#i was so fucking blind and such a horrible friend

[quitesins]

Deku’s Type!

Masterlist

Tags: 18+, Sfw-ish, short drabble, fem!reader, aged up! characters, teacher! Deku, kinda vulgar and fucky, im gonna tag misogyny, reader is implied to be “fucked in the head” whatever you want that to mean ^0^!

The boys gather round for drinks and discuss the type of women Deku seems to be fond of, much to his dismay…

“Sounds like Deku’s type,” Katsuki says, smirk in his voice.

Izuku frowns. “I do not have a type.”

Now that makes the table still for a second, not long enough for Izuku to predict the thoughts of his friends, but enough for the rest of the guys to come to the same conclusion.

Katsuki, Denki and Sero are the first to burst out in laughter. Katsuki’s cackle the loudest of them all.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Katsuki laughs so hard he doesn’t even care that Denki is half laid over him, “You don’t see that shit?”

“Come on…” Denki says, still slapping Katsuki’s thigh as he laughs. “you have such a type!”

Izuku frowns, sterner, deciding to ignore the immature three and turning to his other friends for support. Both Iida and Shouto look away, their expressions telling.

“I do not have a type,” Izuku reiterates, firmly.

Katsuki shakes his head, finally shoving Denki off him. “All those girls you’ve dated? Exact fuckin’ same.”

Even Tokoyami turns his head, eyes never leaving his drink but a twinkle of unfamiliar mirth evident within them.

“What does that even mean?!” Izuku exasperates, looking around for a single ally.

“It means,” Mineta chimes in, and although Izuku enjoys his company, he already knows he’s about to hear something deplorable, “you like them sick in the head!”

Shouto can’t hold in his sputter, finally contributing to the conversation— with a laugh. The rest of the table is hooting, a few groans at the wording but nothing at the sentiment. All while Izuku looks absolutely scandalised, clutching his chest, eyes wide open.

“That’s horrible!” Izuku cries, so stunned he can’t even trail off into one of his signature rambles in defence, “that’s- that’s. What?!”

“All the girls you’ve liked man…” Sero starts. “They’re not exactly little miss sunshines are they.” He stops, which Izuku almost takes reprieve in until he continues, “you seem to like them a little off putting.”

“Yeah so he can fucking fix them.” Katsuki snorts.

“It’s your saviour complex.” Denki adds, chin tilted up, trying to look profound.

Izuku is quick to interject, waving his hands around. “You’re the pro heroes.” The poor boy tries his best to convince. “We all have saviour complexes!”

“Not like you do, mon chéri,” Aoyama tuts, then winks before saying, “Hero of Japan.”

“Izuku, They do still call you an honorary pro.” Shouto is trying to be nice, Izuku thinks. “And I’m sure your students think the same.”

Izuku grimaces, he knows he’s always had a complex that encompassed so much more than just his dreams to be a hero, but he doesn’t need it sullied by… that.

“Don’t ruminate.” Katsuki presses a drink into Izuku’s hands. “You like women a little fucked up, so what.”

Katsuki’s words do nothing to comfort Izuku, instead it has Denki and Mineta laughing all over again while Kirishima attempts to calm them down. Iida scolds Katsuki a little, doing a half bow in apology to the passing waiter clearly peeved by all the noise. Deku pays no attention, beginning to spiral in his head.

It feels wrong to view you that way. To view the women he’s loved that way. But he’s not an idiot, maybe a little blind at times but now that the proof is there— oh god—

“Listen, Midoriya, I am sure there are many reasons you have loved the women you have.” Iida notices the growing dread upon Izuku’s face. “You also like to save people. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Tokoyami and Shouji nod in agreement, Ojiro giving his own sympathetic smile.

“Yeah bro.” Kirishima raises a fist in camaraderie, though it’s definitely out of pity. “It’s manly to want to care for others.”

“Think he more than cares for ‘em,” Katsuki slickly adds, in an artful voice that Izuku is more that familiar with, “the fucker get off on that shit.”

This time, it’s Shouto who scolds him, Katsuki’s implications clear enough for even him to catch on. They rest of the guys begin to bicker in the background, one half in defence of Izuku’s less than innocent tastes in women, the other intent on making fun of the golden boy for once.

Though the attention is finally off him, it does not help Izuku feel any better.

Because there’s a thought that lingers… it’s a sick thought, a terrible, horrible, awfully honest thought.

Shit, he does like them a bit fucked up.

My truth is i still don’t know how to punctuate dialogue… pleek don’t look and none of dat…

Anyways I kind of wanna elaborate on Deku’s hero complex coming out in other ways in the 8 years of studying and becoming a teacher, like someone has to deal with it…

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

god fucking damnit

[strwbrymlkshake]

I don't think I've ever been in a relationship this healthy before I don't know what to do 💀

[thatdemiboymess]

Turning up the music to max volume and laying facedown on the bed because the mental health has hit rock bottom like DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT, DROWN IT OUT--

Thoughts of self harm and maybe suicidal ideation in the vent in the tags. Sorry.

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about …

𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝖺𝗅𝗉𝗁𝖺𝖻𝖾𝗍!

pairing : deadpool x reader  warnings : groping (receiving from wade), yukio :3, mentions of reader being shorter than wade wc : 1.6k a/n : unedited, and i skipped out a few letters near the end😭

𝓐 = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

very very affectionate! all over you, 24/7, whether it be hugs or kisses. he’s super affectionate to pretty much everyone, whether it’s reciprocated or not, so with a partner, i think things would be 10 times worse (for the better) 💞

𝓑 = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

pff you definitely went from friends to lovers! your landlord had dropped by to tell you that you had a new neighbour opposite you. you were very excited, and before you could even go over and say hello, he was already on your doorstep, box of cookies in hand. he told you his friend yukio made them. you invited him in, and soon became best buds pretty quick! he’s an extremely supportive friend, and while he can’t be there for you all of the time (because of missions and saving your entire timeline and stuff), he tries as hard as he can to! he’s an instant pick-me-up, his humour’s extremely comforting.

𝓒 = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

absolute lovebug! he’s all over you, and prefers that when he's in your presence he has at least a hand somewhere on you. he’s always creeping up on you, only to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his chin on the top of your head. you can expect a hand to be creeping up your shirt as he does so😭

𝓓 = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

settling down isn’t really on his mind at the moment, and he doesn’t expect that it’s on yours. if you ever mentioned it however, he’d be happy to hear you out! you practically live together as it is, so he’s all for you officially moving in! he’s surprisingly a pretty good cook, peter seems to have taught him a few things over time! as for cleaning, he’s not terrible, but he really fucking hates it, so it’s usually blind al who takes up most of the cleaning responsibilities in their apartment.

𝓔 = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he’d probably be breaking up with you if you got hurt because of him, or if he fears he may be putting you in danger :( he’d just be gone when you woke up the next morning, with no warning or any way of reaching him afterward

𝓕 = fiancé(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

not a stranger to commitment, and not opposed to it in the slightest! the thought of marriage isn’t really on his mind, he’s satisfied with you as his girlfriend. it’s not like he doesn’t want to get married, but he can’t wrap his head around why. the only thing that would change is he’d be able to call you his wife (which he does anyways)😭 but if you wanted to get married he’d be happy to comply!! 

𝓖 = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

very very gentle physically! once he’s fully grasped the fact that your injuries do not heal within seconds, he treats you like you could break at any moment😭 emotionally… he’s working on it. sometimes his constant joking was at your expense, and occasionally hurt your feelings more than you’d like to admit :( but!! he’s learning to read the room, and he’s getting much better at it!

𝓗 = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

loooves hugs so much. you’re lucky you feel the same way because it would be horrible living with him if you didn’t😭he’s hugging you as much as he possibly can!! he thinks he has some kinda curse so he tells you he can only get any sleep if you’re nestled into his chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around your frame. he will always greet you with a hug before anything else!! he gives really good hugs too :3

𝓘 = i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

he’s saying he loves you from your first day together! you’re walking back to your apartments after a cute day out and he casually blurts, ‘bye, love you!’ he looks embarrassed after, but it soon becomes an inside joke, and something he says to you regularly throughout your friendship! it was only until he whispered into your ear one lazy morning, ‘i’m in love with you’ did you realise the gravity of what he felt for you💞

𝓙 = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

doesn’t get jealous quick, but when he does it’s bad for whoever else is involved😭they are definitely being threatened by him!! his instincts are usually pretty good when it comes to stuff like that but yours are totally not. you can’t tell the difference to save your life between flirting and a good natured conversation, so his protectiveness can come in handy for you sometimes.

𝓚 = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

he kisses anywhere and everywhere on you :3 very often too! hmm i think he really likes it when you kiss him all over his face, although he probably won’t admit it.

𝓛 = little ones (how are they around children?)

very good around kids! he’s not usually the most patient man, but around kids it’s a whole other story!

𝓜 = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

mornings are spent waking up late because you were both up well into the early hours of the morning doing whatever you were doing. mornings are spent groggily showering together as he yaps on and on about god knows what. mornings are spent eating yesterday’s leftovers for breakfast as you giggle over whatever absurd story he’s telling you💞

𝓝 = night (how are nights spent with them?)

nights are spent cuddled up on the sofa mumbling incoherent sentences into his chest as you’re straddling him, while he’s bingeing his favourite show. you wanna sleep so bad, and he’s not stopping you, but you would much rather fall asleep nestled into him than alone in bed! plus, you love when he moves you around while you sleep :3

𝓞 = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he’s very open right from the get go! but it’s harder to teach him to take things seriously :( he jokes about a lot of the things that he goes through, you presume as a coping method, but it’s really not healthy. he’s open to changing though, and slowly does after spending more time with you!!

𝓟 = patience (how easily angered are they?)

his patience is typically very short with most people (the exception being you, kids, and yukio :3) and it doesn’t look like that’s gonna be changing anytime soon😭

𝓠 = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he tries so very hard but m’afraid he’s just not the best at it😭but that’s okay!! he has other strong suits! he remembers the very important things, but he could use some work remembering the little things too :) 

𝓡 = remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

hmm i don’t think he really has a standout moment but if he had to pick one, he’d probably say when you said you loved him for the first time :3

𝓢 = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

sooo protective! he feels that you’re so fragile compared to him anyways, so he’d do his absolute best to protect you in every aspect he can! hmm as for you protecting him.. i think he’d like if you ever made an outward show of affection toward him when someone else was hitting on him in his suit. he finds it super hot :3

𝓣 = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he tries very very hard! sometimes the result of whatever he’s doing doesn’t exactly reflect that, that’s okay!! it’s the thought that counts! 

𝓤 = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

his self-deprecating jokes :(

𝓥 = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

unfortunately he’s really quite insecure about them, it breaks your heart to see that he can’t see himself the way you see him :(

𝓦 = whole (would they feel whole without you?)

no no no not at all! misses you so much when you’re away, even if it’s just for a short while, even when it’s just a day or two, your phone is always blowing up with his messages, he’s constantly checking on you, asking if you’re okay, when you’ll be free to call! it’s so comforting to know that there’s someone out there who cares for you as much as wade does.

𝓩 = zzz (what is a sleep habits of theirs?)

he is a very very active sleeper!! you can expect to be kicked in the night😭and probably hear him whispering something random as he’s rolling over, taking you with him. his dreams are so insane, you wouldn’t believe him if he wasn’t basically acting them out as he slept😭

[the-hipster-nugget]

I think we need to talk about Scott’s third life death scene more often, specifically about the scene directly afterward with Martyn and Ren.

It’s so fucked up that Martyn chases after Scott, not hurting or actually touching him but follows him so his king can get a chance to kill him, but Martyn doesn’t touch Scott. Instead he yells after him these half baked apologies and explanations, trying to tell him “I didn’t want Jimmy to die!” That is actually insane.

As Martyn is chasing that boy he connected with at the start, the one he entered the nether with; they went through this worlds actual hell together. Now Martyn is tasked to take after Scott to not let him escape, someone he used to be close to, he chases with death in mind because his king commands it.

And Scott finally stops to face martyn, as the pathetic hand tries to tell him “we didn’t mean to kill your husband” is SO fucked up. Out of everything Martyn said, before having to watch his king murder him, he tells Scott that it was never his intention to harm Jimmy.

Upon Scott’s death, Martyn does not cheer or rejoice, he just lets out this pathetic noise of defeat after Ren murdered Scott for good. Martyn stands there feeling null and empty, while his king goes into hysterics.

Ren also, upon killing Scott, is immediately rushed with guilt and horror at himself. Starts sobbing, “how many more do I have to kill to this violence comes to an end?”

“It’s dripping into my eyes… I can’t see, I’ve been blinded by violence my hand.”

Ren sacrificed himself using Martyns hand, allowed his head to be chopped off so that he could become a red name- but even after all that, he cannot kill without guilt. Other red names like Skizz and Joel get this bloodlust and hunt like a predator. While Ren, the wolf king, kills and then he cries. He sobs and begs for Martyn to hold him. He’s a red name supposed to be thirsting for blood but it isn’t giving him that rush it should. He had Martyn take his head, and all for what? What was this all for?

He’s a red name, and the king of a red kingdom, with a red shield. He brought red winter in his wake, but he stays awake at night shivering in fear about the death of others. In his heart, Ren is too good hearted to kill without remorse. Despite it being his job, and something he sought out to do on purpose; he feels horribly guilty.

The blood dripping into his eyes blinding him is insane symbolism. Being a red name gives him this urge to kill, and it blinds the players. But doesn’t give Ren a rush of ecstasy or excitement, it scares him. Ren feels so blood thirsty that he gets dizzy, and it makes him want to cry. It makes him scared of himself, and he breaks down as yet another person died at his hand.

He begs Martyn to hold him, and all he can think about is before he had to murder another person. He never wanted to become this red king, never wanted his crown to be stained in blood. He wanted to hold Martyns hand, and enchant with him. That’s all he wanted, was a life of peace with his dear friend. Martyn was his friend, not his hand.

Ren asked for this, he prayed for red winter, but now that it arrived, he is so so cold. Ren just wanted to feel the warmth of spring.

Neither of them wanted to kill Scott. Neither of them felt satisfied watching Scott lose his final life, but they murdered him together anyway. They killed him, and then they cried about it. They hold each other in the dead of winter.

“How many more people do we have to kill before all this violence comes to an end?”

The red king just wishes red winter would finally end. He’s tired of his bloody crown weighing down his head, his weak scarred neck struggles to hold. Martyn holds his king in attempt to comfort him, but all he thinks about is how eventually, they will have to die too. Maybe if they’re lucky, they’ll die together.

[erosiism]

A CASE OF REGRETS | YANDERE DUKE X M!READER.

prompt: you die during a rebellion, and he turns back time for you in desperation | reader is childhood friends with claude (OC), both are planning a rebellion to usurp the throne.

character(s): duke, you

warnings(s): nil

note(s): male reader, second person, past tense, not beta read, excerpt from my fic on wattpad, to make amends

FIND MORE MOMENTS OF CLAUDE AND THE READER HERE.

"Y/n!"

Blood spurted out.

"Y/n!"

Your vision blurred.

"Oh gods, are you okay? Are you—"

Your ribs hurt: were they broken? Bloodied? You could certainly taste the horrible taste of iron present in your tongue. It was clear to you that somehow you were dying. That something had turned against you. That you were...

"Please, please, please—"

Through your muddled vision you could make out a figure. A familiar silhouette running towards you, legs stumbling in desperation, breaths ragged.

It was nice to know that when you died, someone would grieve for you. That someone would cry for you.

There was only one person in the world who cared so much for you.

"Claude," you murmured. There was a smile on your face. "There's no need to cry..."

"Y/n, please—no—"

"Save it." You sighed, "there's no way I'm going to be surviving this."

It was true. Blood jetted out of your wound in spurts, staining your tailored uniform with a bright, crimson hue. You had loved that color mainly because Claude had ruby eyes, but now it just seemed gruesome, horrid. Pain had simmered down into a steady brew, and you wondered if your pain tolerance had simply grown stronger, or it was a telling sign of your fading consciousness.

"You were such a brat last time." You murmured. "You used to throw tantrums and everything...for a while, I thought you despised me. Even when we became adults, you were still heartless, cold...so why do you weep for me? Why do you grieve my death?"

