#didn’t realize just how triggering this day would be
Note
Hi :))
How about angry love confession in the rain with Lando and then a kiss in the rain??!
Olive (LN4)
Summary: After a massive loss, Lando and Y/n find themselves losing sight of the love they once shared. A ghost town in a house they once imprinted their love in is riddled in pain and grief. Right at the edge of the cliff, ready to give up and part ways, an anniversary pulls them back together and reunites them in what they once had.
Warnings: THIS IS VERY TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES, depictions of a miscarriage, language, massive angst, HAPPY ENDING
Note: it is not a very angry love confession im sorry :( but i kind of took creative freedom here! I hope you like it! I also lied THIS IS NOT A TWO PART JUST ONE because it ends positively
I could be a good mother and I want to be your wife. - Not a lot, just forever by Adrianne Lenker
There wasn’t necessarily a moment Y/n could pinpoint as the ending of the love her and Lando had. There were fights they had that could’ve hinted at their falling out, but it seemed as though one day, she woke up and the house they lived in together was just one of ghosts and pain.
The walls that were once filled with laughter and happiness now creaked with silence. This was almost worse than a complete break up. This was hell on Earth. This was living with the man she loved more than anything and knowing he no longer loved her in the way she did, lying to himself to try and salvage something that wasn’t there.
It was almost as if they hated the fact that, at some point, they loved each other. Lando couldn’t dare to look at her, worried if he did then he would realize how much he used to feel for her, and Y/n never spoke unless needed, not wanting to alert him of her presence and see him tense in the way he did.
It was tragic and it was sorrowful and it wasn’t love.
THREE YEARS EARLIER
Y/n set the last box down, staring at the empty room and smiling. His arms surprised her as they winded their way around her waist.
He nuzzled into her neck and kissed softly at the skin, “What a beautiful home for my beautiful girl.”
She blushed, “Lan, it’s your home too. It’s ours.”
She yelped as he twirled her around in his arms, face coming into view and oh so close. He nipped at her nose, giggles ensuing from the two, “Say that again.”
Her arms crossed over his neck, “It’s our home.”
Lando sighed and let his eyes fall to the space behind her, “Three years it took us to move in together.”
She tutted, “Three years it took you to convince me to move to Monaco.”
His dimples gave way and her heart warmed. The deep divots on his skin always peeked out when he was talking to her, she thought of them as a physical sign of his adoration.
She traced over them and Lando stared down at her, Y/n unknowing, as his body drowned in the love he had for her. He wouldn’t want to move in with anyone else. When he pictured his life, it was her standing in this room with him.
Their bedroom.
“How long do you think until a little you and me runs around here?” He whispered, grabbing her attention once more.
Y/n’s eyes lightly fluttered down to her stomach, “Not long I hope.”
A mischievous grin deepened his dimples and she knew what he was going to say before the words even fell from his mouth.
”Want to try now?”
No bed in the room, he dragged her down to the kitchen and set her upon the counter. Their first memory in their house together.
PRESENT
”Excuse me,” She whispered, a slight roughness to her voice only a lack of sleep could explain.
Lando didn’t move.
She huffed, “Lando,”
His head turned and his eyes latched onto the wall behind her, “What?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, “Please move.”
His head gave two glances to the left and right before he shrugged, “It’s a small bathroom, Y/n. I can’t move.”
”You’re standing in the middle of the walkway, Lando. I can’t get through to get ready for bed.” She gave, eyes rolling when he wouldn’t budge.
Lando snapped, “Jesus, Y/n, why don’t you just take your shit down the hall to the other bathroom. Get ready there. Problem solve, please.”
Her eyes turned cold and when he finally met them, he couldn’t recognize the woman he once loved.
“Fuck you. You of all people should know why I won’t step foot in there. You won’t. Why should I?” She said, pushing past him forcefully to get where she needed to be.
He grunted, “Don’t fucking push me. What are we? Five?”
She chuckled, “That’s rich coming from you.”
Lando’s eyes rolled, “Oh, come on. Really? You’re gonna fucking throw that at me?”
She put her toothpaste against the bristles of the brush and gave him a quick look before going silent and letting the cool mint taste shut her up.
He grumbled, “Fucking silent treatment. Classic.”
Lando slammed the door shut, random mutters of annoyance under his breath as he walked away.
Y/n stared at the white paint as it chipped away, having been slammed many times before. And only when she turned back to stare at her reflection did she notice the tears down her cheeks.
She could leave, there was nothing stopping her, but what she didn’t want to admit was the love still there that she couldn’t let go of.
THREE YEARS EARLIER
”You don’t think it’s weird we’re trying for a baby when we aren’t even engaged yet, right?” Y/n asked as she sat at the counter, the morning breeze coming in through the main bay window and keeping small strands of her hair out of her face.
Lando’s back was to her as he hesitated, “No, I don’t think so. Lots of couples do it.”
Her eyebrows knitted together, “Are you sure? I feel like they’re all at least engaged.”
A plate of pancakes was clutched in his grip when he turned around, a small smile on his face as he looked at her. He set the food down and pushed her hair off her shoulder, “We aren’t other couples, baby. We can do things on our own terms.”
She nodded, “Maybe, but…” She trailed off.
His mouth was filled as he murmured, “But what?”
She poked her food around with her fork when she whispered, “But what if I want to get married?”
Lando stopped eating, practically stopped breathing altogether. He took a few seconds before resuming his prior movements as if nothing happened, “We can talk about it.”
His lack of enthusiasm made her retract into herself. He wanted a baby, but he didn’t want marriage seemingly.
Why?
PRESENT
”So, how are you? I haven’t seen you since before it happened, Y/n.” Her best friend, Carter, asked.
Y/n blinked at the girl across from her, willing away tears, “I’m doing better.”
Carter stared at her skeptically, “What about Lando? How’s he holding up?”
Her mouth moved down a bit and Carter knew. What the couple had been through was hard enough and her worst fear was for her best friend to lose the man she loved to it. They were young, too young, and what could’ve made them stronger only destroyed them.
Carter’s hand reached across the table and clutched Y/n’s when her mouth began to move in a response, but failed.
She took a deep breath, “I’m not sure. We aren’t really talking right now. It’s been hard on us.”
Carter nodded, “Of course, it has. Of course.”
Y/n looked around the coffee shop and smiled at the times her and Lando used to make trips in the early morning just to get the hot liquid. She met Carter’s gaze, “I’m hoping we can somehow make it through.”
The implication of that sentence was shattered, Carter’s eyebrows raised, “You don’t think you can?”
Y/n picked at her nails, “We just had massive problems before it happened and then… Well, it happened, and it was so much to work through. We just crumbled under the sheer amount of shit to talk through. It sounds stupid, I know, for how in love we were. But, by the time we got through the grieving, the problems had been so long suppressed, we just hated each other.”
Carter dipped her head down to catch Y/‘s eyes, “But, what if that was just the grieving. What if you never hated each other and you were both just trying to get through your own sadness. What if you aren’t even done grieving.”
Y/n shook her head, “We’re so far gone, Car. I don’t ever see him even giving me the light of day to talk through it.”
”Lando loves you, Y/n. He always has and he always will. He’s just in pain.” Carter tried, but Y/n snapped.
”So am I.”
A silence passed between them before Y/n dropped her head, muttering an apology for her tone. Carter just shook her head and reassured her friend. Though, in the back of her mind, she noted the way Y/n was behaving. The girl wasn’t the same and with all the loss she was experiencing, Carter couldn’t blame her.
TWO YEARS PRIOR
”LANDO!” Y/n screeched from the top of the stairs, running down them so fast she was worried of tripping.
Lando came running to her, concern evident on his face. When they met in the downstairs hallway and she seemed untouched, he cocked his head.
”What’s going on, baby?” He pulled her into his arms, checking the top of her head for any injuries.
”Lan,” She started, but his eyes were already on the object grasped in her palm.
He had felt it poking against his stomach when he leaned forward to look at her scalp and the infamous color of pink at the tip told him what news she was about to give.
His face lifted, “No,”
She nodded with a smile, “I’M PREGNANT!”
He screamed, a girlish one she giggled at, and picked her up, twirling her around. When he set her down, they jumped around together, laughing and yelping out in happiness.
”BABY! THERE’S A BABY!” He yelled before grabbing her face and kissing her sweetly. He poured his love for her into it, wanting her to know how happy he was to share this with her. He wanted to reassure her that he’d be there every step of the way, that he’d love her every step of the way. The softness of his hands on her body and his plump lips enveloping hers told her what he wanted them to.
When they pulled back, his eyes sparkled and he put his hand over her stomach.
Glistening in his eyes, he stared upon the woman that was the rest of his life and rubbed gently over her shirt, “We’re having a kid together.”
She nodded, “We are, Lan.”
His face nuzzled in her hair when he hugged her and whispered, “I’ve never wanted anything more. I love you so much, Y/n.”
PRESENT
”Your love is conditional, Lando. It always has been and it always will be.” Y/n yelled, anger radiating off her as she stared at him.
Lando’s hands clutched his hair, “You’ve never loved me for who I was, Y/n!”
She went quiet, heavily taken aback by his statement. When she came into this conversation, her only goal was to try and address the problems they’d had before everything they went through. She wanted Carter to be right. For their distance to be just grief and pain, for them to have a fighting chance. But, he only met her with hostility and defensiveness. It was bound to escalate, but not to this. Not to what he just accused her of.
Tears found their way down her cheeks, “Lando, I have loved you since the moment we met. I have loved you for you, not your money or your status. I have loved every part of you with truth and honesty. I have not put six years of my life into you based on a superficial love. You were my everything, Lan.” She got quiet, “I’ve defended you even when you were wrong, celebrated you even when you failed, cheered you on when you didn’t believe in yourself, pulled you back up when you’d fallen down. I have given my life to you. Don’t you dare look at me and tell me I never loved you for who you were. That was all I ever did. You wanted me to move to Monaco, albeit with some hesitance, I did. You wanted me to quit my job so I could come to every race, I was there. You didn’t want to get married, but I did, so we didn’t. You wanted a baby, I did too, and I gave that to you. I’m sorry if my failure in growing her has made you think I don’t love you for you, but some things I just can’t fucking control.”
By the end of her words, she was choking it all out, sobs emitting from her and pain the only thing she could communicate. Her last few sentences were said with screams, right in his face to try and make him hear her.
Hear her, he did, but he produced no response as he stared at her blankly.
Even as she pleaded for him, he couldn’t deliver.
“Fuck you, Lando.” She yelled before walking upstairs and slamming the bedroom door shut.
ONE YEAR EARLIER
”I love you, Lan.” Y/n whispered, his hand clutched in hers as they sat in the examination room.
He smiled at her, his dimples not appearing, “I love you too, Y/n.”
They stared at each other, stress and fear etched into the lines of their faces when the doctor walked in.
The somber look on his face made Y/n sit up, “No,”
He sat down, “Unfortunately, the baby didn’t make it. I am so very sorry for your loss. There was a problem with the-”
”What?” Lando whispered, his grip on Y/n’s hand loosening.
She looked at him as his finger slipped from hers, but he refused to look at her.
“No.” He said, adamant his worst nightmare wasn’t coming true. He stood from his chair, tears in his eyes, before storming out.
The first door slam of many.
Y/n laid still on the table, a hand over her bump and tears down her face, completely abandoned by the man who was supposed to be in this with her.
“I’m sorry about him,” She took a breath, “We really wanted to meet her.”
The doctor smiled softly, “Do you mind if I ask what you were going to name her? Sometimes, in situations like these, I find it’s best to refer to the child by their name rather than something else.”
She shook her head, “I don’t mind.” Her eyes drifted to the door, wishing for Lando to come back so they could utter the name of their daughter together, but he didn’t show.
Tears streamed from her face when she whispered, “Olive.”
The doctor smiled, “What a lovely name.”
The air of the room shifted when the man set down his clipboard, rolling his chair closer and rubbing his forehead.
”Now, we have to discuss the options of stillbirth.”
She was expected to be strong, to talk about what she was most comfortable with when birthing a daughter she would never get to see prosper.
Maybe she could’ve been strong had Lando been by her side like he promised. But he was nowhere to be found.
And that made her hate him.
ONE YEAR EARLIER
The couple stared at the assembly of rocks shoved in the dirt of their backyard, a formation of a heart staring back at them. The memorial of their daughter was the last thing they had which tied themselves to her. Lando stood feet away from Y/n, not having touched her in the week after the news and the birth.
He had been there with her, but mentally, she knew he was somewhere else. Part of her understood, she would’ve mentally placed herself some place else had she not been having to focus on pushing, but she also loathed him for not stepping up and being with her like he had promised.
Part of her didn’t want him to touch her, but the other part wished for him to show any kind of sign of attraction toward her. She felt unwanted and worthless in the eyes of the man that once made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the entire world. The destruction of them laid before them, staring at them so innocently.
Her daughter. Their daughter. The little her and him that was supposed to be drawing on the walls and dropping food on the floor stared back at them in the form of rocks and dirt.
She reached for his hand, it wet from the tears she had been wiping away, but he just jerked his body away and retreated back into the house.
Maybe that was the moment where they genuinely died.
PRESENT
The one year anniversary of Olive and her memory only brought Y/n the same amount of pain it did a year ago. She had anticipated that. This was her daughter. A whole in her heart would always be there in the shape of Olive.
It didn’t matter that it was raining or how cold the day was, Y/n was going to push herself to step outside and visit the rocks her and Lando had planted there all those months ago in an effort to reconcile the pain that harbored within their bodies.
She found the dirt patch and sat in front of it, mud soaking her jeans and water soaking her hair. She felt alive in the midst of the rain, the most she had since it happened, and she laughed.
“Funny how you killed me, but you make me feel alive today.” She whispered, staring at the heart intensely.
She breathed, “I hope you don’t think I hate you. For a moment there, I thought I did. I hate to say it out loud, but I really thought I did. I thought I hated you because I blamed Lando and I’s problems on you. I blamed my pain on you. You brought so much happiness into this home, but you brought so much pain and even after a year, I still don’t know how to deal with it. But, I know now that that was just the grief talking. I never hated you, I just loved you so much and losing you was one of the worst things that has ever happened to me. Living without you, even though I never knew you, has been the greatest challenge of my life. Your father, I hope he’s found some sort of peace in all of this. No matter how much he’s hurt me, not shown up, he deserves so much. I hate that you never got to meet him, know him, be loved by him. It’s an experience, I’ll tell you that. It’s chaos and it’s sometimes anger or sadness, but it’s love and it’s deep love. When you’re loved by your father, and you were, it’s beautiful. If there’s anything I could wish for, it would be for you to be here and be able to describe to someone, like I can, how amazing it feels to be loved the way your Dad loves.”
”Really?” Lando whispered from behind her, his broken voice striking a part of her she forgot was there.
She turned around, looking up at him and smiling softly, “Yeah,”
Lando sat down next to her, the two leaning into each other in the coldness of the rain. Their shoulders touched and it brought electricity throughout Y/n’s body, the first time their bodies had met in a while. Whether it was because he was cold or he craved her like she did, Y/n didn’t know.
“I hate that she never got to experience what it was like to be loved by you.” He murmured from beside her, staring at the rocks like she was.
Y/n softened, “What happened to us, Lan?”
He sighed, “Y/n, you were never a failure because Olive died before we could meet her. I never thought you failed.”
She was getting sick of crying, “But, you left me, Lan. You left me on that table, you left me in this house, you left me by myself, you left me with the memory of her. You left me alone when I needed you most. You never touched me, never looked at me. I know we could’ve been something with her. We would’ve been great parents. That hurts the most. There was so much potential for immense happiness, but it was just taken so fast. I could be a good mother, Lan, and I want to be your wife, but you didn’t show up for me.”
The sound of her sobs broke his heart and he finally let his body succumb to its desires to feel her warmth against his. He lightly let his hand fall over hers, checking to make sure his touch was wanted. When she didn’t fight back, he let their fingers tangle together.
”I knew you would be a good mother. I know you will be. That was never it. I was ashamed of myself. I had felt like I had forced this child on you and now it was like I was forcing you to go through the pain of losing a daughter because of it. I hated looking at you, touching you because it hurt to let my mind wander to its idea that I was the reason you were crying every night and a shell of who you once were. I wanted to fight my love for you because it just made me so angry. I felt like I had ruined the life we were so excited to lead. I had destroyed our hope and destroyed the wants we had for this house. I just couldn’t come to terms with it all without blaming myself and I pushed you away in the process. I hate myself for that, Y/n.” He stated with force. She could tell he was determined to right his wrongs.
She leaned her head on his shoulder, “But, what about not wanting to get married? How come I wasn’t enough to want to marry?”
He shook his head, “That was never it. You were always enough. I just didn’t want you to be permanently tied to me unless you wanted to leave me. I’m always gone and traveling. I’m not a stable boyfriend and you deserve one. I can’t give that to you. I didn’t want you to be officially associated with me in case you woke up one day and decided to find something better.”
Y/n turned to look at him, their teary eyes meeting each other without malice for the first time in a long time, “How come you would think I would ever want to leave you? Plus, a baby? Lan, that would’ve tied me to you forever.”
He nodded, “But, not officially. We could coparent and you could walk whenever you chose. If you walked out, you wouldn’t be faced with mounds of paperwork and custody battles over a kid we both grew. I wanted you to have the option.”
”But I never wanted the option. I still don’t want the option.” She said, her voice firm and knowing.
Lando’s eyes lit up, “You still want to be with me? Even after everything I put you through?”
Y/n’s eyes erupted in fury, “Lando! I love you! I always have and I always will! I wanted Olive with you and I wanted a life with you! Stop, I’m begging you, stop sabotaging us with your fears!”
He smiled at her, his dimples appearing and making her heart soar, and she just huffed, “What?”
He chuckled softly, “I just never expected to be happy you were getting mad at me.”
At his confession, Y/n’s stern demeanor lessened and she caught a glimpse of the man he used to be. Maybe they just needed each other to find who they once were.
Her hand in his, he whispered once more, “I’m sorry for accusing you of not loving me for who I am. That was completely untrue. I’ve never felt as loved by anyone than by you and I’m sorry for suggesting you use Olive’s bathroom to get ready for bed. I knew it was wrong the moment I said it. I’ve fucked up so many times, Y/n. I’ve hurt you so much and I’ve failed you so much. I’m so sorry. I love you so much and I can’t believe I fell short when it was tested. I’ll never let it happen again. Let me show you.”
She nodded, her head falling into the crook of his neck as his arms found her waist, “I’ll let you show me. We’ll be okay and we’ll get through it. I know it now. We’ll overcome this. We have each other, that’s all that matters.”
He pulled back for a moment to kiss her, find her lips when he hadn’t for so long. When they met, the cold water dripping around them, their love was cemented once more. There were still things to talk through, work through, but they stopped deciding to try and do it alone. They had each other, they depended on each other. That was okay.
He slumped back when they separated, in a moment of pure bliss, and her body fell further into him. Completely cradled by him, Lando stared at the small note that Olive’s name was written on, having been put there by Y/n the year prior.
They missed her, they always would, but in front of her memorial, they found each other again. In front of her remembrance, Lando and Y/n were reminded of how much they used to love each other. They allowed their walls to fall and returned to each other in front of their daughter. In a solid and warm embrace, they knew a future together was not over or out of reach.
In fact, it was just beginning.
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris fic#lando smut#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris edit#lando norris blurb#lando norris fanfiction#lando norizz#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 fluff#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you
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game for two
✱ husband!bc × gn!reader
— guess who just got his old yearbook in the mail?
w.count → 0.8k
genre → fluff, married life!au, non-idol!chan
warnings → minor cussing (light hearted context), chan referred to as chris
coming home from work, you’re usually greeted with one of the following—an empty house, a soft reverberating beat from the small, cozy studio located at one end of your home, or a soft snore while some romance movie thickens its plot on the screen of your neatly mounted tv.
a view of your husband with a stack of books on his lap, however, was not exactly something you would ever have in your bingo card.
“whatcha up to?” became your follow up question after chris’ quick how-was-your-day debrief. it didn’t take you long before promptly securing the spot next to your husband, where he—judging from the way your ivory-colored couch emanates heat—had been hanging around on for quite some time now. “i don’t think i’ve seen those books before.”
“mm, just got them in the mail today,” chris hummed, an arm swiftly encaged your figure as he attempts wrap you in his warmth, “mum and dad found these in the attic while they were clearing out the house. thought would be better to keep these here than to fill up space in their new home.”
it only took you a second to realize what kind of book your husband has been flipping through when a familiar-yet-way-younger-looking dimpled smile came into view, eternally captured in the printed sheet. “oh! baby chris!”
“good lord,” a chuckle ignited from the depth of his chest, ones that always pair with the soft crinkles near his eyes and sometimes a nuzzle to your hair when he couldn’t stand the adoration bubbling in his heart, “i was an angsty, moody teenager there, not a baby.”
“sure, whatever you say, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the word as you stole the perfectly conditioned yearbook from his hands. you’ve seen countless of chris’ teenager years' pictures, sure, but what harm could it bring to have a peek at more?
chris comically let out a sigh as he rolled his eyes—a signature telltale of his attempt to ‘look’ annoyed. “you’d really be in a huge trouble if you call an angsty teenager a baby, you know.”
“i don’t, actually,” eyeing the faint playful glint in chris’ eyes, you decided to lure him into a game. after all, what’s a more fun way to spend your evening than to bicker with your husband? “what would this-” you pointed at his half-heartedly grinning self of the past, “-angsty teenager do if teenager me called him a baby?”
another set of chuckles escapes him—ones louder, which, more often than not, indicates his approval of the arena you’ve built.
he’s in the game.
“well, for starters,” chris tilted his head, quite obviously setting himself to get a full view of your reaction just by gauging the godawfully attractive smirk he got etched on his lips, “i’d probably…”
“…probably?”
his way of building suspense will one day definitely be the death of you. really. if you were honest to yourself, you would actually rather kiss that damned smirk off his face right now—but the game has just started, and you’d hate to lose to your husband on your own little trick.
only… would he even let you win?
“well…” shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, chris continued,
”i’d probably tell you to fuck off.”
the way your grin transformed into a face of utter disbelief was enough of a trigger to fill the room with echoes of chris’ laugh, filling the space with the kind of warmth you’ve only known after you met him. for now, however, you feel like you’ve been betrayed.
“that’s rude!” you huffed, incredulous. though arms are now completely folded in front of your chest, chris knew you’d still let him push more of your buttons; otherwise, why would you still melt into him?
“i’m your future wife! how could you tell me to fuck off?”
“in his defense, he didn’t know that!” he countered, wiping a stray tear which had involuntarily escaped while he was celebrating his first strike. "he was just a kid who thought the world in general was a mean ol' crone, so he just, you know, returned the energy."
"meeting you, however," setting his yearbooks aside, chris then took the chance to entrap you in his arms, "has changed my view about the world—for the better—and i owe you my life for that."
you've been speculating that there's something going on about chris' voice—is he a siren? or is he actually a highly skilled mage? how is it that his voice alone has never failed to untangle every single jumbled up knots under your skin?
or maybe, just maybe, the problem is you—because unknowingly, somewhere along the way, chris had long become your achilles heels.
"...shut up, christopher."
"aw- look at your ear! they're burning!"
"shut up!"
"heh- i love you too, baby."
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#bang chan fluff#bang chan x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#chan x reader#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#bang chan x you#skz x you#stray kids x you#bang chan imagines#bang chan scenarios#bang chan fanfic#skz au#stray kids au#bang chan au#isa's fics
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~ Childhood Sweethearts ~
[part 3/?]
Leon S. Kennedy x bestie!Reader
PART 1 | PART 2
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roomates, pining, slow burn, eventual romance, eventual smut, reminiscing childhood memories
series synopsis: You and Leon have been friends sine you can remember. You've always been there for him, especially through the bad times. He's in a bad place again and he needs you. You're the only light in his pretty dark life.
word count: 5k.
A smile lingered on your lips as you turned the corner and made your way to the kitchen. You could feel a newfound sense of joy pervading you at the memory of the excitement so plainly written all over Leon’s face when you agreed to let him move in with you. He did always look like a puppy when happy and you were sure that if you had squinted hard enough you could have seen his tail wagging enthusiastically back and forth.
“Heh”. You shook your head at the silly image, letting out a quiet giggle as you moved swiftly from one cupboard to another to get everything you needed to make breakfast.
He had never been able to mask his happiness, that much was true. Not when he was a child, not when he grew up. He could disguise any other emotion if he wanted to, and make it so hard for anyone to read him - sometimes you included - but he was so utterly incapable of masking his happiness. You’ve always wondered why…
With a sigh you grabbed a tablespoon, put some coffee into the filter, added water and then leaned against the counter to watch the brewing start. A frown slowly crept over your features.
Perhaps… The answer was less complex than you might have thought.
Aside from the shared joyful recollections of your childhood years, there had never been much good going on in his life, even back then. There was no denying it: discovering that your parents are criminals, witnessing their murder, and becoming an orphan all at once couldn't be a healthy foundation for a happy life. As a result, when those rare instances of happiness do occur, they trigger such genuine and overwhelming emotions that one cannot manage to contain them. That must be the explanation.
Your fingers tightened around the edge of the counter as a vivid and powerful memory resurfaced to your mind.
One of that day. The day he was nearly taken away from you for the very first time.
