkk mamas fuckkk

Jey let out a guttural moan escape his lips as ropes of his cum began shooting out ropes after ropes over his hand while he was breathing heavily up and down stroking his dick slowly making sure that all of his nut spilled out from his tip.

Joshua🖤: fuck Ma got me making a mess and shit Mimi💓: my bad Papa but do you feel better? Joshua🖤: hell yeah much more better Mimi💓: I hope Jon and Trin didn't hear you Joshua🖤: probably did but ion care I fucking miss you Mimi💓: I miss you too Joshua🖤: if you miss me then why don't you come see me this weekend I'm off Mimi💓: un-un see you tryna be slick boy Joshua🖤: ion know what you talkin about mamas Mimi💓: you think you slick boy go clean yourself up I'll text you later okay? Joshua🖤: aight then mamas

CALLED END - SMUT OVER

Jey was tidying himself up when he heard a knock at the door, with Jimmy's voice faintly echoing in the background.

"You good in there Uce!" Jimmy shouted.

"Yeah, I'm good dawg I'll be out there in a minute." Jey said.

"A'ight we gonna stop to get some food since Trin said that she was getting hungry." Jey managed to clean his cum off of his body and hands while turning off the sink grabbing his phone in the process while heading out the door seeing his brother standing there.

"What?" Jey questioned him.

"You and Mimi are nasty as hell dawg." He commented on as Jey smacked his lips at him while shoving him away playfully.

☞ Miyori arrived home safely, parking her car in the driveway and turning off the engine. She reached for her purse from the passenger seat, stepped out of the car, and walked toward the front door. As she opened the door, she noticed Jasmine sitting in the living room, watching TV. Their eyes met, and a moment of connection passed between them.

"Heyyy bestie how was work?" Jasmine asked as she seen Miyori placing her purse on the couch.

"Girl, let me fucking tell you who showed up." She said while sitting next to her.

"What happened bestie?" Miyori shared with Jasmine the events that unfolded at work involving her and Aaron. She recounted how he had come to her workplace, visibly upset about her reconciling with Jey. She also mentioned the troubling incident where he had put his hands on her, which left Jasmine feeling furious.

"Girl, what?! Do I gotta whoop his ass? Does Josh know about this?" She asked as she stood up

Miyori urged her to take a seat and calm down. She confided in Jey about the incident with Aaron, still in disbelief that he would resort to slapping her at work just because he had cheated.

"He sounded jealous if you ask me bestie."

"That's what I literally said to him too, like how you gonna get mad at I'm finna be back with my ex-boyfriend you know." Jasmine nodded, fully grasping Miyori's feelings about the situation. While she shared her best friend's disapproval of Jey's betrayal, she also felt uneasy about Aaron due to his possessive nature.

"I understand bestie that's why I'm glad you and Josh are working it out together."

Miyori gave her a warm smile as she settled into the sofa, taking out her phone to browse her social media. As she scrolled, she noticed a few messages from Jey's girlfriend, who seemed to be reaching out to her.

IG messages 💬 jaidaparker_wwe: YOU ARE SUCH A SLUT jaidaparker_wwe: RUIN MY RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM STUPID BITCH jaidaparker_wwe: JUST WAIT UNTIL I SEE YOU ITS UP THERE FR miyorisworld: you done baby girl? It's not my fault that he wanted me back it's basically your fault for not doing your job as a girlfriend 🤷🏽‍♀️ jaidaparker_wwe: I WAS DOING MY JOB miyorisworld: if you were he wouldn't be coming back to me now would he? And apparently you didn't do enough for him to want you so I have one up on you yet again sweetheart jaidaparker_wwe: imma beat tf outta you when I catch you little girl you ain't better than me miyorisworld: honey I'm better than you can imagine he know where home is and he's coming right back to it so don't get your hopes up aight? Now please stop playing on my phone.

Miyori decided to silence Jaida's constant messages, which seemed aimed at proving her superiority. She had no interest in engaging with those threats; they didn't affect her at all. Miyori was confident in her position regarding her relationship with Jey.

After her shower, Miyori slipped into her cozy pajamas and nestled into her bed, which still carried the comforting scent of Jey. She hugged her pillow tightly as she opened her laptop to book a flight for the upcoming weekend. With a day off ahead, they were excited to head to Indy for Friday Night Smackdown, so she quickly secured the nearest flight available.

As she completed the ticket purchase, a message from Jey appeared on her screen, bringing a smile to her face.

Joshua🖤 sent a message

Joshua🖤: hey pretty lady

She messaged him back.

iMessage 💬 Mimi💓: Hey handsome wyd Joshua🖤: chilling in the hotel room hbu? Mimi💓: booking a flight right now Joshua🖤: 🤨 where you finna go? Mimi💓: I can't tell you or it'll ruin the surprise Joshua🖤: what you got planned mamas? Mimi💓: Joshua I can't tell you Joshua🖤: mmcht mane but how's your day been Mimi💓: it's been good expect the fact that your girl keeps harassing me Joshua🖤: bout what? Mimi💓: about us I literally told her what it is and what it ain't Joshua🖤: don't worry about her she's not important she know the history between us Mimi💓: did you have a match ? Joshua🖤: yeah I got the W for tonight though Mimi💓: perioddd as you should I'm proud of you papa Joshua🖤: thank you baby girl fuck I wish you were here so we could cuddle up with each other Mimi💓: is you and shawty sharing a room together? Joshua🖤: nah we got separated hotel rooms Mimi💓: mhm but you've been doing so good working hard for me Joshua🖤: I'll do anything for you baby girl you know that Mimi💓: ofc baby Joshua🖤: but imma let you get some rest got some pictures for me mamas? Mimi💓: no I didn't take any today but I gotchu tmr tho 🫶🏽 Joshua🖤: aight then mamas goodnight 💗 Mimi💓: goodnight 🫶🏽

She set her phone down on the dresser and nestled deeper into the blankets, inhaling the comforting scent he had left during his last visit. Little did he know, she was planning to surprise him soon, recognizing how hard he had been working for her. He truly deserved it.

She gently shut her eyes, allowing herself to drift off into slumber.

IMPERFECT FOR YOU

A/n: Miyori is finally going to see Jey and soothing his nerves after crashing out that miss you sex finna hit differently. You think Jaida is going to beat Miyori up or will Miyori get one up on her?

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below ⬇️

STAY UCEY.

[ashisill]

Ethereal

Josh kiszka x fem reader

He wants you until it starts to become a serious relationship. He’s found excuse after excuse not to make you his and you’ve had just about enough.

Warnings: (language, fighting, crying, smoking, drinking, friends with benefits, drunk and angry Josh, unprotected sex, overstimulation, f dom, vulgar language, subby Josh, and I believe that’s all)

AN: This might be my last fanfic for a while. I’ve been getting pretty discouraged recently which I try not to do. I’ve been spending so much time writing but not getting much out of it. I know I struggle with grammar a little but I’m trying to get better. I’ll still be active on tumblr but I’ll be taking a break from writing. I hope you all understand <3

~

Ethereal: extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world

It was a warm summer night in the middle of June. You should be home in your bed or relaxed smoking a J. Instead you’re naked in cold hotel sheets. Josh is standing on the balcony smoking a cigarette. If his brothers knew you were tangled in his sheets they’d surely give him a lecture. It’s not that you’re bad for Josh. Truth be told you’re the only person they want Josh to get with. It’s just that he’s convinced himself he can’t handle a relationship. He loves to play pretend like you two are together until it gets too serious. He drags you along but refuses to settle down. It’s not fair to either of you. Therefore they try their best to pull you two apart. He’s absolutely crazy for you but what is stopping him from making it official? It’s no secret. Everybody knows his feelings for you. Even though he tries to hide it from the guys. Jake’s the only one who truly knows about your secrets in the dead of night. Although it’s not that hard to assume you’re sleeping with each other.

“Josh you can’t keep fucking her”

“What else am I supposed to do Jake?”

“I dunno maybe take her out on a fucking date”

“ I don’t date. I can’t date. I don’t do ‘domestication’ you know this. I haven’t dated since high school. There’s a reason”

“And she’s about the only girl you’ve had sex with since high school. How do you think she feels being drug around from city to city for your pleasure?”

“My god don’t say it like that. She knows I cant settle down with her”

“She’s okay with being your fuck buddy even though you’re both hopelessly in love with each other? No Josh shes not. She tells you that so she doesn’t have to lose you”

“That’s not tru-”

“I’ve talked to her myself. She can’t wait forever and you’re going to continue to take advantage of her until she finds another. Then what are you gonna do?”

“She didn’t tell you that don’t you lie to me”

“Who cares what she said or didn’t. What are you gonna do when you lose her Josh? That’s what’s important right now”

Truthfully you can never see yourself moving on from him. Is it unhealthy? Absolutely. You both play pretend and act like best friends. Around the others it looks like nothing more than platonic feelings. They know better and so do the both of you. Except let the word ‘relationship’ get thrown around and Josh panics. As much as you try you just can’t understand. Why is he throwing you away? You’ve traveled the word to stay by his side. You take care of him better than anyone. You cook elaborate meals for him, you calm him down when he’s frantic, and you fuck him like a porn star. Any other guy would have jumped at the opportunity. Including his brothers but here you are waiting hand and foot for him.

“Josh?”

He’s sliding back the balcony door and walking towards the bed. He sits with his back facing you. “Yeah?”

“I bought a plane ticket back home”

“What why?”

He’s facing you now, hairs a wreck, and his eyes are bulged.

“Because I’m done Josh. I’m done being your fuck buddy, I’m done traveling city to city on a maybe, and I’m done with the excuses. Obviously you don’t want me because if you did you would have made me yours by now”

“That’s not true y/n you have to understand-”

“I’m done trying to understand you Josh!” You’re frantically throwing your clothes on and shoving the rest in a suitcase.

“You can’t leave y/n! Come on this is crazy”

“Do you know what’s crazy Josh? Spending this long waiting for a man who won’t even hold my hand in front of his brothers”

“Y/n I explained it to you. Just put the bag down and we’ll talk”

“Talk about what Josh? About how you’re ‘not ready’ and you ‘can’t handle a relationship’. I can’t keep killing myself for you to love me. Why don’t you love me? Why Josh why?”

“I-”

“What can’t talk your way out of this one?”

“I do love you y/n”

“Well that’s fucking big of you huh?”

“Y/n!”

“Can you tell me right now? Tell me that you want this? You want us”

He’s stammering on his words and staring into your eyes. He can’t form a sentence even with your threat of leaving. You look at him in shock and throw your hands up in the air. “Well then I guess that’s it then?”

“No y/n I do want you please. Please just stay”

“Us! I want you to want us! You’ve made it more than obvious that you don’t”

“Y/n please” he looks like he’s about to cry but you don’t care. You can’t care.

You grab your suitcase and open the door. Hes gripping your arm and pleading with you. “Y/n please I’ll change. Just don’t go”

“Josh let me go”

“No! God damn it y/n listen to me! Please I-”

He’s hurting you with his strength of his grip. You even debate on if it will bruise. “Ouch Josh let go of me”

“Y/n I can’t do this without you”

“Then you should have fucking thought about that before you treated me like nothing more than a fuck buddy”

You pull away and shove a finger in his chest. “goodbye Josh”

You slammed the door and turned down the hall. He’s laid up against the door pulling his hair. “Fuck fuck fuck”

You make your way to the hotel lobbiy and spot Jake sitting at the bar. You try to not catch his attention but who are you kidding. He’s now laid eyes on you and is very concerned as he waves to you. “Well well well what do we have here?”

“You don’t have to lecture Josh anymore because it’s over”

“Over?”

“I’m catching a plane back home so”

“Well hold on now. Come sit and have a drink with me”

He pats the barstool next to him and you sigh but join him. You order a drink to calm your nerves. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“No” you throw back a shot.

“Might make you feel better. Get it off your chest before you leave”

Jake hopes he knows you well enough to convince you to stay. He stays quiet for a while giving you time to think. Just as he wished you start to open up.

“I told him I was leaving and asked if he was serious about us. Do you know what he said?”

“Do I want to know?”

“He said nothing Jake!. He just stared at me with that stupid face and his stupid brown eyes” you shout louder than you meant.

He’s the only person at the bar that didn’t give you a look of disgust. He smiles telling you to tone it down and continues.

“I’m not saying forgive him but you know he doesn’t mean that right?”

“Really Jake?” You punch his arm. “Sorry”

“Hey!” He laughs at your weak attempt of a punch. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant he’s fucking stupid. When you force him to deal with things that way he freaks. I don’t know why but he’s always been that way. There was a time when we were kids were he couldn’t function without me during school. I was always there to pull him out of situations and find a solution to whatever was wrong. Now he’s gotten a lot more independent from me but he still depends on me for a lot. Hence why I always got a phone call after you two got it on”

“He calls you after?”

“Usually to bitch and moan about how bad he wants you yes”

“Why does he have to be so complicated?”

“Because he’s Josh and he can’t do anything without a struggle”

You sigh “I’ve noticed”

“Has he ever told you about Brooklyn?”

“I’m gonna need a lot more shots for this huh?”

“Well don’t get wasted if you going home”

“I don’t know what to do”

“Well you’re always welcome to crash in my room if you just need a break. Or if your determined to leave I’ll pay for your ticket and drive you to the airport”

You sigh “I dunno just tell me about Brooklyn”

“Well Brooklyn was Josh’s first love. They were together for two years, lived together, and it seemed just perfect. He loved her like truly loved her and we all thought she did too. Well Josh came home early from Europe and found a guy sleeping in their bed. She claimed he was drunk and needed a place to crash. He knew it wasn’t true and thankfully he left. For the next year she would do everything she could to fuck with him. She’d call him shitfaced and try to get him back. She would come by my house and try to talk to him. It was borderline stalking and I had to basically threaten her to leave him alone. Eventually she gave up after she met some other guy. Well now your here and he’s fallen in love with you and he’s terrified”

“But doesn’t he know I’m not her?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to get through to him”

“I would never hurt him like that! Never would I be so careless with his heart. He’s become everything to me. So much so that I feel like a part of me is missing when he’s not around. That’s stupid isn’t it?”

“Stupid because it’s my dumbass brother. But I never see you smile with your teeth unless you’re with him. Both of your eyes seem to glow together. You don’t look at anyone the way you look at him. You’re in way to deep to just up and go home”

“I love love him dont I?”

“If love love means you can’t leave tonight then yes”

“I’m not going anywhere but he can’t get away with acting this way”

“Here”

He hands you his debit card and room card “you can order food and drinks from the room and they will bring it up. Take your bags and go get shit faced and I’ll fix this okay?”

You both rise to your feet and you wrap around his neck. You two have never hugged before so he’s a little confused. Jake’s not the affection type but you could tell you needed this. He pats your back gently and hugs you tight until you let go. “Thank you Jake”

“Anything for my future in law”

You shower in Jake’s hotel room and wrap yourself in a robe. You ordered sushi and a martini and your stretched out in Jake’s bed. It’s a lot cleaner in here than you thought and it smells of Jake’s cologne. It’s comforting in a way. You and Jake have gotten pretty close over the years. He’s saved you from a lot of stressful situations. Either you’ve gotten too drunk and he’s holding back your hair or you’re freaking out over something small. He’s always there to step in when the other guys give you a hard time. He knows your Josh’s and because of that he’s very overprotective of you. He’s the first to punch a guy for being to friendly with you. You’ve always seen him as a protector which is why you always go to him when something’s wrong. Even if you’re not trying to seek him out he’s always there. Tonight is a perfect example of Jake’s savior tendencies.

“Open the door you prick”

“I’m not in the mood Jake”

“Guess who I ran into at the bar?”

“Oh fuck” he’s swinging open the door.

“She left”

“She actually left!” he gasp.

“Josh she’s gone why wouldn’t you stop her?”

He’s being mean but he’s trying to teach him a lesson. He doesn’t want to be this way but he knows how Josh works. This is the only way to get through to him. You fight stubborn by being stubborn.

“I tried she wouldn’t listen”

“She’s probably tired of listening to bullshit”

“Jake do you not remember what happened last time. Do you not remember how bad it was for me? My god why dont you two get it?”

“Y/n isn’t her. You can’t use that excuse anymore”

“It’s not an excuse it’s the truth!”

“Fuck Josh. She’s not gonna hurt you stop treating her like she is. You tiptoe around her like at any moment it’s going to turn south. What happened to ‘fuck fear’?”

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen” he runs his hands through his tangles curls. “I really do love her she’s all I’ve ever wanted”

“I know in your heart you mean that but you fucked up big time. She truly doesn’t think you love her because of how you’ve been treating her”

“Did she say when she was flying out?”

“As your brother it’s too late for that Josh”

“Fuck”

“I would say I’m sorry but you did it to yourself”

“Jake I can’t lose her!”

He’s pacing like a madman and his curls are pointing every which way. His eyelashes wet from tears and his cheeks pink. “Maybe this is good. Maybe you need to give her space. If there’s one thing I do know it’s that she loves you”

“Is that supposed to help? She’s gone!”

“Josh” he puts his hand on his shoulder.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Go smoke a joint and calm down. You can’t do anything to fix it tonight”

“I would fight you but I know you’re right”

Josh heads to the balcony to smoke a joint and probably order a drink or two or three …

Jake swipe his card he sighs, shutting the door behind him.

“Well don’t you look cozy?”

“How’d it go with dumbass?”

“I told him you left and he’s drowning in self pity”

“Jake! That’s so sad! I didn’t say hurt him!”

“Y/n he’s lead you on for a year and you’re six hours away from home because of him. He was going to let you fly home I stopped you remember?”

“Right”

“Uh yeah don’t be stupid. Sip your drink and forget about him for tonight”

“That’s kinda of hard when he’s across the hall”

“Yeah yeah”

He’s laying beside you on his tummy. He’s stealing your sushi and also ordered a drink. This is the hardest you’ve laughed in months. You love moments like this with him. Purely platonic love. He’s the only guy you know that has never tried to get with you even when he’s under the influence. He’s sams got a little too flirty with you all in good fun of course. You’re both pretty intoxicated and the tv is suddenly the funniest thing ever. Both of you laughing and point at the stupidest things. Even the commercials are funny. You’re pleased to hang out with Jake all night. Your fun slowly started to fade away. When out of nowhere You hear a door slam which is odd for two in the morning. Next there’s banging on the hotel door. He rushes to the door and looks through the peak hole. “Oh fuck it’s Josh”

He cracks the door to find a very drunk and very angry Josh. “I was g-going to finda snack. I-I know that laugh. Y-you you prick”

“Josh go back to your room”

“Fuck you! You’re s-shirtless! Did you two f-”

“What the hell no we didn’t! Josh shut up its two in the morning”

“Fuck you!” He shouts louder.

Sam opens the door next to Jake’s room. “Josh shut the hell up?”

“He got to drunk and he’s accusing me of sleeping with y/n”

“Y-you lied to me! She-shes in y-your room!”

“Josh I just got her content and here you come with your bullshit”

“What is happening?” Sam asked shyly.

“Y/n said she was leaving, I calmed her down, offered my room for her to stay, and I tried to teach him a lesson by telling him she left. We’ve just been drinking and watching tv that’s all. Before you showed up we were actually having a pretty good time”

“Yeah so y-you can f-fuck her!”

Sam rubs his face “Josh I’m telling you to fuck off. You are beyond stupid if you think he would do anything with y/n. Go away Josh”

“No no no I need her! I need her!” He tries to push them out of the way.

“Joshua!” They shove him back. He attempted to throw a punch but Jake shoved him making him stumble. He falls back onto his hard hotel door and now you’re angry. Angry because he’s whining for you after he gave you away. Most importantly angry because they’re being so rough with him.

“Josh” you’ve appeared behind Jake making them all jump. His eyes widen and his breath has slowed. “You are a fucking mess”

“I know y/n” he looks down.

You hold back your anger with Jake and Sam because you know they were trying to help. You disappear back into the bedroom. When you return you’ve got your sushi plate and your martini. “Come on”

“What?” He’s stumbling around the hallway. You wrap an arm around his waist to steady him.

“Thank you Jake. Goodnight Sam”

He turns to cuss out his brother “yeah goodnight and fuc-”

“Shut up and get in the room”

You awkwardly shuffle in the room and he takes a seat on the bed. Neither of you look at each other. You live in painful silence before speaking to him.

“I guess you do love me huh?”

“Yes I fucking love you y/n”

“I never bought a plan ticket I just needed to clear my head”

“You didn’t have t-to scare me so bad. I thought I lost you” he’s still struggling to get the words out correctly.

“Maybe that’s what you needed to figure your shit out. Oh and I know about Brooklyn”

“Oh fuck y/n I’m sorry I-”

“Look I get it Josh but that’s doesn’t excuse the way you treated me”

“I can make it up to you I promise. Please just-” it chokes out of him. “Please y/n”

That noise reminds you so much of when he’s on the edge. As much as you hate it it’s turned you on. You test the waters carefully knowing he’s still fragile.

“Breathe … Can you make it up to me?”

You step closer to him and slowly undo your robe. “Oh fuck. Like this?”

“Like what?” You stand in between his legs. Your nails rake his shoulders gently up and down. He tries hard for his gaze not to wander your body.

He closes his eyes instead, leaning into your touch “mhm feels good”

“How drunk are you?”

“I can get it up” he smiles at you.

“M’sorry I scared you but you have to understand”

“I understand and I deserved it”

“Yeah you kind of did. Hmm. I guess you’ve been bad huh?” Your voice low and seductive.

A sly grin appears on his face. He’s enjoying this a little too much already. “So bad mama”

No words spoken you just point to the pillows. He rushes to obey you. “Good boy”. You straddle his waist and feel him through his boxers.

“Mhmm” he closes his eyes.

“Gotta stay with me baby”

“I’m here I’m right here. What you gonna do to me darling?”

“What am I gonna do? I’m gonna ride you until I’m done with you. And you gonna be a good boy and fucking take it”

“Oh fuck baby” he whines but you’re having none of it.

“Shut up”

You’re ripping off his boxers and stripping off his shirt. “Touch me. My god touch me”

“Enough”. You laid a hard slap to the side of his thigh making him shiver. He bites his lip trying to be a good boy for you.

He’s hard. Insanely hard. He’s swollen, bright red, and his tip aggressively leaks of pre cum. “So hard huh Josh? Oh so pretty for me sweetheart. Does your cock hurt baby?”

You’re speaking so vulgar it’s killing him. Normally it’s Josh doing all the dirty talk as he rambles on. Now it’s you and he thinks he’s fallen for you even more. Well if he could think about anything besides your pussy right now.

“Hurts so bad mama. So fucking bad”. He looks down at his cock with burrowed eyebrows. “Hm so hard”

“So hard”

You’re unbelievably soaking wet and you fight to stay focused. You start to slide your clit on his cock. “You’re so wet mama” it grunts out him.

He reaches down to feel you but you swat his hand. “No touching”

“But-”

“Am I gonna have to shove these in your mouth or are you gonna be good?” You tease your panties at him before throwing them his way.

“I’m gonna be good! I’m gonna be so good. So patient”

“Good boy”

He lives for your approval and gentle praise. He moans out without you even touching him. In an instant you’re sliding him inside of you and sinking down. It burns as he stretches your walls when he’s all the way in you cry out. He grips the sheets and gasp loudly. “Shit” he hisses through his teeth. His voice sounds the farthest thing from pleasure. His eyes squeeze shut and a string of grunts and moans follow.

“Josh?”