I was a fool last time, Claude thought silently. I was a fool. I was a fool not to have shown my affections last time.

Because the truth was plain and simple, written in ink, written in the stars: Claude adored you. Was it not you who had held his hand in the gardens for strolls? Was it not you who accompanied him throughout, was it not you who could make him crack a smile, make him laugh? It had been all you. Every single joyous moment he had was caused by you. When he had finally received the title of the Duke. When he had finally defeated his family and his foes.

But Claude had been so wrapped up in his own troubles he had failed to notice your problems. Your dastardly family. Your...

He had neglected your wellbeing—he hadn't seen your deteriorating state, your weakening smile—he hadn't see any of that. He had been self obsessed, too engrossed in his own matters that he hadn't even—

Claude had taken too long to warm up to you. He could have been sweeter earlier. Made your life easier, no matter what it was. Claude had taken a while to truly open his heart to you: he had been rude, ungracious, curt. And you had been patient. Endlessly patient with him.

"We can save you," Claude said desperately, "we can."

You laughed. A tinkling, magical sound—but at that moment, it was so damned. So fucking painful to hear the cracks inside, the strain hiding inside the tone.

He knew it would be the last time he would ever heard it.

"You are the Emperor. You finally reclaimed your right to the throne. You finally..."

"Y/n," he whispered.

You shook your head.

"You achieved everything you sought for."

Perhaps he did. But the thing he truly wanted had been in front of him this whole time and he had been blind. Utterly blind.

And he would never forgive himself for that.

The tears slipped. His voice felt suffocated; choking.

"Don't cry," you touched his cheek gently and that pulled Claude temporarily out of his panic—"don't cry, alright? It was inevitable, Your Grace. Don't cry. The future Emperor doesn't cry."

Your Grace. Even then, you hadn't referred to him by his name. If he had another chance—just one singular chance—

He would allow you to call him by his name.

You were his everything.

You're my heart, Y/n.

If you die, then that would make me heartless.

There was so much blood, Claude realized. Coating his palms, running down your back. So much of its thick texture, its color, all drenched. Every single bit drenched—

Why was there so much blood? It wasn't his. He  wasn't unhurt, really. He wasn't that well off, but not to your extent. You sounded so tired when you spoke, so faint. So weak. You could have disappeared any second. Claude held you in your arms softly, gently—you could disappear any moment, your breaths wavering and quivering.

No, no, no.

I love you, Claude thought deliriously. I love you. I love you. I love you so much—

The voice grew and became stronger; louder even as you grew cold. Claude rocked you even when your hands fell, holding one to his own cheek. Your hands still had the faintest bit of warmth. He clung onto it desperately; motionless with the tears dried up with his throat feeling like sandpaper.

You can't leave me, he'd thought deliriously, hugging you close and rocking you again and again and again, you can't leave me.

Y/n L/n, I love you too much to let you go.

.

.

Claude had failed to save you. In front of him, your beauty was still visible in his eyes; your (h/c) hair, your (e/c) eyes—because of his arrogance, his incompetence, you had unfairly died. He had not noticed the blooming feelings in his stomach until you had been cold in his arms, and his tears had splattered on your cheek.

The universe has been cruel to you.

He had stood by your side and had watched you suffer and suffer and suffer; and for what? Only for the gods to turn their back on you? What was the point, really? Claude had been with you this whole time. Had seen the sacrifices you poured in, had seen—

He should have been the one that died, Claude despaired. Not you. Never you.

That night he couldn't sleep. The place was too empty without you. He had been crowned Emperor. But there was no you to accompany him by his side.

There was...absolutely no point.

Why was he even alive at this rate? Claude wondered. Everything would go back to life before you. Tedious. Long. Meaningless.

"Your Majesty, the Empire—"

"—do whatever you want." Claude rasped out. "Just...just..."

Please. If the Gods are listening. Please, please—

Turn back time. For me, for Y/n.

For...

[ The Gods have heard your prayers ]

.

.

Turning back time was unheard of. Something in the legends. Something Claude didn't believe in. Yet when he woke up—there had been disappointment in him, he had assumed that this was heaven yet you were nowhere in sight—there was the familiar surroundings of a room.

Not the Emperor's bedroom.

The bedroom from the manor he once lived when he was the illegitimate son of the Duke.

I must be dreaming, Claude thought. There was a flicker of hope he didn't dare to believe in. I must be dreaming of the happier times and the million what ifs.

Pain was tugging at his heart. It was painful. Everything was painful...

"—don't bother him. He just recovered from a sickness."

What?

What?

Delusional. Hallucinating. Delirious. To hear your sweet, sweet voice in such a dream—perhaps this was heaven after all. Claude didn't ever want to wake up. He didn't.

Because you were there. In front of him.

He sucked in a breath.

As sweet, as polite as he remembered. Every inch of his face had been committed to his memory. Every contour, every line. He had mapped you out in his head and had aligned you with the thousands of dazzling stars in the universe because you were the reason he bothered to continue living. Because you had become his reason for living.

You stood, in regal attire, with your posture as graceful as he had remembered. The sunlight streamed in through the paneled windows, caressing your features and alighting upon your lashes. He swallowed, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Ah, you are awake, Your Grace." You smiled at him.

"Y/n L/n," he said finally. "Y/n L/n." It's been so long since he could say this name to someone who would hear and respond to it. So many times he called your name out of your desperation in vain: hoping for some sort of hallucination to pop up, for some sort of inkling that your voice would carry over to his ears.

And you smiled.

Smiled.

Smiled.

Smiled—

Claude reached out to you and buried his face into your clothes.

You gave a startled smile.

.

.

The Duke had done a 180 complete turn.

"Y/n," he spoke with uncharacteristic fondness that you just didn't understand, "you are..."

Tears. There were tears on his cheek. Had you done anything to offend him? You thought not.

"Your Grace..." you reached out to brush his forehead with your fingers, "are you alright? You don't seem to have a fever."

Claude stared at you with wide eyes.

"Oh," You heard him say, and then, "you are as beautiful as I remembered."

What?

"Your Grace, are you really sure you are fine—"

Claude dashed forward, not even registering your words. He crushed you in his arms, a hand in your hair, head buried in his neck. He missed this. This warmth and this scent. Home, home. It's the smell of home. It's the smell of you. It's you. It's you. It's you. 

It worked, he thought. It worked. It fucking worked. I traveled back in time. 

"... Well then," you gave a small chuckle, confused upon what was happening, "it's a relief to see you have awoken—why are you crying?"

"You're here," Claude breathed, his first tangible words since his return. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here, Your Grace." You looked at him with confusion etched all over your features, frowning. "What's wrong? You..."

The Duke was looking at you like you were the only one that mattered in the world. And that—

Wow. What kind of coma did he have, to be behaving so peculiarly?

You wiped his tears, sighing and fussing.

"You know what—never mind. Tell me later—why are you still crying, Your Grace?"

Claude held onto you tighter.

Maybe he had bad dreams in his coma, you thought. He was holding on to you like you were a lifeline. Like you would disappear any second, any minute.

As though he would never let go of you again.

You patted the Duke's head gently, slowly, fingers running through his hair. "Don't cry. The future Emperor doesn't cry."

Those words. It was so hauntingly painful to him.

Claude didn't want to remember anymore. He didn't  need to remember. He had succeeded. The Gods had listened to him. You were alive and breathing, in front of him. You were—

Alive.

reblog/like the post! comments are appreciated even if you read this before :)

[miley1442111]

(part 4) wrong choice, wrong move-a.donaldson

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a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: when you find out about his betrayal and how your relationship truly ends. (dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, allusions to an eating disorder, depression, fainting, cheating, etc. +

PART 4 of 12

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Art was a shell of his former self. His eyes were constantly blood-shot and sunken, he was losing weight, his mindset was fucked, the works. Yet, you seemed perfectly fine. Your tennis had never been better, your grades were excellent, and you were focusing on yourself. Well, you were trying to, it was pretty difficult when Art Donaldson was constantly over your shoulder, wondering when he could apologise and make things right. You two had promised that you’d go no-contact for a few weeks, giving time to allow the fresh cuts to heal over and then you’d be there for each other after. That ‘no-contact’ lasted a day. Then Art was at your door sobbing his eyes out, and you had to let him in. 

“I`’m so sorry to show up like this,” he sighed, tears rolling down his cheeks as he rested his head on your chest, his arms holding you close to him as you played with his hair. 

“It’s alright Art,” you promised him. You missed him just as much as he missed you but you were hurt. You wanted a change in behaviour, not just some pretty tears and kind words. “Seriously, we promised we’d be there for each other.”

Art let out a choked sob into your chest and you held him tighter. “It's ok, I’m always going to be here for you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he cried into your chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, trying to calm him down. “Art you can’t keep doing this to yourself, you have to move on,” you sighed. “I’m not that special.”

His eyes met yours in a disapproving glare as he stood up, pacing your dorm. “You’re so special. You’re so incredibly interesting and smart and driven and I fucking love you! I fucking love you so much that I show up at your dorm room every fucking day looking like a fucking loser and making you comfort me because I fucked up! You’re off doing your own thing, being amazing and I barely do anything anymore! I feel like I can’t breathe when you’re not around, like I can’t think when you’re not there. I need you Y/n. So yes, you’re pretty fucking special to me!” 

The room was silent. 

“Art, just calm down love,” you sighed, trying to coax him to calm down. 

“I’m not calming down. I want you, I want you more than anything-”

“Art that’s not fair,” you snapped. You were angry now. It’s exhausting watching someone be this blind to their own faults. “Art, we broke up because you constantly choose Tashi over me. That’s on you! You need to move on!”

“Have you?!” He shouted back. 

“I can’t when you’re clinging to me like a fucking baby!” You shouted. “Go to your friends, not your ex-girlfriend Art! We broke up and maybe yeah, it was your fucking fault but I’ve been really nice trying to not hurt you more because I love you!-”

“Then why are we broken up!?” His voice cracked.

“Because I’m sick of being your second choice!” You screamed. 

Art was quiet. He grabbed his jacket from the bed and left your dorm, leaving you to fall apart on your own. 

Since Art had felt, your world had grown quieter and quieter, you became more distant to those around you, you were unhappy, you ate less, you trained more, probably too much. 

But what else were you supposed to do? 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You showed up to the Challenger ready to win, despite the clear exhaustion you showed with your sunken and dark eyes, horrible posture, and constant yawning. 

Art was shocked. He hadn’t seen you in weeks. You were significantly slimmer, you looked awful to be honest, and he knew it was his fault. 

You served first, Tashi against you. The serve was good, not your best, but you two were playing real tennis. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ball hit the court and the game was over, you’d won, once again. Art and Patrick cheered discreetly from the stands as Tashi smashed her racket in anger. You didn’t even celebrate, just running to the bathroom and into a stall, sitting on the closed seat and passing out. 

You were severely damaging yourself. Your entire team knew you were not safe to be playing, but they knew you were at your prime to go pro, so they ignored it. Everyday was like an uphill battle, one that you were losing. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Art!” Tashi shouted as Art rambled about how ill you looked. “I don’t fucking care about her form, or how she looked! If she’s ill, how come she beat me?!” 

Art stayed silent. 

“I cannot believe I fucked you at that party,”  Tashi sighed, her head in her hands. You gasped and hid behind the door, stopping your hitting partner from walking into the warm-up court. 

Art and Tashi had fucked the night of the party. The party that you and Art were late to because he fucked you before it. 

He’d cheated on you. 

What?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walked into the court, head high in spite of the dizzy feeling in your head.

“Good game, sorry I had to run off earlier, I felt sick,”you explained to Tashi, holding your hand out for her to shake.

"Good game," she grumbled. You caught a glimpse of the horror on Art's face. You'd heard. He was never getting you back, not now, not ever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

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[3d-wifey]

I've read that Johnny NSFW alphabet like 30 times, it was so gooddddd, there's been no good Johnny Cage smut or writing in general honestly. Your Johnny just feels so in character and you're feeding me crumbs, I need moreeee 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (that sneak peek made me levitate)

Show 'em Who I Belong To

Pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader Synopsis: Johnny has seriously pissed you off this time, like, royally. The "begging on his knees" kind of pissed off. But luckily, he knows just the thing to do to prove he’s sorry. Word Count: 2.58k Playlist: Here's a Johnny Cage playlist to read his smut or just get inspo from, I made it myself TW: Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, dom!reader, sub!johnny cage, switch!Reader, switch!johnny cage, dom!johnny cage, sub!Reader, Forgiveness, Making Up, Apology Sex, Vaginal Penetration, Recording, Sex Tapes, Exhibitionism, Begging, Hand Jobs, Grinding, Crying During Sex, johnny cage loves you, johnny cage is just really really dumb, celebrity!reader, No Spoilers, Making Out, "straight" couple, johnny's slutty little slacks, Johnny cage is a little shit, Pussy drunk, cock drunk, Praise Kink, simp johnny cage, no other canon characters show up in this, Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut A/N: Since the poll I put on Tumblr voted for switch!Johnny, that's what I'm doing! This chapter will mostly be sub!johnny and dom!reader with a switch at the end. It's a bit of a mixed pov, but it's mainly from the reader's pov. Nothing but Dom!Johnny in the next chapter and sorry if the quality was lacking, I've slept a total of 10 hours in a span of 72 hours. CHECK OUT THAT JOHNNY NSFW ALPHABET I WROTE, IT'S CONSIDERED CANON TO THIS! Part 2 (tbm) Ao3

Your acrylics tap a beat onto the arm of the plush white couch as you read the tweet on your phone.

" Johnny Cage spotted cozying up on set with Co-Star. Has the star finally met his match? " Your nails stop and you glance at where Johnny kneels fidgeting on the floor in front of you before looking back to the screen.

He spreads his hands. "Okay, I know this looks bad." His voice floats in the otherwise quiet mansion. "But will you please stop ignoring me?"

You look down your nose at him. "Is this enough attention for you?" You sneer and he grimaces.

"My PR team cooked this up a while ago and they've been hounding me about it for ages. It was so unimportant to me that it sorta...slipped my mind." He shrugs and your glare hardens him. " C'mon , babe, it's just a little publicity stunt our agents had us do for the movie. It doesn't mean anything." He laughs and his nonchalance about the situation is pissing you off more than you already are.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" You fume and his brows furrow. "This isn't funny, Jonathan."

" Oof, " he winces, "government name."

You're both celebrities, you know what you signed up for when you agreed to date him after years and years of his begging and truly horrible pickup lines.

You're not mad about the situation itself, not really. You've gotten into drama before loads of times to drum up hype around a new project, but nothing like this. At least, not while you were dating Johnny. 

You're mad that you had to find out about it from the trending page on Twitter along with a slew of concerned messages from your friends, family, and manager.

You scroll down and read messages concerned fans have posted, worried that you and Johnny have broken up or, worse, that he cheated on you. But you know that he knows that you know he wouldn’t dare.

"Look at this shit." You shove your phone in his face. The screen reflects off the sunglasses that sit low on the bridge of his nose and he squints as the brightness nearly blinds him. "'I hope this isn't how she finds out.' 'I'd be so embarrassed if I was her.' 'I knew Johnny wouldn't stay faithful for long.'"

He looks from you to the screen and then back to you. "...You're mad."

You stare down at him.

"You are un- fucking -believable.” You move to stand up, but he grabs ahold of your hips.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry ! I didn't mean to upset you. Next time, I'll give you a heads up— I mean I'll run it by you.” Johnny corrects, pulling you closer when you try to pull away again. "What can I do to make it up to you, huh?" The muscles in his biceps flex against you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You try to stay firm, but it's pretty hard when he's pressing reverent kisses to your stomach.

You shiver from the coldness of his rings as he runs a big hand up your calf, traveling up your outer thigh to hook the hem of your dress at your hip before repeating the process up your other leg.

You want to stay mad—you are mad. This is incredibly careless and he didn't consider your feelings at all and...and you don't want him to think he can get out of trouble by kissing up to you. But, begrudgingly, you card your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"I'm still really upset about this, Johnny." You frown.

"I know, sweetheart. And I really am sorry. But, hey! I know something that'll make us both feel better." He grins up at you and you let him lead you back to the couch with a huff, dropping down once the back of your calves brush the white upholstery. 