You could still recall Leon’s blank face when your dad, a police officer at the time and the very one who had saved his life, brought him to your house to leave him in the care of your mother for a short while. You had no idea what had happened that day, you couldn't even imagine the trauma he had just gone through... But the instant you saw him, you could sense something was off, something was different. You dashed towards him and hugged him so tightly, only God knows for how long. And you were certain, even if you didn't realize it at the time, that he was quietly crying on your shoulder as he held you back. Yet, the image that had really carved its place in your mind and that you recalled the most vividly was how Leon pulled back from the hug and just… smiled. He smiled at you as if he was the happiest kid in the entire world. And you smiled right back at him.
Hell. That memory always did bring back chills, every goddamn time…
“Sleeping with your eyes open?”
Leon’s voice caught you off guard and you glanced briefly up at him to see him enter the kitchen with a spring in his step, before you hastily turned your back and blinked the tears away.
“Ha. Ha. I’m making you coffee, you should sound more grateful, you know?” you quipped back with a playful innuendo, hopefully masking the emotional trip you had just gone through in your head.
You busied yourself by staring down at the machine as if it would start brewing faster if you put pressure on it. You didn’t hear the rustle of clothes drawing nearer until Leon was standing right behind you, poking his head right over your shoulder.
You don't know what it was; the whole pot of coffee you drank to stay awake all night, the fact that you hadn't shut an eye in 24 hours, or the way that he was standing so close to you with his warm body literally pressing on your back... but your nerves suddenly gave up and you flinched hard, almost knocking the coffee machine off the counter.
Leon promptly grabbed your shoulders to keep you steady, and even if you didn't look straight up at him out of embarrassment, you could tell he was concerned.
"Hey, I can handle it myself. There's no reason for you to stay up any longer."
His palms were so warm against your bare skin, his touch so comforting and familiar... The urge to simply lean into him and feel his soothing warmth was so strong, nearly unbearable.
But, luckily, the machine beeped right then, and the brewing came to a halt, along with that awkward interlude you got caught up in. With a shake of your head, you took the bowl and focused on filling the Hello Kitty $1-deal mug you had purchased months ago but had never used; it was the only one you owned besides yours, so Leon would have to make do with it.
“You’re technically still a guest here, aren’t you?” you glanced up at him with a half-grin, grabbing the mug with both of your hands - just in case - and turned around to set it on the table. "So let me be the lady of the house and go sit your ass on that chair."
Leon shook his head with a silent chuckle and followed your orders opting for no rebutting, yet he couldn't pass up the opportunity to mockingly throw you a military salute.
“Yes, m’am.”
You gave him a pointed look, although the little smile playing on your lips sniffed out the playful nature of it. Turning your back on him again you grabbed the tray you had previously stuffed with all you could offer him for breakfast and placed it right in the center of the table.
“Bossy as usual, huh? Even when you’re about to collapse, you’re still hard as ever to reason with.”
You could catch the affectionate hint in his voice and you couldn’t help but huff a chuckle through your nose. Once you grabbed the gallon of milk and a cup, you dropped on the chair opposite his and let out a long tired yawn.
“Especially when I’m about to collapse.” you eventually retorted, pointing the tip of your spoon at him as if you had just reminded him of a well-known fact before you smiled and nodded at the tray.
“C’mon, dig in.”
“I just want to make one thing straight-” he started and you glanced up from your half-filled cup of milk, taken aback by the sudden grave tone in his voice. He made sure to give you a long and meaningful look before he added: “I am grateful. For everything.”
You matched his expression, your stomach fluttering under the intensity of his gaze.
“I know.” you simply answered, no humor or mocking tainting your voice this time.
Leon gave you a firm nod in return and then finally dug in his breakfast.
You joined him right away, grabbing some cookies, soaking them in the milk and shoving them in your mouth before they could flop and melt. All the while you kept on peering up at your friend, finding solace in the way he seemed to enjoy the food, munching and sipping with gusto as if he hadn’t had a nice meal in days. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was indeed the case.
“Mmm, this croissant is great!” he announced, giving it another good bite. “You made it?”
You almost snorted the milk straight out of your nose.
“Me??” Your eyebrows shot comically up to your hairline. You must have had such a weirded out look on your face that Leon couldn’t help but chortle and look away to avoid choking on his mouthful. “‘Sorry I burned the cake I made for your birthday and never tried baking ever since’, little ol’ me???”
You too tried to bite back a laugh as you watched Leon struggle to swallow the food and answer.
“You were like 14…”
“Yeah and I’m still 14 in that regard. Me and baking it’s a no-no.” you quipped back, throwing him a sharp look that said ‘believe me, you don’t wanna know’. “The only thing I did to those croissants was stuffing them with nut cream.”
“Ah! That!” Leon animatedly wiggled his finger at you and nodded knowingly. “Yeees. That’s what it is, then. You stuffed it juuust right. And that’s a skill!”
You stared at him long and hard, a deadpan look on your face, until you couldn't keep it together any longer and burst out laughing.
“What a fucking dork!”
Leon seemed pleased with your reaction and grinned triumphantly at you. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched your laughter ease into a big smile.
“A veeery grateful dork who appreciates the efforts taken in putting together this breakfast.”
"Yeah. Yeah." You brushed off his attempt at flattery with a flick of your hand and resumed eating, although not before belting out another chuckle. “Kudos for trying, soon-to-be roomie. It won’t save you from all the future dish duty, though.”
You glanced up again mid-bite when you realized he was still staring at you. Your brows arched in an inquisitive look.
"What?"
“That sound…”
He smiled as your head tilted to the side in a perplexed twitch.
"Your laugh. I missed that."
"Ah."
You had to look away, afraid that the way his words had made your heart race would somehow show on your face. Sometimes your friend would say such touching things with such stark bluntness that you didn't know how to react. Especially without making it obvious how smitten you were with him.
“I haven’t heard it in a while.”
You grabbed your cup of milk and chugged it down in one big gulp merely to buy some time for your heartbeat to ease down.
“Well, you’ve been away for a while.” You eventually replied with a casual shrug and leaned back in your seat, arms lazily crossed over your chest. You focused your gaze on him, your expression turning a bit more serious. “Extra top secret mission?”
He just nodded, a dark look clouding his sparkling eyes and you knew not to ask any further questions. He wouldn’t have told you anything about it anyway.
“The point is…” he started again and the clouds instantly faded back into a serene blue sky. “It brings back good memories. I've been thinking a lot about those recently."
You softly hummed along, your eyes roaming over his face as those heartwrenching words he had uttered earlier, made their way back to your mind.
“I wish we could go back to the good days” he had said, “I wish it was always just you and me”, “ I wish that you were there for me all the time.”
You could feel your chest grow heavy all over again at the memory of a distraught Leon whispering those heartfelt words to you and you had to force yourself to take a long, deep breath to regain some control over your body. You hadn’t had a minute alone since that serious and profound conversation you had with him, a moment to process it, digest it, take in all the very serious implications behind it. And thinking about it now, with your body working on energy saving and Leon seemingly feeling better, it wasn’t really the best of times.
But… There was also something else that had kept swirling in your mind since you heard it escape his lips the night before. Something you just couldn’t shake off, no matter how hard you tried. You couldn't help but think that that very soft-spoken “I love you” he had whispered before passing out had sounded so genuine… As if he had truly meant it… And not in a platonic way.
Was it too pathetically delusional of you to hope he had truly meant it?
“Y/N?”
Leon’s warm voice ripped you out of your thoughts and you hastily focused back on him.
“Hm?”
You were relieved to see the understanding look he gave you. You had been awake for a whole day now, you could be excused for zoning out for a moment without raising questions, after all.
“I asked you if… if you frequently think back to those times, too? To when we were kids, especially.”
“Of course I do. Everyday.” you admitted without hesitation, eyes widening slightly at how easily the words flowed from your mouth. Perhaps you had been too honest about it? Leon looked startled as well.
No, actually… He seemed relieved by how direct and sincere your answer had been.
He leaned back in his chair with a soft sigh, his eyes drawn to the tray in front of him. As his gaze grew distant, you dreaded what was about to come. Was he going to pour his heart out yet again, come up with some more gut-wrenching stuff that would most likely deliver the ultimate blow and send you K.O.? You would not withstand one more confession like the ones he had made already.
Instead, you watched with a flutter in your chest as his lips curled up even further until a genuine smile bloomed on his face. His eyes twinkled with such vitality. That. That was a rare sight… and the most precious one to witness. You felt blessed and lucky to have seen it more than anyone else.
"The cookies," he began, tipping his chin towards the serving plate of goodies. "They resemble those your mother used to make almost every day. I still remember that scent..."
He plucked one from the plate and brought it up to his nose to sniff it, as if he seeked to revisit that same aroma again. You grinned knowingly as his eyes widened and his entire face lit up with recognition. He looked at you with a silent query in his blue eyes, and you nodded, a cheeky grin spreading on your face.
“Yep. Mom made them. I’m quite honestly impressed you could still smell it on ‘em since they’re more than a week old. You have a bloodhound’ nose, I swear.”
“Heh. Comes with the job.”
“Huh-huh.”
No. It did not come with the job. He was born with it. You had seen it, and you remembered one time clearly when he had so blatantly made a show of it. You had spent the entire afternoon with a classmate, a nerdy boy who was forced to assist you with your math homework because you had been struggling that year. That same evening, when you met with Leon to play, he smelled that boy's scent on you, as if you had bathed in it. He appeared to be really upset about it. He sulked and moped and whined about it basically the entire time. That one memory always came back with a thrill of satisfaction buzzing within you. Leon had made such an uproar out of jealousy, that much had been obvious even to a very giddy 8-year-old you.
When you returned to the present conversation with Leon, you realized with a smile that he was still reminiscing about all the times you devoured those exact cookies for breakfast whenever he was at your place. You too remembered. You ate breakfast together at least twice a week. It helped to be neighbors on the outskirts; you could spend time together every day, multiple times a day, and you would always meet at your house, since his parents would leave Leon alone quite frequently. Much too frequently; at the time you still didn't know why.
“-you ate them every day and yet whenever I had breakfast with you, you would always steal one of mine. Sometimes even two.”
You caught Leon throwing you a playful glare as he hit you with that nostalgic jab and you couldn’t help but giggle, a sly glint passing across your eyes.
It was true. You used to do that. But in your defense, you were a young, shy girl with a major crush on her best friend. It was always meant to be a very innocent way to grab your friend’s attention. Even then, all you ever wanted was to have his blue eyes trained on you at every waking moment.
With Leon gazing down at the crusty pastry, seemingly lost in one of his reveries, you felt that it might be fun to relive that one memory just for the thrill of it. Leaning forward, with one quick flick of your hand you grasped the cookie right out of his fingers. The outraged gasp that he rewarded you with definitely made the childish deed worth it. But it was that look, that fond look he gave you that felt like the real reward.
“Like the good old times, huh?” You winked at him and bit back your silly grin as you popped the cookie into your mouth.
He shook his head, his lips pursed in a mocking, unimpressed grimace.
“Some people never change.”
And yet, he sounded pleased with it. There was something in his warm, humorless tone, in the way his sparkling eyes lingered on you as he said that, that caused your insides to flip and turn not once, but twice, with your heart missing a beat as well just because it didn't want to lose out on the fun.
You held his gaze for a few moments as you chewed on the cookie, until you felt your heart beg you to look away.
"Anyway…" You swallowed and cleared your throat, lazily settling back in your seat. Another yawn escaped you just as you reverted your focus on him, and you thought you caught him beaming affectionately at the sight. For your own sake, you decided to brush it off. “Now that you’re back, you should go pay my folks a visit. You know how my mom is. She’d bake you some of those cookies before you even have time to say hello. She'll give you a bag or two to bring home, too.”
“Hm. It’s been quite a while since I last saw them…” He hummed and nodded along, a pensive look on his face. “We could go together.”
“I g-guess, yeah…” you shrugged your shoulders and tried to mask the sudden raspiness of your voice by clearing your throat again. You hadn’t visited your parents together since that last lunch you had a couple of years ago at their house, when it really dawned on you just how serious your feelings for Leon were. You remembered that moment clearly, as if it had happened yesterday. Your friend was chatting amicably with your dad, making your old man laugh just as he always did. Your mom had that serene look on her face, that one she always seemed to have whenever Leon was around. And you? You were looking at the scene, taking in that precious image of a happy little family, soaking in the genuine love that oozed from each one of them… and your weak heart nearly combusted right then and there. You made a pledge to yourself that day: Leon or nobody. Because there was no one like him, really. No one that could make your dad so genuinely happy or your mother feel so safe and at ease. No one that would make your heart beat so violently in your chest. So you’d rather live your life with no partner at all than settle for someone who wasn’t him.
You just needed to find the courage to tell him.
If only you weren’t such a big coward.
“But… since you’re moving in with me, you’ll probably see them soon enough.” you stated, trying to tune back into the conversation as if you hadn’t just gone on a mental tangent that had left your mind reeling and your heart aching. “You know, they have started to come visit me once or twice every month.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, but they don’t stay overnight or anything.” you swiftly explained. Your tone took up a hint of humor as you added, “You won’t have to share one bed in three, don’t you worry.”
“Oh, I would leave the guest room to them anyway. I’d much rather sleep in your bed. It’s very comfy.” he quipped back with a smirk that made your stomach flip.
“Yeah… Dream on, boy.”
To be honest, you had dreamed of that very same thing happening more times than should be socially accepted. There was no way you’d admit to that, though.
“They just come to say hi, anyway. To make sure I'm doing alright here by myself.” you said, veering the conversation back to a much safer territory. “But I’m quite sure they mainly come to these parts to get a taste of the city life, you know? They've been taking away some whim with dad’s retirement money, living it up a little now that they’re free and old but not that old.'' You paused to share a knowing smile with your friend; you both knew that if your parents had been there, they would have made such a scene over being deemed old. “They like to visit museums and exhibitions, mostly. They look like a cute elderly couple, arm in arm, bickering about the painting's meanings and all that. I know because I chaperoned them the first time.”
Leon listened to you with a fond little smile curling up his lips. Your parents had always been very dear to him for obvious reasons, even more so than your late aunt who had welcomed and taken care of him once he became an orphan and until he left for the police academy in his teens. He was so attached to them that you found yourself worrying more than once if he considered them his parents as well, and you his... younger sister. But you had always tried with all your might to shake the notion away from your mind. You'd get queasy just thinking about it.
“That’s good to hear. They should enjoy their life, now that they can.” He commented, fingers lazily fidgeting with the napkin on the table while he kept his attentive eyes fixed on your face. “We could do that too.”
Mild heart attack.
“Huh? Do… What?”
“Go to museums, exhibitions and whatnot.”
Those words truly made you question whether he wasn't just messing with you, despite the fact that you hadn't picked up on any humor in his voice. Nonetheless, you tried to keep your heartbeat at bay while flashing him a skeptical look.
“But you don’t like any of that.”
"Sure. But you do."
Effortless answer, maximum hit to your heart. He had voiced it with such straightforward frankness that you were left genuinely speechless for a moment.
“I wouldn’t mind going with you.” He added, shrugging his shoulders, as if the answer was so obvious to him that it didn't even need an explanation.
“Huh… Riiight…”
You eyed him curiously, warily even, ready for the punchline he must have been holding back. When none arrived however, your eyes narrowed and your lips pursed in a confused pout. "Have I fallen asleep? Am I sleeping right now? 'Cause that's not something the Leon I know would say." Your tone had a sardonic edge to it, for you were clearly retorting to humor to try to disguise the emotional turmoil he had caused within you with what he had said. Hopefully, it wasn't that evident to him too. “This must be a dream, or something…”
“Eh. Does that mean you dream of me?”
Fuck. You had walked straight into that one. You couldn’t even be mad at him for making your stomach flip like that or for flashing you that smug smirk of his.
With a half-groan, half-grimace, you slapped your hand in the air to ward off his joke and flopped on the table, laying your heavy head on your arms.
“Had a nightmare or two where you showed up, sure.”
That was a lame comeback, you knew it. Of course you knew. But, what else could you have said? You were too preoccupied with hiding your blush from him to come up with a better quip. At that point, you were also struggling to prevent your weary mind from blurting out something far more honest, which would inevitably ruin everything.
God. You truly were just too exhausted. And it wasn't only the sleep-deprived tiredness that was weighing on you, but also the 'I have to double-check every word I say and every little reaction I make so that my best friend doesn't realize I'm in love with him' load that was draining you. And to think this was only the first day of living together…
Well, actually not even the first day. You could only imagine what it would be like to go through this every day, for who knows how long. There was no way you could survive it...
You were too caught up in the webs that were plaguing your mind to register the strong pair of hands grabbing you by the middle before you were tugged out of your chair and lifted into the air.
When a shocked gasp escaped your lips, you were already securely enveloped by two massive arms as solid as steel.
Oh, you were certain. You were absolutely certain that your face resembled a tomato as you raised your wide eyes and met his lazy smile, given that you could feel your cheeks burning.
“The fuck-?!”
Leon snorted at your reaction, his eyes traveling across your face as if to enjoy your flustered state. "I thought you fell asleep," he joked, blatantly lying as he squeezed you playfully and started carrying you out of the kitchen toward your bedroom.
“Leon, god… really?”
That was so unnecessarily extra of him. He did that on purpose, obviously. As he had always done in the past. In fact, after his first year at the academy, he began to pick you up out of nowhere to flaunt off his buff and strong physique, and it only worsened over time. He would lift you up whenever and wherever he wanted, simply to annoy you... and make your stomach do a somersault.
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t always enjoy when I did this.”
“I always despised it with my whole being.”
Lie. Biggest lie you could tell. But then again, telling him that you adored how his large and muscular arms swallowed your frame, keeping you snug against his chest and carrying you effortlessly about, or how every freaking time he did that, he caused those stupid butterflies to wreak havoc in your gut, was definitely out of question.
"Huh-huh."
He smirked knowingly, seeing right through your snarky response. The amused glance he threw you compelled you to simply shut your mouth. At that point, you didn’t trust your voice anymore.
You tried to refrain from plainly staring at him the entire time. To not linger on his chiseled jaw, or admire his rosy lips, or the way they curled up in that familiar languid smile. You tried not to marvel at his focused gaze or his long eyelashes which made his eyes look even prettier from below…
You tried. But it was hard. Hard not to be dazzled by his effortless beauty, especially when his face had moved suddenly so close to yours, you could feel his hot breath blowing on your cheek.
You were locked in a daze as he eased you out of his arms and onto your bed. You couldn't tear your gaze away from him, even as he grabbed the blankets and tucked you in, ensuring you were well covered and comfy.
When your eyes met, you felt one of those all-too-familiar thrills rush through every cell of your body.
Oh, you were about to lose it. To do something crazy, something stupid…
Your breath caught when he leaned in again, his fingertips gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling.
“Sleep tight, cookie.”
There was no way you could hold back the genuine grin that bloomed on your face upon hearing the nickname he chose to use. You had been calling each other in every way possible since you were kids; it was one of your favorite pastimes. ‘Cookie’ was a nice addition to the collection.
"Thanks, pup." you quipped back, eyes flashing with amusement and pure affection. "You gonna guard the house while I take a nap, yeah?"
"Like a good boy."
"Mhmm."
You exchanged one last lingering look that almost made you melt in a puddle - and you were glad you were already lying down because your knees couldn't have taken it - before he drew back and headed to the door.
"Dream of me." he teased you as he stood by the entrance, triggering a loud groan from you.
"Shut up-"
You rolled onto your side and hid your face in the pillow as he chuckled softly at your expense. You did not raise your head until you heard the door close. Only then did you let out a long, shaken breath. You could still feel your face burning, your cheeks warm to the touch, and your heart racing in your chest.
What a crazy day! And it wasn't over yet. You were both thrilled and nervous about waking up and spending more time with Leon. You'd need to help him move in, clear his room of your belongings, have a very serious roomie to roomie talk...
But everything would have to wait. Sleep was catching up with you and you had evaded it long enough. The coziness of your bed, along with the pleasant fuzziness still lingering in your chest caused your eyes to grow heavy within seconds. With a yawn, you rolled to the other side, where the sheets from the night prior remained unmade. Your hand lazily clutched the other pillow and pulled it closer.
His scent. It still carried his scent… You nuzzled your cheek into the fabric and took a long breath.
A fond smile tugged at your lips as your eyelids fluttered closed and you dozed off.
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#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x y/n#leon s kennedy x reader#friends to lovers#resident evil#resident evil x reader#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy fanfic#fanfictions#leon scott kennedy x reader#my writing#re4 leon
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DBD Random Hc #2
General
Obsessions are always given the green light to escape by any means.
Entity purposefully fucks with both sides to heighten tensions. Causes food shortages, droughts, or purposefully triggers killers.
The Entity is unable to create a place or environment without drawing inspiration the real world. It just simply isn’t creative enough.
The Enitiy only takes talented/ interesting survivors who would’ve made an impact on the world. Dwight was accidentally taken.
Ironically, Dwight is who rallies the Survivors and causes the eventually down fall of the Entity.
Leading up to the downfall, Dwight would have to befriend and earn the loyalty of every survivor. ( I would honestly play a tell-tale game like this)
If Evan’s spirit wasn’t broken, he’d start a killer led rebellion.
The more loyal a killer is, better conditions are given. Food, mori’s, and sentimental items to name a few.
Killers who need to be tortured to kill are given the bare minimum.
I personally don’t agree with “ survivors losing their memory post-trial” canon. If they can’t remember, how exactly does that generate the fear or hope the Entity needs to survive? In addition, lost of memory would include not knowing how to do generators, how to counter certain killers, or how trials in general work. You’re seriously telling me a gambler and botanist who’s never left the house knows complex machinery like that?
Survivors 🔥✊
David isn’t out to the group. Scared he’ll be ostracized or purposefully thrown under the bus during trials.
Some of the more self-interested survivors tend to be less thought of in trails. Ace realized he was more likely to be left behind and started doing more for the team, Élodie took it as another reason not to rely on others, and Yun-Jin throws hissy fits because “why didn’t THEY bother to save her.”
Slowly learning each other’s language. Translating for each other is a doozy and often ends up miscommunicated. Hence, why they only point and motion towards themselves in trails. Ain’t no one got time to remember “Come help me with this generator” in Japanese. 😤
On that note, I think the pariahs communicated with broken English and simple gestures that they collectively knew.
Steve likes to pull the “I’m technically older than you” on modern survivors who chastise him.
Survivors eat community, volume meals. It’s a chore no-one likes to do and is assigned day-to-day. If they ever got a chef or cook survivor, that responsibility would be gladly passed to them.
Adam enjoys teaching and educating the younger survivors on little tib-bits. In addition, he will almost always have their back in trails and personal see that they live through it.
“ …and that’s why ‘No Longer Human” was greatly impactful on Japanese culture- don’t you roll your eyes at me! 😡”
Felix and Élodie aren’t on speaking terms at the moment. Keeps their prior friendship and knowledge of the Entity hush-hush. Somehow, both know that information getting out won’t look good for them.
Sable definitely had a “NLOG” phase. Cringes when she thinks back on it.
Jake is dyslexic and can only recognize certain words based on the surrounding context (Red STOP! Sign, do not enter sign on a chain link fence, handicap parking with the wheel chair symbol.)
Killers 🔪🩸
Max tunnels police survivors if they are in uniform. Believes ACAB.
HUX is annoyed by the sounds of breathing. And laughter. And blinking. Sometimes stands outside of the camp ground so it can make itselfs mad.
Trickster will sometimes, SOMETIMES let a survivor go if they praise him enough.
Kazan is in deep disbelief about the state of his family legacy. Refuses to believe it was his own doing that caused the curse and often blames history for painting him in a bad light.
Legion rock, paper, scissors for who goes next for a trial.
Had Rin survived the attack, she would’ve broken the family’s curse.
Anna was very scared during her first period ( her mother died way before they could have “the talk”.) Convinced herself it was a deadly disease. As she grew older and stronger, her periods became few and far due to her survivalist nature.
Jeffery is kept on a strict diet regarding his addictions. Only gifted booze, herion, and large amounts of food with good performance.
Danny obsessives over the survivors. Takes pictures in secret and writes news paper stories on their many ‘deaths’.
Onryō will never not be confused by Nic’s “Sadako! Not you!”
#dbd killer#dbd headcanons#dbd trickster#dbd clown#dbd huntress#dbd oni#dbd survivors#dbd ace#dbd Élodie#dwight fairfield#ace visconti#yun jin lee#adam francis#dbd jake park#dbd legion#dbd spirit#dbd trapper#dbd#dead by daylight#dbd ghostface
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Yeah I’m not okay today
#aside from the fact that a lot of ppl are going to die bc of this#something something about lack of control/being forced to undergo extreme suffering and possibly death hitting a bunch of trauma triggers#didn’t realize just how triggering this day would be#though in hindsight maybe I should have#anyway as usual I’m not going to post much about stressful political stuff on here#plenty of people are saying what needs to be said and spreading resources#but it hurts too much to engage right now#and I need this as my safe space#that being said I just want to take a moment and scream#fuck the patriarchy#fuck all the power-hungry old white men who invented this issue and made it such a big thing among the religious right#bc they needed that culture of fear for their own gain#and they couldn’t be as overt with their racism anymore#fuck everyone who thinks women only have worth in childbearing and even then are worth less than the children they carry#fuck this country that allowed misogynistic abusers to sit in the Oval Office and the Supreme Court#fuck the ppl who like my abusers use religion and ppl’s desire to protect and twist it into such enormous harm#there’s a lot more to it than that and a lot more that needs to be said#but that’s all I can say for now#thoughts#politics#feminism#patriarchy#christianity#the trauma tag
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The Ballad Of Dr. Reid
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: When you zone out in the middle of one of your lectures, your professor asks you to stay after class to check in on you.
Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, Professor/Student, age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), minor hand kink, porn with little plot, heated kissing, fingering, spit, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda, right?), reader gets a facial
Word Count: 1.9K
Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance
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You’d always had a liking for criminal justice, so taking the courses in college seemed like a no brainer. You really liked Criminology 1424. It was an interesting class, one that piqued your interest far more than the other classes you were in the process of taking.
In addition to being genuinely interested in the subject, you were more interested in the professor of the class; Dr. Spencer Reid.
He was soft spoken for the most part, a little on the awkward side but that was okay. He was experienced from his fifteen years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and would use cases he’d faced for examples in his lessons. His lectures were long and albeit pretty boring at times but you had no problem watching the man at the front of class talk, his hands emphasizing just how prepared he was for the topic at hand. You’d realized that there were topics he definitely enjoyed getting into, his body language and his overexaggerated gestures being proof of it.
You’d always thought the FBI and the darkness he faced on a near daily basis would exhaust him, make him harder and more stoic, the seriousness of the world on his shoulders. No, instead he offered smiles, helped any student who came to him, and was painfully oblivious to the amount of young men and women auditing the class just to admire the attractive professor.
It was like any other lecture, delving into the intricacies of triggers and what could bring them on. It was a lesson he liked, judging by his animation this evening. You’d done your best to keep up, to get plenty of notes jotted down due to this being on the impending final. However, you were too busy drooling over the curly haired beauty, his veined hands flailing with each word that fell from his lips.
What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your body, to feel the gentle touch of your professor as he was letting his fingertips memorize all the dips and curves of your body, to familiarize himself with how to pleasure you.
His hands on-
“Y/N? Are you alright?”
You were snapped from your thoughts. The sound of your name falling from his mouth was like sweet honey, drizzling over your eardrums as you could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. Great. Now the whole class is looking at you.
“Y-Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry, just, uh, not all the way here today.” You explained, slowly looking back down at the notebook covered in scribbles. So much for getting any work done today.
The class passed by painfully slowly after that. Even the attractive man in front of you didn’t seem to speed up the clock. You’d sat quietly, giving up with the notes aspect as you’d switched to doodling on the edges of your notebook. You’d done your best to try and be one of the first ones out whenever your professor dismissed the class full of students. However your shoulders slumped with defeat when the sea of bodies filed out first.
There was no clean getaway.
“Y/N, do you mind staying back and having a chat?”
Fuck.
Mustering up enough courage to face the man you’d gotten distracted fantasizing about, you were approaching his desk. Even up close, he was a beautiful man. Even in his early to mid forties, he still looked delicious. “I apologize for getting distracted earlier. I was just-”
“Looking at me? Y/N,” There was a deep breath that left his lips. “You can tell me if this tie is ugly. My coworker Penelope insisted I wear it. I love her but some of her ties aren’t really my style.”
He was joking, easing the awkwardness and the unknown tension filling the lecture hall. Maybe he’d been feeling the same way about you. He looked at you a lot as is, however you may have just been in a delusional state of mind right now. There was a hope that Spencer would reciprocate those feelings. “It’s not.. It’s a little ugly but that, uh, wasn’t what I was, uh, staring at.” You decided to just be honest. Worst you can do is transfer out of the class.
Or run away to a new city, start over again at a new university.
“Really?”
“Really. Sir, with the risk of coming across as inappropriate, it’s hard to pay attention to you at the front of the class. It’s not a bad thing. You just always look…” You paused and gave him a once over. “Really nice.” You spoke.
There was a blush that spread across the older man’s cheeks, an eyebrow raising. “You think so? At risk of sounding even more inappropriate and unprofessional,” He paused as he leaned forward a bit, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s hard to teach when you come in looking as beautiful as you do. Makes me just wanna stare at you the whole class.”
The words were lower than usual, a rush of warmth going straight to your core from the mere compliment.
“Plus when you come in with a new lipstick shade..” His lanky body was pushing off the desk before he approached, his fingers resting gently under your chin before tilting it upwards. “It drives me insane. You may think I don’t notice but…” This was crossing the boundary of teacher and student, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. “I do. Makes me think of these pretty lips wrapped around me, those eyes glossed over with pleasure.” He hummed, chuckling at the way your breath hitched, eyes locking with his.
You didn’t know what came over you at this point, however you could help yourself as you were launching yourself forward, mouth smashing against his in a quick kiss that he seemed enthusiastic to reciprocate. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling your frame closer to his chest as the kiss filled with desire and hunger was escalating.
The next thing you knew, you were being sat against the desk at the front of the lecture hall, your eyes widening. “H-Hold on, don't you have another class??” She asked immediately as she let her hands squeeze the broad shoulders. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” Spencer responded, hands trailing to the waistband of the pants you were wearing. The thought of having sex in a hall where anyone could walk in at any point was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You weren’t one for exhibitionism normally, however you weren’t gonna turn this down.
“Fuck it.” Your words made a grin spread across Spencer’s face, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while working on getting your pants pulled off, panties following in one swift motion. Licking his hand, the older male didn’t waste any time before moving the wet hand between your legs, his spit working as lube as he wanted to make sure you were wet enough for the deed. Lord knows that he didn’t want you tearing at any point.
The feeling of his fingers brushing against your clit had already sent electricity through your body, a light gasp escaping your lips.
“Such a pretty girl, bet you haven’t ever had any man pay attention to you, huh? I can only imagine you’ve been with selfish little boys who haven’t even attempted to bring you to orgasm..” He sighed playfully, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips once more. He was addicted, drinking in your moans as his thumb was massaging your clit, one finger pushed deep in your weeping hole while he was working you open.
This was definitely something new, you didn’t really sleep around so the few times you’d engaged in casual sex were quick, rushed. You sure as hell knew that the past couple of dudes couldn’t even find your clit. You were intoxicated on his touch the small movements he made eliciting moans and gasps into his mouth. With your hips rolling against the touch, you let your eyes flutter shut.
“As much as I hate to stop, we’ve got fifteen minutes and I’m dying to be inside of you.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving to undo his belt before tugging his pants down his legs, boxers being pulled down soon after. The sight of his hard cock had your full attention. “Ready? You’re sure you want to keep going?”
“Yes!” You rasped, making him chuckle while his large hands were spreading your thighs apart, letting a trail of his spit fall onto your pussy before he was giving himself a few tugs. The thick tip of his shaft was spreading the spit onto your cunt, a hum falling from his lips. So pretty. God, I hate having to crunch time like this.” He groaned while letting the thick head push into your hole, your mouth falling open at the delicious burn that came with the stretch of your inner walls. If only you knew about your professor’s cock sooner.. All the stress of studying for quizzes would’ve been a million times easier.
His hips snapped without warning, a loud moan falling from your mouth while the male couldn’t help but chuckle as he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. Can’t have anyone hearing you.” His hand barely did justice to hide your moans and cries as his hips continued to roughly thrust, the desk rocking steadily with each movement.
“Fuck. It’s like this pussy was made for me, look at the way she takes my cock and is desperate for more. So greedy.” The vulgar words from your otherwise sweet and seemingly innocent man’s mouth was strangely attractive, attractive to a level that your inner walls were spasming around the hard cock nestled deep inside of you, so far you felt like he was hitting your cervix. Then again, you could’ve just been exaggerating.
With your fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders, you could feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so tight that you felt like the floodgates were going to burst open.
“I-I’m gonn-” You stuttered, words muffled against his hand while Spencer nodded.
“I’m almost there. Cum for me.” His words were husky, tone dripping with ecstasy as he let out a low groan.
As your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, the both of you were letting out a mixture of groans, mons and even a few whimpers slipping from the older man’s lips. It was all too much, finally letting the dam break as you were letting your head fall back, mouth agape as your thighs were shaking, your creamy arousal making a ring around his cock.
There was a little whine at the emptiness you felt when his cock wasn’t inside of you, the male opting to gently move you from the desk before putting you on your knees. “Look at you. Fuck. Stick your tongue out for me. Make sure you close your eyes too. I don’t wanna give you any infections.” Even in a huffing and panting mess, he looked out for you.
Doing as you were told, you let your mouth fall open while your eyes fluttered shut, the male groaning at the sight as he roughly fisted at his cock. There was only a few pumps before his cock was twitching, it being his turn for his head to fall back as he was painting your face with his spent. The load was a lot more than you expected.
Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did.
As the act was coming to an end, Spencer was trying to catch his breath while tugging up his pants and boxers. He’d retrieved a few tissues from his desk before leaning down to wipe your face, a light hum leaving his lips. “Maybe you can talk to me about some extra notes you could add to your doodle book. Say over coffee tomorrow morning?”
“Deal.”
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?
— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji
gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)
“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.
the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.
“but if you keep doing that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.
“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”
“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.
“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.
“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”
“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”
gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.
“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t you?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”
gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used that honorific with.
“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“
“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“
“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.
“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.
“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.
he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.
“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”
“that’s rude, toji is—“
“did you think you could change him or something?”
“i— no, why—“
“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.
“gojo, i swear—“
“was it the sex?”
you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.
“jackpot” satoru whispers.
“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.
“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.
“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”
“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.
“you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.
gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.
“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”
“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.
“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”
“no!”
“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.
“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.
“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just wait for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.
“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.
“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.
“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.
“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.
“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”
“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.
“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.
“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”
“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.
“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.
“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.
satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.
“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.
“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.
“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.
“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.
“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”
satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.
he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.
he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—
“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.
“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”
“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.
which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.
when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.
“desk, now” you demand needly.
“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.
you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.
you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.
“ask me” he pleads.
“for what?”
“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.
“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.
gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.
the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.
“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.
“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.
“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.
“unbelievable…”
“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.
“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.
he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.
his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.
“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.
the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.
or was it something else you feared?
“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.
“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”
“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.
“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.
“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.
“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.
“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.
“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.
“you’re not… on anything?”
“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”
“go on” gojo massages your thigh.
“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.
satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.
“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.
all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.
the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.
“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.
he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.
“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.
he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.
“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.
you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.
“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.
you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.
“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.
he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.
god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
if only…
“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.
after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”
“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.
“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.
you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”
“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.
gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.
a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.
gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.
“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.
gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.
“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.
on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.
“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”
“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.
“about… us? of course not.”
“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.
“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”
“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”
“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.
“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”
“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.
“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.
before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.
satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.
he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.
#there’s no part 2 leave me alone#divider by @cafekitsune#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#toji x reader
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Love your baby Leclerc series! ❤️ If you're into the idea, maybe you'd like to write about Charles' little girl being sick and him being all worried and taking care of her? 🥺
my baby | charles leclerc
note: i am not taking requests, i am just posting my drafts
It started in the middle of the night when Ruby woke up Charles. She had her favorite blanket wrapped around her with her bunny slippers on her cold feet. She stood beside Charles, who was snoring. She called his name several times, but he didn’t wake up so she tried poking his arm until he woke up. When that didn’t work, she remembered the story that she overheard the other day about something that Charles had shouted.
“Box! Box!” She raised her voice slightly.
It was like a trigger word for Charles that instantly brought bad memories and anxiety. The driver woke up immediately and saw that his daughter was standing in front of him.
“What time is it?” He wondered as he rubbed his tired eyes.
“I don’t know, but I’m hurting, papa.” Ruby whined.
“What’s wrong, my Ruby Jules?” Charles asked.
“My head is hurting and I’m cold.” She whispered.
Charles pressed his hand against Ruby’s forehead and felt it warm. She was getting a fever and you weren’t home. You were on a trip with Mathéo to your home country to visit your parents. Ruby had school so Charles stayed behind since he had a break from racing.
“You wanna sleep beside papa? I’ll get some medicine so you can feel better.” Charles uncovered himself and stood up from his bed . He took Ruby into his arms and laid her onto his bed then covered her with the blanket.
“Papa, Floppy is alone in my room! He doesn’t like being alone!” Ruby gasped.
“I’ll go get Floppy, just stay here.” Charles said then kissed Ruby’s warm forehead. His first stop was to get medicine from the cabinet in kitchen. He read the directions on the bottle then grabbed a spoon. His next stop was Ruby’s bedroom where he retrieved his daughter’s favorite stuffed bunny named Floppy.
“Floppy!” Ruby called out as Charles made his way back into his room. He carefully set the bunny on the bed for her to grab.
“Time for your medicine, mon amour,” he sat on the edge of the bed as he started to open the bottle of medicine.
“I don’t want that.” Ruby used Floppy to hide her face.
“Ruby Jules, if you want to get better, you have to drink your medicine.” Charles said. Ruby hesitated, but sat up so she could drink from the spoon filled with medicine that her papa had poured.
“Does it taste like candy?” She asked.
“I don’t know, how about you taste it and then tell me.”
So she did, but instantly realized that it did not taste like candy.
“Yuck!” She made a face at her papa wondering why he even bought that disgusting liquid into the house.
“Okay, you did good. Scoot, your papa wants some cuddles.” Charles got under the covers then brought Ruby closer to him.
Morning came and Ruby was still sick. She had a stuffy nose and her fever had gotten worse. She didn’t even feel like getting out of Charles’ bed so when it was breakfast time, he brought a plate of pancakes and fruit to her.
“Papa, it hurts.” Ruby groaned as she hugged Floppy. Charles was starting to question if he should take her to the emergency room. He had texted you early in the morning about Ruby’s condition. You replied that you would get on the next flight to Monaco, but he assured you that he could handle it.
At least he thought he could.
“I know, Ruby, I know,” Charles placed a kiss on her cheek. “You know, grand-mére told me that taking a bath makes you feel better. I’m going to fill the bath, okay?”
“Can you put bubbles and the toys?” She mumbled weakly.
“Anything for you.”
After getting the bath ready with bubbles and toys, Ruby got in. The water made her feel slightly better, but blowing bubbles and playing with rubber ducks with her papa made her smile ten times more.
“Hello mister duck, you look nice today!” Charles tried doing different voices for each duck. “Thank you, little duck!”
“The ducks should have names, papa.” Ruby said.
“You’re right, what should the ducks be called?” Charles asked.
“This one is called Arthur and this one Lorenzo.” Ruby laughed as she pointed to the two ducks that Charles had in his hands.
“I guess that just leaves Charles the duck.” The Ferrari driver grabbed the third duck that was floating in the bubbly water.
“No, papa! His name is Floppy two.” Ruby grabbed the duck from Charles’ hands and played with it.
“Floppy two . . . I guess he can be called that.”
When bath time came to an end, Charles let Ruby get dressed by herself, something she always wanted to do. As Ruby got dressed in her room, Charles prepared dinner for them. Before he could finish the mac and cheese for his daughter, the doorbell rang.
He walked to the front door and opened it revealing his brothers Lorenzo and Arthur, along with Lorenzo’s girlfriend, Charlotte. “Where is my favorite niece?” Arthur asked.
“Hello, Arthur, it’s so nice to see you. I’m doing good, thanks for asking.” Charles rolled his eyes as he let his family in.
“How is Ruby?” Lorenzo asked.
“She’s better. She just took a bath, that definitely helped a lot.” Charles explained.
“Papa! I can’t put my shoe on!” The Leclerc heard Ruby shout. She walked down the stairs with a pink tutu, purple leggings, a Barbie shirt and one shoe on while she held the other in her left hand.
“Interesting choice of clothing, Ruby.” Arthur laughed.
“It’s called fashion and Ruby is a pro at it, Arthur!” Charlotte playfully hit Arthur’s arm. “I’ll help you, Ruby, come on.” Charlotte led the little girl to the living room.
“Yeah, Arthur, it’s called fashion!” Ruby sassed.
Arthur cringed. “She just called me Arthur.”
“That’s your name.” Lorenzo replied.
“Yeah, but she’s my niece. It’s weird hearing it from her.”
#inbox <3#anon#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x you#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#formula 1 x reader#formula one#baby leclerc series
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down on you | jjk
➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader
➥ word count | 4.5k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, hair pulling, standing missionary, rough sex, porn w/ plot, mafia!jk, detective!reader, established relationship, mild angst, mild violence
➥ summary | It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all.
➥ notes | the mafia!jk au no one asked for aka an excuse to write smut w/ feeling lol.
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
On his knees staring down the barrel of a loaded gun with a mouthful of blood, he knows this is the end of the line. He’s going to die like a rat in the gutter - no mercy to be found, loopholes to exploit or bribes to be made.
This is the real deal, and there’s no coming back.
Judgement Day comes in the form of a man with dark eyes and a dangerous smirk: Golden, the deadliest guard dog of the underground.
Credited with dozens of hits, you won’t know he’s there until it’s too late. Trying to keep him pinned is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, or a whisper on the wind.
And you won’t know he’s coming until you feel the breath on the back of your neck, hear the crack of a bullet ringing in your ears.
Belonging to one of the most powerful men in the world: Kim Namjoon, he’s more war machine than man.
“Go ahead, do it!” He spits at Golden’s feet, a mess of blood and drool staining the crisp leather of his combat boots. “Killing me won’t change a goddamn thing.”
A coy smile tugs at Golden’s mouth, his grin all sharp teeth and violence. He stays where he stands, his silhouette haloed by distant streetlights.
Water laps at the docks, the tang of salt heavy in the mid-summer Seoul air. There’s no rush; they both know he’ll be dead and dumped just like all the rest of the garbage in this rotting city.
“Come on, you prick! Pull the fucking trigger already.”
Golden cocks his head, and hums in the back of his throat.
“Tch! I hope you’ve got a lot of bullets - we’re gonna knock the crown off Kim’s head one way or another.”
Golden thumbs at the safety of his gun, the barrel glinting through the shadows. “Ahh, is that what you think?” He shrugs, a lazy ripple of muscle. “Well, I have to say: I’d love to see you try.”
The night is shattered by the resounding crack of a gunshot and an echoing splash of something heavy dropping into the water below.
You climb out of the nondescript government-issue car. The faintest tremble of your fingers nearly gives you away but you’re able to reign in the impulse to smooth your hands over your clothes at the last second.
Showing weakness is the last thing you need to be doing right now.
Especially here.
Right in front of where you’ve parked - shoved between two looming apartment complexes - sits a quaint, vintage building. The rough brick face is at odds with the sleek surroundings, but tinted windows keep prying eyes at bay while the classy signing hanging above the door reads The Red Bullet written in caps.
If you didn’t know better, it would be hard to believe this otherwise mundane storefront is a cover for one of the most dangerous international organizations based out of South Korea.
Not only do they hold the keys to the kingdom, but their success is largely in part because they spearhead operations from government espionage all the way to simple blackmail.
Even though it’s been several months since you darkened its doorstep, the familiar sight is enough to steal the breath from your lungs. Send your heart galloping into a tailspin as your stomach swoops.
While time away helped clear your head of stolen kisses and promises whispered in dark rooms, it also drove the longing bone deep.
In those quiet moments to yourself, when you have nothing else to distract from how lonely you are, you miss this place like one misses a limb.
You didn’t realize how attached you were to these four walls until it was too late: the hazy air filled with whorls of smoke, the overhead lights that bathe everything in red, the plush chairs you spent many nights sprawled across, the glossy black stages.
You don’t know how, you don’t know when but at some point it (he) started feeling like home. A luxury you can’t afford. Not again. After all, if you give in, any progress you made outside of his gravitational pull will be for naught.
Which puts you in a dangerous position as you find yourself back where it began; feelings at war with duty, mind vs heart. Because even if it leads you to a place you could go a million years without ever seeing again, you have to follow the trail of bodies.
A bouncer grants you access, the heavy door slamming shut behind you like a death knell as he herds you towards the back of the club.
It’s outside of official operating hours but it’s no less busy inside, men and women alike in scattered conversation as you pass through.
“It’s nice to see you again,” the bouncer murmurs, chancing a quick glance at your profile. “Been a while.”
You swallow, gaze darting down to your shoes. “Ah - yeah… Got busy with work. It’s - it’s nice to see you too.”
The small talk fizzles out, a snuffed candle as you arrive at a cordoned off room, “Here we are. Mr Kim is already expecting you.”
Any further pleasantries grow stale on your tongue as you enter the private booth, fighting against the lump in your throat to manage a hoarse ‘thank you’.
And then you find yourself left alone with the man himself, Kim Namjoon. He’s as intimidating as you remember, lounging back into the leather booth with his ankles crossed.
A lukewarm smile stretches across his lips, the slightest hint of a dimple peeking out from the valley of his cheek. Standing at attention on either side of his reposing form are two massive bodyguards. Their hands rest on the butts of their guns, daring any who enter to try and make a move.
“It’s good to see you again. But I gotta ask - what’s the occasion, Detective?” Namjoon hums. “I thought we were past all this.” He waves a nebulous hand between your bodies. “After all, you’re practically family.”
You ignore the hidden barb with a wince. “Mr Kim, you know why I’m here.”
“I used to know why a long time ago.” A well-groomed brow raises, his gaze glacial as it spears you in place. “But now I’m not so sure.”
“Please, Mr Kim. I don’t want to make this more difficult than it is. I just need to know about the man they fished out of the harbor, and then I’ll be on my way. So… who was he?”
Namjoon scoffs. “What makes you think I know more than the police?”
There’s a flash of a smirk, barely noticed, before his face returns to its neutral expression. As calm and cool as a placid river. “A john’s a john. What I do want to know is why you care so much?”
The underlying question is clear; why are you really here?
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters with civillians.”
“Oh? So I’m a civilian now.” His expression is not unlike the cat that caught the canary: vicious and delighting in the discomfort his evasions are causing. “Gotta say that’s a new one for me.”
Sighing in defeat, you say, “Alright, enough. I get it. I’m wasting my time with you. Let me ask this instead: where is he?”
“He doesn’t know any more about this than I do,” he says, waving a blase hand towards a door off to the left, “But if you insist, you can find him in the office. Oh, and Detective?”
“...Yes?”
“Take your time, I’ll be out on business all afternoon.”
With a curt nod, you flee the room amid low-throated chuckles and enter the office. Standing near the desk, his broad back turned towards the door, you find the man you simultaneously want to see the most and run from the fastest.
He turns around, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement. Your breath stutters in your chest, and you nearly swallow your tongue as your eyes trace over the cut of his body.
The moment your eyes meet, those many months spent cultivating time and distance turn to ash. You forgot how even the mere sight of him affects you, any resistance to his many charms virtually nonexistent as the world falls away.
Rich, coffee dark; his gaze sucks you in until it’s all you can do not to reach out, to brush your fingers over his edges and feel them soften beneath your palms.
Rocking back on your heels, you clear your throat and glance to the side as you remain standing in the entryway, more than a little off-kilter.
Coming back after so long apart, only to find him the same as the day you left… How do you reconcile everything that’s changed with everything that was?
“Well, hello there.” Jungkook croons, leaning his hip against the corner of the desk with a roll of his shoulders. His arms cross over the trunk of his chest, accentuating the bulk of his chest, the flex of inked bicep. “Long time no see.”
Shifting, you gulp. “Ah - yeah…”
The burn of his gaze - a palpable sensation prickling across your skin - tracks a path from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he gives you a thorough once-over.
“You’re looking good,” Jungkook hums in approval, “real good. I’ve missed those pretty eyes of yours.”
“You - you too.”
Your attention doesn’t know where to settle: drifting from the curve of his shoulders to the jut of his bloody knuckles, the tuck of his trim hips to the thick-soled combat boots.
Tiny hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, and your palms slick with sweat.
“I mean, you look… y’know, uh, good too.”
A flash of a crooked smirk, the raising of a pierced brow gets your blood pumping, your heart tattooing a rhythm against your ribs. Emboldens you to reach back with shaky fingers to turn the lock. The sound grates down your spine, bolts of anticipation slicing through you.
It was dumb to think coming here, seeing him again, would end any other way than his taste on your tongue and his cock in your cunt. Hope makes fools of us all.
Should’ve known better but you’d been hopeful those days were long behind you. Now you realize it was inevitable.
After all, Jungkook is magnetic.
The black hole at the center of your universe, consuming everything in its path until he’s what remains in your head, your heart. You’re helpless, ceaselessly drawn to him like a moth to flame.
And try as you might, you can’t say no to a face like that.
Never could, in fact.
Failure to extract yourself from his orbit during your not-relationship is nothing new. That doesn’t mean you can’t make it difficult.
After all, you still have some dignity intact.
So try, try, try again.
“Ahem.” You try to banish the heat from your cheeks, guiding the conversation into the correct territory. “I’m not here on a-a social call, Jeon. I need to know: were you the one that killed and dumped the john in the harbor?”
Stalking closer, a lazy jungle cat on the prowl, Jungkook crosses the distance between you. He only stops once your bodies brush with every labored inhale. Heat radiates from him, and you’re achingly aware of every point of contact.
The light scent of his cologne teases your nose, and his eyes - god, his eyes. They’re shaded and hungry, devouring your expression with single-minded possessiveness.
“What makes you think I know anything about that?”
“Jeon -- Jungkook.”
He hums.
Your heart thrums, pulse rushing hard through your head until you feel faint, blood surging the longer you stay in close contact. The shameful clench of your cunt makes your cheeks burn all the brighter.
The last time you were looking up at him like this, his hand was on your jaw while his cock thrust balls deep.
“C’mon, you know that isn’t going to work. This is me you’re talking to, not some rookie.”
“Mm,” he purrs, “it is you I’m talking to, isn’t it?”
You manage to bite back the groan but can’t stop your eyes from rolling even if there’s the slightest hint of a stutter when you reply, “Please, I just need to know if you killed him.”
Jungkook looms tall and proud, crowding closer. “And if I did, baby?” he asks.
