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#<-KINDA? i edited them in on the first one but i spent more time on it than i needed to so im counting it
tomaturtles · 1 month
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Happy Campus Apocalypse volume 1 16th anniversary here's something to celebrate
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samandcolbyownme · 2 months
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The people wanted Colby angst & the people are getting Colby angst.
Summary: After a long, on and off, secret relationship with Colby, reader finally has had enough, or have they?
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angst, kinda sad, arguing/fighting, mentions of alcohol, flirting, reader is the lead singer in a rock band, slight mentions of depression/anxiety, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, unprotected shower make up sex, filth
Word count: 6.8K | NOT edited
Inspired by the song, The Grey by Bad Omens. I will also be using a few of their other songs, so if you haven't listened to them, you definitely should. Noah Sebastian is chefs kiss 💋
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
The relationship you had with Colby was the first relationship you kept going back to.
You knew he was bad for you, mainly because it felt like he was holding you back more than pushing you forward, but you loved him with everything you had in you.
When you were together, just the two of you, it was pure bliss. Like seeing love through rose colored lenses.
But it never failed to change with each launch party of a new album or even an after party for playing at a sold out show.
Colby couldn't contain his jealously, but yet, he's the one who wanted to keep your guy's relationship secret in the first place.
He didn't want the lime light, he wanted to have you all to himself, but he failed to realize that with your career growing, so would your popularity grew with it.
You broke up for a while, spent a few weeks apart. You worked on your new album some more. Colby hung out with Sam, investigating the paranormal some more.
You and Sam were good friends, so around the time Sam told you they'd be back, you got that, can we talk? text from Colby, and ever since then, you've been better than ever.
You agreed to understand him wanting to stay out of the spot light, so in public you were friends usually have dinner with other friends, but when it came to your band, they knew which meant you could kiss each other in front of them and they wouldn't bat an eye.
He's come to your studio sessions. Sat up until three am with you while you wrote down and hummed to random song lyrics. He's even been front row at sound checks.
He's become an even bigger number one fan and you absolutely loved it.
Things seemed to be going in the right direction for a while, and you were thinking about talking to him again about going public, mainly because you wanted more from him.
More with him.
You thought that since your relationship was in such a good place and haven't called it quits for the sixth time, it could work.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Here's to y/n. Her talent is what got us here in the first place." Your guitarist, Lewis, raises his glass and everyone follows in with a loud, "To y/n."
You laugh, leaning into Colby. He lays his arm over you, taking a sip from his drink, "You really deserve this, babe." He smiles, planting a kiss on your temple.
You smile, taking a sip from your glass, "Let's face it though, I would be here without you guys." You motion to the rest of your band, "So let's give a toast to the people who stand beside-" you point to your drummer, Hunter,"And sit behind me on stage."
Hunter laughs, "Thanks for being so specific, y/n."
You nod, "Of course."
You look at Colby, "And thank you, for supporting me no matter what we go through."
He smiles, "I love you."
"I love you." You lean in, pecking his lips before turning to face your band, "Who's up for another round, huh?"
A few hours later, you and Colby arrive back to your house.
"So when's the album supposed to be finished?" Colby asks as he sits on the couch. You shrug your jacket off, walking over, "Hopefully by the end of the month. I have almost eight tracks so far? I want there to be at least ten."
"Are you going to release a single?" He extends his arm out as you sit down next to him, "Your singles are always a banger."
You laugh slightly and shrug, "I've thought about it. I mean, I have ideas but-"
Colby's phone buzzes and he ignores it.
Probably just Sam, you think, "I haven't really-" Colby's phone buzzes again, "Do you need to get that?"
He shakes his head, "I'm not worried about it. I'm worried about you." He pulls you closer and kisses your head, "So what are these ideas you have for a single?"
You blow out air, resting your head back onto his arm, "I'd have to go get my notebook, my brain is still kinda fuzzy from the show and then the post show alcohol."
You get up, laughing to yourself as you walk into the room that holds all your music equipment. You grab the notebook and turn around to walk back out, slowing down when you see Colby on his phone.
As much as you wanted to trust him and move forward, a part of you still had anxiety when it came to him with certain things.
You slowly walk over, "So."
He locks his phone and sets it down on the couch next to him, "Let's hear something." You sit down, facing him, "Okay. So I think these are going to go all in one song, but I so far I have I'm drowning in a dream I can't escape."
Your eyes can down over the page, "Then I have, ninety miles in the dark and family scars and electric hearts? I don't know there just something.." you look up at him, "That comes to me? I guess."
It was going so well, you didn't want to tell him that you were using your past times trying to make it work as a muse.
You weren't sure how he would take it, fine, probably. But at the same time, you didn't want to risk it.
"So Colby.." you set your notebook down, "I was thinking."
"Oh boy." He chuckles, "no, really. What's up?"
You smile as you move closer to him, "I was thinking that maybe we can.. grow.. more in this relationship?"
He tilts his head, looking over at you, "What do you mean?"
"I think you know what I mean." You look up at him, "I want more with you, Colby. I want to go out and be able to hold hands with you at a restaurant. I want to eventually get a house with you." You sigh, "I want marriage, Colby."
He stays quiet for a few seconds, "I've been thinking about it, too."
You raise your eyebrows, "Really? You have?"
He nods, sliding his hand up to grip your chin, "You are such a beautiful and talented woman, y/n. You genuinely surprise me every day I'm with you."
You smile and he leans in, "I love you."
You run your hand through his hair and lean in to close the space between the two of you, "I love you." You press your lips to his and move your head to rest your chin on his shoulder as he pulls you into a hug.
You glance down as his phone lights up and your heart starts racing as the name Serenity appears on the screen, "Who's Serenity?" You lean back and you can tell Colby is caught off guard, "It's.. No one, y/n. I promise."
You lean back and he tries to grab your hand, "Just wait.." you rip your hand away, placing it on your cheek, "Colby.. I thought.." you can feel tears burning in your eyes, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
"She isn't anything, I mean she was but-"
You cut him off, "When?"
"What?"
You raise your voice a little bit louder, "When. Colby, when was she ever anything?"
He stands up, "When we broke up this last time. I met her while Sam and I were in Georgia. It wasn't anything. I missed you, so that's why I-"
"You missed me? So you went and found someone to.. what, exactly? Distract you from the thought of me?" You throw your hands up, "Just when I thought things were changing."
"They are!" He says loudly, "They are! I haven't talked to her since the day before we left. I was focused on you because you're fucking everywhere y/n. but How can I get over you if-"
You raise your brows and he shakes his head, "No, that came out wrong.. I didn't.. I didn't it mean it to sound like that, I don't want to get over you." Colby walks over to you and you just stand there staring at the spot he walked away from.
He slides his hand up your arm, "I promise you it is and was nothing. Just a conversation.
"Did you sleep with her?" Your words are cold and you look at him. He shakes his head, "No. no we didn't do anything, and even if it did progress, which it didn't. Sam wouldn't have let anything happen, you know that?"
"Then why is she calling and texting you at three in the fucking morning?" You groan, "God, Colby. I genuinely thought we were going somewhere this time? All the times you showed up for me when you didn't before?" What was that just a cover so I didn't suspect anything?"
He shakes his head, "No, y/n. It's not like that at all."
"How can.." your voice breaks, so you pause, taking a deep breath before you sigh, "How am I supposed to believe you when you've done this shit before?"
"What are you talking about?" He tilts his head, "Please, tell me. I would lo-"
"Second time we got back together, I seen a Mariah on your phone. She was sending hearts, saying that if, and I quote, 'you and your mystery girl break up again, you know where to find me' end quote." You keep your stare on him, "we broke up shortly after getting back together that time, because things were getting too serious too fast, as you said."
"That wasn't.. she was.." he sighs, "We're talking about things over the course of a year or so, y/n. I didn't think I was ready to be with someone like you."
"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean exactly?" You cross your arms and he sighs, "Again, didn't mean for it to sound like that."
"Just go."
Your words catch him off guard, "Huh?"
"Go. Get out." You point to the door, "I can't..." you close your eyes, begging yourself not to cry, "I can't keep doing this. Shutting myself down, trying to change you or even trying to change myself, Colby."
"Who's changing? What are you talking about?" He steps closer to you and you shake your head, looking up at him, "I just.. I guess I just gave you too many chances and you literally ran through them all."
You groan, "Fuck, I literally have everything I could ever want, but it obviously still isn't enough."
"Enough for what, y/n? You're enough for me." Colby's voice goes quieter, "Please." He steps towards you, wrapping his hands round your wrists, "Can you just please, sit down. Read the messsges. Time stamps. Everything."
"I just wanted more, Colby. More from you. This isn't.." you shake your head, "I just want to finally be with someone who doesn't leave me falling asleep confused every night."
"No, don't let me go." He rests his forehead against yours, "I mean it. I'm serious this time. I don't want anyone else but you."
"Who even am I anymore, Colby? Honestly." You step back, pulling your hands free from his grasp, "I literally don't even know who I am anymore. A singer who allows someone to just keep hurting her over and over again?"
"Y/n." Colby shakes his head, "Just please, hear me out."
"You had the chance to tell me. When we got back together.. I told you about the guy I had dinner with. I didn't even want to do it but I was so pissed at you for that Mariah girl, I just.. tried evening the score but I guess that didn't fucking matter, now did it?" You pace back and forth, feeling like you could puke.
"The thought.. of you even.." you lay your hands on your lips, "Being with another girl is enough to make me drop dead."
"I was never with any other girl, y/n. You have to-"
You cut him off, "No. I'm done. I'm done with this grey area of us that can only be seen when it's just us. It's not what I want, you know what I want and you just..." you look at him, "Clearly arent on the same level as me, you never were."
"But I am." He pleads and you shrug, "sure doesn't seem like it to me." You sigh, "Just.. go. Please."
"I'm not giving up on us, you can't just dig another grave and let me go, not like this." He stays in his spot and you just stare at him, "Colby. I'm tired. I have a headache, I'm not... I'm not doing this anymore. Just please, go home."
"Fine. But I promise, I'm not giving up. I'll give you space but I'll prove that I want you." He grabs his keys, walking towards the door.
You want to stop him but it's like your body is frozen in its place. You can't move, no matter how much you want to.
He gives you one last look before closing the door and you immediately break down, falling to your knees and leaning up against the couch.
You're gasping for air, clutching your chest as you try not to cry too loud.
You wanted Colby, but you didn't want the hurt that comes along with it anymore.
A part of you believed him, but at the same time, a part of you knew that you needed to let go.
Then it hit you.
Turn the pain, into power.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Over the last two weeks, the only time you'd leave your house was to go to the studio. You had a new song in that was practically almost down.
A new single, and you had Colby to thank for that.
Other than that, you laid at home, in the dark usually just thinking about everything, Colby mainly.
It's been two weeks and you've barely made the effort to answer him. But you always do. Whether it's just him one word answers, or you wait hours, you can't seem to stay away from him no matter how much you wanted to.
That was until you got a text from him that set you off almost instantly, it feels like we don't talk anymore and you don't seem to care.
You sit up in bed, scoffing as your thumbs tap the screen at lightning speed. As you're in the middle of your paragraph, he sends you another text, I knew that would get your attention.
You clench your jaw. selecting your paragraph and deleting it to which you replacing with, what do you want, Colby?
He instantly replies, I want you to see that I love you.
You stare at the message, unable to come up with a response. He texts again, After your show tomorrow, I'm going to prove to everyone that I'm ready to join you in the spotlight you stand in.
You've been so caught up in your own shit, you forgot about the show you have scheduled for tomorrow.
Another sold out show.
You respond to Colby's text, what? Are you gonna join me on stage?
You laugh slightly as you click out of Colby's text thread and go to your bands group chat, meet me at the studio. We're playing that song tomorrow night.
Your eyes move up to the banner notification with Colby's text that reads, you'll see, baby.
A smirk plays at your lips, until you remember that you're mad at him.
Why you're mad at him.
You toss your phone down, getting up to change before you make your way to the studio.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You walk into the venue, looking around in awe at the place you'll be playing. Thousands of seats scattered all around.
You were in shock each time you stepped foot into one of these places.
"Can't believe we'll be playing here tonight." Lewis walks up, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "You doin' okay?"
You sigh, crossing your arms, "Colby's coming tonight, and he says he has something planned to tell everyone he loves me. I don't.. really know how to feel but.."
You look up at him, "The show must go on, right?"
He tilts his head, "He isn't used to being with someone as pretty and famous as you are, y/n. I'm not trying to take his side, but maybe what happened between you guys, really opened his eyes."
You shrug, "I love him to death, but if we keep going in this direction, I don't think either one of us will make it out alive."
Lewis snaps his fingers, humming as he thinks.
You smirk, turning to face him, "What are you cooking in that head of yours?"
"Da da da.. da da.. da da.. Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize, love's the death of peace of mind? Think we can make a song about it?"
You laugh, thinking about it, "You know what." You nod, "Studio session. You and me. Tomorrow." You point at him and look over, seeing Sam walk towards you.
You walk over to him, bringing him in for a hug, "What are you doing here?" He hugs you and sighs, "Had to make sure my two people weren't going to kill each other, you know."
"So you heard about the argument.." you step back, crossing your arms over one another, "Sorry I didn't.. call you."
"Colby filled me in." He nods, "Plus I figured if you needed me you'd call."
"I haven't talked to anyone about what happened.. I mainly out focus into a song." You look at him and he tilts his head, "Does he know?"
You shake your head, "But he will tonight."
Sam wraps an arm around your neck, "You people and your song making." You shrug, "I felt like I couldn't explain it, no matter how hard I tried, so I wrote a song about it myself."
He laughs slightly, "What's it called?"
You bite the inside your lip, "The Grey."
"Hmm." He nods, "I'm actually really excited to hear it." He looks around, "Can't believe you sold this place out." He pulls you into him, "I'm proud of you, kid."
You laugh, rolling your eyes, "Thank you. Thank you." You sigh, "So is he here?"
Sam shakes his head, "Not yet. He's coming with our other friends later on." You nod, "Do you-"
"No. I don't know what he has planned." Sam laughs, "Nice try."
"Hey, couldn't hurt, right." You laugh and look up at Hunter who's waving at you. You nod, giving him a thumbs up, "I gotta go. Sound check you know."
"So I'll hear a snippet of the song?" Sam raises a brow and you shrug as you walk away, "Guess you'll find out."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You bounce up and down slightly, taking a deep breathes as your nerves for this show are a lot higher than they've been for any other show.
Colby was in the audience this time.
Not hiding behind the curtain, off to the side like he has for every other show he's been to.
You wanted to know what he was planning, it's driven you crazy since he first said something about it yesterday.
"You're gonna kill it." Hunter says nudging you as he walks by. Lewis walks up, putting on his guitar, "It's just like any other show."
"Let's hope." You laugh slightly before putting your inner ears in, shaking out your hands before taking the mic from your stage director.
The band walks out into stage, taking their places and the music to the first song starts playing.
You put on a smile, walking out when you hear your cue. You move around stage as you sing your first song, waving to the fan.
You walk over to the mic stand, placing your mic in the holder as you finish, "How's everybody feeling tonight!?"
A massive sea of screams erupts in front of you and you can't help but smile, "Thank you all for being here. Another sold out show!"
You clap and the fans erupt again.
"I have something very special towards the end of tonight's show!" You look back at the band, laughing when the fans go crazy, "Too bad you won't know what it is until the end, "Anyway. Here's Like a Villain."
The rock music starts and you slowly head bang to the music, rocking your mic stand as you wait for your time to start singing.
Colby is heavy on your mind, so heavy you almost miss your cue, "Look into my face, then look again. We are not the same, we're different.."
You smile as you see the fans dancing and singing along. You absolutely loved being on stage.
You continue singing verse one, "You need a new clean slate without the dents. A place to put your pain, your consequence.. When you look into the mirror, are you even there?"
You take a breath, grabbing the mic off the stand. You bend down slightly as you belt out the chorus, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."
You walk around the stage as you sing, giving them a performance. You dance around during the little break, walking over to the other side as you start to sing the second verse, "So write a brand new page, then write again. I know your act is staged, yet you pretend.."
Finishing the second verse, you move into the chorus again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."
You move back to the mic stand, resting it back in its holder as you wait for your cue for the bridge, gently singing, "Like a villain, I couldn't be I didn't need it, it needed me.. Like a villain, I couldn't be. I didn't need it, it needed me.."
It goes into the breakdown and your eyes scan the crowd and you see Sam and Colby standing in the VIP section of the pit.
Your heart skips a beat, and you start to sing again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself.."
The song goes into the outro and the band stops playing and the crowd goes crazy.
That one is always a hit.
You felt on top of the world right now.
You literally did have everything, but you still wanted more, just like your new song says. Just like you told Colby.
You were nervous. The closer you got to performing it for the very first time.
You weren't sure how Colby was going to react. Sam was the closest person to him, but you knew he wouldn't say anything.
At least you hoped he wouldn't.
A few songs later, almost ready to close out the show, you take a deep breath, "You guys have been absolutely phenomenal tonight!"
You raise your hands above your head, clapping for the crowd, "I mean it. I think this is the best crowd we've had this year so far."
The crowd screams and you sigh, "Alright guys.. so that surprise I was talking about earlier.." you pause, letting the crowd scream, "Alright, so I may or may not have been in the studio these last two weeks trying to get out a new single, and let's just say.." you pause, smirking out at the crowd, "I've done just that."
You laugh, grabbing your mic off the stand and walking around, "This single means.. a lot to me, for a few reasons and I'm very excited to announce that it will be out...."
The crowd go crazy, yet again, chanting in unison, "Tell us! Tell us!"
"Okay okay." You wave your hand, "I don't know when it'll be out, but we're going to play it for you right now."
You walk back over to the mic stand, giving your band a thumbs up, and they start playing.
You nod your head to the slow moving, then quick to pick up pace, "Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart." You take a quick breathe, "And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah.."
Your heart was pounding harder with each line, "Looking sideways when I say I'm okay with the past But I'm afraid of what I might say if you ask.."
You grab your mic, walking to the left of the stage, away from the side Colby was on, going into the pre-chorus, "Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all..Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough.."
"Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call.."
You take a breath, "Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.."
"Yeah, I still wanted, more.."
You walk towards the right side of the stage, smoothly transferring into the chorus, "There's not another way, don't let me go.. Don't dig another grave today..."
"I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know Who I was before I faded away.. Into the grey.."
You knew Colby knew. You were sweating.
You had a little break before you went back in for the second verse, "All of this time sittin' inside, sittin' in the dark.. And every night, I can see why you could never stop, yeah.."
"Lying is hard and the truth comes out anyway.. You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate.."
You sing the chorus again before grabbing the mic, moving to the right of the stage, directly in line of sight from Colby.
You lay your hand on your chest, tapping it with the words of the post-chorus, "I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down and I'll never be the same."
"I did it to myself, tried to be someone else..And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.."
You drag out the last word and the crowd goes absolutely insane.
You smile as you sing the words to the bridge, then moving into the chorus one final time before moving back to your mic stand to close out, "Into the grey."
You step back from your mic stand and smile, looking out over the crowd.
Your eyes land on Colby and he's clapping and shaking his head with a smile on his face.
He pulls out his phone, turning around to record him and you on the stage. Sam starts smiling and laughing as he gives you a double thumbs up.
You blow a kiss to him, laughing as you wave and then suddenly the fans go even crazier.
You look down, shrugging as you ask, "What is happening?" You being the mic up to your lips, "Why are we having a second rush of cheering, I mean I appreciate it but, fill me in. Please."
You point to one of the girl's phone and security grabs it, handing it to you.
You watch the video play. It's what you watched Colby do, but you didn't know exactly what he did. You smile as you reach up to take your in ear out, "I have to be able to hear it right?"
The girls in front go absolutely insane screaming things you can't comprehend, "Okay, okay. Hold on."
You bring the phone up to your ear and you wanted to cry.
This is what you wanted all along.
Colby screams into the phone, "That's my fucking girlfriend." You hand security back the phone and the girl screams, "is it true? Is it true?"
You smile, giving her a nod, "Yes." You look up, bringing the mic to your lips, "Alright everybody. Thank you guys so much for a great show. We will definitely be back! I love you!"
You put your mic into the stand, waving as you run off the stage. You make your way back and your manager comes up to you, "Oh my god, y/n. That song. Top of the charts. You need to release it immediately."
You laugh, "I'll get it out tomorrow." You look over his shoulder, seeing Sam and Colby walk down the hallway, "Excuse me." You walk around him, making your way to the boys.
Sam gives you a hug, squeezing you tight, "Phenomenal."
You lean back, smiling, "Yeah?"
He nods, "Absolutely fucking insane." He moves to the side and you look up at Colby, "Are you mad?" He tilts his head, "Are you mad?"
You shake your head, chewing on your chew as you try not to smile, "No."
"Good." Sam lays his hands on each of your one shoulders, "Now kiss and make up." He pushes you towards each other and you laugh, wrapping your arms around Colby's neck.
You press your lips to his and lean back, "We gotta go. I need a shower. I was sweating because I thought you weren't going to like the song."
"I'll only be mad if it doesn't make top of the charts." He laughs, following you to your dressing room, along with Sam.
You walk in and go over to your bag, grabbing sweats and a sweatshirt, "I'm going to change quick." You walk behind the solid partition, quickly changing from your stage outfit into something comfy.
"So it was a good show?" You ask walking out to toss your stuff into your bag. You pull out your slippers, dropping them to the floor.
"Ten out of ten, will come to one again." Sam gives you a thumbs up. You smile, looking at Colby, "Ready to go home?"
He nods, "Yes. Please."
You zip your bag, walking over to Colby and taking his hand in yours. He gives your hand a squeeze and follows you out.
As you walk out, you see fans waiting by the one barricade, "I'm going to go see them." Colby nods, "Let's go."
You smile as you walk over, moving in between the two security guards. Colby takes your bag, waving and saying hi to the fans that call out for him.
"So you're Colby's girlfriend?" The one asks and you nod, smiling as you sign her paper, "I sure am."
"You looked so beautiful tonight." Another one says and you pout, "Stop it, you're so beautiful."
You turn, taking the one girls phone and taking a few selfies with her.
You do that with a few more and step back, "I hate to go, but I am exhausted. Thank you guys so much for coming out. I love you I love you!" You blow kisses to them and wave as you walk way, Colby glued to your hip.
"You're so cute when you do that." Colby opens the car door for you and you smile, "I love them. I want them to know that."
You get in, Colby moving to sit next to you.
"So. I have to ask." You turn to him, "Why now?"
He shrugs, placing his hand on your knee, "You wanted a huge gesture and our figured doing it at your show was pretty big."
You laugh, "I mean, yeah. And tweeting it.."
"I know we have some of the same fans so I figured if I tweet it, one was bound to see it and you know how fast that shit spreads." He squeezes your leg, "I'm just.. I wish I could prove to you how sorry I am."
"I mean.." you lay your hand on his hand, sliding it up his arm, "you're doing good so far... but I have a few more ideas.."
"Mm." He leans in, "Do tell." He kisses your cheek and you smile, "I'll tell you when we get home."
"But home is so far." He whines quietly, "Just one thing.. yeah?"
You turn your head, biting your lip as you look at him, "Don't push it." You laugh, pressing your lips to his and you couldn't wait to be home.
Soon enough, but it felt like forever, you and Colby are running up to the door. You work to unlock it as his hands slip under your sweatshirt.
"Almost.." You sigh, "Got it." You push the door open, turning around to face Colby as you walk backwards into your house.
His lips go to yours and your arms go around his neck as he kicks the door shut with his foot.
As you're making out, the post-show adrenaline wears off and you push yourself off of Colby, "Wait."
"Don't do this." He sighs and you shake your head, "How do I know it'll be different this time? How did I know that you'll be able to contain your jealousy and everything else that tore us apart before?"
A smirk grows on his lips and you tilt your head, "What?" He walks over to you, cupping your cheeks to give you a kiss before whispering, "I'm not jealous anymore because everyone knows you're mine."
He bends down slightly, lifting you up, "Now let's go get that shower, yeah?"
You smile, your hands on either side of his neck as he walks you into the bathroom. He pins you up against the wall, holding you up with his hips as he reaches in to turn on the water.
The bathroom quickly fills with steam as he sets you down so you can undress.
Hands are all over. Lips are kissing any part of your bodies they can get to.
It's hot.
He steps in, pulling you in with him and he spins you around as he closes the door. You gasp as your back presses up against the cool tile of the shower.
A moan escapes from your lips as his fingers move down to circle your clit, "F-fuck."
"This was I needed to do?" Colby asks and you shrug, lips parted slightly as you nod, "Kind of."
He hums in response, dropping down to his knees, "Or was it this." He lifts a leg, placing it on his shoulder before leaning in to lick between your folds.
Your hands move to his wet hair, tangling your fingers in as you arch your back off the wall.
His tongue circling your clit before gently nipping and sucking. You moan, tilting your head back as you close your eyes.
You missed him between your legs.
You missed him in general.
"C-Colby." You breathe out, "S-shit."
You look down at him, biting on your lip as you watch the image below you. His fingers dig into your skin and you roll your hips, "Yes, yes, yes."
He brings a hand over, slipping two fingers into you which earn a whine from your lips.
You pull his hair slightly harder which causes him to groan. The stroke of his fingers is absolutely perfect, he knows your body better than anyone.
"F-fu- co- col-" You squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure of his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit.
He knew you were close, so he kept that pace as best he could.
Your hips buck out, moaning loudly as you push his gave into you, "Colby!" You clench around his fingers, your legs shaking more and more with each second you have to hold yourself up.
Colby leans back, setting your leg down on the floor but keeping a hand on your waist as he stands back up, "I fucking love you." He tilts your chin up and presses a kiss to your lips.
Your tongue moves in sync with his as he lets out a low groan as you wrap your hand around his cock, "Fuck. I need you."
You smirk at his words, "Fuck me."
He leans down, lifting you up and your arms wrap around his neck. He cautiously slips his one arm under your knee and you reach down to hold his cock steady as he slips into you.
You let out a loud moan, tilting your head back as you feel him rest inside of you.
"Look at me, baby." Colby whispers.
You tilt your head up, tightening your arms around his neck. He watches your face twitch as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.
You keep your eyes on him, forcing yourself to keep them open as you squeeze his cock, "Fuck, Colby."
He leans in, pressing his lips to yours and you slide a hand up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.
"I love you." Colby mumbles against your lips, "It's always been you."
You moan into his mouth, digging your nails into his skin, "Don't leave me again." His lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin.
You moan, tilting your head to the side. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses his way over your collar bones, making his way to the other side, "Never.."
He stops thrusting, resting inside of you, "I'm not going anywhere, and I plan on making sure everyone knows it."
You smile, nodding your head, "No more grey area?"
"Full on color, baby." He smiles and brings his hand up to cup your cheek, moving his lips with yours.
He sets you down, spinning you around so your chest is pressed against the glass shower door. His hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing a moan from you as he slips his cock back in.
"F-Fuck." You whimper, pressing a hand to the glass and dragging it down. Your eyes roll back as he squeezes harder, cutting off your moans from sounded loud.
His thrusts are slow and hard, digging his fingers into your waist harder with each one, "F-fucking hell, baby."
He lets go of your neck and you gasp for air as he slides his hand to your shoulder, gripping it as he thrusts faster.
A string of moans and whimpers leaves your lips as his thrusts grow sloppy. He leans forward, resting his head on the back of yours and you can tell he's going to cum soon.
"Not gonna last much longer." He whispers, his voice raspy as he tries to hold it together, "Fuck, fuck."
"Don't stop." You moan out, "pl-ease don't stop."
You move your hips back into him, moaning loudly as you feel yourself growing closer, quite quickly.
"C-Colby!" His name leaves your lips in a scream as you cum around him once more. You moan, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.
You knew he came with you.
He lets his grip on your loosen, leaning up as he slides his hand down your back, "Incredible." He pulls you to stand up, his cock falling out as you turn.
Your lips meet his and he pulls you close to him.
After your shower, you walk out with a towel wrapped around you. Colby is lying on the bed and you can tell he's nervous about something.
"What?" You ask, stopping in your tracks, "What happened?"
He sits up, shaking his head, "Nothing, I'm just.. thinking.."
"Oh god, are you about to-"
"No, no. It's not what you think." He laughs slightly, brushing your wet hair from your shoulders, "I just don't know if this is the right time, but I feel like I need to just.."
Your heart is racing and your mind is moving too fast for you to even pick one thought to focus on, "Just say it." You blurt out and Colby sighs, "Fine. I will."
He takes a step back, getting down on one knee as he pulls out a ring from his pocket, "I don't even know if it's the right time but it feels like it and I jus-"
You cut him off by falling to your knees in front of him,  eyes glassy as you look from the ring to him, "Yes."
"I- what? Yes?" His mouth drops and he smiles, "You think it's the right time?"
"You told everyone I was your girlfriend at my show." You pluck the ring from his fingers, a smirk on your face, "Now at the next one, I can tell them I've been upgraded to fiancé."
He stands up and pulls you to your feet. He places the ring on your left hand and sighs, "I promise, we're going to work."