“Baby I can’t-”

“Gonna cry for this pussy? Gonna fucking cry Joshua?”

“M’sorry. So so sorry”

He’s moaning far too loud to be in a hotel room. He’s pulling at the sheets then he balls his fist and bangs them down on the bed. You let him cum as you rock back and forth. He starts to calm but you don’t stop if anything you speed up. He gasp out and reaches for you hips. “Didn’t I say no touching?”

“Y/n! Fuck! Please!”

“Oh you poor pathetic thing. Look at you Josh. Such a mess for me already? Fucking destroyed”

“I can’t-” it barely croaks out of him as you fuck yourself on his cock.

“Do you need your safe word?”

He shakes his head and you slow down a little bit. “You gonna let me cum?”

“Fucking use me y/n!”. Tears start to fall from the crease in his eyes.

“There’s my boy. Don’t cry baby I know how overstimulated this dick must be huh?” You say leaning down to wipe his tears.

You throw your head back grinding hard on his throbbing cock. He’s watching you in awe as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Because you are. You’re getting close and he can feel you squeezing him. Reminding him he’s not far from another orgasm. “M’close”

“I know you’re squeezing my cock so tight baby. Hugging him so good”

“You’re not far behind are you sweet boy?”

“Mhm gonna cum. Gonna cum so fucking hard”

Without another word because you both can’t form one. It’s intense and nearly impossible how hard both of you are cumming. His release starts to leak out of your cunt. Dripping down to your thighs. Your core and legs shake with pleasure. You’ve got him whining and whimpering out. He sounds so pretty and so fucked out. The noises that flow from both of you is nothing but a pornographic daydream. It’s the only thing you can focus on anymore. A beautiful filthy angelic harmony that only you two can understand. As he starts to calm you wonder how much he’s got left. You should stop. You should roll over and lay next to him, catching your breath. Whisper sweet things to him and cuddle up on his warm body. But do you?

Your hips start to roll and he looks terrified. “Y/n you’re gonna kill me!”

“Gotta empty that cock baby. I want it all”

“You’ve got it all mama please”

“One more pretty boy. Can you be sweet and give me one more?”

He looks like he’s in pain but he nods “of course I can”

Such a sweet and innocent response. You can see pure euphoria shimmering in his eyes. He’s gone yet he still smiles up at you waiting on your command.

You’re bouncing up and down on him. His eyes start to roll but you order him to focus on you. Every move you make is followed by a whimper and his body is nearly limp.

“I-I can’t. My cock hurts mama” he cries.

“Yes you can Josh look at me” You grab his face in your hands “I’m almost there my love. Take it baby can you take it?”

“Mhm I-I … I can take it” he whispered. He’s got a steady stream of tears down his cheeks. He reaches out to touch you and you allow it. He’s squeezing your breast and gripping your hips. He’s a complete mess just like you wanted. He’s so so so crazy beautiful like this. Sweat drips from his curls, his cheeks pink as ever, and his eyes glossy with pleasure and pain. You’ve never seen something so beautiful. Beautiful is a complete understatement. He’s … Ethereal. He can’t be real. You hovering above him but he can’t be. He’s so soft and gentle you can hold him like water in your hands. Too fragile for this rough and crazy world. He’s an angel that must have fell down from the heavens. It must be true he can’t be human. It’s few and far between when things in this world are flawless. Yet he lays before you completely perfect. His body sculpted from the gods. His personality built and crafted from all the things that make him Josh. That make him perfect. Tears are failing from your own eyes. You realize now you love him with every bone in your body. Every time your heart beats it beats for him. Your lungs breathe for him. You think without him you would just crumple away into nothing. You live for him. You love him. Your angel so ethereal. So wonderful and full of life. Your baby. Sweet sweet Joshua.

Your Joshua

“Oh Josh” you cry “you’re so beautiful my love. I love you Josh please don’t leave”

“I’m right here” he squeezes your hand.

His voice strained by whimpers as he speaks so gently to you. “I love you y/n. My god I love you”

“I love you too J-”

Your name is all he knows as he repeats it over and over. Like a prayer seeping from his lips. He can’t even warn you that he’s tipped over the edge but you know. A borderline screams rips out of his lungs as you cries for you. A hand reaches over his mouth as you whisper to him.

“So loud for me baby boy. So good … so” you start to trail off. Your own orgasm crashing down over you. You’ve collapsed on top of him you wish to stay there but know his throbbing cock needs a break. “Josh?”

His body is twitching and shaking. You fear you might have been too much. When he turns to you with a weak smile you feel better. “I know it’s supposed to be a punishment but I’ve never been fucked so good”

You smile at him lazily “I love you stupid”

“I love you and my cock definitely loves you”

“Hold me?”

“I’ll hold you forever my sweet girl. As long you let me”

“Good thing too because I’m never letting go. Took long enough to get you”

“You’ve always had me. I’m gonna be better to you okay? I’m gonna love you the way I should have in the first place”

“Can you start by ordering more sushi?” You tease playfully knowing the restaurant lobby is far from open.

He laughs the way you love so damn much. You rest your head on his chest, immediately being clouded by tiredness. His eyes are closed and a faint smile is present on his face. “Maybe tomorrow m’so sleepy”

“Goodnight Josh” you whisper.

He whispers back “Goodnight sweet girl. Pretty girl. My girl”

“All yours”

[seasonalmoss]

just going to put this out there since it’s an actual problem that I have but I can never word it since I’m always afraid I sound too rude or something but I swear I’m not trying to attack anyone or be mean nor am I claiming anyone is a bad person, I just want to inform.

Almost everyone who is active in this fandom treats Wooly and Amanda odd, especially especially Wooly and I don’t like it.

Peoples takes and theories and analysis of Wooly are always so, ignorant? They always claim one thing or another which simply isn’t true or makes no sense for who we see him as. It’s clear a lot of people simply aren’t educated on things like trauma and psychological and I’m just now realizing that. Because almost more then half of what everyone says about Wooly? They would not be saying if they had more forethought and empathy for him. A lot of this could apply for Amanda too! But Wooly is the more mysterious character out of the two which makes people say more wild stuff about him.

I don’t want to sound pretentious or cocky, I’m not saying everyone else is dumb and I’m not, I’m coming from a place of hurt. It hurts seeing the way this fandom acts about Wooly and Amanda, especially Wooly. People often aren’t coming from a place of true understanding for him, they fully aren’t recognizing how he and Amanda are abused.

and yes they are. they, by definition are abuse victims since, they are getting abused by Hameln. We can not have a proper conversation about these two if we don’t call it what it is. We can not have a empathetic discussion about this if we don’t address the root of a lot of their trauma. We need to talk about the awful, we need to talk about the topics that are hard and uncomfortable, because the treatment that they aren’t any of those things? Is an awful rhetoric that can and has effected how people are with reality, if you don’t admit some things to be abuse then you are giving yourself a path to deny someone’s actual experience.

so much of how this fandom treats these two is so underhandedly dismissing, ignorant and uneducated and I’ve actually spiraled about this. Because it made me feel as though I for also being a traumatized hurt kid was bad in some way for simply wanting to be safe and loved. Please be careful with your wording please.

again this isn’t meant to call anyone out or be rude or anything like that, I just want people to be more empathetic. I’ve talked a lot about this in my drafts and I’ve always been iffy about weather or not I should show them or not but you know what? At this point if someone takes offense to what I’m saying despite my constant points to make sure they know that I am not attacking them, then that’s on them.

one thing I also really need to bring attention and drive home is how this fandom treats Wooly specifically. HE IS A CHILD. people always say that they want to or they are extending the same amount of empathy they have for Amanda to Wooly but they actually aren’t, they are not actually fully extending that empathy to him whatsoever. Your words don’t mean anything if you don’t actually do it. People act as though Wooly is 10x more sinister then he actually is, as if he has more forethought and planning then he actually does. They genuinely lack a lot of empathy for him and are never fully 100% admitting

HE IS A CHILD. An ABUSED CHILD. Don’t shy away from that, say it with your chest say it Loudly and proudly.

here’s something else I put in my drafts regarding this specifically.

I might delete this for many reasons but I just feel like the ATA fandom on tumblr needs to see some of this

I’m going to @ all of my mutuals because I feel this is important. I’m not @/ing you guys because I’m trying to call specifically you out, I just want the fandom to be aware of this especially my mutuals since they are my mutuals

@maddyk-madwriter @curliiwurlii @dannyatnightfall @daze-bunny

[j0kers-light]

Three Steps Back

Ooooh this was the settling in phase chapters walking on eggshell around Joker. Good soup.

You were unable to come to terms on what almost happened between the two of you, so you decided to pretend that it didn't happen in the first place.

Who’s gonna tell her? 🥴

He wormed himself past your defenses in just a few day's time with minimal effort on his part. When did you lower your guard around him? One minute you were guiding him towards the bed, the next he was making a pass at you.

The man got rizz Y/n! Natural charisma n’ stuff. 🔥🔥

You never cared for the color green until you met Joker. He made the hue come alive and take on a much deeper meaning. In less than a week, you saw the color in everything.

Y/n you’re starting early on the “I might have feelings criteria.”

You couldn't get his eyes out of your head even if someone paid you to. How could something so dark and dangerous be so warm and inviting? Up close you didn't understand why the populace was terrified by his gaze; it was intense and gorgeous in your opinion. You could write essays on what you saw swirling within them.

I was down bad when I wrote this paragraph 👀

It was agreed upon that he would stay for two weeks until his stitches needed to be removed but you knew something would ruin that target date.

Gotta love foreshadowing. I wonder what would ruin the original two weeks deal?

You were stuck with him now. No take backies just because you couldn't handle your psychotic roommate trying to kiss you.

And they were roommates! 🤣

You just refused to fall for a guy like Joker. Simple as that.

Elsewhere, Joker was finishing up the breakfast hash you made him when he heard the loud crash in the main room. He tried his hardest not to panic as the silence dragged on but breathed a sigh of relief once he heard your sarcastic ramblings drift down the hall.

Why you panicking Joker? You’re not supposed to care, remember? 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

He didn't know this interview had aired so he needed to watch every second to add anything said to his pre-existing notes. Some would say Joker was obsessed– he just considered himself a huge fan of your work and wanted to appreciate all the content you provided.

I would literally pass out if Joker was obsessed with my work or anyone for that matter. You wanna interview me?

He really spent two hours thinking about you. He really needed to get out of his room.

Certified simp!

“Don't worry that pretty little head of yours! For now on, I'll keep my hands to myself, bunny."

No he won’t. Ahhh he’s using that name we totally don’t like him using! It’s so cool to go back and see how we accepted Bunny as a nickname. Slowly but surely.

Call mom, she calls GCPD, the police swarm your apartment, both you and Joker are taken into custody. You confess he forced you to heal him and after a call to your lawyer, you'd be given a deal to save your own behind. You could write a story about your ordeal and make a fortune off of it while Joker rots away at Arkham Asylum. Roll credits.

This was so not how His Lighthouse was supposed to end hahaha 👀🫢

“Does that mean I can hold your hand?" He asked.

I’m not sure if Joker was teasing or being serious here.

Of course there were plenty of times he wanted to smother you with a pillow or stab you with a butter knife, or strangle you with his bare hands, but every time some unknown power steadied his hand.

😭😭 This is a good dive into Joker’s mind. He’s still an insane psychopath but he’s battling inner demons in order to begin loving Y/n.

He couldn't resist teasing you. "Ah, are you showering with me Bunny?"

Chaos are you hinting at a shower scene between these two!? Why yes I am!

His Lighthouse Re-Read Thread

Hey hi my loves!!! I've read my own story 14 million times but I never did an official reread thread so thank @jaysmentalspace for what's about to happen! 🖤✨

This will be an interactive thread. Yes, you can join in with your own comments, reblogs, whatever! I will start from chapter one and I guess, review/commentate my own story! I hope you enjoy the ride. There's gonna be fun facts, behind the scenes commentary, who knows. 🤷🏾‍♀️

His Lighthouse masterlist let's get started.

[ropes3amthoughts]

To my homies who encouraged me to get Twitter, thank you so much. There are so many gorgeous Kabrus there and the overall Kabru content is plentiful. Also I just saw this absolutely divine jawdropping enchanting gorgeous stunning beautiful Kabru art and I am in a state of shock. Like look at this holy shit?????? Like click on the link and click on the image and zoom in on the details and stuff this is so incredible. I mean you don’t have to but this is so good and I’m losing my mind and there are so many little details you won’t see unless you zoom in so I recommend it.

For anyone looking quickly this is not my art it belongs to the Twitter user in the link and it’s so good I would recommend looking at it

https://x.com/Neruchiru_08/status/1841319033632862418

I get insane under the cut

It’s been like 4 hours and I cannot stop thinking about it. Every time I stand up I start shaking. I feel nauseous and am coughing constantly. I feel like I am choking. That image will be burned into my brain for a very long time. Why doesn’t Twitter let you reblog with really long comments I need to say a million compliments. My voice is cracking. My heart is hammering. I’m warm and sweaty. Holy shit I am fagging it up bro. It’s beautiful as an art piece because the composition and colors and stuff are absolutely amazing and it’s beautiful if you’re queer (or straight and like Kabru too) because Kabru looks so good. His shoulders are showing and something about Kabru’s shoulders showing makes me insane. Like I thought the whole “you can’t show your shoulders” dress code thing in school was a bunch of dumb bullshit but oh boy I understand now. Every time I see Kabru’s shoulders I think “I want to bite that man” and then I’m all like “WOW who just thought that” but it’s me I’m thinking that I’m going insane over him I want to bite his shoulders he makes me crazy he’s so pretty oh goodness wow oh wow oh wowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww IM GOING INSANE a lot more people have seen it now but I need to show this to everyone you guys don’t understand how this makes me feel I’m going to pass away and fall over and cry you guys look pretty Kabru art guys guys it’s Kabru being gorgeous oh my fucking god guys guys I am going to be sick guys oh god guys do you see him he’s so pretty guys guys guys holy shit dude guys. I am an enjoyer of the arts. I enjoy this art. For sure. Wow. Awesome. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you guys. Guys. Guys. Guys. I am going to lose my mind. Ough. Guys. Guys guys guys. Do you????:!: seee????? The Kabru??????? Oh my god. Compliments to the artist. Beautiful. Beautiful lovely fantastic work. Awesome. This is great. I’m losing it. I showed my discord friends and I reblogged on Twitter and stuff but I wanted to show you guys too because I am a big fan of this beautiful Kabru art. I love this insanely much. Kabru fish…I love this creature the Kabru fish. Great 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍 chat I am gonna die this is too beautiful Ough beautiful Kabru

I’m being so dramatic you guys but do you understand the power this art has do you understand my feelings I love this art so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Kabru 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Kabru fish 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 gorgeous 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[valeriehalla]

I am so utterly fascinated by “Saki”, the 18-year-running mahjong manga in which you, the reader, become gradually, frog-boilingly aware (over the course of nearly two decades’ worth of mahjong tournaments) that none of these girls are wearing underwear and most of their boobs are slowly expanding.

I need you to understand that I have, like, an anthropological level fascination with this comic. From the perspective of someone who is also a comic artist and writer, two things delight me about it:

the fact that I understand completely how an artist gets from “the fans can have a little hint of skirted asscheek” to “the pussy is completely out on center page” over the course of 18 years; and

the way in which the pussy being out is treated by the characters and diegesis as being utterly unremarkable.

Okay. Point 1. The frog-boiling.

Let me put this in perspective for you. There was already a meme about how the characters in “Saki” don’t wear underwear when I was in middle school. I am thirty now. Okay? And it’s still going.

In the time since, this has stopped being a joke. It is now indisputable canon. This is not because anyone outright says it at any point. It’s because the underwear ran out of places to hide. I’m obsessed with this thought: somewhere in the over 20 volumes of “Saki”, there is a panel in which underwear was objectively deconfirmed. And it would be so hard to figure out where that panel actually is. Maybe the artist didn’t even realize it when she drew it! The frog? Boiling!!

And of course there is also the breast expansion. I don’t know how to put a spin on this. They are just expanding. Like, this happens a lot with artists: you define a character as being, in your mind, “the one with the big boobs”, and over the years you emphasize that trait further and further so that the signal doesn’t get lost in the noise. It’s just that normally—in like a wildly popular manga series about mahjong published by literally Square Enix, for example—normally there would be a point at which the boobs stopped getting bigger. Like, an editor would step in or something. Or you would get to the point where you cannot draw the character in the same panel as her mahjong tiles without her breasts spilling over the tiles, and you’d go, “Well, this is now untenable.”

That did not happen. There is no ceiling. The frog is soup.

Point 2. The complete and utter mundanity of all of this.

It’s like this, okay: there’s no shortage of trashy ecchi manga out there. There’s a million other comics doing wildly bawdier things with wildly more improbable bishoujos.

The vibe with “Saki” is different.

It’s hard to explain this, but it feels like the world of the comic is fundamentally uninterested in the fanservice happening on the page. I cannot describe it as “leering”, because I cannot conceive of a person in the story from whose point of view one would leer. I think the artist is probably into it—I can’t imagine anyone is making her do this—but “Saki” the comic has no opinion on the matter.

There are essentially no male characters in “Saki”. Like, there was one guy? Kind of? At the very beginning? But he is gone now. They put him back in the toybox. He does not exist. It appears to be some level of canonical that in the world of “Saki”, almost all humans are women. Those women are sometimes romantically into each other. According to comments the artist has made on Twitter (which I cannot source), they have lesbian baby technology, so it’s no problem. It’s so much not a problem that the story is about mahjong, instead of any of that.

So, like, the fiction here appears to be this: this is the, like, meta-narrative of the fanservice of “Saki”, right: it’s just normal that they don’t wear underwear and their boobs are arbitrarily big. It’s been normal. It was normal before the story of the manga began. It’s just how things are. Nobody bats an eye about it, and if they do, it’s in sort of a lesbian kind of way so like what’s the problem, we love lesbians here. This is literally normal for girls.

The fanservice simply diffuses into this all-encompassing aura of disembodied, ambient sluttiness. The framing of the panels demands you acknowledge it, and the story demands you already be over it, because it’s mahjong time now, and we’re playing mahjong.

Do you get??? why I’m so fascinated??? Are you not a little enraptured???

Anyway, I have no idea how to end this weird post. I guess the conclusion is that women stay winning????

[slytherinboysvip]

Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.

Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course

bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader

hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words

you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.

you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.

when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.

he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease

he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fourth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.

“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.

from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.

you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.

[eddiernunson]

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Thanks to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie

I’m astounded at the response to the preview I posted last week. Thank you so much for the love, I hope you enjoy all 40k (20k wtf did my brain go)

-

As you pull up to the little house at the end of the street, you look over to the sweet boy with blonde hair and green eyes nervously, curtaining a strand of hair behind one ear. He shoots you a smirk, white pearly teeth peeking from behind pretty pink lips. The date has gone phenomenally well, the conversation over dinner was easy and your date even easier on the eyes. You smooth your hands over the dress you’re wearing, picking at imaginary lint as you’re entirely unsure of what to say next.

Daniel, your date, leans onto the center console, the scent of his minty breath roping you in. “So, dinner was like, forty dollars.”

Your brows pinch together, the topic of conversation coming from left field.

“And the flowers were about twenty.” He says, his voice hinting at a subtext lost on you.

You think back to the flowers, a cascade of spring colours that drenched you in their floral scent. They sit on your dresser in a vase, waiting eagerly for you to come home.

“Okay…?” You ask, unsure of what he’s getting at.

Daniel sighs, suddenly the frustration you didn’t see before is clear on his face. “Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”

He’s raising his brow suggestively, and the atmosphere in the car turns thick as you realize what he’s referring to. You feel so stupid. Suddenly the smirk on his face isn’t sweet, it’s sleazy. The cologne he’s wearing isn’t earthy, it’s gross. He’s not a good guy, and you feel foolish for thinking otherwise.

You think fast, lowering your eyelashes in a feigned blush. “Actually, I think it deserves just a little more than that. Be right back, I’m going to grab a condom.” You wink as you get out, the cherry on top.

Daniel lights right up, apparently not expecting his ridiculous method to work. The sound of him undoing his belt makes you nearly gag as you run in the front door.

Your dad, the sweetheart of a single father he is, welcomes you with a kind smile until he sees your crestfallen face. “You okay?”

“No,” you choke back, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “He’s demanding I repay him for dinner.”

“Repay?” You tilt your head, inferring what it means. “Oh. Fucking twerp. You need me to–”

“Can I have 60 bucks?” You interrupt him, avoiding his angry eyes.

He melts. “Sure.”

You walk back out the door, head held high right to the little corvette that sits at the end with the cheeky asshole sitting contently, waiting for his treat. The window is still open from earlier in the night, which works right in your favor.

“Here,” you toss the bills at him, allowing a small smile to grace your face at his confusion. “Since you’re so worried about being paid.”

As soon as he understands what you’re telling him, his face curves into a scowl, embarrassed, but too proud to say so. “Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”

Halfway back up to the house, you turn back to the car as the engine growls into the night. How does that make sense? you wonder. Why am I being called a slut when I refused to put out?

The front door to your house slams shut again, and your dad receives the message that you would not like to talk about it. “Ed called just now, by the way,” he mentions as you reach the top of the stairs. Your pause in gait tells him you heard him, but you don’t respond because you can hear the smirk he wears, as much as you repeatedly tell him that Eddie is just a friend.

The flowers you thought so fondly of now have a looming presence in your room, like a dark shadow menacingly waiting in the corner. You ignore them as you lift the pastel phone to your ear, dialing the number you know by heart.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart.” Relief washes over you, instant and comforting.

“Hey, Eds. How was your date?” You and he had the same plans tonight, you just hope it turned out better for him.

“It sucked,” he sighs, sounding like he’s rummaging through his messy chest of drawers. “She didn’t want a date, I guess.”

“Well what did she want?” You ask, going through your own drawers for something comfier to wear.

“Uh, to be shown a good time,” he answers dryly, the sound of rummaging coming to a sudden stop. “Heard the rumors of Munson’s magic fingers and apparently only wanted that.”

Yikes, you think. Eddie’s had many hook ups in the back of his van, but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them. Your heart hurt for him last week when he admitted they rarely, if ever, reciprocated.

You didn’t think it’d be an appropriate moment to tell him you would happily reciprocate for him.

“That’s extremely shitty. Guess it’s not all that different from my date though, who expected payback from spending a lousy sixty bucks.”

“Payback?”

“Asked me to suck his dick and pointed to it,” you say, a million times more bluntly than you could to your dad.

“I knew that Daniel guy was an asshole,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I think our shitty dates deserve each other.”

You laugh, holding the PJs you plan on wearing as you sit cross legged on your bed. “To be honest, I don’t think Daniel would’ve been all that great in bed anyway.”

“I could’ve told you that. He looks like he would call thirty seconds a long time,” Eddie laughs. “Sit tight, princess, I think we’ve earned pancake night at Benny’s.”

“C’mon, I was just about to get comfy!” You whine.

“Nah, wear the pretty dress. It deserves to see a strawberry milkshake, don’t you agree?”

Honestly, a milkshake night with your best friend is exactly what you need. “Sure. See you in twenty?”

“Eh, ten.”

You throw out the flowers, tossing the vase full of water into the kitchen sink, shrugging when your dad gives you an apologetic look. You certainly are already over it, just another asshole in Hawkins, who would’ve thought? When the loud music from Eddie’s stereo pulls up, your dad nods in understanding, telling you to have fun as you leave through the front door.