Instinctively you back up, only to be followed step by step. A game of cat and mouse that finds you pinned against the wall before long. With nowhere to run, you watch, heart in your throat, as Jungkook dips his dark head.
His nose runs along the length of your neck, breath puffing across your sensitive skin as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.
“I - I…”
“Would you see me in handcuffs?” His lips caress the underside of your jaw, a soft groan escaping him. “… C’mon, answer me. Would you?”
“I would - if I had to.”
As much as you wish that was true, you know in your heart of heart's you would do everything in your power to make sure that never happens.
No matter how much you like to think you’d do the right thing when push comes to shove, you’d choose him a thousand times over.
His eyes dance playfully. “Careful, I might like it.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” you say with a snort.
Jungkook chuckles low and warm, using the arm around your waist to tug you into the safety of his body. The softness of your breasts presses into the hard planes of his chest, your nipples pebbling through the thin cotton shirt you wear.
With a deep-throated groan, his hands encircle the curves of your hips as a thickly muscled thigh slots between yours.
An answering quiet sigh gets his blood pumping and his cock twitching.
“Mm, something tells me you’d enjoy it just as much, Detective.”
The use of your title is a rude awakening.
“Jungkook,” You warn, moving to push him away. Only once you start touching him, you can’t stop. His muscles flex beneath your curious fingertips. “We really shouldn’t.”
You’re sure if he could, Jungkook would spend days worshipping between your thighs, velvet heat wrapped around his tongue and hands in his hair as he brings you to peak again and again until you’re a sobbing, sopping, boneless mess beneath him.
“Come on, I know you want me - that you’ve missed me. I can see it in your eyes.”
He kisses the corner of your mouth, tongue flickering out for a brief taste before a rough thumb skates across your bottom lip, tugging down to expose your teeth, the glitter of your tongue as it darts out to flick over the pad of his finger..
“I’ve certainly missed you, baby. Want me to show you?”
Even though you refuse to admit anything out loud, you can’t help but angle your throat back and grind into his hips pressed against yours.
Jungkook tsks, “That’s alright. I’ll get that pretty mouth open one way or another.”
Before you can retort, a mouth swoops down to fuse with yours in a fierce, all-consuming kiss. A low, broken moan punches from your chest.
Reaching up, your fingers sink into the mane of dark hair that brushes the cut of Jungkook’s jaw. Soft, thick, and wavy in your grip; you tug at the roots.
Jungkook hisses.
Teeth nip at your lip, kittenish licks soothing away the string as blood bursts across your tongues. The thigh shoved between yours grinds up with every wet, sloppy pass of your lips.
Thick muscle spreads your pussy open through the thin slacks of your work uniform. Sparks of pleasure dance down your spine with every rock against your swollen clit.
“S-Shit!” Your shoulders curl in, a shudder jerking through you. “K-Kook, I… !”
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” Jungkook growls, rutting his cock against the jut of your hip. The wet patch you’re making on his jeans grows larger with every filthy grind. “You’ve been gone too fucking long. Never again, you hear me?”
You claw at his shoulders, stuttering out, “there’s noth-ing you can do t’stop me.”
“If you don’t come back to me,” his eyes are dark and stormy, voice whiskey rough, “I’ll find you.”
It’s not a threat - it’s a promise.
“Then make sure I never want to leave,” you challenge breathlessly, staring into his blown out pupils, “Make me want to stay.”
Above all else, you think.
The words are barely past your lips when Jungkook accepts your challenge with gusto (just like you knew he would). Without delay, he thumbs open the button on your pants.
Refusing to let you look away, Jungkook yanks them to your feet and swings you up into his arms one-handed. They hang from your ankle like a chain.
Your surprised squeak is quickly swallowed up by a moan when he settles you over the bulge in his pants, your cunt hovering over his erection.
The heat of his skin sinks through the thin cotton of your panties, so, so close to where you need him. Slick soaks into the fabric, and clings to your inner thighs.
Every shift is a smooth, sticky glide of folds that stirs, and stokes the ember of desire smoldering behind your navel.
“Kook,” you breathe. “Please.”
Your head rolls back, and you sag into his chest. Your hips twitch in pathetic little attempts, trying to get pressure where you need it. Having him hot and hard and all for you; any distance between you is suddenly unbearable.
He needs to spread you wide and stuff you full with every inch of his thick cock until he’s so deep you won’t be able to walk for days.
“Shh baby, I’ll give you what you want,” he says, gaze heavy and possessive. “I’m gonna ruin you so good, you’ll have no choice but to come back. You’re mine.”
“Says who?”
“Hmm. You don’t think you are?”
Nibbling on your ear, Jungkook slips a finger under the hem of your panties. He smirks when you keen, rubbing his knuckle up and down your sloppy folds with teasing pressure.
“How about I show you what your body already knows?”
Wasting no time, he lifts you off his cock, the scrap of cloth fluttering to the ground. His free hand dives between your bodies. Then comes the clink of a belt, the sound of a zipper pulling down.
Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, your body coiled with anticipation as your stomach swoops at the brush of his fingers along the underside of your thigh.
“Look so pretty like this, baby.” Jungkook twists his wrist, hips arching back. “And it’s all for me. Fuck, I can’t wait to get inside this pretty pussy.”
Any response dies on your tongue, brain short-circuiting as the slick, fat cockhead rubs along your slit. Pressing against your entrance the slightest bit before slipping up to nudge at your clit - coating himself up in your sticky juices.
The ultimate tease - something Jungkook’s always been overly fond of doing until you’re out of your mind with desperation.
“Please, please, please,” you chant, cheeks on fire and eyes half-lidded as you circle your hips. “Stop playing around. I want it - want you, Kook.”
“Oh, baby,” he smiles, ducking down to kiss your forehead. “You’ll take whatever I give you.”
You can’t stifle the broken sob, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Liquid fire surges through your veins, a thousand bolts of lightening crackling beneath the surface of your skin. Your pussy is tender, swollen. Walls fluttering in time with your heartbeat.
“Ha, you’re so needy for me.”
Jungkook’s lips brush away the moisture around your eyes, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the base of your spine. All the while, his torturous grinding never ceases.
“Aren’t you?”
You croak, “I can’t – Kook, please. Anything, I’ll do anything you want just fuck me.”
The flash of his eyes is your only warning before he’s right there, your walls embracing the girth of his erection inch by inch. Every ridge, every jerk as he seats himself as deep inside your silken heat as he can is absolute heaven.
The stretch as you take him to the hilt sends you careening towards the edge, eyes rolling back and toes curling in your shoes.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” you whimper.
“Shit!” Jungkook grits his teeth, squeezing the base of his cock as you tighten around him. With every deep inhale, his pelvis brushes your swollen, needy clit. “Forgot how good you feel wrapped around my dick, baby.”
“Me too,” You gasp, tightening your legs around Jungkook’s hips.”Me too, Kook.”
Dropping his forehead to yours, he says gruffly, “‘m not gonna last long.”
Making a noise of acknowledgement, you wiggle your hips. Sinking your teeth into the side of Jungkook’s jaw, you bite and suck at his skin, wanting to leave a mark to remember you by. His reaction is instantaneous, releasing the grip on his shaft to grab a fist full of hair.
He yanks back.
The long, elegant line of your throat is exposed to his butterfly kisses and scolding love bites.
“Now you’ve really asked for it,” Jungkook huffs out with a dirty chuckle.
“Then give it to me.” You lick your puffy lips, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Show me who I belong to.”
The brewing hurricane in his eyes is unleashed. Wide palms and strong fingers grip your hips so tight you feel bones grind together. His stance widens, his unwavering gaze locking onto your face, brow pinched, and mouth slack.
His lip piercing glints in the light, his tongue sliding out to wet his bottom lip. Dark curls tussle about his head, a wild halo that sweeps down into the burning umber of his eyes.
Helpless, you succumb - enchanted by the darkness peering at you from behind those dangerous eyes. He’s ethereal; a siren song that threatens to drown you, swallow you whole.
You’d happily let him, you realize with a shiver.
It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all.
“Hold on tight,” Jungkook says, hooking his hands under your bottom.
And then, he’s jackhammering into your cunt so hard and fast all you can do is hold on for the ride. Punch drunk and moaning as he manhandles you how he likes, spreads you wide and stuffs you full until you’re panting for breath and clinging to sanity by your fingernails.
“Fuck yes, that’s it. Look how well your pretty pussy always takes my fat cock.”
His low voice whispering filthy praises in your ear makes you whimper, whine, and writhe as the band of pleasure coiling tight in your belly comes close to snapping. It’s the fastest he’s ever fucked an orgasm out of you, and it feels so good you don’t even care.
The pace is brutal, slamming into you so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips come morning. But it’ll be so fucking worth it. You’re going to cum hard and long, you just know it.
About to melt as Jungkook fucks the slick out of you, groaning as you drip down the base of his cock, his balls - his very own pretty little mess.
“Yeah, you gonna cum, baby?” he laughs, pressing a sweaty kiss to the side of your face. “Can feel how - haaah shit - how tight you’re squeezing me.”
“Uh-huh,” you cry, holding onto the tops of his wide shoulders. Every thrust has his cockhead dragging over the spongy patch of your g-spot, sending fissions of pleasure rocketing through your nervous system. “So - so close, baby. Just a little more, I--”
Balancing yourself, you lift up only to slam back down, meeting Jungkook’s thrust with all the force of gravity. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!”
Crashing over you like a tsunami, your orgasm shoots through your limbs and zips down your spine. A warm rush of cum soaks Jungkook’s shaft, the wet and messy sound of your squirt splashing against the floor secondary to the cry that claws its way out of your throat.
“K-Kook!”
Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he helps you keep bouncing up and down on his erection. “Yeah, that’s it - keep going, baby. Wanna feel you keep cumming all over this cock.”
Aftershocks slice through you like lightning, tiny jolts of electricity. As you come down from your high, your gummy walls pulse, milking at Jungkook’s thick shaft.
He groans softly whenever your muscles tense, release; your body a worn-out rubber band as your breath stutters from you.
Then a hand pets down your flank, your skin shivering with hypersensitivity at the tender touch. “S’okay. Just breathe, baby.”
Peeling open your heavy eyes, you look up at his face. Take in the crinkle of his brow and the ravenous expression. Even floating on a sea of bliss, white noise fills your ears, you want more.
You slur, determined, “Kook, baby, please. Cum in me, want you s’bad.”
“Fuck! Can’t just say shit like that to me or I…” Jungkook bites down onto the tender crook of your neck, muffling his grunts in your flesh. “Shit - ’m so --”
You cry out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders, “A-haah, K-Kook!”
Snapping his hips forward one last time, Jungkook grinds as deep as he can get and lets go. The fat head of his cock kisses your cervix, his length throbbing in time with his heartbeat as a rush of cum floods your insides.
“Yeah, just like that,” he grunts, rutting once - twice into the cradle of your body, “take it like a good girl.”
He croons when you whine at the press of his pelvis against your oversensitive clit. Thready sparks of pain shoot down your legs that hang limply over his forearms. Every breath stutters from your lungs, slow and deep.
“No more, can’t - can’t…” Shifting, you arch your spine and burrow your head into his chest, nearly catatonic in his arms. “S’too much.”
“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Fingers brush over your closed eyelids, smoothing over the arch of your brow. With every kiss dropped to the top of your head, he mumbles in dulcet tones, “I really have missed you, you know.”
You mewl in response as strong fingers knead the backs of your thighs.
“You’re not allowed to go anywhere.”
“Oh,” you can’t muster up enough energy to say anything more, body tender and trembling with little aftershocks, “s’that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He chuckles. “You’re staying here - right where I want you.”
In lieu of a response, you pick your head up off the pillow of his chest and seek out his gaze. Liquid soft; he’s looking at you like you hung the world on a string.
“I’ve missed you too, Kook,” you say with a gentle smile.
You’ll allow yourself this moment of weakness when there’s no space between your bodies or hearts. Titles don’t matter much when he’s cradling you to his chest like a piece of precious china.
Between the two of us, you’re the one who hung the moon and stars, you think while combing back his sweaty bangs.
And I think I love you, you whisper voiceless against his lips.
#jeon jungkook x you#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#bts fic#jungkook#bts jungkook
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?
Warnings: slight angst, fluff, a lot of fluff, alcohol consumption, clingy!reader, drunk!reader
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve gets to know a side of you, you have never shown him before, and he takes the final step towards realization.
Word count: 10k+
Author’s note: SO @hellfire--cult and I have been waiting for this chapter (and especially for the next one). I'm so happy that we're finally here, and as always I'm giving a special shoutout to my lovely Roe, who not only helped with ideas but also wrote the whole last paragraph, the drive home and all the fluff at Steve's house. Give her all the love she deserves ♡ ilysm roe thank youuuu
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
♡
Red, white and blue colors flash before your eyes, everywhere you look as you walk through the grocery store with Max. You can’t even bear to look at the holiday themed snacks and decorations on the shelves. All week, people have been preparing for a holiday, you used to love, now it’s nothing but a reminder of what you lost – of what Max lost.
You avoided going to Big Buy’s all week, for this exact reason.
But now you were the one who offered to go inside, when Eddie was the one who wanted to get the pre-drinks, you don’t even know why you did it, maybe it was to get away from Dustin’s and Lucas’s banter, or maybe you just wanted to prepare yourself for something much bigger.
The Fun Fair takes place this year, just as it did, last year. And you friends wanted to celebrate the Fourth of July there. You don’t mind, you really don’t, but every place you turn today, reminds you of a dear friend you lost.
Max walks beside you quietly. She looks around with heavy eyes and tension in her shoulders, she’s fidgeting with the bracelet that Lucas gifted to her, and keeps her eyes on the ground.
You didn’t say anything yet, not wanting to trigger any more sadness. You’re surprised that she even offered to go inside with you, she could’ve waited and stayed with the guys, but she didn’t.
“This day sucks.”
These are the first words she spoke out loud, ever since you stepped inside the store.
“Yeah,” you mumble, quietly, not knowing what to say, because all you can think about is Billy, and how he died on this exact day, one year ago, when you were still so unaware of the dark truth that lied beneath this town, when you thought that it was the fire that killed him and not one of Vecna’s creatures.
You weren’t even there, but thinking about it makes you sick and angry. You can’t even imagine what Max must’ve felt like that night. Or what she is feeling now.
When you stop in the drink aisle, you look around for the beer Eddie asked for, but instead your eyes fall on the one brand that Billy always used to buy. Sometimes he’d bring a six pack over and leave some cans in your fridge for some other time, you are pretty sure that there are still two leftover cans hidden behind all the other drinks in your fridge.
A sigh falls from your lips, “yeah, it does.”
She glances at you, sadness settling into her features, when she sees the way your eyes fill with grief.
“Billy would roll his eyes at us, right now,” she mumbles, trying to crack a joke.
A small chuckle escapes you, and you turn to look at her with a weak smile on your face, “yes, he would.”
She purses her lips as she looks at the beer, “are you gonna let me drink tonight?”
You scrunch your nose, and shake your head, “are you crazy?” You scoff, as you step forward and reach for the beers, Eddie asked for, and the ones Billy would have gotten for himself. “How about you turn twenty one first, and then I’ll let you drink.”
Max laughs at you and rolls her eyes.
“You’re not even twenty one, and you’re drinking – oh! And buying the beers with a fake ID probably!”
“Shush,” you wave your hand at her when an employee walks past you, giving you both a weird look.
“I’m very close to twenty one,” you whisper.
“You’re not even twenty yet–”
“I’m turning twenty, this year. Now stop arguing with me, and get yourself a coke or something.”
Max groans at you, “fine,” she murmurs as she follows you, “why are you even getting any drinks now when you can buy some at the Fair?”
“I’m pretty sure that Eddie doesn’t want to buy any of those overpriced drinks that taste like absolute shit.”
She snorts, “he shouldn’t even be drinking, he’s driving.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll walk you all home if he gets drunk.”
Her jaw drops, and annoyance flashes in her eyes, “are you serious–”
You laugh at the look on her face, shaking your head at her, “I’m just kidding, when does Eddie ever get drunk?” You chuckle, “he’ll have one beer tops, no more, he’ll sober up till then, and if not then uh… Steve will drive you home.”
“Okay,” she sighs, as the momentarily amusement leaves her face again, and the sadness begins to sink back in, making you much more aware of your own.
“Hey, Max?”
She turns back to you, and raises her eyebrows in question.
“If you feel overwhelmed at some point, you can find me and we can leave, at any time, okay?”
She smiles a little and nods her head.
“Okay,” she whispers, “same goes for you, if you want to leave, I’ll go with you.”
“Okay,” you smile at her, “now let’s go pay for these and get out of here,” you mumble as you gesture to the beer in your hands.
You feel relief rushing through you once you are out of the busy store again. The golden evening sun hits your skin, still blessing it with warmth, the air around you smells like summer, like fresh cut grass, hot pavement and honeysuckle. The wind kisses your skin and blows through your hair, it’s warm yet refreshing, it feels nice.
“Did you buy that for me?” Dustin grins at you, pointing at the beers when you get into the passenger seat.
Eddie glares at him through the rearview mirror.
“Very funny, Dusty Bun.”
Lucas laughs at the nickname, nudging his shoulder against Dustin’s, “Dusty Bun,” he cackles, wiggling his brows.
“Shut up, dude.”
“You kids are too young to even think about trying beer,” you glare at the three teens in the back, most specifically at Lucas, who’s had some before.
His smile falls a little, and he clears his throat, “that was one time.”
“Yeah, it better stay that way,” you point at him.
Max snorts at the glare on your face.
“Yes, mom.”
Eddie and Dustin chuckle.
Your jaw drops, and you furrow your brows at the teen who is squished between Max and Dustin.
“You act like a mom sometimes!” Lucas raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging at you.
“No, I don’t!”
“Yeah, you do, you’re mama bear,” Eddie snorts, making Dustin laugh louder.
“Yeah, you’re not fooling us with your grumpy act.”
You squint your eyes at the curly head, who is grinning happily at you.
“Just accept it, Sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re the mom of the group.”
“No, I only joined this group a few months back, there has to be a different mom–”
“Oh no, we only had single dad Steve,” Lucas giggles, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “but we got a mom and a dad now, so…”
The smug look on his face, and the teasing in his eyes, isn’t exactly hard to miss. You know exactly what he is going at, what he has been going at for the past few months now.
Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if he somehow knows about your feelings for Steve, if he always knew about them, or if he is simply just teasing and still in the dark about everything.
You are good at hiding your feelings, you always have been, no one ever found out about your feelings for Steve unless you wanted them to, but if there is someone who you wouldn’t underestimate, then it’s definitely Lucas, he is too smart for his own good, sometimes.
Eddie snorts beside you, mumbling, “mommy and daddy.”
You elbow him, into his side, earning a groan from him.
“That wasn’t very nice!” Eddie grumbles as he shoots you a glare, and presses his hand against his stomach.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Edward.”
He squints his eyes at you.
“Who is Eddie then?” Dustin asks.
“He’s the cool uncle,” Lucas shrugs.
“Damn right, now stop yapping,” Eddie mumbles as he takes a look over his shoulder, “are you ready to throw up Hot Dogs after going on the roller coaster?”
All three of them groan in disgust, scrunching up their faces, making him laugh.
You shake your head at him when he starts laughing.
“You’re such a menace.”
Eddie only chuckles at you, he starts the car and turns up the music, and he rolls down the windows before he speeds out of the parking lot.
You embrace the moments of peace before the chaos of the fair hits you, screaming children, crowds of people, and the overwhelming smell of food on every corner are something you are not looking forward to despite the hollowness in your stomach. You couldn’t get anything down the past few days, you nearly threw up this morning when you walked into the diner with Eddie, and the smell of Bacon hit you.
The wind weaves through your hair as Eddie drives down the main road.
The sound of music distracts you from your sad thoughts.
The thought of him, filling your heart with life and your soul with hope.
He grounds you in your worst moments, and he doesn’t even know it.
-
The fairground is alive with music and screaming children, the sound of the roller coasters moving, conversations and laughter from every corner. The dazzling lights are a stark contrast against the dark sky, the smell of food wafts through the air.
Robin and Vickie are standing next to Steve, giggling about something as they sip on their mixed beers. He is looking around, trying to catch sight of you, but you are nowhere to be found, and he is beginning to worry.
Max and El had dragged you away for a roller coaster ride, but that was over an hour ago, and he hasn’t seen you ever since.
Max had warned him before, when she reminded him of what this day means to you, of what happened a year back, of what and who you had lost.
Steve doesn’t know how you deal with grief, how you feel on these kinds of days, there are too many of them in your life. He doesn’t know how you cope, he wishes that he could be there for you and give you a shoulder to lean on – but you aren’t very good at showing your true feelings or emotions, he only saw a glimpse of the truth that you hide behind those high walls you built around yourself and he doubts that you would come to him for comfort.
A dreadful feeling is gnawing in his chest the more time passes without you being seen.
“Hey Dingus, we’re going on the Ferris Wheel,” Robin nudges his shoulder, grinning at him.
He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the crowds, he nods at his best friend.
“Sure, have fun.”
Robin furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of his frown, “are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he murmurs and plasters a smile on his face, “go and have fun with your girl.”
She hesitates, her smile becoming weaker now, “you should go find Eddie or Dustin.”
“Yeah, I will, in a second.”
“Your feet are not glued to the ground are they?” Vickie asks, chuckling.
“Yeah, you’ve been stuck in this spot for like thirty minutes now!” Robin exclaims as she points her ringed finger at him, eyeing the way he is leaning against the wall with tension in his body.
Steve chuckles, and brings his hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek for a moment, “I’m just looking out for the kids.”
Robin snorts, though she gives him a suspicious look.
“Ah, but they’re not around,” she says, tilting her head as she gestures to all the strangers that surround the field, instead of the teens.
“I told them I’d be here if they needed anything,” he shrugs and waves his hand at her, “now go and have your kiss on the top of the Ferris Wheel.”
Robin slaps his shoulder, her cheeks taking on a deep red color, as Vickie giggles behind her.
He chuckles at her, wiggling his brows and smirking at his best friend.
Robin rolls her eyes and turns away from him, she offers her hand out to the redhead, who reaches for it, though with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her lips.
“See you later, Dingus,” Robin waves at Steve, not giving him the chance to respond before she drags her girl away and pushes through the crowds with her.
Steve’s eyes follow them until he can no longer see them as they get lost in the midst of the chaos. Laughing children run around, chasing each other, a group of teenage boys carrying drinks they shouldn’t be allowed to buy, two young women walk past him, giggling amongst themselves as they eye him with interest in their eyes, Steve pays no mind to them, not even bothering to spare them a look despite the very obvious glances he is getting, even as they had already passed him.
His eyes follow a different sight and his ears perk up at the sound of giggles that sound like yours, his lips twitch at the sound and his heart flutters wildly in his chest.
He pushes himself off the tree he is leaning against and turns to look around. Steve’s hazel eyes soften the moment he finally sees you.
You are standing in a circle with Eddie and his bandmates who all keep pestering you over something. Eddie leans closer to you and pinches your cheek, while Gareth jumps around you like some hyper puppy, his curls bouncing and his face flickering with amusement when you keep waving your hand at him.
Steve smiles at the giggle that falls from your lips when Eddie swats your hand away after you ruffle his curls.
He watches the way your lips move as you stare at him with a smug look on your face, saying something to him that makes him clutch his chest and gasp dramatically.
Steve shakes his head as the metalhead lunges at you and you squeal in surprise before you turn around and run off with a giggle, bolting into the crowd with Eddie and Gareth hot on your heels, while Jeff and Grant follow the three of you slowly, shaking their heads in amusement.
Surprise lingers inside of him, Steve had never seen you so playful before, he had never witnessed you letting loose and having genuine fun. You are always on guard, always hiding away behind your brooding act that is slowly becoming less and less visible.
Something has changed, something in your behavior has shifted in the past few weeks. You seem happier, you seem to smile more, you seem to be kinder to the people around you.
Your walls are still up, but the foundation has begun to crumble, just like his did.
You let him see a glimpse of something he never thought was even there, he saw your vulnerable side and your soft one, he saw how lovingly you treated your baby niece, he saw how sweet and gentle you could be – he saw the real you and it only made him weaker than ever before.
There was always a part of him that left him feeling weak whenever he was with you – it wasn’t a bad kind of weak, but it was one that scared him.
It doesn’t scare him anymore.
He embraces the weakness now.
Something, someone crashes into his chest, making him stumble back from the force, when he looks down, he finds you staring up at him, with your arms now wrapped around his waist and a softened look in your eyes as a smile rests on your lips. The dazzling, colorful lights from the rollercoaster and the ferris wheel only brighten the color of your eyes, making him get lost in them so easily.
He feels your arms around his torso, and your hands on his back, your chest is now pressed against his and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the look in your eyes is a dreamy one as they look into his.
The warmth in his chest blooms, the smile on his lips grows bigger, something in his stomach flutters when you stand on your tippy toes and remind him of the height difference between the two of you.
“Hi Stevie,” you say softly.
He would be lying if he said, he isn’t caught off guard by the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes, by your arms that are wrapped around him and your body that is pressed against his, so tightly and intimately, despite all the eyes that could see.
“Hi Blondie,” he smiles as he slowly wraps his arms around you and acts on his feelings, when he brings you closer.
The smell of your perfume is intoxicating and it does nothing to weaken the fluttering in his stomach. You smell like the cotton candy that you had shared with Max earlier and the beer you probably had been drinking all night, which is surprising, considering how much you despise the bitter taste of beer.
“I missed you.”
His eyes widen in surprise, and his eyebrows shoot up, the fluttering in his stomach now growing even stronger than before.