You look up at him, "We're endgame."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
I hope you liked it. As always, tell me what you think. Thanks for wanting more from me. It means SO much to me! Love you all!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken @skyslondon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @this-is-not-eirini
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bingoboingobongo · 1 year
Note
If the asks are still open may I make a request. I read your cuddling headcanons for task force 141 and it got me thinking. How would they react to being cradled to their fem s/o's chest. With their fingers running through their hair, listening to their heartbeat? These boys deserve to go to sleep in comfort. Let them go into such a deep sleep they almost go into the light. If you don't feel like doing the whole squad can I just have Ghost?
task force 141 + being cradled
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Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Warnings: none
A/N: help i've been watching neymar jr/jude bellingham edits for so long my fyp thinks im a real soccer fan
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simon "ghost" riley:
alright so simon's definitely more used to being the cradler rather than the cradled
he likes holding your head to his chest and feeling you bury your face deeper into his shirt
but honestly he's never been held by someone else
i mean just on size alone the schematics are kinda awkward
which is why he's sort of caught of guard the first time you pull him to your chest
the two of you were sitting in bed and he was telling you about his day
and you could tell that even though his voice was neutral he was absolutely exhausted (plus all the stuff he had to say just sounded so tiring)
so without saying anything (and a bit of struggle ngl this man is huge and therefore heavy) you manage to pull his head into your chest
he kinda stiffens and tries to get away but you hold him firm against your chest because you know that if he really wanted to leave he easily could
but when he sees how determined you are to keep him there it sorta flicks a switch in his mind that maybe this isn't the worse thing in the world
like obviously you wanted this and he's spent enough time with you to trust you
and besides you're so warm and even though you're not as big as him he can't help but feel secure in your arms so he starts to relax
and you tell him to pick up his head so you can take off his balaclava and he happily obliges
and he takes this opportunity to readjust into a more popular position so that he's more shifted on his side with one of his arms wrapped around your torso
and now he can feel the tiredness start to creep around his eyelids but he doesn't want to fall asleep because he wants to be able to savor this moment
but when you bring your fingers to his hair?
oh. my. lord.
simon melts IMMEDIATELY
he's kinda embarrassed about it but his eyes literally rolled into the back of his head
and after that point it is literally so hard for him to not fall asleep
like he is fighting demons just so he can stay awake and listen to your heartbeat longer
but with the way you're fingers are working magic on his scalp it's not long until his eyes are closing
he honestly doesn't even realize he fell asleep until he wakes up the next morning
and is he stiff as hell?
yes.
but was it worth it?
yes.
john "soap" mactavish:
alright so soap's definitely more chill about it than ghost
like he was the one to put his head on your chest not the other way around
he just likes how soft and warm you are and it makes him feel cozy
but he can't do it all the time because sometimes it gets to hot or he gets worried his head is too heavy
it's like being the little spoon
it's nice but sometimes you just wanna sprawl your entire body over someone else's
so he honestly doesn't let you cradle him very often
plus it's just like an awkward position for him
he doesn't wanna have to crane his neck up to see you and he has to do that when you have his head in your chest
that being said he will sacrifice seeing your face for a bit if it means having you scratch his head for him
although his favorite is when you're sitting on the couch because then he can lay his head on your lap
and then he has a good visual of your face and he gets to have you scratch his head
so it's a win win in his opinion
that being said having his head on his chest is one of his favorite positions to fall asleep in
especially when he's too tired to worry about if it's comfortable for you or not
something about your heartbeat is just soothing what can i say
kyle "gaz" garrick:
hmmm so tbh i don't think gaz is really into the head scratches
like it doesn't really work with his hair texture anyways and they feel funny to him
sorta like how some people love asmr but others can't stand it
and honestly i hate to say it but i don't really see gaz as being super into having you cradle his head and stuff
idk why i just can't see him doing that but maybe im just blind idk
like he might lean his head on your shoulder or even your head or something like that but idk he's just not a cradle kind of guy imo
he definitely loves cradling your head though
like he loves it when you're sitting in the car or on a couch and you lean your head on his shoulder and he can wrap his arm around you
definitely gives a top of the head kiss then too
maybe when he's sleeping he'll put his head on your chest
but again he'd much rather have your head on his chest
plus gaz has found that he has a very sensitive spine
(probably from falling out of like twenty helicopters let's be fr)
and so often when he falls asleep with his head on your chest he wakes up with a super stiff neck
off topic but one time he did fall asleep with his head on your chest and you moved it to his pillow once he fell asleep
and ik it sounds counterintuitive but that day gaz knew he was falling in love because the fact that you knew to do that made his heart soar
john price:
okay so price is obviously older and therefore more mature
and like the wise man he is he's never afraid to rest his head on the chest of a beautiful woman
that's honestly one of his favorite ways to spend his off days
the two of you laying on a couch watching a movie
he let you pick bc you both knew he would pass out by the thirty minute mark
i mean how could he not?
especially when he's laying on your chest and you're fiddling with his hair
twisting it and braiding it and combing through it
also you know he let's out the most guttural groan as soon as your fingers touch his head
and at that point he's more than happy to close his eyes, lay back, and relax as he listens to your heartbeat over the sound of the movie
sometimes you'll say something and he'll grunt in reply
but you both know that he has no idea what you said because he's in that perfect limbo of barely being awake and barely falling asleep
i mean he literally fantasizes about spending his days like that
alejandro vargas:
hm alright so alejandro would definitely rather have you on his chest than lay his head on yours
but also in the end his root motivation for everything is just making you happy so if you ask him to lay his head on your chest he will obey any day
i mean guys...
he is whipped for you let's be real
you say jump he says how high
he'll also never admit it or explicitly ask for it but he does love it when you play with his hair
especially when you curl it around your finger and tug on it a little
sometimes though if he's had a long day he'll come home and just lay his head down on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat
usually he'll get up after a while so he can talk to you without his words being muffled by your chest
sometimes though he's too tired and he'll just straight pass out
still in his gear and everything
rodolfo "rudy" parra:
hehehehe rudy my favorite
all right guys im sure you already saw it coming but rudy definitely LOVES resting his head on your chest
like it is his preferred position for everything
he will outright ask you to lay down so he could go rest his head on your chest
and yes he will ask you to play with his hair too
and he will sing your praises when you do
this definitely started way early in the relationship so you've had lots of time to get used to it
and it's not like you can complain because even if it does get uncomfortable at times rudy is always sure to let you know how much he appreciates it
i mean it just lets him actually sleep well for once
like as soon as his head is on your chest he is passed out
snoring quietly and drooling ever so slightly
and you know when he wakes up he's gonna have those red indent marks on his skin lol
but all jokes aside it really is his favorite thing like if he could he would record the sound of your heartbeat and play it back during missions
and also when he's on duty and has to sleep alone he definitely props up some pillows and tries to pretend it's you
it's not as good as you though
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fadingdaggerr · 2 months
Note
hey! I just wanted to see if I could request a Melissa x Reader fic where basically r is a teacher at the school and her best friend is ava, and r has the fattest crush on melissa ever but the only ones who know are ava, barbra, and mr johnson (bc dude knows everything)
and ava and barbra are trying to be wingman because melissa likes r. so just a bunch of mutual pining and fluff. and when they confess it’s snowing.
if you can’t do that that’s totally fine! but if you do thanks in advance and take your time
as you ever were
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: request above | 8k
includes: mutual pining, ava and barb meddling, kinda dialogue heavy oops, these bitches Oblivious, author is a classics nerd
warnings: (minimal) they/them pronoun use for R, sexual innuendos, (brief) alcohol consumption, kissing/light making out
note: sorry i took so long getting to this req. school started up and work is genuinely insane. plus i got a little too into writing this so editing too a little while. i actually really like how this turned out :)
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Unforecasted frozen rain forced recess to be inside, everyone was to just stick to their classroom since there was no time to prepare the gymnasium for indoor recess on such short notice. The kids spent the first five minutes of recess begging you to go outside, to which you open the window, to which Sean says oh, hell no, resulting in a scolding from you.
Within five more minutes, your teacher-senses begin to tingle. Something is wrong. Looking up from your record book, you glance around the classroom until your eyes land on Karam. The seven year old had just moved to Philly with his parents a few weeks ago, and with this being his first week at a new school, he has been understandably frazzled. The boy is facing towards your desk, away from his classmates, sitting on a beanbag chair and crying to himself.
Immediately, you rise out of your chair and approach him gently, lowering yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him. “Hey, Karam. What’s going on?” you ask calmly, not trying to draw attention to his state nor baby him. The only response you get is a shake of the head, so you ask, “would you like some alone time right here?” Another shake of the head, another question, “do you want to talk alone, just you and me? You can bring Pickle.”
This offer seems to appease him, he instantly stands and goes to his backpack to grab his beloved stuffed sea lion. You get to the doorway and keep your hand on his shoulder where he stands just out of sight of the other kids, hoping no one will see him and decide to get nosy.
“Okay, chickens. I’m going to run across the hall very quickly, keep doing what you’re doing. Ashante, honey, you’re in charge,” you say with a little grin, it becomes a full smile when the girl salutes you.
Once you’re in the hall, Karam grabs your hand tightly with big tears ready to fall, and stays close as you cross diagonally to some of your students' previous second grade classroom. You lean into the doorway, still keeping Karam out of sight of others, and knock to gain a certain redhead’s attention. She’s quick to get to you, seeing a sort of urgency on your face.
“What’s up?”
“Can you watch my class, please? I’ve got a situation here,” you tip your head to the side to gesture to Karam, still gripping your hand and sniffling. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow, lunch, lunch duty, recess duty, whatever. Just, please?”
Melissa takes one look at you pleading eyes and knows she can’t say no to you, especially not with a sad little friend by your side. “You owe me nothing. I’ll bring the kids to my room and you can come get ‘em after,” she says with a tone she hopes shows she’s being genuine.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” you rush out, immediately your attention falling back to the tears rolling down Karam’s cheeks. Melissa scoots over to your room, corralling the kids across the hall with an excited tone to keep their eyes on her and not you and their classmate.
With the extra bodies in the room, Melissa finds that the doorway was a good place to observe all the kids in her room. Though she tries to keep her eagle eyes on the students, they slowly slide to your form in the hall, crouched down below the boy’s eye level with his hand in yours. Her ears feel like a radio, tuning into the hushed volume you keep.
“It’s okay to be sad, buddy. Everything and everyone is so new, you’re allowed to be scared,” you say as you wipe his cheeks with a tissue, “and you and I both know that baba and daddy would never bring you somewhere that wasn’t safe. And Pickle, he’s here for you, and so am I.”
The boy leans into you for a hug, and your arms wrap tightly around him. Melissa tries not to stare, but she’s unable to take her eyes off the interaction. The way you rock him gently side to side, it was clear you weren’t letting go until he did. She vaguely remembers you mentioning that being a rule of yours when you first started at Abbott, when you took over her third grade class and her entire field of vision. 
Melissa averts her eyes back to the kids as the hug ends, but she still listens discreetly. You wipe Karam’s face as you speak, “let’s go get you some water, okay? And maybe, if you use those puppy eyes, nurse Makiah will let you pick out a lollipop. Does that sound like a deal?”
“Do we have to come back to recess?” The shyness in his voice makes you pout.
“Yes, because Miss Schemmenti was super nice to watch all our friends for me while we’re talking, and I’m sure she’d like her room back,” you peek up to Melissa quickly, “and when we get back, we’re gonna say a big ‘thank you,’ alright?”
“Yeah,” Karam answers quietly, but his next words are so quiet you barely hear them, “thank you.”
“Of course, chicken. Let’s go.” Melissa pretends she’s not watching you walk down the hall with a hand still in Karam’s, her eyes switch back to her class when you disappear around the corner.
When you return to get the kids from Melissa, she instead insists that you just sit out the rest of recess in her room since the students were already playing together. That’s the only reason, nothing else. You keep a cautious eye on Karam as he sits down to draw with one of Melissa’s students, and once you see him start to arrange his colors, you drift your attention to the woman next to you.
“Thank you, seriously. And I will be paying you back for this,” you say, bumping your shoulder with hers.
“I said you ain’t gotta do anyth-”
You cut her off, “I said. I’m. Paying. You. Back. Just accept it, I’m not budging.”
All she gives as an answer is a huff through her nose, but the smile that stretches her lips makes you feel fluttery. Her smile is not a rare sight, but it’s rare that you get to see it this close. When she faces away for only a couple seconds, you take the time to just take her in. Beautiful.
In the hall, a conversation between Barbara and Ava about clearing an extra bulletin board for the kindergarteners art projects was halted when they caught Melissa watching you with Karam. Both women looked at her, unseen even by Melissa’s typically sensitive attention, and all they saw was a soft putty of a woman. When you returned to the classroom, they slowly got closer to see what was going on, curiosity drawing them in.
All they could see were gentle, shy smiles and hidden glances of adoration for each other. It clicked in their minds at the same moment. Their best friends had it bad for each other.
Their plan was formed in a single glance.
—☽—
“So… What are you gonna do about Red?” Ava asks as she reaches the midpoint of her braid.
You’re sitting behind her on a cushion, parting a section in the back of her head to start on a braid yourself. Your focus makes your response time slower and quieter than usual, “what d’ya mean?”
Ava’s chuckles, “how you’ve got the hots for Schemmenti.”
Her obvious tone makes you stall, too long, but you try to deflect anyway, “I’ve got no clue what you mean.”
She laughs. Ava laughs and it would be in your face if she weren’t so busy with her hair. She doesn’t need to turn to know you’ve got that shocked expression on your face, the one where your eyes are wide and blank, face otherwise neutral, but she knows the expression well. The first time she’d seen it was the day she met you in seventh grade, and she proclaimed you her best friend to everyone in the cafeteria, just a mere three hours after meeting each other.
“Don’t lie to me, Gremlin,” she jokes, using her nickname for you she adopted from your favorite movie as a kid, “I know when you like someone, and you want that Italian sub to Italian dom you.”
“I hate you,” you groan, “if you mention even a single thing to her Ava, I will buy out all the caramel hair from the beauty supply and you’ll never see it again.” She gasps, as if it were a real threat you could carry out on your budget, but she knows how serious you are. With a roll of her eyes, Ava decides to hold off until you’re not braiding her hair to annoy you more.
Much later into the night and all there is really left to do is trim, seal, and add products to her roots, Ava knows she can’t let the topic of the previous conversation go. She decides to speak up while she trims the last few front pieces and you pick up the hair packaging and combs from around the room.
“Just saying though, if you stopped making ‘I wanna have your babies’ eyes, you could ask her out,” Ava tries to explain. She almost adds a what’s the worst that could happen? but she knows exactly where your mind will go.
“I don’t wanna ‘have her babies,’ you freak,” you sigh as you get some hot water, “I just… I dunno. I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with her when she inevitably rejects me.”
She’s obsessed with you, she won’t reject you, Ava wants to say. Even if others, and even herself, would label her selfish, the one thing she doesn’t ever let slide is you letting your insecurity get the best of you. She likes her extra job as your personal hype-woman when you get in your head. Ava weighs her option, “well… you could put out some feelers. Invite her somewhere or, I don’t know, look her in the eye when you talk to her.”
“You’re right,” you say with a gruffness that she knows is defeat. If she can just get you and Melissa talking, interacting more, then maybe she and Barb can figure out a way to worm you two together.
“You do like her, don’t you?” She knows the answer, she wants you to say it though.
There’s a deep inhale before you answer, “of course I do. She- she’s so- I do like her, so much. Like, I want to bite a chunk out of the table when she looks at me.”
“Yeah, don’t do that, we don’t know where they’ve been,” Ava says with a touch of disgust, “and she’ll think you’re more of a freak than you already are.” She rightfully earns a smack on the shoulder at that one.
Dipping the ends of her hair into the hot water, you think silently. Ava has a point, if you spent even a tenth of the time you spend thinking about Melissa, when she was right in front of you, talking to her instead, you’d probably not be so nervous at the thought of making eye contact with her. Sometimes it was nice though, just getting to look at her, seeing her easy smile when she speaks to Barbara and the playful glint in her eye when she lovingly picks on Jacob. Whenever her attention falls on you, you shy away. Maybe Ava has a point.
At Barbara and Melissa’s weekly brunch that same Saturday morning, their conversation falls down a similar path.
Ever the professional deterrer, Melissa manages to push the conversation away from the topic of you, trying to keep Barb on Gerald or bible club. Usually her friend catches the hint to stay away from the topic, but there’s no way she was getting out of this one.
“So… are we gonna keep beating around the bush or are we going to talk about it?”
Melissa just sips her mimosa, suddenly interested in the painting across the room.
“Melissa.”
What… interesting brush strokes.
“Melissa Ann, so help me.”
She turns back, “yes, Barb?”
“Don’t ‘yes, Barb’ me. Spill,” there is no room for argument.
“There’s nothing to spill, Barb,” Melissa says, and she means it. It’s clear Barbara had picked up on her feelings for you, but nothing had been done to go past acknowledging she cared for you.
Barb tilts her head to the side, “oh, really? So, we’re just going to pretend that you’re not utterly infatuated with everyone’s new favorite third grade teacher?” Melissa stares at Barbara with wide eyes, thrown off by the blunt nature of her inquiry. Her friend only shakes her head, “for the good Lord’s sake, Melissa. Anyone with eyes can see you’ve got feelings for them, and I know you know that too.”
Green eyes shift away from brown, and they instead stare at the drink in front of her, nervous hands coming up to play with the umbrella to keep them busy instead of shaking in her lap. What Barb said wasn’t untrue, she knows it. Barbara Howard is always right in the end. But that isn’t where the apprehension in her gut stems from.
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa mumbles, insecurity from her mind reaching her throat.
Barbara can sense it and tries a softer approach, “I think I can say on good authority that the feelings are probably mutual. You could give it a shot, they’d be lucky to have you.”
“And what’s that good authority?”
“My eyes,” Barbara deadpans, her face reading are you serious?
The conversation stops there, more of a self preservation move for the kindergarten teacher. Underneath the silence from Melissa, it’s obvious her mind is going in circles trying to weigh her options. Did she have feelings for you? Yes. But would she do anything if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain you’d return her feelings? No. She was almost certain you didn’t, you rarely ever looked her in the eye and you got all quiet and mumbly when she spoke.
Conclusion: Barb’s nuts.
—☽—
When Monday comes back around, you feel like the air in the lounge, or at least around your table, is different. Barbara’s eyes keep shifting between you and Melissa in what she thinks are subtle glances, but the constant eyes on you start making you nervous. Shifting uncomfortably for a moment, you rise from your chair to go to the coffee pot to get away from the prying. While your back is to them, a different form of attention falls on you. Olive eyes scan over you with a soft glint, taking the opportunity to admire you when you’re not looking. Her attention feels different from Barb’s, you can feel it without seeing it. It’s warm, all consuming.
When you turn back around, you can see a section of Melissa’s hair swinging slightly from motion. She was looking at you, and she was hiding it horribly. Instead of mentioning it, you just sit and check your school email. In the weekly scheduling, you see that the recess duty that you typically had with Mrs. Benning from sixth grade, was now with Melissa for the entire week.
Your eyebrows jump slightly at the find, before you have to fight an eye roll at Ava’s obvious meddling. Seeing this, Melissa speaks up, “something interesting?”
“No, no,” you barely get out at a normal cadence, “just switches in the schedule, wasn’t expecting it.”
She nods slowly, “are you… not okay with that?” You try not to pout at the insecurity that bleeds just the smallest amount in her question.
“Of course I’m okay with it, no reason not to be,” you hope your genuineness was showing, “just different is all.” A muted smirk crosses her lips before she takes a sip of her coffee to cover her face, you pretend not to notice the move, as well as the butterflies swarming in your stomach. You turn your attention to your phone in your lap.
To AVA ♔ : you’re not slick
From AVA ♔ : good thing i wasn’t trying to be
From AVA ♔ : get up in that cannoli
To AVA ♔ : speaking privileges revoked until further notice
You try to not think about the prospect of an extra half hour with Melissa today, and for the rest of the week, but the thought of her crosses your mind and brings a smile to your face. When you are walking your kids back from music, you selfishly take the extra second you’re in the hall to glance towards Melissa’s classroom. Cursive letters on the board in her loopy handwriting being narrated by her expressive face and fast-moving hands. Another grin crosses your lips before you spin on your heel back to your room.
As lunch rolls around, there’s a giddy feeling in your chest that grows with every passing second. Was she even going to talk to you? Maybe not, but time with Melissa is time with Melissa. Just when you’re sliding your gloves on, there’s a tap at your door. Red hair tucked under an Eagles hat and thick black jacket, she’s never been more beautiful.
Winter at Abbott meant beautifully crafted snowmen that had just a touch of dirt on it, but the kids just decided it was freckles. Most of them were working together on their snowmen, while others were trying to see how long they could hang upside down on the monkey bars in their snow clothes. Melissa, after five minutes of churning the idea over in her mind, moves closer to you, the nylon of your jackets making a fssh sound as they brush together gently. The red on her cheeks was likely from the cold, but the darker shade that blossoms at you smiling and turning to her, that’s all you.
The silence between you is easy, for once it doesn’t make Melissa skeptical. It’s comforting, no nervous rambling or awkward attempts to fill the silence, just peaceful silence as your shoulder moves closer to hers.
Tuesday is just the same, with Melissa coming to your classroom to pick you up for recess duty. Wednesday you meet her in your doorway. The peaceful silence is broken when you check your phone to see copious texts in the teacher group chat, most of which are Janine and Jacob and only two are Gregory. All you let out is a little hum.
“What’s going on?” Melissa asks from beside you, her eyes staying on Marcus attempting to climb on top of the monkey bars.
“Groupchat’s going crazy. Janine and Jacob want a ‘teacher’s night out plus Ava,’ and they’re asking if everyone’s good to go next Friday at seven,” your tone suggests a bit of disinterest, but if Melissa goes, you could be easily persuaded.
Her brows scrunch for only a half second before asking, “what bar?”
“The Penman’s Alcove? Guess Jacob suggested it,” you say after scrolling through the nearly forty messages.
“Sounds like Jacob suggested it,” she says with a sputtered laugh. To her delight, you chuckle from beside her, and she brings her full attention to you, “you going?”
You bite your inner lip and flick your eyes to the side, “maybe. Are you?”
“Maybe.”
—☽—
Ava, who always demands you pick her up when you go out, insists on driving to the bar. When she gets to your apartment and does a once over of your jeans and loose-fitting sweater, she gives you a face of disapproval.
“That is not club attire. What ladies are you going to pick up if you’re dressed like a grandma?”
You roll your eyes as you move to let her in, “it’s not a club, it’s a bar. That Jacob picked out. And I’m not trying to ‘pick up’ ladies?”
“Aw, you’re already committed to Schemmenti. Cute,” her laugh at her own comment is cut off by the pillow you whip at her head, another ready if she pipes up again, “no need to get violent, I’ll stop.”
Her only reply is a huff as you grab your boots and shove in your fluffy-socked feet. Ava rises off the couch, leaving the pillow-turned-missile behind. When she’d asked you earlier in the day if ‘your woman’ was coming to the bar, you’d only shrugged, but with a quick text to Barbara, Ava knew the redhead would be there.
Barbara and Ava had made a pact, that despite their differing reasons for not wanting to go, would only attend the outing to insure that you and Melissa would both go as well. It had taken some convincing on Melissa’s end, but the moment her best friend said your name, her tune changed. She agreed to go as long as she drove herself there, so that when she wanted to inevitably leave early, she could.
As Ava pulls into the parking lot of the bar, neither of you hold back the rolling of your eyes. It was very Jacob. You share a look with your best friend, silently asking what did we agree to?
The Penman’s Alcove is tiny, shoved into one of the smallest brick buildings either of you had ever seen. One window was completely blocked off by a decorative book display, the other gave view to the wooden bar top and wooden support beam that was turned into a cylindrical bookcase with lights weaving around it. What is lacking in space, it clearly made up for in atmosphere.
“You both came!” Jacob’s voice echoes from the door to where you and Ava stand as you evaluate the building. You immediately elbow Ava to stop the joke that you could feel on the tip of her tongue. 
“Said I would, didn’t I?” you asked as you got closer, appreciating how Jacob switched his arms from the instinctive hug he wanted to give to giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Anyone else here yet?”
“Well, Janine, Gregory, me, duh, Barbara, and Melissa just got here, so,” his voice becomes a little sheepish, “you’re the last ones here.”
“Fashionably late,” you and Ava say at the same time, though your tone is more flat since you only said it because you knew she would.
Walking into the bar, the small space didn’t feel bigger, just smaller as you realized just how many shelves of countless books there were. The twenty person capacity limit was starting to make sense as you quickly side stepped around other people to keep up with Jacob. Everyone comes into view, but as green eyes meet yours, cameo light surrounds her and she’s all you can see. The stutter in your step is noticed by no one but Ava, who subtly grabs your arm to pull you closer to everyone, closer to Melissa.
Greetings and small talk fill the space, but all of it is background noise. When Janine finally releases you from her energetic retelling of the four hours it’s been since she last saw you, your attention is finally able to rest on the woman who it had been dying to be on. Melissa sees your eyes flick around until they find her, and she curses how her heart flutters at the way you move towards her in an instant.
Leaning your arms on the bartop, you lean over slightly to order a rum and coke before turning entirely towards the redhead. Even though it had been barely four hours since you’d seen her, you felt yourself missing her. Her eyes, her hair, her laugh, especially the one she barks out when she can’t control herself and laughs suddenly. Something in the navy shirt she wore instead of her bright greens and pinks told you she wanted to fit into the environment, like she didn’t want anyone to see her in such a… Jacob place. Her attempt to keep attention away, yet for you it was impossible not to be drawn to her.
Just like every other time you saw her, your eyes quickly dipped to her neck, a tiny smile passing your lips at her Saint Dominic pendant she had received from her Nana before she’d passed. When you met her eyes, the small smile on your lips grew, and hers did to match.
“Thought you’d never show up,” Melissa says playfully, but with a quiet tone, her words only for you.
“Surprised you even showed,” you mimicked her tone.
Melissa weighs her options before replying, “Barbara told me I should, told me I can count it as my good act of the year.” She relishes in your silent laugh, little puffed breaths leaving you as you turn your face away from her just for a moment to hide. Melissa had realized three days into knowing you that this was her favorite thing, this quiet laugh of yours, she knew that when you turned away, it meant it was genuine.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” you say with earnest, “if that's any consolation.”
A smile plays on glossy, pink lips, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
Two drinks later, and you found yourself meandering through the shelves of books, naturally being drawn to the fantasy section that was oddly close to the classics you also enjoyed. The small bar had reached capacity only a half hour after you’d arrived, and the bustling conversation was starting to pierce your eardrums. The cushions on the floor had become your new seat, in this almost-quiet corner.
The light vibrations of footsteps approaching brings your mind out of the dragon story you were falling into. Your eyes look up to see red hair contrasting against the shadows from the shelves. Melissa lowers herself carefully onto the cushion beside you, taking utmost care in not getting too far into your space. Her finger pokes the book in your hands, pushing it closer to you to read the cover, only a low hum leaving her throat.
She bumps her knee with yours, a silent you alright? She’s seen you get overwhelmed at assemblies and work parties before, often keeping an eye on you as you stuck to a corner, too polite to leave the room. You bump her knee back, a little smile on your lips, a quiet I’m okay. Melissa plays with the creases in her jeans as she tries to think of what to say, but you beat her to it.
“You know what’s fucked? You can’t even check out the books here,” you state with exasperation. “What’s the point of having all these books if you can only read them if you come here?”
Melissa warms with affection at your word, “No one would bring them back, hon.”
“I would,” you mumble with an incredulous tone in your voice, “but no, not even a checkout fee or, I don’t know, collateral.”
“Collateral!” Melissa laughs out. “Gonna hand over your watch to hold onto until you bring the book back?”
“I’d give them my car for those early editions of Mary Shelley’s work,” you half-joke as you nod towards the faded green and blue books. You look at Melissa for a moment, reading her face quickly before leaning into her space, “don’t even suggest stealing them.”
“Would they even notice?”
“These IPA-enjoyers? Definitely, unfortunately.”
Melissa never cared much for the classics, especially not the ones assigned to her in school. She preferred the historical fiction and true crime novels her grandfather introduced her to, but there was something intriguing about the ones you were showing her. There is peace in the way your fingers trace over the pages, a sort of reverence in how you hold each book. Sylvia Plath and Emily Brontë, Greek tragedies and comedies, they never sounded this interesting as they did when they came from your lips.
The world outside of this hidden corner continues to disappear around the two of you, the prying eyes peeking around the corner are completely lost on the two of you. Your eyes on the books, Melissa’s eyes on you. Ava and Barbara’s eyes, on the other hand, were flicking between the two of you before finding each other's eyes. A shared nod began the next step in their plan.
Ava, in a highly out of character fashion, quietly left the bar without saying anything to anyone, and drove off towards Iggy’s apartment. Barbara, pretending not to notice, went back to her conversation with Gregory regarding what he plans on growing in the garden for springtime. It’s Janine who notices Ava’s lacking presence, she peeks out into the parking lot, and sure enough, the silver car you’d arrived in was gone.
In a child-like fashion, Janine tugs on Barbara’s sleeve to gain her attention, “Ava’s gone.”
“What?” Barbara responds with faux surprise.
“Ava, she left. Like, gone. Not here,” without having to ask Barbara to be the one to tell you, Janine was definitely hinting at not being the one to say your best friend ditched you here.
The kindergarten teacher follows the maze of shelves, steps quickening as she gets closer to hushed voices in the furthest corner. In your own little, say you and Melissa, her legs stretched out as she leaned back against her hands while you sat close to her in criss-cross. There are two piles of older books in front of you, ones you had already shown her and the ones you were going to, and Melissa seemed completely unbothered by the infodumping you laid upon her.
Barbara politely clears her throat to make you aware of her presence, watching you nearly jumping away from Melissa as you realize the closeness between you. Pretending not to notice she speaks carefully, “dear, I just wanted to tell you that Ava left a couple of minutes ago.”
The nerves you felt dissipate, annoyance and a small anger taking its place, “what do you mean? She fully just left? Did she even say anything?”
“No, she must’ve snuck out. Janine noticed before the rest of us that she’d taken off,” Barbara is impressed by her own ability to fib so easily.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, keeping yourself from exploding. You rise from your spot next to the redhead, who is quick to follow in your stride, and grab your phone to call you friend. Speedily stepping through the shelves, you step outside as you press Ava’s contact.
She picks up on the second ring, which only pisses you off further, “what’s up, boo?”
“Where the fuck are you? You did not just seriously ditch me,” you waste no time.
“That little library was not the vibe. Plus, you were too busy nerding it up with Red,” she jokes, almost mockingly.
“You were my ride, Ava,” you sigh, “this isn’t cool, especially when I’m going to have to ask Janine to drive me home since she carpooled with Jacob and Gregory.”
“I know who you can ask for a ride,” the laugh she speaks through only hammers home your aggravation, “maybe she’ll give you more than one.”
A hard groan escapes your throat, “you owe me big time, asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thank me later,” she hangs up on you before you can respond, the beeping tone of the disconnection feels more mocking than your friend straight up laughing in your ear.
When you step back inside, your brows are furrowed, deep creases on your forehead as you practically steam with anger. Never before would Janine, Gregory, or Jacob say they were intimidated by you, but right now, they can’t deny that you are almost as frightening as Melissa’s angry walk. Barbara looks at Melissa pointedly, motioning with her head towards you to tell her to talk to you.
The redhead is already in motion, immediately in front of you, “what did she say?”
Sarcasm and irritation drop from your voice, “the ‘library’ wasn’t ‘her vibe,’ so she’s apparently ditching me to ride home with Gregory and the Chipmunks.”
She doesn’t want to laugh at your predicament, but she can’t help it. Her hand rises to rub your arm reassuringly, “I’ll drive you home.”
“You don’t ha-”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Let me get you home,” the gentleness in her voice makes the icy anger in you melt into a puddle, the hand on your arm was grounding.
“Okay,” your voice just above a whisper in the space between you.
“Okay,” her tone matching yours as she smiles.
Melissa’s car is warm, her presence beside you warmer. With only a couple blocks left before you reach your apartment, you find yourself wishing you knew how to slow, or even stop, time. Would inviting her upstairs seem forward? Is asking her if she wants coffee better? No, stupid, who wants coffee at ten at night? All you need is to be around her.
When her car parks in the lot of your building, neither of you move, not you to get out or her to tell you to. You turn your face towards her, resting your chin on your shoulder, peering through your lashes at her. She matches your position, looking back at you with a little grin.
“Thank you for listening to me,” your voice is quiet and insecure.
Melissa leans a little closer, “thank you for letting me.”
“I’ll see you Monday?” You don’t want to leave, but despite it being Friday, it has also been a school day. You’re tired, and you can see in her slightly droopy eyes that she is too.
“Bright and early,” she answers, eyes flicking to your lips shortly in a way you wish you hadn’t seen. She makes it impossible to want to leave.
Melissa stays in her parking spot until you disappear into the building, not before you glance once more at her and wave shyly. Her head rests against the steering wheel as she struggles to compose herself, before pulling out on the street.
You both fall asleep that night to dreams about the secret corner you’d found yourselves in, books stacked around while your eyes stayed on each other.
—☽—
There’s a certain pep in your step come Monday morning, but a small amount of dread knowing you’ll have to face Ava later. She knew better to keep her distance over the weekend, but though your annoyance with her was fading, it was definitely there. You push into the lounge, immediately gravitating towards the coffeemaker.
You enjoy the hum of the TV, Jim Gardener’s voice coming from the speakers as you focus on Melissa in your periphery. Clicking steps in the hallway stiffen your back, all eyes in the room shifting to you as your best friend, boss, and ditcher enters. The cocky smile on her face falls when you stand and leave the room without a word.
“Seriously? Still mad?” Ava asks with such a genuine tone that Gregory’s head drops into his hands.