“I’m sure you do.” You roll your eyes, spreading your legs to make room for him without thinking. “How would you —ahh !” You yelp at the sudden pinprick of pain on the skin of your inner thigh and it morphs into a moan when the pinch is quickly followed by a warm heat. You look down in time to see the pink of Johnny’s tongue as he licks over the tender spot—tender because he bit you like a damn dog!

“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I couldn’t really hear you over all those cute little noises.” You can feel the shit-eating grin against your skin as he talks. “You’re so sensitive. Definitely not a complaint—it does amazing things to my ego.” He laughs, hooking his hands under the back of your knees and pushing your legs up until the heels of your feet are balancing precariously on the edge of the seat.

He grips your hips, pulling you further down the couch and closer to his face. He moves your legs so your feet rest on his shoulders, the white polish of your toenails reflecting the light.

He leans in and you hold your breath in anticipation. You don’t want him to think he can just distract you and you’ll forget about being mad at him but—he leans in close to where the skirt of your sundress rucks up around your stomach, warm breath making you clench around nothing with each pant—but you like getting ate out almost as much as Johnny likes to do it.

You sigh as the warm, wet heat of his tongue drags across the damp seat of your panties. 

" Johnny. " You whine in frustration, fingers tightening in his sandy hair, as he pulls away as quickly as he came.

"Hold on, sweetheart. I think you're gonna like this." He grins, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. You pause as he unlocks it and presents it to you, camera on and recording you.

"What the hell are you doing?" You try to push as much disapproval into your voice as you can as you flip it from the front-facing camera to the rear one, but that’s an almost impossible task since he’s rubbing his nose up and down the crease of where your thigh meets your pussy. You end up sounding far more breathy than intended.

"What?” He grins into the camera. “You can watch this whenever you need a reminder of who I belong to." He says and if you weren't wet before, you definitely are now.

For as long as you’ve known him, Johnny has never been one to half-ass anything . It’s whole ass or nothing with him putting 110% into everything he’s faced with. However, when you first started dating, you hadn’t thought that would hold up when he had his head between your legs—yet another thing Johnny went out of his way to prove you wrong about.

The camera captures it the moment he pushes your panties to the side; he’s in his element.

There’s no preamble, no warning. Johnny dives in giving you no time to prepare for the shock of pleasure. You jerk away, but he holds onto your hips, hands becoming heavy weights you can’t lift. 

“You always taste so good for me, it’s insane.” He groans as your thighs try to squeeze his head, but he keeps them open easily. You sigh shakily at the casual show of strength. “I’d stay down here forever if you’d let me.” You bite your lip to muffle your soft moans, reminding yourself to steady the phone every few seconds, but forgetting to do so almost as soon as you do. But you can’t be blamed when Johnny gives head like he’s training for the Olympics; trying to break his previous record each attempt. You’ve been eaten out by people other than Johnny—of course, you have. It’s a requirement—but none of your past lovers come anywhere close to this. Johnny blows them out of the water every time.

That would be fine if you didn’t factor in his ego. Which would also be fine…any other day. But today, after the shit he pulled, you aren’t in the mood. This is supposed to be his way of apologizing, after all. So before he can get any ideas, you blink past the haze he’s put you in and grab the back of his neck. His back stiffens. He glances up at you and the shift is so swift that you doubt the camera even picked it up. His shoulders relax, almost limp against you, wide eyes going lidded as his grip on you softens.

“I know you can be louder than that, Johnny. I, hah , wanna hear how sorry you are. You are sorry, right?” You narrow your eyes.

His words are muffled since he refuses to take his mouth off of you, but you’re able to make out ‘yes’ and ‘princess’ which is good enough for you. Through the camera, you manage to get his pleading eyes and his hand unabashedly palming his bulge in the same frame and you smile around a moan.

"Are you hard, Johnny?" He doesn't hesitate to nod enthusiastically, and you feel yourself throb in his mouth. You're sure if your feet were on the ground he'd be grinding against your leg shamelessly. His body knows this too since his hips keep making aborted little thrusts, itching for relief from his tight gray slacks. "Heh, of course, you are. You can't help yourself, c–can you? Go on, then.”

He pauses, assessing you for a second to see if you’ll follow it up with anything else. You’re being surprisingly benevolent. He always has to work to earn your approval when you get like this, any pleasure he gets is dictated by you—not that he’s complaining—and that’s on the days when he hasn’t pissed you off. He honestly didn’t think he’d be cumming tonight, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He buries his tongue in you, licking from your pulsing hole to your throbbing clit as his hands work to unbuckle his belt and pull his dick out. He groans in relief once he’s free, squeezing the base of his dick so he doesn’t cum too quickly. You’re certainly not helping, shivering against him like a house in a storm and he moans in synch with you when you yank on his hair.

He freezes at the press of sharp nails at the nape of his neck. He shivers at the slight pinch of pain before leaning into it and you reward him with smoothing down the hair there. He stops the movement of his hands, but not his mouth.

“If you’re touching yourself, you’ll do it slowly or not at all. You wanna make it up to me, don’t you? Yeah ?” You hiss as he nods against you, mouth a tight suction on your clit. “Then you don’t cum until I do.” Normally he’s more bratty than this, making you fuck the submission out of him, but he must really be sorry because he does just as you say. He slows down as you instruct, his sharp brows furrowing as one of his hands grip the fat of your thigh. His other hand jerks him off haltingly like he actively has to remind himself to obey you. 

“You’re being so good for me, baby.” You gush, squirming in his hold. “ Mmh, s’fucking good.” You have to adjust your grip on his phone when he grunts at your praise, uncertain if you should jerk away or towards the vibrations. You run your nails over his scalp before yanking on his blond hair and he moans like a pornstar, hips thrusting into his hand. To the untrained eye—or ear—it seems like he’s playing it up for the camera, performing, but he’s always this loud. Especially when he’s got your pussy in his mouth.

It's almost embarrassing, the wet sounds of Johnny sloppily eating you out. Your moans mix with his and bounce around the mansion's walls with a filthy echo the longer this goes on. 

He stiffens his tongue and you know what he wants. You move your hand to the back of his head, gripping the soft strands to pull him forward. You thrust your hips with helpless, heady moans as you fuck his face. His heavy gaze burns through the camera to stare up at you with his tongue out. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk and he winks. You throw your head back, eyes closed with an obscene moan and he moves forward to press his nose against your clit, tongue flat as you move his head side to side.

“Johnny , mmh, ‘m gonna, f– fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You cry and he moans into you in response. You glance down to see his foggy glasses riding low on his nose and he stares right back, brown eyes half open but full of lust. The apples of his flushed cheeks become accentuated, sharpening with his grin. The barest hint of teeth brush your clit before pressing against it and you jerk back with the strength of your orgasm. Your mouth falls open with a repeated whine of his name, legs shaking as you hold his head still.

“Damn.” He curses, pulling away when your muscles untense. He doesn't bother wiping his mouth, wearing your slick like a trophy as he smiles into the camera. “Should’ve got that on camera. It was a money shot.” You scoff, smiling despite yourself. You pull his glasses off and sit them on your head before you press stop on the camera and toss the phone on the couch beside you, pulling him to you by the open collar of his button-up. You kiss him deep, tasting yourself on his tongue with a groan. His hands go to your hips and you wrap your legs around his waist, licking into his mouth. 

“You played dirty.” You slide your hand down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you go. You grab his dick, still hard and leaking against his stomach. He laughs before whimpering into your mouth at your touch, rutting up into it. You swipe a thumb across his tip where precum drips down the underside of the head. "You're so wet, baby. This all for me?" You pull away to lick yourself off him, tongue dragging across the skin of his chin as you twist your wrist with every upward stroke. 

"Are you joking? O–of course. Can, shit , can you blame me?” He puffs into your neck, hot air warming your neck as you alternate between licking and kissing his jaw. His fingers spasm around your hips, and your hands fly to his shoulders when he pulls you forward until your ass is barely on the edge of the couch. Now he’s in the perfect position to—

You gasp as he ruts against you, still sensitive as his dick slides between your pussy lips. There’s no friction with how wet you both are and with every upwards thrust he bumps your twitching clit. 

“Wait, I’m— mmnh —Johnny, I’m sensitive.” 

“Ah, ah, sweetheart. You said I can cum when you do,” you jump when he nips at your neck, strong arms wrapping around your back holding you tight to him. “Besides, I’m not done apologizing.” You rock against him despite your complaining. The overwhelming feeling only increases when he bends over you to reach something, and it’s enough to distract you from the sound a phone makes when you press record.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Chapter 1: From Tradegy to Fantasy - Awakening in Another World

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

Next Chapter ->

„Are you reading those strange stuff again…What was it called? Manga?”

“I’m only watching the anime because of that hot blindfolded guy.”

You don’t even try to look up from your phone, currently reading the newest publication of the Jujutsu Kaisen manga over some sketchy site online. That hot blindfolded guy…You’ll never understand why some girls are only watching Jujutsu Kaisen because of him, Gojo Satoru. This world has so much more to offer, so much more than this overpowered character not even Gege himself likes.

“It’s not exactly reading”, you mutter, so sunken into the drawn fight in front of your eyes that you simply can’t look away.

“(y/n), come back to reality. We have some classes to attend.”

Out of instinct, you roll your eyes. You’ll probably have to listen to that one professor who always talks about himself and simply reads through his presentation for three hours straight, not even allowed to look at your phone and do something useful instead. Urgh, being an uni student sucks.

“Give me a minute, I’m just finishing this chapter.”

When your friends start walking, you follow them without paying attention. This is it, the fight you’ve been waiting for. Maybe this time someone is able to defeat Sukuna, maybe this will be the day you’ve been waiting for. Fuck plot armour, fuck all the horrible things that happened last, all the beloved characters that had to die. Damn, you still miss Geto to this day. If they would have noticed sooner, he might be still alive-

“(Y/N), WATCH OUT!”

You always wondered about how death must feel like. Getting consumed by darkness, getting dragged into sheer empty space. Does it hurt? Will you die right on the spot and feel absolutely nothing? What about that myth about reminiscing your own life shortly before your death?

The second you looked into those blinding car lights, you knew exactly that you are next, that there is no way you’ll survive the hit that will sweep you off your feet, that throws your body into the air like a plastic bag.

How pathetic to die like this. Getting hit by a car while being glued to the sketches of fictional characters on your phone. What will your parents say, your family, your friends? You don’t want to die like this, but still…

You allow your eyes to rest against your harsh light, your phone dropping to the phone. You can’t escape the hit. Maybe, just maybe, you will wake up in a better world.

If stuff like that even exists.

When you open your eyes again, you brace yourself for an immense wave of pain hunting down your body, for getting greeted by those way too harsh hospital lights. But instead, your eyes open with ease. Instead, you get greeted by the dim light of a golden chandelier in and a well-painted ceiling in all different shades of purple.

“Where on earth…Am I?”, you mutter to yourself.

The second you look down on you, your heart drops to the floor. You aren’t wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized tee like you always do. No, you are covered in the softest white fabric you ever felt from head to toe, an elegant lavendel ribbon tied around your waist. And that delicate jewellery...

Immediately, you yank out of bed and almost trip over the hem of the white dress, coming to a stand in front of a mirror.

This isn’t possible. No, this has to be a feverish dream. Maybe they put you into coma after…

You swallow hard, reality hitting you with full force. You died. As soon as the car hit you, you were dead right on the spot and you knew it instantly. But why does everything feel so damn real? Frantically, your hands wander around the sweaty face that looks back at you in sheer horror through the mirror, stare at the lavendel eyes that don’t look like yours at all. But those facial features, the way your hair falls.

Is it…you?

A violent scream escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it, guts turning so uncomfortably that you feel like puking every minute. This can’t be true. This can’t be your reality now…Just before your feet give in, you grab the cool golden frame of the mirror, allow your spinning head to rest for a second.

“Lady Zenin, are you alright!?”

That distant voice, who is it talking to? Lady Zenin…Like Toji, Mai and Maki Zenin? Maybe you didn’t die but got kidnapped into a pervert cosplay party. Slowly, you turn around, face sticky in cold sweat.

But the man standing in front of you doesn’t look like a creep at all. No, he’s a truly elegant man. Maybe in his 50s, but it is clear that he’s taking care of himself. His eyes look at you worried, his gloved hands stretched out in order to help if you fall.

“Where…Where am I?”, you press out.

This isn’t your hometown. Fuck, this isn’t even your home country, not even your timeline. The stuff in this room looks so old and somehow magical, let alone that dress you’re wearing.

“I don’t understand, Lady Zenin. You are in your room”, the man replies visibly worried.

“What country?”, you probe.

“My lady, we are still in Avaloria…Are you feeling unwell? Shall I call the doctor-“

“In Avaloria. And I’m Lady Zenin…”, you mumble to yourself.

This doesn’t make any sense. You didn’t pay that much attention to geography, but you know for a fact that Avaloria isn’t a real country and that your last name definitely isn’t Zenin. But oh that last name is definitely familiar to you, so familiar that it’s frightening. Suddenly a shiver runs down your spine, dark foreshadowing letting your fingertips shake.

“What is my father’s name?”

You don’t want this answer. No, all you want to do is waking up from this dream, from this nightmare. You aren’t a lady, you aren’t a Zenin. You are nothing but plain (y/n) who adores anime and manga a little too much and still goes to university. You are nothing but a normal young woman.

“Your lordship…Your lordship is called Naobito Zenin, my Lady”, he stutters.

“And my brother’s name is Naoya, huh?”, you huff out.

This has to be a bad joke, right? What is this man, a stand-up comedian, maybe? You cross your arms in front of your chest, force your body to stop shaking. You need to put this madness to an end right now.

“Yes, exactly my Lady!”, the man in front of you literally cries out in relief while the ground is pulled underneath your feet.

No, nothing about this is right. These men, their names…They are nothing but an invention by Gege Akutami, nothing but drawn figures in a book adapted into an anime. They are nothing but fantasy, nothing but fiction.

“B-But…”

Your voice fails as your mind can’t process anymore. Is it really possible that…You were reincarnated into a world like this?

“Are you causing a scene again, sister?”

You don’t recognize the voice speaking behind you, but something inside you tells you that if you turn around, you will be greeted by…

Cold, sharp brown eyes.

Your very own orbs widen in sheer horror. Those dark green roots, the annoyed look on his face, his tall muscular frame. He looks exactly like the manga made him appear. But instead of wearing a kimono, he is dressed in a black uniform with golden and purple details.

“You’re looking like a fucking prince…”, you breathe out.

“Are you trying to upset me, (y/n)?”

“Master Naoya, the lady doesn’t appear like herself today. Shall I call the doctor?”, the older man speaks with low voice.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

He grabs your chin before you’re able to stop him, his cold glare hitting you with full force.

Naoya just touched you. Fucking Naoya Zenin is standing in front of your very own self, his fingers wrapped around your chin, staring at you so intensely that you feel like fainting any given minute.

“Don’t you dare to mess today’s meeting up because of your weird acting. It took father and I months to arrange a meeting with that lousy prince. Let’s hope that he finds liking in you or else I’ll marry you below your status”, he hisses into your face.

“You can’t just arrange my wedding. Who the hell do you think you are?”, you spit into his face out of instinct.

“All the attention must have gone to your head, (y/n). Who do I think I am? I am your big brother, father’s right hand. And you are nothing but a woman. Your only worth is to marry into a wealthy and influential family. I will never understand why the prince of our country found a liking in you. Apart from a pretty face, you have nothing to offer.”

He yanks your chin away roughly, forces you to take a few steps back and almost sends you onto the floor with the sheer force of his fingertips. Your body quivers in anger, hands balled into fists so tight that your knuckles stand out white.

“I don’t need a prince, I know my own worth you fool!”, you demand.

“Who taught you to talk like this? You are a lady, (y/n). Finally start to act like one or I will tell father about your behaviour. Maybe a venesection will cause your mouth to finally shut, what do you think?”

“A vene-what?”

“Urgh, just be quiet and get yourself ready. You will meet the prince as soon as you are presentable. And don’t you dare to disappoint us”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

And then he’s gone in the wind while you stand in the middle of the room, still unable to catch your shaky breath. Who the hell does this guy think he his? Where exactly are you, what world is this? Your head begins to spin so violently that you fear to lose your balance, your whole life crashing down on you like a house of cards.