You woke up in each other's arms this morning, you even sat at the kitchen table and drank your morning coffee together before you left to meet up with Eddie.
But you missed him.
You missed him, like he missed you.
Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or maybe not – he hopes not.
“Yeah?” He whispers.
You nod, your eyes flicker to his lips, before they move back up, to meet his.
“I missed you too, Blondie.”
He nearly crumbles when your smile grows even bigger and a blush creeps up on your face, a breathy, small giggle falls from your lips. And then, you surprise him once again, when you bury your face in his chest and hug him tightly.
His heart rate picks up and his breathing becomes heavy from all the emotions inside of him.
He certainly never met this side of you before,and he never even knew that you could become much softer than what he had already seen of you.
Without looking around to make sure that you are away from prying eyes, he wraps his arms tighter around you, and hugs you in a way he wanted to all night.
Confusion, adoration and happiness floods through him, all at once.
Here he thought that this day would bring out some darkness in you, that you would hide in a corner and try to drink away your sorrows but instead the alcohol in your system brought something else out in you.
As Steve holds you in the middle of the fairground and you slide your palm over his chest, resting your hand above the place where his heart beats strongly, he feels himself falling into your embrace, losing all his vision of the people and the things before him, losing all the sounds around him, no longer feeling the ground beneath his feet – all he sees is you, all he hears is the beating of his own heart, all he feels is you, only you.
And as though, it didn’t hit him hard enough already, you place your chin on his chest and you tilt your head up to look at him, giving him a sweet smile, “kissy?” You ask, puckering your lips.
He could melt into a puddle, right then and there.
Despite not wanting to, he lets his eyes roam the space around you, making sure that none of your friends are watching, before he leans in to place a kiss on your lips – one that is way too quick for your liking, the pout that follows your puckered lips makes his heart burst.
You look at him with literal puppy eyes, glinting with a pleading look.
He almost doesn’t recognize you – you are not the Blondie that he saw a few hours back, but he is not complaining in the slightest, he really likes this side of you.
Cupping your cheeks, he rests his large palms against your skin, his fingertips getting lost in your hair as he leans down to kiss you again, smacking his lips against yours, he delivers a loud kiss, one that makes you giggle when he pulls away again and looks down at you with a lazy smile on his face.
“How much did you drink?” Steve asks, chuckling when you keep staring at him with a big smile.
“Just a little bit,” you slur, and raise your hand to show him as you furrow your brows and hold your thumb and pointer finger into an L shape, “so much.”
He laughs as he tucks your hair behind your ears, “alright.”
“I want something else now.”
“What, more alcohol?” Steve asks, raising his brows.
You shake your head, scrunching up your nose in a way that makes him smile as he looks at you adoringly.
“No, I think I had too much already.”
“Yeah, I think so too, honey,” he murmurs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily, almost normal, “you don’t feel sick, do you?”
“No, just thirsty.”
“Alright, let’s get you something to drink then,” he says, unable to stop smiling, when you look at him this way. He moves his hands away from your face and he reaches for your hand, sliding his palm against your own, he entwines his fingers with yours, and you welcome his action, happily.
Steve isn’t drunk, he didn’t have a single sip of alcohol this evening, not a single drag of Argyle’s joint and yet, he feels as though he is under the influence of something strong, his mind is in a haze, that careless and freeing feeling lingers in his chest, happiness and giddiness rushes through him and he feels as though he is floating with you.
He can’t even find it in himself to care if anyone sees him with you like this – smiling at each other, hugging and kissing one another, holding hands, and acting like a couple. He knows your friends are here, but Steve just doesn’t give a damn – not even when Heidi walks past him with her friends and they all look at you weirdly.
He hears the hushed whispers, he sees the squinted eyes as they look you up and down and their eyes fall on your entwined fingers. He pays no mind to the way they look at him, but irritation sparks at him when they keep staring at you. He can see the judgment, and the jealousy, it’s so obvious.
Steve holds back the eyeroll and he grasps your hand tighter as he begins to drag you away from the prying eyes and the whispers of envy. He would rather kiss you and flip them off but he cannot risk this, he can’t risk you two getting caught. Rumors would circulate, words would get twisted and it would only be a matter of time until all your friends would find out.
And he isn’t ready to get caught, he isn’t ready to lose this, to lose you.
He glances down at you, seeing the smile that didn’t leave your face just yet. You are unaware to all the eyes on you, to the looks you were given, you are still holding onto his hand as tight as before, stepping closer to him when a group of boys rush past you.
You turn to him and raise your head to glance at him, shooting him a sweet smile as you squeeze his hand, causing his heart to flutter and his smile to reappear.
You are so cute like this.
He pulls you closer and shields you from anyone who brushes past you as you walk through the crowd together, getting lost in the chaotic field, where the music is louder and the people are too.
Steve looks around, trying to catch sight of the teens or Eddie and his bandmates but he only sees the town people that he couldn’t care less about while you follow him like some lost puppy, clinging to his side and looking up with big eyes, every few seconds or so.
You both get in line at the drink stall, your hands are still joined, fingers entwined and arms still pressed together. You stumble into him, prompting him to hold you a little tighter.
“I’m sorry,” you slur as you reach your free hand up to grab his arm.
“It’s fine,” he chuckles at you, adoring you a little more and more as the seconds pass.
You are drunk – not tipsy, not slightly drunk, no, you are genuinely and definitely drunk. And as he stands here with you, eying you closely and watching the way you keep looking up at him with your widened pupils and your lazy smiles, he realizes that he had never actually witnessed you being drunk – high and tipsy? Sure. But never drunk.
“Why’d you drink so much, Blondie?”
“I didn’t even drink that much,” you shrug, “I’m just not used to drinking that beer.”
Steve raises his brows, knowing how much you despise the taste of regular beer. You only drink it when it’s mixed with something.
“What kind of beer?”
You furrow your eyebrows, your eyes flash with confusion, you seemingly can’t remember the name of it.
You look down and your eyes widen when you find a discarded can on the grass, you point your finger at it, “that one.”
Steve’s eyes follow your gaze and the direction your finger is pointing at, he raises his eyebrows again.
“You don’t even like beer that much,” he mumbles and turns back to you.
“Billy did,” you shrug.
Oh.
His features relax again and his shoulders slump a little, realization flickers in his eyes.
You didn’t drink for fun, you were trying to forget about the sadness and the grief that must’ve lingered all day.
He is surprised that the alcohol didn’t have a negative effect on you. Drinking while feeling sad can worsen those emotions, the alcohol can transform them into a darker sadness or even into anger and despair.
But you seem fine, happy even.
If only he knew that he is the reason for it.
“The fireworks are about to start,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He blinks.
“Yeah,” Steve nods.
“Do you want to watch them with me?”
His heart skips a beat at the softness in your voice, at the hopeful look in your eyes and the sweet smile on your lips.
Of course he does.
“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “I’d love to.”
Your eyes crinkle as you beam at him, stealing his breath away with simple reactions like these.
Steve is not even sure if anyone had ever looked at him this way, no one has ever even made him feel this way, no one had ever stolen his breath away just from simply looking at him the way you do now.
You take him by surprise when you stand on your tippy toes and lean closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess.
Your giggle sounds like music to his ears, your touch drives him crazy as you squeeze yourself against him and lay your head on his chest as your arms come around his torso again.
He could fall to his knees right here, right now.
Is this the real you?
Is this the side you’ve been hiding from the world?
Is this the way you would have always been with him, had you not experienced so much loss and pain?
Steve wraps his arms around you, unable to hold back from showing and giving you the affection that you are blessing him with in this moment, even when the anxiety of getting caught still lingers.
He cups your cheeks and leans closer to your ear, “where do you wanna watch the fireworks?”
“Maybe the woods? Or the big field?” You ask as you look at him with big eyes, “so we can be away from all these annoying people?”
He laughs when you gesture to the loud fairground visitors.
The lights that flicker around you kiss your beautiful face and your skin that he wants to feel on his at any time, your lips that always look so inviting, you look so delicate, so soft, so gorgeous, you look like someone that could ruin his life and right in this moment, he doesn’t even mind it, he would let you.
It hits him, in this second, it hits him just how bad he’s got it for you.
Steve Harrington is down bad.
Down bad to a point in which he almost calls you ‘my girl’ when he is about to order your drink, he catches himself just in time but he can’t hide the blush that creeps up on his face.
You don’t seem to notice though, you swing your joined hands back and forth and look around with a contentment in your relaxed features.
He hands you the ice cold pepsi after placing the ten dollar bill on the small desk, telling the teen behind the counter to keep the change.
“That was nice of you,” you say as you both start walking away from the drink stall and from the crowds.
“What, letting him keep the change?”
You nod and let go of his hand to open your can.
“Poor guy has to work on a holiday, he should get a good tip,” Steve shrugs, already missing the feeling of your hand in his, he raises his arm and wraps it around your shoulder instead, pulling you closer against him.
Your lips twitch at that, a smile forms on your face.
“Still, that was nice of you, you’re a nice guy,” you giggle.
“Well, I gotta make up for all the times I wasn’t a nice guy.”
You don’t say anything to that, you can’t. Steve doesn’t even blame you, you witnessed him in his worst moments, you were his target, more than once.
You shot back at him but your words weren’t hurtful, your insults and your jabs were never personal. You got under his skin, but not in the way he got under yours.
He truly wasn’t a nice guy to you and that might be one of his biggest regrets. He was mean, awful even and now as he looks at you, at the cute frown on your face as you pop the can, at the way you take a sip of your favorite drink and smile afterwards, he can’t understand how he could ever treat you so unkindly, how he didn’t see you before.
You might’ve been rough, snarky and unapproachable but there was never denying of how beautiful you are, how beautiful you have always been.
How come he never asked you out?
He might’ve never seen this side of you before and he only ever knew one side of you, but your snarkiness wouldn’t have kept King Steve away from you, if anything, your little act should’ve made him more intrigued.
And now he can’t help but wonder what things would have been like had he not treated you the way he did, had he asked you out and fought for a chance with you.
Could’ve things been different then?
Would you have fallen in love with him?
Would you have prevented the heartbreak that Nancy had cursed him with two years ago?
The pain from his last relationship no longer matters to Steve, not since you, but this question still lingers.
“This spot is perfect.”
You pull him out of the past and back into the presence with a tug on his hand.
Steve looks around, you are no longer surrounded by people, instead it’s the trees that are around you and him, you’re at the edge of the forest, not far enough to drown at the music and the chatter but quiet enough to hear your voice clearer now, it’s much darker out here but he can still see you well enough.
You close your eyes and drink your pepsi, completely unaware of his unwavering glances. A sigh leaves your lips and you place the now half full can on the ground before you step closer to him and reach for his hand again, taking a look at the watch around his wrist, you squint your eyes and lean down closer, “it’s about to start any minute.”
He smiles at you, nodding his head slowly, “yeah.”
Steve feels the urge to pull you tight against him, to hold you and kiss you like he never did before.
You look up and meet his eyes when you notice his staring, a smile appears on your lips, “what?” You ask with a soft giggle.
He shakes his head and shrugs, “nothing.”
You bite your lip and he wants nothing more than to grab your face and kiss you breathless.
You raise your eyebrows at him and stare back at him, stumbling over air as you try to take a step closer to him, making you both chuckle at your drunken clumsiness, your hand falls against his body, while he grabs your waist, steadying you on your own feet, “whoa, easy tiger.”
You giggle at the nickname, making his own smile widen.
“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?”
You don’t even deny it, in fact, you don’t even answer the question as you keep staring up at him, keeping your hands against his chest as your eyes flicker from the spitcurl that hangs over his forehead, his eyes and his lips.
Steve’s stomach flutters just the way his heart does, his skin tingles beneath from your touches, the look in your eyes makes him want to kiss you even more.
“You’re feeling okay though, right?” He whispers as he slowly brings his hand up to the side of your face and he cups your cheek.
“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you nod, leaning into his touch, “I-I just… I miss him.”
Steve might never understand the friendship you had with Billy, he only knew the ugly sides of him but you knew more, you saw deeper, you were his friend – something Steve didn’t even know Billy had, he was sure the guy didn’t even know what the term ‘friendship’ even meant.
“And that’s okay, Blondie,” he says, giving you a sad smile, “it’s okay to miss people and to grieve for them.”
Tears well up in your eyes and your lips curl downwards.
Steve didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t mean to make you cry.
“Hey,” he whispers, pulling you closer as he catches the first tear with his thumb, “it’s okay, honey.”
You sniffle and roll your eyes at yourself, “he would punch me in the face for crying,” you joke.
Steve can’t help but laugh.
“And he’d make fun of me for being with you, he would like–” you pause and lean in to peck his lips, “he would smack my head if I did that in front of him!” You say with a giggle, despite the tears that still keep falling.
His cheeks heat up at the kiss, the need for more growing strong in his chest.
“He really didn’t like me, huh?”
“Not one fucking bit, Stevie,” you chuckle sadly.
Steve wonders how things would be if he was still here, would this thing between you even work out?
Would Billy keep you away from him?
“But nothing could take me away from you, he’d just have to suck it up,” you whisper as you peck his lips again, shutting down the worries in his head.
He almost feels his pulse in his throat as his heart beats faster, your words doing little to calm the beating of his heart.
“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as all the other words freeze in his brain.
You nod as you look into his eyes deeply, refusing to break eye contact. He notices the way your chest starts moving faster as your breathing gets heavier, he sees the way your smile transforms into a nervous frown and your throat bobs as you try to come up with words.
His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper his name shakily.
“I–”
Whatever you were about to say gets lost in the wind as the loud explosion in the sky cuts you off and tears your attention away from him. The colors pop in the sky, illuminating the darkened space around you both.
You tilt your head to watch the lights that reflect in your eyes, the smile you wore before makes its way back into your pretty face, the tension in your body disappears and you relax into him again.
But while your drunken mind gets distracted by all of this so easily, Steve only really sees you. He doesn’t look up just yet, he lets himself admire you for a moment.
Your eyes light up as they meet his for a brief second, flashing with awe.
His heart could jump out of his chest from how hard it’s beating, his knees could give out any moment now.
“Look!” You beam at him as you point your finger at the blue colors.
His gaze follows yours but it returns to your face so quickly, something about you pulls him in, a magnet, a string, a strong connection – he can’t identify it yet, but he feels like his whole being yearns for you and not just sexually.
He wants to keep doing this, he wants to keep holding your hand, he wants to keep hugging you, he wants to keep spending time with you like this, he wants to stand under the night sky with you, and he especially wants to do this.
“Hey,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks with both hands, pulling your attention back to him.
You greet him with an adoring smile, “hi,” you whisper.
Steve caresses your cheek, he is starting to lean in closer, fading out the colors that flash in his peripheral vision, before his lips can even touch yours, you throw your arms around his neck and beat him to it, pressing your lips against his over and over again before you move on to both of his cheeks and even the tip of his nose as you start showering him in kisses, catching him off guard completely.
Steve giggles in surprise, his cheeks match the colors that lighten up the sky as they glow red.
And then, you finally pull him into a longer kiss.
You close your eyes and he does too, your lips start moving slowly, passionately. You rest your hands on his neck and steal his breath away by deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into his mouth and let him have a taste of your sweetness, the cotton candy and the pepsi still linger on your lips.
Your noses bump into each other and you break the kiss with a giggle, giving him a sweet smile before you lean back in again, kissing and continuing to steal his breath away, not knowing what you have just done to his poor heart, how much life, how much hope you have filled it with.
A smile, a giggle, a simple kiss with you is all it takes for all the defense around him to crumble into dust.
Something he thought he lost seeps back into his heart, something he thought that stayed in the past and to never be touched again blooms in him.
Everything inside of him screams in joy, his stomach doing somersaults, his skin prickling from the excitement, his lips tugging into a smile even through the kiss that he deepens more and more.
This kiss is different from all the other ones you have shared before, this one means something, this one won’t lead to you tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is just a kiss.
A kiss that means everything.
A kiss that changes everything.
You stole his breath completely and made it your own, you stole his heart, his soul, his whole being.
And the noise of the fireworks, the sparks igniting from them, match those in Steve's heart. Just exploding, bursting, burning him from inside out.
And he embraces the feeling fully.
He wants more of this, more of you.
He wants to cross a line, he wants you in a whole new way and he is no longer ashamed to admit it to himself.
It feels like forever as you stand there beneath the sparkling sky, kissing and staying in each other’s embrace as you both savor every second of this moment, only pulling away to catch your breaths before you lean back in for more.
The fireworks stop, but only those in the sky.
Your lips are still moving with each other, your tongues still mingling together, whines and whimpers fall from you – tonight, they don’t fill him with lust and need, no, tonight they fill him with adoration.
Your arms tighten around his neck, your nose is flush against his as you refuse to break the kiss but the lack of air makes it impossible and it forces you away from him, though you don’t pull away too far, only enough to catch your breath.
Steve leans his forehead against yours, slowly opening his eyes to look into yours, his heart flutters yet again when he sees how wide your eyes are, how they flicker with deep emotions.
Unable to hold back, he leans in to peck your puffy lips one more time.
“Steve,” you whisper as your hands begin to slip from his shoulders to his chest.
“Yes?”
“Can I be with you tonight?”
He furrows his brows at your question, he wants you to be with him tonight, he wants you with him every night.
“Of course, Blondie.”
You smile at him though it’s a weak one and it makes him frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head, scrunching your nose.
“Are you feeling sick?” He asks, tilting your head up.
You shake your head again, “just really tired.”
Your words are still slurred, the alcohol still deep in your system.
“Let’s go home then.”
“Do you want to go?” You ask, looking at him with a cute frown on your face as you tilt your head to the side, “I-I can still wait if you want to stay here longer.”
Steve smiles at you, shaking his head, “no, I want to go home with you.”
The smile on your lips replaces the frown.
He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip and stares at you adoringly.
“Come on, we should tell Eddie.”
You pick up your discarded drink before you slide your fingers through his, intertwining your fingers with his again.
“Let’s go,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.
You follow him without a single word, walking beside him quietly as you make your way out of the woods and back into the fair where the lights are bright and he can see you better now.
It’s still just as crowded as it was before and just as loud.
Steve keeps you close, glancing at you, he notices the squinted eyes and how displeased you look by all the noises and the people around you.
He holds your hand tighter, giving it another reassuring squeeze.
“I can’t wait to go to sleep,” you mumble, taking the last few sips of your soda before you throw it into the trashcan you pass by. You wrap your free hand around his bicep and squish your cheek against it.
Steve’s smile widens, his eyes glint with nothing but fondness.
“There you are!”
Steve turns to find Eddie walking towards you both, throwing his hands up with a worried look on his face that slowly begins to disappear when he realizes that you have been with him all this time, though his eyebrows pull together when he sees your entwined hands and the closeness between you.
Steve expects you to run away from him and into your best friend’s arms, but you don’t, you stick to his side.
“Hi Eddie!” You mumble lazily as a smile appears on your face.
You all halt in your tracks once you meet in the middle.
“Hey sweets, are you okay?” He asks, eying you up and down one more time.
“Peachy!”
“Where have you been?”
Steve clears his throat, “we watched the fireworks from the woods and now I’m gonna take this one home, she’s tired.”
Eddie squints his eyes at him, giving a once over now – the way he has been doing it for some time now, like he is suspicious of his actions, like he wants to figure him out so he can protect you from him and irritates Steve.
“I can take her home,” Eddie shrugs.
“No!” You protest, clinging to Steve’s arm, you hold him tighter not wanting to be pulled away from him.
Steve chuckles softly, he looks down at you adoringly.
“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll take her home to sleep, maybe shove some coffee down her throat, see if that helps. I am sensing I’m having a hungover Blondie tomorrow.”
Eddie raises one eyebrow at him, he crosses his arms over his chest, defensively. And Steve notices it from the corner of his eye, causing the smile to leave his face as a frown etches into his features instead.
“I’m not doing anything if that's what you’re fucking thinking, Munson.”
Eddie raises his hands up in surrender, “sorry, can’t blame me for caring.”
That… Stings.
That actually hurts his feelings.
He may not be as close to Eddie as you are to him, but Eddie knows him well enough to know that he would never do anything like this.
“You really think I’m that disgusting?” Steve asks, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice.
Eddie sighs.
Of course he doesn’t.
He is just protective of his best friend, of her feelings.
Neither of you notice the way you keep looking between them, completely lost and confused.
“I don’t know what kind of deal you both have, Steve, but I’m allowed to care. I would’ve given her the same look if the roles were reversed.”
“She’s not like that,” Steve argues instantly.
Eddie sighs again, uncrossing his arms, he drops them to his side as he takes a look at the sky with a long sigh.
“I know she’s not, I know you’re not. Just… take care of her…”
Steve is still hurt by Eddie’s reaction, by the accusing look in his eyes, like Steve would do anything to hurt you.
He knows that it might only be because you are his best friend, because he feels protective of you, because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you – but to know that he was worried about you while you were with him makes him feel sick.
Steve would never do anything to hurt someone, let alone you.
“Can we go now?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes.
A weak smile appears on his face as he looks down at you, “yeah, we can go.”
Steve doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s squinted eyes linger on him, the way he looks down at your hands, watching as Steve pulls you closer despite you being glued to his side already.
He can’t help but sigh when he sees the way you look at him, the dreaminess and the love is so evident and it worries him, your feelings for Steve worry him because he fears that he will break your heart, that he will rip it out of your chest.
Eddie is so focused on his worries, he doesn’t even see the way Steve looks at you.
“I’m gonna call you tomorrow, Eds.”
Eddie smiles at you, “yeah, alright.”
Steve nods at Eddie, only giving him a small smile as he starts pulling you away.
“Bye man,” Steve mumbles as he brushes past him.
“Bye Eddie!”
“Yeah, sleep well, sweets.” Eddie smiles, waving at you.
Walking away from the fairground and leaving behind the crowds of people and your best friend feels like a relief to Steve. He can’t move past the glances the metalhead gave to him, the worried looks he spared you as though you were in some kind of danger with him.
He can’t confront him, he can’t talk to him about it and tell him how wrong he is though, he would give away his feelings and he can’t do that.
You walk beside him quietly, not a single word falls from your lips, you just keep holding his hand, looking up at him every once in a while until you make it to his car.
Steve opens the door for you, begrudgingly letting go of you so you can get inside, he helps you buckle in your seatbelt, a surprised chuckle falls from his lips when you use the opportunity to kiss his cheek and he can’t even help himself but do the same to you, smacking his lips against your cheek to give you a loud smooch, one that makes you giggle.
He can see the tiredness in your eyes, the way you slowly blink and how you sink deeper into the car seat as you yawn.
“Let's get you into bed, honey.”
Steve keeps the music on low during the drive home, you keep dozing off as your head keeps falling to the side but every time you open your eyes again, you look at him and you keep your eyes on him, making him blush beneath your softened gaze.
And then, you make his heart swell and his chest vibrate when you place your hand on his thigh and smile at him sweetly.
Everything about you drives him crazy today.
Every glance, every touch, every word, every kiss.
You have brought something out in him, something that was buried deep inside, hidden and locked away but you have found the key, you unlocked it, you brought something back that he thought was impossible to ever resurface again and you made it yours, you made him yours, all yours.
And now, he wants to give you everything.
He wants to take care of you, he wants to shower you with affection, he wants to be the one for you.
You’re making things complicated but in the most amazing of ways, in the most beautiful of twists that he couldn’t believe would happen again for him. Your small glances are enough to turn a flame in his entire body, your hand on his thigh as he parks at his home enough to send butterflies in his stomach, butterflies that he swore died when Nancy broke his heart.
Your touch is enough to make him tremble and make his knees buckle, when he helps you out of his car, both of you laugh as you almost fall right on your ass, even with his help. He is happy. He is content. He is extremely giddy when he is with you, as if he were fourteen all over again.
Even when you are not like this, when you are not this bubbly uncaring self, he still enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the accidental snorts that make him laugh as you swat him to try to stop him from laughing. The happy delighted moans you give when you try his cooking. The out of nowhere conversations in the mornings that you two now share together.
He likes it when you put on that strong wall, it makes you look cute, it makes him want to break it down. He loves the small banter, the pretend fights when you two are with the whole group, the way you pinch his side when you walk past him when no one is looking. He adores it.
When he finally manages to get you inside, he immediately urges you into the kitchen, making you drink water, not pepsi, despite your pouts and your teary eyes which almost make him become a puddle on the floor. He also gives you a leftover chicken sandwich he had in his fridge so you would eat something to absorb the alcohol.
“Eat at least half of that.” He commands and you just grumble something, cutely so, underneath your breath as you take a bite. He knew you probably didn’t eat anything at the fair, a possible reason for your drunkenness.
“I’ll eat… if you give me a kiss.” And just like that you pucker your lips his way and his heart can barely handle it. He licks his lips before leaning towards you and placing them on yours in a soft peck, a quick one. You smile before taking the first bite, and when you swallow it seems as if it turns on the hunger in your belly because you devour that sandwich in seconds.
He hopes you keep it down your stomach for the whole night and that it helps you feel okay in the morning. He wonders how you will act tomorrow, if you’ll remember all of this, if you’ll remember how much you kissed him, how you made him feel. He should tell you… He should…
But what if it’s the alcohol doing its thing?
“Okay, let’s go to bed.” And doing so turns out to be a challenge because as soon as you finish your food and water, your eyelids start to drop. Getting you off the stool and dragging you upstairs is easy but keeping you sitting up as he tries to change you into his clothes, that is another issue.