Melissa speaks before Ava can even blink, feeling like she had to defend you after seeing how upset you’d been, “so selfish you couldn’t even give a heads up? Some best friend you are, ditching them.” Ava only responds by raising her hands in defeat, giving up on an argument with Melissa before it starts.
“You checking on that one or should I?” Mr. Johnson asks from the doorway where he’s collecting the trash, his eyes set on Melissa. His answer is just the second grade teacher pointing at herself in question, surprised that he would’ve thought of her to check on you. His face screws up, “duh? Who else?”
She listens. When Melissa reaches your classroom, quickly carried by fast and angry steps, she sees you at your whiteboard, writing the agenda and date on it. The unusually harsh strokes of your writing show her exactly what mood she’s walking into. She almost jumps when she knocks on the door and your head whips her way, hard face softening.
“Hey,” you breathe out, going back to writing the afternoon’s schedule.
“Hey. I just wanted to check on you,” she she says as she slides the orange marker down towards you.
“I’m fine, really. I’m mostly just pissed Ava left me like that and thinks it’s hilarious. You’d think I would be used to it by now, but apparently not,” you huff, “just like her mom always says, Ava’s gonna Ava.”
“How long you giving her the silent treatment?”
“Till she actually apologizes and doesn’t just assume it’s all good, it’s the only way. I’m not even that mad about it, if she wanted to leave she could’ve just said,” you shift your weight from foot to foot, “it’s the principle of it.”
Melissa glances over your face, grateful you don’t seem to notice, and she realizes it's less anger, more disappointment. It’s so starkly different from the smile that played on your lips and the gleam in your eyes just the other night. She so badly wants that back, she craves your smile.
It took three days for Ava to finally apologize, and she only does when she comes over to your apartment, no interest in letting the other hear her grovel. She hadn’t meant to make you upset, she was just trying to get you and Melissa alone, and so far, her efforts seemed to be working. She was diligent to not let out that it was a joint plan between her and Barbara, and that Melissa was getting played just as much as you.
—☽—
A snow storm Thursday night almost takes out your power, and the chill seeps through the brick walls, forcing you to bed early in a bundle of blankets. You wake up to your phone ringing at five in the morning, only a half hour before your alarm was to go off. Seeing Ava’s contact worried you immediately.
“What?” you say through a yawn, “are you okay?”
“Aw, you love me,” she jokes through her own large yawn.
“I do. Now, what do you want?”
“It’s a snow day, bitch. The roads aren’t too bad, but apparently the buses are fucked.”
You sigh with contentment, “snow day means I’m going back to bed.”
“Okay, lazy. I’ll see you tomorrow for wine night?”
You can barely answer through another yawn, “yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”
It’s not until ten that you wake up again, sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow and making your room too bright to stay asleep any longer. The air in the room is too cold for your taste, leaving you to wrap your throw blanket around yourself as you trudge out to your kitchen for the promise of warm coffee. As coffee drips into the pot, the star-printed throw is replaced by your favorite grey sweatshirt, the faded university logo still maintaining a touch of the maroon and silver it once was.
The second cup of coffee tastes of cinnamon and cream, the warmth keeping your hands from stiffening under the cold of your building. No matter how much you turned up the heat, the draft made it obsolete. As you pour a third cup, clinging to the warmth it gave, you feel your phone buzz in your Abbott sweatpants.
From Melissa: How busy are you today?
To Melissa: on a snow day? not at all. why? 
From Melissa: I’ve got a surprise for you.
To Melissa: should i be worried?
From Melissa: Do you trust me?
To Melissa: you know i do
When she doesn’t answer, anticipation starts to take hold. It hits you as you nervously sip your coffee, you’re still in your pajamas and Melissa is coming. You tumble down to your room, switching the sweatpants for an old pair of jeans, the faded sweatshirt for a thick black sweater, fluffy socks into slippers. Part of you grapples if you should make coffee for the both of you, the other part tells you a fourth cup may give you a heart attack upon seeing Melissa, your heart would never be able to take it.
A quiet ping from your phone alerts you that Melissa is down in the lot as she waits for you. You don’t even take a moment to answer, just quickly throwing on your denim jacket before hurrying down the steps to the bottom floor. Peeking your head out, you see the only car with lights on, the familiar black car making you smile. The snow had slowed overnight, wisps still quickly sticking to your hair and clothes.
Melissa doesn’t notice your approach, not until you tap on her frosted window with your knuckles, making her jump. She was lost in her mind, thinking about how bad of an idea it was, startling quickly at your tap, but quickly soothed by your smile and little wave. Melissa steps out of the car, leaning against it to keep you from peeking in her window and seeing the passenger seat.
“You really shouldn’t’ve driven, what if the roads were nasty?” you say with concern, despite the fact that you couldn’t be happier with her presence.
“They weren’t, I got here just fine,” she says, placating the worry.
You can’t even hide the smile that shows itself, “what sort of surprise was worth the black ice?”
“There was no black ice,” she laughs, shifting under your gaze, “but I hope it’s a surprise you’ll like.” There’s an unusual nervousness in her, one that you can’t help but feel and want to soothe.
“If it’s from you, I definitely will.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Try me,” you cock your head to the side, a sly smirk on your face. Melissa ducks her face, concealing her blush. She opens the door, leaning in to grab the bag from the seat. A deep breath leaves her lungs as she composes herself before facing you. The paper bag is stretched out towards you, green eyes begging you to relieve her of this weight.
You try to be careful, not wanting the gentle snow to touch the contents. Peering up at Melissa, she urges you to open it. You reach in and feel something, a cloth covered board you think, until you feel what you think are pages. A book? No, three.
You pull back your hand, the books coming with it. A faded green cover with black serif text reads Frankenstein, the blue reads The Short-Stories of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley: A Complete Collection, and the final red one, Mathilda. The books you had fawned over a week ago were now in your hands, the very same you said you’d give your car for. No words form, only thick tears in your eyes that you pray don’t fall. They were the exact same books, the copies from the bar, and now they’re in your hands.
You can only look at the redhead, absolutely bewildered. She gives you a weak smile, having a hard time gauging your reaction and you slide the books back into the bag to protect them. There’s no warning, not verbal or even a glint in your eye, before you fling yourself onto her, wrapping your arms around her neck.
“Thank you, oh my fucking God, thank you, thank you, what the fuck?” your words fall out of your mouth, barely able to contain the delight running through your veins.
Melissa doesn’t answer right away, only wrapping her arms around you and basking in the feeling of you there. You smell like coffee and cinnamon, she wishes she could find out if your lips taste the same. Neither of you move, not wanting to be the one who breaks away first.
After a minute, your face lifts from her neck, but you don’t remove yourself from her arms. She meets your gaze, watching you watch her. Melissa is the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet, you’re sure of it. But right here, right now? She’d never been more so, nothing else compared to the snow stuck to her lashes, the pink of her cheeks from the chilled air, the lack of makeup across her skin allowing you to see all her freckles and the lines around her eyes.
“You got me the books,” it's a simple sentence, but there’s a weight to it that Melissa almost can’t handle.
She smiles so softly it makes you want to cry, “you love them, you wanted them.” The look in your eyes changes, and Melissa seems to notice. She finally speaks up, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is, at least I hope not,” you answer truthfully.
“Why that look on your face then?” Her lips look so soft, you have to tell her.
You swallow your pride, pursing your lips before telling her the thought that had been on your mind since you met her, “I really want to kiss you.”
It appears she feels the same, Melissa immediately leans into you, lips pressing to yours. You knew they’d be soft, and God were they. Her hands plant themselves on your hips while yours cup her neck, pulling her as close as you possibly can. Spinning suddenly, you find yourself pressed against her car, cold metal freezing you through your layers, but warm lips make the cold feel little. For someone so abrasive, Melissa was so soft, holding you like you were the most precious thing to her. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip, asking for entry. And who are you to deny her?
Her tongue traces yours, a groan comes from deep in your chest that only spurs her on further. She presses impossibly closer to you, hands sliding up to hold you at your ribs, pressing into your jacket in an attempt to get closer. Your blunt nails dig into her neck, not enough to hurt, just to feel more of her. All you’ve wanted since you met her was to be this close, and it felt like an unreachable dream until now.
Her lips pull away, only to be chased by yours. You press gentle, chaste kisses to her lips, and it only becomes more difficult as matching dopey grins grow on your faces. Her hand rises to your cheek, caressing the chilled skin that warms under her touch.
She barely hears your words over her rapidly beating heart, “you’re so pretty.”
“Haven’t seen yourself then, huh?” she jokes, pretending your statement didn’t make her feel like a giggly teenager.
“Funny, but I mean it. You’re so pretty,” your hand shifts around her cup her jaw, “I can’t believe you got those books for me. How?”
She smirks to herself, “I just asked nicely.”
“Nicely? Did you bat your lashes and give them that award-winning smile?” The sarcasm that should have been there sounds more like adoration, the lazy smile on your lips making them look even more kissable than they’d been before.
“Exactly, they just handed them right over,” she feels like a pile of mush with you looking at her like this.
The hand on her jaw pulls her in closer, “they’d be stupid not to.” There’s no chance to reply, just your lips pressing to hers again. It feels as easy as breathing with you, like she was supposed to be doing this the whole time. When you pull away, it’s just barely, a silent request in the way you stroke her cheek.
Reluctantly, she pulls away from you to take her keys out of the ignition and grabs her purse from the floor of the car. An arm wraps around hers as you lead her towards the door to your building, the other tightly holds the books against your chest. It was too soon to say it, but you knew that right here, right now, you were utterly in love with Melissa Schemmenti. The woman who probably threatened the employees at the Penman’s Alcove for the books when they said she couldn’t buy them, the one who listened for two hours as you spoke about authors and books she’d never cared about before.
She cared now. She cared because you did.
Melissa knew the moment you saw the books, that she would do whatever it takes to see that wonder on your face again. She thinks to herself that endeavor would be a good way to spend the rest of her life.
title is from a quote from mary shelley’s frankenstein: “you are still, as you ever were, beyond beautiful expression.”
i chose the st. dominic for mel’s pendant bc hes typically worn by educators
feedback appreciated as always <3
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scorpioracha · 3 months
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Dating Yoongi
We've finally got the dating Yoongi headcanons!! I'm sorry it took so long but boy is it lengthy so strap in. this is not proofread and im fucking exhausted so edits to be done eventually. if you enjoy reblog, like and leave a comment. cw: does contain smut and one kys moment
Your meet cute with Yoongi ended up being more of a meet awkward than anything. It was 3am at one of the many random convenience stores in Gangnam and you were exhausted, exhausted and hungry. You were doing a year in Seoul for your major and the timezones were really fucking you up. Puffy sleepy eyes,glasses on and a sleep mask resting on your forehead made quite the picture.
It was also quite the picture when you ran into a rack of honey butter chips and wiped out on the floor.
Full wipeout.
Legs up,gravity turned on its head wiped out.
Thankfully the only thing wounded was your pride, but you kinda wished you knocked yourself out so you couldn’t see the handsome man towering over laughing so hard his eyes practically disappeared and a gummy smile on his face. He had a cup of ice and one of those americano packets balanced in one hand and a helmet dangling in his other.
“...chana?”
“Huh?”you said in a daze. 
“Gwaenchana?”he purred in a low rumble. He looked at your lost expression and sucked in a breath.
“Are you okay?”It was a little clunky and half mumbled but you didn’t want to put this man through any more mental torment so you nodded quickly.
“Ne, na gwaenchana!”you replied and quickly scrambled to your feet, almost falling once again because your ankle decided now was the time to roll. He quickly reached out and steadied you, looking at you with so much bewilderment the whole situation felt comical. He looked at the hand that still rested on your arm and quickly pulled it away, you swear you saw his pale cheeks turn pink.
“Um…”he rumbled, looking at you with weary eyes. “stay”
You nodded with wide eyes as you watched this random man run around the convenience store and come back with a juice box and a random red pouch. He looked at you and held up each one.
“Bae juice”
He held up the red pouch. “Hong sam jelly for sukchwi…one moment”
He pulled out his phone and typed quickly. He held the phone to his ear and hummed.
“For hangover”he said, pointing to the two items again. Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly. You weren’t drunk. He definitely misinterpreted the situation and just smiled, giving you a smile and waving goodbye before disappearing into the night.
And what do you do when a pretty man buys you pear juice and ginseng jelly in a foreign country?
You fucking c o n s u m e it.
And the next morning when you woke up late to your 8:00am lecture, you just blamed the crazy night because wow what the fuck happened.
You spent the rest of your classes thinking about that handsome stranger. Maybe you did hit your head because WHY didn’t you ask for his name or his katalk? You could have done the whole ‘oh handsome young man, I need to pay you back’ kinda schtick but your brain decided to cosplay the very first windows computer and blue screen the minute you looked at him. stupid.
“Stupid” you groaned, trudging back to your dorm. You had been blessed—got accommodations—for a single room so it was just you and your twin sized 
Oh yeah, and your pining. 
Couldn’t forget about your pining.
You needed a drink. A good drink,some good food and some cartoons to get your mind off this random man. Within minutes you had a bottle of soju and a hefty platter of tteokbokki on the way. Maybe you’d go out for bingsu sometime this week with the girls from your lecture. They were sweet and treated you just like anyone else despite the racial and cultural differences, doting on you as their new maknae and always making sure you ate between classes. It was nice to be looked out for so thoroughly, especially when you were so far away from home. You pulled your phone out to text them when you got a notification that your delivery driver was already on the way.
Huh. they were already earning themself a tip. You stood eagerly by the door waiting and even though you were watching the app like a hawk, you jumped when the doorbell rang and scrambled to open it.
“Gamsahab-”you looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “...-nida”
“Soju?”he raises his brow in a way that says ‘again?’. You felt your face grow hot and shook your head rapidly. He just smirked and handed over your takeout bags.
Once again you fucked up,blanked and forgot to ask for his name.
 Damn pretty boy with his pretty eyes and his stupid smile.
It was months before you had seen him again. 
Time heals all wounds and you began to move on. You hung out more with your friends, went to karaoke,saw the sights of Seoul and slowly but surely felt yourself moving on.
It was on a rainy day in May where you found yourself at your usual convenience store. The weather went from sunny skies to torrential downpour within minutes and you had just gotten your hair done. You were looking for an umbrella but found yourself in the snack aisle. 
Blame it on the wind.
What you didn’t expect to find in the snack aisle were seven men bickering. 
You kinda just stood like 🧍🏾‍♀️ until one of them finally turned and god he was stunning 
“Yah, Yoongi-yah!! Move and let this lady through!”
The ‘Yoongi’ in question quickly scooted out of the way, mumbling about how they were all in the way. 
That mumble…
“Yoongi..”you whispered before you could even stop yourself. His gaze snapped up and for once you caught him off guard. His eyes flitted over you rapidly and his mouth opened and shut like a nutcracker.
“Soju girl,”he whispered. Then the moment was lost.
"na iroumi aniya(that’s not my name)” you huffed in annoyance. You know there was an honorific you were supposed to use somewhere in that sentence but your point still stood.
“You speak Korean”another boy said and god he was tall.
“Yes I speak Korean”you said, tilting your head up at him.
“Hyung, you said soju girl couldn’t speak Korean!”a voice laughs. You squint your eyes at this Yoongi who seemingly wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He stared at you like he had seen a ghost actually which wasn’t making things much better. The tall boy sighed and took a step forward, bowing even. 
“I apologize for my hyung,”he said solemnly. “He’s usually not this dumb. I’m Kim Namjoon and these are my bandmates. What’s your name?”
You smiled and returned the bow, happy to finally have some familiarity, both language and warmth.
“I’m y/n”you said. “I think me and your hyung have some catching up to do”
Yes, to say it was a meet awkward was the nicest way to put it.
It was a fucking train wreck of events if you were being completely honest.
You had exchanged info with Namjoon seeing as he spoke the most English and was the only one who didn’t 👁️👄👁️ at you which was nice and had quickly become good friends with one another.
Seeing that their leader liked you, the rest of the boys quickly followed suit and you suddenly had a much bigger friend group than you could even imagine.
Yoongi had become a lot more reserved in a way that was off putting to say the least. You’d only ever spoken to him twice before but there was something off.
you’d asked Namjoon about it during one of your study/music/kill each other from frustration sections and he just shrugged mumbling something about ‘hyung being busy’ 
you rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff to find out yourself. That’s what you get for asking a dumbass.
Yoongi had been exactly where you’d expect him to be, crammed into one of the practice rooms with his headphones and laptop.
“Yoongi,” you said, tapping on his shoulder. He spun around in a startle and looked at you with a relieved sigh.
“Oh god”he breathed out, “I thought you were one of the maknae begging for food”
You couldn’t help but to smile, all the prior annoyance melting out of your pores and back to the depths of hell where they belonged. Talking to Yoongi was easy, that is when he was still talking to you.
“How do you know I'm not begging for food?”you smirked, taking a seat on the lumpy couch.
“Well, are you?”he asked, raising a brow. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch.
“You’re off the hook”you said, “but I do have a question” “Which is?” “Why have you been avoiding me lately?”
The room grew silent enough you could hear a pin drop. Cornered was the only way you could describe Yoongi. His shoulders scrunched up and he seemed to fold in on himself.
“No reason,”he said plainly.
Your eyes narrowed.
“So you have been avoiding me?”
His eyes widened.
“That’s not what I meant-”
“Then what did you mean?”you asked. Your patience was wearing thin and your heart was racing something ugly.
“I was trying to give you space”
“Space for what? I didn’t ask for space!”you snapped.
“Space for you and Namjoon!”he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest.
“Me and Namjoon?”you gagged. “The last thing me and Namjoon need is space, please collect your dongsaeng cause he won’t leave me alone!”
“Well he’s your boyfriend!”Yoongi threw back.
Huh.
“Huh?!”You shrieked. 
“It doesn’t take a genius to find out,”Yoongi continued, rolling his eyes. “So you can drop the naive act”
“Naive act—Yoongi, you think I'm dating Namjoon?”you asked. You felt like you were going to be sick. Namjoon wasn’t bad by any means, he was just so older brother coded it was disgusting.
“I don't think, I know,”he said. “You guys spend all your time together,you go on dates,you take naps together; it’s obvious”
“Well since you’re such a genius”You said, “How come you couldn’t tell that i’m in love with you?”
Huh.
“Huh?”he said, spinning around in his chair to fully face you. You ran a hand over your face and honest to god laughed.
“Idiots”you said in disbelief. “You’re all idiots”
“Hey-”
“I've been pining over you for months and this whole time you think i’ve been dating Namjoon”you said, shaking your head.
“You’ve been what?”Yoongi said. 
“Crushing on you”you emphasized, “You idiot”
“i..I don’t know what to say,”he said. You sighed and fully leaned back against the chair, feeling all the blood rush to your head from your bold confession. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.
“You can let me down gently for starters”you chuckled humorlessly.
“Let you down—what are you talking about?”he asked.
“Just reject me already!”You exclaimed, waving your hands frantically. You felt like a madwoman.
“Why would I reject you?”his eyebrows furrowed.
You were going to be sick.
“I’m going to be sick”you laughed, running your hands over your face and god were you crying?
“Why are you crying?”he rumbled softly, leaning in and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You just laughed harder, but that ended up turning into a sob because you were so tired. You weren’t expecting a fairytale but this wasn’t the turn you thought today would take. You felt yourself being pulled closer and you knew you should pull away, you knew better. It was all too much and he would just hurt you, but his hoodie smelled like coffee. His hoodie smelled like coffee and his hands were warm as they wrapped around you. You always wondered if he ran hot or cold, but he was neither; Yoongi was pleasantly warm. His hand had somehow wriggled between the two of you and rested on your cheek, rubbing the streaks where your tears trailed. His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for a moment you felt weighless.
“What a mess, huh?”he mumbled, tracing his thumb over your temple. “I went and made all these assumptions…because I was afraid to say I love you”
“You love me?”you whispered. 
“Mm”he rumbled in affirmation. “You didn’t know?”
“No”you said, keeping your voice low, scared if you spoke too loud, the moment would disappear.
“I thought I was being obvious,”he said.
“I thought I was being obvious,”you said. You pulled your head back to look at Yoongi and that gummy smile was on full display.
“We’re both idiots”
Actually dating Yoongi went much smoother than the confession process.
In the early days, the two of you spent a lot of time in the genius studio doing parallel play, you’d work on your assignments and he would work on music. 
Obviously with many interruptions from the maknae line + hoseok, occasionally being prodded by Seokjin and Namjoon to eat,drink and get fresh air
Y’all needed to touch grass and they were sick of it
Being so close to the band in their early days formed an immeasurable bond between you all
But it also lead to a lot of sacrifices on your part that you weren’t prepared to make. 
There was the obvious like no posting about the boys on social media,nda’s up the wazoo,etc. This was all expected and you were willing to do so.
What you weren’t prepared for was how cruel the kmedia could truly be. You weren’t from here, you were a foreigner and that already put a target on your back. The fact that you weren’t thin or pale didn’t help one bit either. 
Thankfully, the boys and Yoongi reassured you in private. Namjoon did damage control and argued with the company to do more on your behalf, while Jimin and the maknae stood by your side like bodyguards wherever you went in silent solidarity. You were never alone. Jin dropped you off at university in the morning, along with Jungkook. Scolding the two of you to have a good day and to eat something that wasn’t chips. Naturally, Jungkook would bring you back once your classes were done and continued to gripe that even though he was older than you, he was still stuck in highschool.
You still hold this over his head to this date.
So thankfully, you had support. Support that if you didn’t have you weren’t sure where you would be honestly. It really felt like you all had become a little family, and being so far from home that was something you desperately needed.
Once the group got larger and was in a more stable position you better believe they all stopped holding their tongues, especially Yoongi. He could be a little hard to read at times but you were not expecting him to be getting himself into full on twitter wars on a burner account over you 💀
“Yoongi stop telling people to kill themselves”
“No”
Being in love with Yoongi felt easy, it was natural. He continued to take care of you in little ways whether it was packing your lunch,giving you transit fare or rubbing your temples when you were tired and falling asleep on him.
Our mans is definitely about that acts of service life. He loves quietly.
Pda made him want to die just a little inside but he wasn’t opposed to holding your hand. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide anyways, you guys were already public. 
He wasn’t the jealous type and although he’d never admit it, he loved how much you and the boys love each other. He’s got a bunch of pictures on his phone of you just in the dorms being domestic. You spent more time there than you did in your own dorm room.
 So although he doesn’t say it often, he shows it with every part of his being. The way his eyes sparkle when he sees you in the morning, his proud smile in your graduation photos. It also made his heart flutter that you got his dry humor and you dished it right back to him, smack in the middle of the maknae line teasing him and Jin about being old.
And when you learned Daegu Satoori from Taehyung to surprise him? Namjoon had to hold him back from proposing on the spot. And to think he ever thought you and Namjoon were dating.
Yoongi bits ✨tid bits about you and yoongi ✨
Yes Yoongi genuinely thought you were drunk and he wasn’t flirting(he got that nuerodivergent rizz)
When Yoongi told you the mint hair wasn’t real and washed it out you cried 🧍🏾‍♀️
You guys have two apartments together, one near Hybe and one in Daegu. You both prefer the apartment in Daegu because that means Holly gets to stay with you guys.
Everytime a new design for shooky it mysteriously appears in the apartment.
You guys have two cats per your request(a white one named sugar and a black one named gloss) the things Yoongi does for love
You guys have been happily engaged for the past year and he proposed in the most unromantic way possible 
NSFW
Baby, Yoongi is a switch with a capital S
Now I have never met a non kinky neurodivergent person and Yoongi is no exception. He enjoys a good power dynamic and has definitely explored kink in the past with previous partners so he’s experienced.
 But Yoongi does occasionally just like to fuck, no rules no dynamics. Just vanilla sex
He’s a lot softer than his image and he honestly likes the separation between the two for his own sanity. The fans think he’s this no nonsense hardass, but he’d much rather praise and reward you than dole out punishments.
He’s a softie at heart and finds a bit of bratty behavior to be cute so you can definitely get away with a lot. Not to say he’s a complete pushover but he definitely will let a good amount of back talk slide before he puts you in your place. It's almost infuriating how calm he is if you’re the type that brats in hopes of a punishment. He’ll just look at you and laugh about how cute you’re being before returning back to whatever he was doing.
It’s pretty hard to tick him off but also not impossible, the easiest way to get him to snap is to mess with him in the studio; especially if he has a deadline coming up. That's how you end up on your knees crammed under his desk not even allowed to suck his dick but just sit there and keep it warm while he works. The condescending mumbles and coos he lets out while stroking your head is enough to send you careening straight into subspace. “Just needed something in your mouth, huh?”he’d purr and gently drag his nails across your scalp
Tongue technology. We all know about it, but you get to experience this first hand at your beck and call. Yoongi is the first one to admit you’re spoiled and when you’re not being a brat, all you have to do is ask and he’ll be in between your legs. He could and has spent hours down there teasing your folds and giving you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore.
Somnophilia. This is a kink that goes both ways for you guys but honestly he finds it really hot when you take what you need from him. Waking up groggy in the middle of the night to you fucking yourself on his cock is one of the quickest ways to get Yoongi whining and gripping the sheets. Bonus points if you tie his hands up or cuff them to the bed posts.
He’s not really a fan of quickies and prefers to take his time, but he’s not opposed to shoving you into a closet and getting you off on his fingers if you’re getting needy. He just wants to take care of his girl.
Speaking of his hands, they end up around your throat and in your mouth quite often. Whether you’re sucking or gagging on them, Yoongi makes good on this little fixation and makes sure you get your fill.
He’s down to being pegged. Somebody had to say it guys,🗣️ Yoongi wants something up his ass ‼️
Whether you have him bent over a table or you’re tied up and he’s riding you, Yoongi does enjoy penetration and he’s not ashamed of it. He likes how dazed and pliant you get when he’s bouncing on your strap all flushed and pink and whining. it’s a rush to his head and sends him over the edge faster than he can get a hand on himself.
He’s a fan of cozy aftercare and pillow talk. After you’ve both cleaned up and the bed is moderately clean, he’s off in the kitchen getting snacks and water so you two can cuddle and recap what you liked and disliked. He gets really affectionate after he cums so it usually dissolves into him mumbling praises and kissing all over your face before falling asleep.
All in all Yoongi is the best boy.
340 notes · View notes
lynnlovesthestars · 7 months
Text
Scars.
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Pairing: Astarion x reader Genre and warnings: angst, lots of it, hurt barely any comfort, allusions to sexual assault, past trauma, graphic description of torture, kidnapping, blood, violence, set in act 3, mention of death. Notes: not proof read ngl, i wrote it after dreaming it, and i didnt even wanna read it again, i cried like a bitch cause it’s kinda like…. past experience projected? just yeah dont ask if im ok after writing this, the answer is no lmao... also just a side note since it’s the first time im posting on this profile, but english is not my first language so please be mindful about it. Edit 10/06/23: i finally went through it end edited it.. i hope i catched all the errors cause idk if i'll ever be strong enough to give it another read ahah
Getting so close to someone meant so much for Astarion, and the more he cared, the more new fears would swim through his brain. 
Since you arrived in the lower city, and his bed was no longer cold at night, a new nightmare snuck in.
The idea that Cazador would be able to get to you, and weaponize you against him, made his cold blood run even colder. Several nights you woke up to a trembling and sweating Astarion, as he was begging for mercy. He never explained too much about these nightmares to you, just letting you know it was about Cazador again and again, but he left out the haunting possibility of you getting hurt because of him. On the other hand you believed it was because you were getting so close to the Szarr palace, and Cazador knew about it just as much as Astarion did.
It was the middle of the night when the sound of a broken glass stirred you awake. You looked around you, Astarion still deep into his meditating state, while the others were asleep as well, none of them reacted to the sound like you did. Maybe you just had a light sleep, you thought, and someone in the tavern dropped a few glasses or something. It was when hands gripped your wrists that you jolted up, looking behind you. It was too dark to see, and all you could spot were the deep red eyes, like Astarion's, though they lacked the warmth of his.
A shiver ran through your spine as you realized what was happening, but when you tried to call for the others, you realized how deep in shit you actually were: no sound would leave your lips, like you were silenced.
"There's no need to be afraid, Tav." A deep cold voice whispered so close to your ear. "They can't hear you".
The voice chuckled at your failed attempts to call for Astarion, Karlach or anyone, as tears were starting to pool at the edge of your eyes.
Another pair of hands took hold of Astarion, magical shackles fastened around his hands and feet, just as they did to yours, and then they started dragging you both away.
The deep voice spent the whole travel taunting you with stories of Cazador, how cold blooded he was, and just how much he enjoyed torturing his victims. From one point of view you were already accustomed with such stories about him, but from the other, the idea of Cazador getting hold of Astarion again, made your blood freeze again. You were not going to let Cazador hurt him again. You were set on the idea.
When you reached the corridors of Cazador's palace, the silencing spell finally wore off, though Astarion was still not moving. Terror flashed through your eyes as you wondered if they had already…
"What did you do to him?!" You breathed out as you tried so hard to keep your calm in front of the spawns that were dragging and pushing you through the dark hallways.
The spawn scoffed as he pushed through and through.
"Don't worry, he's not dead" You could feel his eyes rolling at the question, like it was some dumb question you should have known the answer to. "..yet" he added at last.
You couldn't stop your mouth from twitching, between the state of rage that was slowly building up, or the terror of them hurting Astarion.
"What's going on? Can i know that at least?" You wanted so bad to cast a spell on him, charming him into freeing you, but without the use of your hands, you were useless.
"Cazador wants to give you a warm welcome into Baldur's gate" He giggled, as the smell of old blood mixed with the sour taste of the bile threatening to spill from your lips, and you couldn't hold it anymore, and your feelings started spilling out.
You couldn't help then to try and get Astarion free at least. You wanted to shake those hands off of you, to wiggle out of the shackles that bound your magic, but no matter how much you tried, you were like set in stone, unable to do anything but move forward, shed tears, and talk. Or more specifically, beg.
Beg them to hurt you, instead of Astarion. 
Beg them to keep you here, and let your star free.
Beg them to turn you if needed, but spare Astarion's life.
Anything, if it meant not hurting the man that stole your heart with a dagger to your throat.
Quickly you were tossed in a cage, adjacent to Astarion's, and locked in.
The shackles that bound your feet dissipated, as the cage started ascending upward.
It halted in front of an altar, you guessed, that directly faced into the chasm you ascended from. Other spawns, around twenty you were able to count, started taking seats around the edges, sitting all in religious silence on their knees.
Astarion was still passed out, cradled on the floor of the cage, both restraints still tightly bound to him.
"Please, please, please" You cried out as the last bit of your strength was going to be dedicated towards trying to get Astarion free, far away from this place. "Let Astarion go, i beg you" You repeated your plea again, as you saw all those spawns stir from their seats, they wanted to turn their heads, to face whoever was foolish enough to beg Cazador for mercy, to trade spots with Astarion.
Everyone in that room knew what was going to happen, he was going to show them what happens when you disobey, when you run away thinking you can escape him. Instead you were so foolish and blinded by love, that you wanted to take Astarion's place, unaware of the extent that Cazador would go to. Yet you didn't stop, you kept begging and begging until a voice, the voice, echoed through the altar's walls.
"Tsk you just gave me a wonderful idea" the man hummed as his scepter started glowing, and Astarion started stirring awake, he looked around him, his tired eyes quickly widening as the reality around him had set in his mind.