The date night dress you wear is a summer dress that sits just above your knees, held together by spaghetti straps decorated with pretty blue florals. It's a dress you go to for formal events, and even saw a dance or two back in high school. Of course, you had to dust it off for the cute boy in your Psych class who ended up being a complete dickwad.

The fabric of Eddie’s beat up van is familiar. So familiar that you could argue his passenger seat has a permanent indent from your ass. Eddie has, in fact, pointed it out from one night stoned in the back with him, giggling as you vehemently denied it. At your sudden quiet shut down stature, he patted your ass gently, claiming that he didn’t want any other person’s ass planted on his seat except yours.

That conversation, as hazy as it was, stayed in your mind for days after the fact.

Eddie’s dressed in his own version of a date night outfit, tight jeans exposing his knees with jagged rips under a leather jacket and plain black t-shirt. He’s gorgeous, tauntingly so. It’s not much different from an ordinary outfit, but the faint smell of fresh laundry detergent and his best cologne is the best evidence he’s all dressed up.

The loud music speaks for him, loudly, pulling off before your seatbelt is even clicked into place.

The path from your house to Benny’s is well trekked by you and Eddie on late nights when you should’ve been doing homework but ended up goofing off instead. Martha, a waitress that’s been working there well over twenty years, smiles with smeared red lipstick and too much blue eyeshadow.

You walk in stride with each other, straight to the corner booth as the husk of 20 years of chain smoking barks over the gentle music, “Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”

Shut up, you silently beg her, avoiding either of their eyes as you stare at your lap, seemingly fixated on a loose thread at the hem of your dress.

“Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Eddie winks, throwing his arm behind you on the back of the booth. “We’re just recovering after shitty dates.”

“One day, you two,” she muses, tapping her pen rhythmically on her little notepad. It’s never been the same notepad twice, always decorated with a little cartoon sticker on the front. You’re tempted to run to the dollar store and grab her a larger one, but a part of you thinks she thrives on her many little notepads. “Alright, a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, pancakes with extra strawberry sauce and fresh strawberries on top, and waffles loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles. Correct?”

You nod in unison, both aware that she insists you will collectively rot the teeth out from your gums if you insist on overdosing with sugar every damn time you waltz in late at night. She’s given up offering other menu items, having ordered extra strawberries just to make up for your love of the fruit.

Less than five minutes later, following the blissful sound of a blender, the milkshake is wordlessly dropped off at the table, closer to you as even Martha knows you will be drinking 75% of it. The sweet, pinky taste flows easily down your throat, humming softly as you dip into the whipped cream with a finger. “Best milkshake in town,” You assert.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie answers, smirking, “you never let us get a milkshake from anywhere else!”

You giggle, licking some of the whipped cream that found a home in the corner of your mouth. “I could never! It would be like cheating! This milkshake would just know,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “it would smell the other milkshakes on me!”

“We couldn’t have that,” Eddie grins, grabbing the large glass to take a sip. “Sorry your date was such a jerk.”

You shrug, already having gotten over it. You’ll just need to sit on the other side of the lecture hall from now on. “He seemed so nice.”

“No offense, sweetheart, but I could’ve told you that Daniel Moore was a shitty person,” Eddie finishes another sip of the milkshake, making a large dip in the glass as the pink slush is pulled up the straw. “He likes to instigate.”

You rest your chin on your elbow, sad the milkshake is already nearly gone. “I had just hoped he would’ve matured by now…”

“In seven months?” Eddie asks you incredulously, raising his brows past his curly bangs. His expression quickly turns curious, tilting his head at you.

“What?”

“So, you’re willing to bet that Daniel Moore has improved just based on personal speculation alone but you’re not willing to believe me when I say Steve Harrington is no longer a douche?”

You roll your eyes. God, you should’ve seen this one coming. “That’s different! I only heard about Daniel. Steve Harrington actually sat back and laughed when Tommy asked–”

“You out as a joke, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” Eddie mumbles, grinning at your shocked expression. “Well, that was like what, three years ago?”

“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve Harrington now, of all people! Listen, I know he’s also Dustin’s friend, but I find it hard to believe that you guys even have something in common,” You shrug.

“I still can’t believe you refuse to give him another chance!” Eddie playfully retorts, licking some of the whipped cream that still sits on the rim of the glass. “He’s in your Sociology class, isn’t he?”

Yeah, and he seems to insist on forcing his friendship on you, too, no matter how much you resist it. If you found friendship in Eddie, it seems reasonable to find friendship with Steve, too. Yet, there’s a little part that remembers the cruel laughter, his carelessness with others’ lives, and it ripples down your spine in a violent shudder.

You haven’t gotten rid of the notion of being his friend completely, but it’s just not the right time for you, yet.

You shrug. The topic has too much nuance for a nice dinner with your best friend. Just in time, Martha wordlessly drops off the two plates, the smile that spreads across your face is effortless. Zachary, the night chef must’ve heard about the shitty night and added extra for you, because the mountain of strawberries on the table is huge, even for your standards.

Eddie smirks, reading your mind. “You gonna finish all those?”

“Absolutely!”

-

Eddie sits on one side of the open courtyard, flicking off ashes from his cigarette as he waits for you to get out of class. He mentally reflects on his crazy afternoon, taking another long, much needed drag. The car with the million symptoms was one thing, but the proposition he got right before, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

It’s been 13 days since Daniel, four awkward classes of avoiding his glare, and you’ve decided to give up on boys completely. The one you want doesn’t want you, and the dates you’re going on don’t seem to do well no matter who you say yes to. The two offers you’ve gotten in the last week were therefore denied, realizing that even if they are cute, you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.

Before the aforementioned date, you were practically begging for someone to ask you out, but for some inexplicable reason, now you’re getting offers left and right. Somehow people just know when you’re playing hard to get.

At least Eddie’s dates seem to be going terribly for him, as well. That’s one thing you can thankfully count on.

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be as gorgeous as it is. It’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”

He flicks the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie, this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to claw its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tiled floors and fall into the depths of hell.

“She asked you out?”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per se. But a girl like Chrissy, one with pretty blonde curls, adorable smile and a sweet disposition, it’s like your worst nightmare come true.

Thanks to living in such a small town, you can recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, walking in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?” You try to keep your tone nonchalant, but bitter jealousy coats your tongue.

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen, any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this doesn’t become a new habit of his.

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you try to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what will probably be another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.

You smoke more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong hit rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.

-

A weight on your bed suddenly dips down and you sit up quickly to face Eddie sitting on the corner of your mattress with a small smile on his face. Your headphones, still playing the obnoxiously loud music that drowned out his knocks, fall off your head as you sit up. You press the STOP button, clicking loudly in the silence as you stare at your best friend.

The anxiety of his date has eaten you all night long, the only thing strong enough to distract it being music loud enough to hurt your eardrums. You always feel some sort of anxiety, but tonight was even worse, eating at your brain in fear of how painful it might be to be third wheeling with him after being his #1 for so long.

For once, you can’t tell how it went. A slimy, selfish part of you is hoping he shares bad news. His smile breaks. Into a bigger, much brighter beam. Damn.

“How did it go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Eddie slams himself onto the bed next to you, hiding his eyes with his hands with his dimples deep, his pearly whites exposed. “Fuck, it was the best date I’ve ever had.”

Your heart shatters. “That good?”

“God, she’s– much better than I thought she could’ve been,” Eddie answers, peeking out from behind his hands. “It’s fucking crazy.”

Of course Chrissy Cunningham, a known sweetheart, is everything he’s ever dreamed of. Of course she lived up to his expectations. Just your luck. “I’m just jealous of your remarkable turn in luck, I guess.”

Eddie chuckles, turning onto his stomach to face you as he kicks his feet. “You’ll have your turn, baby.”

The pet name stings in the worst way. Instead, you raise your brow at him. “Look at you lookin’ like a schoolgirl with a crush. Pretty boy doesn’t even need makeup with all that blush.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching you on the shin. “You’re such a shithead.”

“Yeah, well you still choose to hang out with me anyway, so, that’s on you.” It takes everything in you to ask the following question, “So, tell me about your date, will ya?”

He does. He rattles on and on about how pretty she is, how easy the conversation was, how much she surprised him, how the night ended with a kiss that had Eddie giggling. He lays next to you, leather jacket put aside on the corner chair and boots next to your bunny slippers at the end of your bed. Your small twin mattress has you close in proximity, your side in direct contact with him as he rests his head on his hands.

“She’s such a cool girl, you know?”

You’re half asleep by now, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm the slight ache in your chest. It zaps through your heart, overwhelms your senses and makes you dizzy. Your eyes flutter shut, but Eddie keeps talking softly next to you.

“Why were you blasting your 8-track, anyway?”

The question harshly yanks you out of the haze, failing to think of something that doesn’t seem completely false. You wish you were a better liar. “Just stressed out about your date.”

He gives you a strange look, eyebrows tilted. “Hmm?”

“We both haven’t had a very good track record, lately, and if things won’t turn around for me, then at least they should do one of us a favor.” Not, not the truth, but definitely an over exaggerated version of it.

“You’re so good to me, you know?” Eddie asks, intertwining his hand with yours. “Wasting your anxiety on me.”

The rings are harsh against your skin, squeezing your fingers tightly. The physical hurt is almost comforting in direct contrast to your emotional hurt.

His scent is comforting, as it lures you like the pied piper into the land of sleep. It’s about another twenty minutes until he realizes there are soft snores coming from you. He doesn’t care to drive all the way home, despite it only being a five minute drive away.

He falls asleep to your comforting breaths, allowing your hand to remain engulfed in his.

-

The loud ringing of your phone jerks you awake, quickly crawling to the side of your bed as you grab it from the dock housed on the floor.

“Hello?” Sleep sits deep in your voice, spelling out clearly to your caller that you just woke up.

It just occurs to you that you could’ve just allowed your dad to answer it.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Eddie’s voice is chipper, alarmingly so since you’re not even awake yet.

“You sound way too awake for someone that didn’t believe in waking up before 1pm,” you quip, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

“Ha,” he deadpans, yet it's clear he’s smiling. “Chris wants to meet you. I mean, I know you’ve already met her, but you know, as my girlfriend?”

Ugh. It’s been a harrowing three weeks. “Yeah, sure. What did you want to do with her?”

“I thought we could introduce her to pancake night,” Eddie sheepishly answers, like he knows you would be hesitant to invite someone into your holy ritual.

Yeah. You don’t want to invite her. But…you asked for patience last month and it seemed that the universe has answered with a lovesick Eddie Munson.

“I don’t see why not,” you lie, finding it rolls off the tongue much easier than it used to.

“You’re the best! I’ll see after you study in the library, yeah?” He knows your schedule. On Thursdays after the morning Sociology class, you opt to crawl up into a small corner and hermit yourself with snacks and a pile of books to get the work that needs to be done finished.

In high school, you could get away with doing minimum work and passing, but with your dad paying and barely able to afford it even with his second job, it sent the need to do your work to the best of your ability for once. You owed him at least that much from all the calls of missed classes for four years straight.

“Sure.”

As you stretch while hanging up the phone, you glance over to the alarm clock to see the time and it lurches you forward in bed to scramble for clothes, textbooks, and scattered papers as your lecture starts in less than twenty minutes. You’re usually already sitting in the seat by then.

On your way out the door, your dad is surprised you’re still home, offering to drive you. You don’t want to burden him even more than you already have, so you insist you can ride your bike and still get there on time. Well, at least you hope you can.

The bike rack is nearly full when you get to the college, six or seven locks messily put around the poles, most bikes already fallen over. You jam your bike in between two of them, hurriedly wrangling the annoying coil of sturdy cable between what you’re sure is entangled in someone else’s lock, too. Whatever, they should’ve been more organized.

The clock on the wall tells you class started three minutes ago and your heart falls to your stomach, knowing the professor is a stickler for punctuality. His words falter as soon as you enter the hall, the heavy door echoing its creak against the walls. He graciously allows you to sit and get situated before he continues. He makes examples of every late student, and you figured you would never be in his laser eyed focus. Well, before your alarm decided not to go off.

The last chair available is the corner chair in the front row, the one spot in class you love to avoid. It’s too close for comfort, a place he often chooses for students to answer his questions even if they don’t raise their hand.

That, and it’s right beside Steve Harrington.

His fingers raise from the desk as a greeting, sharing a sweet smile as you start to collect your textbook and notes. You awkwardly smile back at him, your attention snapped back to the professor as he pointedly talks right at your desk in his lecture. Fuck, this’ll be annoying.

By the time the three hour lecture ends, your hand hurts from the amount of notes you wrote down, one side covered in graphite from smudging the paper. Your stomach grumbles, asking loudly for lunch after neglecting to eat breakfast as usual.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve follows a step behind. “That lecture was brutal,” You hear from behind you. You toss your head over your shoulder to glance back at him before turning back around.

“I guess.” You say awkwardly. Here we go again.

“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”

Neither did you. “They’re doing great, from what I hear. Haven’t really met her, yet,” you answer, heading straight to the small cafe that has a home in the heart of the campus. “Listen, Steve, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”

You stop midstep, turning to face him. “It’s not that. I just don’t have the capacity for it, ok?”

“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.

Your jaw drops, stuttering through an empty sentence. “I do not like him!”

“Really?” Steve laughs, crossing his arms as he watches you build a brick wall around yourself. “So you not wanting to talk about his new girlfriend has nothing to do with the way your face fell when I asked about it?”

How the hell did Steve Harrington pick up on it so fast, of all people?

“Even if I did, why the hell would I want to talk about it with someone I don’t even know?” You sigh, looking wistfully over to the cafe. “Besides, I’m not even caffeinated yet.”

Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the said cafe. “Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”

“If you add a wrap to the deal, then I’ll think about it,” You say dryly, pulling a laugh from him.

The barista, a student who you’ve gotten to know is somehow managing to do pre-law and work part time smiles nicely.

“I’ll get a vanilla latte with nonfat milk and an extra pump of vanilla, please.”

Steve raises his brow at you before making his own order, “I’ll get a medium black coffee with room for creamer, please, and whatever this lady wants from the menu.”

You scan until you reach the egg omelet wrap with mushroom, bell peppers, and tomatoes. “The loaded omelet wrap.”

After Steve pays he meets you on the handout counter. “Why nonfat milk and the extra pump of vanilla?”

“If I get nonfat then I can replace the sugar with the extra vanilla.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”

You pick up the cup as it lands on the counter, wincing at the temperature on your tongue. “It works.”

Steve grabs his, shaking his head as he makes his way over to pour some creamer in.

The wrap is soon presented as well, steaming in its cardboard sleeve as the scent alone pools on your tongue with saliva. The only thing that got you through that lecture was just the thought of lunch.

Steve meets you at a two-top by the window, setting his own bag down as he sits right across from you.

The omelet, much too hot to eat, sits waiting for you on the chestnut brown table as you sip on the latte. The latte is much too hot as well, but you’ve never had enough patience to wait for that caffeine kick. If you weren’t so afraid of your professor’s wrath you would’ve shown up another ten minutes late with a coffee cup in hand.

Steve allows you and himself a few minutes of quiet before he speaks. “So, why don’t you tell him?”

You cough mid sip, mentally apologizing to your lungs for allowing non-oxygen to make its way in. “I’m sorry?”

“Stop pretending. Eddie was dead on when he said you were a bad liar,” Steve says, grinning with stupid smirk on his face.

“Why have you and Eddie talked about me?” You ask, narrowing your glance towards him.

“Are you kidding? You’re all he talks about,” Steve shrugs, so nonchalant that you have no choice but to believe him. “Kind of annoying, actually.”

“Why?”

“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”

You huff in laughter at how distraught he genuinely seems by it, his face contorted into someone who definitely isn’t used to rejection. You cock an eyebrow at him. “Can you exactly blame me?”

“Yes! I can! Everybody loves me!” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, and damn it if you can’t help but find it mildly amusing.

“Hate to break it to you, there, sweetheart, but the people who were picked on by you don’t exactly crave to be around your oh-so-wonderful presence.”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Picked on? I mean that’s a little harsh, considering–”

“Fine, yes, you didn’t exactly jeer, or outright bully even, but you watched and laughed along and sometimes that feels even worse,” you admit, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “Tommy and Carol said shit, that’s just what they did… But sitting back and watching sometimes is just as bad. You were nice, sometimes, I guess. But the fact that you had that capacity for kindness and chose against it just spoke volumes.”

“I met them in seventh grade. They weren’t as bad back then, mostly just somewhat belligerent. They got worse over time, but we all had terrible home lives, it was like we were the only ones that got what that was like…and somewhere along the way, I forgot that just because we had an excuse didn’t mean they had the right.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you answer, glancing at the omelet, debating taking your first steaming bite. “I mean, I’m not condoning it, but sometimes loyalty can be blinding.”

“I’m not that douche, anymore. I got that knocked out of me when I was seventeen. Literally. Now I spend most of my free time with a high school junior,” he laughs, taking another large sip of his coffee.

“Aah, Dustin,” you hum, thinking of the many instances where he had tried to convince you of what Steve had just told you. What made you so insistent on denying believing in either of your friends seems to dissipate, however, just in the friendliness that Steve radiates alone. Damn his charisma. “Would you believe me if I said he vouched for you many times?”

“The kid loves me, what can I say?” He shrugs, not hiding his laughter. “Now. Back to you. Why not tell him?”

No use in hiding it. If Steve can bare his soul in the middle of the day at a damn cafe just to get you to trust him, you suppose you owed him the same. “‘Cause he doesn’t feel the same,” you answer, starting to peel open the snack from the hunger pang. “Why make it weird when there’s nothing that could come from it?” You shrug, looking down sheepishly as the weight of your words sink into your heart like a stone.

“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.

You hesitate. “Is this a trick question?”

“Nope. I just wonder if you truly believe it, or if you’re too scared to let yourself have something you’ve wanted for so long.”

“Where do you get off on acting like you’re some sort of expert on this?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question rings out from the mere fact that he is dead on the nose. He couldn’t be any more right. The very idea that Eddie had even an inkling of what you had for him scares you to death. You would rather keep him as a friend and lie in wait than lose him from a great love and not have him at all.

“I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he admits, twirling his almost empty coffee cup. “I’ve heard countless hours of Eddie talking about you, yet I haven’t heard him speak once about Chrissy. That says a lot, don’t you think?”

“Well, me neither, and I’m his best friend. Don’t get down on your luck.”

“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”

“You seem to be very convinced of something that is not real,” you tell him, garbled from the bite of omelet you’re in the middle of swallowing. “If you keep this energy up when you’re studying, you would probably do pretty well for yourself.”

“Fine. Remain in denial. I don’t care. You can destroy yourself from the inside. Who cares? Just, let me in. I need someone to help me with these assignments. They are mind numbingly dull.” He throws his hands up like he’s admitting defeat.

“You need a study buddy?” You laugh, hiding the food that sits in between bites. “I suppose that could be arranged.”

“Sweet. Now are you gonna treat me to a coffee every now and then, or?”

“I have a single father, not an unlimited credit card from Daddy’s big business, Steve Harrington.” You say matter-of-factly, jabbing your finger towards him accusingly.

“Oh, so I have to provide the newly released movies and buy the coffee, I see how it is.”

“Privilege breeds responsibility, Stevie. I don’t make the rules.” You give him a half smirk. As you look at him, you’re finally seeing the person you thought could see all those years ago behind the mask of his terrible friends. Steve’s ambush would be the best thing to come out of the next few weeks.

Because it turned into hell.

-

As your hair runs wild behind you, there’s a grand attempt to allow yourself to let the wind distract you from the sinking feeling in your gut. It grows bigger and bigger, until it becomes unbearable as you reach the gravel lining the trailer park. You allow your bike to fall heavily on the trailer, taking a moment to collect your courage before knocking on Eddie’s front door.

It feels weird knocking. You can’t even recall the last time you did. But, you refuse to overstep any boundaries that might not be communicated yet. Being on Chrissy’s good side will make your life a lot easier.

Eddie answers the door, out of breath and sweating with wild eyes and even crazier hair. “Hey!”

“Hey,” you greet, stepping in right behind him. You blink, taking in the pristine surroundings. It’s like stepping into an alternate dimension, one where Eddie and Wayne regularly cleaned their trailer and preferred the smell of lavender over stale beer and greasy pizza boxes. The kitchen is spotless, the living room has a lit candle sitting on the coffee table, and the shelves containing the million mugs were dusted. “Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend?” You laugh.

He chuckles sheepishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as protection. “Uh, is it too much?”

“Better warn her now so she doesn’t get used to cleanliness,” you answer, watching as the surfaces around you sparkle and shine.

“Ha, ha. I have to get dressed. I have some snacks on the kitchen counter. You mind starting the popcorn?” Eddie doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer, already walking to his room.

You get a glimpse of his bedroom as he shuts the door behind him, smirking at the clothes still scattered on his floor. At least one part of this little haven of yours remains normal.

The popcorn shakes in your hold as you continually stir it on the stove to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the thin aluminum bottom and burning. Just as the first batch of kernels reach their limit, a knock from the front door hits, each one feeling like a crack in any normalcy you’ve ever had.

Things will never feel the same ever again. Not after tonight. On your way to open the door you try to tell yourself that it can be a good thing.

Right?

The door opens to the once head cheerleader of Hawkins High, wearing a pink dress that fits her tiny frame nicely with blonde curls and bangs that beautifully frame her face. Her hands are folded behind her back, standing meekly in white sneakers and long lashes and blue eyeshadow. It’s hard not to be envious of how pretty she is.

It’s clear she’s not expecting you to open the door. “Hey! Sorry, Eddie’s just in his room. He should be out any minute.”

“Oh. Ok,” she enters as you back up, wringing her hands together, probably out of anxiety. “What movie did he rent?”

“You know, I was so busy making fun of him for cleaning up for once I didn’t bother to ask,” you admit, hoping to make the atmosphere just a little bit lighter.

She looks around the place, seemingly taking it in. “Hmm,” she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”

“Sure,” you answer, walking back to the kitchen, hoping the popcorn isn’t irredeemably burnt. “Do you want butter on the popcorn?”

“Yes please!”

You’re in the middle of mentally begging Eddie to come out already while the butter melts in the microwave, the hum of the microwave loud in the silence.

“Okay! I’m ready!” Eddie announces, opening the bedroom door with a flourish. “Sorry for the wait!”

As he gets to the couch behind Chrissy, he wraps her in a big hug and plants kisses all over her neck. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

You hold back the nausea as you pour the hot butter all over the popcorn in the large plastic bowl. You find it ironic that this is the same bowl you’ve held back Eddie’s hair over as he hurled into it. You just hope Wayne thoroughly cleaned it.

“Popcorn is ready, can y’all help me bring the chips and candy?” You ask, shaking the bowl to coat the butter over each kernel.

“We can do that,” Eddie answers, grabbing Chrissy’s hand as they walk to the kitchen.

“How can I help?” Chrissy asks, arms open as she looks around a kitchen she has no familiarity with.

“Um there’s some soda in the fridge, grab me and Ed a Coke, and you can grab yourself whatever you want,” you answer, pointing to the twenty year old fridge in the corner.

“Hand me some,” you command, holding a single hand for one of the many bags of snacks Eddie juggles.

The popcorn and a couple dozen little bags land on the coffee table in front of a blank tv screen. Chrissy sits with a soft grunt in between the two of you, cradling the cans of coke and sprite in her tiny arms.

She distributes the cans, handing them over to you and him. Eddie squats in front of the TV, pressing play on the tape which he apparently already prepared to watch. His plaid boxers peek out of his jeans, sitting above the studded belt as he adjusts volume and picture.