“I don’t wanna…” You mumble as you throw yourself back down onto the mattress, chest bare. He would have gotten riled up, if it weren’t for the fact he felt domestic, fluttery, and his chuckles came out easily out of his lips when looking at you.
“You have to, it’s just the shirt, come on.” His voice is soft as he talks to you, making you raise yourself up again, sitting in front of him and raising your arms up for him to slide his shirt on you. As soon as it’s on, you bounce back and get comfortable in his pillow with a contented sigh. He smiles at you as he takes off his shirt and starts unbuckling his belt in order to get comfortable. His own tiredness is starting to take a toll on his body.
He doesn’t notice that you had turned your head to look at him again, and a wolf whistle is heard in the room, making him turn to look at you. You have a cheeky smile on your face and he feels himself blushing slightly as he laughs, taking his pants off next, leaving him in boxers only.
“As if you haven’t seen it before.” He says and it only makes you whistle again as he saunters over with a shake of his head, a smile still plastered on his lips.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t adore it everytime,” you whisper.
And that makes the smile drop, but in shock. Your words went deep, soothing over wounds that had been created long ago, and he doesn’t mean his scars. He has to clear his throat in order to walk towards the bed and get inside right next to you, only for you to immediately crawl on top of him, laying your chin on his chest, looking at him.
It holds so much adoration for some reason, a sparkle that makes Steve’s stomach turn, hope that rose in his throat like vomit, ready to come out, overwhelming him. You are looking at him as if he hung the stars for you, as if he were your only person in the entire world.
And he knows he is looking down at you in the exact same way.
“What now?”
“You’re just so pretty… It’s stupid how pretty you are.” He chuckles, making his chest rumble and for you to bounce up and down with it.
You pout but it’s followed by a smile, “it’s true, you are.”
“I’m not told that very often Blondie.” He honestly replies and that makes you raise your head up and look down at him with determination in your eyes. “Wh–”
He can’t even finish his question because your lips start going crazy on his face, but softly, caring, taking extra time on following the lines of moles he has on his jaw. He is startled, shocked, for no one ever did this to him, not even his own mother. No one ever showered him with affection, with kisses.
And as though that wasn’t sweet and surprising enough, you nuzzle your nose against his, giggling when a big smile appears on his face.
You are cute. You are so fucking cute.
It is an overwhelming feeling, one that almost makes him feel like crying.
Your lips pressed on the tip of his nose as you pulled away, a proud smile on your face, and he wonders what is going through your mind right now. If it it’s all true, fuck, he wants it all to be true. He needs it to be true. He needs and desires that you are doing all of this intentionally to him, despite the alcohol.
“There, now you know.”
You really are beautiful, so beautiful. He feels drunk on you, seeing you, feeling you… his hand rises up, not able to contain himself as it runs through the back of your head and pulls you down to his lips, letting him give you a deep kiss. A kiss that made the fireworks he saw earlier explode inside his room again.
You follow his lips with a hum, and he doesn’t want to pull away. He needs it all. He needs you. Not in the way he has been having you the past month. Not at all, not even close.
He lets you pull away, and his hand caresses your cheek, pulling your head down to rest on his chest again as your legs intertwine with his underneath the sheets. He wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating. If it bangs your head from how hard he feels his chest being hit with it.
“Sleep Blondie.” He wishes anything but that, but he needs the silence, the time alone.
“Hmm… night Stevie…” And he knows your eyes are closed, that you mumble that with the last bit of strength you had. His eyes remain on the ceiling as his mind starts working, gears going round and round, going overtime.
He had been running from the definition of the feeling, even if he knew it was there, even if he accepted everything else that came with it. He kept running and running, and now he had hit a wall.
So it’s time to stop and turn around to face you.
Steve Harrington decides to stop running as he looks down at you and his lips press at the top of your head while his arms hold you tighter. You whine in your sleep, yet your cheek nuzzles even more into his chest.
He can’t deny you anymore. Not when you look like this in his arms. Not when you peppered his face with kisses he never received. Not when he saw you in a vulnerable moment of yours. Not when he gets to see you moan in pleasure because of him. Not when he gets to see you have fun with everyone else. Not when you saved his life, going headfirst for him. Not when you already send smiles his way that make his heart stop.
And if you wake up tomorrow with a headache, he will be waiting for you with coffee in hand, an advil, and some food, ready to help you. To take care of you. He will let you lay in his bed all the time you need, all in order to make you feel better.
Because Steve Harrington started feeling again.
He likes you. He terribly and adoringly likes you… and he is afraid because–
It’s nowhere near little. Not at all.
“Can’t believe I fell for you, Blondie.”
♡
tagging friends and mutuals!
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
#dwoht — chapter fifteen#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington blurb#stranger things angst
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STAYING FOREVER ─ s. gojo
SUMMARY : five times satoru has said your name with different kinds of emotions, and one time he said your name softly.
CONTENT : fluff, friends to lovers, angst, smut, s2 spoilers, sub!satoru, dom!fem!reader, riding, praise, dacryphilia (lots of crying), handjob, two orgasms, creampie, small aftercare
W. COUNT : 8,0k
AUT. NOTE : this took a ridiculous amount of time, and i’m still not satisfied with it !! :(
you gulped at the “welcome to jujutsu high” sign standing tall at the entrance of the school you were transferred to just a few days ago. apparently, it was due to your ‘ability to see curses’—mind you, what the hell was a curse anyway?
sure, some strange creatures always kept peeking out from behind the buildings whenever you were on your way to school or back, but you always thought you were just a bit insane. or at least, that’s what your parents, who couldn’t see curses, always told you.
years of therapy that you didn’t even need were hopeless to shut down your worries, and you sometimes wonder if you were just as out of your mind as everybody, even your friends think.
“aliens? cut that crap out, [name]!” they would laugh at you.
the information you have spilled to your therapist somehow reached yaga, the principal of the school you were walking through at the very moment, who wasted no time to reach out to you, happy to explain every one of your questions.
well, he wasn’t exactly happy to realize yet another bright teenager like you will spend years of torture and the burden of being a sorcerer, building up friendships just to watch them drop dead one by one—only to end up like them.
he didn’t tell you that because he knew you were already aware of the amount of pain you would go through once you accepted your position as a student at jujutsu high.
but it was worth a try, right?
you were currently following the principal. he told you to just stay quiet and let him introduce you to your new classmates and future mission partners.
the door into the classroom was slammed open by yaga, and his cold and stoic face matched his deep voice that echoed through the room, “good morning─”
“good morning, sensei!” a white-haired male yells from his seat, his grin spreading from one ear to another. your jaw dropped when you took a good look at him.
he was drop-dead gorgeous.
the iconic glasses he always used to wear were abandoned on his desk to reveal his vibrant blue eyes that could kill by the way they lit up the whole room—which was lowkey a bit creepy. nevertheless, the shade of the blue was just so hypnotic that you couldn’t look away.
the boy’s six eyes immediately get triggered under your stare, and he wastes no time to let his dramatic side out.
“sensei—” the male begins, taking a big inhale, and your face already cringes when you realize his plan is nothing else but to yell at the top of his lungs, “she’s staring!”
the classroom falls dead silent, and you watch the other male with a bun slap the back of the white-haired’s head. the girl next to them sat unbothered, her lips pursing at the awkward silence.
“satoru . . .” yaga warns him, making the boy flinch and shrink back to his seat with a wobbly but embarrassed smile that shows how much he’s prepared for the whole hour of scolding from the principal later.
the older man sighs, “this is your new classmate, [name].”
you stand in front of the board in silence as yaga begins to explain some things that are not related to you—instead, you pay attention to the gazes of the trio you just learned to recognize as your classmates.
a brunette girl on your right, closest to the window. a guy with a bun who was sitting in the middle. and, of course, a white-haired guy closest to the door. maybe that is why your eyes landed on him the second you stepped in.
from what you could tell, the black-haired male held zero judgment towards you by the way he offered you a friendly smile that made his eyes curl into the shape of a crescent moon. he looked kind, and you smiled back.
the girl was questionable at first. she looked up and down at you, and for a second, you were afraid her face would do the twist of disgust, and she would roll her eyes as most of the girls in your school did—but she didn’t. instead, she offered you the same smile the boy on her right did.
the white-haired male—satoru, as yaga mentioned—was a bit different. his reaction was rather interesting. aside from yelling at the top of his lungs that you were staring at him, he did exactly what you expected from the girl on the left.
“[name]?” satoru huffs in annoyance. he stared at you with a pout, his face twisting. but it wasn’t a judgmental twist that would make you burst out in tears and run away from the room—even when you didn’t say a single word, and your voice was still unknown to him.
“i don’t like her,” satoru huffs proudly. the attention he was expecting was far away from reality than he would like to admit. angry look from yaga, an annoyed look from his two other classmates, and a sad look from you.
maybe this was a sign for him to never speak again.
“suguru,” satoru whispered harshly, nudging his elbow into the boy’s side, who was already sending him an ‘are you serious’ look, “back me up!”
suguru clicked his tongue, “raise your hand if you care.”
the silence that fell right after suguru’s words was so damn awkward that even you couldn’t help but feel bad for the amount of embarrassment satoru must have felt after not a single person in the room raised their hand. his head hung low in shame, the sound of his forehead slamming against the desk only making others roll their eyes.
“i apologize for satoru’s behavior, [name]. please, feel free to take a seat.” yaga says, but immediately finds the issue of why you never sat down—the only available spot was right next to satoru. yaga clears his throat.
“suguru? shoko? please,” the principal didn’t have to repeat himself twice for the two of them to nod and switch their seats so that you could be as far as possible from satoru and his bratty personality.
the rest of the class period was quiet, but you could feel satoru’s gaze on you almost every five minutes—just about every time yaga turned his back to all four of you to write something on the board. so as soon as the teacher lifted the piece of chalk to write something, satoru had his head snapped in your direction.
“ignore him,” shoko whispered since even though satoru wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was so easy to pick up that even yaga, who had turned around for a while, knew what was going on behind his back.
after what felt like forever, the class came to an end—that couldn’t be said the same for satoru’s non-stopping stare that went on and on for the past hour without breaking. but once you found the courage to make eye contact with him, he was a long time gone.
you sigh in defeat and wonder if maybe next time you will be able to talk to satoru normally without him him having the need of digging blades into you with his stare.
“hey,” shoko spoke, “can i get your number?”
the weekend followed. you questioned why you had to be transferred to the school on friday and why they just couldn’t let you stay home for the weekend and then show you the school—but who are you to wander into yaga’s office and complain.
when shoko texted you just some location of a random street without telling you any context or clues, anxiety began to rise within your body. funny how a simple “meet us there” was able to shake you up so much.
no, they won’t kidnap you and beat you until death just because satoru was too picky with his choices of making new friends—you had to insure yourself.
“hey, you came!” shoko cheers as soon as you come into her vision, and you tell yourself that it wasn’t so bad, you were just overthinking again. a special habit you had for the longest time, “i’m glad you did.”
suguru nods with that same kind smile and adds, “we were afraid you wouldn’t show up.”
you smiled at their words, genuinely grateful you won’t spend all your sorcerer years as a punching bag for some mean kids who were raised without any sort of manners.
there were two other people, both male. the blonde one introduced himself quietly but with a hint of respect while the brunette one just shook your hand, looking like he was about to burst from having too much energy.
“we’ll go check the movie seats. wait here, okay?” shoko waved, and you nodded, soon enough finding yourself a nice empty bench while the other four entered the movie theater.
the streets were quiet, and you had to admit that it was quite relaxing. not until you heard heavy footsteps and a very familiar voice rushing right in your direction. you cursed under your breath.
“nooo! they went inside already?!” satoru dramatically collapses right next to you, the plastic bag that he was holding landing right on top of your lap. fortunately, none of the things ended up broken.
after satoru was done with his fake sobbing and whining about how he “checked the time multiple times” and “how dare they go inside without him”, he took the bag from your lap to his to open it.
“i’m sorry. about uh,” satoru clears his throat, “yesterday.”
for a second, you froze. apology from satoru gojo himself? oh, you were so flattered you could yell it out from the rooftops. but truth be told, you weren’t affected by his yesterday act at all. maybe that has something to do with your “people’s people” personality.
“oh, no, no!” you wave it off. satoru hears your voice for the first time, and he’s shocked about how sweet and gentle it sounds, “it’s okay, really─”
“no, i’m serious,” satoru cuts you off before you have the chance to rant about how truly you didn’t care and that sometimes, first impressions just don’t go as many people would like them to be, and that’s okay.
“i brought you this as an apology. i hope you like sweets as much as i do!” the sorcerer shoots you the same grin he did yesterday when greeting yaga. “please accept it. it was the last piece.”
satoru hands you a plastic box of edamame and cream kikufuku—a small tag hung from the side of it, and the price that was supposed to be on it was harshly ripped apart so you were unable to tell how much he spent.
you hummed, “thank you, gojo—”
“satoru. please, call me satoru.”
“okay, satoru.” you smile, feeling happy with the whole situation. at first, he was an asshole who looked like he wanted to throw you out of the classroom just because you were breathing, and now, he spent god-knowing how much yen just to buy you an apology gift.
“hey, the movie is starting—oh, satoru!” suguru’s smile got wider at the sight of his best friend and you sitting next to each other, satoru’s favorite kikufuku flavor on your lap.
satoru, immediately after hearing suguru’s voice, grinned and jumped up from his seat. you came running right after them, tightly holding the sweet dessert the white-haired boy had bought you close to your chest as if it was the most precious and important thing in the whole world.
the movie was, in your opinion, boring. supposedly, it was a famous summer horror that your classmates, along with haibara and nanami, wanted to see for the longest time.
the plot wasn’t even that bad, and it had the potential to be interesting if it wasn’t for the poor choice of actors in the movie. the budget was low too, and it showed. so the only thing you really could do was stare at the poor attempts of what was supposed to be a jumpscare.
“oh, man . . .” satoru groaned from beside you and gave in to the impulse thought of spreading his long, aching limbs everywhere they could fit—because he was the strongest, who was gonna stop him when his spreading arms would block their vision of the threader screen?
“this movie is boring!” the sorcerer was now spread all over his seat, your seat, and also you. the boy takes good notice of how you didn’t even look at him when his legs landed right on your lap and how you continued to stare at the screen with a blank expression.
satoru decided to push his luck to spread out even more than he already was. but this time, his head took the place of his legs—right on your lap. finally, you did look down at the recognition of something shaped like a head, and you smiled when you saw the white-haired boy grin up and you.
what you didn’t expect was when satoru’s thumb rose to flick his own forehead multiple times, mentioning for you to kiss the spot he had touched just now. and you listened. bending down a bit, your hand removed all the bangs his hand wasn’t able to scoop, and your lips contacted the skin of his forehead.
“didn’t know you would fall so easily, [name]!” satoru says teasingly, followed by a genuine chuckle. his toothy grin shoved appearance again, and you bit down your lip so as not to burst out laughing and ruin the movie experience for the other people.
a quit flash of a camera, “cut it out, lovebirds,” shoko had to lean over to whisper from her seat so that the guy, who was already glaring at her for taking a picture in the threader, wouldn’t bash her out.
“get a room, you two!” suguru chuckled from the other side and watched both of your faces catch an adorable shade of pink that would be hard to get rid of once the same thing might happen later.
because satoru is definitely getting another kiss from you.
“ew! look how ugly that is!” riko squeaked out of disgust, pointing at a strange-looking creature that desperately tried to bury itself back in the sand before another wave of ocean water arrived and filled the hole again.
the worm-like creature kept digging even after many failed attempts to disappear from the hungry seagulls who kept circling above the four of you for the past half hour.
“ew!” your boyfriend yelled, voice high-pitched when he burst out laughing at the poor animal trying, but failing, to borrow itself away from the flying predators, “don’t worry, princess!” he jumps in from of you, “i will protect you from that gut-wrenching alien!”
“it’s a sea cucumber,” you deadpan, watching suguru and riko chuckle at satoru’s reaction—which was giving you a long face before letting his head fall in defeat, close to throwing a tantrum, “help it, satoru.”
“you’re no fun!” the boy huffs but listens to you anyway. his colossal hands dug deep into the sand, and once reaching a good size, satoru stared at you in silence.
“what?” you question.
“come put the thing into the hole.” satoru gulps, wondering if you’re playing about being clueless about what he wants you to do, or if you’re dead serious.
“why?” you question again.
“it was your idea!” satoru yells. his voice held nervousness and more cracks than the strongest would like to admit.
“don’t tell me you’re scared.” you tease, earning a chuckle from suguru who leaned over your ear to whisper, “oh, he definitely is.”
satoru gasped, “no way!”
“just admit it, i won’t laugh—” you get cut off, needing to bite your lip in order not to burst out laughing because the strongest is afraid of a little sea cucumber.
“you’re already laughing!” the white-haired boy protests, pointing at you with one of his long and slim fingers that he didn’t dare to wrap around the animal.
you roll your eyes at the sorcerer and decide to put the situation into your own hands. so easily, you pick up the marine creature and put it into the hole that your boyfriend has dug. he, immediately, throws the leftover sand back at the sea cucumber right before another wave could come.
“i don’t want to see that alien near me ever again!” satoru made a fake gagging noise, holding you by your shoulder so that you won’t have the audacity to run away and find yet another sea cucumber—and maybe even chase him with it.
the sun began to set soon enough. the seagulls were gone, no longer praying on the poor sea cucumber. riko was wet from being thrown into the ocean water by satoru, and you and suguru spent a lot of time building a perfect sand castle. in secret, suguru would peek around, making sure all four of you were safe, and nobody was here to take the star plasma vessel away.
“we should go back,” suguru suggested, dusting his hands to get rid of the leftover sand he used to build a sandcastle. you nod at his words, turning around to call out for the two other idiots who are still in the water, “satoru! riko!” you yell, catching both of their attention.
satoru stuck out his tongue at the young girl before using his long legs to reach out to you and pick you up without effort. “you look ridiculous!” you squeaked. the leftover sunscreen that didn’t sink into his skin was decorating his cheeks and nose, making him look paler than he already was.
“back we go!” satoru yells, rushing past his best friend to be the first one to reach the hotel—with you still in his arms, looking like a princess the way he was holding you.
by the time satoru sets you down, you’re already in your hotel room. exhausted, you collapse on the bed, “i’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled into the sheets before you picked yourself up and grabbed your towel.
“alright, princess!” satoru grins from behind you, sending you a small wave before you disappear into the bathroom of your hotel. the sorcerer could finally let his grin drop, the same exhausted collapse on the bed following his mind.
but he couldn’t. he had to stay up for the sake of riko. even if it meant another sleepless night would have to haunt the already tired sorcerer. he was the strongest, after all. one night without sleeping won’t kill him.
“satoru?” you call out, confused. the room was empty by the time you stepped out of the shower—no sight of your boyfriend. your footsteps were quiet as you moved down the hall, only to find satoru sitting in the lobby alone.
you kneel in front of him, “you should sleep.”
“can’t,” satoru hums, “too dangerous.”
you sigh at his words. the whole star plasma vessel thing was fucked up and already made your head ache. and the fact you had to watch your boyfriend’s eyebags grow by each day wasn’t helping.
“don’t worry about me, [name],” satoru assured you as if reading your mind, voice visibly tired as he spoke.
“i’ll still worry about you,” you begin, placing a soft peck on his lips, “but i’ll let it go. just . . . don’t exhaust yourself too much, okay?” you blink up at him, and for the last time this long night, he shot you his iconic toothy grin.
you waved at him, ready to turn around and leave—as you were grateful he was sacrificing his own sleep hours so that you could have yours. not until you heard his sweet voice.
“don’t forget to dream about me!”
the first thing in the morning was your boyfriend clinging to your arm, asking: “did you dream about me?” with a pout and puppy eyes that begged you to play along and say—
“yeah,” you ruffle his hair, “i did, ‘toru.”
satoru does a girlish gasp, covering his open mouth with both of his hands like a high-school girl—partly mocking sweet riko, who was eyeing him from the other side of the public plane.
your boyfriend stuck out his tongue, earning a smack from suguru, “cut it out, satoru.”
satoru’s reaction was a huff and dramatic snap of his head towards your direction. you, too busy looking out of the window, didn’t notice his glare. offended by your “not on purpose” ignorance, satoru let out an even louder, and more dramatic huff.
“do you need something, satoru?” you ask, finally tearing your eyes from the amazing view you got from up here.
“your attention?” satoru grins, and once hearing your heavy sigh, he knew he won. spreading himself all over the place, his head landed on your lap just like it did the first time in the threader. the memory almost brought tears—
“hey!” suguru yells, eye-widened, “get your feet off me!”
you lean forward to take a better look, almost bursting out laughing. in order for satoru to place his head on your lap and fit into his seat at the same time, his long legs spread all over his best friend’s lap. poor suguru, of course, didn’t appreciate that kind of behavior.
“deal with it,” satoru mouths, fixing his glasses by using his middle finger to push it further up his nose—flipping off his best friend in his favorite way. suguru stared back at him in disbelief, shaking his head with squinted eyes.
satoru didn’t take his legs off suguru for the rest of the flight, and the other male had to just suck it up and let you and your boyfriend have a romantic moment. but suguru would lie if he said he wasn’t irritated by satoru’s smug grin when you massaged his scalp.
the strongest didn’t have to watch his buddy’s angry stare ever since he drifted off, leaving satoru and you alone for a few hours.
“princess?” satoru spoke, and even when he likes to bother his best friend any chance he gets, his tone is quiet, not to disturb his sleep. you hum, and he continues, “i love you.”
your eyebrows furrowed, “i love you too . . . is everything okay?” you ask just in case, not expecting him to say something so casual with such a strange expression.
for a second, satoru freezes. your eyes were so soft while you waited patiently for his answer, not rushing him and expecting an answer right away just like everybody else in his life did. he was the strongest, right? what took him so long to answer such a simple question?
“everything’s fine,” satoru assured you, but you didn’t fail to notice the desperate squeeze he gave your hand. your hand sent a squeeze back, and the boy relaxed back into your lap, nodding, “promise.”
“take a nap, okay?” you suggest. the flight will last longer than all of you thought it did, and a little taste of sleep did sound nice—satoru thought it through and nodded.
satisfied by his choice of answer, you shifted yourself a bit lower to give the sorcerer more room to fully relax. he was grateful that you didn’t want him to wake up with an aching neck and burning spine.
and trust me, he did thank you by the time all of you woke up and stepped out of the plane. but now, as you walked up the many stairs of the jujutsu high, your legs ached for just a quick break.
“so─many─stairs!” you huff and take a step up with every pause, earning a shit-eating grin from your boyfriend who was able to walk up multiple stairs at once without even breaking a sweat.
“we’re almost inside the jujutsu high’s barrier,” suguru says out loud, and you wish you could just tell him that the fact he just mentioned didn’t help your aching legs or your tired brain that was overthinking all flight after satoru fell asleep.
speaking of satoru—he kept grinning all the way upstairs, never once leaving your side. as if he wanted to watch you suffer with each step.
“i could always carry you, you know?” satoru’s annoying grin got wider, if that’s even possible, as he was eager to watch your reaction. you, of course, turned him down.
the second you pass the last stair, you bend over to catch your hands on your knees. the way you gulped and gasped for air made suguru laugh as he praised everyone for making it to the top.
your eyes rolled back in “pleasure” when the jujutsu high barrier’s cold air made contact with your sweaty skin, and you sighed in relief. the only thing you needed right now was a cold shower.
the comforting feeling left as fast as it came when a warm liquid splashed your cheeks. horrified, your eyes shifted to your left to find the source—only the find your boyfriend with a sword pierced through his torso.
“satoru!” a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the whole jujutsu high campus called out his name, and suguru wasted no time to rush to you, who were already running to your boyfriend.
suguru’s curse was quick to send the attacker away, but when you reached out to help satoru, his palm stopped you right away. “i’m fine,” he smiled, acting like his uniform was not completely soaked in blood.
you were still in shock, unable to choke out anything “just ‘cause your boyfriend was fucking stabbed in front of you and his blood was on your face.” satoru felt bad for the scene he caused—even suguru and riko were worried.
“[name],” satoru said sternly, one hand cupping your cheek to fully ground you into listening to his words. which were, according to him, very important, “you and suguru, take riko and flee. i’ll finish him off.”
you wanted to slap satoru—scream and yell at him for how insane he must have to be to just tell you to leave him all by himself while you, suguru, and riko ran to safety. but then again, he was the strongest. who were you to argue with someone like him in a situation like this?
so you nodded, took riko by her arm, and together with the other sorcerer that was already waiting for your lead, you ran. there was only one thing you could do—believe in him.
“believe in the strongest,” you have told yourself, having enough faith in satoru to let him fight someone who was able to trick his infinity and land a perfect stab that made the time itself pause, letting everybody process that fact.
satoru would laugh, “a perfect stab? he wasn’t even able to hit my fetal organs!” you could already imagine the cocky grin he would shoot you just to make you feel less worried.
but now, the strongest has been announced dead.
the moment those words reached your brain, you were already thrown to the ground with a gun pointing at your motionless body. you could pick yourself up and continue the fight—but what was life without satoru, the only thing that made your life as a sorcerer not so miserable?
your face was still covered in satoru’s blood, which was now dried up. even while finding the motivation to raise your hand and clean your skin, the blood was simply too hard and stuck to your face.
your cheek lay against the cold concrete as you didn't have the energy to get up from the position the man had thrown you into. now, you were basically forced to watch suguru’s curses destroy the temple in the hope of killing whoever started this.
but is this what you really wanted? was this something that satoru would wish you to do? lay down and hear suguru’s screams whenever he got slashed across the chest, or even slammed into the hard walls of the buildings?
maybe you did consider yourself useless, but against the man who killed satoru gojo himself, everybody was—even suguru. but the difference is that he didn’t give up. hearing his best friend die stung, and so did the death of riko when he watched a bullet fly straight into her brain and watch her drop dead right in front of him. but suguru dusted himself off and kept fighting.
but by the time you somehow managed your shaky arms to support your weight to sit up, the man was gone—and so was riko’s body. you were useless to protect the girl and fight against the enemy.
the least you could do was limp all the way to suguru and help him reach shoko in time. you already lost one fucking important person in your life and you were sure as hell not gonna lose another one. so you ignored the burning feeling in your legs and dragged the male to shoko.
during suguru’s treatment, you stayed quiet. the cold wall that pressed against your back triggered every one of your nerves—if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been shut down the moment you received the news about satoru—but you were too weak to even pull away.