"Let her go, you son of a bitch" Astarion growled as he stood up so quick, and gripped at the iron bars separating him from Cazador. 
"Touch her and I swear I'll spill your guts right here" He spit out of the cage, a symbolic spit cause you were too far away to reach him.
"My, my, our dear Astarion has forgotten all the manners" He cooed as his lips smacked together, his voice so honeyed it was bringing you to the verge of vomit.
You wanted to reassure Astarion, let him know that you were going to do your best to free him, that you were both going to be out of there alive soon, but could you? Could you lie so much to the man you loved? Words were stuck on your tongue, making your throat drier and drier.
You guessed you zoned out for a few seconds as your head was flooded with thoughts, missing the hate Astarion was throwing at his master.
"Ah sweet Astarion, your dear Tav has given us a great idea though, it would be a shame to let it go to waste" He hummed, as the staff light up again, the lock on your cage fell down the chasm, as your trembling body was slowly being dragged out of the cage by magic.
"No, no, no, no" Astarion reprated as his eyes locked on you, falling on the long streaks of tears running down your cheeks as you tried to offer him a sad smile, your lips muttering an "it's going to be okay" while his body was about to give in to desperation, loud sobs echoed from him, as your heart broke at his sight: he was barely standing up now, his hand gripped tight as he screamed through the hall to let you go, to not hurt you, to stop. "This is just a nightmare" He fell on his knees as you were slowly dropped on the cold floor, barely keeping your head up as you realized you were still in his shirt, the one he loved on you.
"Oh dear Astarion" Cazador cooed again as he kneeled in front of you, his cold fingers getting ahold of your chin, to tilt your head towards his. "This is not a nightmare, this is real" His words were like cold daggers through your chests, you knew that whatever was going to happen, it was not going to be fun.
Before you could say anything, Cazador's hand slipped to your waist pulling on the shirt as you flinched away, disgusted by the touch of the vampire in front of you.
But he didn't care, he was swift in removing it, leaving you bare in front of dozens of eyes.
You could hear the rattling coming from Astarion's cage as he attempted to break free over and over again while his chest was about to explode.
He didn't have the right to undress you in front of everyone, he didn't have the right to touch you at all, not when he prayed every night to have the chance to see you bare, to hold you. His thoughts were swinging back and forth between desperation and deep seethed rage.
"My, my I can see why our Astarion has fallen for this little creature" Cazador's compliment almost made you retch as you stumbled back a little. "She even puts up a fight" He chuckled as he lunged forward just enough to grip at your wrist and whipping you on your feet.
Every inch of your skin was visible to everyone, from the battle scars you got through the years of adventuring, to the teeth marks on your neck, down to the stretchmarks that lived on your hips.
A shiver ran through your spine as Cazador’s fingers grazed over the two marks on your neck. “Mh, your blood seems to be sweet enough, right Astarion?” His cruel words hit Astarion through the chest. He was one word away from a breakdown as he couldn’t do anything but witness his nightmares coming alive, not his Tav, not when he would be so careful to cradle you and comfort you to his chest whenever he'd drink from you.
Whatever he was screaming was incomprehensible to you, as all you could feel was the way Cazador gripped and pushed you towards a plush chair, where he sat with legs wide open before dragging you on his lap. You felt so nauseous as he bent you towards the arm rest, making you face the cold grey floor.
You wanted to hear the taunting explanation of what he was going to do, but all the sounds were drowned by the thrumming of your chest and the desperation in your own thoughts, repeating over and over that you were going to find a way out, trying to convince your brain to shut off and dissociate as you were there, like you were just in a nightmare, and you’d be awake soon.
All you could gather was few words like “knife”, “mark”, reminder”, and then “Astarion”. He was torturing him through you, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The worst part in this, was that you were the one that gave him the idea, cause you wanted him to free Astarion, and instead he let it all out on you instead than on your Aster, as a punishment for you both. You cause you were so careless to offer yourself though you didn't know the risk, and Astarion for being reckless and disobedient. Right there, as the dagger pierced your spine, you regretted not whispering Astarion how much you loved him, while you were tight against his chest, when the world around you was asleep, and you had a corner of peace. You always knew what you felt for him, from that moment on the beach, at the shipwreck, and yet you just wanted to tell him in the right moment. But what was the right moment? You might never know, as a broken scream broke through your lips, salty tears flowing free, so much that you thought for a moment that you might have died of dehydration, if the knife wasn’t going to do it first.
He carved and carved over your back, intelligible lines and symbols as you finally understood what Astarion meant when he told you how he got his scars. How gut wrenching the pain was as he couldn’t move, and how Cazador didn't allow a break, and retraced the lines that were wobbly if he moved too much.
“You know?” Cazador asked, as everyone’s eyes were on what he thought was a work of art, your carved skin, while Astarion’s plea echoed over and over in the room. ��Our sweet Astarion used to whine just like you” He hummed. “Just a pathetic little child” He spit out like venom as you could barely breathe out few words along the lines of “you disgusting monster”, though you were not sure you actually let them out until, Cazador’s laugh filled every corner of the disgraced altar. Your tadpole writhed as another line was cut at the height of your hips, before, Cazador started retracing the lines and pulling away the skin, exposing the deepest layers of your flesh, the pain was so deep your vision blurred, and you were so close to passing out right there.
You don’t know how long you sat there, you slipped between pain and numbness as Cazador slapped you back to consciousness whenever you'd slip away, you had to endure the agonizing scarring and remember every second of it. He decorated with bloody lines almost all over your body.
You didn’t know what was worse between laying on the raw scars of your back, seeing your own skin being peeled away or the cries and sobs coming from the man you loved. You had to find a way, you couldn’t give up, you couldn’t allow this monster to walk the earth again. You had to do it for Astarion.
You were not sure when he dropped you on the floor, your body barely able to hold itself together as finally you could look around you and towards Astarion. Every face around you was stoic, like they were used to witnessing such spectacle, and they knew what was going to happen next.
You wanted to reach for Astarion, to take him away from the revolting scene in front of his eyes, you wanted to take away his pain, give him the last bit of hope you had, but when you were about to link your tadpole to his to do it, you hesitated. Connecting your minds meant he would feel how dirty, wretched and lost you felt, along with the gut wrenching pain ebbing through your body.
You could barely make out the words Cazador said as his nails dig through your skin again, even when he pulled your eyes to his you could barely read his lips as he said words you just wanted to cancel from your brain. A broken sob regurgitated from your throat as he was going to take the last thing you had. You just had to let your brain go, right? To ignore the teeth dipping in your throat and the putrid hands slithering down your skin, taking away enough blood to barely keep you alive as he took you in front of everyone.  It was no longer just physical pain, it was the way you felt your own body being stolen away and used in way no one ever dared before.
Numbness was all that was left of you after a while, of your barely beating heart while more hands crawled their way through places were you never wanted anyone to touch, then, in that moment, you realized you were free of your shackles, because you were so drained and broken that you could barely do anything. You could barely by aware of your surroundings, of how many bodies were preying on you, as you could barely manage to move inches.
Your vision was all but clear, you could make out the outline of Cazador as he was buttoning up his blouse again. Then you could see Astarion, still caged, struggling to stay sane as he wanted just to take you away from the monsters abusing of you, abusing of the fact that you were powerless in front of them. His eyes were a bloodshot, he was so hurt that he resorted to supplicate for mercy, to let you go and just kill him, whatever that could stop the agonizing pain. You didn’t have much strength left, maybe if you put all of yourself, you could muster two spells before passing out again. 
It took all you had to even raise your hand towards the lock that sealed Astarion’s crate, you mustered all your willpower to cast that knock spell, just enough to let the damn lock fall down. Astarion instantly turned to you, to your teary form still being touched by unworthy creatures, noticing how your hand barely held up, as you tried to cast one more spell, just for him, before another broken scream echoed in the room, bouncing from wall to wall till it reached Astarion's core. The kind of scream that should never be drawn by someone, nevertheless by you.
The radiant dagger materialized in his hands, and for a moment he didn’t notice it as he was fixated on the broken look on your face, encouraging him to end his master, although you suffered right there, paces away. “I love you” You mutter barely, you wanted to let him know before you could draw your last breath, then everything blurred.
Everything was muffled, you couldn’t see what was going on around you, you just felt all the presences around you disappear, while Astarion’s voice was crystal clear through the excruciating pain.
"I'll kill you, then I'll bring you back, and kill you again.” He shoved Cazador on the floor, just like he did with you, to remind him how he hurt you, how he used you, how he touched the only person he should have never laid hands on. “I’ll do it over and over again until you have suffered a tenth of what you did to her. Then I'm going to gut you one more time, and paint this shithole with your putrid blood. The halls of this place will reek with your disgusting blood, to let the whole city be aware of your death and from which the hands it came from” His hands were shaky, but he had to do it. For him, but mainly for you. All that was left of him was you, and nothing could ever be enough to vindicate you.
The shiny dagger stabbed over and over again through Cazador’s chest, while Astarion cursed him, every thrust of the dagger through the heart earned a new mocking insult, a new reminder of what he did, while all of Astarion's anger was channeled into annihilating him.
You just laid there, all you could do was listen to the grunts and the hate slipping from your lover’s lips as he dipped that dagger in the gutted body. You didn’t even realized when he dropped the disemboweled body on the marble, you weren’t even sure you could breathe, at that point.
A pair of shaking arms wrapped around your drained body, Astarion’s shirt was used again to cover your skin, as he picked you up, trying to be as delicate as possible. His salty tears fell over your body as he carried away from the nauseating scene, you frail body barely shivering, and your chest barely moving. He was muttering something to you, but everything sounded foreign at your hear.
He had to move quickly, find Shadowheart or Halsin, or anyone to heal you, to keep you alive. It was in this moment that he wished he could beg a deity to keep you alive, but he didn’t trust anyone else to tend you. He needed to rush outside of this place and get you to safety. 
He didn’t expect to see everyone outside the locked ballroom door, as they fumbled to open the door. They were taken by surprise at the sight of Astarion cradling you to his chest, all covered in blood, while his eyes were a pit of pain and tears.
Shadowheart didn’t hesitate to heal you right there before they all guided you towards the tavern you've been resting. They all offered to carry you, to make Astarion breathe a bit while on your way back there, but he refused. “I can’t..” He mumbled. “I don’t want..” His voice was just a whisper, broken. “I need” He wanted to break down again with you in his arms, but he had to lay you down first, to let you rest in a warm bed, he had to bring you to safety again, away from anyone that could pose any harm to you. He needed to see that smile again, cause no power flowing through his veins could have replaced you. He failed you once, he was not going to do it again. You saved him, twice, he had to do it just once for you. He had to thank you, and he had to tell you how much he loved you.
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catiuskaa · 10 months
Text
Yeah, Flowers Follow.
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You have always been committed to your duty at your mom's flower shop since she got hurt carrying bags of dirt over a month ago. It was mostly just you and the flowers, until he barged in one day, slapped 20 bucks on the countertop and with a passive-aggressive tone, asked: "How do I say fuck you in flower?"
because seo changbin + fluff will always have me in a chokehold. And a flower au? fuck yea, bring it on, babe.
inspired by this pin which I'll link here
edit: omg guys you loved this so much I just couldn't resist making a part two, still, this can be read as a stand-alone, although I hope you guy's like this one as much as its 'second part', which I'll link here
Word count: 5k. Binnie isn't mean, ok? He's just emo and tough-looking. And kinda introverted. fluff fluff fluff. swearing. kinda horny towards the end, but no spice added. Lol
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You wiped your sweat from your forehead, rolling your sleeves up with a huff as you took back in your hands a big old water can. You watered the lilies and small ivies that remained outside of the flower shop, quickly waddling back inside for more water.
Your mother was usually the one who took care of Lilac, the flower shop. At first, it had been her and your aunties, but it all flew away after your grandma's passing. You had been young, so much that your memories of the time were mostly made of blurry faces that were not present in your life to this day. Your mom had been okay taking care of the small flowery world she built, but an accident with a heavy bag of dirt over a month ago made you complain. She reluctantly let you handle the store until her back got better, which was coming along slowly.
After watering the plants, sweeping the floor, pruning the bonsais, and preparing the several bouquet orders you had for the day, you ran out of things to do, settling to play some jazzy music while you reviewed your class’ notes as you waited for clients.
Your evening was quite calming. Clients came in like droplets, so the shop never felt too crowded. Most of them asked for flowers for their loved ones, some even speaking about their partners, how they had met, or the dates they were excited to have.
It was cute. You had always been fond of the small flower shop and shared the interest with your mom, reason why you didn't care about taking the lead for a while or doing your homework there. You loved the way the flowers brought people together, and the stories and meanings that they had behind them.
Just as you figured out the answer to that one question you had been stuck on, the bell rang, indicating someone's presence inside. Someone that approached you in a rather passive-aggressive manner.
"How can I say 'fuck you' in flower?"
Words that you had never imagined coming out of someone's mouth —which was something, considering the wide range that your imagination could reach sometimes—.
You carefully observed the man's gestures, who didn't stop scanning the place. Years spent helping out at the flower shop had given you a kind of sixth sense, one that allowed you to easily see through people's appearances.
"Do you have anything in mind, or do you not care as long as it is full of loathing?" You inquired with a sweet smile.
Changbin found himself suddenly falling into the harmony of your eyes without realizing it. You quickly left the books on the shelf under the counter, lowered the music and turned to him. Your eyes rested on his, brown and limpid, to which he adopted a belligerent posture in response, an action that —to his surprise— did not unsettle you. He quickly shook his head, focusing on the anger that remained inside of him.
"Make it striking. Something so colourful that can even hurt to look at." You giggled.
"Intense." He held back a smile, his lips twitching. "One second."
He stared at your figure as you went to the small workshop behind the counter. The feeling that Changbin had at first had nothing to do with what he was perceiving at that time. A pleasant floral smell, mixed with mint and lavender essence filled the building. It wasn't only the exquisite aroma that captivated the man, but the beautiful colourful landscape that that small establishment hid. The white wood decoration made any bouquet or flower pot stand out as if it were the icing on a cake. The large windows allowed a large amount of light to enter, and they gave amplitude to the small place.
It was a beautiful place, but strange. Peculiar, for sure, and it was due to the chromatic order of its flowers. Sorted by colour scale, regardless of the species. The red roses were with the poppies, the tulips with the clivias and the orange jasmines. The ferns, aloe vera and fittonias were also together, despite having nothing to do with each other. The coves, cherry blossoms and hydrangeas shared a common space that at first glance, they should not have. It was a beautiful chaos, but it was still a floral hustle and bustle.
"Do you like it?" You asked sweetly when you came back.
"It's not bad." He replied vaguely. "It's..." Ravishing "...small."
From his attitude and the way he studied the place, almost as if he expected some kind of danger to appear among the pots and leaves, some would say he was not to be messed with, but to you, he looked like someone rather shy and quite sceptical, nothing to do with what he might seem as, considering that tattooed bad-guy build and the killer stare that he carried around. A thought occurred that his somewhat murderous look did not allow him to say what he really thought.
Nevertheless, you could agree with him. Not only was it a small store, but it was a disarray of varieties. Nevertheless, to Changbin, above all, feeling watched all the time was something he was used to, yet your stare felt different, making him feel more goosebumps the longer he was under your eager gaze. He couldn't help it, but when you looked at him so kindly, he felt strange.
He wanted you to stop looking at him.
"Orders arrive on Wednesdays," you mentioned, already arranged behind the counter. "Shop opens at nine, so feel free to arrive whenever. I will need more flowers for your bouquet, so until then, I'm afraid I can't have it. Either that or..."
Changbin interrupted you. He couldn't stand to have those deep-coloured eyes immersing in his own.
"Wednesday is fine." He said in a huff.
You smiled, dimples on display. "Okay! Then as long as you stop by on Wednesday, we can arrange the bouquet. I'll be here, spraying water to the chrysanthemums, alliums and hydrangeas."
Changbin felt his chest tighten, his eyes wandering around your features, your dimples, your lips. He stopped himself, took back his cash almost in a hurry, and left almost as quickly as he had arrived.
"See you then, and thanks for shopping in Lilac!"
[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]
Wednesday. The delivery truck was parked on the street facing the back of the store to unload the flowers you had ordered for the week.
To your surprise, Mystery —the nickname you had chosen for him, that sounded way better than 'fuck you flower boy'— came back precisely at nine am, and again, surprisingly enough, he wasn't alone.
He looked way more relaxed with his friend, the anger that almost shocked you looking long gone as his features didn't remain tense.
The bell rang as you were preparing the workshop for the arrival of the many flowers.
"Wow, this place is lit." His friend had good taste, judging by what you could hear.
"Thank you!" You mentioned with a cheeky smile, startling both men when you came out of nowhere. "Sorry, the truck’s outside, but I’ll be here in a minute."
You approached the delivery guy, who was opening the truck and setting the ramp so lowering the different flowers wouldn’t be too hard.
“Hey, Jerry!”
A comfortable chat took place between the two, who had met each other several times ever since your mom got hurt.
Inside, another conversation was happening. “Remind me, what are we waiting for, buddy?” Han asked as he wandered about in the colourful building.
Changbin sighed, frustrated at the reminder.
“The boss said something the other day I didn’t like. As a matter of fact, I despised it,” he grunted. “He looked at my desk and saw the bouquet I kept there, the one we got for that other show, you know?” Han hummed, paying attention. Weirdly enough, Seo’s eyes never left the backdoor you had gone through, not even when he continued. “So he mentioned how untidy my desk looked, how disgusting it would look when the flowers died, and hinted that flowers would look way better in his studio. It made me fucking angry. I don’t care if no one likes you that much to give you pretty flowers.” Han cleared his throat, allowing Changbin to return from his hating cloud. “Yeah. Uh. So we’re here to plan his bouquet.”
“Sheesh, I get that. The boss can be such an asshole sometimes.” Jisung mentioned vaguely. “But why nine am?”
Because I needed the excuse to see her. “I want to get this over with. If I’m lucky, he’ll even brag about the flowers.” He smirked, hiding his true intentions.
He suddenly heard some giggles through the door you had crossed. Han arched his brows.
“So you offered to pay for coffee and takeaway tonight for me just so I’d come with you here only to get flowers for the big man? Really?” He said, faking innocence as he settled his elbows on the counter, holding his cheeks in his hands, almost like a toddler.
He gave Han a side-eye. He shrugged. “Give me one more sign, and I might start thinking that…”
Bin covered his mouth. “Don’t. And that also goes to don’t lick it, or I’ll make sure Minho air fries you.”
Jisung lifted his hands, giving up. “I wonder what’s going on back there.” He smirked, teasing.
Changbin didn't want to flutter around you two, but he knew that putting the flowers in the store wasn’t that hard. He clenched his jaw unconsciously.
"If I had known that you were looking for an employee, I would have come running," said the boy, putting his cap back. “If you are looking for more staff, you know where I am.”
"It's very kind of you, but I never looked for anyone in the first place. Mom wouldn’t even dare to accept it,” you laughed. “Also, I wouldn't bother you knowing that you have your own trade. In addition, I get to put my skills to the test, but I can get quite moody sometimes. I bite, you know.”
He arched an eyebrow. "Don't worry about any of that. Working with you would be a thousand times better than distributing flowers throughout the city.”
Maybe it had been how you laughed or the snarky reply he had just heard, but Changbin needed that man to leave. Now.
Your eyes landed on that buff silhouette who entered the inside of the truck. Seo continued to unload the flowers. You tried to finish the conversation, but the guy wouldn’t stop talking while there was a client of yours doing your fucking job. You grew tired of Jerry, and you got up inside the trunk, willing for the man to take a hint and leave already.
Han couldn’t believe his eyes.
"Oh, please don't," Jerry went up too. "I'll take care of moving the plants.”
"Don't worry, it's the last one.” You tiredly smiled at him.
You took the remaining bouquet and got out of the truck behind Seo while the delivery guy wondered when the flowers had been unloaded. You quickly said your goodbyes before you returned to the counter.
"Thank you for lowering the flowers, it was not your job yet you did it anyways,” you smiled shyly as you started preparing the table in front of you with different sorts of labels plus the diferent tools you needed. “Sorry for the wait.”
“You’re fine. Don’t worry.”
Han stared blankly at the man who scolded him singlehandedly every day he was late to the studio just by a minute. He then stared back at you, then at his friend.
No bloody way. Holy shit.
"For your order, I found something the other day I though you might enjoy," your smile widened, your eyes like crescent moons as you handed him a small book.
“Oh.”
It was an old copy of a book that read “The Language of Flowers.”
“Maybe you could search up in the insults chapter if you see any meaning that you think could suit.”
He looked at you and quickly back to the book so he wouldn’t drift away in your eyes like days ago.
“Yeah, fine.”
Changbin was not very talkative, but the bitter tone with which he spoke was unusual. Han could tell, years of knowing the man allowed him to feel a bad mood in the way he communicated. His gaze was more frivolous than usual, and he squeezed his lips as if he didn't want to say anything. Shockingly to him, you noticed and were unable to let it go.
"Is something wrong?" You questioned softly. “Are you upset?”
Changbin hesitated. Han gave him a soft kick where he knew you wouldn’t see it.
“Yes.”
You started slowly writing in the labels before you as he, at the same pace, passed the pages.
"May I know why?"
Changbin cleared his throat. Shit, why was he so nervous?
"That guy was just talking, and that's why I had to do his job,” he grunted.
"I... I'm sorry." You looked down, sounding sincere. “If I hadn't given him a conversation, he would have started unloading the flowers.”
It wasn't true, and Changbin wasn't an idiot. That guy wouldn't have taken his eyes away from you unless he didn't have enough time to finish his shift.
But that didn't matter to him. What mattered was that your voice didn’t sound the same when you talked about this guy. It didn’t sound right.
"What type of flower is a Forget-Me-Not?" Han interrupted, looking at the book, reading past Changbin's shoulder. If he continued like that, Seo may not scold him anymore. For a short time, at least. Maybe a week.
"Oh." You recovered your kind smile, and the knot that had formed on Changbin’s chest untangled as soon as he heard your excited tone as you showed Han the small blue flowers. “They actually import them, from Mexico! Did you know?” You asked no one in particular, the two men in the shop suddenly interested in the topic as you continued to blabber about flowers.
To Changbin, only when you talked about them, your voice seemed less annoying. Even pretty, he could admit —not out loud, obviously—. But he liked it, mentally classifying your sweet tone of voice into “I-would-listen-to-it-to-fall-asleep”.
No one would notice.
[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]
“Dude. You are like, I don’t know, totally in love with her?” Han said as he took a sip from his takeaway coffee as he entered the recording studio and sat on the sofa.
In his mind, just because he hadn’t paid for it, it tasted ten times better, even though if it was the same he chose every day.
The accusation almost made Changbin spit his own drink. He stared at it, wondering if there could be something in it that could’ve explained why his face felt so hot all of a sudden.
Fuck, was it that noticeable?
“Yeah man, it is really noticeable.” Han smiled, surprised at his silent victory. “You look at her like Minho Hyung looks at his cats. It’s sickening, really.”
Changbin frowned. “I do not.” Jisung deadpanned.
“Says the man that made me third wheel in a fucking flower shop.”
“What are you guys bickering about?” Chan asked with a small smile as he got inside.
“Changbin is in love with the flower girl two blocks away.” Han teased in a sing-song voice.
“Fuck that.” Chan’s eyes grew big with emotion.
“Shit, he is.”
“Actually, Hyung,” Jisung mentioned as he handed Chan the other coffee he had bought, “I think she might like him back.”
Changbin coughed violently. The others smiled.
“Why the fuck would she?” He frowned again, his eyes not leaving his phone. “I literally met her last week and behaved like a piece of shit.”
Both Chan and Han smiled, knowing that by not refusing the allegation, Changbin was actually interested in Miss Flower Girl.
“Remember the analogy I made with Minho and his cats? Same shit goes for her. I’ve never seen anyone staring so intensely at someone’s eyes.” Han trembled, exaggerating. “Chills. Literal chills.”
Small hope was planted in Changbin’s heart, but he tried to shove it deep inside him. “Either way, after I go and get the flowers from her, whatever this is, is over. There’s no chance,” he shrugged.
Chan and Jisung shared worried looks. Despite what Changbin could show to people, he was a loving, sensible person. They both knew that if he had silently admitted the existence of a crush on this girl, it was because he meant it. And for a guy like him, who was often viewed as mean and rude or even dangerous, he usually chose to approach new people the less, so whatever was going through his mind meant a big deal.
Chan tsked. “Maybe it’s none of my business, bro, but after Hari, I’ve-.”
“Spare me the trip, Hyung,” Changbin interrupted in a low voice. “She’s been stalking me for months since I broke up with her. I really don’t want to hear it.”
Chan patted his back, a sad smile on his features as he looked at his friend.
“S’good, man. No hard feelings.”
After working on some tracks for a while, the topic was thoroughly avoided by the members, until Changbin sighed.
“Okay. You guys can stop your mind games.”
The others gave him a puzzled look.
“Whaddya mean?” The Australian wondered.
Seo let a small smile show as he passed his hands through his face.
“I really want to see her again.”
[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]
So thanks to Chris, the bell in the flower shop rang once again. You were humming a popular song, one that Changbin knew, so instead of approaching you, he wandered through the isles filled with flowers, listening to you as you continued the melody.
His heart beat like crazy when after a while, he opened and closed the door again, pretending he hadn’t been there listening to you.
“Oh, hey, Mystery.”
Your smile made his heart skip a beat. The sundress you were wearing, along with the short brown apron, made him swallow dry.
“Flower girl,” he greeted. You lifted your eyebrows.
“That’s a change of attitude. What can I do for you today?”
Do me. “I was wondering if you could deliver the flower bouquet. Is that possible?” He asked politely.
Your dimples showed when you smiled at him, looking for a notebook in the mess that your study guides made.
“College?” He wondered, staring at your eyes daringly as he pointed to your books.
“Music major, final year,” you grinned. “For your delivery, write the address here, and I’ll deliver it myself,” you played with a strand of hair, quickly moving it behind your ear.
Chanbin’s hands tickled. He wanted to do that too.
“I wouldn’t do it usually, but I figured you wouldn’t enjoy seeing Jerry again.”
He scoffed as he scribbled in the notebook. You cackled.
Suddenly, a loud noise from the workshop startled both of you, who were kind of lost in the other’s eyes.
“Girl, are you still here?” Your mother asked loudly.
You facepalmed, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Changbin, to which he quickly gestured that it was fine.
“You ok, mom?” You replied.
“I’m fine! God, you spend your days here. If it were me, I’d be outside kissing boys!”
Your face turned red in the blink of an eye. “Mom?!” Changbin held back his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand.
She never answered, just chuckled teasingly.
Changbin quickly closed the notebook and gave it to you, his cheeks suddenly almost as red as yours.
“See you soon, I guess?” He smiled, still holding back a loud cackle.
“Stop laughing.” You snickered. “But yeah. See ya… eh…”
“Changbin. Seo Changbin.” He left, smilling like an idiot.
You opened the notebook as you raised the music’s volume again, blushing furiously at your discovery.
Along with the address of what you recognised as some well-known company and the name of who the flowers where for, he had left a note below it.
In case you want to go kiss boys.
Was that… his phone number?
[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]
After closing the shop for the day, you stared at the flower bouquet as you were walking down the street, headed to where Changbin had written down. After figuring your way out with the maps app on your phone, you decided that taking your bike would be stupid, as it only was two blocks away.
The mix of colours was striking. At least, it had that. You hoped the person who would receive it would like it, meanings aside, considering you put effort into it.
The company was bigger than you expected. Before you could allow yourself to enter and look around, a security guard stopped you.
“Excuse me, miss, no one is allowed inside without a pass,” he explained.
You smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck. “I was just here to deliver this…? I wasn’t told about this restriction, my client just said that I should deliver it in person.” Yeah, that was a lie, but he didn’t know that. “Would it be ok if I went inside? It’ll be only for a minute.”
He sighed, then shrugged. “I don’t think I’m allowed to let you pass…”
“Oi, Hyung!”
A somewhat tall man —at least taller than you— approached you two.
“You’re Flower Girl, right?” He said, sounding excited, failing to hide it. “She’s with me, don’t worry.”
You entered the company with him, but after that, you stopped and turned to him.
“I appreciate the help, but who are you?”
He smiled. “Yikes. Forgot about that. My name is Chris, it’s nice to meet you. I am close friends with Changbin.”
Your eyes softened, and you smiled. “Oh, I see.” You then looked back at the notebook you carried, the one Changbin had written down in. “Do you know where could I find Park Jin Young’s office?”
Chan looked at you weirdly. “Changbin paid for flowers for the big man? Damn.”
You giggled. “It’s not what it looks like. These flowers all have different meanings, and none of those is a good one.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! For example, the orange carnations?” You pointed out one of the flowers. “Those mean ‘I hate you.’”
Chan snorted and laughed at every meaning of every flower you gave him.
“Chan!”
He turned around to face whoever had called him, seeing Changbin approaching him, looking anxious.
“Chan, she’s fucking downstairs.”
Chris’ stare turned darker. Your heart tightened in your chest.
“Stay with her. I’ll go see if I can talk to security.” Chris managed to say before he rushed downstairs.
“Bin, is everything good?”
He noticed your presence, to which he froze for a second. Time started to feel slow. His spine locked up, and his shoulders stiffened. He even felt his shirt stretch in a sudden motion.
“Flower Girl.” You could feel the sudden state of relaxation he arrived, his figure visibly less tense.
You hesitated on what to do but then chose to act by instinct. Hugging him.
He tensed up again, the sudden act taking him by surprise. You tried stepping back, feeling like you had made him awkward, but he then pulled you in a bear hug.
“Thanks, pretty.” He whispered in your ear. “I needed that.”
“S’ok.” You smiled, a fluttering feeling settling in your stomach
He stepped away, shyness all over him. You smiled at him, but something changed as he looked at someone behind you.
Before you could turn around to see what had been the issue, he got way closer than a second ago, a hand travelling to your cheek, directing your face to meet his.
“I’m going to kiss you,” Seo whispered, just before he pressed his lips against yours.
Your confused self couldn’t manage the sudden emotions that ran through your body. You felt his tongue brush your lips, and you had to make an effort not to drop the flower bouquet when you started matching his pace, feeling him smile in between the kiss.
Concentrated on the man that had a hand on your face and an arm around your waist, you were too into it that you didn’t hear a woman gasp at the end of the corridor, leaving in a rush, crying fake tears.
Don’t get Changbin wrong. Seeing the girl that had tried to manipulate and gaslight him out of his music career just so he could spend his time doing stuff for her, things she took for granted, he figured the only way of making her leave should be a harsh one.
And okaaaay, he might have been dying to kiss you for a while now.
After texting Chan that she was gone, you both eventually arrived in front of the office.
He stayed behind as you entered, approaching a somewhat 50-year-old man with clothes as striking as the bouquet you had in your hands.
“Who sends these?” He questioned, his features suddenly looking younger when he smiled.
“Seo Changbin, sir," you bowed. "Have a good day!”
You couldn’t help but snicker when you closed the door. You found the three known men standing in front of you.
“So? Did he like them?” Han inquired.
“Pfft. I made that bouquet. Of course, he loved them.” You bragged jokingly.
The three of them offered to give you a quick tour, as it wasn’t common to have the opportunity to see the JYP building from the inside. Before you realised, it started pouring outside, heavy rain that looked like it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
You cursed under your breath. If you even dared to walk under that rain, you would end up swimming your way home, your skirt and your blouse ruined.