This isn’t 2024 on mother earth anymore. This…this is something completely different. And that man who introduced himself as your brother made it all too clear that there’s no way you’ll survive here if you don’t play along. Maybe it’s like in that anime you just watched, the one with the girl names Raeliana. If that’s the case…

“Please call in my maids. I wish to be dressed”, you speak out monotone.

“Of course, Lady (y/n).”

You will play along. But there is no way in hell you’ll let him force you into a marriage with some strange prince you don’t even know. Your eyes are fixated on themselves, the new lavender color gleaming back at you being so unknown as well as all those women who scurry around you.

Who is this prince, anyway? If you’re really in some strange jujutsu kaisen verse, it must be another character. Maybe Geto…Oh, that would be nice. But what if it’s Sukuna? You shake your head, haunt away your stinging imagination. No, you won’t marry the king of curses. Actually, there aren’t many men you’d like as your husband.

How is this supposed to turn out good?

-at the salon-

You feel like fainting any given minute, heart pounding so roughly against your well-dressed ribcage that every beat sends a shiver down your spine. If the man standing in front of you isn’t called Geto or Nanami, you don’t want him. And apart from that…Aren’t you too young to marry anyway? Why does your family want to get rid of you so badly?

“It is so nice to finally meet you in person, Lady (y/n).”

Your heart drops to the floor.

That voice.

Fuck. It’s no doubt that it’s him.

“Let me introduce myself properly: I’m Prince Satoru, the future king of Avaloria.”

The second your brother steps aside, you get greeted by bright blue eyes and a cheeky grin.

This is Gojo Satoru, that “hot guy with the blindfold”, one of the last men you’d like to marry even if he’s dressed in a fine suit with red and blue details. Out of instinct, you cross your arms in front of your chest, narrow eyes staring him into the ground. You will never understand the hype behind his smile and eyes when it’s all too clear that he’s a player, a womanizer. A man like Gojo Satoru isn’t the husband you were imagining, not the man you were looking for since you were a child.

“I’m not marrying that man”, you announce into the silence of the room.

Soo, this was the very first chapter of my new series and it makes me beyond excited! So please, if you enjoyed it, it would make me beyond happy if you like/comment/reblog that work of mine and let me know what you think. Thank you guys so much for your constant support, it means the world 🤍

Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren @sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls

[sombreset]

I’m still not over Deadpool & Wolverine: WWIII. At all.

(Spoilers, also cw for blood and gore and just. Weird imagery)

There’s SO much stuff that happens in this comic, way more than I am posting here, that really digs deep into why Wade and Logan are so intertwined. They both suffered horribly. They’re both near immortal. They’ll both outlive everything they know. They both have rage that doesn’t ever seem to go away, they just have very different coping mechanisms.

This comic LITERALLY intertwines them, in more than one way.

First example is the one most people talk about, which is the whole thing where Logan cuts off a chunk of his own leg and cooks it for Wade so he has at least something to eat (is it gay to make the decision to cut off a piece of yourself and give it to another man so he has something to eat, even tho you both technically don’t need to eat, it just helps? Who knows)

Second example is the end of the comic, which I wish more people would talk about. While they’re fighting a big bad, Wade gets torn apart. Like… crushed. Into pieces. Past the point where Logan thinks regenerative healing can save him. And Logan is, despite all his complaining of how much he doesn’t like Wade, destroyed. Scared, and as the big bad points out— afraid.

Logan then goes into an absolute blind rage. He’s in pain. He’s scared. He genuinely thinks he lost Wade, and he loses it.

All the while, a small voice can be heard telling him to stop. Begging him to stop. He’s lost control. The antagonists of the comics wanted this, and while Logan is thrashing around they intentionally teleport him in front of a mother and child, fully expecting Wolverine to not tell the difference between friend or foe and kill them. Logan certainly cannot tell what he’s doing at this point. He can hardly see.

And then…

Suddenly, Wade. Because some of Wade’s blood got into Logan, he literally grew OUT of him, just in time to stop him from murdering innocent people. Because Logan had fully lost control. Wade pleads with him to stop, and in the end he literally pulls out one of Logan’s bones and shoves it into his face to get him to actually snap out of it. Afterwards, they have a lot of really good conversation, but to avoid clogging this post more— tldr Wade calms Logan down, and tells him “Nobody can decide we’re monsters but us.” Which… I love.

Later on after the fight, there’s this funny panel (and a few before) where Wade’s like dude we are sharing your ass AND dick rn isn’t that crazy and then yeah he makes the comment about being “in” Logan which. Nice

Anyways crazy b/c by the end of this comic, parts of Logan have literally been inside of Wade (chunk of Logan’s leg eaten by Wade) and ALL of Wade has been in Logan (he fucking grew out of him)

This comic is VERY good go read it if you haven’t

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit, infidelity and confusion. Angst and smut and yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Cunnilingus, rough sex, infidelity, dirty talk, objectification, manipulation, Sugu is a hoe and awful (sry) Toru is a toxic hottie

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 10.5k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't even understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a horrible idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance to touch you and... The moment he touches you...Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you, while you're left confused... will everyone get hurt?

Chapter 2 - Masterlist

Chapter 3

Satoru's POV

Sugu walks him in, and Shoko comes up to Satoru then, shoving at him playfully. Satoru smiles, hugging her tightly and making her wriggle.

“Miss me much?” He teases, she scoffs but hugs him back.

“A bit, maybe.” Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes, then Shoko snatches you by the hand, pulling you to her. “Heard you all are kind of friends now huh?”

“Nah, I still hate her.” Satoru comes and pats you on the head, making you scowl up at him.

“They’re bonding.” Suguru says, and Shoko laughs, shaking her head, brushing back her amber locks.

“That’s on par with Gojo, the hate love thing.” Shoko shoves at Satoru again, and he laughs, brushing his hair back, sliding off his shades then.

“No love here.” Satoru says, and he watches you falter a bit, fuck why are you always just ruining him by existing?! Would you just… not be so beautiful, not smell so good, not be so fucking perfect.

He watches Suguru kiss on Shoko’s neck and cheek then, and scowls angrily, because he literally can’t stand the fucking thought of how Suguru doesn’t appreciate you enough. You sip your drink, and Shoko pulls you to her, kissing on your cheek sweetly. At least Shoko pays attention, considering Suguru seems to be content.

“Let’s play a game, hmm?” Suguru mentions, finally brushing your hair back, but he has a hand on Shoko’s hip. Satoru remembers how bad he had it for her way back in high school. When Satoru looks at you, you’re staring right at him, desire stark on that pretty face.

Fuck.

You ruin him with a look.

“What kind of game, hmm? Are we going high school spin the bottle?” Shoko asks, grabbing her pack of cigarettes then.

“Pretty much, truth or dare but with alcohol.” Satoru rolls his eyes as Suguru speaks.

“Truth or dare, so high school. It’d be almost like a reunion, except short stuff here.” Satoru pats your head again and you smack at it.

“Sorry I’m not freakish tall!”

“Freakish! You’re so-”

“I’m going for a smoke first!” Shoko waves, and Suguru laughs.

“I’ll join you.”

He follows her out, and Satoru watches your eyes narrow as they walk to the balcony together, shutting the glass doors with the blinds. Satoru comes up to you, hands on your teeny waist, and you can’t stop the moan escaping from your pretty lips, eyes shutting for a moment.

“He like that with the other girls?” Satoru murmurs, leaning close, one hand on the kitchen counter as he grabs you tightly. Your eyes meet his, and you shake your head slowly.

“No, not like this. Usually more included. But…” You look up at him, running your hand up Satoru’s torso, and he trembles at your touch, cock rock hard just from that. You make him so pathetic. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“Think I’ll keep ya company huh?” He teases, and you nod shyly, but something in your eyes has shifted. “One time fucking me and you’re wrecked.”

“Shut it, Satoru.” He smirks down at you, caressing your face with the backs of his fingers, feeling the softness of your skin.

“Nah, you’re happy I’m here. Admit it.”

“Yes, but fuck off also.” He laughs then, and you tilt your head, smiling up at him a bit, an upturn of your lush lips, making his heart falter.

“So you and Sugu don’t play alone, right?”

“Um. He has but he videoed it.” Your brows draw together a bit.

“So do we do that? Video me fucking your brains out, I mean.”

“What!”

“Mmhmm. Why not.”

“You’re… I… that seems…” You just trail off, then your pretty cheeks turn bright pink, making you look even more precious.

“You love that idea. Bet you never came so hard.” Now you are bright red, eyes just fixated on his chest, until he cups your face and directs your gaze up to his. Your pupils are already dilated so big it’s intoxicating. “Lie to my face, pretty.”

“Pretty, huh? You’ve changed a lot. Pussy that good?” You demand, and his heart slams in his chest, his thigh slipping between yours, as you both hear Shoko and Suguru laughing out back at something. How could Sugu just leave you here, especially with him?

A fucking mistake.

You cry out, biting your lower lip, as Satoru’s strong thigh slips between your lush ones, and he feels that heat radiating from you, and he pushes even more, as you shift your hips up, whimpering, your eyelashes fluttering. Fuck he could take you right here, lick that perfect pussy on this counter, bury his cock to the hilt, feel you cumming all over him.

He grips your hair, yanking it back, while his other hand grabs an ass cheek, up under your little dress. “So desperate, you’ll just grind on my leg. Pathetic.”

“Fuck you, Satoru.” But you do it again, your little hands clinging to his shirt, and he feels it then.

“Soaked. From nothing.” He was hard from nothing, but he loves to get that reaction, that glare on that usually sweet face, fuck you melt him. “You’re so easy for me, are you this way for him?”

“Shut up. Ugh.” You pull back, but he presses you down, holding your ass with both hands now, and you can’t stop the moan that breaks out.

“Bet I could get you off just like this.” He whispers, lips just a breath from yours, and he can taste you, your sweetness. You bite that lower lip to death, you always do, your brows drawing together in pleasure.

“You don’t act like you hate me at all.” You whisper, he sighs then.

“I do hate you. So much. Hate how you’re looking at me.”

Satoru does hate it.

He hates your dazed out eyes, it kills him.

“Kiss me.” He blinks, confused and you yank him by his shirt.

“Kiss you?” You nod, and he doesn’t need to be told twice, because fuck, he’s dying to taste you again, to feel you, to picture those lips are his and his alone.

Satoru slams his mouth to yours, kissing you so hard your teeth clink together, moaning into your mouth, sliding his tongue in and possessing it when you gasp. His hand cups your face, and fuck if your moans and your taste didn’t make him stupidly hard, so hard it hurts. He lifts you then, kissing you over and over, hungry, and you just fall apart in his arms.

“Such a slut. Aren’t you?” He says, meanly, and you just whine, grinding on him, soaking his pants, and Satoru is losing any sense of control. It takes everything in him not to slide into that little cunt.

“Sh-shut up.” You mumble, stuttering as your eyes roll back, as your head lolls to the side, and he starts kissing up the side of your neck, sucking then, your hands grip his hair, little body arching up for more.

You both hear it then, the door opening, and you jerk back, eyes wide on his, lips reddened from his kisses, eyes blown out. Satoru eases his thigh from it’s spot and you fucking whine so sexy he has to turn away for a moment, to breathe, to try to focus. He wants it to be just you two, he doesn’t know if he can handle it again, but maybe he could make you see.

That you deserve to be worshiped by him . And him alone.

But he won’t get to, will he?

And so he tries to hate you. But how can he hate someone who tastes so fucking sweet on his lips?

Your POV

Your cunt is just dripping, as you look up at this tall, white haired demon that has some insane effect on your body, on your mind. His blue eyes are dilated to pinpoints, as he runs his hand through those silky locks, gaze firm on your lips, before drifting down to your breasts. You embarrassingly notice that you’ve made a wet spot on his leg and panic then.

He looks down, grinning however, then knocks your cup over as Shoko and Sugu get to the kitchen. “Shit, clumsy brat! Y’know how expensive these pants are!?”

You realize then, Satoru is covering for you, and you bite back a laugh, because fuck he’s thrilling, everything about him. “Shit, I’m so clumsy, ugh sorry!”

“Spilling drinks, that’s a party foul!” Shoko yells out, and you giggle out loud at that, trying to catch your breath from that kiss.

There’s something so… different about it. You can’t fucking describe. It almost terrifies you. And as you see Shoko and Suguru so close when they walk in, Suguru just so absorbed, it makes you wonder. Did Suguru just invite Satoru so you would be occupied and not feel so left out?

You’re frowning, and Satoru notices, while Suguru’s nuzzling Shoko’s neck until she shoves at him, glaring then. “What?”

Suguru notices you then, and his brows draw together, when he sees the confusion in your gaze. You and Satoru are sneaking kisses as Suguru is clearly flaunting how much he wants to be near Shoko. He clears his throat, smiling and walking up to you, pulling you against him, but you’re tense in his usually comforting hold.

“He annoy you too much, Princess?” Suguru’s lips descend but you turn your head a bit, and they end up on your cheek. You smell Shoko’s cigarettes on his breath, and then you know.

But you’d done the same, hadn’t you?

“What’s wrong, baby?” Sugu looks at you, concern in his warm gaze, and you shake your head, sighing.

“Nothing. It’s all good.”

“Let me make you a new drink to spill on Satoru, hmm?” You nod, smiling a bit, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Satoru’s gaze locks on yours, and it’s like he’s caressing you, making you ache, throb, the way he looks like you’re the only girl in the fucking world.

“You look so pretty today.” Shoko comes to you then, kissing your cheek, and you smile, kissing hers back.

“So do you!” You ease a bit, Shoko is amazing and you all had a lot of fun, she was very respectful too. It wasn’t her fault Suguru clearly…

“So, truth or dare, Suguru?” Satoru asks, as Suguru pours everyone a glass of a fancy blush wine. Suguru stands next to you, one hand around Shoko’s waist though, the other holding his glass.

“Truth.”

“Mmkay, who do you want right now?” Satoru asks, and your eyes go wide, mouth opening at it. It grows tense, as he leans against the island, just smirking like the little shit he is.

“Satoru… you’re such a dick.” Shoko says, and he scoffs, as he yanks her against him, her back pressed to his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, wait what I got for you.” He smacks a kiss on her cheek, and she grimaces, rubbing it off, making him laugh.

Suguru is tense, and you look up at him, studying the set of his firm jaw as he just looks away then, at nothing. You expected him to say you, right? You all date… even if Sugu played, he’d always put you first. But, he doesn’t answer, instead he sips that wine for a moment.

“Asked you a question. You’re not playing the game right.”

“Well, I don’t want you Satoru.”

“Breaking my heart!” Shoko laughs, but you’re just looking at Suguru, and finally he clears his throat, smirking.

“I want both of you ladies. Sorry Satoru.” He tries to make it a joke, as he winks down at you, but your heart crushes, you are sitting here feeling horrible for wanting Satoru, when Suguru couldn’t even say he wants you .

You could have gotten over it if you didn’t know what it was like to have someone clearly obsessed with you, the fucking high of Satoru pushing cum in you, and it was all you could think of all night. The way he just looks at you, the man that ‘hates’ you, was addicting in itself, and it starts to shatter what you thought you had.

“Princess…” Suguru looks down, kissing your forehead then. You can’t take it though, you sip your drink and don’t even acknowledge him. “You know I think you’re so beautiful.”

“Yep. Thanks.”

“You’re my favorite.” He whispers, but you tense.

“Can’t say it out loud?” Your eyes lock, brows raised, and Suguru blinks, surprised at you apparently.

“When did I say that I wouldn’t? Do you just want to…”

“Truth or dare, Shoko.” You say then, loud enough to break the tension of the room, and Shoko and Gojo are shoving each other, him putting her in a headlock, clearly they were friends, and it was actually cute to see. You ignore Geto’s glare, boring into your face.

“Shit, off me dickhead!” She shouts, and he grins, letting her go, and then she straightens that pretty hair, smiling. “Go for it, babes.”

“Dare you to kiss Suguru.” You say, and now Suguru is really scowling, but you couldn’t fucking care less, and Satoru smirks right with you over the wine glasses. Shoko looks down for a moment, taking a sip.

“All right, let’s do it.” She comes up to Suguru, tiptoeing, and his big hands are on her slender body as he pulls her against him, and their lips meet. You turn to pour some more wine in your glass, and Satoru casually joins, sticking out his glass, as you hear Shoko’s little moan, and the smacking of their lips.