You share a smile with the blonde, opening your can and wincing at the loud hiss. You keep thinking about the days you and Chrissy will look back on how awkward this was. How the first days of this trio were so weird, and off putting, and how she thought you were a bitch when she met you.

Where she’s a friend.

You have to try.

“What are we watching?”

Eddie turns around slowly, that over exaggerated smile on his face that tells you he’s up to nothing but trouble. “Oh just a little somethin’”

“Oh god,” you wince, knowing that look on his face. You lean into her, whispering, “Hope you like horror.”

Chrissy turns to you with wide eyes and a queasy smile. “Not really.”

“Oh, this one is a classic,” Eddie promises, animatedly using his hands as he crouch-walks back next to her. “If any movie can turn someone into a horror fan, it’s this one.”

As soon as the music starts playing you recognize it. It’s a tune you’ve heard many times in his living room, subjected to it too many times if you had anything to say about it. Of course, you’ll watch it with him every time, regardless.

“Halloween? Seriously? The serial killer stalking the babysitter? You couldn’t think of anything else?” You roll your eyes. He could probably do a whole reenactment of the movie word for word if he tried.

“It’s a classic for a reason, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you, grabbing the bowl straight away. Of course, he will rip through the popcorn, he always does.

You feel Chrissy tense up, not that you can blame her. You suppose a talk about proper pet names will be necessary.

Each bag of snacks is eventually opened because you can’t stick to one bag long enough to finish it even if you tried. You get bored of the same taste too often. You have your favorite few, fuzzy peaches, M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, Swedish fish, and last and most controversially, at least where Eddie’s concerned, salt and vinegar chips.

He always has his own snacks at his disposal from nights of having the munchies, always on a dollar store run for said snacks. At each movie night he restocks, both yours and his alike, and suddenly you realize you will need to remember Chrissy’s too, if you’re going to be cordial.

With each bloody death that splatters the walls on screen, Chrissy grows closer and closer to Eddie. There’s a part of you that has considered using scary movies to cuddle up to him, but you’re just not genuinely scared of them enough to consider it. The ruse would’ve faded eventually. You try not to let the jealousy eat you up from the inside, no matter how much it burns your skin.

His arm wraps around her, petting her shoulder gently as she whimpers at the slash of his knife. “It’s corn syrup. Totally fake. You can tell by the color, it’s way too bright.”

Towards the end, the loud, chirpy, nauseating sound of kissing fills your ears. Your eyes can’t help it, they move towards the noise and immediately regret it. Oh god, they’re kissing. If you can even call that kissing. He’s practically engulfed her mouth.

Surely, with the company they have, they’ll stop, right? Their heads will remember and sheepishly get the fuck off each other? Right?

Two scenes and what feels like forever, later, you realize how wrong you are. “I’m glad you two are crazy for each other, really I am, but can we please wait until I’m gone?” You give an awkward laugh to try to stifle the discomfort coursing through your veins.

Eddie makes a surprised sound, almost like he completely forgot you were there. “Shit–sorry.”

Chrissy doesn’t make any apologies, in fact, you miss the way she rolls her eyes against his chest. She wanted to keep going, hoping you would take her hint to get lost.

Before long, the end of the movie finally arrives, the end credits rolling with that famous piano tune. Chrissy has practically stitched herself to Eddie’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist. The popcorn bowl is nearly full. All that work on it for nothing.

You sigh, about to claim that it’s your cue to leave when–

“I’m thinking we should show Chrissy one of our pancake nights, don’t ya think?”

No. You don’t want that. From the way Chrissy completely tenses up, neither does she. But for his sake, you both reluctantly agree.

Hawkins looks a lot different from Eddie’s backseat.

As the ring of the bell against the glass door announces your arrival, Martha’s head snapping up from the magazine she’s buried her nose in. “Hey you two, I was wondering when I would see you again!”

You and Eddie walk directly to the corner booth, as per usual, Chrissy trailing a half step behind him with her left hand intertwined with his right. Before Martha walks up to the booth, she starts the blender, the sound oddly comforting for how uneasy you feel.

“Well, looks like we got ourselves a little straggler! What’s your name darlin’?” She asks, the notebook she now holds a dark purple instead of the red she had last time.

Chrissy stares blankly at her, curling back into him. You don’t remember her being this shy in High School.

“This is Chrissy,” Eddie introduces her, giving her a fond look. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Martha’s penciled brows raise straight to her ruby red hair, the chewing gum loud in her silence. Her surprise only lasts two seconds, shifting into hospitality for the new member. “Welcome to these two’s many, many nights spent here at Benny’s. In fact, could you make them come a little less often. We’re starting to get annoyed at them.” She jokes, throwing a wink at you.

You laugh with Eddie, taking note of the fact that Chrissy is still silent.

“Alright, well I already know what these two want, did you need a second to look over the menu?”

She nods.

“Alright, well, I’ll be right back with your milkshake.”

“Can you make it one medium, one large with two straws?” You ask Martha, sure it would get more awkward if she brought one for you and Eddie to share.

“Oh, sure,” she answers, her voice unusually soft.

Less than five minutes later she returns with two milkshakes and a menu.

“Oh,” Chrissy comments, looking curiously at the pink ice cream drink in front of her. “I don’t really like strawberry. Can I get vanilla instead?”

Your forehead meets the table, punishing yourself. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to ask.” Eddie apologizes.

“It’s fine.” Chrissy smiles sweetly at him.

“Oh, you gotta eat breakfast, it’s tradition,” Eddie mutters, switching her page to the all day breakfast menu.

“Hmm,” she responds, pointing to one of the menu options. “I think I’ll get the poached egg with the avocado toast.”

“Alright. Should be out quickly,” Martha answers, grabbing the milkshake from them.

“How often do you guys come here?” Chrissy asks, turning her face to Eddie.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably more often than we should. Like when shit goes sideways, or we need a hit of sugar, or when we just feel like bugging Miss Martha, over there.”

“When did you start coming?”

“My junior year,” you answer, smiling at the memory, “his second attempt at senior year, we both didn’t want to go to the stupid school dance, so we decided to get dressed up and come here, instead.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?”

Eddie shrugs, petting her shoulder with his thumb. “We thought it was dumb. Then, we ened up coming back when both of us failed this one really important bio test. Then, by the third time she remembered our orders and had the blender going by the time we sat down.”

Eddie asks how your day was, so you inform him you managed to have a civilized conversation with Steve Harrington. You have an audience for the conversation, one member animatedly interested, the other politely listening.

Polite is definitely the way to describe it, no spark in her eye. At least, not the one she wears when she listens to her boyfriend speak. In fact, you can practically see them glaze over.

Just as you nearly avoid explaining the main topic of the awkward conversation, Martha comes back over with two plates, one for you, one for Chrissy. It’s only half a moment until she’s back with the new milkshake and third plate.

The mountain of strawberries is bigger than average this time, this larger size becoming something you might get used to if the staff continues to spoil you like this. You take another flick of whipped cream from the top of the milkshake, suddenly realizing you’ve barely taken a sip the entire time. Damn, it’s usually half gone by the time you get your food.

“Do you guys order the same thing everytime?” Chrissy asks, looking at both of your plates.

“Yup!” You exclaim, spreading the strawberry sauce around your plate.

Her blonde brows furrow. “Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,” she comments, cutting at her squishy green toast. It doesn’t look appetizing to you in the least.

“It’s not like we come here every night,” Eddie laughs, spreading his sprinkled whip around the fluffy waffle. “It’s fine to indulge every now and then, you know?”

“Maybe you guys should try something a little healthier?” Chrissy asks, her voice having what you think is a little bit of a bite in it.

“People don’t exactly come here to eat healthy, Chrissy,” you laugh, thinking of the menu item called Heart Attack Jack, which is a burger doused in American Cheese with layers of bacon and a bucket of grease. It’s not going to be a soccer mom’s number one choice for health.

“You don’t have to bite my head off, it was just a suggestion,” Chrissy mutters, curling into herself.

“I-I didn’t,” you reply, very surprised at her knee jerk reaction. “I’m just saying, if we wanted to go somewhere to eat healthy, we probably wouldn’t pick a greasy diner in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m not sure anywhere in Hawkins really has the healthiest choice.”

“Chris, what she’s trying to say is that eating a crap load of sugar is just tradition at this point,” Eddie says, intertwining her hand with his. “It’s a part of our ritual. You don’t have to eat like us if you don’t want to, we just thought you’d want to be included.”

“It’s just a lot of sugar, is all.” She’s barely taken a chunk out of her food, resembling a bunny in the very small, very tiny bites she continues to take. “Maybe I won’t join you guys next time. I don’t really understand the point.” She says sheepishly.

In the depths of your soul, you feel at that moment you would probably never get along with her, have given up hope on her completely. It wouldn’t be for a handful of weeks until you acknowledge that you had sound reasoning.

The bill is paid, money hitting the table on your and Eddie’s parts, the vanilla milkshake just barely touched. If you knew she wasn’t gonna drink it you would’ve doubled down on the strawberry, Eddie hates vanilla.

As you walk out to the van, trailing behind them as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, you find yourself at an impasse. “Eddie, can you give me a ride home?” Chrissy asks. She moves on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”

The pancakes you wolfed down churn back up your throat, threatening to make their second appearance for the night.

Eddie’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he tugs her in. Guess that answers that question. “Um, do you need a ride?” He asks you, almost avoiding your eyes.

Chrissy’s death stare is plain as day, silently warning you not to take it. Fine, you didn’t want to sit in the van with these two, anyway.

“No, it’s fine. I can grab my bike from the back.”

Chrissy beams, her curls bouncing as she jogs to the passenger seat. You hope your ass imprint is uncomfortable for her.

Eddie returns with the bike, putting it gently down in front of you. “Hey, Ed?”

“Hmm?”

“Might want to teach your girlfriend how to whisper,” you tell him, grabbing the handles from him. “It’s not considered a whisper when everyone in a ten foot radius can hear!” It comes out harsher than you intend it, but with how horribly tonight has gone, you can’t bring yourself to want to apologize.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie swears, the pink in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” you insist, dismissing it. You had a feeling she said it loud enough for you to hear on purpose, anyway. “Just use protection, ok? We don’t need any more Munsons in this world running around, creating chaos.”

If you got Chrissy pregnant I would actually be sick, is what you mean.

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, wrapping you in a hug over the bike. “See you next time, slugger.”

That was when you changed from sweetheart to slugger.

-

There’s no whiplash like discovering your best friend is a completely different person when he’s in a relationship. On one hand, phone calls with him are as ordinary as always, teasing and jeering and flush with the familiarity of a best friend.

On the other hand, when you meet with him and his girlfriend, he seems to dampen his wild personality and slice it into ribbons for her sake. It kills you.

Reruns play on the small tv, old cartoons Wayne recorded for a rambunctious little kid in his mix. You’ve watched them enough to know some of them by heart, especially your favorite gags.

Eddie sits in the corner of the couch, curled up with Chrissy on his lap as they talk quietly. They’re low enough you can barely make out what they’re saying, but from the giggles alone, you have no interest in the nausea it would give you.

She was already in his lap when you got there, a sarcastic comment choked back having something to do with maybe getting off, opting to sit on the other end.

“Oh, Ed, the movie is next Friday,” you remind him, taking another sip of the ice cold coke in front of you.

“Remind me what that was?” Eddie asks you, peering his chin over Chrissy’s head.

You narrow your eyes, scoffing in incredulousness. “Uh, hello? I did not wait in line for hours for the Princess Bride just for you to forget!”

“OH, fuck I didn’t realize that was coming up so quickly!” Eddie exclaims, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, shit I’ll make sure to free my oh-so-busy schedule!”

“Sweet.”

“Oh, I totally wanted to see that movie!” Chrissy chirps, sitting up in Eddie’s lap. “Are there any more tickets for the night you guys are going for?”

“It’s been sold out for weeks,” you shrug, chomping on a potato chip. “I stood in line for like six hours that morning.”

“Oh,” she mutters, curling into him.

You wish you could say it doesn’t give you great pleasure to know she won’t be able to crash your movie night.

“You think, uh,” she starts, turning around to face you. “You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”

You scoff, bewildered that this even crossed her mind. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I really wanted to see it and it doesn’t really make sense for you two to go out for a date, now that he’s dating me…”

“I think you forgot the part where I stood in line for six hours to get these tickets,” you reply, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He’s avoiding you.

“And I’m sure we’ll all go next time!” She offers as an almost smug smile plays at her lips.

She can’t be serious. After watching her face, you realize she is fully expecting you to give up your ticket so she can go with him. Guess that Iron Maiden concert coming up this summer is off the table, too, you think, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

You look at him, waiting for him to say something to indicate how ridiculous his girlfriend is being, to stand up for you.

Oh. He’s not going to.

“I really don’t see the big deal.” Chrissy scoffs.

Of course you don’t. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you my damn ticket!” you snap. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”

Which is ridiculous, Eddie was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place. It looked like it was about adventure, something Eddie loves in movies. You decided then sure, since his birthday is right after the movie comes out, you’ll stand in line for the tickets then treat him to a fun movie night.

If Chrissy is uncomfortable with that, then that’s her prerogative, but she can choose something else to do with her boyfriend since she wants to so badly. You won’t let her walk all over you.

Chrissy doesn’t answer, but she’s clearly upset by yours. “It’s alright, babe,” Eddie hums, tugging her up against his chest so she curls into him. “I can wait until it comes out. We’ll just rent it, yeah?”

You’re not sure which makes you more nauseous, the fact that he just made a plan with her that won’t come to fruition for six months, or that he had nothing to say in the conversation.

You’ve never felt so unwelcome on his couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you later.”

Whatever comes out of Eddie’s mouth then falls on deaf ears as you fight the tears that irrationally threaten to spill over your water line. They’re stupid, your emotions are stupid, the movie is stupid.

-

Steve sits on the other side of the light brown table in the library, hunched over some notes as you explain the concept to him once more.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to forget this as soon as we learn it,” Steve whines, rubbing his eyes.

“Well you’re only taking Sociology because you haven’t claimed a major yet and sociology is required in most degrees.”

“That’s true,” he smirks, stretching his arms. “This still is all starting to look like gibberish. I get it, we live in a society in which the rules are not in our favor, why does that have to be studied to this intent?”

You shrug. “It’s fascinating.”

“To who?”

You roll your eyes, wondering how he grew on you like a weed. “Alright, we’ll take a break, then.”

“Any plans upcoming for next Wednesday?”

“Uh, no, at least not that I’m aware of,” you answer, putting your highlighter down. “We were supposed to see the movie for it, but, well you know how that turned out.”

“I’m sure there’s something he’s planning,” Steve assures, tapping his pencil rhythmically. “It’s not like him to not make a spectacle of his birthday.”

That, you agree with.

“Dustin said he hasn’t heard anything about it, either. He almost planned a surprise party for him. You think he’s just taking it easy this year?”

You doubt it, he’s turning 21, after all. Not like hasn’t been going to bars since he was fifteen, but now at least he’d be able to go into a major city with his real ID without getting flagged. Last year he prattled on about plans for this one, how he was gonna have a big rager at Steve’s and drop a whole paycheck on kegs.

You’re sure if he was going to do anything in those next two days, then he would’ve told you by now.

That Wednesday morning, you rise early to the sound of your alarm.

The kitchen counter is already filled with the ingredients you need, preparing for a labor of love. You hook your Walkman to your jeans, listening to the music blaring in your ears as you add one ingredient at a time, watching the batter slowly come to shape.

It’s familiar, your mom’s famous homemade recipe for cake batter. After missing her many cakes and the familiarity of her food, you finally searched for the cards containing her neat print, clearly and concisely telling the reader what her recipes needed.

It became your favorite thing to do when you missed her.

As you pour the batter into each divet in the tray, you recall the first time you thought to make a birthday cupcake for Eddie.

Neither of you cared much for first period, so it was easy to catch him before he woke up. That day you presented a vanilla cupcake with a swirl of black and blue frosting. You learned that morning he hates vanilla.

Every other instance of making him a cupcake has been a litany of flavors, but never vanilla.

As they bake, you whip up the frosting with a hand mixer, hoping the low hum doesn’t wake your father. He works so hard already. Red food coloring turns it from white, the process all too satisfying.

A plastic sandwich bag with the corner cut off is always just enough for you to pipe frosting on, the skilled hand you’ve trained after trial and error working fast.

Your dad always knows on February 19th he will wake up to 11 cupcakes on a big plate.

The pastry sits in a comically large container as you borrow your dads truck, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as you climb the stairs to the Munson’s front door.

You balance the cupcake in your hand as you head straight down the hall towards Eddie’s room. The sounds filling the trailer take a moment to register, for some reason not realizing how quiet it should be on an early weekday morning. The only sounds should be that of an early bird or newspaper hitting the front door.

Dread finds home in your stomach, as if on a very instinctual level you realize what you’re hearing. Though for some crazy, masochistic reason, those instincts wanted to be sure.

His door, wide open, reveals him hunched over Chrissy with the blanket barely covering his broad shoulders as he’s rocking. He’s rocking…and oh, you can hear her, too.

She’s moaning, whining, clawing her nails up his back like a leech, or worse, a tick, digging itself in and refusing to give up the tight hold they have on their victim.

Your mind goes empty, numb, until you hear her faintly wish him a happy birthday. You blink yourself out of the trance, blindly stumbling back into the fresh air of the living room. The cupcake lands on the kitchen counter on your way out the door, not caring as it slams behind you, definitely alerting Eddie and Chrissy of the third unknown presence in the trailer.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to even care about it, the queasiness deep rooted in your stomach threatening to make itself known on the outside plants.

You have a class in less than an hour, something you need to continue into the second year of your Communications degree, but not something that requires brain power.

The simple question of how you managed to ride your bike all the way to the campus, take notes in your class and blindly walk over to the library will always escape you. You somehow watch yourself go through the motions until you meet Steve at the cafe.

The moment he sees you, he knows something is wrong just by the deadened stare that’s taken over your face.

When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.

You’re in love with your best friend. And while you’re doing your best to be happy for him, your poor heart can’t handle it.

-

The cupcake isn’t mentioned until you call him two days later, still heartbroken, but missing his voice. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, despite the great ache that makes each and every day fuzzy.

Usually, more than half the cupcakes get eaten by him, which is why a dozen are made each year. There’s still more than half left, the very sight of the cupcakes depleting your appetite as his continued absence carves a bigger and bigger hole in you.

He answers on the fifth ring, sounding as if he’s in the middle of rummaging through items in some way, slightly out of breath. “Hey, Chris, sorry I can’t find–”

You swallow the pain. Maybe the lump of pain swallowed in your stomach will finally evict itself like the contents of stomachs should. Yet, the more you throw it up, the more it seems to gather. How does that work? “It’s me.” You say dryly, tiredly.

“Shit,” he breathes, the background noise coming to a sudden halt. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. How was the cupcake?”

“The mysterious appearing pastry was delicious as always, slugger.” Slugger. “What-what time did you drop it off?”

You know that he knows that you heard something. He doesn’t know how much you heard, but he knows the slam of his front door was you.

“I didn’t hear much. Just enough to know you had already received your birthday present for the year,” the attempt at humor doesn’t hit you very well. You’re not sure how it’s received, but Eddie laughs regardless.

“Sorry about that, she slept over the night before unplanned. I should’ve remembered your yearly morning cupcake.”

“Should’ve remembered you have a girlfriend,” you answer, wishing you had that better judgment. “Did you do anything for your birthday?”

“Chris took me out for dinner with her parents.” Honestly, that sounds like it was for her more than it was for him.

“Sounds fun,” you deadpan, earning earnest chuckles from him.

“They’re an acquired taste,” Eddie offers, allowing your slight criticism of his birthday party.

“You sure you still don’t want to go to Indianapolis and bar hop?” You can’t help but ask. It’s like you can hear his reluctance to accept the celebration he got.

“Nah. Besides, we can’t risk your fake ID, after all.” He pauses, an understated sigh passing through his breath. “How has school been?”

Small talk is not often something that passes through a conversation between you two. You’re aware of it, he’s aware of it, and it turns the conversation into something almost jilted.

“I miss you,” you admit, lying back on your bed.

“I miss you,” he parrots, soft and sweet.

“Can we do something? Just you and me?”

He chuckles, low and under his breath. “Sure. Pancake night. Just you, me, and Martha’s perfume.”

…that never happened.

-

The less you see Eddie, the more you end up hanging out with Steve. He seems to want to introduce you to his own best friend, but your admission of not wanting to be a third wheel again gets him to drop it. You can’t help but notice the only times you speak to Eddie are when you call him. He hasn’t called you since asking for Chrissy to join pancake night.

That alone wouldn’t entirely convince you to not call him anymore. The jilted conversations always ending with promises of time with one another never coming to fruition. It’s the equivalent of being skinned alive, one strip at a time.

Steve has watched the circles under your eyes darken, the enthusiasm in class deplete, and the lust for life dissolve before his very eyes. To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.

Yet, Steve knows how unlike Eddie it all is. Dustin has complained he hasn’t been called back for a long time, Gareth reached out to you asking if you’d heard from Eddie lately as they haven’t rehearsed for a while. He garners more concern than anger at times.

Steve’s living room has become a new choice of hang out space, but the unnatural cleanliness of the house, the lack of cologne that both Eddie and Wayne use, the familiarity of eight years of friendship, it gives this unrelenting feeling of emptiness. It’s worth trying to fill it with edibles and weed.

It doesn’t seem to work, but you’ve become more open, more free willing with him as a direct result. He doesn’t favor horror movies like you and Eddie, but you find common ground in action and slapstick comedy, instead. Anything but romcoms, you implore. Anything even close to resembling romance is rejected.

Steve spills the latest he heard from Hawkins’ elite country club group, a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do with their afternoons than spread rumors about the population as a whole and judge them for it. Steve knows for a fact which members of the country club have side women, bringing them in hours after walking in with their own wives.

It’s so nice to be concerned with the lives of others and to not care about yours falling apart at the seams. Well, really it's being ripped apart by Chrissy Cunningham’s greedy little claws.

Ironically enough, you get paired up with Steve for a major assignment in Soc class, one required to analyze social constructs that have been deep dived in class. Another little gift of irony is you were given Social Stratification, which is the hierarchical arrangement of individuals or groups within a society based on various factors such as wealth, power, and prestige.

Being from two very different classes, you and Steve find yourself uniquely qualified to discuss the topic.

It provides opportunities to hang out together, distracted by the collective want to not work at all, but driven by an looming due date. Your mind wanders to Eddie non stop, wondering how he is, if he’s ok, if work is still giving him a hard time, did he finally get the belt he was needing, if Wayne was taking it easier.

Your fingers itch for the phone to call and ask, always haunted by the memory of each phone call, the polite conversation and empty promises. You crave to remember what it was like before.

Steve seems to act as your voice of reason, disencouraging you every time you mention wanting to call him. He sympathizes, of course, but he recalls the last time you called him and the aftermath following it.

When the assignment is finally in the last stages, making final edits to clear up any loss in conciseness, the final second guesses if the point has been made clear, you sit on the floor of Steve’s room cross legged, going cross eyed as you reread it, again.

“I can’t wait for this thing to be handed in,” you groan, throwing your pen at him.

“I think we earned a celebration,” he sighs, throwing the pen back to you. “On Friday, after we finally hand over this paper to this asshole, I am throwing a big ass party in your honor.”