3RACHA stood behind you, noticing that you were still at the entrance after a bit. Both Jisung and Chan ushered and pushed Seo to where you were.
“Is everything ok?” He asked, in a tone softer than what you expected.
“It’s just… ugh.” You looked at him, then tsked.
He froze when you got even closer, passing your hands above his shoulders. He had to hold back a shiver when your hands brushed his neck.
“Got no one to do this for you, I guess?” you gently fixed his collar, hands lingering on him more than they should have.
He couldn’t hold back a smile, looking at you differently, in a more intense way.
“I’ll take that as a no.” You ended the topic quickly, your eyes wandering from his eyes, then his lips, and back to his eyes again. You swallowed dry. “I can’t go back home with this rain, but my phone died, so I can't call for a cab or an Uber.”
He looked at you up and down. “Are you in a hurry?”
You stared at him, trying to match the intensity from before. “Not really. I just don’t have anything better to do. Why?”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
Neither Chan nor Han could say that Changbin was the messiest of the three, but he still was messy a generous amount. So when he got into the studio and picked up everything in less than five minutes, they gave him a look.
“Use protection, you bitch.” Jisung teased. Bin ruffled his hair.
“Fuck off," he chuckled. "See you tomorrow, guys.”
He guided you to the parking lot, and you both started driving.
Changbin’s grip on the steering wheel tightened when he noticed how your skirt rode up your knees when you sat down.
“Wait, I didn’t give you my address.” You realised, confused as to where was he going.
“I know.”
You looked around when he entered an underground parking lot, then parked and quickly got up to open your door.
He got really close, unbuckling your seat belt.
“You don’t need to be home tonight, right?” His eyes didn’t leave your lips when he asked.
“No.” You answered, almost in a whisper.
He took your hand as you got out of his car. Changbin walked with you to where the elevators were, hands still linked.
“Where are we?”
He pressed the elevator button and looked at you, even more intensely than later at the studio.
“My place.” He kept looking down at your lips. “I’ll take you home tomorrow.”
[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]
You woke up the following morning with a warm body next to you, the feeling making you snuggle closer to Changbin, passing his arm and setting it on your waist.
The sound of a notification made you groan in a low voice, reaching for your clothes and grabbing your phone from your jacket’s pocket. It was your mom.
You didn’t arrive last night. Where are you?
You smiled and replied.
I went to kiss a boy, like you said.
You went back to bed, looking fondly at the man next to you.
A buzz from your phone made you wake up from your daydreaming.
Cheeky girl. Flowers follow?
You laughed. As a florist, your mom had made up the expression one day. When saying “flowers follow”, it meant that there would be a positive outcome of whatever you had on your hands.
You knew that to your mom, in this context, 'flowers follow' meant just one thing.
Yeah, flowers follow.
Yeah. You might have fallen in love with him.
Don’t you dare come back home without that boy. I’ll cook something!
“What’s got you all smiley?” A sleepy Changbin made you giggle even more.
He, on the other side, could definitely get used to a morning like that.
You left your phone on the bedside table, and then got close to him again, tangling your legs in between his. He poked your dimples, and you chuckled.
“You, silly flower boy.”
~Kats, who has the urge to put lil’ details in every fic, like how the flower shop is named Lilac, which means ‘first love’ in flower, or how the flower that Han asks about means 'true love'.
(if you ask me, she was humming Come Inside of My Heart, bc I fucking love that song)
487 notes · View notes
strangersmunsons · 5 months
Text
read 'em and weep #3
you and Eddie spend more time together. romance blossoms.
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Chapter 3 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 2 -> Here!
Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, lowkey shy!reader, new love and giddiness all around, and a brief cameo from Steve. No mention of reader's physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Word Count: ~5.5k this took me sooo, ridiculously long to finish. work, writer's block, etc kept getting in the way! hopefully this is okay. i've spent far too much time at this point editing & second-guessing everything, i finally just had to stop overthinking & post!
You’re lying on your bed, nearly dozing when the telephone on your nightstand starts ringing shrilly.
The shock of it startles you from your half-sleep, and you blearily push yourself upright from the prone position. One hand smashes into the pages of the magazine you’d been skimming through, which slips forward on the soft bed covers.
Too comfy to really want to move, you stretch over and clumsily pick up the phone, bringing it up to your ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Eddie,” says the voice on the other end. There’s a fuzziness around the edge of his words as they crackle through the speaker.
It’s not the first time he’s rang you at this hour, but a thrill still shoots through you at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”
Eddie has quickly become a fixture in your life over the past few weeks. Your friendship continued to blossom with each visit he paid you at the library, where he gave you live updates on his reading progress, not even bothering to wait until he was finished before sharing his opinions. He was nice, and funny, and you became increasingly fond of him.
Then one day, while he was chatting your ear off about something or other, it hit you: you think Eddie’s pretty. His face is sculpted but soft, everything just looks so soft. The rounded chin and cheeks, the bulbous tip of his nose that looks like the perfect place to plant a tiny kiss…
He had kept on talking, but you could hardly hear what he was saying. Suddenly all you could focus on was the prickly warmth creeping up the back of your neck and into your ears. It was reminiscent of a feeling you’d had once or twice before around him, but this time it came in swinging. And finally, you could see it for what it really was. Oh.
“Did I wake you up? Sorry, I know it’s kinda late.”
“No, I was still up.”
You sound a bit groggy, but if Eddie notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Okay, good. How are you?”
“I’m alright. How are you?”
“I’m alright,” he echoes back wryly. “How was your day? Did you have to work?”
“Yes, I did. It was good.” You reconsider, an uncomfortable moment spent with your boss flashing back to you, and grimace. “Mostly, anyway. How was your day?”
“Listen, don’t worry about me yet, I’m trying to ask about you. Tell me about your day, why was it only mostly good?”
Eddie seems to have a knack for that; saying things that make your heart flutter in a very nonchalant way, like it’s no big deal. You’re glad this conversation is over the phone, so he can’t see the dopey look on your face.
“Well…” You bite your lip. “It’s not a big deal, but do you know the librarian at all?”
“Marissa? Unfortunately. She’s kind of a bitch.”
“Yeah, she is. And today she overheard me telling another clerk what I have planned for Story Time this weekend, and she doesn’t like it. So she got kind of nasty with me.”
“Why? Are you reading something very inappropriate?”
“I want to read them this Dr. Seuss book, Bartholomew and the Oobleck, do you remember that one? And then for the craft period, we’ll make the oobleck. It’s really easy, just cornstarch and water. But she’s saying that I shouldn’t do it because it’s going to make too much of a mess.”
“Oobleck is supposed to be a really thick slime, right? The whole point is that it gets everywhere and they can’t get rid of it?”
“Well, yeah,” you admit. “So she might actually have a point.”
“Are you kidding?” he replies brightly. “They’ll love that shit. You should do it anyway, I think that’s a sick idea.”
“Thank you.” There’s a touch of pride in your voice. You really do try your best to come up with fun and interesting things for the kids. Encouraging them to read and sparking their creativity is all you ever hope for. “I also think it’s a great opportunity to teach them all about non-Newtonian fluids.”
Eddie barks out a laugh, and it digs sharply into your ear.
“You’re funny sometimes, you know that?”
You were being serious, but if it means you’re making Eddie laugh, then you suppose you’ll take it.
He continues without waiting for an answer. “If you need help cleaning up after, I can be around for that, since I don’t work until later.”
Immediately, your brain conjures up visions of green goo splattering everywhere, getting stuck to the low tables and entrenching itself into the carpet. You can’t bring yourself to inflict that upon him. “That’s awfully sweet of you, but you absolutely do not have to do that,” you reassure him.
“I’ll be there,” he says firmly.
“No!”
“I wanna play with the oobleck. I’ll be there.”
“Fine,” you concede with a laugh. “I won’t argue with that.” There’s a warm pause, mutual affection running through the miles of telephone wire connecting the two of you. You fiddle with a small pilled spot on the bedspread. “So how’s the latest book coming along?”
“Well,” he heaves out with a great sigh, “I finally finished Left Hand of Darkness, which was really good. I can’t say I liked it better than Earthsea, but I enjoyed it. I get why you like it so much.” 
“Comes down to personal preference. I’ve never met a bigger fantasy nerd than you, so Earthsea would be tough competition.”
“For my own sake, I’m choosing to take that as a compliment. Oh, and Genly and Estraven definitely had sex when they were alone on the ice together. I don’t care if they say otherwise.”
“Oh, they totally did!” you concur with a giggle.
“They were definitely kemmering, or whatever it is you’re supposed to call it. Anyway, I’m on to Geek Love now, and frankly, I’m shocked that you recommended this to me.”
“Why? You don’t like it?” It is a little grotesque, but you thought he’d be into that.
“No, I do. But I just can’t believe that a sweet thing like you would read a book like this.”
Your cheeks flood with heat as the word bounces around your head. Sweet, sweet, sweet — he thinks I’m sweet. “I like all kinds of books,” you mumble, and mentally kick yourself for not coming up with something more flirtatious to say back. The banter came a little more easily before you realized just how much you like him.
“So I’ve gathered.”
“Just you wait. I’ll have you reading the Brontës in no time.”
He huffs in disbelief. “Right. That’s likely.” He clears his throat. “Hey, um, can I ask you something?” There’s an edge to his voice you’re not used to hearing. 
“Shoot.”
“Do you wanna come and hang out at my place this weekend? We could get food and watch a movie, like Lord of the Rings or something, if you still wanted to see it. Or we can go to the video store and pick something out. You can choose.”
So far, Eddie’s only ever come to visit you at the library. The prospect of spending time with him alone — truly alone, without coworkers and patrons lurking just around the corner — makes your heart hammer dizzyingly against your ribs. You keep your answer simple. “Yes. I would like that.”
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“Awesome.”
Wayne can hear one side of the discussion drifting through the trailer when he comes home, kicking his work boots off and leaving them by the door. Halfway across the living room he spies his nephew in the kitchen, and his eyebrows shoot up at the state of him.
Eddie’s leaning with his back against the wall, the phone held in place between his cheek and his shoulder. One ringed hand is twirling the phone cord around his finger as he speaks in a low voice, goofy grin plastered on his face.
They make eye contact across the trailer. Eddie immediately straightens up and tries to neutralize his expression.
Wayne snorts out a laugh.
“So, um, so anyway—“ Eddie fumbles with the phone “— does six o’clock work?” He turns to the side in a poor attempt to muffle the conversation. 
Wayne steps into the kitchen and tosses his jacket and lunchbox across the table. He makes a kissy-face at Eddie.
Eddie gives him the finger.
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The day Eddie is meant to see you takes forever to arrive. However, as he stares at his reflection in his dresser mirror, he starts to feel like maybe it actually came way too quickly.
He’d spent the past half-hour wildly picking through his closet, combing his hair with his fingers, trying to figure out how he should present himself as more and more clothing gets flung around the room. Eventually he gave up on his hair, and came up with an ensemble he liked, but would you like it? Would you like him?
To the untrained eye, Eddie is wearing his standard Eddie-uniform: tight black pants and a band t-shirt. On the surface, it’s a regular outfit for him. But if one is a truly acute observer, they should clearly be able to see that there are subtle variations within this basic framework he’s donning that scream “Eddie Munson is Trying to Impress a Girl!”
His ripped jeans have tears that expose swaths of skin not just on his knees, but his thighs as well (scandalous!) and he’s wearing his coolest Slayer t-shirt, the one that he ripped the sleeves off of so that his tattooed arms are on full display. And it’s just loose enough so that when he leans forward, the fabric gives way so you can catch a glimpse of his chest, with its sparse hair and winking nipple ring.
It’s all very deliberate.
But as much as Eddie doesn’t want to admit it, he’s nervous. While he becomes increasingly enamored of you, unable to keep the sly compliments and saccharine terms of endearment from slipping out, you get more shy. He still hasn’t figured out if that’s a good or bad sign.
Both of you seem to be hovering in romantic limbo, tiptoeing along the fine line between friendship and flirtation. Playful and insecure. Tender and uncertain. Was your puckish rapport a new experience, or were you like that with every person you met? Did you like it when he phoned you late at night and called you honey and sweetheart, or were you just too polite to correct him? Did you hold his name and face in your soft heart when he wasn’t right there next to you, like he did yours?
He’d chickened out at the last minute, dancing around the word ‘date.’
Eddie could be smooth on occasion, sure. But it was different when you knew you didn’t actually have a shot in hell with the person you were talking to. He didn’t have to be afraid of rejection when he already knew it was coming.
Like, he could flirt and wink at Chrissy Cunningham all he wanted and invite her to the Hideout because he knew full-well that she was never really going to show up to watch his band play — let alone dump her boyfriend to go out with him. So he could ham it up, make a fool of himself, and then shrug it all off when nothing happened.
Only a few girls had ever taken him up on his offers. And they always ended up being private affairs; nobody wanted to risk being seen out at dinner with Eddie Munson. Instead there were quick and clumsy trysts in the back of his van or in the woods behind the school, and he was reduced to a novelty notch in the bedpost, a secret for them to whisper about at slumber parties, the eponymous who of a giggly “Guess who I hooked up with!” 
It took Eddie a minute to catch on. He remembers the first time, when he hooked up with a girl at a party he was dealing at during his junior year. The next school day, he tried approaching her in the hallway as she chatted with a fellow cheerleader, and she quite literally turned on her heel and ran — but not without shooting him a look of such intense disdain that it made Eddie physically flinch. Her friend snapped her locker shut, and snickered knowingly at Eddie before following suit.
He won’t lie, that one stung. He’d stood there in mild shock at being brushed off so harshly, while other students milled about, completely oblivious to his distress; someone deliberately knocked their shoulder into his as they passed by, causing the handle of his lunchbox to slip out from his sweaty fist. It fell to the floor with a loud clang that echoed about his ears.
Eddie had already had a pretty good idea of what other people thought of him, but boy, did it really sink in that day.
It set the framework for what his love life would look like for the rest of high school. Which maybe wouldn’t have been so horrible to deal with, if only he hadn’t been in high school for two years longer than he’d expected to be.
So he leaned into it. It was really the only thing he could do, and hey, at least it meant that he could get some every now and then. What did it matter if they refused to make eye contact with him the next day? He didn’t need all that relationship mess, anyway. He didn’t care.
He didn’t care, he didn’t care, he didn’t care — if he tried to tell himself that one more time he was going to explode.
In reality Eddie’s a pretty lonely guy. But since meeting you? He’s hopeful for the first time in a long time that maybe his life doesn’t have to be that way.
Eddie raps on your front door with his fist, biting the inside of his cheek. Pizza and movies. Easy breezy. There has never been a more relaxed person than you, ever, he thinks, buzzing with nervous energy.
After a moment the door swings open. “Hi,” you greet him, stepping out onto the welcome mat, tugging at the shoulder strap of your purse. 
“Hey,” he responds with an easy smile on his lips, one that doesn’t betray his anxiety. He gives you an approving once-over and lets out a low whistle. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
And you really are. He’s never seen you in anything but your work clothes, so he appreciates this chance to see you in an outfit that’s true to your style. 
You let out an embarrassed chuckle and wave a hand at him. “Oh, please.” 
“No, I’m serious! You look very nice.”
You can hardly meet his gaze, a flustered grin forming on your own face. “Thank you. So do you.”
He shrugs modestly, but his dimples show. He gestures to where his van sits parked by the curb. “Shall we?”
The interior of the van is plush and blue and smells of tobacco and something vaguely minty. Eddie insists on running around the vehicle so he can open the passenger-side door for you, and holds out his arm for you to grasp while you climb in; an unexpected act of chivalry.
“Wow, I’m getting the full VIP treatment here, aren’t I?” you ask him jokingly as you clamber onto the seat.
“Get used to it, sweetheart. I may not look it, but I’m a gentleman of the highest caliber.”
“I’m sure you are. I’ll bet Emily Post writes to you for etiquette tips.”
Eddie turns the engine on, and music starts blaring from the speakers. He quickly turns the volume down, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I, uh, I like it loud.” He gestures to a shoebox tucked away on the floor by your feet. “There’s a bunch of other tapes in there, you can pick a different one if you like.”
You’re delighted to realize that you have an opportunity to tease him. You tilt your head up, lips pouting as though you’re deep in thought. “Okay. Let's say I pull out a different tape.”
Eddie looks at you quizzically, but plays along. “Okay. Let’s say you do.” 
“Now, hypothetically, I would do this because I want to hear something different from what’s playing currently. Right?”
“Right…”
You reach into the box and pull out the first tape you make contact with, and end up with the latest W.A.S.P. album. You cock an eyebrow at him while you hold out the tape for him to see. “So riddle me this: what are the chances that this album — or any of these albums, for that matter — sound any different from what you’re playing right now?”
Eddie attempts to stifle a laugh and fails. “Hey now,” he says, trying to sound stern, “there is something incredibly special and nuanced about every single tape in that box. I would never deign to compare Ride the Lightning to The Headless Children. Completely different. Worlds apart, in fact.”
You shrug, pleased with yourself. “If you say so. You would know better than me.”
“I’m gonna teach you how to be metal,” he promises, peering over his shoulder as he backs out onto the street.
You continue rifling around in his box of tapes. “Do you really think I could be? My job is reading picture books to preschoolers.”
“Totally. There’s nothing more metal than the public library.”
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The first stop you and Eddie make is at his favorite local pizza joint, where he insists on paying for dinner himself — he wouldn’t even let you throw a dollar in the tip jar. The shop is conveniently located in the same strip mall as the Family Video, so after putting your order in, the two of you cross the road to browse for a movie while you wait.
When you enter the store, you’re greeted by the little tinkling sound of bells and a bored ‘Welcome’ from the employee seated at the counter.
The cashier is cute — not as cute as Eddie, you think — and probably about the same age. When he finally looks up from the counter and sees the two of you together, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise before furrowing again as he makes eye contact with Eddie.
The two boys stare at each other in mutual distaste. He nods coolly at Eddie. “Munson.”
Eddie’s reply is flat. “Harrington.”
As you approach the counter, the employee’s name tag comes into view: Steve. 
Eddie strides past him and doesn’t stop, even when Steve calls out to his retreating back —
“You still haven’t brought back Spinal Tap!”
“I know,” Eddie replies, not bothering to turn around.
You follow Eddie across the store, skimming through the colorful titles. He stops abruptly in the middle of an aisle, and you bump softly into his back.
He gives you an amused smirk from over his shoulder. “Easy there.”
“Sorry,” you reply, giving him a little smile that’s all too apologetic for his liking. He can’t resist the urge to reach out and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go again.
You beam at him.
“So what are we feeling?” he asks, feeling needlessly scrambled at the brief but lingering affection. “Something scary? Funny?” He bats his eyelashes dramatically. “Romantic?” 
Your response is automatic. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”
Eddie frowns at you. “I told you, it’s your choice. I already picked out a two-hour cartoon.”
He’s being very sweet. But you want to pick something that he’ll enjoy, too.
Acting on a little tip from your new friend Steve the Cashier, you ask Eddie —
“So you like Rob Reiner movies, huh?”
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Eddie slaps The Princess Bride down on the counter in front of Steve. 
“Nice vest,” he comments.
Steve shoots him a dirty look. “Your late fees are gonna pile up.”
Eddie ignores this.
Steve sighs and begins the checkout process. Eddie can’t help noticing Steve casting you sidelong glances, his eyes flitting up and down your figure appreciatively. 
Eddie clears his throat pointedly.
“Here.” Steve pushes the film back over the counter.
Eddie grabs it and heads for the door without saying anything; you, confused and a little put off by the attitude, offer Steve your most polite “Thank you!” before scurrying out after him. 
Eddie holds the door for you when exiting, a pleasant expression on his face that’s a stark contrast from the one he wore when talking to Steve. When you’re both back outside, you can’t help but wonder what that cashier ever did to him.
“I take it you’re not a fan of Steve from Family Video?” you press.
Eddie looks sheepish. “You caught that, huh?”
“It was kind of hard to miss.”
He hesitates. “Well, we went to school together, and he wasn’t very nice. Let’s leave it at that.”
You simply nod, understanding his reluctance to say more. Reliving your high school trauma isn’t exactly something you’re interested in right now, either.
As you and Eddie head back across the street, your swinging arms cause your hands to brush against one another. After a moment’s hesitation, he clasps your hand in his, and your fingers intertwine, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.
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Eddie starts the drive home, and he feels a wave of apprehension.
He told you he lived in Forest Hills early on, and you didn’t bat an eyelash. But with you being so new in town, he wasn’t really sure that you even knew it was a trailer park.
It’s not that he’s embarrassed, exactly, or even that he thinks you’ll really mind — nothing you’ve said to him thus far indicated that his economic status would bother you — but being called trailer trash as many times as he has…well, it’s enough to make anyone defensive.
By the time he pulls up to the Munson trailer, he still hasn’t dared to look across the cab to see your reaction. “Well, here we are!” he exclaims in a hearty voice that doesn’t match what he’s feeling inside at all.
While you fumble between unbuckling your seatbelt and balancing the pizza box on your lap, Eddie darts out of the van so he can help you climb out again. When he opens the door he’s relieved to see that you don’t seem phased by your surroundings; you flash him the same happy smile you always do, and it gives him a boost of confidence.
Hopping up the porch steps, he unlocks the rickety front door and gestures for you to enter, bowing slightly. “After you, miss.”
You curtsey back. “Thank you, sir.”
Eddie pretends that that has less of an effect on him than it actually does.
Inside, he watches you peer around the trailer in interest. He’s glad that he did a deep-clean yesterday: there’s no clothes hanging over the furniture, any garbage he could find was bagged up and taken out, and he wiped down all the flat surfaces with the lemon-y spray cleaner that lives beneath the sink. He even dumped out all the ashtrays; when Wayne saw that, he commented that he must really like this girl.
“That’s a lot of mugs,” you comment, looking admiringly at the shelves that display years of Wayne’s little hobby. “I’m impressed.”
“They’re my uncle’s,” says Eddie as he kicks off his shoes. “I keep telling him he’s got a problem.”
“No, they’re great,” you insist. “Everybody collects something. Don’t you?”
Eddie pauses, hovering by the boxy television. “I guess so. Music. D and D shit.” He sets the pizza down on the coffee table. “Here, have a seat. I’ll get us some plates.” 
Eddie walks to the kitchen and starts rifling through the cabinets for some paper plates and napkins. You call out to him from your seat on the worn sofa. “Is your uncle working right now?”
“Yeah.” Eddie pads back into the living room. “He works a lot of night shifts.”
“Are all Munsons generally nocturnal?” you ask, referring to his bartending gig at The Hideout, a job that keeps him busy well into the night.
Eddie chuckles as crouches by the coffee table, pulling off two slices of greasy pizza and laying one on each plate. “I guess you could say that,” he says, handing you your share. Brown eyes find yours and he nudges your knee with his elbow playfully. “But it leaves me free to come and bother you at work during the day, doesn’t it?”
You dig the toe of your sock into the rug and look down at the food instead of him. “I wouldn’t call you a bother.”
His full lips turn up at the corners. “You wouldn’t?” He rests his hand on your leg, and his fingers swirl a gentle pattern over your skin.
You swallow. “No.” The word comes out subdued and breathy.
Eddie doesn’t move, but stays positioned by your knee, staring up at you. “Look at me again,” he says softly, leaning in a little closer.
You do as he asks and it’s almost too much. His eyes are huge and warm and they look like everything you’ve ever wanted.
A few seconds tick by, and then the phone rings and Eddie’s standing up again, whatever momentary spell the two of you were under, broken.
“Hang on,” he says, face tinged pink.
You settle back into the sofa and squirm, feeling feverish. 
Eddie wrenches the phone off the hook in annoyance. “Hello?” When the person on the other line answers, he huffs and rolls his eyes, turning away so his back is towards you. Still, you catch snippets of the exchange:
“Henderson, I said tomorrow, okay?” Eddie hisses in aggravation. “No, I don’t care if you don’t wanna do it in the morning, man. I’ve gotta work tomorrow night. You guys either come early or it’s not happening.”
You watch him curiously.
“Suck it up.” Eddie pauses to listen to the person speak again, and turns and glances at you across the trailer. Then his tone becomes noticeably gentler. “Thanks, man. I’ll let you know. See ya.”
He hangs up the phone with a sigh, and his face relaxes into a smile again.
He strolls back into the living room and claps his ringed hands together. “So! Are you ready to experience a cinematic masterpiece?”
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Some three hours later, you and Eddie are slumped back against the worn cushions, now one and half movies deep. Over the course of the night you’ve slowly closed the distance between your bodies, so his leg is pressed against yours. Eddie has one arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers dancing just above the skin of your collarbone. Both of you are stuffed to the gills, and more than a little sleepy. Even Eddie, who kept up a stream of commentary during Lord of the Rings, eager to discuss his favorite bits of Middle Earth lore with you, is tuckered out.
Shenanigans play out on the television screen. You let out a huge yawn. 
Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulder, hand digging into the meat of your bicep, pulling you closer to him. “This okay?” he murmurs.
You nod clumsily and start fidgeting, your hands twisting in your lap. 
Eddie says your name softly. You hum in acknowledgement. 
“I really like you. And I think you like me.” He cocks his head to the side. “Is that right?”
Your heart throbs.
“Yes,” you whisper.
“Okay,” he whispers back. “Can I kiss you then, sweetheart?”
You nod; Eddie leans in slowly, then presses his lips to yours for a moment before pulling back again. It’s quick, chaste and sweet, and not nearly enough. Your hands find his face, palms landing on both his cheeks so you can bring his mouth back to yours.
He’s happy to oblige. 
Eddie sighs, tongue dipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. One hand cups the back of your head, keeping you right where he wants you. The other snakes around your thigh, and he uses the leverage to abruptly pull you up and over his lap. A small “Oh!” of surprise escapes you at the jolt, but Eddie wastes no time in securing his mouth to yours again.
His kisses are wet, heady, and grow increasingly frantic as the two of you clutch at each other. Your hands weave into his hair — a longtime fantasy of yours come true at last — and he lets out a soft moan when your fingers tug gently at the tangled tresses. 
Your skin feels tingly, sensitive, alight at every little touch he gives you. Your head is full of nothing but Eddie, the way he looks and feels and smells, and the way he makes you feel, like a shaken-up pop bottle, full of pink fizz and ready to burst.
Eddie suddenly laughs against your lips, smiling into another kiss.
You pull back hastily, self-consciously. But he looks jubilant, cheeks dimpled in joy, chocolate eyes crinkled at the outer corners.
“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, “it’s just — I couldn’t tell — I wasn’t really sure where your head was at.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “You kept gettin’ quiet on me all of a sudden.”
You let your head fall forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder, and let out a tiny groan. “I know. I’m sorry, it wasn’t you.”
You lift your head back up and face him. “I’m not usually very good at this stuff,” you admit. “Connecting with people. It’s harder, when you’re introverted…and have different interests. But you were so easy to talk to when we met! And I was so excited to make a new friend, but I…,” you trail off.
“But you what?” he prompts.
“The more I looked at you the cuter I thought you were.” The words come out in a rush. “When I realized what was happening I got nervous.”
Eddie waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Oh, something’s happening?” 
You swat at him playfully.
“I’m kidding!” He rubs your shoulders soothingly. “But you don’t have to be nervous around me. I’m just some guy, y’know?”
“You, Eddie Munson, are certainly not just some guy.”
“Aw, shucks, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me blush.”
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The movie has long since ended, and a peaceful darkness settles over the trailer. The only sound is the chirp of the summer crickets outside and quiet breathing.
Eddie’s fully sprawled out over the couch with you nestled in his arms. It took some coaxing, but eventually he convinced you to lay on top of him, your warm weight better than any blanket, the sweet fragrance of your perfume soothing his senses. Your face is half-hidden in the crook of his neck, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“I have a confession to make,” he says sleepily.
“Ooh. It better be something juicy.”
“It is. Excellent gossip. You can tell all your friends, I won’t even be mad.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I scoped you out at the library,” he admits. “I came in that day specifically to talk to you. Y’know, turn on that Munson charm, and sweep you off your feet, and all that.”
“Really?” You blink, trying to jog your memory. “I don’t remember ever seeing you before that.” You think of his tousled hair and clunky jewelry. “And you’re pretty memorable.”
“Well, there’s a slight chance that I, um, ducked, and hid behind a shelf when you got close. It was the Saturday right before we met, after you did your reading.”
That recalls something for you. “Wait, wait, maybe I do remember…” It’s hazy. Pale face, brown hair? You can’t quite place this person as Eddie, but it must have been him. “I think I did see you creeping around.”
“What can I say? Your story telling enthralled me.” 
It’s the truth. He’d been browsing for a Clive Barker book when he caught sight of you in the children’s area. You read We’re Going on a Bear Hunt with an enthusiasm usually reserved for trained Shakespearean actors, and it left him undeniably impressed. 
You cuddle closer to him, burying your face in his chest. “I’m glad you decided to nut up and talked to me.”
He smiles against your hair. “Me too.”
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Early the next morning, in the hazy gray-blue dawn, the front door opens quietly — cautiously even. Wayne’s not sure what he’ll be walking into. All he knows is that his nephew really likes this girl, and that for Eddie’s sake he hopes that his date went well. He’s not sure how much more disappointment the boy can take. He wants to see him happy.
So he’s pleasantly surprised to see you and Eddie piled up on the couch like two puppies, fast asleep and — thank Christ — fully-clothed. Eddie’s arm is slung over you protectively, his soft snores just barely audible. 
Good for him.
And if they wanna sleep in the living room, that’s fine. 
Wayne’s gonna take the bed.
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thank you for reading!! <3 Read Ch. 4 -> Here! taglist: @eddiesgirlforever, @eds6ngel, @sheisahauntedhouse, @lokis-tardis-companion19, @teary-eyed-egg, @whenshelanded, @nanaminswhore, @witchwolflea
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bjtch-craft · 4 months
Text
"I'm a Rockstar Babe"
Todd Ingram X Bottom Male! Reader
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☆ Summary: [Name] reunites with an old high-school friend turned rockstar things take a turn when they restart their old high-school ways.
☆ NSFW
☆Request: Yes or No
☆ Word count: 2,836
☆Genre: Angst to Smut (Kinda)
☆Warnings: Smut, degradation, manipulation (kinda, tbh I just tried making him cocky but rereading it it sounds like bro is manipulating), Bl♡wjobs, slapping, just douchy rockstar things, spitting (he's one of those ppl)
☆Authors note: Dude, I rewatched the movie and reread the novels, and why is Todd so mf fine like WHAT? And why are there no stories about this man? Anyways enjoy!! (P.s this has been in my drafts for like 2 months now and I've never finished editing it for some reason...)
Also look at the comic version of him like WHAT A CUTIE like yeah sure he's arrogant, narcissistic, uncaring, and may or may not be a pathological liar, and a walking red flag but like that red looking a little orange so??? PRAYING SOME OF YALL READ THIS!!
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Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.
10:15 P.M. - some time earlier
[Name] was shoved and pushed around by the hundreds of thousands of fans who had gathered to watch the band play. The band in question was none other than The Clash at Demonhead. [Name] new one of the members (while technically two if you count Envy but they didn’t know each other. They were more of acquaintances really.) Todd Ingram who he was close friends with. Really close.
He'd given him head a couple of times (and slept with him too) but that didn't mean anything to them (yes it did.) it was what Todd considered a "bro-job" whatever the fuck that was. But that's not important (yes it is) what is important is how quickly their friendship ended after he got with Envy. They tried to keep in touch but after the band blew the absolute fuck up he cut ties with him.