“You’re a little bitch, I’m so surprised.” Satoru murmurs, and you stick your tongue out, making him chuckle, your fingertips touch as you top his glass off, and you peek over, to where Suguru has Shoko lifted, clearly invested in the kiss. “How could he see anyone but you?” His whisper tears through you, and you open your mouth to say something as Shoko and Suguru separate.

You don’t even acknowledge it, the blatant desire that maybe last time you’d been too drunk to see, or perhaps it had been ignited from last time. It had been the only time you’d felt weird about sharing Suguru. But honestly, you knew him for a few months, he’d known Shoko forever, of course he’d pick her.

“Princess… wanna talk?” Suguru’s whispering in your ear, it’s not the same as Satoru’s nasty words, it’s like this…

Does he feel sorry for you?

Your mind whirls with self doubt, as you struggle to act nonchalant. “Why, we’re having fun right?” You sip your drink. “Who’s next hmm?”

“I’ll ask you, truth or dare?” Suguru says softly, and you tense just a bit, looking up at him.

“Dare, why not.”

“Dare you to kiss Shoko.” You smile and walk to her, and she grabs your waist, kissing you softly. Your lips press together, tongues teasing, and you hear a whole ass groan from Satoru, making you smile against her lips.

“So hot.” Satoru murmurs, and you two giggle, before your eyes lock on Satoru, who hadn’t had a dare just yet.

“Truth or dare, Satoru?” You ask teasingly, and he sips his drink, licking those full lips and wrecking you.

“Truth.”

“You really hate me?” You ask, and he grins.

“Sure do. So much.” You roll your eyes, and the mood has lightened again, just a little less tense now.

“Truth or dare, Shoko?” Suguru asks, and she sighs.

“Dare.”

“Dare you to kiss Satoru.” She rolls her eyes, as does Gojo, then she comes over to him. You watch, your heart racing, as Satoru looks at Shoko, then at you, a challenge in his eyes. He takes a step closer to her, his tall frame towering over her, and you feel a strange mix of feelings.

He leans down, and you see the way her eyes flutter shut, the way she leans into him, eager for his touch. Satoru looks at you though, his eyes never leaving yours as his lips brush over Shoko’s, and for a second, you feel like you’re the one being kissed. You can see the hunger in his eyes, the same hunger you feel deep in your core.

They pull apart, and you notice Suguru’s hungry gaze and flushed cheeks, as if anything Shoko did excited him. “Truth or dare, Suguru.” Shoko says as she pulls back, and he smirks.

“Dare, since everyone else is picking it.”

“Dare you to kiss her on the neck.” Shoko lifts your hair then, and Suguru leans forward, pecking hot kisses on your throat, as Shoko caresses your body. You still see Satoru just looking at you, it’s like his eyes are locked on every movement. Suguru tickles you as he hums on your throat, as he and Shoko touch hands on your waist.

“Truth or dare?” Suguru asks you now, leaning up.

“Dare.” You murmur, and Suguru grins.

“Take the dress off.” You tremble a bit, insecure suddenly, and Shoko is easing the straps off your shoulders.

“Let’s see this hot number you’ve got on.” She teases, and you step back a bit from them.

“Um… Satoru, unzip me?” You ask, lifting your hair, and his lips part, stepping closer to you, setting his drink down.

His warm palm is on the back of your neck, as he gently unzips it to the bottom, and your dress falls to your ankles. You step out of it, bending to grab it off the floor, ass pressed against his hard thighs, and you hear the hitch in his breath, you bite your lip as you set your dress on a nearby chair, and you stand there, nervously in the room, as three sets of eyes take you in.

“Ugh, so hot!” Shoko muses, as you’re in a dark blue set of lingerie, little garters and lacy bralette, and you fight the urge to cover up, but when Satoru’s eyes drink you in, and you see him visibly gulp, you let your arms hang down.

“Fuck.” Is all he says, and Shoko laughs at that, Suguru smiling.

“Beautiful.” But something feels…

Insincere?

Are you just in your head?

“Thanks you all. Okay… I’m the only one undressed, huh? Whose turn?”

“Gojo, truth or dare? Pick dare ya big baby.” Shoko says, and you all laugh a bit, and Satoru shrugs.

“Fine, fine, dare.”

“Dare you to kiss her… right… here.” Shoko comes to you, fingers grazing down your breasts, and Satoru is on you so quick you couldn’t have even blinked. “He’s eager, huh?”

“Very eager.” Suguru muses, and then Satoru’s got you in his arms, so fucking strong and the grip is bruising, then he places his lips on the peak of your breast through the lace, hot tongue lavishing it over the little fabric, and you can’t stop the moan escaping.

The energy shifts, as he looks up with those stupidly beautiful eyes, lavishing the other nipple with the same attention, making the bralette soaked, as your panties were sticking to you with how turned on you were. He kisses up your breasts, sucking, biting, leaving little pops and smacks of his lips as he devours you. Your back arches for more of him, craving him so badly.

“Okay, get carried away much?” Suguru cuts in, clearing his throat, but Satoru doesn’t let you go, he just hovers his lips over yours, sighing.

“Not my fault you ask me to kiss such pretty titties.” You’re flushed now, under his clear praise, the way he makes you feel so…

Fuck didn’t Suguru used to make you feel special?

Are you awful?

“Truth or dare, Shoko.” You murmur the command, as Satoru keeps holding you, and she picks dare. “Your clothes off.”

“Well, yes mommy.” You giggle, and Satoru won’t stop staring at you, even as he lets you go, even as Shoko’s getting undressed, and you watch Suguru’s mouth drop as he studies her body, but Satoru doesn’t even glance.

“That lingerie? Hot as fuck.” Satoru says to you softly, and you can’t hide the little smile as he runs his hands down your body.

“Thank you. Oh, you look so pretty, Shoko!” You say then, and Satoru does glance, as Shoko has a gorgeous little body in black lingerie, and Suguru’s hands already roam, as he continues to stare hungrily.

“Damn, high school crush still goes hard, huh?” Satoru quips, and Suguru’s lips tense just a bit, as he looks at his friend.

“Truth or dare, Satoru?” Suguru says then.

“Dare.” Satoru answers, pouting as he looks at you.

“Mmm, come lick Shoko’s thigh. Right here.” You tense, as Satoru sighs, peering at you before he comes over to her, on his knees then, and she laughs, as if it’s a silly little sight to see. Satoru laughs too, and Suguru is looking on, clearly hard in his pants, as you stand off to the side and watch.

Satoru licks her inner thigh, popping a kiss, before standing, and you don’t know how you feel. Seeing Satoru was sexy but…

Huh.

“Mmmkay, Sugu, your dare is the same.” Suguru gets down on his knees, gripping her thigh firmly, licking up it and sucking, moaning as his hands slide up to her ass then. Satoru stands, watching with a bit of a glare then, and he turns to you, hands on your waist firm, looking down at you.

“Don’t need a dare for this.” He says, then he’s on his knees, kissing on your inner thigh, and you cry out at the sensation, earning a look from Suguru, who’d been kissing up further as Shoko had her hands in his long silky locks.

“Satoru…” You whisper, as his eyes look up at you, and that look? It’s so fucking intense, as he bites your inner thigh, making you cry out.

“Ah, we're done with the dares, huh?” Suguru muses, but Satoru just smirks on your thigh.

“You seemed to really be enjoying yourself, don’t wanna leave her out do you, now?” Suguru stands then, and Shoko and him walk to both of you.

“Do you feel left out, Princess?”

Sure fucking do.

Sure have.

But now… Satoru is on his knees before you, and fuck if you don’t feel incredibly sexy.

“N-no. Don’t worry. Have fun.” You say with a small smile, it’s what you’d said last time Shoko came, when it got to the point you were kind of in the way. Suguru frowns though, and Shoko pouts.

“I never wanted you to feel left out last time.” Shoko says softly, caressing your face and kissing your lips, which you sigh into as Satoru kisses higher.

“I know you didn’t, sweetie. You paid a lot of attention.” Your remark doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru, who rightfully looks a little resigned. “These things can be… mmnh… tricky.”

“Someone dare me to lick this little pussy.” Satoru says down there, and fuck if you’re not dripping , but Suguru is kissing you now, almost desperately.

“Baby are we good?” He asks, as Satoru bites your thigh hard, and you don’t know how to fucking answer.

“S-sure.” You mumble, Satoru is climbing higher, and it’s too much, you want him so fucking bad you can’t think. You can’t be mad at Suguru for wanting Shoko.

Fuck maybe…

“Come here Princess.” Suguru is pulling you away, and you blink in confusion as he drags you to his room, shutting the door. You shiver as his room is ice cold, rubbing the goosebumps that rise on your arms.

“What’s wrong, Sugu? Am I ruining your fun?”

“You could never. What’s Satoru said, to make you act this way?”

“He hasn’t said anything. You’re just so into Shoko you couldn’t even say you want me. How do you think I feel?”

Suguru blinks, sighing. “I want you clearly. I just also want her, just like you obviously wanna fuck Satoru.”

“You pushed that on me, first off. Second off, you never said you wanted anyone we played with as much as me. You said you’re the one I want most. ”

“And I… I do. I didn’t know how to really say it on the spot.” You don’t believe him though, even when his eyes drink you in, when he puts on that seductive look, touching you so gently, carefully.

“It’s okay if you want her more, but maybe we shouldn’t… be together if you'd prefer her.”

“What the fuck? Really?” He’s glaring, and you just shrug.

“I’m fine with us playing but I think you want her so much more-”

“This is Satoru.”

“No, Sugu, I can think for myself.”

“Well I want to be with you. You . I didn’t ask Shoko out.”

“Yet.”

“Really?” You just shrug again. “I’m sorry that I said it that way. Can you just… come here.” He pulls you to him, lips drinking in yours, arms wrapping you tightly. “I should have made you feel good, I’m sorry baby.”

“No it’s fine-” He kisses you over and over, kissing your little thoughts out of your mind.

“Have I been doing such a bad job at being a boyfriend that asshole Satoru makes you feel better?” He's sliding his hands down your body, pressing you into the door. You struggle to breathe.

“Sugu, I know you don't love me and that's okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you love…”

“I never said I didn't.” He says the words through gritted teeth, and your resolve wavers, when he slides a hand down your soft stomach, down to your panties, as he looks down at you so sweetly. “Is that what this is? Did I hurt you…”

“I don't think I'm the prettiest but y-you made me feel like that. With the other um… ladies. But… it's fine if-”

“I am being a dick. Huh?” He murmurs, his fingers sliding under your panties now. You shake your head.

“No. You could never be.” You brush his hair back, and he sighs, kissing you softly, biting your lower lip, tongue sliding against it. You moan softly, arms sliding up to wrap around his neck then, as the familiar embrace feels so good. But your mind is just whirling with doubt.

“I hesitated.” Suguru speaks, popping kisses all over your face. “I'm so sorry baby. You should know you're important to me.” He says, and then you feel awful, for what you did, kissing Satoru. But… 

“You really like her, Sugu.” You say softly, and he sighs, finding you with his fingertip then, where you’re aching, and making you cry out softly.

“We're just close, baby. If it's too much I won't do anything with her.”

“No it… it's fine. I'm just getting in my head, huh?”

“Let me get you out of it.” You go to ask how then he's on his knees, sliding your panties to the side with a sure twist of his fingers. “Let me show you how fucking gorgeous you are.”

“Sugu…” His tongue finds you then, and you gasp at it, as he works you how he knows to, as two of his long, thick fucking fingers slide in your tight entrance, and you gush around them.

“Love how you taste. Love how you feel.” You fall into it, head slamming back against the door, fuck if he didn't know what to do, what to say for you to fall apart. You cover your mouth and he pulls back. “No, make noise.”

“No. They're…”

“Make. Noise. For me.” He spreads your lips, yanking one of your thighs over his broad shoulder then. You’re trembling as he flicks his tongue up and circles your little clit, twitching in response. 

“S-Sugu…” You’re gasping as he starts hitting your spot, the one he knows so fucking well, looking up at you with those seductive eyes of his, and you can’t help but forget everything for a moment. He makes you feel so desired, even if…

“Cum on my face, Princess, please, let me taste you.” He murmurs, as he pulls back and takes a breath, and you shatter then, falling apart, as he laps you up, until you can’t hardly function. You’re boneless, as he has to hold you up, before sliding back up your body, tilting up your chin.

“Y-you can’t just eat me out every time you want… something… mmm…” He’s rubbing up and down between your folds, and you’re so sensitive you hiss, hips bucking from the touch.

“I don’t want to not have you in my life, Princess.” He cups your face so gently, planting a kiss on your forehead, and your eyes flutter shut. “I’ll make sure I pay attention to both of you. I guess because Satoru’s here I…”

“No, last time it was the Shoko and Geto show.” You whisper those words, and Suguru leans back. “Yeah you can’t lick my feelings away, no matter how talented your tongue is.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just want to show you how much I desire you, beautiful girl.” You blink back some emotion. Just yesterday you’d been so in love with Suguru, how had Satoru made you question everything so quickly.

“Let’s just have fun, I won’t get upset again.” You say softly, and he exhales, smiling down at you, brushing back your hair. “It’s okay, Sugu, promise. I’m going to be having fun with your jerk of a friend too.”

Suguru smirks, rolling his eyes. “He is such a little shit, isn’t he?”

“He really is.”

“All right baby come on. Forgive me for being thoughtless?” He asks, as he runs his hands down your shoulders, and you bite your lower lip.

“I wasn’t even mad, Sugu, just…” Just thinking that the way Sugu looks at you is nothing like his psycho bestie. “Just things are a little complicated in this. I guess I don’t think I can compete with years of being best friends.”

“There’s no competition, me and her have only ever been friends. I didn’t sleep with her back in college, that was all Satoru.”

“Hmm.” Weird, because it was as if Satoru and her were friends, and Suguru just looked at her like…

Like Satoru does with you.

What sort of mess was this going to be?

“Suguru, y’know how you videoed being with a girl because you were out of town or whatever?” He frowns.

“Are you mad about that too? I thought-”

“No, no… just what if I did something like that. Would you really be fine with it?” He tilts his head, grinning then. “What!?”

“Yeah it would be fucking hot. Why does Satoru already wanna be a porn star?” You can’t actually believe he is okay with that.

If you were mine, I’d never fucking share you.

Huh.

“No, it was just a thought, Sugu. Let’s go they’re probably fucking without us, hmm?” He laughs a bit, and then you all step back out into the living room, and Shoko and Satoru are just playing cards, laughing, Satoru’s shirt is open a bit, just three buttons, and his sleeves are rolled up.

But they’re nowhere near close. They both look up at you, Shoko smiling a bit, but Satoru is glaring as he studies your body, ever so slowly. Suguru gets a little red in the cheeks as he takes in Shoko’s still nearly nude form, and you see it, the look in his damn eyes, it’s just not what he gives you. You try to shake those thoughts off, as he’s holding your hand tightly.

Suguru is so good to you, why did Satoru have to ruin your thoughts?

“Bet you two had fun, huh?” Shoko winks at you, making you blush now, and Suguru pulls you close, arm around your waist, grinning.

“Just had to talk to the Princess alone for a few.”

“Talk… uh huh.” Shoko teases again.

“Talk to her-” Sugu starts and you shut his mouth with a hand, and then he laughs against your palm. He drags you over to where they’re re-stacking up the cards, but Satoru says nothing, as you sit down next to him, shivering a bit.

“You cold, brat?” He asks, and you nod, then he’s taking his shirt off, revealing his toned, hard muscles of his chest and abdomen. You damn near drool looking at his marble skin, as he wraps a shirt around your shoulders. You smell him, that clean scent that’s fucking intoxicating, some insane expensive cologne you’d like to bathe in.

“Thank you, Toru.” You say softly, and he just nods, going back to shuffling cards as you sit there in his stupidly expensive dress shirt over your lingerie. Suguru looks at you two curiously for just a moment before murmuring something in Shoko’s ear, and she’s laughing at him, shoving him.

“Toru, what’s up with this nickname hmm?” You just shrug, feeling the soft fabric on you as Satoru’s big hand goes to your thigh.