“A party will not make me feel better,” you reprimand, glancing at him under your brows.

“No, but a good excuse to drink the pain away, might,” he grins, leaning forward on his stomach and kicking his legs animatedly. He looks so innocent, as if he doesn’t have his own agenda. You’ve come to know him well enough that he really doesn’t. “C’mon. Let loose with me just for one night!”

You reluctantly agree to it after he pulls out his dumb puppy eyes.

News of Steve’s party spreads fast across campus, and you find yourself curiously excited for it when you usually dread dancing with complete strangers. The strangers at this point make it better, not needing to concern yourself with anything other than how the alcohol burns.

Your dad drives you to the party, the rain heavy on the pavement making it hard to bike in such weather. He’s noticed the way you’ve shut down a little bit as of lately, more than happy to bring you to a party if it means putting some life back into the eyes of his one and only daughter.

When you enter the door with slightly damp hair just from the walk from the truck, the party is already in full swing, music overtly loud, bodies bumping and dancing, empty cups already scattered on dusty surfaces.

As soon as you see Steve, he waves you over, talking to Robin, who he’s introduced you to. She became your friend the same way he became your did; ambush. Turns out, Robin is really cool. She hands you a beer, winking as you tilt your eyebrow out of skepticism.

“Beer, really?” You ask over the music, turning the bottle around in your hand.

“You’re drinking to forget, right?” She asks, an air of wisdom in her scratchy voice. “Then what does it matter what it tastes like?”

Well, you guess she’s right. You grab another from the fridge while you’re at it before they lead you to a couch. It’s surrounded by a crowd of people you mostly have never met before, more than happy to laugh with them at the particularly stupid topics of conversation.

You’re already pretty buzzed less than an hour spent at the party, having asked Steve to get you a third bottle. “Might wanna slow down, sweets.”

“I’m drinking to forget, remember?” You ask him, winking cheekily.

Time starts to meld together as the bottle gets emptier and emptier. Robin grabs you by the hand to dance with her and Steve in a circle, top 40 pop acting as a soundtrack while you forget any goddamn trouble that might have plagued you.

You’re chatting about some mindless gossip when something tells you to turn your head towards the door. The door opens to Eddie and Chrissy, holding hands as they look around the party that got even rowdier since your arrival.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, frozen in place as the emptiness his absence has left consumes you.

“Oh shit,” Robin mutters right next to you, but you don’t answer it as you stumble your way into the kitchen.

The internal debate on whether you need to drink water or more alcohol is roaring, so you drown it with more alcohol. Maybe you can shut it up. It’s too fucking loud. The ajar door opens and closes, a presence in the kitchen you don’t bother acknowledging. You don’t smell Eddie’s cologne, the momentary disappointment flooding your senses that he saw you and didn’t even bother talking to you.

Another sip. Another gulp. Make it go away.

“I was wondering when I would run into you,” it’s not Eddie, or Steve. Confusion takes over you as you wonder which male voice in your life you’re forgetting, turning to face the culprit.

Daniel.

“Here I am, I guess,” you mutter, taking another swig. “What exactly do you want?”

“Retribution.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, cruel and blunt. “I’m here for what I’m owed, sweetheart. I don’t get told no. Girls don’t say no to me. So, I think I’m owed some payback for the humiliation you put me through.”

What the fuck?

The laughter that leaves your throat is loud and abrupt, clearly not what he’s expecting. “Oh my fucking god, you’re just delusional. Girls don’t owe you shit for buying them dinner! You ask us out for a date, that’s on you, bud!”

“I don’t fucking think so,” he growls, slinking in closer. You can smell his breath, he’s clearly been drinking. “I will get what I want, I always do.”

Panic floods your brain, suddenly realizing he’s being dead serious. “Wait–” you protest as he leans in, the wall and your back colliding harshly. “Wait, no–”

“All you had to do was blow me, baby,” he chides, as if he’s reprimanding a small child. His hand harshly wraps around your waist, preventing you from weaving from between him and the wall. “Now look what you made me do.”

You try to push him off, panic continuing to push up your throat as he proves himself much stronger than you. Oh god, am I about to get raped in Steve’s kitchen?

His hand feels slimy as it pushes past your shirt, sending a jolt of shivers down your body. You’re shaking from fear, one cheek against the wall as you continue to resist him. “Stop– Daniel, please stop–” Your voice is frantic, eyes wide in terror as you try to push his hands away.

The harsh laughter directed at your pleas are cut off, an incredibly familiar voice slicing the air with malice. “She said stop.”

The heat you were surrounded by is thrown off, leaving the cold air behind Daniel to overwhelm you as he’s thrown onto the floor.

Blows of fists on flesh fill the room, watching in horror as Eddie has him pinned, delivering blow after blow to his face. You only see a portion of Eddie, his dark jeans and leather jacket as he hunches over his victim and blindingly delivers one punch after the other. Daniel has stopped fighting back, just a limp set of limbs as it jumps from each hit.

When Eddie has shown no signs of letting up you’re forced to jump into action, stumbling as you run into his line of eyesight. “Eddie, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You plead.

The sounds of brutal fists on soft flesh die immediately, Eddie huffing as he rises to his feet. “You okay?”

You blink as his hands frame your cheeks, petting them softly with his hands. A tear falls, splashing his hand. His concern is comforting, but the direct juxtaposition of his concern from the silence he’s fed you the last few weeks washes over you, confusing every emotion that has been hurting.

Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”

He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wander back over to the fridge, grabbing a beer from the second six pack you’re working through. You pop it open from the mounted bottle opener, taking a handful of sips. “You’re kidding me, right? You haven’t called me in weeks. Weeks.”

He stands there, blankly watching.

“I might be more forgiving if it weren’t for Dustin and Gareth and hell, Steve also saying the same thing. None of them have heard from you. You went from calling at least once a week to radio silence! I wanted to get along with Chrissy. I really did. I started all the conversations, offering snacks, asking questions about her, letting her set her boundaries, but she had something to say about everything we did together!”

Eddie stutters, blinking as he watches you talk. He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t try to defend himself. You don’t give him the chance.

“She clearly doesn’t respect you, otherwise you would still be my best friend and I would remember the last time we had a normal fucking conversation. I get wanting boundaries, but at this point, I don’t think she even wants you to have friends! Is that what you want? A girl who makes you make yourself smaller for her sake and isolate completely? Really? Because that’s what you have. No horror movies? No more junk food? No heavy metal music? She’s making you shrink yourself so she deems you desirable! Fucking– I can’t watch it anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean–” he’s interrupted by the door closing, a yelp filling the room as Chrissy runs to him.

“What happened to your fists?” You glance down to them, seeing bruises lining his knuckles.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Alright. Well. I meant exactly what I said. I can’t do this one sided friendship thing with you anymore,” you take another swig, wondering how the bottle was already so light. “I can’t. Call me when you find my best friend, because I haven’t seen him in three months.”

You leave the room, ignoring the calls from his mouth that suffocate you. As you stumble into the living room, you catch Steve’s eye right away, chin trembling. The hot tears that trail down your face have already drenched your cheeks by the time you realize it’s even happening, choking on the emotion that drowns you.

Steve guides you into the guest bathroom, closing the door as he watches you attempt to stop the sobs long enough to tell him what happened.

“I think–” you hiccup, sniffling loudly, “I think I just lost my best friend–” tears rattle through you once again, just saying it out loud feels like lightning in its startling ability to shatter you once more.

By the time the sobs diminish again, you’re sat on the floor by the tub, head sitting in his lap as he pets your hair. You sit up suddenly, mid hiccup as you give Steve an odd look.

He almost asks if you’re okay when you spill over his lap, whimpering between gasps as you know what you’re doing, the toilet only a foot away, but it continues to explode from your stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” you explain, tears falling again, as he sits in shock.

He grins sadly, undoing his belt. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

He finds someone, Robin, to grab him a second pair of pants, ditching the ruined pair in the bathtub.

The dry heaving seems to stop the tears, now staring blankly with a wet face and lashes that stick together. Steve brings you upstairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brings you to his bedroom.

As your head hits his pillow your eyes fall closed, mumbling something about fucking up, about three months ago.

Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.

From how your sobs shook your body, he might give him the whole thing.

-

The light cascading through the blinds hurts, like a dagger through your brain as you take in your surroundings. You don’t know how you got into Steve’s room under his blanket.

As soon as you sit up, the pain stabs you, pushing you back down. Ow. You don’t even attempt to get up again until the urge to pee hits you, when it’s too much to ignore. You rub your eye, tip toeing to try to get back under the dark blue comforter decorating Steve’s bed.

On the corner of the bed Steve sits, one foot resting on the other knee as he holds a jade green drink. “How badly does your head hurt?”

You wince at the volume of his voice, placing your hands over your eyes. “Not great.”

He winces sympathetically, offering the smoothie. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Blurry images flash through your mind, the kitchen, Daniel, half of the second case gone. You attempt to remember past that point but it comes up blank. “I remember running into Daniel.”

As you sip on the surprisingly delicious hangover smoothie, Steve watches you, wearing a clear expression of concern.

“Anything after that?”

You can tell he’s egging you on, digging for something with an unprecedented seriousness in his tone. But there’s no memory after that. You gingerly shake your head, which sends more needles of pain through your skull.

“Why?” You ask weakly. Steve pauses, ruffling a hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh.

“You really don’t, huh?” Steve asks, one last attempt. “Maybe it’s good you drank as much as you did, then.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.” Images of worst case scenarios course through your mind. What did you do?

Steve pats the spot on the bed next to you, double checking you don’t feel the urge to throw up. You don’t.

“Daniel tried to force himself on you.” He’s gentle, compassionate in his admission as he watches your reaction.

Huh. “How far did he–” you stutter, breath hitching as you bite back the sobs that suddenly threaten to rake through your body.

“He was interrupted before he even got that far,” he comforts you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he caresses it. “Eddie sort of bashed his face in.”

Now that you think about it, the memory of Eddie hunched over Daniel as he delivered blow after blow to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. You didn’t see the final result of Eddie’s defense, but the bruised knuckles you vaguely recall spell out how brutal the retaliation was.

Eddie.

“What–” you pause, stuttering through your breaths, “what happened after that?”

“You yelled at Eddie. Berated him. I think you even told him you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. At least, that’s what I gathered from what you told me,” he admits.

Your blood grows cold. From the weeks of silence, the jilted conversations, the slow resentment that bloomed through your stomach for him. The ache already hurt just from the absence of your best friend, but it was good for you. Fuck, this hurt.

“Is that all?”

He laughs, pulling your head into his neck. “Just that you can’t hold back your liquor.”

That’s why your breath tastes like vomit.

From the extra strength tylenol he gives you, the rest of the morning is spent helping Steve tidy up the trash around his house. Only after spending twenty minutes in the kitchen on his hands and knees scrubbing up the red stains does he allow you to help him. You only catch a glimpse of the paper towel soaked in dried blood and bleach when throwing out red solo cups, a small hint of the mess Eddie made of Daniel.

The thought of his name is a self betrayal, and you work faster once it crosses your mind.

Once the place is clean, you allow Steve to drive you home at his insistence, repeatedly asking when he pulls up to your house that you’re sure you’re okay.

Your dad is at work, not there to ask any questions you wanted to avoid from the previous night, namely why your eyes are swollen from tears. The blinds in your room fall with a trill resembling a xylophone, blocking the sun from your intense migraine.

For the first time in weeks, you’re stirred awake from sleep from the ringing of the phone on the floor that has been pushed under the bed. You let it ring.

Just as sleep pulls you back in, you’re abruptly startled as the phone alerts you again. You roll over, ignoring it as you wrap your head in your hands, curling into the pillow. No one has to get a hold of you that badly.

This person does, it seems, as they call you again. You groan, crawling over the edge as you grab the phone from your receiver. “Hello?”

You refuse the want to chew them out, to take your emotions and friendship breakup out on the person who has interrupted your sleep.

“It’s me.”

You lurch forward in your bed, still tethered to the receiver by the tightly coiled wire as it forces the receiver to scuff against the hardwood floor. Eddie.

-

Eddie’s sat on his couch, limply resting his head on the couch arm as the shrill voice of the main character complains over a problem that could be solved if she had just told someone. His hand rests on his eyes, shielding himself from the light to prevent the headache he can feel coming on. He’s given up on suggesting other movies by now, but she somehow seems to only play the movies that get on every last nerve.

He would probably be more willing to watch the romcoms in question if they weren’t the bottom of the pack. Last time Eddie even suggested a romcom he actually doesn’t completely hate he had to hear about it for an agonizing twenty minutes. Fine. She could watch her movie, he can practice on his guitar, right?

You would think.

So he dissociates and focuses on the gentle petting of his calf as he rests his leg on her lap. His mind floats to his best friend, how much he misses the smell of your shampoo, or when you make fun of the cheesier horror movies he loves to watch. If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.

Chrissy continues to insist that you like him, that you’re trying to steal him from her. It turned into many fights where Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend. There is a stubborn, immovable force still holding hope that something will just click one day and realize just how wrong she is. There’s a little nagging part of him, eating at his brain, warning that it probably won’t ever come true.

The possibility is almost too much for him to mentally handle, because when it blows up in his face and you decide not to forgive his radio silence, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle the absence in his life. So he procrastinates the detonation.

“I’m surprised you’re not going to Steve’s party,” Chrissy chirps, interrupting Eddie’s disarray.

Eddie blinks, trying to recall any mention of a party that might’ve slipped his mind. That might’ve been the reason for his ignorance if he could remember the last time he even spoke to Steve. He’s sure Chrissy knows that.

“I didn’t even know he was having one.”

She grabs at the extra material of his jeans, pulling his attention. “Did you want to go?”

He mentally rattles through the mechanics of going to Steve’s stupidly large house, knowing damn well his distance has managed to drive you straight into the arms of someone new, even if it’s only platonic. You’ll be there, the chance much more likely than not.

He wants to see your face, even if it’s in passing. He wonders if Chrissy sees you there if she’ll decide to leave early or just avoid you altogether. But it’s just the chance that drives him to agree.

By the time he gets there, vehicles have already littered the streets surrounding his house, some even audaciously blocking his neighbor’s driveways. Chrissy’s hand is in his as he walks in, anxiously looking around the party for you.

He peers into the living room, to the couch containing members of some of Steve’s closer acquaintances and it wasn’t long until he saw you, sitting right next to Robin holding the bottleneck of a beer bottle.

Your eyes are already on his, wide and still as you stare at him. You’re even prettier than he remembered, any polaroid he’s ever had of you does absolutely no justice to your radiant smile or vibrant eyes.

Fine, you’re staring at him like you would rather be anywhere else for the moment, panic flooding your features, but it’s a breath of fresh air for him compared to his last few suffocating weeks. As you stumble to your feet, Eddie tricks himself into believing that you’ve gotten up to talk to him until you pass the front entrance straight into the kitchen.

He supposes he deserves that, fading as Chrissy tugs him to the dance floor. His hands find her hips, allowing himself to get lost in the relentlessly catchy pop tune. He can’t help but allow his eyes to float back over to the couch every now and then, something in him carnally needing making sure that you’re safe.

Alarm bells go off, goosebumps trailing over his skin as something in him screams that you’re in danger. You could very much just be avoiding him, which he wouldn’t blame you for, not for one moment, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he found out his worry had any footing.

“Babe, I’m gonna grab a drink,” he mutters, blankly kissing her sweet scented blonde hair before his long legs take him to the kitchen.

His stomach drops as your voice fills the kitchen, asking the asshole with wandering hands to stop as he forces himself on you.

The next thing he knows, Daniel is under him, his back slammed on the floor with a face scrunched up in pain as Eddie’s fists are flying. His fists, his jeans, the floor, the whining little shit’s face, it all gets painted with blood.

Eddie doesn’t realize when the pair of arms stop trying to push him off, or when the green eyes no longer stare at him in horror, shut from the trauma of one blunt hit after the other. He just continually bashes his face in for even daring to attempt to force himself on the woman he loves.

Fuck this guy. Fuck him.

Eddie’s blind with rage, but he’s also blind with his own regret.

Your voice cuts through the anger, a warning that seeps in his brain like a sponge. If he keeps hitting him like this he will end up taking his life.

He stands up, facing your trembling form as you seem to be in shock. You melt in his hold, tears spilling over his hands as he caresses you, doing his very best to take care of you. He knows the answer when he asks, but he has to hear it from you.

Finally, the words seem to sober you from wanting his comfort to the hurt that you’ve felt from his silence. You lurch yourself from him, staggering blindly to the fridge as you grab another beer. The scent was harsh on your breath, the sight of you glugging back as much as you can sends jolts through his system.

Then you tell him everything. And he deserves it. He wants so badly to tell you how badly he wanted to call you, but the excuses sound lame even in his own mind.

When you tell him you’re done is when he finally snaps out of his own trance. He knows what you mean, but surely, you don’t really mean it? Before he can ask, Chrissy comes into the picture, doting over his bruised knuckles, ignoring you completely as she asks what happened. He’s fine. He’s not, but he’ll say anything to get back to what you were just saying.

Choked back sobs escape as you tell him with absolute finality that you are done, tripping over your own feet when you leave through the kitchen door.

No, this has gone too far. Eddie hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol but feels as if he’s wasted from stumbling after you, blocked by his girlfriend.

That conversation goes as well as can be expected.

In the hours following, he doesn’t seem to find you anywhere. But without Chrissy trailing after him, he finds himself free to converse with friends he’d missed, meeting their snide remarks of coming back to the land of the living with grace. Eddie stays for hours, half heartedly partaking in any conversation he finds himself witness to just in case you make another appearance.

Steve walks down the stairs after what feels like forever, wearing a grim look on his face. Eddie approaches him. “Hey have you seen–”

“She’s upstairs,” Steve answers, sighing. “Passed out. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”

“Is she okay?”

“Didn’t choke on her own vomit, at least,” Steve quips, his voice harsh. “Physically, she’s okay.”

Steve moves to walk around Eddie, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Physically?”

Steve sighs, angry, frustrated. “She just sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half, Ed. I literally watched her heart break! Safe to say, I don’t think she’s doing so well emotionally.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, feeling hopeless, like he should’ve been there to take care of you instead of being the cause of your suffering. “Steve, I–”

“Listen, Eddie. I just heard a bunch of shit from her that I’m not even sure she knows that she said. Other than her I guess telling you to fuck off, what else happened?”

Eddie gulps, not exactly wrapping his own mind around it, yet. “I found Daniel Moore trying to force himself on her.”

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, passing Eddie straight into the kitchen.

“Steve–” Eddie tries to stop him, or warn him at least, wondering how no one else has seen him, yet. There is almost no reason for most to make their way into the kitchen as the drinks station is in the living room, but usually a straggler or two, especially couples would make their own way in. He’s definitely not up and partying from the blood that seeped through the shirt he was wearing…

Should Eddie have called the ambulance?

“What the fuck–” Steve barks, taking in the crumpled form before him. “Jesus, Eddie, what happened?”

“You listen to your best friend beg someone to stop assaulting them and not beat the shit out of him?” Eddie retaliates, watching as Steve double checks to make sure he’s still breathing.

“Well, now I gotta get him out of here before someone has you fucking arrested,” Steve mutters, wracking his brain through old morally questionable friends of his that would help with no questions asked. Fuck. He has a few favors to call in. “Where’s Chrissy gone?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Eddie spits.

“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters, a fragment of seriousness in the joke.

“Well, not anymore,” Eddie shrugs, feeling surprisingly pragmatic about it.

“Oh.” Took you long enough, Steve thinks. “I’m gonna get him out of here, but I suggest you do the same.”

“Can I stay? I wanna be here when she wakes up.” His eyes pleading to Steve.

Steve’s brows raise. “Respectfully Eddie, I don’t think she really wants to see you.”

“I haven’t been able to tell her anything for weeks, I’m staying!” he insists, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Steve shakes his head, leaning on the counter. God, he wished he hadn’t invited a few dozen people to come to his house for the night. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots, but, man I think you’re the bigger one.” Steve walks around the kitchen island, getting unreasonably close to him. “I don’t know if you’re blind, or just selectively ignorant. She loves you, dude! She was willing to support you getting a girlfriend, but then you just shut her out. It’s gonna take more than an apology to be back in her good graces. When she wakes up with a killer hangover, I think the last person she’ll want to see is you. God, if one of you just made the jump years ago this never would’ve happened!”

Eddie’s heart drops at Steve’s angry words, refusing to believe any of his feelings for his best friend are reciprocated. “Sure, because three months of friendship tell you everything you need to know about a person.”

Steve chuckles, walking over the snoring asshole as he steps out to the living room. “I would have to be blind not to see it. She talked about you one time about this stupid fucking movie she watched with you and I could tell. Rather than telling your girlfriend that you have a best friend and she has to get over it, you shut her out. For weeks. And left someone else to pick up the pieces.”

“Steve, I know. I know I was being an ass–”

“Then why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you give her a call? You had to know she wasn’t going to forgive you so easily–”

“Of course I fucking knew that, Steve! Why do you think I put off letting it explode in my face?”

“Because you’re an idiot! She loved you. She loves you! If you can’t see that then I really don’t know what to tell you. Listen, if you call her tomorrow, I’m not all that sure what would happen. It’s gonna be a while before she’s ready to forgive, bud. For now. Maybe you should go.”

-

“Oh,” you sigh, hugging your knees into your chest, feeling small. A war rages in your mind. You were hurt enough by him to break your friendship off with him, but you don’t even remember it. The other side of you just wants to be close to him again, willing to sink into the apologies that he owes you and happily accept them.

But you shouldn’t. And you know you shouldn’t.

“Do you wanna come over for a movie?”

You want to come over and watch a movie so badly, it wraps around you and constricts your airflow. “Will she be there?”

“No. Just me and you. I promise,” Eddie swears, voice low enough that it resembles a whisper. “She won’t be, uh, crashing our movie nights anymore.”

You diminish the pulse of hope that threatens to bloom. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighs. “I was hoping to tell you in person, but we broke up last night…come over, I’ll tell you more. I just need my best friend…and a horror movie…and junk food, god, I miss junk food.”

You miss him so much it hurts. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The bike ride sends pulses through your head, worsening the ache of the hangover. If the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow, you might just ask someone to shoot an arrow through your head to put you out of your misery.

It’s been more than long enough since the last time you were on his front door step, nervous as you hesitate to knock. Eddie’s footsteps are rapid and loud as soon as your knuckles hit the door, the opening to him, wide eyes, graphic t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He appears unlike himself, almost tired. You wonder if you noticed it last night.

Before either one of you says a word, he tugs you in, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace in his scent. Overwhelming emotion takes over, his shirt absorbing the tears that fall. He feels like home, every part of him. His scent, the muscles flexing under your grasp, his steady breaths.

“I missed you,” he mutters, his voice low, choked, even.

Then why didn’t you call me? “Me too–” you whimper, squeezing onto him even tighter. You sniffle, curling your head into his neck.

The hug lasts forever, or at least long enough for your arms to become numb.

Your butt lands on the couch, the spot that was once permanently marked by you now weirdly lumpy from the lack of use. Did Chrissy know she was allowed to sit in her own seat on the odd occasion? On the coffee table, Eddie has already prepared the popcorn and your favorite snacks, only your favorite snacks. Three movies are laid out, all awaiting their turn in the VCR.

“What’s this?” You ask, rubbing your nose from the snot.

“Uh, three movies. Pick one.”

You read the titles, Back to the Future, Friday the 13th, and Labyrinth. “What happened to wanting to watch horror movies?”