Did it hurt? Yes. A lot. But [Name] didn't let it get to him he still supported Todd even if Todd himself didn't know it. [Name] bought every CD, vinyl, and cassette tape, and got tickets to most shows. He even tried to get backstage passes to rekindle his relationship with Todd but the prices were far out of his price range.
There have been times when for a quick second he'd seen Todd after a show or two and waved to him or said a quick word but he didn't recognize him. Which also hurt. How can you not recognize someone you spent almost TEN YEARS of your life with? But [Name] was determined to catch up with his best friend so after pulling a couple of night shifts and saving up some money he... still didn’t have enough.
10: 50 P.M.
"Todd's so hot!"
"Jesus Envys even hotter in person!"
"Why's that chick got a robotic arm?"
These are just some of the things [Name] heard throughout the event which was on the verge of ending.
12:10 A.M. - Later
The concert was over and [Name] pushed and shoved his way out of the venue and quickly rushed towards the back of the building looking for the band.
"Come on please don't tell me I missed them!"
His shoes thudded against the gravel, and as he rounded the corner a gate came into view.
"No. No, no, no, no!"
The gate door was slid open. How safe right?
"Envy? Do you wanna get a bite to eat or something?"
[Name] stopped for a moment as he saw Todd standing there his guitar case in hand talking to Envy. He took a deep breath and stepped through the gates. Fuck?
"T-todd?"
Todd turned to look at him a look of shock and anger upon his face.
"Who the hell let you in" Todd asked as he stepped closer to [Name] his voice coming off as aggressive as his eyes and hair started to glow.
"N-no one the gate was open."
"So you just snuck in?"
"I'm [Name], [First name], [Last name] we went to high school together. Remember?"
Todd's eyes and hair stopped glowing as his hair drifted back down in front of his face.
"You're kidding?!"
Todd dropped his guitar case and ran up to [Name] his tough guy rockstar persona shedding completely. He threw his arms around [Name] and pulled him into his chest. [Name] could feel the heat rising to two places as his face was smushed into Todd's rather large pecs.
"Todd you're squishing me..." [Name] said his voice muffled.
"Sorry!" He pulled away. "Jesus it's been a long time since we've seen each other... I'm a Rockstar!"
"I can see that!"
"Todd, what the fuck is going on," Envy asked?
Todd turned to look at them wrapping his arm around [Name's] waist. "This is [Name] from high school! He's my best friend remember?"
"While to me he looks like a fucking groupie! Let's go" Envy replied.
"I'm not a groupie..."
"Do you think he can come back to the motel with us?"
"No."
"Find some other cheap motel to fuck in," The Bionic arm bitch said.
"He's not a groupie and we're not gonna fuck! He's my friend and I wanna catch up with him!"
"Find. Another. Motel." Envy said the tone of her voice showed her annoyance more than anything.
12:30 A.M.
And they did find a cheap motel in an extremely unsafe part of town. Fits the stereotype, huh? A rockstar takes one of his fans to a cheap rundown-looking motel just to get it in.
[Name] once again was hugging Todd but this time was looking up at him.
"I'm so sorry for ghosting you [Name]."
"It's fine."
Todd's hands traveled down [Name's] back and reached his ass and groped it firmly, making [Name] let out an involuntary yelp. He pushed Todd off of him, causing the blonde boy to let out a laugh.
"What's the matter [Name] just like old times!"
"Todd aren't you dating Envy or something?"
He shifted his weight on his feet annoyingly.
"I'm a Rockstar babe we don't date," Todd said cockily.
"Oh?"
"I'm gonna hop in the shower. I know I reek of sweat... care to join me?"
"Smooth Todd.... real smooth."
He winked at [Name] and waltzed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. After a minute or two he heard the shower go on.
Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.
"Do I wanna do this... again?"
The first time [Name] and Todd ever did anything together was on his eighteenth birthday. They were both unbelievably drunk, and both were bored lying on Todd's bed in silence. One of them now and then would say something, and they would have a short conversation.
"H-heyyy~ [Name] can I ask you for a favor," Todd asked his words coming out slurred.
"Yeah- hic! What'sss ~'s up?"
"Do you think you could um... s-suck me off?"
"Why?"
"Well, I'm one drunk! And two horny as fuck~! So can you?"
"You know what fuck it! You are my best friend!"
[Name] slid his basketball shorts off and then his boxers and grabbed at his length.
"I've never done this before so um... bear with me~."
Todd nodded his head a goofy grin on his face. "Do it as if someone's doing yours."
[Name] took him into his mouth slowly going down inch by inch the girth was almost too much to handle. Almost.
But that was years ago. They were two dumb eighteen-year-olds who were just helping each other out. But [Name] didn't feel that way anymore... but reminiscing on their old days made [Name] slowly begin to get hard in the shorts Todd had given him.
[Name] rubbed himself through the fabric and pushed down on it, making him release a soft moan. He needed Todd he didn't realize how badly he did until right then and there. The door opened to the bathroom, and [Name] quickly through the blanket over his lap.
Todd walked out with just a towel around his waist, his bulge catching [Names] eye as well as his body, which was still wet and glistened in the light.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting another pair of boxers, I forgot to bring them into the shower..." Todd looked at [Name] and noticed the tent that was forming underneath the blanket. "Aw, are you happy to see me like this again, baby?"
"What! No!"
"Come on..." He said huskily. The cockiness was back. "I heard you moan... were you thinking of the times I fucked you? The times you begged me to fill you up? The times I came on that pretty face of yours?"
[Name] could feel his cock growing harder with each question.
"N-no" [Name] whimpered out.
Todd walked to the side of the bed grabbed [Name's] hand and placed it on his groin.
"You miss my fat cock don't you," He asked his voice sounding oddly humiliating.
"I don't have to say anything."
Todd started to move his hips grinding his bulge against the palm of [Names] hand.
"Todd we can't... you have a girlfriend."
"I told you we rockstars don't really - truly date, and if anything, it's just another bro-job, remember?"
[Name] pulled his hand away and sat up and using both hands opened Todd's towel up causing his cock to pop out and slap against his happy trail.
"Fuck~," [Name] whispered out.
[Name] reached out and pumped his cock twice.
"Yeah that's it~ I know you fucking missed it haven't you?"
[Name] let go of Todd's cock and adjusted his position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Todd backed up a little.
"Please don't like- hurt me that much. Please?"
Todd chuckled and ran his hand through his wet hair.
"You sweet dumb thing, you know I can't promise that."
[Name] grabbed Todd's cock once more and spat on it and stroked him off spreading the saliva over his cock.
"I haven't done this in a long time... so I'm a little rusty."
Todd smiled down at him. The grin was a mixture of amusement and humiliation.
[Name] placed the tip on his tongue and licked it gently before wrapping his lips around it and slowly going down on it.
[Name] couldn't lie he truly did miss this. Not only did he enjoy it, but it honestly made them closer as friends.
[Name] gagged on the base as he looked up at Todd with tearful eyes.
"Aww you look so cute with my big cock in your mouth," Todd said softly his voice coated in lust as he gently patted [Name's] cheek.
[Name] began to slowly come off his cock before Todd placed a hand on the back of his skull and slammed him back down causing him to gag and for drool to pour out of the sides of his mouth.
"Mmm-hmm-agh." [Name] groaned out.
Todd pulled his cock out of the boy's mouth and slapped it on either side of the guy's cheek.
"You took it so well [Name]~."
[Name] looked up at Todd with innocent eyes, his tongue sticking out a little as he gasped for air.
"Jesus you look so fucking gorgeous."
"I-I think you bruised the back of my throat!"
Todd grabs [Names] chin as he angles his head straight aligning his cock with [Names] lips.
Todd spat on his cock (and on [Names] face) and slammed it down [Names] throat before pulling out. [Name] stuck out his tongue and licked a stripe down his cock.
"You're such a fucking slut baby. I bet you've been craving my cock since you heard about our band haven't you?"
[Name] nodded his head embarrassingly. Todd placed a hand on the back of [Names] head and leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips as his hands traveled down his body. His hands reached the bottom of the boy's shirt and began to pull it up over his head, breaking the kiss in the process.
Todd pushes [Name] down onto the bed by his chest and crawls on top of him, attacking his neck, causing [name] to let out a soft moan. Todd kisses down his neck while unbuckling [Names] belt and gently pulls them off along with his boxers.
"I don't reckon you have a condom do you?"
"I have one in my wallet in my left pocket," [Name] says, his voice barely above a whisper.
Todd grabs [Names] jeans off the floor and pulls out the condom from the wallet before discarding them back onto the floor.
Todd rips the wrapping of the condom off with his teeth and slides the rubber on. He places [Bames] legs on his shoulders and lines himself up at his entrance.
[Name] squeezes his eyes shut as Todd pushes himself into him. A sudden wave of pain and pleasure washes over him, causing him to grab onto the sheets, twisting them in his hands. A soft whimper escapes his lips as Todd continues to push deeper into him.
"Shit- Todd, you're so fucking- ngh~ big!" [Name] whimpered out, causing Todd to look down at him with a cocky grin.
Todd had pushed himself into the other boy and slowly began to pull back out, only to slam back into him, which earned him a low groan.
"Does that feel good?"
[Name] nodded his head and let out a whimper. Todd began to rock his hips in and out of him, the tip occasionally brushing against his prostate. His thirst got faster and quicker he reached down and grabbed [Name's] hands and placed them above his head.
Todd began pounding into [Name]. The sound of skin against skin filled the room as well as screams of pleasure from both boys.
"Ugh~ F-fuck! You're going to har-!" [Name] wasn't able to finish his sentence as Todd delivered a gentle (but still hard) slap across his face.
"Don't tell me what the fuck to do!" Todd growled out.
[Names] cock twitched as pre-cum drizzled down his cock causing a moan to escape from his lips.
"Don't tell me you're into this shit you slut?"
"S-s-shut up Todd~"
Todd smirked and began rocking his hips.
"How bad do you want it?"
"W-what?" [Name] stuttered.
"I can pull out right now and leave and not let you finish you."
"Please don't~ I'll do anything!"
"Then admit it.'
"What?"
"Admit you're a filthy whore" Todd said his voice thick with lust.
"I'm not going to- ah~!"
Todd pulled out of [Name] leaving him feeling empty and somehow even more fucking desperate.
"Todd please" [Name] begged.
"Then say it."
"I-I’m a whore okay? Is that what you want to hear from me? I'm a fucking slut for you okay?!"
Todd looked down at [Name] with a cocky grin.
"Good boy."
Todd leaned back over [Name] and placed a soft kiss on his lips before pushing himself back into him. He wrapped his hand around [Name's] throat and began pounding into him. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room once again.
Todd raised his hand and brought it across [Names] face with enough power to cause a sting of pain leading [Name] to let out a dry moan.
"I can't believe your into this shit!" Todd said with a cheesy grin.
"Shut up!" The boy underneath him whined out.
Todd smirked and removed his hand from [Names] neck and grabbed him by the waist and slowed his thrusts.
"What are you- agh~!"
Todd pulled [Name] into him driving his cock deeper into him pushing past his prostate. [Names] jaw dropped as the sudden feeling causing a high pitched moan to erupt from his throat. Todd took this opportunity and grabbed his jaw holding it open and dipped his thumb into his mouth.
"Don't close your mouth got that?"
[Name] replied with a whimper as Todd's thurst became annoyingly slow as a string of spit slowly began to fall from his lips and landed in [Names] mouth.
[Named] closed his mouth after Todd gave him a look that practically yelled at him, too. Todd's slow thrust became faster and faster. Todd wrapped his hand around [Name's] dick and began jerking him off as [Name] placed his palm at the back of Todd's head.
"I'm so close!" Todd groaned out as his rhythm began to go out of sync.
His movements became harder and harder as he felt himself getting closer and closer to finishing.
"W-where- fuck~ where do you want it?" He moaned out.
"On me..."
Todd placed a hand behind [Names] head as his thurst became sloppy he spat once again at [Name] the salvia covering his face before pulling out and jerking himself off.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
With one final moan ropes of cum erupted from his cock covering [Names] body in white ropes. Todd pumped [Name's] cock for a minute before he came their cum mixing on his stomach. Todd scooped up some of his cum off of the boy's body with his index finger and popped it into [Names] mouth.
"How's it taste?"
"Salty... can you get me a towel?"
1:35 AM
[Name] lay on the cheap hotel's mattress, his head on Todd's chest, listening to his heartbeat.
"Hey, have you ever thought of being a roadie?'
"A what?"
"A roadie helps the band set up... you could be one for us so we could keep in touch and..." He wrapped his hand around [Names] body and groped his ass "Have some more time to ourselves."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THIS MAN IS SO FINE ARGH. I NEED HIM SO BAD LIKE I WANT HIM TO FULLY REARRANGE MY INSIDES.
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Authors note!!
Again, sorry for the break. School is still once again kicking my ass :) I do plan on writing more over Christmas break, but I do have like half-written stories in my drafts, so here are some of them. (Some of them have titles, but they are to be determined, so kill me or wtv) .
Darry Jenner x Male reader (Fluff)
Miguel Ohara x Male reader (Smut)
Chad Meeks x Male reader (TBD)
Simon Kalivoda x Male reader (Fluff)
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satorubi · 1 year
Text
𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄 — FT. GOJO SATORU
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SYNOPSIS ⋮ you give gojo a very special gift for his birthday.
— CW ⋮ f! reader, dom! gojo, established relationship au, cum tasting, breeding, blowjob, tittyfucking, doggystyle, usage of profanity, usage of pet names such as love/slut/pretty girl
— NOTES ⋮ i posted this a while ago but tumblr removed it so here i am reposting. some things have been revised and edited. anyway, happy early bday to the one and only satoru <333
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the faint sound of pnd’s her way echoed off of the walls as gojo stepped foot into your high-rise apartment. he could place together a smell of his favorite dishes, an incent you always burned, and the delicious chanel fragrance he loved to breathe in when embracing you.
“baby? you here?” he calls out, growing a bit anxious when he hears no response.
setting his keys on the counter, he wandered into your bedroom. to his surprise, he found his pretty girlfriend dressed in nothing but a thin piece of laced lingerie. it was white— his favorite color on you, with your hair curled just how he liked it and body oil covering your shape; making it glisten.
“like what you see?” you question, an innocent gaze in you as eyes as you peered up at his lengthy stance. he could barely utter out a sentence, you looked almost edible.
“all this for me?” he asks, cupping your cheek with his hand and pressing his lips onto yours. before he could get too excited, you placed your hands on his chest to shun him away.
“not so fast, birthday boy. we have pasta to eat. i spent a good amount of time on it too,” you comment. gojo’s tongue runs across the bottom of his lip before placing another kiss onto your lips.
“ah, i kinda got a taste for somethin’ else. somethin’ soft, and wet,” he says in between pecks. you giggle, not dismissing his serious facial expression. don’t get him wrong, he adored your cooking. he would’ve much rather had your homemade dishes than the nasty bar food he had earlier with his friends, but you just looked too fucking good.
“no. i want you to eat before it’s cold—“
“and i’m gonna’ eat it,” he cuts off, “i just want a little appetizer first.”
gojo’s lips meet yours again, only this time, more slowly than the last. it felt like he was sucking at your lips rather than kissing them. you could taste the cool mint flavor on his tongue, the gum he had in his mouth still being there as he tongued you down.
you sat up from your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck, nails scratching at his fresh undercut. the smacking of both your lips only grew louder as the heated make out session continued. you moaned and he groaned, a hand coming down to palm your ass cheek. he juggled the flesh in his hands before pulling his lips from yours to catch a breath.
“what do you say, baby? gonna’ let me get a taste? i know you want one too.”
and of course, you whisper “yes,” causing a smile to form on his lips. he kissed you once more before sending a smack to your ass, your mind already knowing what he wants. with your stomach meeting the silk sheets, your ass perked high into the air, waiting for him to make any type of move.
“god, it’s so fuckin’pretty,” he breaths, undoing the drawstring of his grey sweatpants. you could hear his heavy cock spring out and make a thud against his stomach. you began to whine and wiggle your ass, trying to get him to put it in already, but he wanted to take his time with you tonight.
his slender fingers eventually found their way to your hole, letting him curl and jolt in and out of you steadily. “this pussy’s so we. ready for me aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“g-gojo that feels s’good,” you whimper, extending your arms out in front of your to grip at the mattress. his fingers continue to feel the insides of your sopping cunt, a smirk growing on his lips as he watched you begin to fuck his fingers. your whimpers had him twitching— literally. the pretty cock attached to his shaft began to jump a bit at the sight of you.
“i can’t wait to taste you,” he mumbles under his breath, loud enough for you to hear making you clamp around his fingers. “can’t wait to fill you full.”
“wanna’ taste you too gojo.”
he chuckles, “yeah? such a slut f’ me. how bout’ i fuck that pretty face of yours?”
you'd practically nodded before he could finish his sentence, smiling as you climbed out of bed and onto your knees. your hands sat on your lap as you waited for the green light from him, as giddy as ever.
“someone’s excited, like suckin’ my dick that much?”
you laugh, taking his big cock in your small hand and placing it directly on top of your face—his length almost reaching the top of your forehead, “only yours.”
gojo grins, flexing his lower abdomen to make his cock thump and move against your face causing you to smile blissfully. within a blink of an eye, your tongue licked a long stripe from his base to his tip making him give you a small, ‘shit’ under his breath. his white tank top has now risen just above his tummy, gojo holding on to the fabric with his teeth.
it was a heavenly view for the both of you.
the sounds of your sucking made his cock dance in your mouth, the twitching making you laugh around him, “feels good, hm? don’t squirm so much,” you joke, latching your mouth back onto him swiftly. the scene of you bobbing your head left him speechless.
“i can’t help it, baby. you do this shit so well— do the little thing you do— yeah, yes, yes,” he mumbles as you swallow him whole. the tip of him hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag. as you pulled away, a trail of saliva followed behind you. and you slurped it right back up, now suckling on his tip as if it were candy.
“you’re a fuckin’ gem,” he praised, “love watchin’ you be such a slut, sweetheart. you look so pretty doin’ this to me.”
you pulled your mouth away with a pop and batted your lashes, “yeah? gonna cum for me, satoru?” using both hands to stroke him, you maintained eye contact while muttering praises of encouragement.
“wait, wait, wait, baby. i wanna’ try somethin’,” he hisses, pulling back from your hold. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sudden stop, “scoot back against the wall and take your bra off.”
despite the many questions that popped into your head, you obliged— doing exactly as he told. you still had drool all over your lips from earlier, but you were ready for more— you were going to get exactly that, too.
without wasting any more time, gojo guided your hands to your breasts, mumbling a simple “hold em’ like this,” as he pushed them together. at first, you sat there still dazed, but then he began to stick his cock in between the two, thrusting upwards slowly.
he was titty fucking you.
it was something he’d always thought about but never acted on. it wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea, but it never came up in conversation. seeing how aroused he’d gotten from the gesture makes you think you should’ve done it a long time ago.
“god-fuckin’-damn,” he groans, throwing his head back in pure delight. his hands moved to cup your face as his cock slid between your tits, the already oily skin making it easier for him to pick up speed. “could do this all day—fuck.”
by the look on his face, gojo could feel his tummy boiling over with pleasure like a pot on a stove. you knew he hated cumming before you, claiming it was ‘embarrassing’ but he couldn’t exactly help it. his lips were slightly parted and small suppressed whimpers threatened to escape mouth, completely in awe. he was trying to hold off but everything felt entirely too good.
“ohh—fuck! i’m cumming, baby— aah,” he moaned, a little bit louder than he intended to. spurts of white painted your chest like a canvas as you watched your boyfriend stare down at you with a smile on his face.
you gently let go of your tits, releasing gojo’s aching cock. out of curiosity, your two fingers slowly scoop some of his dripping ecstasy from your chest and into your mouth, sucking on your fingers to get a quick taste. “mmh, made me all messy, satoru,” you giggle.
he kisses you gently, not really giving a fuck and tasting himself on your lips. after all, it was his mess and he liked to clean up after himself. “i’m bout’ to do it again, get on the bed. spread those legs too, wanna’ see my pretty pussy,”
his pretty pussy— the words making you all the more damp as you climb onto the mattress, ass up face down position of course; gojo’s favorite. the white thong that hid between your cheeks was now pulled to the side to reveal your glistening cunt, leaving gojo’s dick hurting from the throb.
“hold it open. i wanna’ get a closer look,” he instructed. your pretty nails helped spread your ass open, two pretty holes staring back at him, “fuckin’ masterpiece.”
cheeks growing warm, you whine, “put it in gojo— fuck.”
a small swat to your right cheek shut you up rather quickly, “don’t be like that. it’s my birthday, lemme’ admire my cake,” he teased, the pun only making you whip around and glare at him.
gojo spat on your pussy and his dick while holding his large cock in his hands after what felt like an eternity of torture. his tip brushed against your opening as he cautiously slipped inside you. it felt like he was tapping on your barricade, asking to be let in. he was so wide, but you handled the stretch like an expert.
“open up for me.”
“ouuu-gojo! slower baby, y-you’re too big,” you whine, earning a deep chuckle from him as he gently stroked your pussy. the creamy sounds of him sliding in and out of you made your eyes travel to the back of your head as you whispered his name.
“c’mon sweet thing, you got it.”
the rasp in his voice had your heart fluttering— your pussy too; hips beginning to move, pussy gliding along his cock. gojo softly began to match your pace. his cock was being pulled in and out of you and you loved every second of it, “i-it feels good toru,” you whine, “so, so fucking good, baby.”
your compliments were like a green light, and gojo’s hips began to accelerate as your ass made a thunderous clap with each thrust. the heat of your cunt around him caused you to hear sounds from gojo that you had never heard before. he was completely engrossed in the paradise in front of him.
to gojo satoru, this was heaven and you were indeed an angel.
he’d realized how thankful he was to have someone like you. someone so sweet and attentive and observant— everything he’d ever wanted. fuck all of the presents and the material things. seeing you like this was one of the best gifts he could’ve ever received.
“eughh—toruu! r-right there,” you plead. he was so gravitated toward you— your ass jiggling with everyone meeting to his pelvis, the pretty cries you let out, the gushing sound of your cunt fucking him back mercilessly— satoru fucking adored you.
“right here?” he asks, pushing down on your lower back as he fucked you into the mattress, “gonna’ fuck a baby into this pretty lil’ cunt, you’d like that wouldn’t you pretty girl?”
“t-toruuu—feel like m’ gonna- like m’ gonna’ c-cum,” you whisper. you tensed as his hand reached around you and under your pudge, lifting your hips to fix your broken arch. he then wrapped both hands around your neck, bullying his cock into from behind while using your throat for balance.
“yeah? gonna’ cum on me like a good girl?” his erotic words didn’t fail to make your body shudder as small droplets of your euphoria shot from your hole; juices covering both gojo’s cock and lower belly as he continued to hit it from behind.
you could barely utter a word due to his grip on your neck— but you loved it all. the moan you could let out sounded more like a grunt as your eyes crossed in a daze.
“aah— knew you could do it, pretty girl, always take me so well. l-love you s’much, gonna’ cum. where do you want—fuck— want it baby?” he asks, only seconds away from his orgasm.
“in, in, in! mmm—cum in me!”
swiftly, gojo pulled you against him, your back coming into contact with his chest as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. as he placed tiny kisses on your neck and shoulder, gojo grazed his tip against that perfect spot about twice more before completely letting himself go. his warmth spilled into you, filling you full as he tried not to be so loud. although you couldn’t look into his eyes at that exact moment, gojo made it as intimate as ever.
“god, you’re perfect, so perfect—y/n, fuck!”
the two of you stayed in that position for bit until gojo came down from his pleasure rush. the grip your cunt had on his cock was still so tight as he slowly pulled out of you, mind dizzy from the intensity of his climax. you laid limp on the mattress as gojo took comfort directly next to you, pulling your now sore body into his chest.
“thank you,” he mumbles, taking in the way your pretty doe eyes look at him with nothing but admiration.
“for what?”
“for being the best gift i could ever ask for.”
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SUUNMIC 2022 — ©️ all rights reserved to @suunmic . please refrain from copying as your own.
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loupy-mongoose · 6 months
Text
Warning: This part contains discussion of Pokemon abuse and neglect, as well as the general topic of death.
Edit: I didn't realize when I posted that this part is kinda long, so I'mma slap a Read More on it.
PREVIOUS NEXT
ARC START | CHRONO
Lavender stared in shock at the man who'd approached her.
It was him.
The man she'd seen in the articles online.
The man she'd seen in Nico's dream vision.
Fuji...
The man tilted his head a bit. Ah, so you've heard of me. I'm guessing you've read about the orphanage online?
I, uh...
Lav had no idea how she would begin speaking to him, let alone broach the subject that drove her to this moment.
I... I...
She hugged herself, shivering. Her mind and emotions were spent.
Fuji's concerned look grew deeper. Easy, there. Easy. What's troubling you? Maybe we can work it out.
She could feel his genuine concern for her wash off of him, and her own loneliness and regret crashed over her. She asked him in a timid, shaky voice, can I have a hug?
His eyebrow rose, but he smiled warmly at her. Of course! If it'll help!
She charged into his arms almost before he could open them wide enough. Oh how she missed this feeling of being safe in a pair of arms...
So what's got you so upset? Or is it something too personal to tell a stranger like myself?
Uh...
His voice lowered to just above a whisper. Your family isn't mistreating you, are they? I can help get you out if they are.
At that Lav pushed away from him, waving her arms. No no no no, nothing like that! I-I'm sad because I left them... And I wish I hadn't... I came here looking for someone, but... She wiped her eyes for the hundredth time since she'd taken off. It was a rash decision and I wish I could go back...
I can help with that too. Fuji smiled again. Where do they live? I'll do what I can to get you back to them!
Lav gripped at her elbows, biting her lower lip. Should I tell him? How much would it give away...?
How much will I need to give away...?
She took a quiet breath and answered. Paldea.
Paldea... He became thoughtful. That's a long ways away from here... You came here on your own?
Lav nodded, rocking slightly back and forth. All the warnings she'd heard from her parents flashed through her mind, almost making her feel sick again.
Finally she gripped her jacket sleeves and took a deep breath. Listen, Mr. Fuji, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. But... not in the open.
The gentle man lowered his brows questioningly.
I-I know that sounds weird... But... C-can we go to your house? And talk in private?
Fuji's face creased in confusion, but he shrugged. Alright. I'm all ears. Maybe I can offer you a drink to calm your nerves? Coffee, tea, hot coco?
Lav smiled widely at the sound of that. Ooo, yes please! Hot chocolate! Please!
Fuji chuckled as he turned to go and motioned for her to follow. A sweet tooth, huh? No problem!
Hey, I never got your name.
She gave a shy laugh, well recognizing how this might sound to him. It's, uh... Lavender, actually. Lavender Linden.
Hah!! Oh dear, it might be a little hard for my old brain to remember that one. His voice oozed with joyful sarcasm, and Lav felt herself warming up to him.
You can call me Lav if it's too much for you~
Lav. That sounds lovely. He chuckled softly. It's nice to meet you, Lav.
Lav smiled, finally feeling a sense of comfort for the first time since leaving home.
It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Fuji.
The pink Mew carefully peered down into the cliffs surrounding the purple-hued town. It was too far away to make out distinct people. But where his eyes failed him, his senses gave him hope.
I feel her.
He looked at Akoya. They're eyes passed the message without use of words or mind. They flew down to discuss with Persim what the next step would be.
Oooooh, look at themmm!!
Lav looked into a pen containing several little land-dwelling Pokemon. Ratattas, Growlithes, Nidorans, and Mankeys, and others mingled together. Some were missing eyes and limbs.
So you take in orphaned Pokemon and take care of them?
Fuji smiled softly, but with a sad gleam in his eyes. Orphans, injured, sick... Trainers will often bring in Pokemon, either their own or ones that they've found in their travels. It's sad when they're mistreated, but I like to think we offer a little bit of hope and comfort for those in need.
Lav watched a few Ratattas running together, including a dark colored one that had a set of wheels attached to its back legs. She pointed to it. What happened to the Alolan one there?
A Karate Chop went too far. HP shields will only protect so much. Fuji sighed. Her trainer pushed her to fight beyond her limits--against a Machop, no less--and she paid the price. And of course her trainer left her for dead because she couldn't fight anymore.
A lot of the Pokemon in our care have similar stories. I swear, trainers who don't bother learning type matchups drive me up a wall! Just because they're protected from elemental attacks doesn't mean the protection lasts or is perfect every time! And when the shields fail, it can fail spectacularly.
Lav thought about her dad's journey as a trainer through Sinnoh, as well as her own dream of doing her own journey. She had to venture a question. D... Do you feel that way about all trainers?
Absolutely not. There are plenty of good trainers out there, and I adore them. I want to support those ones however I can! And of course trainers will make mistakes. Sometimes mistakes that will cost a life, unfortunately... As long as there are Pokemon trainers, that will continue to happen. But that alone doesn't make one a bad trainer.
And the sad thing is, it's those trainers who suffer most from their mistakes. The ones who throw away the dead or injured, they move on to the next victim with nary a backward glance. But when a loving trainer loses...
He sighed again, leaning on the fence. It's heartbreaking, really. All the trainers who feel like they failed because of their losses, when in reality those are the best of the best. They don't realize that in taking a path of love, they've taken the hard path. Grief is the price we pay for love, after all, and sometimes in can bankrupt trainers...
Suddenly he leaned back. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get sad on you! I see both ends of it, so I have trouble keeping them apart sometimes. I hope you can forgive my morbid rambling...
Of course. Lav smiled morosely. ...I can tell you pay that price a lot...
Fuji met her eyes with warmth. Yeah... Yeah. It's not always an easy job... But it is my greatest love. And grief is a price I'm willing to pay for it.
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PREVIOUS NEXT
ARC START | CHRONO
This makes me want to do a Nuzlocke. XD
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coral-melon · 5 months
Note
Heya!! CM! (Get it your user!)
Its 🍓 again :3
Would you be able to write imagine/hc thingys how they would react to seeing your human form for the first time when you go to the human world with them! Im thinking along the flustered fluff/ possibility suggestive thoughts about mc =^=
Any of the brothers/dateables u want! But if your looking for specific just mammon & levi as personal preference :3
(AFAB preferred but No description of gender js cool too :3 )
Aghhh sorry this is worded so weird I’m not the best leaving suggestions i feel too askyy ;^;
Your writing is lovely and i can’t wait to see more!!
- 🍓
Hello again -🍓! Love the ‘CM’ nickname! And by all means, ask whatever you want and however much you want! I’ll always make the time to write any requests~
Also sorry for taking so long; I really wasn’t too sure how to write this, and I’m sorry but I kinda tweaked it and lil bit.. ^^’ I was going to make everyone but I ended up only doing Mammon cuz I thought it would’ve been a very long post. BUT! I can most definitely make separate posts for each of the brothers if that’s something you and others want!
A and as always, if it sucks just lemme know! Constructive criticism is always welcome >;)
Cotton Surprise
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Obey me! Mammon x Sheep!MC
Genre: Fluff, crack/shenanigans, slightly suggestive
What’s it about?: Seeing your human form for the first time!
Not that many but They/them pronounce; mainly AFAB
A throwback to Lesson 19 from the original game but tweaked it as well
Edit: ((There were minor changes cuz someone made a comment that pointed out to me how maybe some people didn’t understand what I was telling. Totally my fault ^^’🙏))
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None of them ever understood why you turned into a sheep. It happened as soon as you first arrived to Devildom. But the more time they spent with you, they got used to it — some even forgetting you’re a human all together.