“I like it. Do you not?” Satoru leans close to you, brushing your hair back, but then he pulls it, at the nape of your neck, making you gasp a bit, as you meet his gaze, so vividly blue it hurts to look at.

“I hate when you say it. Hate what it does to me.”

You whine then, it’s unavoidable, and he reacts quickly, pinning you to the couch then, on your back, making you soaked, more soaked than you had been from Suguru’s expert lips. You errantly notice Shoko is in Sugu’s lap, straddling him, but it’s just an afterthought, because Satoru on top of you consumes you so much.

Satoru’s POV

“Still hate me so much, need to fuck me again?” Your whisper drives him insane, he moans quietly, as he looks at how fucking beautiful you are under him, your hair splayed across the couch in soft waves, framing your perfect little face.

He hates you.

Hates how good you look in his dress shirt, how pretty your curves look in that lingerie, hates having to do anything with Shoko when all he wants to do is rail that perfect little cunt. Fill you up till you’re dripping for days. You’re panting, that color on those cheeks making your eyes so bright, your lips parted just so, tempting him with every shallow breath you take.

“Didn’t Sugu please you enough, little whore?” He demands through gritted teeth in your ear, and you shiver at his words. He’s mean to you, would you just be mean back and not get… more turned on!?

“I don’t know, feel me and tell.” You whisper in his ear, breath tickling it, as your words make him spiral out of control. He wants you alone, he doesn’t want to fucking be around anyone else. God help him if Suguru tried to make him fuck Shoko, not that she wasn’t gorgeous, she wasn’t you. But you… weren’t even his.

It makes him insane.

“Beg for it, little slut.” He glides his hand down your soft tummy, which trembles under his sure touch, and you moan so sexy, arching your back, and your breasts are in his face. He yanks those cups down, eyeing your perfect, lush breasts, your nipples just begging for his mouth.

“Beg for it, hmm? You want it just as bad.” Your hand rubs over his crotch then, and he bites back a groan, he’s rock hard and it hurts, he grinds on your little hand for any relief, pre cum making him sticky.

“Then I won’t touch you.” He yanks his hand away, and Satoru errantly notices Suguru is going down on Shoko, and here you two are, in a little argument. He sees your gaze hit them for a moment, but your eyes go right back to his, pouting… fuck he’d give you anything when you look at him like that.

“Please, Toru.” He growls, grabbing your face then, your delicate little face in his huge hands, fuck you’re so tiny compared to him…

“Hate that. Shut your fucking mouth.” You bite that lip, killing him, wrapping a leg around his hip then, trailing your little heel down his thigh, and he trembles. Satoru Gojo trembles.

What you do to him…

“Fine… Satoru , please. Please touch me.” You barely speak, it’s only for him to hear, as you both hear telltale moans next to you, but everything faded as if it were just the two of you. Then you take his hand in your tiny one, pressing it to your panties, whimpering, and he’s done.

“Pathetic, begging for me. So desperate?” You just nod, and he hates it, he hates you, hates how soaked you are. “Holy fuck…”

“Want you.” Satoru’s chest tightens, as those words slip from your pretty mouth, the words he has ached for, though he would never admit. “S’much… want you… touch me oh please!”

“Fuck me…” He’s so hard it’s throbbing, he could cum right now if he just pressed against one of your plush thighs. He slides his two fingers in your slick heat, and your tight walls clench him, as you gush around them, soaking him. He watches your brow scrunch up with pleasure, your eyes dilating as your hips buck up. “Fuckin soaked… from what, brat?”

“You know why, shut up.” You gasp, your hands clinging to his bare chest, and he chuckles, kissing down your collarbone, pumping in and out of your dripping little cunt, so wet he can hear it squishing.

“Slutty little pussy doesn’t need much prep for me, huh?” Your mouth opens and you moan, so fucking sexy he can’t stand it, as he peels off your panties, and you’ve got a big wet spot on them, your wetness drooling out of that pretty pussy. He moans out then, how can he hold it back when he sees you? “Fuck…”

Satoru spreads your thighs, unzipping his pants and sliding them off, and he watches your eyes go dazed with desire, your little hand grabbing his cock, stroking, feeling like fucking silk. Satoru snatches your hands up then, by your dainty little wrists, in one of his hands he presses them over your head, into the arm of the couch.

“Satoru…” You whine, hips wiggling, and he looks down at the precum pouring from his tip, the cock that’s throbbing as he slides it between your glistening lips, and your eyes flutter shut when he rubs it on your puffy little clit. “ Satoru .”

Fuck, his name on your lips…

His eyes lock on yours, and he teases you with just the tip, holding in the moan of pleasure as he feels you, soaking wet, so fucking tight. “Why are you so wet from nothing, brat? Fucking say it.”

You look to the side, and Satoru sees Shoko and Suguru in his peripherals, weird he barely noticed them fucking, his best friends. No, nothing existed with you. Oh how he can’t wait to get you all alone, to truly ruin you. He can tell he already has had an effect, especially with your next words.

“It’s how you look at me.” You say softly, and Satoru tenses then, as your cock drunk eyes meet his, as your perfect breasts rise and fall with each breath. You’re so vulnerable, so beautiful, and fuck you feel so good. Satoru leans down then over you, his lips on yours, sighing as he tastes your sweet breath, the taste and feel of you that haunted him all damn night, and you’re right here.

If only you would be his.

“How I look at you?” He taunts you but you just whimper, rolling your hips up for more of his teasing, and you nod then, kissing him softly.

“Yes, how you look at me. It gets me so wet, Satoru.” You nearly just mouthed those words and he moans then, thrusting his hips and burying his length inside you, and fuck he almost cums just there, you’re so tight, squeezing him so much he has to hold himself back. You’re throbbing around him, tears in your pretty eyes as you cry out for him.

“All I gotta do is look at you, and you’re this ready?” He’s pressing down on you as he speaks, and you nod then, eager, eyes fluttering shut when he slides out and then back inside your soppy little cunt again. Your thighs tighten on his hips, as he rests his forehead on yours, wanting to say how much he craves you, how you are ruining him, how you consume him…

Does Satoru hate you or…

“You so easy for me?”

“F-fuck… p-please just…” You roll your hips, and he bottoms out then, you take him so well somehow, like you’re made for him. He couldn’t tell you that though.

“Desperate little slut.” He wants to tell you how gorgeous you are, how fucking lucky he is to even be inside you, but at those mean words you’re soaking him further, whining out. “Gonna fuck you s’good baby you’ll never be able to think of anything, all you’ll know is my name.”

Your POV

“Satoru!” You’re crying his name out as he starts fucking into you, and fuck he’s so long, the curved tip dragging on your walls, as he’s holding your wrists in a bruising grip, just staring into your eyes, and you almost cum right then. He has you so close with little to no touching and a few thrusts, you are pathetic.

No thoughts of anyone else or anything else exist, it’s like it’s transformed to where it’s only Satoru, owning you, his free hand yanking your thigh and pushing in impossibly deeper. Then you can’t take it, the pressure, his grip, those damn eyes that you fall hopelessly into, and then he lets go of your wrists, and you grip his shoulders, manicured nails digging in.

You can hear Shoko and Suguru moaning, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care, all you care about is how you’re soaking the couch, how good it feels when Satoru owns your little pussy. He does own it too, he leaves no fucking question, as he’s smashing into you, it’s rough and you’re struggling to take it, but oh you want it, you love him bruising that cervix.

He presses his lips to your ear, and you hear that whimper, the one he tried to hide last time, as one of his hands finds your clit then, rubbing it between two fingers, and the pressure builds.

“Make you forget- ah- everything. But me.” His words intoxicate you, urging you on, and then you’re gripping tightly, crying out in pleasure.

“C-cumming…” You whisper back, in his ear, and then he audibly groans, pressing in deep, fucking you into the couch, cock wrecking you, as you cum all over it, dripping down his balls, your ass, his thighs. Fuck you’re soaking everything, just dripping from cumming so hard, and you damn near lose consciousness as he keeps fucking you through it, not slowing down.

“Make you stupid, forget your own fucking name. Forget everything.” He looks at you now, hand sliding up your throat, soaked with your arousal, pressing at your pulse point now. He pauses, eyes locking then, and you take his wrist, nodding silently, and then oh God he’s squeezing your little throat.

You’re fading in and out as he builds you up again, absolutely making you forget everything. What was your name again? Where are you?

Nothing but Satoru Gojo.

The asshole. Mean. Hates you.

Fucking you next to his best friend, your boyfriend, oh yeah… you have one of those don’t you? But you’re a little slut for Satoru Gojo and you couldn’t deny that fact, not when you’re pulsing around him, cum making it slippery as he continues to choke you out, taking your oxygen.

Then there’s really nothing but Satoru, blurry above you, as you feel yourself in a mix of lightheadedness and pleasure. Like you’re floating. You’ve never been choked, as if your life is in his hands, this man you should hate, but you don’t… no, when his blue eyes look down at you and your cunt is milking him for everything, you feel nothing close to hate.

Pure desire.

You cum again, gasping for breath, and he releases your throat then, laying on top of you, and it’s so intimate this position, his chest squishing your soft breasts, as he plants gentle kisses down your throat. His thrusts slow, and he looks right at you, as you blink and try to come to. He caresses your cheek so sweetly, as he rolls his hips, grinding that tip on your cervic.

“S-Satoru… s’good, too… too good… I…” You can’t form a word anymore, blinking and gulping for air, and Satoru studies you carefully, as your head lolls back, as your back arches.

“Fuck you’re pretty.” He murmurs, and you’ve heard it a ton from many others, but how he… “I hate it. How beautiful you are. Hate it.” There’s anger in his voice, as he shoves in deep and you cry out in pain, and shatter around him, while he’s whispering hate in your ear.

If hate is this, you could get used to it.

“H-hate you… too… mmm…” He smirks, kissing your lips, pressing his full ones on yours, and your tongues play, as your release drips around both of you.

“Need to cum in you. I’d put a baby in you if you were mine.” He huffs, his cheeks flushed, his eyes drunk off you, and you brush back that snowy white hair, staring at his beautiful face, as he says things he shouldn’t.

Suguru cums in girls.

Not you.

But could you do this? Are you so horrible?

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Yet.” Satoru says then, as if sensing your inner turmoil, but then he starts fucking you hard again, groaning as you cling to him, as he fucks away any brain cells left. “Not yet. Gonna be alone first.”

Alone with him.

Fuck you couldn’t…

“Cum one more time, be a good little slut would you?” He slams in deep, and you do fall apart, as if on command, and you’re still throbbing even as he pulls out and leans back, cumming on your tummy, his head thrown back as he moans, loudly.

Fuck it turns you on more.

You notice Suguru and Shoko seem to have finished, as Suguru’s laying next to her, brushing her hair back gently. And that’s where the big difference lies, because you’re getting called a slut, getting came on, and Shoko is getting aftercare, and sweet nothings whispered in her ear. But… did you want that, or did you want exactly what Satoru Gojo gave you?

He exhales, and you take your pointer finger, spreading his cum around, lapping it up on your tongue, and Satoru’s eyes widen, his jaw clenched with clear desire, as you moan while you taste him. He’s trembling over you, and in that moment you realize, Satoru Gojo desires you as much as you do him. Fuck, maybe even more.

How is it possible?

“Why you gotta look like that?” He says through gritted teeth, and you flush, as he stares down with those bright blue eyes, like you’re the only thing in the world, the look alone makes you ready to go again, fucked out as you are. “Hate it.”

“I know… you hate me, huh.” You lick up more of him, and he glares, snatching your hand up.

“You exist to fucking torture me.” But you cup his face, and he sighs for just a moment, pretty and vulnerable.

“You made a mess, huh?” Suguru mentions, as he cuddles with Shoko on the other couch, and Satoru flips him off, while just enjoying your touch.

“You’re like a hedgehog, so mean but then wanting a head pat.” You tease and he glares, putting your hand back down.

“Hedgehog huh? I’d say just a dick.” Shoko says, hopping up then, and Satoru and you both look to see her fully naked. You watch Suguru’s desire as he stares at her, even as you sit up with Satoru’s help, but Satoru just looks at you, at that cum drying along your tummy in white trails.

“I need to clean up.” You get up then, walking past Suguru, who smirks at you a bit as he helps Shoko get dressed.

“Suguru…” Satoru says then, and Suguru hums.

“Yep?”

“Can I take her home for the night?” Satoru’s question stops you as you’re wiping off in the bathroom, and Suguru says nothing.

“Time for a smoke, bye!” Shoko says, and you walk back out to see Satoru and Suguru glaring at each other. You stand there, slipping panties back on, then picking up Satoru’s shirt, hopelessly wrinkled from being under you both.

“Satoru you for real?” Suguru demands, and Satoru smirks, sliding on his boxers and pants over those long legs.

“What, why not? Don’t you video fucking girls and send it to her? I’ll make sure to get such a pretty angle of that pussy sucking me in.”

“Satoru…” You murmur then, and he just grins, as Suguru is clearly angry, a vein in his throat popping out, scowling at him.

“No she’s not staying at your place, Satoru.”

“Why not? Give you smooch time with your high school crush. Let her come over and I’ll make her-”

“You can just go.” You frown then, snatching up Suguru by his wrist, looking up at him then.

“Want me to go home too?” You ask, and he frowns, shaking his head.

“No, I want him to go. He’s… done what he wanted, let me, you and Shoko spend the rest of the night. You two didn’t even do anything.” Suguru tries to purr those words, rubbing up and down your back, but you sigh.

“I’m kind of tired though.”

“Then we will just go to sleep. We can be done. No pressure, Princess. But I do want you to stay the night, I’ll snuggle in bed with you.” Suguru murmurs, and you watch Satoru roll his pretty eyes, as he gets dressed.

“Not Shoko?” You murmur, and he shakes his head.

“Just you. Satoru, I'll see you at work Monday. I’m going to have a smoke myself.” You frown.

“You smoke now?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Nah just with Shoko every now and then.” He kisses your head then, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “We’ll cuddle, promise. Bye, Satoru.”

Suguru walks out then, and Satoru just glares at him, before taking the shirt from your hands and gathering his things. You feel so… disgusting suddenly, what are you even fucking doing? You don’t want to stay the night with your boyfriend, no you want… him, Satoru Gojo, the man who’s looking at you intensely as you slip on a dress over yourself finally.

“I hate you.” You roll your eyes, sighing.

“I’m aware. You like to say that.” He just sighs, then yanks out his cell phone, looking at it.

“I want a video of us so I can look at it if I gotta fuck anyone else.” He says then, and your gasp makes him smirk. “What? I won’t be able to get hard.”

“You say things like that and they ruin me.”  You whisper, blinking back odd emotions then.

“Well I can’t just fuck you, can I? You’re not mine.”

“I know.”

You both just stand there, and then he sighs, pulling you against his chest, holding you so tight you can’t breathe, but you don’t want to breathe. “Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

“Like what, Satoru?” He tilts your chin up, sighing, snowy white lashes low over his baby blues, licking his lower lip and making you ache with each motion.

“Like this I don’t fucking know. You torture me enough. Now I have to think of him on you, holding you, I can’t, I fucking can’t okay?” You blink back tears, and he slams his lips on yours, moaning into them, and you realize you’re awful .

“You ruin me.” You whisper, and he laughs, dark, not meeting his eyes.

“Haven’t ruined you yet.” You glare, but when he picks you up, dangling you off the floor, you greedily kiss him. “He doesn’t see what he has.”

“What even am I? A slutty bartender. Kissing his friend.”

“You are a slutty, short little bartender.” He keeps kissing you, as you cling your arms around his neck. “I hate you.”

“I know.” He’s easing you down, and you hate to let him go, the man that makes you feel so… “Thank you, Satoru.”

“For what? The dick? Didn’t even prep you.” He whispers meanly, but you just sigh, looking up, tilting your head back.

“No, for making me feel so special.”

He blinks, his mouth sputtering, then he glares, gripping your upper arms tight. “What the fuck do you mean. I haven’t done anything you deserve.”

“It’s how you look at me.” He leans in again, but his phone rings, and he sighs, letting you go and looking at it.

“Give me your number.” You look at him in surprise. He’d never wanted it before, in fact he’d refused. “In case you… ever need something I don't know.”

“Oh um… okay.” You grab your phone and he smirks. “What?”

“Baby pink. You’re so girlie.”