“[name],” yaga’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, disoriented eyes weakly lifting to meet his, “satoru’s alive.”
star religious group facilities—you never ran so fast in your life like you did right now. from one place to another, you cursed yourself for the members who have built some many of these places, as if one wasn’t enough.
“slow down!” suguru yelled. you didn’t listen, jumping off one of his curses to reach another building where you were supposed to meet satoru. so far, it was no good, and both of you were unable to spot the familiar white hair you grew to love.
the door was harshly torn open, and you were ready to let out a disappointing whine at the lack of people in the room. the thought was far from reality.
a bright room filled with hundreds of people, all dressed in white. the clapping sound of their palms directly hitting against each other made your ears ring. even suguru, who was peeking out from behind you, began to worry at your reaction.
the room went quiet when your eyes landed on the tall man walking right towards you. people didn’t stop clapping, and suguru’s mouth moved but no words came out.
there he was─the strongest, alive.
“you’re late, suguru, [name] . . .” satoru’s tone had caught you off guard. he sounded so emotionless, and his stare was blank, not a single ounce of his personality showing. the light in his eyes died too, making you choke up a sob you didn’t dare to release.
there was no need to cry. satoru was right in front of you, alive. his heart was beating, and every fetal wound he had back then was gone.
“should we kill these guys? the way i feel right now, i doubt i’d feel anything about it,” satoru asks. you froze, blinking.
the strongest was far away from being fine. later that day, all three of you returned home with a new kind of trauma that would haunt you for the rest of your life. but that was the life of a sorcerer. helping the weak and taking all the burden on yourself so that others don’t have to.
satoru was a bit shook up, only capable of creating a small form of sentences—a good start. but in the morning, he’ll be the same sunshine as he always is. that was all you could think about as you dragged your soap-covered hands up and down satoru’s back, watching all the blood fall by your feet and drench somewhere into the sewers.
shoko had already cleaned you up, but when satoru was already fast asleep in the comfort of his bed, you stayed up all night to dig your fingers into your skin in the hope of getting rid of the feeling of satoru’s blood on your face.
something like this will never happen again, you swear.
“great. now you need to add—” whatever came out of the woman’s mouth next was just blurred-out words—good for nothing sentences as you stared at the burnt pancakes with horror in your eyes.
months passed since the star plasma vessel accident, and you have grown more comfortable. satoru has been doing better too, not affected by the past events anymore.
now, you stood in the middle of the jujutsu high dorm’s kitchen. the food you have been currently working on has been burned into near ashes, making you question your cooking skills.
soon enough, you grew tired of the smell and decided to clean up so the other students wouldn’t have to work in a mess you created by your poor attempt at the evening snack.
you left the window open just in case your nose got too used to the smell, and the others would have different experiences with the terrible smell—avoiding scolding from yaga, who would never allow you to cook again. even if it meant for you to starve.
but when you returned to your dorm room, your moment of peace and quiet didn’t last as long as you wanted it to be. a small and almost shy knock came from the direction of the wooden door. too curious to ignore the person and throw yourself on the soft cushions of your bed, you rushed to answer whoever was waiting outside.
you were shocked to make eye contact with satoru, whose teary eyes and irregular breathing hinted to you he was on the verge of a panic attack—your thoughts were confirmed when a heart-breaking sob left escaped his mouth.
“h-he left . . .” satoru whispered, lips trembling. before you were given the chance to ask something, you watched him gasp for air with a pained expression, “he fucking left me!”
you stood frozen—who left? you don’t recall any news from yaga that was more recent than a few weeks ago. through the months of being a sorcerer, you never experienced the loss of someone who would decide to leave the school.
perhaps you misunderstood, and satoru was hinting at some random friend of his that he had never mentioned before. maybe they passed away, leaving your boyfriend shaking and in tears as he knocked on your door. but even then, whose absence could affect him this much?
“suguru!” satoru sobs as if he had taken your confused face as a hint for him to explain. unfortunately, his brain was mush at the moment, and the only thing he wanted to think about was getting rid of all the sadness—with your help.
“suguru? what do you—satoru, don’t . . .” you slurred out when you felt his hand weakly tug at your pants, and you immediately knew what his intentions were. you couldn’t allow him to trust you with removing his sadness, not when it involved a still unknown situation with suguru.
“p-please! please, please, please!” satoru sobs, even louder than his first try was. obviously, he wanted you to pity him and give in to drown him in the pleasure he needed so badly.
you shook your head, sternly stating: “satoru, no.” but his loud cries never died down—in fact, they only increased at your rejection. he just wanted for you to let him escape reality, so why did you keep saying no?
satoru fully broke down, hugging your waist from his kneeling position as if his life depended on it. “n-need you, please. just this once . . .” the puppy eyes he had given you was something he used only to really convince you to do something. but even then, he never used it in a serious situation like this.
“not right now, satoru,” you slowly lift him up, forcing small steps out of him before he collapses on your bed, “you’re in pain right now, you don’t realize what you’re saying. by the time you sober up, you’ll regret what you’ve asked for . . .”
the strongest shook his head and kept clinging to you like a baby koala, too afraid to face the reality of the world. what you were saying was true, and satoru’s actions weren’t as healthy as they sounded—but why did it hurt this much?
“b-but—” satoru gasps at the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he tries to confront you about whatever is happening right now but fails to do so, sobbing with frustration, “just this once . . . all i’m asking for—please!”
you weren’t sure for how long you could keep up with your rejecting act—you wanted to take away all of his problems and satisfy all his fantasies that currently fogged up his mind, so when he blinked up to you with those pretty long white lashes, you gave in with a sigh. “just this once, ‘toru.”
you gently laid him down, using pillows and blankets to make a spot comfortable enough to let him fully sink into the moment. satoru, carefully picking, chose a safeword in case the moment wasn’t as dreamy as he expected it to be.
everything was fine. satoru gave you his consent multiple times to the point he thought you were planning to edge him the whole night—tears appeared in his eyes again.
the first kiss of the night was gentle, mostly just helping to distract satoru when your hand traveled all the way down in order to wrap around his graciously pretty cock. you coo at his whimpers, “i know, i know.”
satoru moaned the second you gave him a few testing pumps, looking out for any sight of discomfort or pain.
“more,” the white-haired boy whispers when he decides the stimulation of a few “testing” pumps isn’t enough, and he wants the full experience that you were willing to give him. so carefully, your wrist moved faster.
everything was spinning. getting so much movement on his poor virgin cock from something else that wasn’t his own hand when he jerked off was a different feeling—a new kind of feeling that satoru began to like more and more.
when you increased the speed to keep the pleasure going, your thumb accidentally brushed over his tip. you mentally slapped yourself, noting to be careful next time. but satoru didn’t seem to mind. not when his back arched off the bed with a loud mewl escaping his lips.
“oh, you liked that?” you cooed at him and repeated the same process of rolling your finger over his tip. satoru’s reaction was the same, just slightly more intense with the way his cock shamelessly released an impressive amount of pre-cum.
satoru kept liking all the interactions you had with his cock so far, so the level of enjoyment didn’t decrease once your hand moved faster with the help of the sparse liquid.
the rest of his shaft became wet and slippery, basically letting you just guide your fingers to the tip before letting them fall down to the base. somehow, the movements seemed to trigger something inside the sorcerer when a fucked-out giggle left his throat.
“s-so good—it’s so good!” satoru hiccups between his words, mainly babbling to himself. and truth be told, he didn’t really care if you thought his behavior was weird. fortunately for him, you weren’t one to judge, not in a moment like this, and you kept going.
your hand shifted in different ways, looking out for places that were more sensitive than others in a way satoru could not describe. the male took an immense liking to the area near his tip, or even the tip itself—you noted and kept stimulating the same spot that made his eyes roll.
“c-close!” satoru’s tone was almost shy as he spoke. the familiar burning feeling inside his stomach rose at a rapid speed. he began to squirm underneath you of the sudden pleasure that harshly flexed his tummy, “g-gonna cum!”
“mhm,” you were quick to coo at him with small kisses all over his face. but your innocent touches failed to distract satoru’s attention from your brutal strokes of his cock that were successful to send him over the edge.
“c-cumming!” satoru’s voice was high-pitched before his orgasm washed over his body for the first time of the night. when his release landed all over his tummy, you hummed a praising sound that left the sorcerer trembling. but it was not enough. satoru wanted more.
you checked up on him, making sure he was alright after such an intense orgasm that looked almost painful in a way you couldn’t describe. oh, if only you knew how much pleasure he was in—you would have kept going without a question or pause.
“are you okay, sweet boy?” your gentle voice made satoru feel like he was floating somewhere in heaven. somewhere far away from all the pain and the burden of the world he had to carry as the strongest. especially after failing to protect so many people in his life.
satoru choked on his own sob, and his face was quick to twist from extraordinary pain at the memory from earlier. you still didn’t know what was happening because if you did, suguru would have ended up with a few broken bones for hurting his best friend in such a cruel way.
but you didn’t know, not yet. so you held satoru close to your chest in an attempt to soothe his cries. you’ve already told yourself the session was over when the male shook in your arms from the mix of his orgasm and whatever happened between his and suguru.
but to your surprise, satoru didn’t take this as the end. no, he craved—“o-one more . . . please!” he whimpered against your chest with teary eyes tightly shut. he didn’t want you to see him like this. not when he was so vulnerable.
something about the way satoru kept clinging to you as if you were to disappear made your eyes soften. the sorcerer was so close to escaping the misery that you couldn’t just decline now. with a sigh, you nodded.
satoru expected another handjob—that’s why he kept his eyes shut and let you shift positions so that you could get the work done easier. but when he felt something warm lowering itself on his cock, he gasped.
“shhh,” you whisper, cradling his head back to the original position on your chest before satoru can do it himself. if he knew that knocking at your door with tears in his eyes would lead to you riding him, he would have much sooner.
the moment you were adjusted to his size, your hips began to rock themselves against his. you moved slowly, carefully dragging whimper after whimper from the boy underneath you, who was currently staring at you with blown-out eyes.
you were a goddess to satoru—you had to be. the way you gently caressed his hair, the way you prepped small kisses on his face, the way you moved slowly so that satoru could preserve every roll of your hips.
right now, he wasn’t the “god” who shifted the balance of the world due to his birth. in this situation, you were.
satoru broke down crying, but what he admired the most about you was that you didn’t stop. long ago, he told you to keep going, that he’s okay because he wants this. and you listened to him, not daring to pause your movements.
the boy whispered something, but it was faint. you weren’t able to pick up a single word he tried to say, feeling bad for not being able to respond to him—solid proof that you’re listening. but satoru was too deep into this, and thanks to his constant babbling, you were able to hear his thoughts.
“d-don’t leave . . .” satoru whispered, a bit louder than last time. it was still uncharacteristically quiet for somebody like him, but you were lucky for this position to give you better access in order to hear him.
satoru sobbed this time, fingers digging into every inch of your skin that he could reach. at this point, he was basically dragging you down with him, and you weren’t even allowed to rise yourself anymore to properly ride him.
the strongest, for the first time in his life, was terrified. he was too shaken from the events earlier, and the thought of you following the same path as suguru made him shake in terror. he couldn’t let you leave, not now.
“p-please don’t leave!” satoru wailed, “n-not you! anyone but you! i-i can’t—” his sobs continued on, and on for quite a while, and your hands ended up cupping his tear-stained red cheeks.
“i’m not leaving. you know i won’t . . .” you whisper. one of satoru’s hands flew to yours, weakly interlocking his pinky with yours.
satoru sniffed, “promise?” he could only choke out much, his throat raw from the previous breakdown—not like he cared either way, he was just too tired to try to get his voice to work normally. you nodded, “promise.”
that’s all it took to make satoru’s grip on your skin loose. he no longer held onto your shoulder with a death grip like you were to get up and leave, no. he allowed you to move after you made your promise of not leaving him.
satoru had to choke up another sob when your hand moved to catch his, bringing it up to your lips. you took your time with the kisses, making sure to leave no place untouched.
his knuckles were white from the grip he had on the sheets, or maybe even your skin earlier. you weren’t sure which one was it, since both of them were pretty brutal and made the skin over his bones look paler than usual.
when your lips moved to his palm, you noticed a fresh open cut. the wound held a shape of thin lines that looked almost way too familiar to his fingernails. you took a mental note to ask about it later—once he’s mentally ready.
you placed the last kiss on the nail on his middle finger that held an unhealthy color due to being squeezed for too long. whatever happened with him and suguru, if satoru thought about using that technique, it must have been serious.
satoru was too deep in his thoughts by the time your hips started to move again. the feeling of your slow movements made his eyes roll back to the back of his skull. he thought you being rough with him would be the best option for his brain to shut down—but once tasting the gentleness from your slow pace, satoru chose a winner.
“you’re doing so good, pretty boy. keep breathing through your nose,” you praise him, knowing it will catch his full attention before taking the opportunity to remind him to breathe properly, not wanting his sobbing mess to catch another near panic attack.
satoru blinks up at you through those long, white eyelashes that are soaked and stuck together with his tears. his blue eyes look majestic—they always do, but now, they are just so pretty and glossy from the salty liquid on his waterline.
every time your hips rose before slamming down, the tears threatened to escape. whatever it was rolling down his red cheeks or falling on his thighs, satoru struggled to keep them stay in place.
“i-i tried to stop him—” you carefully listened to his words as he did his best to speak through his heavy breathing of his incoming orgasm, “i really did! b-but he—oh god!” his words were cut where you sped up the pace.
“you did well,” you whisper, being gentle as ever when placing a soft kiss near his ear. “i don’t really know what happened between the two of you,” you admit, ignoring satoru’s high-pitched noises as he began to claw at your skin when his tummy begins to flex again.
“but i know you did a fucking good job,” you finish, and he does too. satoru screams into your shoulder that had been marked with his well-kept nails, sobbing along his release. you kept stroking his hair, feeling his cum fill you up.
the milky ring appears soon enough, and your hips finally come to a stop. satoru didn’t complain this time, letting you coo at him and whisper sweet nothing’s into his ear. telling him what a “good boy” he was, and how he “took it so well”
he didn’t feel so miserable now. the memory of suguru’s back turned to him as he walked out of his life will never leave his mind. it will never not haunt him everywhere he goes—the burning feeling inside his chest will forever stay.
but somehow, he couldn’t think about it when your gentle touches were pulling him to cloud nine. the way your hand caressed his thighs while the other one dragged the wet towel to clean up the mess you two made while his head was gently placed upon your pillow gave him butterflies.
the lipgloss he always wore was dried out now, making the skin feel weird and wobbly. but satoru found the strength to tear his lips apart and say what he wanted you to know.
“[name] . . .” satoru whispered softly, “thank you.”
#niluffa#gojo#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#sub gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#sub satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#sub jjk x reader#sub gojo#sub gojo satoru#dom reader#sub satoru#sub gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#RAHHH IDK HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS :((#5+1 things#5 + 1 fic#5+1 times
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Emergency Contact (2/2) (Ghost x GN!Reader)
-> PART ONE OF EMERGENCY CONTACT
Summary: You never expected Simon to come to your aid, and Simon assures you that he would come every single time.
A/N: I genuinely appreciate the support of this concept <3 I truly did not expect so many people to want a part two, so here it is! please rb with what you think, i love to hear y’all’s thoughts! i’m honestly not the happiest with this, but i did what i could. i may rewrite this in the future.
[WARNINGS: Hospital setting, fluff, hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, ooc Simon.]
IT TAKES YOU FOUR DAYS to wake up. Four entire days for you to even move an eye muscle. Four days of anxiety, of Simon lying in wait, waiting for sign of life. Despite the doctors’ assurances of your condition, the confirmed brain activity, Simon was panicking.
He just couldn’t lose you, too. Not when he has such a great thing going for him, so when he learns you’re in a mini coma—induced by your own body to allow your body to rest and heal, he can’t help but freak out. His mind screaming that you’ll never wake up, that you’ll always by lying in a hospital bed, until someone in your family decides to come and pull the plug. He tried to keep himself preoccupied—he read books and articles on his phone, memorized each time the nurses came in to check your vitals, he even texted Price an update about his situation—it wasn’t much information, but he said something along the lines of something happened at home and he thinks his leave with have to be for a month, but there’s a good chance it might be longer.
Simon barely left the room—he couldn’t. Not when at any moment you could wake up, or any moment you could’ve died. He didn’t manage much sleep, either. Every time he managed to fall asleep, the same nightmare would play; what he imagined how your accident went. He imagined you walking down on the sidewalk towards the crosswalk down a street you both frequented together. You were always careful when walking—he knew you were having car troubles for the last few weeks. You press the button on the crosswalk pole to trigger the lights to turn red. Cars slow to a stop, and your crosswalk signs turns to a walking man. You quickly hurry across the crosswalk, but a car comes speeding down—and smashes right into you, full speed, sending you across the road. Simon is just standing there, watching. Completely unable to help. He always wakes up once he walks up to your mangled body.
Simon gasps quietly and jolts awake again, blinking the bleariness away, and the slow beeps and exhales of your machines come back. His rapid heartbeat begins to slow as he realizes that he’s still beside your hospital bed. He looks at you—you’re no longer on a ventilator, but you have an oxygen mask, a way to help your collapsed lung. It makes him feel a bit better, but Simon would very much prefer your eyes to be open, your fingers moving against the blanket you’d likely hate the texture of when you woke up—if you woke up—and he would want to feel your muscles moving under your skin. He also tries to ignore the fear of you having Amnesia after waking up.
Simon isn’t sure when he laid his head back down, but it shoots back up the second he hears a quiet noise escape you—it’s the first sign of life to Simon, his wide eyes scanning your body. His eyes fly to your hand, your fingers twitching a bit. Simon grabs ahold of your twitching hand immediately and looks at your face and he isn’t so sure why his heart is pounding beneath his ribs, but he doesn’t have too much time to focus on it as your arm twitches. It’s like you’re slowly coming back to life in a weird way, but Simon finds himself totally silent, like he can’t find the right words to say just yet. He doesn’t mean to hold his breath, but he does as he watches your shoulder twitch next, and then your eyebrows furrow. Your eyes are already closed, but you squeeze your eyelids together harder. Simon realizes that you haven’t had your eyes open for about four days, so he quickly dims the rooms lights and returns right back next to you. Simon reaches for your hand and gently holds it, watching you slowly get your surroundings.
Your eye flutter open slowly and you blink, and it’s obvious you don’t immediately process that you’re in the hospital. A croaky moan of discomfort leaves you and Simon sits up, the worry eating at his stomach. You look at Simon with unfocused and exhausted eyes and your eyebrows furrow again and your lips part.
“..Simon?”
He releases the breath he was holding and he nods, his black mask slightly moving as his lips move. “I’m right here, [name]. Right here.” Simon absolutely hates how shaky his voice is, and he watches you bit your lip as your eyes begin to fill with tears. His heart skips a beat—what’s wrong? Are you in pain? Are you scared? Simon decides he needs to know because he can fix it, he can help you, right? He needs to fix it—“Y.. You came for me..” You whisper, blinking a tear rolls down your cheek to your jaw quickly. Simon’s own eyebrows furrowed—did you think he wouldn’t? “Of course I did, love.” He murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I will always come for you.” You try to hold in the quiet sob, but your shoulders begin to shake. Simon reaches up and gently wipes away a tear with his thumb while he squeezes your hand. “No tears now, hm? You’ve.. You’ve survived the impossible.” Simon says, forcing his voice to be steady. His eyes begin to burn with his own set of tears forming. “I came as soon as I heard, [name]. Don’t ever think I wouldn’t come for you.“
Your lower lip curls as you try to not cry from his sentiment; this is the man who took you in after losing everything, and it took him a long while to even let you know of his actual name, let alone see his face unmasked. This is the man who does not tell you the details of his job, but you know that he could be killed from it. This is the man who sits next to you near his windowsill when you both can’t sleep—the man who wakes up, just knowing something is up. He makes you a cup of your favorite morning drink whenever he can, he signs his sticky notes with a poorly drawn skull instead of his name, he makes piss poor dad and army type jokes, annoys you with his cockiness and bought you a damn mattress and bed-frame—even thought he never had to. He remembers the little things about you, your favorite shows and games—your favorite books, your favorite foods, hell, he remembers every little awful story about your workplace and your job. He’s always been like a wild animal—you come too close and he flees, but if you’re patient do what he needs, he’ll come to you.
Simon blinks away the tears and he clears his throat, his voice hesitant as he speaks. “You made me your emergency contact.” His tone isn’t questioning or warbling in any way—he says it like a statement, a fact, which it is. You laugh quietly which quickly turns into a grimace, causing Simon’s thumb to stop moving over your knuckles for a moment. Of course any movement or sound would hurt. “I.. I had to put one down, I just.. put the first person who came to mind.. Y’know?” You murmured nervously. Simon’s breath hitches for a moment and he only responds with a “mmh” for the time being, which definitely makes you way more nervous than you started out to feel. Your heart monitor spikes for a moment, causing Simon to speak up. “Hey—just relax, okay? M’not mad, love. Not mad at all,” He begins. He glances away from you for a moment before looking back with such a vulnerable look—like he’ll break at any moment. “It was just.. a surprise. That’s all.” But both of you know it was more than just a surprise. It was a small declaration of prioritizing each other—you setting him as the first person to be notified for an emergency, and his acceptance of this role. Simon never thought he would be sitting here, beside anyone else than his teammates in a hospital setting.
Simon isn’t sure when he fell in love with you. Whether it was the first moment he laid eyes on you or way later down the road—he doesn’t know. What he does know is that this.. feeling, isn’t as scary as it used to be. People getting close to him used to terrify him and it still does—but.. there’s something about you. Something about you that makes Simon feel safe. Makes him feel like he doesn’t have to sit in the corner to watch the entire room, you make him feel like he doesn’t have to sleep with a hunting knife stashed under his pillow. You make him feel like he doesn’t have to question your motives with anything you do, you make Simon feel like he can just sit down and relax without having to worry about, well.. anything else besides from the question of what you’ll have for dinner that night. He tries to hold in the shuddery breath and when he can’t, his eyes dart away to your arm. You open your lips to speak again, but you begin to cough. Simon grabs the paper cup of water that has a straw in it that he’s prepared for you everyday just in case you had woken up and he slots the straw between your lips, which you greedily accept and drink down the cold water. It soothes the ache in your throat from being on the ventilator and from not speaking for a couple of days. Once you’re satisfied, he places the cup back on the side table. “Hey, Si,” You croak, your fingers weakly squeezing his hand. Simon’s eyes immediately meet yours again, searching for any hint of pain. You lick your lips, a light smile coming to them. “Two blondes walk into a bar. You’d think one of ‘em would’ve seen it.” He stares at you for a moment, his eyebrows raising. “Did.. Did you just..” You laugh weakly and nod, looking at him. “I did.” You clear your throat again and squeeze his fingers. “Did it because you’re in your head.. Don’t hafta think so.. so much when you’re with me, Simon.”
Simon brushes his thumb over your knuckles once again and he can’t help but silently agree—he doesn’t have to think about anything right now, he can just sit here, with you—even if it’s in a place like this, with you in a condition like that. Simon looks at you and you look back at him, into his soul—and for the first time, he doesn’t want to look away.
taglist;; @alwaystired--neversleeping @handsomeunderwear-art @indefenseofkara @kaysav608 @1-is-loneliest-number @rosee-sensuelle @kitty-satan1 @k4marina @rahmown @royalty-purple @bowtruckleninja @cumikering @silent-neptune @purechaosss @hauntedpass @mxtokko @meimhem [crossed out = not able to tag sorry!]
#call of duty#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mw2#mw2022#call of duty mwii#mw2 2022#cod#modern warfare ii#ghost x gn!reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader#simon riley x gn!reader#gn!reader#gender neutral reader#modern warfare two#modern warfare#modern warfare 2#modern warfare fanfiction#modern warfare 2 x reader#modern warfare ghost#cod mw ghost#call of duty mw2#mw2 fanfic#cod mwii#ghost mw2#mw2 x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost mwii#crowd favorite
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Just thinking about the common experience of late diagnosed disabled people of “the normal amount of pain is none” and how we’re just supposed to know that despite *some* level of pain being OUR normal for our entire lives, even if it’s usually not super bad it’s just always there.
Thinking about how, when I told my mother this, she asked me “So what’s hurt?” Which is very different than “what hurts?”
I looked at her, confused. “Nothing is hurt. I just hurt.”
And she says “But where do you hurt?”
“Well, right now it’s my stomach and my ankles-“
She cuts me off. “So you twisted your ankle?”
“No,” I say. “My ankles just hurt. I’ve been walking today.”
Now it’s her turn to look confused. “Just walking doesn’t make your ankles hurt. You must have sprained them or something.”