One day, most of the Brothers were sitting together in the living room. It was mostly quiet until Asmo brought the question: “Hey, What do you guys think MC looks like if they weren’t a sheep?”
It left them a bit dumbfounded that they hadn’t even thought about it. They got so used to you being a sheep so it kinda just slipped their mind. It also got them to start bickering a ton of what they thought you’d look like.
— “What’s with all the commotion?” A voice interrupts their conversation. Lucifer walks in with you in his hand, talk about perfect timing!
— “We were just talking about what MC looks like if they were in their human form.” Beel explains.
— “Oh right.. none of you have seen them.” Lucifer remarked, chuckling softly under his breath.
— “What does that mean?” Satan says with already irritation in his voice.
— “Well, it’s only right that I know what MC looks like. I was the one who picked them, after all.”
This got many of them heated! Jealous that Lucifer was pretty much the only one that knows. Mammon, Levi and Asmo were whining about how that’s not fair, Satan was gritting his teeth, and Beel along with Belphie just sat quietly watching the scene. They quieted down once you said, “I could just describe what I look like, y’know.”
All of them gathered around like a bunch of kindergartners getting ready to listen to a story book. They payed such close attention to every detail you said and tried to visualize it in their head to the best of their ability. It only made them even more eager to see you for themselves.
And it didn’t happen until the very last moments before you had to go back to the human realm..
… With a true loves kiss! >;D
Cliché, I know. - -’
Mammon
After dipping the House of Lamentation, he ends up in who knows where but more importantly, away from Levi. After he was done huffing for air, both of you start laughing from the absolute fun of stupidity you guys had. You couldn’t help but think about how odd it must’ve look from someone else’s perspective.
You two eventually eased off and took the time to catch your breaths. And then realize the beautiful view you guys have of Devildom. He sits you down gently on the thick stone fences while he rests his body on it. There was a short, soothing silence between the both of you — a soft, cool breeze blowing while you watching the city lights together. Mammon eventually brakes the silence and says,
“Y’know what? It’s always fun whenever you’re around.. I’m always smilin’ and laughin’ when we’re together. There’s never a dull moment..” he says softly; when you look up at him, he’s not looking at you but can tell he has a blush decorating his cheeks.
You smile at him warmly, before looking down at your tiny trotters. You were a sheep till the very end.. you had fun, but you can’t help but get a little sad thinking about it. Like just now, you would’ve been able to run away with him instead of being carried like a pillow.
“W-Who needs the human world, eh? You don’t gotta go back! I want you right here in Devildom, I want you here with me, all the time..!” Mammon looked straight at you, you perked up at him once he said that. He looked at you as if you were the greatest treasure he’s ever had. He wasn’t kidding around, such an unusually serious and determined face…, you felt butterflies in your stomach.
There was a silence again, you looked at him with in awe eyes. He slowly leans in, you leaning slightly forward.. letting whatever was going to happen, happen. Until finally, his lips reached you.
☁︎ —Poof— ☁︎
Light clouds suddenly surrounds you, Mammon was completely taken aback; and then he just freezes. When the clouds disperse, it revealed you.
You felt.. different. Blinked a couple of times before you looked down again. And to you completely surprise, the troopers you looked at but merely a few seconds ago were replaced with hands! You touched your face, your hair, your legs.. they were all back! You give a yell for joy, your curse has been broken! But then you also realize how you didn’t have any clothes on… you looked at mammon — who had his face completely red and eyes glued on you, completely frozen in place. Which made you freeze for a moment.
(Him)→ ╭( ⸝⸝๐_๐)╮ (○□○) ←(you)
— “AAAAAAAHHH!!!”
— “AAAAAAAHHH!!!”
You tried to cover yourself to the best of your ability; but first of all, you can’t really cover much. Second, he already saw everything! Both of you were very flustered, embarrassed, and still shocked by what just happened. You weren’t a sheep anymore! What’s up with that?!
Thankfully, Mammon at some point finally snaps out of it and covers you with his uniform’s blazer. You grip onto it tightly and covering yourself to the best of you ability. You mutter him a ‘Thank you’ under your breath. But both of you were still quite frantic, looking at each other with wide eyes while huffing to calm you nerves.
“Aha! …Found you!” A voice suddenly says from a short distance. It was Levi!
“Oh shit..”
“Mammon, Give me back my moneeey!!”
“Yikes! Time to go!” He says, lifting you up into his arms and making a run for it. And man did he run! He probably ran faster than when he was being chased by Lucifer. Levi didn’t see it coming’.
You were in a daze, you’ve been carried by him countless times.. but today you felt like a princess that’s been swooped by Prince Charming — a very peculiar one, but still charming.
He — at some point — stops running and hid in whatever corner he thought was good enough so that Levi wouldn’t find you two. With his back to the wall, he collapses to the ground. With you still in his arms but making sure you didn’t fall. You can’t help but laugh and pull him into a tight hug.
Mammon felt like his face was going to explode any second now, he just couldn’t believe that he was holding the actual you — and naked at that! But whatever was going through his head completely perished once he heard your lovely laugh. You were so happy.. embracing him with all your new found excitement. It felt like it was only the two of you in the whole word, so nothing else mattered.
“You broke my curse, Mammon!” You say. When I say this guy’s ego got inflated, I mean it. He felt like nothing could stop him now. That’s right! The great Mammon just did that! No one else!
He takes a closer look at you face; he always kept in mind all of the details you said that day, but you looked way better than what he had imagined. He couldn’t believe his eyes…
You suddenly pull him in and give him a passionate kiss; and oof, was he over the moon! After that one, he starts feeling greedy. Just one kiss isn’t enough..!
—☁︎
Later on, he bought you a few clothes since, of course, you didn’t have any. And decide to go back home.
When he went back to the House of Lamentation, he wanted nothing more than to just sneak in without his brothers knowing. But much to his dismay, Levi was already waiting for him at the gates. And when he realizes that the person he’s holding is you, he goes hysterical and now the rest of his brothers know..
“Oi, that’s enough! Step aside! Can’t ya see MC needs to get to their room??”
He’s always looked out for you.. from beginning to end. You felt like you were falling in love with him all over again. It was hard to believe that life here was coming to an end.. You want to make the most of it before having to go back home. But at the moment, you just wanted time to stay still, just for a moment..
End
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I had a lot of fun writing this! So tysm for requesting it -🍓. Tho again, I’m sorry for not really completing what you asked for.. I still hope I was able to put a smile on your face! Take care~
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oceans-goddess · 1 year
Text
Not Stupid At All
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A/N: Sorry I haven't been very active lately, I'm a busy gal at school these days. Hope you like this short fic! I love this boy with my entire heart and I feel absolutely no shame in telling you all that he is my ride or die comfort character<3. Might edit this later because I don't love it, but it'll do for now
Pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader
Warnings: none I think
______________________________________________________________
Months into the school year, Eddie was still impressed with himself for managing to befriend you that first day of school, when you'd sat all alone at lunch, poking at the grimy "meal" on your lunch tray. His friends had been trying to tell him about a new store that was opening up in town, but he barely heard them.
"And I heard they'll have... Eddie?" Gareth had said, noting Eddie's distraction. "Hello?..."
But Eddie was too busy watching you dig through your bag and pull out a notebook. He'd wished he could stand over you and see what you were writing, get a glimpse of what you were thinking. He felt a swell of affection when he noted the way you tilted your head as you scribbled, the light hitting your hair in a way that made him swoon.
It took a nudge from Dustin to catch Eddie's attention once more; he let out a yelp of pain and mostly surprise.
"Fuck was that for?" he asked, but Gareth cut in then.
"That was for you not listening."
Eddie rolled his eyes and tried to listen, but after a few minutes, it was clear he was completely unfocused again. Jeff waved a hand in front of his face, asking Eddie what his problem was.
"Nothing, man. I'm fine."
"You've been quiet all of lunch," Gareth pointed out, Mike nodding in agreement next to him. Suddenly, every eye at the table was on him, expecting an answer.
"Jeez, guys, I don't fucking know! I'm fine, just..." without knowing how to finish, Eddie slumped forward, messing with his jacket collar.
"Just what?"
"Guys, maybe lay off? He said he was fine," Dustin tried, but no one else was buying it. After a few more unanswered questions, Eddie caved.
"Alright, alright, I'm just kinda, I don't know... I mean, have you seen that girl before?" He said the last part an octave lower, hoping to be discreet, but it didn't matter; every other boy's head swiveled around to look at you sitting at the next table over.
"Way to be subtle, guys, Jesus," he huffed. Gareth was the first to speak.
"Nah, I've never seen her. Probably new."
Obviously, thought Eddie. You had to be new. Eddie would have noticed you if you'd come to this school last year, no question.
"She's cute," Jeff commented.
"Gorgeous," Eddie spat before he could stop himself. Gareth laughed loud enough to draw your attention, and you looked up from your notes, slightly startled. Surely others nearby had done the same, but Eddie didn't care-- he just didn't want to draw your attention.
"Shut the fuck up!" he whisper shouted, reaching across the table to flick his friend in the forehead. When he looked back in your direction, your focus was back on your work.
"Just go say hi," Dustin suggested, earning a snort from Mike. Eddie rolled his eyes. Jeff clapped Eddie on the back, agreeing with the curly-haired freshman.
"No," he said curtly, hoping to end the conversation there, but with this group, it was never that easy. They encouraged him some more, but he denied them once again.
"No, I'd look totally stupid just going up to her."
"No way man," Mike declared. "Not stupid at all. Just be cool. It'll go great."
"Go get 'em, tiger," Jeff growled playfully, "or I'm calling her over." Eddie raised his eyebrows in surprise, his mouth agape.
"No! No, stop. Alright, I'll go say hi. Just shut the fuck up."
______________________________________________________________
It had been months since then, and you'd been kind enough to befriend Eddie. The two of you spent time together almost every day. Every time you looked at him he got lightheaded, and whenever you hugged him goodbye he could barely manage to stand up straight. When you'd asked in your sweet voice if Eddie could be your regular ride home from school, all he could do was nod. He'd probably say yes to anything you asked of him, now that he thought of it.
"What should we do?" you now asked as you sat in Eddie's van in the school parking lot after a DnD session.
"Uh... we could go for a drive? Listen to some music, pick up some snacks, and just drive around for a bit?"
You smiled at that, nodding slightly. The gesture set off the butterflies in his stomach.
"You can choose the music," Eddie allowed, expecting you to choose Wham! or Cyndi Lauper or another artist that he didn't particularly like but had picked up from the store for you to listen to when he drove you home. Instead, you picked out a Metallica album and handed it to Eddie.
"Are you sure? I feel like these songs are kinda intense for a chill night," he asked, completely astonished at your choice. But you were sure, and you told him you wanted to listen to what he liked tonight.
He hadn't thought you could get any sexier, but here you were.
After stopping at the store, the two of you chatted lightly between bites.
"This is nice," you said suddenly. "I mean, the other guys are fun to hang out with and everything, but I feel more relaxed with you."
Eddie could have passed out then and there. You liked spending time with just him? Before he could respond, you spoke again.
"Sorry, I made that sound kind of weird. I just meant that, ugh, I don't know, I mean, you're just... very sweet." From the corner of his eye, Eddie could see that you had your head ducked down and that you wrung your fingers in your lap. Before saying anything, he desperately needed to park the car. He couldn't focus on the road and what you were saying to him at the same time. His mind was racing-- could you actually be trying to tell him what he'd been hoping to hear since the day he met you?
He found an empty parking lot and put the van in park, but it took him a few moments to figure out what he wanted to say back to you. You quickly scrambled for an apology.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to weird you out--"
"No, no you didn't, Y/N." Eddie said quickly, realizing that he needed to come up with something quick.
"I... I like spending time with you too," he said, then internally cringed, realizing how stupid he sounded.
"You do?" you asked. He was surprised that you couldn't tell already. Every moment that he wasn't at band practice, at work, or in class (and even sometimes then), he was with you.
"Yeah," he whispered, and you smiled, shifting to face him in your seat.
"Can I tell you something?" you asked.
"Anything," Eddie breathed. You hesitated for a moment, a blush rising to your cheeks. The anticipation practically killed him.
"I've kind of had feelings for you for a while now," as you spoke, Eddie's world imploded, the car windows shattered, the music blared, the lights in the parking lot flickered wildly-- "and I was wondering if you would ever consider, you know, going out on a date some time."
Eddie didn't know what to say. The girl of his dreams had just asked him on a date, and he was completely speechless. His world had just been turned on its head, and she expected him to give her an answer without blowing up right where he sat? But the longer he sat there staring at you dumbfounded, the more your expression turned from hopeful to embarrassed, and he had to put a stop to that quickly.
"Yes," he choked out, "of course, I'll go on a date with you." You looked over at him with wide eyes.
"Really?"
"Yes, Y/N. I've had feelings for you since the day I met you." You tried to hide your grin by looking down at your lap, making Eddie smile stupidly at your cuteness.
"Why haven't you said anything?" you asked, unaware of Eddie's gaze. He shrugged, then began to speak.
"I guess I didn't want to mess up a good thing, ya know? I mean, you are undeniably the smartest, sweetest, most beautiful girl I know. And I was lucky enough to be your friend. I didn't want to tell you how I felt and make things weird between us if you didn't feel the same." You giggled and shook your head at his assumption.
"No, honestly, I've had a crush on you since we met too. I remember Gareth laughing at something at lunch the first day of school. When I looked over at your table, I saw you sitting across from him. I remember thinking how cool you looked. Your hair, your clothes--" you stopped yourself then, clapping your hand over your mouth to guard yourself from revealing any more. Eddie leaned into you, his eyes begging you to tell him more.
You squeezed your eyes shut and cringed, but Eddie only laughed and pulled your hand away from your mouth. Now that he knew how you felt, he had to know the rest. He was on top of the world tonight, and he wanted to bask in the glory of being admired by you for as long as he possibly could.
"Ugh, um, okay..." you continued, "you looked really stressed initially, but when you came over to talk to me, you were so confident and, I don't know, it was exciting. You wanted to be my friend. I could barely speak. Kinda stupid, I know."
"No way," Eddie laughed. "Not stupid at all. I felt the same way."
When you looked up at Eddie, he was staring at you with the gentlest expression you'd ever seen on him. He was still holding your hand in his, and you intertwined his fingers with yours. He smiled at this and brought his other hand up to cup your cheek. The pads of his fingers were a bit rough from playing his guitar, but you liked the feeling.
Soon, you were lifting your chin, and he was pressing his lips gently to yours. He brushed your cheek with his thumb as he kissed you, and your heart was beating out of your chest. Eddie's kisses were sweet and slow, the exact opposite of what you'd expect from a guy like him.
When you pulled away, the beautiful boy in front of you was smiling. "So," he began, "where will this date be held?"
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berrystiles · 1 year
Text
Right Where You Left Me
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Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!reader
Word Count: 10.1k
Content Warnings: Angst, Lovers to strangers kinda deal ya know, some cursing.
Summary: It's the summer before you head off to college, and there's a fear about that decision that keeps creeping in. You try not to let it drown you, spending time making summer plans for your friends and with your boyfriend Steve. It feels like you can do this, and you're happy to be staring into the summer ready to make memories that will carry you into college. However, unbeknownst to you something else is brewing and Steve has plans of his own. One unexpected breakup later and your summer now looks a lot more like trying to overcome heartbreak.
Author Note: I'm the only one to read over this, so me and Grammarly are all I have regarding editing. Also, I guess this is just what I write now! Inspired by my favorite sad girl songs, if you know them I'm sure you'll see them. I have ideas for a part 2 of this if anyone would be interested? All of this was supposed to be a one-shot type of thing, but it started getting long. Part two would be a resolution as we fade into a happy ending, and get some much needed answers.
Ao3 Link - In case you want to read it there
Steve Harrington is soft smiles passed your way over the tops of all the children he babysits heads. He is weekend movie nights spent curled up next to one another on his couch, so close that you sometimes think you could become one person if you tried hard enough. He’s not your first relationship, but sometimes when you can’t sleep at night there’s a reoccurring thought that he is going to be your last. Steve has been orbiting around your life since elementary school, close but never within reach. That was the way, only knowing him through rumors passed around the halls of Hawkins High, two passing ships in the hallway between classes. This last year though has brought him into your world, no longer is he a passing comet that you stop to stare at. Now he’s yours and your mom will chide and say it’s just high school love, but you can’t imagine a world where his hand doesn’t stay attached to yours. Call it whatever you want, but something about this just feels too real. The kind of love you hear about in novels, the kind people wax poetic structures about. You’re not sure what you did in a past life, or what karma you collected over time, but you’re thankful for the universe putting the two of you together.
The only bleak part of your future with Steve comes after summer ends. You’ve just graduated, and school is expected of you in a way that you know you can’t turn down. Steve has been more than understanding, it’s a pressure he recognizes from his parents. You have no clue what you want to do but your dad swears that you’ll figure it out when you get there. You manage to get into a good school but it’s 5 hours away from Hawkins. Your parents are ecstatic, they can’t stop talking about all the ways you’re going to grow in this next phase of your life. Your parents are the people who met in college, and even though they won’t say it there’s something about you needing to attend that feels a little like them trying to relive their glory days. You love them but you’re not sure if they know you or if they really listen when you talk.
You find that if you put on a smile and nod along to what they say though it gets you through conversations faster. It’s a small price to pay so you can escape the house and rush to Steve. Steve who you hate to leave behind, sweet Steve who has been there to hold your hand and be your rock through it all. You’re not sure if you’d be able to put up with your parents’ expectations if he wasn’t there with you holding you up. You worry you put too much on him like you weigh him down the same way your parents tend to do. Sometimes you tell him your concerns, and he’s always quick to quiet the fear.
The thing with Steve is he is so soft sometimes, and yet you can’t help but feel protected in his arms. Still though, even as he brushes your hair to the side, as his lips touch yours and he peppers you with affection and reassurance, you make a vow to yourself to try and reduce how much you complain. You can’t stop the anxiety that sometimes spikes up despite his kindness that maybe this all hurts a little too much for him. After all, his family held similar expectations for him. You know that his dad is a different kind of mean and demanding than yours. Your family feels like a small-time problem when put into the perspective of Steve’s parents.
You have a mantra you follow, reminding yourself that school, as daunting as it is, is still months away. You have a whole summer to forget about it all. A whole summer of nothing but your friends and Steve. You know you’ll be right next door at the arcade, your shifts and Steve’s always lining up because of a favor Keith owed you. There are plans in place that will carry you through. There’s the drive-in and their Friday night movie deals, sunny days that will be spent at Lover’s Lake, the regular Sunday brunch at your favorite diner, and so much more. You make sure to focus on those things, knowing that all of it will be enough to get you through that first semester of school once you finally go.
However, like with most things that seem to happen in Hawkins, your good luck runs out. You hate to say it, but you didn’t see it coming. Delusional bliss is apparently where you’ve been living and the rose-colored glasses you didn’t know you were wearing are snatched off your face without a moment of hesitation. Looking back the signs will be there in glaring neon colors, and you will hate yourself for missing them. For missing them to the point that you couldn’t even backtrack to fix where your so-called perfect relationship went off the tracks.
It's a week into summer and things are not at all going to plan. Your parents are pressuring you to cut your summer short and go to school three weeks early so you can settle in for classes. And honestly, it’s not the worst idea and if you were anyone else maybe it would be appealing. However, you’re on a fixed time frame and you don’t plan to give up one ounce of time with Steve and your friends before you absolutely must. Despite schedules syncing up, there’s a distance growing between you and Steve. At the time you understand, there are kids to be driven around and then his parents unexpectedly show up back home. You don’t blame him for the distance, you take it in stride and offer your support just like he’s been doing for you. The future version of yourself, will look back and call you an idiot for not digging deeper. But why would you? In all the time, though maybe it hasn’t been that long, Steve has never once been the cause of your anxiety. Never once has he ever done anything to make you question your relationship, or whether you can trust him or not.
After a week of only seeing Steve in passing and on lunch breaks, you finally get the chance to have uninterrupted time with Steve. He catches you on a break at work and asks if you want to get dinner once your shifts end. He doesn’t carry that same glowing smile he always does when he drops these moments on you, but you brush the thought aside assuming this is the residual damage from his parents. You’re just happy at the prospect of being with Steve so you’re quick to agree, and even quicker to pull him in for a kiss to seal the deal. In your excitement, you don’t notice how this kiss doesn’t feel like a welcomed hello, and later you’ll tell yourself that it was the first sign of goodbye. But in the moment Steve is pulling away, and he’s looking at you like he's tracing and memorizing everything about you. “I’ll see you after work,” is the parting sentence before he’s jogging back to Family Video.
Steve and you meet in the middle of your two jobs, and he holds out his hand just like he always does. He leads you to his car, asking you about your day. You tell him about the party coming in, and about all the different characters of teens who came in. You prattle on and on, all the way to your favorite diner. You ask him about his day and try to get him to talk more. A quiet Steve, with eyes not shining, is a version you hate to see. You want nothing more than to pick him up, hopefully, wash off all the grime that his parents so obviously threw on him in the short week they were home. It’s always hard doing this walk and dance, the scars his parents leave him with always cut deeper than you have an awareness of. But it’s never this impossible, by the time you’re leaving the diner you’re more worried about what happened during this visit home than you ever have been. You’ve learned with Steve that when it comes to his parents you can’t poke too much otherwise, he gets spooked. Normally, he finds a way to talk about it usually when you’re both back at his place and the light is off for the night. When it’s so dark in his room that you can’t see the way his face is lined with grief, and pain that he shouldn’t have to experience. You’re so used to the pattern that you don’t mind the car ride after dinner being just the sound of the radio. It’s not unwelcomed, it’s just a part of the pieces that happen, which is why you’re surprised when Steve parks in front of your house.
“Oh, are we not going to yours?” Your brow is furrowed as you turn in your seat to face Steve. Even when you don’t stay at his place, he still is always looking at you when you turn to leave. This time though Steve’s hands are still holding on to the steering wheel, and he can’t turn to face you when he finally gathers the ability to reply. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
The radio is still on, and your ears pick up Whitney Houston singing a new song that’s been playing everywhere. “What do you mean,” your stomach feels like it’s falling right out of you and your brain is giving radio silence as you try to gain some understanding of what the hell is going on. You watch as Steve takes a deep breath like he’s centering himself before turning to face you. Every time Steve has ever looked at you it’s been with nothing but softness, an unquestioning gaze that always tells you what he’s thinking. The Steve before you though, these are eyes that aren’t that sweet look he normally gives you. Instead, this one is cold, one that you can barely recall. You have to pull at memories from his reign as King Steve to find some type of look that’s like the one you receive now.
“I just don’t think this is working,” he shrugs like this isn’t the biggest thing to ever happen before. Like he’s telling you something that should be common knowledge.
“I don’t understand, Steve.” There’s a burning feeling in the corners of your eyes. The sensation is a warning that if you don’t pull it together, you’re going to start crying. You don’t know how to pull it together because what little Steve is telling you sounds an awful like a breakup.
Steve sighs, something heavy like he’s just so tired of having to explain himself. It’s an odd sound and it rubs you raw because he hasn’t explained anything. How can he already be tired of a conversation that makes no sense?
“Look, I don’t want this to be harder than it is,” you cut him off before he can continue. “So don’t make it hard, just tell me what’s going on and why you’re saying all of this.” You don’t recognize your voice. The pleading tone sounds watery and not at all like what you know yourself to be. You don’t think you’ve ever begged someone in this way before.
“I just don’t feel the same way for you,” it’s so blunt and to the point that it leaves no room for argument.
“I don’t understand,” you’re repeating yourself and you hate that. You’re not stupid, you can usually piece things together faster than this. The phrase, ‘having the rug pulled out from under you’ rattles around in a way that suddenly makes total sense.
“I don’t know how to explain it any better. I don’t want to date you anymore. I don’t want to see you.” You didn’t realize before that the cold tone he was using still allowed for kindness. In this final statement, his words are ice, and you feel like you just took a plunge into Lover’s Lake in the middle of winter.
You have more you want to say, questions that you feel need to be asked. If you stay though you feel like you’re not going to get them, and honestly, it’s taking more energy to keep yourself together than it would be to stay. You’re not sure if you say anything else if there’s some kind of acknowledgement on your part. All you know is that your body is screaming at you to run. Staying in that car doesn’t feel like a place you belong, so you’re quick to get out. You don’t even make it to the door before Steve is peeling off and driving himself home. The action feels like the last break in any resolve you had. Your Steve would always wait until you were inside before leaving. Always telling you he'd rather know with certainty that you were safe before he ever left. It was one of those things that told you how caring he was, that showed how he loved you.
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In what will later be referred to as The Aftermath, you have the next day off. Your mom hovers at your door, knocking and knocking. The sound makes your head hurt and forces you to pull your covers over your head like it’ll drown out everything else. If you had anyone else as a mother, you might be able to convince yourself that she’s doing it from a place of concern. The truth is that this is the same woman who when you came in last night, uncontrollably sobbing and barely getting out the words ‘Steve’ and ‘broke up’, your mom was asking if this meant you’d go to school earlier like she and your father want.
The tears had stopped sometime around when you finally found yourself falling asleep. They haven’t picked back up and everything you ever learned in biology screams out you’re dehydrated. There are things you should be doing, things that you have done for yourself when other relationships ended that made it so the person you were dating was nothing more than a faded memory. Maybe if you go through the ritual of it all, the gathering of reminders, and the disposal of memories it’ll make you feel better. There should be phone calls to girlfriends, and movie nights set up to help push you through these feelings.
Instead, you continue to stay in bed. Your limbs feel like lead, weighed down and stuck, too heavy for you to move. Your curtains are drawn so tight that not even the hot Indiana sun comes through to ruffle you into motion. Your wall has your attention, and you find yourself using the texture of the paint to trace all the lines in your relationship with Steve. Maybe if you follow them to the end like a map, they’ll tell you where you are and where you go from here.
In the midst of The Aftermath, in the bed of your grief, you manage to make one phone call. Well… that’s a lie. You make two phone calls. In no surprise to the imaginary audience watching you grieve; the first call is to Steve. The phone rings and rings and rings. Steve never answers and it should be a sign. You get the standard Harrington voicemail. Steve’s mom’s voice becomes the soundtrack to your day. She tells you to leave a message, and that the family will get back to you when they can. You open your mouth, no plan on what to say but surely there’s something there in your head that will tumble out. The answering machine beep is met with your silence though, just your breath coming through, you wonder if Steve will know it’s you even if you don’t leave your name. Does he still have you memorized in all the ways that you still know him? Did he forget about you in just the span of a day? Worst thought of all, did he even really take the time to trace you down in his memory the same way you did him?
You hang up after that last thought, still no name and still carrying the hope that it could be enough. Your second call is made two hours later when there’s still no call back from Steve, even though he should be off today too. Even though, there’s a piece of your mind screaming over and over that he should have heard the silence in the message and been able to read through it. Maybe that’s unfair of you to place that on Steve, but it also feels unfair that he had the power and took action to bring you where you lay now. The second call is to Keith at the arcade, where you know he’s working since you’re off today. The favor you cashed in on is wasted because your request is for him to take back your schedule.
“I can’t work the day shift anymore,” your voice is hoarse and throat sore as the words stumble out.
“That sounds like a you problem,” you grimace as you hear Keith chewing what you know are those stupid cheese snacks he always carries around.
You hold back a groan and tell yourself your next move, while incredibly bratty, is the only way that you return to work. Your parents hate you working at the place anyway, but you like the independence, you like having your own money and you don’t want to give up another thing this summer.
“It’s going to be your problem because I’m not working any shift that overlaps with Harrington. I’ll quit.” You hate how Steve has transformed into Harrington. Hate how removed it sounds, not at all reflective of how close you had been. If you say his first name though, you know you’re going to cry.
Keith whistles, the tone way too low and drags out in a way that makes you feel a wave of creeping anger you’re not used to.
“So, you and Harrington are over then. Knew he was stupid but didn’t think he was that stupid.”
“He’s not stupid,” your defense is soft, it feels telling of where you are. It isn’t harsh in the way that it should be. It’s not your job to defend Steve anymore, he let you go from that position last night after all.
“I’ll change the schedules,” is the response you get back and it’s the nicest thing that you think Keith has ever said to you. However, you know Keith, and this feels a little too easy.
“Is there a catch?”
“Nah, just can’t afford to lose you so consider it your lucky day.” It doesn’t feel like your lucky day, but you don’t say that. Just mumble out a thank you after he tells you that your shift tomorrow will be the closing shift and Harrington will be gone by then.
True to his word, when you pull into the shared parking lot of Family Video there is no sign of Steve’s car. There’s an awareness that it won’t always be this easy, that Hawkins is too small to go all summer without seeing him. And despite Keith’s previous comments on how he couldn’t afford to lose you, there’s also a silent understanding that he’s still going to be an absolute shit about all of this for the rest of the summer. Keith doesn’t know any other way to be, and it’s a moderate price to pay for your ability to at least show up to work without breaking down.
Dustin is the first one you see in The Aftermath, and you can tell by the way he keeps glancing at you in the arcade that he already knows what’s transpired between you and Steve. You’re not sure if it’s the telltale sign of the obvious breakup look you’re sporting, or if it’s Steve’s own admittance to the teen. Could be a combination of the two though. You looked in the mirror before leaving today. You’re fully aware that you look and feel like shit, and there’s no way to sugarcoat that.
Normally, Dustin would come to chat with you. Whether he’s with the rest of the party or by himself, he always says hello. He would do it before Steve, and you hoped that he’d do it after too. Dustin doesn’t say hello though, he avoids your gaze when you catch him looking your way, and even though you know at one point, he should come to you to complain about a machine he just leaves instead. The act makes you sad, it’s the first divide between the friendships you created and thought you would get to hold on to. Dustin might be in high school now, but he’s still a kid. Rationally, a piece of you should be able to string together how his silence speaks more about how he doesn’t know what to say and less about a side he’s choosing. Reality rarely ever plays out as it rationally should, so instead Dustin just becomes the first domino that falls, and you feel like you should have known everyone else would go along with him.
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The next three weeks find you oscillating like a fan. Days spent hiding in your room, working up the courage to move and take care of yourself. Then nights of work or spent rummaging through polaroids that catalog your relationship. You always told yourself you put them in a scrapbook, something to hold the years together so in old age you’d have something to shuffle through. It sounds silly now, but the pictures sit in a shoebox of movie stubs from the Hawk, the receipt from your first date together, and the paper menu from the diner that you talked a waitress into giving you. There are notes scribbled on lined paper that were slipped into your jacket pockets when Steve would kiss you goodbye as he dropped you off at school, dried flowers from prom, and so much more. After a week of crying over the pieces, ink smudging thanks to fresh tears your body can create again now that you’re hydrated, you manage to shove the shoe box in the back corner under your bed. You had to slide it back there with the broom, but you know it’s not within reach now and that feels like progress.
You still dodge calls from your friends that you collected outside of your relationship. When they manage to catch you on the phone they whisper sweet condolences, but underneath it’s an unspoken blame of how you should have known. “He was the King of the school, he only knows how to break hearts,” your friend Val tells you over the phone one night. Val pops her gum on the other end of the line, and it sets off a chain reaction of emotions. You feel like you’re going through the five stages of grief in that moment. Val tries to invite you out and reminds you that Hawkins has more boys than just Steve Harrington. She promises you a good time, a night to help you forget all about Steve. You make an excuse and promise to go out next time, but both of you know it’s a promise you won’t keep.