“I know… I like pink. I’d tie you up in pink ribbon.” He glares again and you actually giggle. Fuck he makes you feel alive. “There, got it?”

“Got it. Don’t annoy me with nudes please.” You roll your eyes as he walks out then, and you linger in the doorway. “I’ll nickname you short stuff.”

“I’ll nickname you Toru, since you hate it.”

He glares then turns, leaving, as you save him in your phone. You watch Satoru’s long figure leave as you walk back to Suguru’s room, plopping down on the bed, you weren’t kidding when you say you’re exhausted. You hear them giggling together, and you can’t find yourself caring, feeling left out. You just… don’t care. It’s oddly calming but also terrifying.

“Hey Princess, sleeping already?” Suguru asks later, and you realize you weren’t even under the covers. You yawn, nodding, and he kisses your cheek sweetly, making you feel horrible for how you felt about Gojo now. “I’ll be in a bit, it’s too early for me, sleepyhead.”

“Mmkay. No worries. Um… Shoko staying?”

He nods, and you tense a bit. “Don’t worry we will just hang out and unwind, I’ll be back in bed tonight.”

“Thank you, Sugu.”

***

You bleary eyed look at the little clock next to the bed and see it’s four in the morning, and you reach over to find the bed perfectly made, like Suguru never came. You yawn, then cough a bit, your throat is so parched that you feel it scratchy and annoying. You walk over through the room, and then pause when your hand hits the metal knob.

You hear moaning.

You tremble a bit, in anger, in embarrassment, because damned if Suguru lost his shit at Satoru’s suggestion, what did he even want you here for!? As some fucking joke? As the pathetic girlfriend? And he had promised you he’d come to bed, he promised…

You tip toe open the door and walk through the living room, they’re clearly in the guest room as you don’t see them, and you say fuck it, grabbing your keys, grabbing your clothes and putting on your shoes. You’re not gonna stay here to hear all of this, even if he ‘videos’ it, even if you’re kind of shit for wanting Satoru, you still couldn’t just stay there.

You weren’t even mad just…

“You’re so perfect, Shoko.” You hear, clear as day, and it feels like something is gnawing at your heart, as you struggle to get the rest of your things.

“Sugu…”

“Fuck you feel so good, you’re perfect … the most perfect-”

“Mnh!”

You drop your purse then, falling as you are hopping one one food clumsily to get a heel on, when they go quiet. Shit.

You struggle to leave when a shirtless Suguru comes out, and he is glistening with sweat and he looks at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Princess…”

You say nothing, you just dart for the door, and he stops you, a hand on the door, another grabbing your waist, and you shove him off. “Let me go.”

“Come here, come here, let’s talk about it, I didn’t mean for you to be upset, I swear, I didn’t know-”

“No, don’t touch me. I'll leave you two to it. Just let me go." You speak through gritted teeth, and Suguru turns you, your back on the door, emotion stark on his face, but you can’t bring yourself to really look at him.

"Baby, look at me."

"Don't call me that.” You finally do look at him. “I don’t even care you fucked her while I’m asleep. It’s that… she’s perfect huh?"

He blinks, sighing. "You... I didn't... you know shit just gets said-”

“Oh so you never meant it for me.”

“No! You’re upset and you’re not thinking right.” You laugh, coldly then, shaking your head. “You seemed to sure enjoy fucking Satoru you know. Lost in your own little fucking world."

"Yeah but I never told him he's better than you."

"I didn't say that!" You shove at him then, glaring, as he desperately tries to kiss you, and you turn your head.

“You made these rules but you don’t follow them.”

“I would… I… fuck I’m drunk and high, I’m sorry okay?”

“Just be with her! It’s so fucking clear.”

“I can’t lose you. Will you just sleep here, and I’ll come to bed and we’ll talk in the morning. You're just upset."

"Fuck yes I am!" You yell out then, and he sighs, reaching out, but you flinch away. "I’m going home. Enjoy the perfect pussy."

"Fucking shit… at least let me drive you."

You shake your head, getting your shit together. "No, hell no. Not leaving my fucking car here.”

“It’s four in the morning!”

“Yep, sure is. And you’re not where you promised. This game, making me your plaything, no, just no.”

“I’ll not fuck her again then, I swear. Please just… let me take you home baby, we’ll talk more tomorrow and figure this out. It’s not like we’re… monogamous. So I don’t know what you’re that upset-”

You feel everything boiling over. This was all his idea, his rules, now that he breaks them he doesn’t even want to admit it? “Don’t fucking start, it’s not you fucking her while I’m asleep, even though it’s against your own goddamn rules. You refused Satoru when he asked.”

“Because he’s clearly obsessed with you! What, you want him? Want him to fucking hurt you?”

“Like you’re not.” You scoff at his angry expression, shaking your head, clenching your keys in your palm so hard it leaves marks. “Hurting me I mean. Clearly not obsessed, I really can’t even talk with you right now. I’m furious and I’ll say mean shit if I don’t just go.”

“It’s a mistake. You’re so unforgiving?” You shake your head. “Then just promise me we’re not done. I can’t handle it.”

“You’re handling it fine.” You nudge your head over to the door. “Just be happy and leave me-”

“But I do… love you, don’t you see that? I need you.” He’s cupping your face, kissing you, and you’re just sobbing now, as it’s as if you never knew him. “I hurt you, my Princess… I’m so-”

“N-no. Don’t lie to my fucking face. Let. Me. Go. I’ll talk to you when I’m calmer, if you want. Okay?” He nods then, exhaling, kissing you again, but you don’t kiss him back, not at all.

“Please just tell me you get home safe. Are you going home?”

“Suguru, you have no right to ask right now. Now please get off me.” He lets you go finally, and you rush out, heading to your little VW beetle in the twilight.

You watch him stand by the door, looking so upset, and for a moment you feel bad, but then you feel just devastated. Tears fill your vision as you start up the car with a hum, driving away finally, and every bit further you get, the more the tension releases, until you can almost breathe again. You hit a red light, and you laugh like a maniac, as you’re the only one on the road.

You look at your phone.

Fuck it.

He won’t answer right?

“Shit… what’s wrong?” You hear Satoru’s gruff, sleepy voice, and you just start sobbing again, so hard you pull over into a brightly lit gas station. “Hey, hey… what the fuck happened?”

“I’m so sorry. I woke you.” You sob out, and you hear him sigh.

“Yeah duh. What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

It’s silent, and you internally curse.

You said too much.

“I’m stupid. You’re Suguru’s best friend… I can’t just bitch to you right now, ugh please forgive me.”

“Take a breath, short stuff. Mmkay?” You do as he says, shivering as the wind rolls through the open windows. “Where are you?”

“Um, some gas station.”

“Shit, it was that bad? What did he do…”

“I don’t even wanna get into it, I can’t cry and drive.”

“Then just… come here. You know where I live. I’m not far.” Your heart races at the suggestion, thoughts pouring every way. “I’ll either fuck you, let you cry on my expensive shirt, or you can sleep in my guest room. And I’ll jerk off thinking of you. Hmm, thinking of you crying.”

“Satoru! You’re so stupid.” You’re laughing though, and hear his breathy chuckle, you vividly imagine him right now. “Isn’t that gonna make this worse? I’m so upset and I’m a mess.”

“Just come over. Yeah? I’ll serenade you with how much I hate you, put you to sleep.”

You giggle, you fucking giggle, as you put the car in gear, knowing it’s a horrible idea, that it would make shit so much more complicated, that Suguru had said he loved you… but…

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Chapter 4

Ao3 chap

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/148138651

[eiightysixbaby]

afterglow

part 2 to cruel summer

tell me that i’m all you want, even when i break your heart

word count: 10.2k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you navigate the aftermath of your confession to eddie, but forgetting him is harder than you thought. it’s up to him to make things right.

cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. angst, use of y/n, eddie and reader being lovesick for each other, tooth rotting fluff, use of pet names, unprotected p in v, oral f receiving

author’s note: i am so, SO beyond excited to share this finally! thank y’all so much for the love on cruel summer, i hope you all enjoy part 2 just as much. this is inspired by afterglow by miss taylor swift, so go listen to that if you haven’t! okay smooches love u all hope u enjoy

part one

It had only been a few days since you confessed your love to Eddie and he left you without a word, but it felt like it had been years. Every minute crawling by, the hole in your heart seeming to grow rather than get any smaller. Your mind was ping-ponging back and forth between being furious with Eddie, and missing him and yearning for his touch. In all honesty, you mostly felt horrible for the way you yelled at him. Sure, he wasn’t being considerate of your feelings and he was being a bit of an asshole, but how was he supposed to know you loved him? You don’t even know if you knew you did until you were screaming it in his face. It’s not right what Eddie did, making you feel special and then turning around and flirting with other girls in front of you, but it’s not right for you to get mad at him for not being exclusive with you when the two of you were only supposed to be fuck buddies, and you weren’t supposed to have feelings for him. The guilt was eating away at you, and now that you’d gone and blindsided him with the confession of your feelings, you knew you couldn’t fix things. He clearly didn’t feel the same way, and he clearly didn’t want to rectify the situation at hand. But there were also moments where the guilt would subside and you were filled with pure rage, wanting to hurt him the way he’d hurt you. To say you were conflicted was an understatement.

In actuality, Eddie was doing no better than you were. He’d barely slept since the night he left your place, the bags under his eyes growing increasingly dark and his mood constantly agitated. You loved him. How could that be? Had he really been that fucking blind? Admittedly, Eddie’s never been great with the whole “feelings” thing. Screwing around with a different girl every week was fun for him because no deeper feelings were involved. It allowed him to get those brief dopamine rushes without the room to get attached to someone, just for them to end up leaving him when they really got to know him. But it was always different with you, from the moment the first line was blurred and you crossed into uncharted territory with each other, it was different. This had unnerved Eddie initially, the way everything felt softer with you, more intimate. He couldn’t let himself fall for you, and so he kept you at arm’s length - or tried to, anyways. He’d continue to flirt with other girls, to sleep with other girls in hopes that it would keep his mind off of you. He needed to keep himself in the routine of bouncing around so that his brain wasn’t hyper fixated on you. Your mutual agreement to have a little friends-with-benefits situation surely meant that you didn’t feel anything more for him, right? He couldn’t be the one that fell head over heels for you, just for you to leave him in the dust.

He should have fucking known you’d never do that to him. And now here he was, the asshole that hurt you probably beyond repair. All because he couldn’t work out his feelings, couldn’t face you in the event that you rejected him. He scoffs at himself, because look at how he handled things, leaving your apartment without so much as a word after you confessed your fucking love to him. Eddie groans, flopping face first into his pillows, letting out a long exasperated sigh. The moment you said you loved him he’d wanted to say it back without an ounce of hesitation, and honestly, that terrified him to his core. He’s never loved someone like that, it’s different than the love he holds for his friends or Wayne, or that old trailer park cat he’d befriended as a child . The love he felt for you was all-consuming in a new way, and it made him sick to his stomach with unease. He’s startled by a knock rattling the trailer, and he heaves himself off his bed with a huff. A frown is etched onto his face, his hair a wild mess as he opens the rickety door to the trailer. There on his front step is Nancy and Jonathan. Oh fuck.

•

“-And so, we just kind of want to know a little bit about what happened, on your end? She didn’t really give us a whole lot to go off of other than you flirting with the bartender…” Nancy winces as she says the last part, noticing the way Eddie visibly twitches at her words.

“I wasn’t flirting with the bartender,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool. “I didn’t want to start anything so I just… let her flirt with me. But I wasn’t interested! I just wanted one more drink,” he mumbles, his head throbbing with stress and lack of sleep.

Nancy and Jonathan had come over to your place the day after the incident with Eddie, gently trying to coax some information out of you. You’d revealed that the two of you had had a few drinks and some bar food, danced a little bit, and then hooked up in the bathroom - sparing them the gory details of course. Then you told them you caught him flirting with a couple women at the bar after you’d left him to talk to Chrissy briefly. You intentionally left out the part where you, you know, professed your undying love for him in the middle of the night standing in the doorway to your apartment. You didn’t need anyone knowing that you said those three big words when he didn’t even reciprocate them, the thought of telling your friends far too embarrassing.

Nancy, being Nancy, felt like there was something you weren’t telling her, or at least wanted to hear the story from Eddie’s perspective, hoping to get some more info so that she could better understand how to be there for you. She gave it a few days, knowing Eddie wouldn’t like to be cornered right after the incident, and that’s how her and Jonathan found themselves on the couch in his small living room currently.

Eddie was also in no way planning on telling them about how you’d told him you loved him, and he’d walked away like a big fucking idiot. Although his friends meant well, and wanted to help, he didn’t need any extra inquiring minds knowing about this. He needed to focus on figuring out how to fix things with you before anyone else found out that the big ‘L’ word was involved.

“Eddie, please just be honest with us-”

“I am being fucking honest!” Eddie snaps, catching his friends off guard. “I swear, on my fucking life, I was not flirting with those women at the bar. I just didn’t have the energy to start an argument or something,” the expression on Eddie’s face is growing desperate as he talks. “I should’ve just walked away, I know, but I didn’t. But I swear I was not flirting with them. For once, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”

Jonathan gives Nancy a look, and she nods in understanding.

“We believe you, Eddie. Thank you for explaining,” she says softly, trying to meet his eyes.

Eddie doesn’t look at her, can’t bring himself to when he’s hiding the worst part of this whole thing from her.

“Is there… anything else that you need to tell us?” Jonathan asks, careful so as not to sound accusatory.

“No. After she thought she caught me flirting, that must’ve been when she called you guys. There’s nothing else to say that she didn’t already tell you.” Eddie sighs, his voice defeated.

They could tell their presence was no longer wanted in Eddie’s home, and so they made their exit.

“Thanks for talking to us, Eddie. We’re here if you need anything,” Nancy says as she closes the door behind her.

Nancy originally intended on ripping Eddie a new one when he admitted to flirting with the bartender a few days ago, but now she knows that’s clearly not the truth. It was all a misunderstanding, at least this time around. But the hurt behind Eddie’s eyes, the pain in his voice has her thoughts jumbled. Something deeper has to be going on, she just doesn’t know what.

“So, do you think we should tell Y/N that him flirting with the ladies at the bar was a misunderstanding?” Jonathan asks, breaking the silence in the car.

“I feel like she deserves to know. Not that it’ll change anything necessarily, it doesn’t have to, but she deserves to be free of that pain at least,” Nancy nods as if assuring herself, before taking the car in the direction of your place.

The rapping at your door breaks you out of your daze as you sit on your sofa watching Friends reruns. You debate even answering it, before deciding that you can’t wallow all alone 24/7. You open your door to reveal Nancy and Jonathan, inviting them in but grimacing at the disastrous state of your living room. They don’t even pay any mind to it, Jonathan sitting on the arm of the couch as Nancy stands in front of you.

“So, we just talked to Eddie,” she says, her eyes searching yours.

You swallow, hard. Did he tell them what you said? Do they know you love him?

“Oh? W-what did he say?” you ask, your voice coming out more shaky than you would’ve liked.

“He told us that he was never flirting with the bartender and the other girl. Insisted on it, actually. He said he just wanted one more drink while he waited for you, and didn’t feel like starting anything by turning them down,” she says gently. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad for him or anything, I just figured you deserve to have that weight off of your shoulders.”

You stay silent for a moment, taking in what she’s saying. Clearly Eddie was convincing when he told her all of this, because Nancy wouldn’t believe just anything. He wasn’t flirting with them, it was all a misunderstanding. You flipped out on him for nothing.

“Thank you for telling me,” you say finally. “Did he say anything else?”

“No, his story was no different than yours otherwise.”

You nod, standing in silence because you can’t think of a damn thing to say.

“We’re gonna get going, but I just wanted to give you that update,” Nancy says, sensing the awkwardness.

You thank them again and hug them both before shutting the door behind them. You sink back into the soft cushions of your couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. The whole reason you’d even admitted to Eddie that you loved him was because you blew up on him, you couldn’t take it anymore, the image of the bartender all over him bringing you to your breaking point. It was all a misunderstanding, and you spilled your guts to him because of it. Things could still be the way they were if you’d never opened your damn mouth. Clearly, Eddie doesn’t love you back. He hasn’t reached out to you in three days. There’s no way you can go back on your words now, and you’re confident you ruined everything with the only guy you want. It should make you sick, still, the fact that he left you and couldn’t even give you a response. You should be furious with him, you should be cursing his name at the sky, but all you can do is feel guilty for putting him in jail for something he never did. You lay down, letting out a scream into one of your fluffy throw pillows. If you had any tears left to cry, they’d surely be flowing now, but instead you just lie there, zoning out completely. The only thing left to do was try and get over Eddie Munson.