But I shake my head. “Nope. This just happens on days when I walk more than a little bit. My ankles hurt first, then my knees by lunch time. And if I don’t take a nap and stay on my feet all day, my hips will be hurting too.”
“Oh.”
Joint pain is my normal. Sometimes, if I barely walk all day, the ache in my ankles is barely noticeable and doesn’t affect my functioning because I’m used to it. If I do what most able-bodied people would consider to be a “normal” amount of walking, almost all of my joints will hurt by supper. If I have to wash dishes or run any errands, I’ll hurt so bad I can’t walk for the rest of the day.
Then there’s the chronic migraine attacks. I used to have them multiple times a week as a child, and no matter how I explained myself, nobody ever understood that they weren’t just headaches. I experienced those too, and frequently, but they were not the same. Thankfully, at the age of eleven, I found an article explaining migraine triggers. I was able to identify a few of my own triggers, and the frequency of my migraine attacks reduced to maybe a couple a month. For a few years I was basically on cloud nine, I’d never experienced such a lack of pain before and it was so freeing. Unfortunately, migraine is a progressive condition, so the attacks have gotten more frequent over the years.
And then there’s the ���random” pains. Some mornings I wake up and my stomach hurts. Or my chest. Or my back. These are just things I have to live with, because my body’s connective tissue is… well, for lack of a better word, faulty. And I never knew that other people didn’t experience this, because how could I? We never talked about it. Sometimes I’d hear people complain about back aches and just assume they were like mine. Of course, I knew that injuring yourself could cause muscle aches, obviously. But I just assumed that *most* of the time, other peoples bodies hurt like mine did. I didn’t realize that humans aren’t supposed to “just hurt” without a connected incident.
And when I try to explain this to able bodied people, their response is always the same. “Well, everyone’s back hurts sometimes.” “Everybody gets headaches sometimes.” “You’re not special just because you’re too lazy to walk. I still go to work when I don’t feel good.” And no matter how many times I try to say that No, you don’t get it, I *always* hurt, they still brush me off and dismiss me.
#connective tissue disorder#hypermobilty syndrome#joint pain#migraine#chronic migraine#migraine attack#invisible disability#spoonie#disabled#disability rant#nightramblestm
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Matt (or chris) fic where the reader is like sooo distant that matt (or Chris) become desperate to know what's wrong? Like to the point where he's begging her.
"Please. I NEED to know what's wrong so I can fix it."
PLS 🤭🤭
I’ll Always Be There For You – (M.S.)
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader
Summary: When you begin to face problems, you distance yourself from the one person you know you could go to and he notices.
Word Count: 670+
Warning/s — OOC idk help / Nothing (???)
A/N: I dont think I followed this request fully soz, WHERE HES BEGGINGGG OH SO UR SICK.
You had no intention of putting up a wall between you and Matt. It didn’t serve any purposes and you knew that. You also knew talking about what was going on would help in a way. So why were you suddenly doing things different?
You weren’t sure yourself.
And you had thought you were doing a subtle job at doing so, until you apparently weren’t when you received a text saying ‘Unlock your door. Be there in fifteen, let’s talk about you.’
‘Let’s talk about you’, let’s! Or, we can talk about how many… insults were thrown at you a day, ultimately bringing your mood down for over a week. Just for being in a relationship with your boyfriend.
Upon reading that message, your eyebrows furrowed. You wanted to tell him no, that you weren’t able to hang out or talk. But as you reevaluated his message, you realized he had sent it almost ten minutes ago, earning a groan. You ran a hand through your hair as you slipped on your shoes. Quickly making your way into your living room and towards the front door, refraining from, yet again, letting out a noise of frustration when you heard a car, his car, pull into your driveway.
Accepting your defeat, you unlocked and opened the front door. Crossing your arms over your chest, waiting for him.
When his figure appears from around the corner, you still. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice cracking in the process. Well! “I don’t know if I can talk for long, what happened—”
“Are you okay?” Matt interjected, his tone stern, completely ignoring what you had just said.
“I— What?” You stammered, tilting your head. “I’m fine, are you okay?”
“Don’t lie to me.” Quickly adding, “Please.”
As you locked eyes with him, you could sense his concern, and it triggered a pang of guilt within you. You’ve had this discussion before, coming up with a solution that did work for a while, until it didn’t. And as if he could see right through you, he spoke once more. “You can tell me, Y/N. Anything. You know that.”
Your shoulders slumped, “I know.”
“Then what’s wrong,” He softly spoke, gently grasping both your hands. Slowly guiding you backwards, allowing the two of you to enter your house. Releasing your hands momentarily, he turned around and securely shut the door, locking it.
As you continue to remain silent, he lowers his head so he’s eye-to-eye with you, his hands moving to your shoulders, “Please. I need to know in order to help, Y/N. Let me help you.”
Reluctantly, you give in. “If you say I’m being overdramatic—”
He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “I won’t, of course I won’t. You know I won’t.”
“Right,” you murmur, “I know I said I wouldn’t check my comments on anything, but I was curious. I saw what was being said about me, and it just, I don’t know.”
Matt’s expression softens even more (if possible), “You should’ve told me. I could’ve said something.”
You looked down, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulder. Seeing this, he raised his hand and gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear. With his hand now on your cheek, you fought the temptation to lean into his touch as you uttered your next words. “You have already and clearly, it didn’t matter. Listen, it’s fine, I’m fine. Like I said, it just put me in a mood for a couple days.”
“It’s not, though.” The boy mumbled, holding your gaze. “You shouldn’t be criticized for being with me, and I’m sorry. I’ll talk with Nick and Chris about it, we can say something about it again, yeah?”
You allowed a smile to slowly make its way onto you face, “Okay, yeah.”
As he embraces you, his hands gently encircle your waist, drawing you closer. Your arms instinctively find their place around his neck. “Do you want to stay? We can watch a movie or something.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t talk for long,” he muttered against your neck, laughing as you pulled away soon after. “I’m kidding, yes.”
DT(s) — @bellelovesmen, @agirlsrage ! ౨ৎ
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x fem!reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x y/n#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo fluff#fem!reader#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets fanfic#sturniolo triplets matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo one shot#jilval#godspeed - frank ocean
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Escaping reality
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: Azriel accidentally makes you feel bad when he jokes about the types of books you read. Nesta tears him a new one when she finds out what he said and reveals why you’re so attached to that book.
Warning: angst, mention of attempt of SA. Cassian is protective of the reader. Nesta sees her as a sister. The Valkyrie wants to kick Azriel’s ass.
a/n this one is a tiny bit darker only because it involves SA so please don't read if that triggers you
Request
Azriel never had a problem talking with females throughout his lifetime. That changed the day Cassian brought you to the house of wind.
Cassian had rescued you from four males who were about to do unspeakable things to you. Fortunately, he was walking past and heard your pleas for help. After slaughtering the males that were about the harm you, Cassian flew you to the river house, where he got Madja to do a check-up on you just to be safe.
Once he got confirmation you were physically ok, Cassian suggested that you move to the house of wind with him, Nesta, and Azriel. Even though the males who were about to assault you were dead, he wanted to make sure you were not going to be assaulted again.
Luckily, he got approval from not only Rhysand but also from Nesta and Azriel. They saw how shaken up you were and didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to be on your own. Nesta took you under her wing and became very protective of you. She saw a lot of Elain in you and had the instinct to protect you.
As for Azriel, he found himself thinking about you constantly and always asking both Cassian and Nesta if you were doing ok but never actually had a conversation with you. He would send at least one of his shadows to watch over you at all times even though you never the house. Cassian would often tease that Azriel was afraid to talk to you because had a crush. That would result in Azriel punching Cassian and storming away.
To Cassian’s credit, he did suggest to Azriel that he should start a conversation with you about the book you were reading. Since moving in, you basically lived in the library with Nesta. You would constantly recommend books to each other and actually started a book club with the other Valkyrie and some of the priestesses. Cassian knew you would open up to Azriel if he talked to you about something you were passionate about.
Taking Cassian’s advice, Azriel made his way into the library, where he spotted you reading at a small table. Azriel bit back a smile as he watched the shadow he had sent to watch over you caress your cheek as you read out loud.
Not wanting to scare you, Azriel let out a cough to get your attention: “Mr. Shadowsinger, what brings you down here?”
“Please, call me Azriel,” Azriel replied. His heart started beating fast when you smiled at him, “I was just looking for something to read in bed. What are you reading?”
You began to explain to Azriel the book you were reading, and Azriel jokingly said: “I thought that book was for children?” The smile that was once on your face disappeared and was replaced with a frown. Azriel realized he messed up and tried to apologize: “Y/n, I’m sorry that came out wrong.”
You tried your best to put on a happy smile before replying: “It’s ok. You don’t need to apologize. It is a children’s book,” you stood up and held the book against your chest: “I-I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Mr.Shadowsinger.”
“Y/n, wait-” Azriel watched as you disappeared and flipped over a table out of frustration.
Azriel knew he was going to face the wrath of Cassian and Nesta, but nothing could have prepared him to face the wrath of all three valkyries and his brother at once the following day. “Are you kidding me, Azriel ! ! !” Nesta snapped at Azriel and caused the shadowsinger to wince.
“I meant it as a joke, but-” All three females covered their faces out of frustration while Cassian did everything in his power to not lunge at his brother.
Nesta let out an exaggerated groan at Azriel’s explanation: “That book is important to her. She didn’t have the best home life and used to read that book as a way to escape her situation,” Azriel felt like a complete asshole at Nesta’s explanation. He wished he could turn back time and stop himself from making that joke.
“Fix the mess you made or else,” Cassian pointed towards the three females who were ready to murder him: “I’m going to let them skin you alive,” Cassian warned before leaving with the Valkyrie to train.
Azriel was already planning on apologizing, but knowing that the Valkyrie would, in fact, murder him, he decided to stop by your room later that night.
Azriel lost his train of thought for a brief moment when you answered the door in a nightgown. He tried and failed to avoid checking you out, and he started to feel like a creep for his actions. “Mr. Shadowsinger. How can I help you?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“I wanted to apologize for the comment I made about the book you were reading the other day.” Azriel apologized: “I didn’t know how important that book was to you, and I made a horrible joke.”
Looking into his eyes, you could tell Azriel was being genuine: ”It’s ok. If anything, I overreacted to your comment. I know it’s just a book, but-”
“No buts.” Azriel cut you off: “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. That book is special to you, and I made a dumb comment. I just hope you’ll accept my apology, and we can start over.”
“Of course, I accept your apology, Azriel.” You sent him a shy smile.
Azriel was close to falling onto his knees at you using his actual name. Knowing what he was feeling towards you was more than just a crush he suddenly started picturing what his life would be like with you by his side. How he would protect you from anyone who would dare touch or even look at you in the wrong way.
Azriel was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize he was just staring at you until you waved your hands over his face. “Are you ok?” you asked in a concerned tone.
“Yes, sorry,” Azriel cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head: “I was just going to ask if you would like to get coffee with me tomorrow and talk about our favorite books. I promise I won’t make mean jokes about the books you love to read.”
Azriel knew it was a gamble making a joke about the very thing that got him in trouble in the first place, but to his delight, you started laughing. “I would love to, but” you poked his chest, “you have to buy me my coffee.”
“I was already planning on paying. I am a gentleman, after all,” Azriel agreed, sending you a crooked smile. You playfully rolled your eyes and said goodnight before closing your door and sleeping.
@sleepylunarwolf @paankhaleyaar
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Summary: After making a scene and storming out of Eddie's trailer, you're left to wonder if you even have a boyfriend anymore, since he hasn't spoken to you in three days.
a/n: congratulations. you bitches wore me down. you all know how much i HATE angst with no happy endings so enjoy me fixing it.
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
word count: 3.3k
It’d been days since the fight in Eddie’s trailer. Days.
You were mad as hell when you’d left, so mad you almost appeared calm. You’d angrily cried on the drive back home, hot tears leaking steadily past your lashes as you scowled and you were sure they left a trail of mascara behind.
You’d dodged your mother when you got home, unwilling to face the barrage of questions she’d send your way that would no doubt trigger a breakdown. The last thing you needed was anyone asking if you were okay.
Besides, you thought you’d be fine. Eddie would get the point, come to his senses and be at your front door a little past dinner to apologize for hurting your feelings.
You’d composed yourself to the best of your ability while you ate, forking the food on your plate down with the excuse of having not had lunch when your mother started questioning you and then hurried back upstairs to your room.
Your landline was plucked from its place on your nightstand drawer and set on your bed in front of you. When half an hour passed, you assumed Eddie was still wrestling with his pride. When half an hour turned into an hour and a half, you started wondering if maybe he was still cooling down from the argument. He’d call.
By 2 a.m., the tears were back and speeding effortlessly from the corners of your eyes, down the bridge of your nose to meet your pillowcase as you realized he wasn’t going to call.
He didn’t call the next day, either. Or the day after that.
The two of you weren’t in school anymore, so you couldn’t track him down in the halls but you didn’t want to go find him. You wanted him to come find you, you wanted him to chase after you when you left his trailer, you wanted him to call you and tell you he loved you and you wanted him to not bring girls who wanted him the way you did over to his trailer.
You wanted Eddie. But you wouldn’t go crawling back, your heart may have been wailing in agony but your pride was howling at you, wounded and bleeding.
Were you broken up? You hadn’t intended for your exit to be the end, but by day three, you were starting to get the feeling it was over.
And despite how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t rot in bed. You had responsibilities, a job. You’d called into the arcade the first two days but you couldn’t put it off forever, couldn’t avoid leaving your house because you feared running into Eddie.
Yes, you were desperate to see him, but under your specific conditions. What if you ran into him and he confirmed the two of you were over? What if he was with that girl you’d seen leaving the trailer? He said he’d given her a deal for flirting with him, had it progressed? Was he rebounding?
The more you thought about it, the more sad you got. Samantha Stone, your former lab partner and current co-worker had stepped in to awkwardly comfort you when you kept dipping into the back room to cry and eventually sent you home with the promise she could handle the riveting crowd of three plaguing the arcade.
You’d kicked off your shoes and thrown your bag onto the floor the moment you got into your room, but you hadn’t changed, just fell face first onto your bed as your tears mingled with your comforter.
And that’s how you found yourself thinking about how long it had been since that damn fight. Maybe you were overreacting. Sure, Eddie had been a little intimidating in high school, but he’d also had no trouble in the romance department. He’d told you he’d been cynical about it, since it never went beyond sex, but he’d also said that had been before you had looked twice at him.
Unfortunately for you, the stupid ass curse that comes with having a boyfriend struck you. Now that Eddie had a girlfriend, all of a sudden he was a wanted man, even more so than he had been in the past.
You’d seen girls overstep, had been waiting for him in the van during a deal while you watched one reach a hand out to caress his arm and it had taken everything in you to not storm out of the van to tear the offending appendage off and beat her silly with it.
Maybe you really were just blowing things out of proportion because of your jealousy. Maybe you owed Eddie the apology. Would he even accept your apology? It had been days, after all. Maybe he’d take you back if you groveled. Tears were a no brainer, you were pretty emotional and aware you were in a somewhat manic state, so they’d come the moment you caught sight of him again. Your feelings, your love for him, and this stupid mess would overwhelm you.
You glanced at your phone, still poised on your bed and taunting you without a single ring. Your mother would have mentioned it if he called. He hadn’t.
You wanted Eddie.
That singular sentence plagued you, wrapping around your heart over and over again, constricting like a boa until you felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were about to have a heart attack. You could hear the loud and insistent banging that was your heartbeat, beating in time with your much too fast breaths.
Eddie was the last thing you thought of before you shut down, body allowing exhaustion to overcome you to stop your impending panic attack.
You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, eyes prying open to your room shrouded in darkness. A lazy glance at the window confirmed night had fallen and you sagged further into your bedding, sighing when you remembered you’d fallen asleep in your work uniform which meant you couldn’t slip back under the veil of rest and peace until you’d gotten out of it.
You sat up, fingers gripping onto the hem of your shirt to lift it.
A flash of movement at the foot of your bed caught your attention just before you raised your shirt over your head and you nearly had a heart attack as you fell back, quickly reaching for your lamp.
The warm glow of it illuminated the room and revealed Eddie standing near the foot of your bed, hands up to show he meant no harm.
“Sorry,” he gave a brief huff of laughter, mouth pulled into a nervous smile, “didn’t mean to scare you. Your mom let me in.”
Your heart calmed instantly at the sight of him, but your anxiety made its presence known, sinking into your belly.
He’s here to break up with you, it whispered.
You pulled your shirt back down, smoothing it out to give you something to do. Suddenly, you were incapable of words, nonverbal as your mouth refused to part. Your heart had won the battle with your pride and was desperate to beg him to forgive you for overreacting, would say anything to get him to hold you but you were paralyzed.
Eddie cleared his throat, a hand reaching up to scratch his head before he sat down on the edge of your bed and you took him in.
The most apparent difference in his appearance was the dullness of his eyes and the bags under them. Eddie was usually so full of life, an eccentric being buzzing with a sort of energy at all times, even when he was pretending to be the cool, collected bad boy. Now, he looked tired. And he had a light dusting of scruff on his jaw and cheeks.
Eddie never had facial hair. Hated it. He’d tried it out once, he wasn’t fond of not being able to feel your kisses directly against his skin, and it made him itchy so it didn't last long.
He shaved everyday to make sure he could feel your lips on him and the reminder made tears pool at your waterline once more.
“Look, I─”
“I’m sorry!” You rushed out, cutting him off as emotion muddled your voice and made your throat thick with it. The tears followed, just as you’d predicted they would when confronted by Eddie, “I’m so sorry, you were right, I was overreacting! I was just jealous, you can bring whoever you want to your trailer, I know it’s just business. I was just stupid and jealous and upset, you were right to not call me, and I’m sorry!”
Eddie’s mouth parted, eyebrows rising in bewilderment.
Then he was kicking off his shoes and climbing onto your bed, softly hushing you as he pulled you into his arms and you sobbed against his shirt, relieved to finally have Eddie back.
You hadn’t thought he’d ever hold you again so you clung to him like a lifeline.
Eddie held you tight, hand rubbing comfortingly over your back as he pressed kiss after kiss to your head and nuzzled his face there, trying to make sense of what was happening.
After you’d left, he’d trashed his room. Well, more so than its usual state. He’d wanted you to come right back after you stormed out, was hoping you would—but like an idiot, Eddie just stared at the door as his mind replayed the entire conversation, emphasizing the moment he’d crossed the line. By the time he finally snapped out of his stupor and ran out after you, you were gone.
Eddie was frustrated with himself, so he took it out on his room. When that was done, he’d grabbed a beer from the fridge, a joint from his stash and got crossed on the couch out front as he thought about the fight.
He had no interest in anyone who wasn’t you. None. And for some reason, you didn’t understand just how much he loved you, how not a singular fucking person on this giant rock could compare to you. Not Cindy Crawford, not Pam Grier, not Irene Cara, not a single member of Metallica, no one.
You were Eddie’s favorite person. You were his person.
And he made you feel like shit. The longer he thought about it, the guiltier he felt. It was easy to write off your behavior as jealousy, but your jealousy hadn’t been unwarranted.
He couldn’t see the big deal about having her pick up weed from his place since she’d phoned to let him know she was already in the area, but when he imagined some random guy coming out of your home, you walking him out?
Eddie saw red. The thought alone knocked the air out of him and it was a feeling he was keen to not experience.
But you had. And instead of just owning up to his slip of the mind, he’d stuck to his guns and had promptly shot himself in the metaphorical foot, not before hurting you. You were upset, and you lashed out when you got like that. Eddie had realized a long time ago that you only made digs like that because you wanted him to tell you you were wrong without having to ask him.
Only, Eddie hadn’t told you that no, he didn’t give her a deal for being ‘pretty and flirty’ as you’d accused. She had been flirty—yes, he felt even more guilty when he thought about it—but he’d been blunt and brief, exchanging the bag of nugs for cash before he was sending her back the way she came. You’d just been on the other side of the door when he’d opened it for her to leave.
It looked fucking terrible. How the hell was he supposed to make this up to you??? He’d spent the remainder of the night lingering near the phone, picking it up and then putting it back on the receiver. Nothing he could think of was a worthy enough apology for you, and he assumed you didn’t even want to see him. Fuck, you’d been so upset.
He ended up passing out on the couch.
The next few days went the same, he tried to figure out what to say, how to to explain himself and dove for the phone anytime it rang. It was never you, but of course it was when Eddie was desperate to hear your voice on the other end of the line that all his usual customers had run out of weed and other things.
And she had called.
Eddie wasn’t stupid, she’d smoked with him and a group of friends at a party once, she hacked up her lungs and coughed herself into delirium after one pull; there was no way she’d finished what Eddie had supplied to her that quickly. It certainly didn’t help that she knew Eddie had you, and she still kept up the flirting. You were right, Eddie knew what she was trying to do and he was a shit boyfriend for not turning her down outright. Eddie had nipped that problem in the bud over the phone.
In his desperation, he’d done multiple drives by the arcade, too. You were never behind the counter, only that gothic chick that liked to curse people was.
He got anxious fast, hoping like hell that you hadn’t broken up with him. When it became too much for Eddie, who missed seeing your beautiful face, he caved in and drove to your house, despite the fact that you might not want to see him. When your mom let him in instead of throwing pots and pans at him like he’d imagined she would, Eddie figured you hadn’t told her about the fight which gave him hope.
Maybe you did still want him.
There was no light under your bedroom door and when he knocked you hadn’t answered but Eddie walked in anyways, heart clenching at the sight of you sprawled on your bed asleep.
God, how he’d missed you.
Eddie found himself blinking back tears as he stared down at you. It was selfish of him, but he really wanted to wake you up, touch you, hold you, kiss you.
And then he realized he was at your house uninvited, in your room, watching you while you slept. Could he get any fucking creepier? Jesus…
Eddie had been in the middle of pacing a circle in your carpet, trying to play out how this conversation would go when you stirred and he froze.
Then you sat up and he got a little excited when you started taking your shirt off, but Eddie was aware of how bad this could go if he didn’t announce his presence.
You hadn’t started yelling at him like he expected, no. What you did was worse. You were apologizing.
He’d been inconsiderate, he’d put himself in a situation that would look bad to literally anyone who saw him knowing he was in a relationship, had hurt your feelings—even more so because you’d apparently been waiting for him, wanting him this whole time and he’d just been holed up in the trailer, phone in hand but never dialing.
“Baby,” he mumbled against your head, leaning back and moving his hands to frame your face, thumbs wiping your tears away as he angled your head up at him so you could see the sincerity on his face, in his eyes, “you have nothing to be sorry for.”
You hiccuped and started, “But I─”
“Shh, no. Let me say this okay?” Eddie waited for you to nod and when you did, he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead and another to the tip of your nose.
“You didn't overreact or do anything wrong, sweetheart. You were right. I knew exactly how she felt, and while I promise you I had no intentions of letting anything happen, I still shouldn’t have had her over. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve been jealous, mad, and really hurt. She called, tried to come over again and I told her I’m in love with you and I’m not interested in her. If she needs to replenish her supply, she’ll have to get it from Rick from now on. And I’ve never given her a deal. The only person who gets free weed is you, pretty girl.”
You sniffled and his thumb stroked over your cheek once more. He added, “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wanted to, so badly, but I didn’t know what to say or if you even wanted me to. I've been dying to see you, drove past the arcade a ton of times just to see if I could get a glimpse of you—your coworker, the scary one, flipped me the bird whenever she saw me, by the way.”
That got a laugh out of you and Eddie grinned victoriously, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours, “I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” Your gaze dropped from his eyes, the brown in them now swirling with warmth, to his lips, “Can I kiss you?”
“Oh, baby. You don’t ever have to ask.” Eddie didn’t wait for you to make the first move, closing the small distance to press a deep, chaste kiss to your lips. Once you were returning his kiss, he got a little more insistent, you realized this was Eddie’s way of asking for reassurance and you were more than willing to give it to him, parting your lips so your tongues could meet again.
The two of you made out on your bed at a leisurely pace as you reaffirmed your love for each other. When things got heated, and you soon found yourself on your back with Eddie on top of you and between your legs, he pulled away from your mouth with a smack, and winced.
“I really want to have makeup sex, baby, but I’m about to pass out. I haven’t been sleeping well.” Rarely has Eddie slept without you, add in you being upset with him and he could barely sleep at all. The last thing he wanted to do was pass out while he was inside you and leave you unsatisfied.
You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss, “That's okay. We can fuck in the morning.”
Eddie let out the most pornographic moan at the mental image and you laughed again as you shushed him, “Eddie! My mom will hear you!”
Reluctantly he rolled off you to undress, yanking off his pants while you shimmied out of yours, pulled your shirt off and discarded your bra. When Eddie yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it towards the ground, you’d intercepted it and pulled it over your own head.
Eddie gave you a very appreciative onceover before he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will his hard-on away, “Down, boy.”
You snuggled up to his side, and he pulled you into his arms, throwing your blanket over the both of you and letting out a sigh of content as you nuzzled your face into his neck, “Fuck, I missed this. Missed you.”
“Missed you, too, Eds.”
“Next time you get mad at me, I’m sitting on the hood of your car so you can’t leave.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“Or maybe you can just kick my ass instead of leaving.”
“No, I like it too much.”
Eddie’s chest shook with quiet laughter and you smiled, eyes fluttering shut.
This time, when sleep finally overcame you, your heart wasn’t in pain or beating loudly in your ears. It was nestled against you, and snoring into your hair.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader angst#eddie munson blurb#stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic
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