“I have a lot of sucking up to do before I get to be picky with our movie night,” Eddie answers, his voice gentle and careful. “Pick one.”

If he says so, then you’ll have to pick your favorite, rather than his favorite. “Alright, then, Labyrinth it is. David Bowie in leather pants, here I come!”

As the movie plays, a teenage girl desperate to find her brother, you sink into the comfort of the ratty old couch. Through Eddie, you found out that the rattiest couches are actually the most comfy. The more tears and rips, the better. Eddie stands up, running to the kitchen to grab fresh cans of soda from the fridge.

He sits back down, handing you a Diet Coke while popping open his own. Two things you notice when he sits. One, he’s remarkably close, his ass nearly planted in between the cushions. Two–

“Since when did you start drinking diet coke?” You ask him, wincing at the aftertaste.

“Since Chrissy was such a stickler for sugar,” he answers casually, grabbing a bite of the popcorn.

His simple tone, emotionless and understated, squeezes your heart. “What happened with her, anyway?”

Chrissy blocked him, staring at him with wide eyes as she held his shoulders. “What–what is going on?”

“I need a minute,” he stuttered, attempting to walk around her.

“Did you do that?” Chrissy asked, pointing to the lifeless piece of shit on the floor.

“Chris, it’s really not a good time, right now. I will tell you later, I promise. I’ll be right back.” Eddie promised.

She blocked him again, hands pushing on his broad shoulders. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after her, are you?”

“Chrissy, she’s my best friend! That creep just tried– I have to go check up on her, make sure she’s okay!”

“You mean the girl who is pathetically in love with you?” Chrissy asked, belligerent and full of sass. “Sure, go and give her more false hope! She was practically all over you at the diner, mooning over you, desperate to take you out on a date, I mean, don’t give her fucking hope!”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his face angrily. “I don’t know how many times I need to fucking tell you, Chris. She is just my friend. She was being nice, trying to include you. I’m so fucking tired of this conversation!”

“So am I!” Chrissy crossed her arms, popping her hip out. It was times like these Eddie was absolutely sure of why Chrissy and Jason dated for so long. “You know what? Fine. Me or her.”

“What?” Eddie was unsure if she was being serious.

“Pick! Me or her? Because when you pick me maybe then she’ll get the fucking hint!”

It was the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life. “Her.”

Eddie finishes explaining it, mostly nixxing the parts where she berated you or talked shit. You just needed to know the part where she practically had a temper tantrum.

“Wow,” you mutter, remembering how you called Chrissy sweet when they first started dating. “And…you, you picked me?”

“Of course I did.” Eddie pops a kernel into his mouth, leaning back into the couch. His body heat is warm, his scent intoxicating. “You’re my best friend.”

“You haven’t called in weeks, Eddie.” It comes out quietly, the hurt overflowing in your body and pouring out your mouth. “I thought you had a new best girl.”

Eddie sighs, grabbing your hand. “If I could take back the last three months, I would. I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I missed you so fucking badly,” you admit, focusing on how your hand feels intertwined with his.

“I missed you. I know– I fucked up, but believe me when I say, I missed you so fucking much.”

On one hand, it’s hard to believe him. It seemed like it was so easy for him to cut you off. On the other, the glint in his eyes, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, gentle and unequivocally vulnerable.

Eddie leans forward, connecting his forehead to yours. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“You have a lot of making up to do, mister,” you inform him, pulling away from him to lightly nudge his hair.

“And a million strawberry mountains covered in strawberry sauce,” he answers, kissing your forehead softly.

“You really had me worried,” you admit, taking a good look at his face. “I believe you when you say that you missed me, but Eds, you hurt me. I want to trust you, but–”

His movement is swift as he grabs your face with his hands, pulling you in close. “I know, baby, I know.” The pet name takes your breath away, music to your unsuspecting ears. The name wraps itself around your like a warm hug, melting all those months of worry and panic away. “I’m so fucking sorry, if I could just–”

Maybe it wasn’t the right timing, months of silence, unanswered questions, hurt, but all that just conveniently disappears the moment his lips touch yours. You startle, jerking backwards as you look at him curiously, looking for something that’ll tell you he’s not kissing you out of pity, or obligation.

You’re met with the exact way that he always looks at you, but this time, it’s radiant. How did you miss it this whole time? You smile, wrapping your hand behind his neck as you tug him in, entangling his lips with yours and chasing that emotion that ran through you the first time.

Eddie meets your kiss with enthusiasm, grinning madly as he pulls you in closer, your body flush against his as he pulls you down with him.

It’s maddeningly enchanting, the way you can taste his minty breath and his hums against your lips, buzzing and tickling. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, pulling a gasp as you happily meet his with yours. Your skin feels electric as his hand sneaks under your shirt, as if he’s just getting the feel of you.

You sigh, curling your arm around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. His kisses trail along your jawline, down your neck, pressing sweet kisses down your jugular. “You taste like strawberries,” he mutters, audibly smiling. “I should’ve known, all those damn strawberries you eat.”

“Before we go any further,” you gasp, clutching at his t-shirt, “and believe me, I want to, you owe me a proper date.”

“Taking you out for a date, baby?” He places more rapid kisses on your neck, letting himself absorb your laughter. “God, I’m lucky.”

-

You’ve learned one thing for absolute certainty, Eddie Munson knows how to grovel. Between the many kisses you’ve shared that night you tell Eddie with surety that just because he knows how to kiss doesn’t mean he’s suddenly forgiven. Eddie relishes in that, grinning just because you’re kissing him.

The previous night he was losing his mind at his ex-girlfriend’s terrible movie choices, and you, his best friend, the person who has always known him best, you’re finally here kissing him. You could ask him to write a 1000-page apology letter entirely in rhymes or haikus and he would do it heartbeat, but all he’s required to do is prove it?

He’s more than willing.

When the date is proposed, he swears he would love to take you anywhere. He provides a list, with all of the restaurants you know he can’t afford. When you ask him and inquire about such, he shrugs casually. There’s a silent question there, wondering if Chrissy had even considered his wallet size before their date nights.

Instead, you answer with, “Our first date should be the diner, no?”

You’ve never been so nervous before, looking through your small arsenal of date night dresses. He’s seen all of them, whether from a school dance or the aftermath of a date gone sour. One dress catches your attention, at the very back of your closet covered in plastic, just waiting for the right time.

White, with blue flowers hand embroidered on the bodice, a sweetheart neckline and bubble gum pink ribbons tied together as the straps. Periwinkle blue that bleeds into mint green leaves along the hemline, fanned out into a hoopskirt. You’ve stared at this dress when it sat in your mom’s closet, asking when it might be your turn to finally wear it.

The dress fits you like a glove, looking remarkably close to the photo on the easel downstairs, a first date 25 years ago that ended up being one of your favorite bedtime stories.

As you finally make your way down the stairs, hair half up in curls in a ribbon matching the ones on the dress, your dad looks at you with pride and glossy eyes. Whispered words of the resemblance as he hugs you, eyes too tired for a man in his forties from loss and stress, a whiff of gratitude hits you.

It’s a warm spring evening, no need for a coat as the van pulls up with the usual melodies of heavy metal and drumming. You make your way down the sidewalk to his passenger side, butterflies erupting as you open the door.

The volume is turned down to a background noise, the heavy metal feeling oddly out of place at such a low volume. “Hi, sunshine.”

You grab his hand, petting at his calloused skin. “Hi.”

You feel his eyes on you, taking in the dress that is on its first night out in decades. “I don’t know how you show up looking this good and expect me to act normal.”

You grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and sniffing at the leather. He can’t say shit like that and expect you to go on like normal. “C’mon. I haven’t had a strawberry milkshake in ages.”

You open the window just a crack, appreciating the scent of fresh grass in the spring. New beginnings, fresh starts, rebirth. It seems oddly poetic.

He pulls up to the diner, bright neon lights against an evening sunset. It looks as if it’s painted, yellow into orange into blue. A lonely diner isolated sitting against a watercolor sky, but one of your favorite places in the world.

The bell ringing feels like an old song you haven’t heard in years, bringing some bittersweet nostalgia.

Martha perks up, the diner even deader than normal with only a lone man sitting on a bar chair holding a milkshake like a beer. The comparison sends a gag reflex through your body, never wanting to even smell another beer in your lifetime. As you sit next to Eddie, in such close proximity that the other side of the booth is useless, Martha appears with a cheeky smile on her face.

“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,” she sighs, hands on her hips as if she’s chastising two kids.

You and Eddie glance to one another, debating on fucking with her. It’s all the approval she needs.

“Finally! If you came in my diner again with those puppy dog eyes of yours I would’ve about had it with you two. Now, are you getting your regulars again?”

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulders, his thumb petting the bare skin of your shoulder. “I’m disappointed you haven’t already brought the milkshake, Martha.”

“Smartasses. The both of you!” She walks off, a brand new pep in her step.

His thumb turns under your chin, pulling your face towards his. “C’mere. I need to make up for the times I just wanted to kiss those pretty lips in this booth of ours.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, breathless as you stare at his eyes.

“I didn’t think the prettiest girl I know would want to kiss a goofball like me,” he chuckles, self deprecating and vulnerable.

You shake your head sadly, sighing happily. “You are so wrong.”

His chuckles are interrupted by your kiss, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt clinging onto his chest. It’s like you to forget how to breathe, taking the moment to take a deep breath before kissing him deeper, harder.

Your tongues meet, wrapping together with his and leaning forward to be as close to him as possible. His hand lands on your thigh, petting it roughly as he teases you. You hated yourself, hated how you told him you wanted to wait, because it’s becoming too much. The need for him sits deep in your stomach and begs you for any resolve from his teasing hands.

His kisses keep you only so satiated, whimpering by the time your make out sessions are done and ready to beg him to touch you already.

The glass of pinky sweetness hits the table, interrupting his electric lips on yours. “If you two do it, at least have the decency to take it to the bathroom like every other patron.”

You yelp, avoiding Martha’s eyes as Eddie tugs you in against his chest, kissing your temple. “Yes ma’am,” Eddie obeys, saluting with two fingers. Two, very distracting fingers.

You take a sip, humming. After weeks, you will proudly proclaim that this is still the best milkshake in town.

Eddie kisses your cheek, pulling you even closer. “If you lick that whipped cream off your finger, so help me god.”

It’s a habit of yours, one you’ve done at least once a visit just to get a taste of it before it sinks into the milkshake. The numerous times you’ve done it sinks in, unknowingly teasing him. “Something wrong with tasting whipped cream, Eds?”

“When you do it with that tongue of yours, yes,” he mutters, nipping on your jawline.

“Why don’t you have a taste,” you hum, taking a scoop with your pinky, licking it up.

Eddie pulls you in, humming as his tongue reaches out for yours to grab a taste of the cream melting fast in your mouth. He pulls back all too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he tuts his tongue. “Mmm. Yum. Thanks, baby.”

The milkshake is nearly gone by the time Martha rolls around again, pancakes and waffles in hand, interrupting soft conversation and sweet nothings.

He finally tries a taste of your pancakes, eating from the fork you offer him. His face winces, screwing up as he chews on it. “That strawberry sauce is sweet, ain’t it?”

“A little sour, I guess, but it’s my favorite. The fresh strawberries are a nice little addition.” You tell him, cutting up the pancakes.

“I’ll stick to my sprinkles,” Eddie mutters, dipping a piece of the big fluffy waffle in the whip. “They are the best.”

“I have a question,” you mutter, relishing in the taste of the sweet strawberry sauce. “How-how long have you liked me? Was it more recent, or have you liked me for years?”

Eddie smirks, placing a stand of hair over your shoulder. “Years.” He chokes back the correction of the word like, cause it’s so much more. “The first time I saw you, you were giving one of the football dicks hell for picking on one of the scrawny little freshmen. And I mean, berating him. You’re shy, baby, but not when it comes to others.” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “I knew from that moment.”

Oh. It was a handful of months before you found yourself sitting by the hellfire table, shaking your head at their antics. Plus, Gareth was just plain wrong in his opinion, you shook your head disapprovingly as you dug your nose in the book. Eddie caught on to it, demanding you join their group and inform him of how wrong he was. You did. You didn’t realize how charming Eddie was, how welcoming and genuinely kind.

It took your breath away, especially how gorgeous he was. The crush was kindled from then on, only being nurtured as you continued to debate him and his friends on their nerd culture.

Eddie followed up with the same question, asking how long ago for you, too. You tell him that very story, of how he enamored you just from being around him.

“You know, by then I was already head over heels for you,” he admits casually, sipping the last of the milkshake. “Something about sticking it to the man just does that to a guy.”

“Those dimples of yours are a weapon.” You admit in kind, and he laughs. You drop your jaw incredulously. “They’re a weapon! You think your hands are the only things those girls call magic?”

Eddie leans in, hot breath on your ear sending ripples down your neck. “And have you thought about these magic hands of mine, sweetheart?”

You gulp, licking your lips as your heart races in your chest. “Maybe...” You say softly.

He hums, tentatively kissing your skin. He really shouldn’t be doing this in a public space, you think, attempting not to wiggle at the uncomfortable feeling of arousal pooling in your panties. “I can’t wait to show you just how magic they are.”

You hold back a whimper, choking on it as your eyes flutter shut at his tentative kisses.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You nod, watching as he places the right amount of bills with a decent tip for Martha.

On your way out the door, Martha shouts her goodbyes, happily yelling out her congratulations as the glass door slams behind you. Eddie’s lips find a home on the back of your hand, holding it as he kisses loudly, tickling the skin.

The trailer sits alone in the park, all lights off as he pulls up. With the turn of a key, his arm wraps around your waist as you walk in sync. It’s familiar as you help him turn on the lights, domestic, even. His jacket is off, tossed on the couch as he tugs you by the hand towards his room.

You’ve thought about it so many times, whisking away into his room with him to devour him completely. Usually it occurs when you’re mad stoned, happy and horny, but too blizted to make a move.

Your hands curtain the back of his neck, thumbs petting the nape of his neck and tangling themselves in his curls, rubbing in small circles. His lips connect to yours, stumbling over dirty laundry as he guides you to his bed. “Hmm, strawberries.”

He yelps as lands on his back, laughing as you collide with an oof. The playful moment is quickly replaced with intensity, staring down into his brown eyes, darkened by desire. Across the years of being his friend, he’s darkened his eyes in many moments, right before he decides to pin you down and tickle you senseless or when you talk down on yourself.

There were moments when his intense gaze took you aback, mostly when you innocently used too much enthusiasm in eating ice cream or put your hair up in a ponytail.

Or when you wore a sundress that sat a bit too high on your thigh.

All these moments suddenly make sense, filling you with a gust of emotion as you grab at him, tugging him harshly for a kiss much more powerful than you knew you had in you. He gasps into it, deep and desperate against your lips as you pull him closer. One of his hands travels downward, hiking under your skirt and grabbing at your thigh, your knee pulled up against his stomach.

Eddie turns you over on your back, hands grabbing at the skin harshly, his rings pressing at your skin hard enough to create an indent. Your leg wrapped around his waist tugs him down, his chest landing on yours.

“Question, my love,” Eddie mutters, words intertwined with his kisses. “Why the hell haven’t I seen this dress until now, it’s…oh my god.”

You grin against his lips, pushing your hands past his cotton shirt. “Waiting for a special occasion.”

“You telling me I could’ve seen this ages ago, baby?” He gasps, wrapping your tongue against his, delicate but enough to make you mewl into his mouth.

“Probably.”

He nips your lip, a punishment for your cheekiness. “It’ll look better on the floor.”

Your hips grind up, meeting the bulge in his pants just right. “You can’t say stuff like that–” you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck to hold on to him pathetically.

“You have no idea the things I’ve wanted to say to you.” His hand travels further up, passing the waistline of your panties and spreading on the skin of your tummy. “All the things I’ve held back…”

The admission is thrilling and terrifying, giving you almost everything you’ve ever wanted.

Now if you could get that bike you wanted for Christmas when you were twelve…

“Can you tell me now?” you ask, smiling up at his pretty, bewildered face.

“Hmm, patience,” he tuts, using his hand to explore. “Right now I just really want to touch your pussy, please, baby, please.”

It’s your turn for bewilderment. He’s acting like touching you is this great honor, instead of a means to an end like anyone else you’ve slept with. “Uh, yeah, I want that. I really, really want that.”

Eddie sighs, using his traveling hand and dipping it under the waistband of your panties. As his best friend, you’ve gotten so comfortable around him, arguably too much. Late nights in his room with a t-shirt and panties as his room fills with smoke. Eddie is only human, appreciating them too much as as you sat cross legged with the strip just a tad too thin for what it was supposed to cover.

This particular pair is decorated in lace up the front, a sheer lace for the bum, a light blue to match the flowers. His fingers latch to your pussy, delicately moving them up and down the folds.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, playing with the slick and spreading it. “You’re so wet, all this…all this for me?”

He adds more pressure, rubbing small circles and watching you throw your head back and melt in the heat that spreads across your thighs and takes form in a tremble, in a shake. “F-feels good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit and rotating it in tiny circles. “You like the way I play with your pussy, baby?”

You frantically nod, grinding up against him. “Need..need more. Please? More?”

“What does more mean?” He leans in, decorating your neck with sucks and bites and licks. “You want me to lick it, baby? You need my fingers, you already beggin’ for my cock? C’mon my girl, use your words.”

You might just beg for his cock, but you don’t want it to be over so quickly. “Want–want your fingers, Eds.”

He giggles, planting a nice wet kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.” He doesn’t wait a second, curling one finger past your entrance and pumping it slowly, building a slow momentum that pulls at your stomach. He sighs, husky and deep, “Fuck, it’s so tight.”

He removes his finger without warning, not commenting on the moan in disappointment that escapes your mouth. He sits up, grabbing at the waistline as he tugs them down your legs, slowly, carefully, savoring in the moment. He lifts up the skirt, exposing the landing strip that sits waiting for his eyes.

“Did you decorate your pussy just for me? It looks so pretty… Thank you, baby girl,” Eddie is borderline emotional in his gratitude, showering you with praises.

Your legs attempt to close back together in embarrassment from his intense stare. He notices it, pushing your legs back down. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Keep these legs open while I eat your pussy.”

You drench your thighs, turned on even from the mere idea of being with him. “Mmkay.”

“You–” he gasps, delicately licking at the mound. “You taste so good. Wanted to bury my face in this little cunt for so long.”

His hands lift your thighs up and over his shoulder. His mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing, listening to the cues you give him through your quivers and whines. The dress is completely covering his face, hiding the man that is eating you out, slowly and carefully, as if wanting to taste every drop of arousal you feed him.

Before long, your legs start shaking in his hold from the pleasure that has your hands tangled in your hair, eyes squeezed tight as he pulls whine after whine from you. One finger slides right back in, facing no resistance, sucking on your clit simultaneously. That arches your back and curls your toes, gasping from his build up, his words, god just from the years of mental torture.

You cum against his lips without warning, for him or yourself, twitching around his fingers and crying out his name.

He coaxes you through it, kissing your pretty pussy lips gently until your legs stop convulsing. Sweat beads on your forehead, spreading on your back and neck and making the thick fabric of the dress too hot. You untie each ribbon, desperately grabbing at the neckline to pull it up and off.

He kisses up your torso, laughing as you get stuck with the dress half off. One heel digs in his back in retaliation, whining as you gesture to him to help you. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.” Eddie giggles.

You whine, kicking your legs for him to hurry up. Your hair is stuck in your dress. It lifts over your head, a light bra covering your tits acting as a tease for him. The dress lands on the floor, nice and splayed out as it’s done its purpose.

You roll your eyes, tugging him in for a desperate kiss by the neck, wandering hands moving south to tug at his t-shirt. “Wanna see you, too,” you confess, helping him rid of his shirt. “Show me those tattoos.”

“You like the tatties?” You nod enthusiastically although you know he’s just teasing you. “Oh, I bet ya do. Probably ogled them while I wasn’t lookin’ huh?”

With a chest like his, you don’t imagine he could blame you. You let your eyes speak for you, raking over his covered chest and openly staring. “Wanna suck your cock.” You look up at him with big doe eyes, silently begging.

Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission, groaning as you start to undo his jeans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last that long…I need to be buried in you, wanna feel that pussy around my cock.”

You gulp, wrapping your legs around his torso so his jeans meet your pussy, probably drenching a wet spot on the front. “Me too…but I remember you said you didn’t really get reciprocated very much.” You inhale, gathering courage. “I remember thinking how I’d love to spend hours with your cock down my throat.”

Eddie keels over you, curling his face in your neck as he whimpers. “You were holding that back from me?” He punches the mattress right next to your head, a mild temper tantrum. “What other depraved thoughts have you been hiding from me?”

“You want me to tell you, or show you?” You’re not sure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but you’re running with it, especially if it means you can hear him make that sound again.

“Sh-show me- want you to show–” he nods, whimpering into your neck and shuddering.

“Mmkay,” you muse, smirking at just how easily the shoe falls on the other foot. “Get on your back.”

He complies promptly, wrapping his arm around the small of your back and turning the two of you over. You straddle him, grabbing at his chest carefully as you plant kisses all the way down his lean torso. You bring teeth into the mix, sucking and biting and marking your territory.

You’ve been itching to do so since he showed up one morning with bruises decorating his neck, claiming his hookup got a little too eager.

I'll show you eager, you begrudgingly think, wishing that all the boys were teasing him from bruises you gave him, instead. God, there was one planted on his collarbone that was excessively large, annoyingly so.

You mark your way down his chest, his stomach, lapping greedily at his treasure trail as he whimpers at your enthusiasm. This is power, you think to yourself, wondering what other noises you could conjure from him. As your mouth moves, so do your hands, undoing his belt slowly, taking your time as you unzip his fly.

The evidence of his arousal is strikingly clear, his boxers bulging out of the open fly and begging for your attention. While your subtle glances downward gave you an inkling of his size, his hardened cock presenting itself to you, even disguised in its plaid wrapping, had you letting out a gasp in unbridled lust.

You wrap your hand around it, gleaming as he hisses, a hushed swear passing through his lips. You watch his face, observing him as you place your lips on the covered shaft, just letting him feel the heat of your breath on it. “Oh, fuck–” Eddie chokes, letting out harsh shudders.

The sight of his face is borderline angelic, all of his walls down as he focuses on you. You can’t help but smile at that, at how you desperately wished for nights like these, only paying attention to one another. You poke your tongue out, drenching the cotton fabric with your spit, working your way down the length.

At his little whines, you finally curl his fingers under his waistband, drooling at the taut cock that pops out, giving you a friendly hello, swaying from the spring. You smile ear to ear, delicately wrapping your hand around the base.

You kiss the tip, lapping at the pearl of precum that gives the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. “Mmm,” you hum at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop from his flushed tip.

You let the saliva that has pooled on the surface of your tongue drool onto his cock, spreading it down the shaft, absorbing the moan he rewards you with. “Shit, that feels–oh my god.”

You smile with pride, finally taking him into your mouth, enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. Your eyes remain on his, watching him as his face melts, committing it to memory.

“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, hips rutting up, clawing further into your mouth. You take him in further, gagging on it as you wrap your tongue around it experimentally, choking loudly and purposely. “Ch-choke on it, yeah, ch-ohmy god, just like that–”

Your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth, slobbery sounds of spit on flesh, his and yours, deliciously wet. He tenses up beneath you, whines growing more desperate, moans huskier, deeper. It’s a marvelous melody, one no composer could make even if they tried their hardest.