Your parents seem to have set up some game plan amongst themselves. They’ve learned that they can’t tell you that your heartbreak is juvenile. Instead, they preach about how open you’ll be to new opportunities when you head to school. Your dad has the course list, where he got it from you don’t dare to ask. He tries to plan out your future over dinner, but you don’t even know what life you want for yourself. Before this you just saw Steve in the future, you had naïvely assumed you’d have time to sort out the rest. But Steve’s in the rearview now, and your parents want to know what life you plan to have in your passenger seat.
It's three weeks of juggling it all, but you still haven’t seen Steve. It should feel like the universe is still on your side, but really, it’s more of a cosmic joke. It should be finally time for some peace, instead, the world feels the need to implode again. Your parents are out of town, an annual get-together with their old college friends, and you’re home alone. It’s late, you’ve only been off work for 20 minutes when you get to the grocery store. The pantry at home is bare bones and you’ve been putting off the need to go shopping for the last three days. You’ve been supplementing meals through various fast-food restaurants on the outskirts of town. But you’re tired of driving so far away, plus the taste of grease has become less and less appealing as the days have dragged on.
The evening finds you shrugging off your name tag from the arcade and running into Bradley’s to do some shopping before they close for the night. The air conditioning hits you right as the doors open, it cools your skin in a way that summer nights never will. You close your eyes and pause for a moment, maybe you look crazy, but it’s late and you don’t anticipate anyone else is going to be poking around the store. You grab a cart and you’re on your way, trying to be mindful to be quick because you know how it feels to work a closing shift. You wander up and down the aisles of the store, with no real list in mind just grabbing what sounds good. Your diet is still in a post-break-up mode which means you’re either only consuming junk food or pushing food around on your plate still too sad to eat. Which means, it’s time to be gentle with yourself and just grab the food that calls to you. Now is not a time for healthy eating and hitting every food group on that pyramid they went over in health class.
Because of this though you aren’t paying attention to what’s in front of you. You move through the aisles of the store with your eyes on the shelves, still having confidence in the fact that it’s just you and the store clerk in here. But remember, Hawkins likes to implode both literally and emotionally. You swing your cart into the next aisle, already excited to be browsing the cereal options. You only make it a handful of steps forward, eyes already searching for the cinnamon toast crunch which you’re rarely allowed to bring into the house otherwise your mom will complain. Your cart jolts and pushes you back, and you look up to find that you’ve hit another person’s cart.
You feel silly, and your cheeks are warm in an embarrassed flush. “I’m so sorry,” the words tumble out as you drag your gaze up to see what suburban mom you’ve managed to piss off tonight. When you see who it is though you find yourself wishing it was a mom about to yell at you, instead it’s Steve, you find yourself in front of. He says your name, a hint of surprise, and what you might have previously labeled as nervous energy. You must look stupid, both of you really, just standing in silence as the hum of the grocery store lights buzz on and the radio station the store is set to plays out louder than it should. Steve’s cart is full of popcorn, and snacks that you can trace to each teen you know he babysits, there’s even Robin’s favorite chips and the beer that Eddie likes to drink. All of it slides together and reminds you that it’s Saturday, which means movie night at Steve’s.
You don’t know what to say, and you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Frozen so that you can’t even run to escape the impending collision that is about to take place. It’s Robin rounding around the corner, her voice loud and unapologetic in a way you have always admired. “Hey, dingus, should we grab some ice cream for Erica, or do you think…” her voice trails off as she catches sight of you. “Oh,” and you look to Robin, she raises a hand to give a small wave at you and smile. It’s enough to also jump Steve into movement again, saying your name and you don’t wait to see if there’s more.
You don’t say anything as you turn to leave, though maybe you should have, at least to Robin. But she’s the headlights turning off and giving you the freedom to run. You can eat another fast-food burger tonight, and you hate that you’re just leaving your cart in the middle of the cereal aisle. But you can’t, you won’t just sit there and let yourself wonder that store when it’s obviously not a safe place.
The air conditioning hits you again as you run out the doors. No time to pause this time, and you actually seek comfort in the sticky heat that greets you outside of Bradley’s. The crickets sing to you as you rush to fumble with your keys and drive away before your past tries to catch you outside. You got three weeks of no Steve, and you had been lulled into this fantasy of maybe being okay someday soon. This though, this small interaction, where you didn’t even really talk to him, has shown that you’re not close to that. When you finally manage to pull into your driveway, your hand bangs down on the steering wheel. You mumble to yourself, “that was so stupid, you just ran?”
You’ll eventually make your way into the house about 15 minutes later, after you had completely gone over the entire interaction about three times. You know it will continue to replay all night long. It’ll be inside that you realize you never even stopped to get food, too focused on seeking the safety that you can apparently only find in your room these days. Time drags on and you keep opening and closing the fridge and the cabinets hoping that food will magically appear the next time you start looking. It’s late, Bradley’s will have to be a tomorrow you type of goal. You know Steve and the group will be up late tonight which means the morning will be safe.
You’ve resigned that tonight’s dinner will be a pack of saltines you find buried in the back of the pantry when there’s a knock on your door. Your friends know not to show up unannounced, and if your parents managed to come home early, they wouldn’t be knocking. It’s Hawkins, you remind yourself as you creep to the door, but then the additional it’s Hawkins kicks in and there could be anything waiting for you. You grab your mom’s tennis racket from the closet by the front door and peek out the peephole, but your porch light isn’t on, and you can’t see anything. When you open the door, tennis racket at the ready, there’s no one there. Instead, sitting on the mat right in front of your door is three bags of groceries from Bradley’s.
The bags contain all the items you remember dumping into your cart, including the added addition of one box of cinnamon toast crunch. You can’t prove it, there’s no note, but you don’t really need it do you? There are only two people who would have had access to the cart you left behind, and only one of those two would have added in your favorite cereal. An internal debate rages inside of you, one side of you wanting to leave the food on your porch. Hoping that maybe later Steve will drive by and see it still sitting there. Maybe it will be an ounce of the hurt he's inflicted on you. The other part of you though, the part whose stomach is literally just growling at the prospect of food, wins out. You drag the bags inside and spend the night cycling between the incident in the store and what the bags of food on your porch mean.
The next day feels like a relapse, and you find yourself pacing by your phone, the internal debate to call Steve rages on in your mind. The number of times you pick up that phone and start to punch in his number is too many to count. There’s only one time when you get through the whole number, you only let it ring once before you’re slamming the phone back down and rushing off to your room. You throw yourself onto your bed, face first into your pillow, and you scream. It feels like every emotion that’s been building up since that night in Steve’s car just forces its way out of you. You spend the rest of your day in bed, Don’t Dream It’s Over plays on repeat as you stare at your ceiling and only recognize time passing by the light that streams in from your window.
When your parents come back a week later you say that you want to leave Hawkins earlier after all. They don’t even ask why you changed your mind. They don’t press the issue, which you figured they wouldn’t, but it still stings. instead, they celebrate. Your mom pulls you into her arms and excitedly tells you that it’s the second-best decision you’ve ever made. Your dad chimes in about how the first was applying to college in the first place, his hand feels heavy on your shoulder. The smile you wear feels like it was pasted on, like some macaroni art piece a kindergartener does. Your parents don’t notice though, they never do, they move on already making plans about your departure. The choice doesn’t feel right, but then again, you’re not really sure what the right choice is any more or how it should feel.
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You spend the rest of your summer forcing yourself into spaces you don’t want to be in, but it feels like you have to. You got to parties with Val, you spend summer days at the pool with your friends as you planned. It may not be all the friends that you had anticipated being with but it’s something. You feel like with each activity you do you’re adding another band-aid to your heart hoping that this time maybe it’ll stay together. There are times, like at the community pool, when you sit with your friends, and you don’t really feel there. It feels like you’re playing a part and you’ve never been a good actress, so you’re still surprised when everyone just believes it.
Time and life keep moving forward and you wish it felt like you were too, but you still feel stuck. Your parents think that time won’t start moving until you’re away at college, and your friends believe that you need to start dating someone new to feel like you’ve moved on. You don’t think any of them are right but again you’re still stuck wondering what the right move is and how it’s supposed to feel.
What you do manage is to only catch glimpses of Steve for the rest of the summer. You see him at the movies dropping the party off, and you catch him one day leaving Family Video when he’s stayed too late. There’s another day at the grocery store, where you find yourself hiding behind a display stand to avoid the awkward run-in. You see him but you don’t think he ever sees you. You’re not sure if that’s exactly what you want, but if it is then why does it still also ache? A week before you leave you seek Steve out. You spend the morning giving yourself a pep talk, you take the time to perfect your outfit and ensure that you look better than you feel. This encounter is in your control, and you want to make sure it all goes off without a hitch.
You march into Family Video. You’ve been waiting for Robin to leave for her break and for a lull in customers to happen. When all the stars align you take a deep breath, shake out the nerves and move forward with purpose. You have a week left in Hawkins and all your teen magazines have told you that if you want to start college off right you need closure.
The bell above the door rings out in a way that feels louder than you remember. You don’t let it stop you though, you move forward and watch with some satisfaction as Steve’s head pops up and surprise washes over his face. Good, you think to yourself, finally, he knows what it’s like to be ambushed. You’ve planned out what you want to say so once you’re at the counter you speak before Steve can completely derail you.
“Harrington,” the last name comes out a lot calmer than you thought it would, you feel confident. “I leave for school next week…”
“Next week?” Steve interrupts, he looks like he has more to say but you send a glare his way which is enough to have him holding back words. If you paused long enough to just stare at him, you might wonder if he's disappointed, but you don't let the silence linger long enough to notice.
“As I was saying, I leave next week for school, and you owe me some type of closure or explanation for what happened. I’ll be at the diner tomorrow night, 7 pm and I expect you to show up.” You’re proud of yourself, your voice has an edge to it that leaves no room for disagreement.
Steve just says your name and he says it in the same soft way he did when you first started dating. You feel ruffled and some of that confidence feels like it’s being washed down a drain somewhere. “No,” you interrupt him. You can feel the tension in your forehead, you know your brows are furrowed and the frown on your face is reflecting your real emotions instead of some mask you’ve been wearing.
“You just dumped me, out of the blue and you gave me no explanation. I’m leaving next week, and you owe me this. You don’t get to dump me, say that you don’t care for me, and then leave groceries on my doorstep, Steve.” Something in your words must hit a soft spot that you know Steve still has inside of him. Even if his feelings for you are long gone, Steve has always been gooey and soft like caramel on the inside.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.” You stare at him a moment longer, trying to figure out if you’re getting an honest response. Once you’re sure you are you nod and turn to leave. When you were dating you never liked saying goodbye to Steve, it was always a see you soon. Now when you leave there’s no goodbye, but it’s more because you don’t want to waste another word on him. Not when you need to prepare for tomorrow.
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The next night finds you showing up at the diner first. The waitress recognizes you and tells you it’s been a while since she’s seen you. You don’t have the heart to tell her the reason why, you just smile and walk to the booth that used to belong to Steve and you.
You don’t feel as prepared for your conversation tonight as you would like, but you do feel less fragile. Somewhere between yesterday and today, you’ve managed to slide into the anger stage of your grief. There are times when you’re not sure if you’re going to just hit Steve as soon as you hit him, or worse. Worse is that small intrusive thought that you have about kissing him one last time. It’s weird because you’re so angry, the angriest you think you’ve ever been before. You feel like a pot that was left on a burner too long, just boiling over the edge and sizzling when you hit the stove eye.
And yet, behind all that anger there’s still the part of you that loves Steve. That piece of you can’t even remember the last time you kissed. You have fuzzy memories of when it might have happened. Maybe a goodbye kiss as he dropped you off at home, something that happened underneath his comforter as you both tried to hide away from the world a little longer. Either of those or something more is possible. It’s just... how were you supposed to know you needed to remember it? You think that maybe this time if you knew it was the last, you’d feel more prepared this time. Maybe it’ll help you feel better.
You slide the salt shaker between your hands, watching as it glides over the table as smooth as butter. Another glance at the clock tells you that Steve is late, Steve who was never late to anything that had to do with you before. The heat starts to turn up, and you feel more and more like that roaring boil of the pot. Twenty minutes after the hour he was supposed to be there the bell chimes above the door.
You don’t give in to the urge to look, you watch the salt continue to glide over the table. You know already it’s Steve because that same waitress is telling him that his girlfriend is at the regular booth. Steve doesn’t even correct her, at least not that you can hear. Steve slides into his seat as easily as the salt continued to glide on the table. All the anger you felt feels like it whooshes out of you. You go from feeling like a boiling pot to a balloon that was blown up and then let go before the air could be sealed inside.
As you sit across from him, the silence stretching on like the miles on an interstate you find yourself spiraling. People, mostly your friends and parents, have implied that it was childish of you to assume that your relationship with Steve would be anything long-term. And maybe you were, maybe somewhere in it all you got swept up in teenage fantasies. Sitting across from him though reminds you how it happened. For all the pain he’s caused, Steve Harrington is still the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen.
The people of Hawkins can gather and label you as simple-minded for all you care. Slap a label on you and shelve you in the town library with all the other romance novels, you don’t care. Because for all that they say you saw yourself creating a future with this man in front of you. Sure, maybe you romanticized it all, but God… you would have married Steve if he had given you a chance.
It’s that thought that spurs you back into the anger portion of The Aftermath. Because you didn’t build your relationship up by yourself. Steve was there too, he’s the one that layered the cement for your foundation. Steve with his endless flirting, his soft compliments, his whispered promises of forever. And even at the end, Steve left you with no explanation for this exit he took. And you can’t start your journey until he finally tells you why.
“You never really gave me a why for what happened at the end. I hate that it’s been months and I can’t let go of you, and maybe I’m just oversharing here, maybe I cared more, but I have to know. Steve, what the hell happened to us?” You’re surprised how quickly the words come out, but you’re pleased that they sound so tough. If Steve is surprised that you had to break the silence, he doesn’t show it.
“We’re young, this wasn’t going to be forever.” Steve’s voice isn’t loud, but it feels like it echoes in the diner. You want to sink into the vinyl of the booth, but you know you can’t.
“See, you say that but,” you take a breath to collect yourself to figure out how you say this all. “We talked about plans, Steve.” You look up, it’s easier to stare into the fluorescents than into Steve’s eyes. Your nerves make themselves known as you feel your fingers picking at the dry skin around your nails.
“Maybe somewhere along the way, I was looking farther into the future than you were. And if I was then I guess that’s on me.  But I didn’t even know forever was an option until you gave me the words to use.” You shake your head like it’ll knock away your disbelief. Your gaze drifts from the lights to your hands gathered on the top of the table now.
“There was that time,” You lay your hands flat on the table hoping the action will stop the nerves from expanding. “We had only been together for like 4 months, and it was that really rainy day?” It’s a question, a quick uptake that doesn’t need an answer. You finally look to Steve again, waiting for some recognition to spark in his mind before you bulldoze on.
“We stayed in your bed for hours, wrapped up in one another. It was the laziest and softest day we had since we started dating. And there was that moment, and you told me that you wanted pause time.” A grimace of a smile forms, and it’s a bitter laugh that accompanies it. “You wanted to stay in that moment forever, do you remember that?”
Steve, who has been so emotionless through your every moment since you broke up, seems to finally crack. You watch emotions slide out of him as you wait for a response.
“I remember.” It’s a whisper, a barely audible acknowledgment of your past. If words could hold weight though, if they could carry more than a sound, you think those two would weigh a ton. They sound heavy at least, and for once you’re happy you don’t have to offer to carry them for Steve.
“So, when did that change?” You press on, encouraged by his response.
“I wish I could tell you. I wish there was a day or a time if that would help you. It was slow, and then it was just there and so I ended it.” Steve’s response is a rush of words, and his gaze isn’t even on you. It all collides together like a car crash. And just like a car crash once the collision hits, you can’t look away from it. It feels like a tragedy, and you know you shouldn’t stare, but human nature is human nature, and you can’t change that. Maybe there’s more to say after his confession but instead, Steve leaves without saying goodbye. His departure is quick and you calling his name is the only thing that follows him.
You stay stuck in that booth for a while, Steve’s words rolling around in your head like a tumbleweed. This was supposed to be closure, but it doesn’t feel like anything has been closed. You feel like you’re trying to piece a puzzle together but some of the pieces are still missing. Steve is the only one that has them but he’s refusing to let you see them, so you don’t even know what you’re trying to put together.
A small nagging part of you feels like there’s still more to this. Like something bigger is at play. But if Steve isn’t willing to share with the class despite all your opportunities for him to do so you’re at a loss. You have to, at a certain point, accept the fact that this is an unknown portion that you’ll never get answered. You hate that, hate how bitter it tastes, but you have no other choice than to find a way to work towards it. Because if nothing else, this night has shown that you can’t keep this candle burning when someone is actively blowing it out. It’s time to snuff the flame out yourself. You want to hope that maybe it’ll be easier once there’s some distance between Steve and yourself. Maybe if you’re no longer hiding from him at the grocery store that door that feels like it’s still wide open will start to close and you can move on.
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The day before you leave feels like a round of goodbyes. You hadn’t told anyone besides Steve that you’d be leaving early. Your friends are surprised, and you smile and tell them you’re just excited. Steve had always been your secret keeper, the only one that knew the fear you had around going to college. So, you know your lie will go over smoothly with your friends, and just like you’ve been doing for the remainder of the summer your mask of ‘I’m fine’ will help sell the story more.
It's the kids and Robin that you feel the most torn on, the ones that you struggle with when it comes to a goodbye. The breakup fractured a lot of things in your life, and it feels like maybe you lost them all somewhere this summer. They were never really yours though, so how you could have lost them you’re not sure. In the end, you solidify your resolve and even if it means nothing to them it does mean something to you. You’ve already worked your last shift, and yet you sit in the shared parking lot of your former work and the only place you’re guaranteed to find everyone you need all at once. Since the mall is long gone, this is the best place to be on a hot summer day. Unless you want to share the pool water with the rest of the Hawkins. You wait, you let Steve leave for his lunch, and you take that as your moment.
There’s no speech planned, nothing too major in your goodbye. Robin’s surprised face is what greets you when she looks towards the bell ringing. A soft exclamation of surprise escapes her and she looks confused. “I don’t want to waste your time,” you find yourself telling her. This is the quietest you’ve ever seen Robin.
“I just wanted to say goodbye. I know you’re his friend, and we haven’t really talked since… Well, you know when, but sometimes you felt like my friend too and so I just wanted to say goodbye before I left and that I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you before this.”
All your words sound so unsure, and you feel like you should be phrasing questions instead of just statements.
Silence hangs over the store, and you feel like if you don’t leave it’s just going to grow more awkward. “Okay, well then.” You mumble to yourself, and you force a smile and a wave before you turn to go. You make it to the door, it’s open and you are half in the heat and half in the air conditioning when Robin finally speaks.
“I’m sorry,” it’s not what you expect, and you throw a glance over your shoulder. Her face reflects the apology she’s given you. “We were friends, it’s just-” You shake your head and interrupt.
“It’s okay, Robin. He was your friend first, I’m glad that he had you and the kids.” You smile, and it feels real this time. “Maybe when I get back for winter break, we could be friends again?”
 “I’d like that.” Robin matches your smile, and her nod is enthusiastic. You wave one last time and head fully out into the heat, you’ve got one more stop right next door and then your goodbye tour of Hawkins will be over.
The kids are right where you expect them. Tangled together around one of the games, with Max behind the controls. You wait until the losing screen comes on before addressing them. Your goodbye with the kids is just as short as your one with Robin. “You know I’m kind of gonna miss watching you all hold these games hostage,” Your tone is cheerful, not at all scared like you feel inside. The kids are quick to turn around and it’s Will that matches your tone when he calls your name. Will has always been the kindest of the bunch, and he’s quick to hug your side while everyone else smiles and says hello.
Max is the one to break the greetings, always the most impulsive of the group. “What are you doing here, do you work today?”
“Uh no, actually I came here looking for you guys.” You feel like you stumble over your words, especially as Mike gives you the most suspicious look you’ve ever seen him throw your way. He’s always hard to please, but you feel like maybe you shouldn’t have added him to the goodbye tour after all.
“I just wanted to say goodbye, I know we haven’t talked this summer but still.” You find yourself shrugging as you finish talking.
“You’re leaving already?” It’s Dustin this time, and you find yourself surprised. He hasn’t talked to you since the breakup, and you assumed that would carry over to this conversation. His tone sounds disappointed, and you find yourself feeling guilty for a reason you can’t name.
“I leave tomorrow,” there’s a chorus of groans and refusals that leave the kids. Something like regret swells up because sure these were Steve’s kids first, but they were kinda yours too. You knew them before Steve and had a whole weird dynamic with them before you even knew Steve worked next door. A part of you feels like you messed up this summer by not making more of an effort with them.
“I’m sorry about this summer,” the expressions they turn your way feel like they know too much for kids who are too young to be wrapped up in your love life drama. “We’re sorry too,” Lucas tells you. “You have nothing to apologize for okay,” you look at each one of them, the look on your face leaves no room for argument. It’s always worked with the group.
“Maybe when I get home for winter break, we could all do something together?” You offer them the same olive branch that was extended to Robin. Everyone, Mike included you’re happy to note, nods their head. You find yourself ruffling Will’s hair, he’s still the closest to you. “It’s a plan,” you tell them. “I’ll let you get back to the game, make sure you keep that top spot!” Max tells you not to worry about it, a smirk already forming on her face. You give them all one last smile and make your way out of the building.
You think you’re done, and you feel as at peace as you think you can manage under the circumstances of it all. You unlock the door of your car, plans already in mind for what is left to pack up for the trip tomorrow when someone is calling out your name. You look up and find Dustin running towards you. You meet him part of the way, and he’s throwing his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight. There’s a huff of surprise that forces its way out upon the impact, but you don’t hesitate as you return the hug.
His voice is muffled, and you rub soothing circles on his back. “Dustin, I can’t understand you.” You keep your voice soft like you’re talking to a startled animal. It’s just a moment before he pulls back, and you’re met with a teary face. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you this summer,” Dustin’s words are rushed and come out as almost one sound. You find yourself shushing him and pulling him in for another hug. “You’re all good, it’s okay.”
You give him a minute to just feel his big feelings before you push him back. Your hands rest on his shoulders and you find you don’t have to bend down too far to meet his gaze. You wonder when he started getting so tall and remind yourself it was probably sometime this summer.
“Dustin, I’m not mad or upset or anything okay?” You wait for him to nod along to what you’re saying. “I’m sorry you got caught up in all this,” there’s enough stress on sorry that you think it could take off like a jet with the force you’re pushing it out. “Steve and I were the adults, you shouldn’t have been caught up in the middle, okay?”
Dustin looks like he’s going to argue, “No arguments! This was between us, and we should have made that clear.” Dustin stares at you for what feels like a minute before he nods.
“I’m gonna miss you,” is what Dustin tells you next. “Keith is never gonna be as cool as you. Whose going kick all the older kids off the games for me?” You laugh, happy to see him joking with you now.
“I’m going to miss you too, kid.” You give his shoulders a squeeze, “I’m going to give you a secret, use it responsibly, okay?” Dustin gives you an excited look and nods his head quickly, “I promise,” he says.
“If Keith gives you any trouble, just tell him that you know about Lucy.” Dustin has questions you can tell. “Keith won’t ask you to tell him, he’ll be too embarrassed. If he asks how you know, then you just tell him I told you. He’ll do whatever you want.”
There’s a part of you that feels like maybe you’ve given him too much power, but Dustin’s always been a smart kid and Keith has always been a dick to him, so you don’t feel too much remorse. Someone should be benefiting from the information anyway, and Dustin feels like the right one out of the party to hold on to the information.
“With great power comes great responsibility,” You quote to him, it’s a quip he used to tell Steve all the time before you started dating. Something from a comic book if you remember correctly.
Dustin’s smile is blinding, “You were always too cool for him you know, it’s his loss.” You smile and hope it doesn’t come off as sad as it feels. “Thanks, Dustin.”
You ruffle his hair, just like you had done to Will. Dustin bats at your hands and you push him toward the arcade, “Go spend time with your friends. I’ll see you in December.”
Dustin starts to go but turns back just as quickly. “You promise?” The happiness that had been there before has been replaced with worry again. “I pinky promise,” you hold out your pinky to show him you’re serious. Dustin comes back just to seal the promise and then waves goodbye again returning to the arcade.
The next morning, when every spare inch of space in your car is covered in your belongings, you finally feel like you could actually leave this place feeling okay. Things are not at all the way you thought they would be when the summer first started. You also still feel a weird sort of dread about attending college, but it feels like you could conquer it. If you could do this, this weird limbo break-up, then you think college can’t be that bad.
Your parents aren’t going with you. Despite their excitement and all the ways they’ve pushed you into this decision, they have both told you they feel you have to do this alone. Everything is set up for you, your dad has given you a paper with your new address on it and a credit card for emergencies. You know in both their eyes they’ve done their job as your parents. They’ve paved the way for success and now it’s your responsibility to make them proud.
It feels fitting that you leave Hawkins the same way you started the summer, all alone. You tell yourself that this is what you need. You tell yourself a lot of things as you make your way to the town line. You try not to look in the rearview mirror, too afraid that you’ll see everything you’re leaving behind and change your mind. You remind yourself it’s a few months, and that you can do this. You just hope that you aren’t lying to yourself. You may not feel happy, but you also don’t feel completely numb either. Maybe that’s the right type of progress though.
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neonscandal · 3 months
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something I wanted to understand, the author said that satoru was quite a womanizer, but then he said that geto was much more popular among women than satoru I didn't understand
Technically, the author said that they didn't see Gojo being faithful to one or a certain woman not that he was a womanizer.
With what we know about Gojo (and Gege Akutami's trolling ways, for that matter), I think that's up for interpretation.
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FAN INTERPRETATION
Fans really took that sentiment and kind of ran with it because, to us, Gojo is high spec in every way. Canonically good looking, tall, competent at like.. everything according to Akutami, strong and presumably loaded. Of course someone like that would be a womanizer, right?
Except Gojo is an oversized child who still kinda refers to Digimon in conversation and primarily hangs out with 16 year olds. People project a lot of their BS onto him because they can't imagine ticking all those boxes and not being an asshole. But he’s a corny dork who is seemingly impervious to the outright disdain of most of the people around him. IT’S COMICAL. Personally, I think this interpretation is incorrect, demonstrably.
The other side of the fandom is naturally like... well of course he couldn't stay faithful to one woman. He's been faithful to Geto for ten years! I think we know what camp I've pitched my tent in *gestures vaguely to the rest of my blog* Especially when you bear in mind that Gege Akutami specifically designed Gojo and Geto to be intrinsic complements of one another.
CANON
I'm not so SatoSugu addled (once the brain rot sets in, it's terminal) that I am unable to disclose the secret third way we can interpret this. Canonically, when we look at Gojo as a character... it almost makes sense to assume he's simply not interested in dating at all.
Empirically finds it hard to relate to others
Even when he does care for others, he's still emotionally shallow and aware of it
Gojo clan leader with all associated unpleasantries and responsibilities from a young age
Single benefactor to two children; assumes direct responsibility over two more by staving off their execution
First line of defense for all of jujutsu society
Has a grand design of toppling said jujutsu society
Has experienced devastating loss which informs the grand design of his life's mission and he's always plotting, even when it comes to the seemingly altruistic act of "adopting" the Fushiguro kids or pressing Yuta and Yuji to learn under his care. When you consider that context, it furthers the idea that he's pretty divorced from emotion. Like, he wants them to have a childhood but its still at the pleasure of his convenience and ultimate purpose.
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LOOK at this gorgeous, gorgeous boy from pop layer art because I need it and, when I covet, you must also covet. Edit: I'd accidently copied the wrong link there! It's been fixed 💙
In universe, we've seen maybe two canonical couples: Yuta & Rika and Hakari & Kirara (to be animated). This supports the fact that Gege's not really concerned with injecting "romance" into the plot unnecessarily. Undeniably and supporting the SatoSugu agenda, however, is the fact that JJK 0 very much aligned Gojo & Geto with Yuta & Rika with the theme coming to a head in season 2 with Gojo's sealment. For clarity, I mean how love ultimately cursed Rika and Geto after death by Yuta's begging her not to leave and Gojo not properly disposing of Geto's body. Love turned Rika into a curse and allowed Kenjaku to swoop in on Geto.
GETO'S POPULARITY
Geto is, quite literally, popular with everyone in universe and that was before he became a cult leader... which also indicates a predilection for popularity, I guess? As a character, he is principled, thoughtful, gentle and strong. I think, collectively, we tend to toil over the fact that Gojo spent more time missing Geto than he actually knew him. But... that's the same for Shoko and Nanami. After Geto's defection, Nanami couldn't forsake him even if he morally couldn't approve of his actions. Over ten years later as the night parade of a hundred demons is set to take place, Yaga starts saying something along the lines of finally getting rid of the scourge that is Suguru Geto and Shoko makes it a point to leave. I think it's because, after everything, she still holds affection and pity for Geto and would rather not hear him being bad-mouthed for breaking under the pressure of things.
He was the best of them, after all.
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jrwi-transgender-swag · 8 months
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FISH N CHIPS DIVORCE SHOWDOWN !!!
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Chip
"gestures at him wildly look at him man " - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "Well he's a pirate and that's already very trans coded. He bases his personality and general vibe off people he looks up to which is giving gender envy. The only way Chip could ever be cis to me is if he was the token cishet but he's neither so like… Trans boyy (my words are failing me but you get it)" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "literally the transest guy of all time (loser edition). tits out tuesday. man with tits monday. like. transgender moment real " - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "He was picked up by pirates at a young age pre-pueberty. He then spent most of his childhood in a gang. This kid was so malnourished everyone just assumed he was a guy and he went with it since his puberty was so fucked. My transmasc agender king" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "fucking look at him. most transgender motherfucker to ever exist. we'll never know what his actual name was because he was named based on his first home, the black rose pirates ship. his tattoos go over his top surgery scars" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "he’s just . he just kinda is yknow" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag
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Gillion Tidestrider
"4 of the 5 JRWI fans I actually know fall under the transgender umbrella and all of them are absolutely in love with Gillion so here’s got to have something going on there" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "dude hes a fucking fish what else do you want from me. he has it all. the religious trauma. the swagger. the autism. he even has a cool fucking sword. his entire backstory is him being forced into a role against his will and only when he finds others does he get to fully embrace himself come the fuck ON" - Submitted For All Swag "he literally has gilded top surgery scars (saturn art that proves this even if it’s noncanon) that kind of trans swag cannot be ignored!! fucking!! golden scars!!! that shit kicks so much ass are you kidding!!! the koolest fish trans boy ever my goal in life truly" - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "same sorta thing as jay, he has this whole arc of changing from trying to live up to expectations to just being what he wants and thinks is good (very trans of him). also he's a fish guy and probably has no understanding of gender, at least in oversea terms. and he canonically referred to himself with it/its pronouns one time which. yes. i think his titles are like pronouns to him, like in the undersea you refer to yourself by describing yourself and your achievements (pretty sure that's actually a triton thing in actual dnd who knows). he is the chosen one and the chosen one was referred to with they/them pronouns for a reason (definitely because the chosen one is genderqueer and not just to be inclusive mhm you can trust me i have no biases, the goddesses told me themselves)" - Submitted For Nonbinary Swag "gives birthout of his pussy?"  - Submitted For Transmasc Swag "he is like sooo xenogenderr. that fish is just transgender im so sorry. too swagful not to be." - Submitted For Secret Fourth Swag
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