“St-st-stop,” he stutters, curling over himself, writhing under you. “Stop–I-I’m gonna cum.”

Reluctantly you listen, lifting your head off him with a pop and cheekily smiling at his heaving chest. You crawl upward, yelping as he wraps his arm around the small of your back and tugs you in for a kiss, more powerful, wrapped in an unnamed emotion you couldn’t possibly let yourself be delusional enough to define as. The one hand crawled up your back undoes the clasp of your bra, tugging it off your arms and flinging it across the room.

“Gimme those tits,” Eddie sighs, kneading them in his hands and toying with the flesh and nips. “Oh, they’re so pretty, baby. I love them, I‘ve wanted to play with them for so long.”

Eddie’s legs move under you, kicking off his jeans while holding you close to his chest. You sit up, tugging him up with you as you hover just over him.

His skin directly on yours, close and toe curling as you straddle his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. There’s a glow in them, eyebrows relaxed as he holds your hips, staring up at you with such enamour. “Want your cock,” it’s only a whisper, but loud in the intimacy between you two. “I want you.”

His brows furrow, only a moment. The thought passes through him quick as a flash, but you see it.

“What was that?”

He smiles, relieved and tender. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He leans in, pressing kisses on your clavicle, your neck, your shoulder, the swell of your breast. “Not-not just like this. I mean, fuck, I wanted it, so, so bad. But…I’ve wanted you, wanted your late nights and early mornings, to help you when you need to study, wash the dishes…sorry, I’m rambling.”

You pet his cheek, shaking your head. “No. Keep going.”

“I mean, we’ve always sort of had that, you know? It was just torture, not kissing you stupid whenever I wanted…because I wanted to. I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”

A breath of a laugh passes through your lips, attempting to absorb what he had just told you. “Really?”

You smile, holding him tightly as you kiss him, sighing happily as he confirms, nodding frantically. The head brushes against your entrance, pulling a whine from you. “Eds, I-I love you, too.” The kisses get more fierce, Eddie clinging onto you harder and nearly attacking your lips. “But…if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually lose my mind,” You giggle.

He laughs, combing his fingers through your hair, away from your face, from the sweat. He slaps his cock against your clit, teasing you with his head. “Of course, baby, you wanna ride me, hmm? Hop up and down on my big fat cock?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, hissing when he pushes his head in, watching as your jaw drops. “Oh, look at you, I knew you could take it like a good girl.”

You choke back a whine, swallowing hard as his words have such a strong effect on you. ‘Fuck, f-feels so good.” You stop, mewling as the burn of his girth becomes too much.

“Don’t rush yourself, baby, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on your hips, digging into the soft flesh. “So nice and tight, fuck.” His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.

You sink further, taking him deeper as the burn bleeds into bliss and back to burning again. “Jesus, s’good.”

“Mm, almost there, baby.”

“Move, please. Eds. Need-need you to move.”

Eddie chuckles, large hands holding your back. He lifts his hips, slowly filling you to the hilt and bringing it back out, one hand landing by his side to use it for leverage. You chirp out his name, mewling as he slowly rocks his hips. “Love the way you say my name,” he gasps.

You start rocking, slowly lifting your hips as you assist him. “You gonna make me scream it?”

“If that’s a challenge, then I will happily accept,” Eddie growls, gripping onto your hips harder and pulling you down so the union of where your bodies meet hurts in the best way. “Wonder when those legs will give up, hm?”

“I’ve thought about riding you on the couch too many times to give up easily,” you admit, giggling at his wicked grin.

“Oh, have you now? Been wearing those little panties just so I’d snap and ravish you, hmm?” He asks, hair wild as he watches you bounce on him.

“Maybe,” you admit, though that was mostly just out of comfort and trust of your best friend. “You have stronger will power than I thought you would.”

“Hmm, you think too much of me, baby,” Eddie mutters, framing your face with his hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

Admittedly, your legs are growing tired, but you soldier on, connecting your forehead with his desperately and watching his eyes glaze over. Your head already feels hazy, heat building in your stomach as you rapidly climb towards your climax. “You getting close? About to cum on my cock?”

You nod, startling in your movement as he starts to move you quicker with just the tightening of his grip on your hips. “Eds,” You whimper as he rubs his thumb on your clit, rapid movements as he hurdles you towards your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him as your eyes roll back.

“Lemme feel you squeeze my cock, baby, wanna feel you cum all over it.” Almost as he demands it into existence, you finish with a start, twisting your toes together and hunching over his shoulder while he rolls his hips, gasping and whining and mewling. “Oh, that’s my girl. Here, bet those legs’re gettin’ tired, hmm?”

You nod, giddily giggling as he maneuvers you on your back. “God, I love you. I really really do. I don’t–I don’t know what the fuck I’ve been thinking–”

You slap your hand on his mouth, giggling at his wide eyes. “Sorry, but…shut up. Rail me. Destroy me. We have time for all that later, now quit getting all emotional on me.” You take your hand off his mouth and pat his cheek. “Be a good boy and make me scream your name, won’t you?”

He chuckles deeply, his jaw dropping as he nips on the palm of your hand. “‘Be a good boy,’ hmm? Yes, ma’am.”

Okay, this turns you on too much not to eventually dissect it, but Eddie’s hips start moving, harsh and raw and brutal, just as you asked for. With each collision of his hips comes a whimper from the force, each one louder than the last.

His head curls down into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin as he sucks and bites and laps his tongue over the pain. “Look at your neck, all marked up. All mine,” He rasps.

“All yours,” you whisper, choking on the emotion that fills your throat.

“My good girl who loves to get fucked hard, hmm?” He chuckles, curling his arms tightly around you. “Oh, listen to those pretty little noises you’re making, so pathetic for me, oh fuck.”

“Ed-keep-oh-oh–” you gasp, whining higher and higher.

“Yeah, just like that. Pathetic little princess.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, skin to skin, all sticky and sweaty as the smell of sex fills the air.

“You’re moaning like a desperate little slut but you’re not screaming my name, yet. Can’t wait for it. Hmm? Why you makin’ me wait?”

“Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” you gasp, a smile spreading across your face.

Eddie’s eyes widen, lifting his body off yours quickly. “Oh yeah? Hands n’ knees. Turn around.” He sends a jolt of fear through you, eyes widening as move into a crawl position. “That’s a girl.”

His hands tighten on your hips, lining himself up and pushing in all within the span of 3 seconds. He’s relentless with it, lurching forward as he grabs a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, I can’t hear you.” He taunts you, pulling deliciously at your scalp.

He starts moving faster and harder, clumsily planting his lips on your back, messily trying to take any claim he can on you. One hand slaps your ass, Eddie hums, appreciating the print of his hand on your skin. Moans pass through your lips, the loud ones that Eddie was asking of you. HIs name is added into the mix, cross eyed and desperate as he somehow increases his force.

“There we are. Where do ya want me to cum, baby, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

“Cum–cum in me, Eds. Fill me up.”

“Fuck-you, y’sure?”

“Fill. Me up.” You say again, getting your point across.

“Oh fuck–” he stutters, jaggedly rutting into you as he bends over you, filling you up with sticky white ropes. “You feel that, baby? Fuck. You feel all full?”

Eddie releases the hold on your hair as you fall forward, breathing heavily as you collect yourself. He pulls himself out, collapsing right next to you. His arms easily wrap around your back, pulling you in against his chest. You curl into him, sighing happily as you listen to his racing heart.

You lay like that for a while, listening to his breathing even out as he pets your hair gently. He plants a kiss on your forehead, humming. “Why did that take us so long to do?” You ask, still trying to regain control over your breathing.

“Hmm?” He pulls away, processing your question. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re idiots.”

You tug him back in, feeling sleepy as you smile against his chest. “Yeah. Big, big idiots. I love you, idiot.”

He hums, pulling you in tighter. “Love you too, ya idiot.”

It’s strange. You thought it would change everything if he were to finally be yours. It doesn’t change anything, banter traded as always, only with a caressing hand that tugs you in for a kiss when he teases you. Hormones go wild, finding resolve in one another as movies are no longer watched, just a nice background noise.

-

Thank you so much for reading, remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

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bold means it wouldnt let me tag you so I DM'd you in private to you know.

[amiaclone]

You asked I’ll write! Gender neutral reader if you don’t mind

Tw: cursing I guess? Squid game in general should be considered a trigger over all the murdering lmaoo

*In ho sighed for the what? Fifteenth time? He’s been counting it’s what he’s trying to focus on the other thing is well……*

*When he decided to participate in these games again it was to prove Gi hun a point and mess with him a bit so he joined his “team” which well….. they happened to be in*

You were apart of it a strong person filled with determination in debt to a lot of money…..honestly in ho was shocked with how much debt you were in I mean you seemed like someone who’d make it far in live would rule against the poor like he used to be…

But you weren’t you were *trash*

You were lower lower class you were nothing…..

Yet why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

He had a wife who he fell out of love with before he even met you…..swore he’d never fall in love again after distancing himself with his family and starting the games…..

But you just had to be lucky star didn’t you?

You were “kind” and not in a pushover kind of way just….kind like kind that would not take shit from people but would help others in need….and didn’t hide your opinions from others that deserved it….

It was disgusting but…..In a good way? He wanted you not in a possessive way but in a way type of wanting to care for you and you care for him-

*He shook those thoughts off ugh. Why now? He’s usually so calm and collected…..at first he wouldn’t lie he was hoping you’d die in one of the earlier games but now….he isn’t so sure. Gi hun already has plans to take the guns and fight back he had a plan problem was…..you were apart of the main plan

He probably had to kill you it’s probably a good thing but…now he isn’t so sure he’s gotten along with you great and he has a tiny bit of hope that you even like him back so for you to find out he runs these games….he can’t risk it

You’ll find out anyway but he doesn’t wanna face you to your face he atleast wants to hide behind a mask atleast imagining what you’d say…..

Currently he’s trying to convince himself that these feelings aren’t real……maybe it’s just attraction? Of course you’re really good looking maybe it’s that!

“Uh In ho?”

*He turns around that voice dreaded him more then anything the voice he was ready to hear-*

“Are you okay In ho?”

It was Gi hun

*He unfortunately realised that after breaking out of his rare trance he blinked for a few seconds then nodded*

“What is it?”

*Gi hun shrugged* “Nothing you seemed out of it….” *In ho stared at the ground trying to seem calm but spoke in a bitter tone* “I’m fine…” *He let his eyes wander to you who was talking to he thinks Junhee the pregnant lady? Gi hun noticed and raised an eyebrow* “Maybe Y/n will cheer you up…..Hey y/n!”

*You raised an eyebrow nodding at Junhee before walking away up to the two men.*

“You guys need something?” *In ho sighed he’s been trying to avoid hearing your voice….and you in general.* “In ho seems nervous I thought you’d be better at calming him down…*

*As Gi hun left you leaned your back on the bars of the bed he was sitting on….he couldn’t even look at you.*

“So. What is it?” *You asked he didn’t look at you but he could tell you seemed concerned*

“……” “In ho?” “…….If somebody did something almost unforgivable in any way…..what would you do?” “……What?” *You were confused rightfully you knew he was like this but for the way he got was so….* “Just answer the question…..please.” “Well if we were close I’d….wanna know why. Depending on what they did it’s…..hard to say hey are you saying this cause you’re worried or something i understand i am too but…..don’t focus on the negative so much you know?” *As usual kind…..how could such a good human like you be in these games yet he knew…..He is the front man after all he decided to atleast “ask you” and bond maybe a bit before he has to let you go….*

“Yeah you’re right as logical as ever so why are……you in debt if you don’t mind answering?”

*He felt you rise up you stared squinting your eyes then smiling* “Damn didn’t expect anyone to ask me that….don’t think it’s important.”

*Oh he knows what it is why wouldn’t he a petty part of him felt betrayed some what you weren’t gonna tell him after how close you’ve gotten but he decided to keep his cool.*

“You don’t have to tell you i just asked since we might be leaving this place or if neither of us..make it.” *You groaned* “The pessimism again In ho? Jeez you could…..I’ll tell you though cause you do have a point.”

“Well i used to be pretty rich and well-“ *As you went into your story he already knew it but continued to listen you were rich worked in a high payed business workplace but like most work places favouritism is common. Which unfortunately lead to your downfall.* “Anyways one day I found out i was being underpayed a lot of money so I complained this and that and i got a warning complained again then got fired…..It was hard to find a job i didn’t pay the bills for a lot of things debt grew bigger and bigger then a man asked me to play a game one day and well…..here i am.” *Ah yes In ho nodded at your story he knew it all he was the person who called for you to be in the game….you were a wonderful person honestly what was he thinking you were too good for a game like this is something he of all people would never think he would say.* “Im sorry you don’t deserve to be here after all it’s not your fault you’re in debt…” *You shook your head* “Eh I didn’t have a good of a college degree anyway maybe if I studied more in college I wouldn’t be here but eh atleast i got to meet you?” *In ho sighed and he didn’t want to or realise it but he couldn’t help but let a small smile rise genuinely.* “I suppose it’s…..mutual.”

*You sighed smiling* “I can’t wait for tomorrow we’ll finally *maybe* get out of here right?” *He felt his heart stop for a second oh yeah…..that*

*He awkwardly cleared his throat* “Oh yeah I suppose this game will….end and we’ll probably never see each other again” *You snorted* “We can still talk, we can meet up together and talk and stuff it’s not like we need to forget each other…”

*”That’s right” In ho thought he needed to forget you maybe these feelings would go away….but the the thoughts came he didn’t want to but…..”I killed my brother damn it! I can do this I’ve talked to them for only a few days this is…”*

“In ho??” *He stared up at you instinctively like an animal almost he stopped himself and regained his composure.* “Jeez you seem tense maybe get some rest…” “No im…..just thinking….about all the bad decisions…..humans can make.” *You hmmd* “I suppose so humans can be evil if given the chance with such power.” *In ho nodded* “Have you ever thought of doing something regrettable?” *In ho wasn’t sure why he was asking these…..questions but maybe it was to see the inhuman side of them to make him disgusted in you? Maybe that’ll work.* “Well I’ll admit yeah…..I got bullied and when I found out there father had cancer i wanted to well bring it up tear them down….i think i was about 14.” *You didn’t seem shameful you seemed to regret it but not shamed it only made In ho admire you more as he hated it.* “So why didn’t you do anything?” *You laughed a bit* “I would of if it wasn’t for me asking my mom and telling her like i was about to do the best thing she got mad scolded me and told me a different way a better way to handle bullying……and I’ve used that advice since.”

*He quirked an eyebrow what would it be that he hasn’t heard ignore them stand up for yourself be the the bigger person?*

“Be better than them…..because bullies are the weakest of the weakest in society strategy they don’t want you knowing is you finding out you’re better then them.” *He knows that advice he’s never thought much of it but hearing it from you automatically makes him wanna know more…* “Well then your mom raised such a lovely person….you should be proud.” *You scoffed laughing a bit* “I made a lot of mistakes that i can’t even say thought of some weird stuff im glad i didn’t say or do anyways……yeah. We’re human everyone has made one bad mistake you’ll dwell on for the rest of your life my advice is well…..did you regret it?”

*In ho sighed smiling* “Thanks for the advice I’ll rest for a bit” *You got up smiling and leaving that’s it.* “Y/n you’ll always be in my memory….” *In ho didn’t know what to do with them maybe ask them to join him? No! That would be so idiotic they’d never agree….try to make them understand? Maybe let them go? Why doesn’t he want that…..he then smiled.* “I can’t wait for tomorrow y/n you’re so unpredictable maybe you could stay with me…..”

Anddddd a cliffhanger sorry if this is ooc i was halfasleep writing this 😭

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Madri Lager: drunk words

Contents: cursing, just a little conversation between them to set the mood and provide a backdrop for the next fic, not proofread

No fucking way. 

There’s just no fucking way. 

“Why the hell are you here?” You hiss. 

Gojo fucking Satoru strolled into your lecture hall, smug grin on his fuck ugly face, arms folded behind his head and swinging his legs like a maniac. From the doors at the front, he immediately spotted you all the way at the back, sat by your lonesome and you could see his shit-eating grin widen. The whites of his teeth blind you almost as much as his impossibly white hair.

Then, the freak had the audacity to climb the stairs, ignoring the whispering and the pointing, and sat next to you. Well, a seat down because you refused to move your bag, even fought with him a little when he tried to lift it. 

He shrugs, slinging an arm around the back of the chair between you, fingertips way too close to your shoulder, and black sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge. “Was feeling bored so here I am.”

Counting to ten, you tried to put on a patient voice, like you’re berating a child, which you pretty much are, and you grit out, “Bored people take up hobbies. Bored people do things like puzzles and cooking and knitting. Bored people don’t crash lectures and bother other people.”

“I love when you lecture me on common knowledge, wifey. It really warms my heart.” To emphasise his stupid point, he presses a hand to his chest and fans his face with the other. “You’re just so smart.”

You slap his hand away when he tries to boop your nose. People are staring, turning their heads like owls as they strained to listen to your conversations. Some people are taking pictures, no doubt sending it to The Bulletin or whatever, because people have nothing better to do than gossip. You hate this attention; the pointing and whispering because of your appearance you’ve learnt to tolerate, but this? 

This is just irritating on a different level.

At least once a day, a cheerful stranger comes up to you and asks in bewilderment if you’re Gojo’s fiancee. In fact, they ask if you’re really, actually the future wife of Gojo Satoru like he’s some mythical being and you’re a frumpy little worm. Fuck them. And fuck him. 

“Go away, Gojo,” you roll your eyes, typing as much of the lecturer’s notes as you can, a little distracted by the peering eyes around you and the ones running over your clothes . 

He sighs and lifts the lace from your dress, rounding the neckline. You feel it tickle your neck, and you fight the urge to shudder. In disgust. With a forced melodramatic tone, he complains, “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Are you fucking twelve? Go watch a movie like a normal person.”

“Movies are boring,” he retorts as if it’s fact. 

You roll your eyes. “And what? I’m so much more interesting?” 

What a stupid question. You really shouldn’t have asked that because the serious expression on his face as he lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug makes you blush. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Did you meet Suguru on the course or was he your piercer first?”

Still typing, you throw him a side glance, feeling suspicious of the sudden change in conversation. But it’s welcomed. “We met on the course. First year. We were in the same class. He’s a good guy.”

Gojo huffs as if he didn’t like your answer. 

The piercer’s actually a decent person; he was friendly, smart, and kind. He made long, boring classes feel shorter with his interesting insights and opinions, and he had such a great way of expressing them — he was the most eloquent male you’ve ever met. However, there was always something off about him, like an inner turmoil that neither you nor he could ever quite understand. 

It was when he absentmindedly said he was thinking of dropping out that you felt you knew him a little better. You both shared a long talk at the back of the Life Sciences building where your little stroll took you, him smoking and you listening to his mutterings. He spoke of this feeling of being out of place, which you understood better than anyone else, and how the traditional path didn’t suit him. He disappeared for a while, a couple months, and you thought your response might have spooked him. After all, no one ever really comes to you for advice. But when he reached out to offer you a free piercing as his first ever client at his newly opened studio, you realised maybe you are capable of dropping an odd pearl here and there. 

“Well, Suguru’s my bestie, so back off,” Gojo pouts.

From your peripheral, you see him eye the big lecture hall and you don’t really know what he’s thinking. It’s an odd realisation to think that Geto, the guy you’ve always kind of admired, is actually friends with this loser – the suggestion that there’s a redeeming quality to the frat guy is one that doesn’t suit you. 

Most times he’s easy to read; he wants fun and excitement and thrill. He does whatever’s convenient or interesting, a totally impulsive guy. But there are rare moments, emphasis on rare, where you think there might be something more going on in that huge head of his. Maybe there’s something deeper to him. A maturity and wisdom he’s yet to show. 

“Fuck, marry or kill,” he lifts three fingers, “Marx, Satre or Aristotle.”

Yeah, unlikely. 

“Gojo, seriously, go away,” you sigh, exasperated. Just five minutes with the guy and you’re already drained. And somehow, you’re expected to live a lifetime with the weirdo?

Satan strike you down. 

“Me personally, Satre’s cute but something about big, bushy beards really gets me going. So, it’ll have to be: kill Aristotle, no offence dude, fuck Satre, and marry Marx.”

Two girls in the row in front of you giggle. Your lips turn down in repulsion. 

“I’m not sure Marx would like either of us, Gojo,” you give him a pointed look. 

He laughs. It’s loud and sudden and he has to say sorry to the entire lecture when it echoes around the hall. Some people laugh at him, or with him, and the lecturer can only shake his head and carry on. This lecturer is strict and merciless when it comes to interruptions, but of course he doesn’t say a thing against the interloper. How could he when there’s a huge placard over the double doors of this building titled ‘From the Loving Hearts of The Gojo Charitable Foundation’?

A couple minutes pass in relative silence, just the tapping of fingers against keyboards and the droning of the professor filling the space, and you think maybe he’s fallen asleep or maybe he’s so bored that he’s actually thinking of leaving. 

Of course, neither of those things happen because the universe hates you. 

Gojo pokes your side with a pen. You writhe with a blush. 

“Oh, ticklish, are we? Very interesting.” He wiggles his brows like an idiot, and you fight the urge to land a punch there. “Our wedding night’s gonna be fun.”

“We’re not going to have one if you had it your way, remember?”

Leaning back in his seat, he taps the pen —where the hell did even get that? He wasn’t carrying a bag— against his chin, considering his words carefully. He shrugs again. “Well, seeing as everyone’s so set on it, I’ve decided to, you could say, open myself to the idea.”

You try to quell the spark of hope there, that maybe your family could be saved, that you’ll be saved. It’s not wise to let that spark fester into something more. 

Gojo’s impulsive. Fact. 

Gojo’s a thrill-seeker. Fact. 

Gojo is an unserious guy set in his bachelor ways. He cannot be relied upon. He cannot be trusted to keep his word.

All facts. 

It’s easy for him to be able to have the option to be ‘open’ to an idea, whereas it’s thrusted upon you without much say. He can wake up and make decisions solely based on his urges, but you have to be mindful of the family’s reputation, your father’s bad habits, your mother’s social conservative ways, and the fact that this is all your fault. 

“Gojo,” you turn, fixing him with a solemn expression, “don’t do that. Don’t lead me on. I may not want to marry you, but I do want to marry. I must. It’s important to me, so please don’t wave it around like it’s some pretty flag.”

There must be something in your eyes, a graveness or a sombre quality that makes his smile disappear. His brows furrow like he’s trying to understand, trying to piece things together but you’re turning away before he could see. 

Clearing his throat, he pokes you again. “Alright. How about this?”

You throw him a doubtful look, worried about what dumbassery is going to leave his mouth. 

“Go on a date with me.”

“No.”

“Hey! You said that way too quickly.”

Resuming your typing, you’re already trying to drown him out, focused on the history of pragmatic ethics instead of his humoured tone. He’s suggesting something ridiculous again. As if you’d go on a date with him. Him. The guy who’s been getting in the way, the one who’s been making your life difficult and family dinners awkward, and the one you certainly cannot trust to not set up some trap to humiliate you like in the movies. 

“I’m being serious. Let’s go on a date.” Seeing you open your mouth to argue back, he hurriedly adds, “This isn’t fair on me either, y’know? I’m supposed to marry a stranger, one who wears all black and looks like she’d haunt me — not a bad thing, I’m actually kinda into it, question mark? — but my point is, we don’t really know each other. So why don’t we go on a date? It’s a pretty brilliant idea, if I do say so myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mull it over. Sure, it makes sense, it would be good to get to know the freak you’re marrying or supposed to marry. This is how it should have been in the first place. Plus, your mother would certainly approve; she’d think this is a golden opportunity to secure him, to make him fall for you or whatever Mrs. Bennet thing she’s thinking of. 

However, as good as that idea is, you can’t just eagerly agree; there’s no guarantee this isn’t a trap. 

“You’re thinking this is a trap, aren’t you?” Your eyes meet his. He’s grinning ear to ear like he’s proud he guessed correctly. “Why don’t you plan the date, then? Set the time and place, that way there’s no way I could have rigged the environment with explosives or something.”

“No pig blood?”

Gojo smiles even brighter, and you have to squint to prevent losing your vision permanently. 

“No pig blood.”

[aajjks]

Pu$$y Drunk (m)

synopsis. an insatiable pussy hungry Toji Fushiguro.

warnings: 18+ thèmès, èxplïcït cöntènt, smüt, püssy hüngry tójí, bèggïng (yùmmy), ôrál sèx (fèm rècíèvíng), fèràl tójí, nèèdy tôjí, prófáníty, tôngúè fückíng. MDNI

note. Toji makes my brain rot so here we go. if this is shitty to you. I am so sorry but if you like it, oh my God, yay. Oh my God guys enjoy and please follow me hehe, like this and re-blog this because I know some of you need this *wink*

header not mine, cr to owner, I found it on Pinterest!

“The fuck yn.. please don’t make me fuckin beg, baby.”

He doesn’t really like to beg because he’s always getting used to what he wants, especially from you. He doesn’t mean it in a good way, but you are quite easy.

But he doesn’t blame you because he is irresistible, and really fucking charming and sexy. And he knows that.

“Fuck.. please please I need this..” he says, looking into your eyes as he is parting your legs further apart.

you know that your resistance? it’s useless but it’s just fun to see him like this.

You really like it when he’s desperate like this. He needs to know that you control him. It’s fun to be in control of someone like him.

“eh I’m not interested OK.”

You reply, dryly. Suddenly your nails looks so interesting to you as you stare at your nails, avoiding his eyes because you know that his eyes get you weak.

His eyes are so… sexy.

Everything about him is sexy. “Nooo you don’t understand. I really need this.”

Toji doesn’t stop trying to pry your legs apart, you are no match to him when it comes to strength. But he knows what you want and he’s willing to give it to you.

As long as he gets to eat your pussy.

“Look at me yn! fuck— fuck, look at me baby.” He says, his voice deep and soft. “Please fuckin let me eat your pussy?” He says in a soft tone.

He can be soft if you want.

“Fuck… you know how much I love this pretty pussy of yours, the only thing that gets me goin’ you know it!”

Your heart flutters.

He groans, a smirk takes over his features as he manages to put some distance between your legs.

Oh, he loves your pink panties.

“So fuckin pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh, his skilled fingers grabbing the hem of your panties as he drags it downwards.

“Mhmm smells so good..” Toji sniffs, your resolve has already weakened and now you’re fucking horny

His words are doing things to you, you want to rub your legs together but you can’t. “A-Agh stop talking!” You finally manage to get it out.

But he only continues to kiss your inner thigh, and he slips one of his fingers gently inside your awaiting cunt.

You gasp, he sighs.

“Ohhh so tight already, goodness you’re already wet yn..” he speaks in such a low tone, you can barely hear him, it’s almost like he’s talking to himself… but you’re now to engrossed into the feeling of his finger inside you.

“a-ah..” you let out a sound, so pretty that he adds another one, stretching you out, it feels so fucking good.

“Oh baby.. fuck.” He starts to piston them in and out, you’re soaking, groaning as he teases you.

“Oh fucking stop it and fuck me with your tongue please!” You finally say it, Toji has you exactly where he wants.

He’s won, like always.

Even if it took a little bit of begging.

“Ahh okay okay.. fuck I love you.” He laughs, a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth and soon it’s on your pussy, attacking it with a vigorous passion.

The hunger is so intense as you feel his tongue deep and directly into your pussy, Toji licks, spits and licks again.

He’s just started but he’s so messy, too desperate to care. Your pussy drives him crazy.

His tongue feels so hot, avd wet as he explores your right walls with it, you’re fucking dripping as he eats you out furiously.

“nghhh mhmm ahhgnmmm!!~”

The noises, oh the noises, he’s so vocal, shamelessly so, your moans are uncontrollably loud too. You’re both such a mess.

Your legs begin to shake so you grip on his shoulders, his grip on your hips steadies you, you sigh in relief.

“oh fuck ohh..” you cuss, feeling your own orgasm building up. You instinctively push his head deeper, his mouth is so sloppy yet so skilled.

“ngh- Ahh baby don’t stop mhm..” you breathe out.

“Oh I— ngmmm— won’t.. just cum f’me.” He continues to eat you out, sucking your soul through your pussy so eagerly.

Only Toji can do that.

“A-Aghhh yess I’m- o-oh- I’m gonna cum.” You reply in a cry, your moans keep on rolling out of your agape mouth and his pace fastens, his tongue working extra hard.

And you cum all over his mouth, inside his mouth.

a loud moan of pleasure leaves him as he starts to lap at it.

“nghh such a good fuckin girl- mhm..”

You’re so exhausted, your visions blurry as you recover, try to recover from your orgasm, but when you think he’ll let go, suddenly his grip tightens even more.

“n-not *breathes* enough. Need more… cum for me *breathes* again…”

[vaaaaaiolet]

Anxiety left you sleepless all night. Leon figures his favorite dream of you might help.

mdni CIAO CHILDREN!! f / m smut w established relationship. put bluntly, leon fucks the worry out of you 😭 he talks you through sex by retelling a dream, tiny bit of character study, PRAISE!! TONS of fingering, 0.5 sec of cockwarming, light angst, p in v w/ a happy ending iykwim, aftercare and i love you's awww. also strawberries 🍓

a / n: req fic from my event!! i took the premise from isle of strawberries by edwin raphael and you can find a playlist for this fic here. motivational smut is a first for me LMFAO but i hope this works w your vision, anon <3 also PEE AFTER SEX YOU GUYS

word count: 2.5k // read on ao3

The 5 AM sun shines rays through the cracks in your plan. You thought you’d been convincing enough with your face pancake-flat against the pillow and your left arm thrown out of the blanket just so. You’d even made sure you had a foot poking into Leon’s side the way he always grumps about, but somehow, your boyfriend always seems to see right through you.

Just like now. 

A busybody poke on your shoulder. “Sweetheart,” follows a drowsy whisper, “what’re you doing?”

Sleeping since last night, thank you very much.

“No use playing possum. You haven’t moved an inch since we went to bed and you, ma’am, can’t sleep still to save your life. C’mere,” and you’re tugged to Leon’s side of the bed, the top of your head peppered with slow, sleepy kisses as he hugs an arm around your middle. “Did you sleep at all tonight?”

You clutch his forearm like a safety bar on a rollercoaster. “A little.”

“Enough?”

“Um…” 

Leon kisses his teeth. He’s usually the one on the receiving end of these questions, but he’s picked up a couple things from you. “Too hot? Too cold? Anything I can get you?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just can’t fall asleep.”

A quiet sigh from you, a hum of understanding from him.

“Because you’ve been thinking again.” He asks if you want to talk about it.

“It’s just a bad night,” you mumble, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “Overwhelmed. Been getting into my head about everything I should be doing but don’t. I feel like I’m letting everyone down all the time.” 

In the champagne pink of the early morning light pouring through the bedroom window, your eyes trace the corded muscle of Leon’s arm around you – a testament to the strength it takes to do his job every day. There’s scars here, burn marks there, a plum-hued bruise.

Your words stumble to a halt. Embarrassed color rises to your cheeks. 

The matter is that scars from his missions to the ends of the earth litter the chest cradling your back right now. Leon must be sore and aching, listening to you whine like a child with too much food on your plate. What could be keeping you up at night when he shoulders your worst nightmares for a living? All while you lay cuddled and coddled? You don’t know the first thing about worry, the paralysis in his bones that must pale to yours.

Guilt creeps up your spine, and Leon frowns at your sudden silence. You’re retreating into a shell he’s called home too many times. He won’t have any of that with you. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he soothes, smoothing back your hair. “I’m still here. You don’t wanna talk right now?” 

You let go of his arm and burrow into your pillow, mumble about how you like sleeping late on weekends anyway.

A scoff sounds behind you. “Sleep late, my ass.” 

Leon’s arm comes circling back over your ribs in an instant. He squeezes you so tight to his chest that you feel his heart thump behind your back, and you can’t help the unexpected laugh that bubbles up your throat when he lets go. It’s his favorite reflex of yours.

“If you won’t talk, I will.” Leon presses a kiss to your cheek. “Gonna distract you for a bit, sweetheart. Humor me?”

“Hm?”

“I wanna tell you about my favorite dream. You’re in it.”

You can’t pretend that doesn’t catch your attention like lightning to a rod. Leon doesn’t dream much, not besides the nightmares that have him scrambling to throw off the covers in the middle of the night. 1998 hangs thick in the air of your bedroom some days, but for him to have a dream where you don’t die for a change? That’s new. 

So is his hand starting to creep under your sleep shirt, playful circles tracing on the soft skin below your navel. Part of his distraction strategy. A successful one, if the skip in your heart rate has anything to do with it.

“This okay?” he rasps.

More than. 

You reach behind, cradling his cheek to kiss him a proper hello; allow yourself an anticipatory inhale when Leon’s hand dives under the waistband of your shorts. It takes exactly three seconds for his middle finger to pinpoint the pearl of your clit, and he circles it twice, maddeningly slow, before sliding right under to trace along the seam of your entrance. 

Leon keeps the pressure light. He needs your head clear so you listen. 

“It always starts the same.” He shifts his hips so yours widen for him. “I’m standing in the middle of a huge field, a strawberry farm. There’s nothing around for miles, just rows of bushes full of berries and storm clouds in the distance. I find an empty basket in my hand.”

You imagine your mountain of a boyfriend holding a basket like Strawberry Shortcake. Adorable. “You dream about picking strawberries?” you giggle, arching your back to fit more comfortably against him, and your consideration earns you a searing dip of his finger into your pooling arousal. 

“That,” Leon chuckles, “and a nagging, sinking feeling that I should be doing something but I can’t.”

Oh. 

“Mhm. It hits me that I have to pick as many strawberries as I can before the storm rolls in, and I can’t even move, sweetheart.”

You swallow the returning lump in your throat. Push down a sigh that was building at the upward roll of his fingertip inside you. Leon tuts at your effort, coaxing the sound out anyway with a press of the spongy spot he knows is tucked at the back of your walls. You crumple at the delicious nudge; it leaves you open to welcome another finger into your warmth.

“But this is a good dream because,” Leon smiles at your next gasp, “then I see you at the edge of the field standing next to a little house, waving at me.” 

He scissors you open like he’s got all the time in the world. You clutch the corner of your pillow when you hear it through the comforter: the soft, rhythmic squelch of his fingers curling into your cunt.

Pretending he can’t hear your whimpered little curses as he coos in your ear, “There you go, listen to that,” Leon continues. “That’s when I start thinking. There’s no way I can save all these strawberries in time. You’re standing there, smiling at me without a clue there’s a storm brewing, and suddenly all I can think about is getting you into the house before you get hurt.”

His lesson becomes one of endurance the more he talks. The fingers pumping into your pussy melt your brain into mush that’s chanting, more, more! Exactly the root of your problem.

“So then I- oh, poor baby. This isn’t enough?” 

Shit. You forgot you talk in your sleep. And apparently when you get fingered too. 

“Guess I can’t blame you. I get distracted in the dream too, fuck.” There’s a pause, a sputtering stop to the lovely fullness when Leon pulls his fingers out and promptly sucks them off. 

Even a worm will turn; you certainly do. You whine Leon’s name when he makes a show of it, gazing at you with half-moon eyes and a boyish grin pulling at his lips. “What, it’s my fault you taste better than the strawberries did?” 

No, for leaving you hanging. You were paying attention — maybe a bit too much.

“It was you, by the way,” Leon chuckles, lifting the comforter so his knees can bracket your thighs. 

“I distracted you in the dream?” you gasp, sliding your hands up his shirt.

“In the best way, angel. You helped me get moving again.”

The peachy light of dawn caramelizes gold as Leon climbs on top of you. It doesn’t warm the bedroom quite yet; Leon makes sure the comforter is tucked over your bare skin after he finishes kicking off his pajama pants. He’s back to murmuring sweet nothings, gently tugging your shirt over your shoulders so he can kiss down the swell of your breasts. You’re so toasty under the covers that the goosebumps now speckling your chest are entirely his fault. 

“I remember you picking a few berries off a bush,” Leon looks fondly up at you under golden lashes, pressing a gentle kiss over your heart, “and you just looked so content eating them. I was fretting over saving the whole field and you were fine with a handful.”

You’re itching to ask: but the storm’s still coming, isn’t it? Thunder, rain, your aching cunt dripping onto the sheets right under him. 

Leon is all too happy to answer. 

One hand cradles the back of your head so he can drop his mouth onto yours, leaving the other free to slip under the blankets, rub consolation over the hood of your clit, and finally, finally, notch the swollen head of his cock at your entrance. You cry out, clutching at Leon’s hair when he sheaths himself in a buttery-smooth stroke – as if it could be any other way with how you’ve melted like chocolate in his hands. You both gasp at the stretch.

Leon’s jaw works as he kisses you, savoring you. Spit bridges your mouths in between split-second gulps of air. Your heart thumps against your ribcage like you’re hanging off a precipice, no difference in the dizzying drop that waits ahead. His length sits adjusting inside the squeeze of your plush walls. 

Leon’s sentences come out chopped and desperate as he alternates sucking berry-toned love bites between your breasts, and he admits, “I don’t save the all the strawberries.”

You wheeze as if you’ve dashed across the field yourself. “No?”

“Just enough to last us the storm. Fuck the rest, figure it’ll grow back. Only need to focus on what matters – getting enough for you – so I pick a couple,” the thick of his cock is suffocating when it’s this still, “run,” Leon pants at the first snap of his hips against yours, outrunning the storm all over again, “and pull you inside the house before lightning strikes.”

Electric pleasure curls up from the base of your spine, spreads to your head and flickers down to your toes as Leon starts pounding into your pussy. No room in your chest for anxiety to linger when your eyes are rolling skyward. The edges of your vision melt into vignette as your lover sinks into you again and again. 

Tunnel vision. 

“Keep those pretty eyes open. Focus on what matters,” he repeats in a frenzied whisper, and the tunnel closes in.

All you see are Leon’s eyes. Smack dab in the middle of his blown out pupils is your reflection.

That’s it.

Coherency goes flying out the window with all your brainpower used up to connect the dots. “Leon, you-!”

“Tell me what you see, sweetheart,” he breathes sharply. “I know you can.”

You beg for mercy at each dig of his blunt cockhead. “Me, I get it, fuck! Please- just let me come!”

Course he can, he just has to drill something else into you first. 

“Need to hear you say it,” Leon grits. Nips at the base of your neck as your nails claw stinging holds on his shoulders. “Shit, I’ll make you see stars, don’t worry, I just need to – oh, you’re so fucking tight! – get it in your head. You can’t shut down on me.”

You thrash under him, make more space for bruising kisses to bloom up your neck. “But you’ve had it worse,” you sob out, overwhelmed. 

“How else do you think I know?”

He’s not letting you head off into your own storm alone. Not when you’ve saved him from his.

“Tell me you’ll let me in next time you get in your head, and I’ll make you come. I’ll make you come so fucking good, baby,” Leon hisses, stealing one last kiss from your panting lips. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

“I will.”

And you ought to thank your lucky stars your levees don’t hold. 

It starts with spiraling cracks. Leon reaching down to press his thumb over your swollen clit. One shaky thrust away from dislodging the last brick holding you together. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flutter of your cunt, choked breaths torn from his throat when the silken clutch of your walls sends him into that final crescendo. 

Leon’s fraying at the edges, obsessive in how rolls his thumb at the bundle of nerves that make you shriek his name, and you, hand in hand with him, finally let the swelling tsunami in the pit of your stomach topple your walls. 

Turns out he’s right. Stars explode across the night sky when your eyes squeeze shut. 

You can’t pay attention to much except the rolling tide of pleasure. Leon’s soon spilling into you, his brow pinched as he blindly works his spend into your cunt under the covers. His forehead glistens with sweat, hell, your baby hairs are a dripping mess, but strangely, you think you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing this warmth again. 

Your heart’s never felt more weightless. 

Glowing seconds sail by. Leon’s shaking arms eventually give way and he collapses onto your chest. You let out an “oof!” at the drop. 

“And then the dream ends,” you hear him sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.

About time, you think, smiling as you brush a thumb over his cheekbone. “Then you wake up?”

“No.” Leon cracks open a sapphire eye and grins. “Sometimes we do this.”

In the little hou- Oh. “Fuck you,” you laugh.

“It’s my favorite for a lot of reasons!” 

He sits up, keeping his touch featherlight when he pulls himself out from between your candied thighs. Tiny aftershocks jerk your thighs once, twice, and Leon takes the time to whisper soft apologies when he reaches for a tissue on the bedside table. 

“I meant it back there, y’know?” he hums, gently wiping off the mess between your legs. “I hate seeing you so hard on yourself.”

“It just feels like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Especially when you’ve been through worse,” you mumble, picking at the covers.  

The tissue gets tossed into the trash, and Leon shoots you a small smile. “Worse to you, maybe. To me, the worst thing I’ve seen is watching you lose your spark and not being able to help.”

“You really think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I love you.”

So you remember your promise. 

You tell him you love him too, no more secrets to keep in your head. The bedroom blooms warmer than you remember it ever being, a little slice of summer straight out of both your dreams.

You remember the strawberries from the farmer’s market in the kitchen, and that Leon makes killer Sunday pancakes.

You remember how much you love afternoon catnaps with your limbs tangled between his. Infinite possibilities pile high like the papers on your work desk. So much to get started.

Focus on what matters. The rest will grow back.

You turn the other cheek, and kiss your lover on the mouth.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[beloveds-embrace]

So glad you asked for more roommates cause I’ve been brooding over it for the last 2 seconds since you asked.

Now just see the vision rq, it’s still kinda early into her moving in but yk they still want her BAD anyways she brings home a guy thinking they were gonna and now she just has four military men questioning and intimidating her tinder date…

I love writing for the roommate au sm so i am always happy for shared thoughts! 🙂‍↕️💕

Roommate au masterlist

The date had started innocently enough- or at least, you thought so.

It wasn’t like you were expecting the boys to be home. They’d mentioned a late training session, and with how demanding their schedules were, you figured you had the apartment to yourself for the evening. So, when your Tinder match, Matt, suggested coming over to watch a movie, you agreed. What harm could it do? Maybe it’d even turn to more. Hell, you hoped it’d turn to more.

Matt was nice enough, you supposed. Decent-looking, polite, and he hadn’t said anything off-putting yet. But as the two of you settled on the couch, popcorn in hand and the glow of the TV filling the room, your front door clicked open.

Your could practically feel a ball drop in your stomach.

The sight of Price stepping through the door, his shoulders hulking under his coat, was enough to send your nerves spiraling. He stopped mid-step, sharp eyes locking onto you and your date.

Behind him, Simon followed, pulling down his hood, but balaclava not yet removed. Johnny and Kyle weren’t far behind, their conversation halting as they took in the scene.

The air turned thick, tension palpable as four pairs of eyes honed in on Matt, who was looking increasingly uncomfortable by the second. You honestly couldn’t blame him.

“Didn’t know we were having company,” Price said, his tone low and deceptively calm as he shut the door behind him.

Your voice caught in your throat. Honest to God, you felt like you were a soldier who’d fucked up in front of him. He just had that Vibe. “I… I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until later.”

“And who’s this?” Soap asked, his smile wide as he nodded toward Matt. It didn’t feel friendly and even you could tell.

Matt shifted nervously, offering a small, awkward wave. “Uh, hi. I’m Matt. Nice to meet you guys.”

The silence that followed could’ve cut glass.

“Matt,” Simon repeated, his voice flat, his imposing frame seeming to block out all the light in the room. To you, he’d never felt that scary before… more like a particularly grumpy giant whose toes were always freezing. “And what exactly are you doing here, Matt?”

“I- I’m just hanging out with her,” Matt stammered, looking at you for reassurance. “A date.”

Kyle crossed his arms, leaning casually against the wall, though his eyes never left Matt. “Funny. We don’t remember her mentioning anything about a date.” He almost spat the word out.

You shot to your feet, hands up in a placating gesture. “Guys, seriously, it’s not a big deal. We were just going to watch a movie-”

“And you thought bringing a stranger into the house without telling us was a good idea?” Price cut in, his tone clipped.

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that…

Matt’s eyes widened. “I’m not- I mean, I’m not dangerous or anything.”

“Oh, aye? That right, then?” Soap drawled, stepping closer, his easy smile taking on a sharp, menacing edge. “And how d’ye reckon we’re meant to trust ye, Matt? Could be anyone. A thief, a creep, someone tryin’ tae take advantage of her.”

“I- … what?” Matt looked at you again, desperation in his eyes and voice.

“Relax, Johnny, it’s-” you tried, but your voice wavered under the weight of their combined stares.

“We’re just looking out for her,” Kyle said, his tone deceptively smooth as he grabbed a chair and spun it around to sit on it backward. “You understand, don’t you? We are her roommates.”

Simon didn’t say much- he didn’t have to. The way he loomed was enough to make Matt visibly sweat.

Price, meanwhile, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are she let you in? She’s trusting. Sweet. Too sweet, if you ask me. Makes her a target for the wrong sort of people.”

“I- I’d never hurt her, sir-” Matt stammered, his voice cracking slightly.

Price’s lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. He looked unimpressed, more than anything else. “Good. Because if you did…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but the unspoken threat hung heavy in the air.

“Okay!” you blurted, stepping between them. You gave up; you knew this date has gone to shit. “That’s enough. Matt was just leaving.”

Matt didn’t need to be told twice. He practically bolted for the door, not even stammering a quick goodbye before disappearing into the night.

As the door clicked shut, you turned to face them, your cheeks burning. “What the hell was that?”

“…you can do much better than him.” Kyle huffed, drawing you to sit down beside him on the couch even as you pouted glared. “Much, much better. Ain’t that right, John?”

Price nodded, sighing. “He was trembling like a leaf, love. Men like him? Not worth your time.”

Simon simply stood there, his eyes fixed on you. “Next time,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let us know before you bring someone here.”

You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead. “…You’re all impossible.”

Though by the end of the night, you still found yourself between Johnny and Kyle, and finished the movie anyways, date forgotten.

[luvrxbunny]

so much

pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara  x f!reader

summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i blacked out again. 

Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants. 

This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.” 

Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do. 

“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous. 

“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours. 

“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants. 

“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”

(“... So fucking bad but…”)

Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.   

What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…

“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”

Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’

The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs. 

He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes. 

He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”

“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him. 

You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.

(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)

“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you. 

“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles. 

("... strange, abnormal,")

“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re-  like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”

He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.

("No matter what I do.")

“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips. 

You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes. 

“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”

(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)

You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him. 

You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”

(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)

You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing. 

“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.

He’s cumming the moment he can see your face. 

You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.

You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest. 

“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.” 

(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)

(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier. 

(‘I love that.”)

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!