•

Almost two whole weeks since he last saw you and Eddie had been wallowing pathetically the whole time, making little to no improvements since Nancy and Jonathan’s visit to his home. He shouldn’t have gotten so defensive with you when you accused him of flirting with the ladies at the bar - how could he blame you for thinking that? It’s not like he was particularly loyal to you or considerate of your feelings any other time. Basically, he was throwing himself a gigantic pity party, and Steve had decided he’d had enough of his friend’s antics.

He found out a little about what had happened through Robin, who found out through Nancy. Word travels fast in the friend group, needless to say. Steve came to Eddie’s trailer, for the third time that week, still finding him withering away in bed and looking like a kicked puppy. Steve, from what he understood of the situation, couldn’t figure out why Eddie was so distraught. You’d finally gotten tired of his sleeping around, and you’d kicked him to the curb. If anything, you deserved to be upset because you clearly had some deeper feelings for Eddie. Eddie on the other hand? He was the asshole, always, what right did he have to be upset now?

“Ed, seriously man, you’ve gotta cut this out. What good is it gonna do for you if you let yourself shrivel up and die in your bed?” Steve had tried to be gentle the first time he came to see Eddie, but by now he was frustrated.

Eddie just groans, grabbing his pillow and covering his face with it. Steve rolls his eyes, marching over to the bed and snatching the pillow from him, like a parent snatching an item from a child.

“You’ve gotta talk to me, dude. What is going on here? You acted like an ass to Y/N half the time, no offense, and now you’re upset? I just don’t buy it, man.”

Eddie scoffs and gets up, pushing past Steve and heading into the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. Steve follows directly behind him, hands on his hips as he corners Eddie in the kitchen. The older man glances over at his friend, acting completely disinterested as he fills his Garfield mug with the black liquid.

“You’re being impossible. I want to help you, and you won’t even talk to me. If you want to be depressed as shit forever, then fine! Be my guest,” Steve says, like it’s final, like he’s done trying.

Eddie knows him better than that. He pushes past Steve yet again, plopping himself down on the couch and taking an obnoxiously loud sip of his coffee. Steve’s fuming, watching in disbelief as Eddie goes along like he isn’t even there.

“You know, I can see why Y/N got sick of you.”

This gets a rise out of Eddie. He brings the mug away from his lips slowly, his breath catching in his throat.

“Yeah, I mean seriously, if you’re this stubborn all the time then it’s no wonder she got tired of you…” Steve goes on, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

Eddie grips his mug tightly, certain it’d shatter if he held it any harder. He grits his teeth, breathing hard out his nose.

“You just couldn’t keep it in your pants, had to flirt with that damn bartender…”

“I DIDNT. FLIRT. with the FUCKING. BARTENDER.” Eddie is seething now, about ready to jump across the room and grab Steve by the collar of his shirt. He’s at his breaking point now, letting everything spill out of him. “You wanna know what’s going on? You really have to know? She fucking loves me, man. She told me she loves me, okay? And - and - and… that fucking terrified me, okay? So I left her apartment. I didn’t say a word and I fucking left,” Eddie’s trembling now, the brunt of his anger giving way to sheer anguish.

Steve goes quiet, his eyes widening. He opens and closes his mouth, scrambling to find words.

“Eddie, you just left her?” Steve asks, really not trying to rub salt in the wound, but what the fuck.

“I really don’t need you to lecture me on how wrong that was-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just-” Steve pauses, looking at his disheveled friend where he sits on the couch. “Do you love her?”

Eddie is silent for a minute, his hands clasped together and brought up to his mouth, elbows resting on his knees.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do,” his voice is noticeably shaky, and for the first time since Steve got here, Eddie’s sad brown eyes meet his.

Steve comes to sit down next to Eddie, the couch cushions dipping with his weight.

“I think you need to tell her, man.”

“How? How do I even start? She thinks I ditched her at The Hideaway to flirt with other women, she probably thinks I fucking hate her considering I left without a word after she-”

Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, calming him down from the way his body has started to shake. Eddie looks at him, eyes glassy and confused.

“This is Y/N we’re talking about. I don’t think she could ever hate you. You need to tell her how you feel, Eddie.”

Eddie knows he’s right. Deep down, he knows. But facing you and admitting his feelings is the scariest part. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable, doesn’t like the way it feels to put himself so fully out there, and he honestly envies you for being able to spit the words at him so easily. Eddie has to tell you, he just needs to figure out how.

•

You stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, holding up different outfits as you debated which you liked the best. Robin and Nancy scrunched their noses at one particular dress you held up.

“Too many ruffles,” Nancy blurts.

“You’d look kind of like a babydoll…” Robin muses, tilting her head as she looks at the short blue garment.

You groan, throwing all the hangers of clothes onto your floor.

“Guys, I have to wear something tonight and we’ve gone through, like, half of my wardrobe!” you hold your hands out at your sides, your voice incredibly whiny as you plead with your friends.

“Okay, okay, let me take a look,” Nancy says, getting up and searching through your ransacked closet.

You were going on a date tonight. Nancy had eventually squeezed the confession out of you that you loved Eddie, but you still hadn’t informed her that you actually told him that and that he left. It had now been two weeks since you’d spoken to Eddie and she kept telling you you needed to actively try and forget him. Because, big surprise, sitting alone in your apartment all day eating pints of ice cream clearly wasn’t helping - much to your dismay. So she took it upon herself to help and set you up on a date with a friend of Jonathan’s.

According to his Instagram profile, he was cute, and he seemed like a nice guy based on everything Nancy told you. He went by Argyle, which, a little weird, but hey - you just told your fuck buddy you loved him and he walked out so… you’re not really in a position to judge anyone for anything.

“Ooh! What about this?” Nancy holds up a hanger with a tight black faux-leather skirt and another with a shimmery silver top.

“Nance - they’re going to get ice cream, not to a strip club,” Robin chides, laying on your bed and flipping through a magazine.

“Okay, fine, but I’m borrowing this skirt,” she says, meeting your eyes to get your approval.

You roll your eyes, scrutinizing one strand of hair that won’t do what you want it to do as Nancy continues looking through your clothes.

“Okay! I’ve got it. This is casual, but not so casual that it says you don’t care,” she eyes her selections as she waits for you and Robin to weigh in.

She’s holding a pair of light wash denim shorts, embroidered with little daisies, and a baby pink top with ruched sleeves.

Robin bites her lip excitedly, nodding eagerly at you.

“Not my taste, but totally, absolutely, one hundred perfect for you. Put it on, put it on!” she urges.

You laugh, obliging and changing into the clothes Nancy picked. She has a good eye, you had to admit. The outfit was perfect, cute and expressed that you’d put effort into your appearance, but not overdoing it. As you look at yourself in your mirror, you can’t help but picture Eddie’s face if he saw you in that outfit. His arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. Your fingers trail down to the hem of the shorts, toying with a loose string.

“Hey, earth to Y/N?” Robin waves her hand, snagging your attention. “You still with us? Argyle’s definitely gonna need you alive for the date tonight,” she says lightheartedly, giving you a lopsided smile.

Your lips had fallen into an involuntary frown, and of course the girls catch it immediately.

“Don’t think about him, hun,” Nancy places a hand on your arm, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Argyle’s a great guy, and you’re gonna have fun tonight!”

“Yeah, no you’re right. I’m sorry. I want to give him a chance, I’m excited,” you smile, trying your best to shove the curly brunette metal head out of your mind.

It’s not that you weren’t excited for the date, you really were. Maybe a change of scenery and a new person were exactly the things you needed. But you still felt horrible about setting everything on fire with Eddie, leaving you to sift through the ashes now that the damage was done. And you still love him. The thought wafts through your mind like a bad stench through your nose, and you shake your head as if to rid your brain of it. Screw Eddie, you try and tell yourself. Who needs him anyway?

Just as Nancy finishes applying a healthy amount of makeup to your face, there’s a knock at your door. Like an absolute gentleman, Argyle arrives right on time. You feel wings erupt in your stomach, birds taking flight as your nerves kick in.

Robin notices you go rigid in her gaze.

“You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna have a great time, you got this, kid,” she beams at you, giving you an affirming nod.

You try your best to give a confident smile back, nodding once in confirmation that you do, in fact, have this. The girls shuffle you out of your room and towards the door, practically shoving you to go answer it. Your straighten yourself, taking one last deep breath before swinging the door open.

“Well, good evening, ladies,” Argyle says, flashing his shiny white teeth as he smiles at you and your friends who stand modestly behind you.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Argyle, it’s so nice to meet you,” he keeps the smile on his face, reaching a hand out to shake yours.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” you smile back, taking his hand firmly as you shake it.

“Mind if I steal her away, girls?” he jokes, directing the question at Robin and Nancy.

“Nope! Not at allllllll,” Robin draws out the last syllable, giving you a flirtatious wave.

“She’s all yours! Have fun you two,” Nancy smiles.

They give you a thumbs up when you take one last glance over your shoulder, Argyle leading the way out the door. And so it begins.

•

Tonight is the night. Tonight is the night Eddie is going to fix shit with you, or at least give an honest attempt. The thought of going through with his plan made him want to genuinely hurl, but he swallowed the bile that rose to his throat and was determined to right this wrong. After letting the truth spill to Steve, the only thing consuming his thoughts has been telling you about how he feels. The entirety of the past night was spent tossing and turning in his bed, fleeting dreams of you rejecting him flashing through his subconscious. His plan, as it currently stands, is as follows: he’s going to swing by the flower shop to get you a beautiful bouquet, and then head over to the local ice cream place to get you your favorite milkshake. Then he plans to show up at your door with his offerings, and apologize profusely. Like, he’s talking begging-on-his-knees, praying to the gods above, apologize. He stomach lurches as he mentally walks through the plan again, getting himself looking presentable for the evening ahead. He knows very, very well that there’s a huge chance this doesn’t go well for him. He knows you might just go ahead and rip the damn milkshake out of his clammy palms and throw it right back in his face, or maybe even throw a punch or two - hell, he deserves it. He’s not asking for forgiveness, he’s not asking for you to welcome him back in with open arms. He just knows that he won’t be able to rest well until he’s told you the truth, he has to apologize and be honest with you, whether you accept him back in or not.

Eddie gives himself a once, twice, three times over in the mirror, although his current attire isn’t much different from his usual. He’s still in his ripped black jeans, his surprisingly white Reeboks, and all of his chains and rings. Instead, though, he’s traded his usual band tee or denim vest with a black button-down shirt. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his nerves. He’d already smoked, hoping the high would ease his worries, to no avail. He’s not used to being nervous like this, not used to second-guessing his appearance or feeling his palms grow sweaty. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him, he’s used to one-night stands with no big feelings attached, he’s used to being balls deep inside someone and then never speaking a word to them again. He loves you. The thought plays over and over in his mind. He grabs his phone and his wallet and his keys before heading out the door, shuffling into his car and heading out on his mission.

•

The drive to the ice cream place wasn’t nearly as awkward as you thought it’d be, finding a lot to talk about with Argyle. He’s friendly and outgoing, never forcing a conversation but also never leaving room for the silences to be awkward. You don’t feel like you have to act a certain way to impress him, he’s just happy to be with you. It’s refreshing, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find your mind wandering elsewhere. It was already proving hard to keep Eddie out of your thoughts - Argyle would make a reference to something Eddie liked, the air freshener in Argyle’s car is the same one as in Eddie’s, so on and so forth. It’s like your brain was purposely torturing you, distracting you from having a good time. Eddie probably wasn’t thinking about you, so why did you have to be plagued with near constant thoughts of him?

“Hey, are you okay?” Argyle’s smooth voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out. I’m fine,” you give him a reassuring smile, and he looks at you for only a moment before seeming to accept your response.

“Well, anyway, I’ve never had the ice cream here but Jonathan said it’s the best. You’ll have to give me some recommendations,” he grins as he pulls his car into the parking lot, one hand on the wheel as the other taps on the crevice of the open window.

“Will do,” you smile. “Though I have to warn you, I always get the same damn thing,” you laugh, and he laughs along with you.

You both step out of the car, the sweet scent of waffle cones and vanilla milkshakes filling your nose. Argyle opens the door and a bell chimes, signaling your entrance as he holds the door for you. The air conditioning is on full blast, hitting your skin and making goosebumps prick up. You cross your arms instinctively, rubbing the skin for some warmth as you eye the menu, even though you never stray from your tried and true favorite. Argyle notices your slight shivering, immediately slipping his hoodie off and holding it out to you.

You start to decline politely before he waves you off.

“You’re only gonna get colder once you start eating your ice cream. I insist, take it,” you blush a little as you take the jacket, slipping it over your shoulders and leaving the zipper undone.

It’s big on you, Argyle having a height advantage, so you bunch up the sleeves. Instantly, your brain goes to a memory of you at an ice skating rink with Eddie and the rest of the group. You’d forgotten your jacket at home, and Eddie had offered you his within milliseconds of you starting to shiver. It was one of few times where Eddie made any sort of affection towards you known to others, rather than keeping it a raunchy secret, and you’d felt on top of the world parading around in his sweatshirt. Of course, that night had ended no differently than the others, Eddie fucking you into his mattress and taking you home afterwards, leaving you feeling empty.

You try to replace the thoughts of Eddie with thoughts of your current date, try to convince yourself that wearing Argyle’s hoodie feels just as good as wearing Eddie’s, but it doesn’t, and you can’t. You put as much focus as you can onto what Argyle’s saying, put on a happy face as you give him your flavor recommendations, but a man that’s not here is tugging at your heart strings all the while. You order at the counter, your usual birthday cake milkshake, letting Argyle decide a moment longer. You actually wince when he orders two scoops of butterscotch ice cream, the exact same thing Eddie would order the few times you’d come here with all of your friends. You feel like the world is playing a sick joke on you, refusing to let you let go of Eddie. You feel like you’re not even in your body when you grab a hold of the cold cup that your frozen dessert is in, only coming back to reality when Argyle asks where you want to sit.

You choose a booth by the window, the electric glow of the ‘Open’ sign flickering onto the table through the glass pane. Argyle takes a bite of his ice cream, and you give him your best effort in conversation.

“Well, what do you think?” you smile at him, forcing it a little too much maybe.

“I think I could drop dead right now this is so good,” he smiles right back, licking his spoon clean of another mouthful. “How’s yours?”

“Even better considering I didn’t have to pay for it,” you take a sip of your shake to punctuate your sentence. “Thank you, again.”

“Don’t have to thank me, I’m more than happy to pay for a girl as pretty as you,” he gives you another little grin, nothing but kindness behind his eyes.

You smile back, but you’re cursing inside your head. You have a sweet guy sitting in front of you, genuinely trying to get to know you and have a nice date, and you can’t stop thinking about someone else. There’s nothing wrong with Argyle, and you’re trying your very best to will yourself to fall in love with him or something when the door chime breaks you from your thoughts.

You look up at the door instinctively, and you almost choke on your ice cream at what you see. Eddie walks in through the door, looking gorgeous as ever, because of fucking course this would happen right now. You go rigid when he looks your direction and meets your eyes, and your face is instantly flushed with heat. You suddenly feel suffocated in Argyle’s hoodie, your stomach churning as you stare into those all-too-familiar brown eyes. You manage to tear your gaze away before he does, not wanting Argyle to get suspicious and try to discover what you’re staring at. You give yourself a mental kick, refusing to allow yourself to crumble in Eddie’s presence. Don’t let him see you sad, show him you’re fine without him. You reach across the table and brush your fingers on Argyle’s arm, laughing maybe a little too loud at something he says. You feel bad using him as revenge in this moment, but lucky for you, you don’t have to do it for very long. Eddie doesn’t order a thing, just turns on his heel and leaves.

Eddie feels like he can’t breathe when he gets back into his car, sitting in the parking lot with his heart threatening to shatter beneath his ribcage. You’re on a date. He was going to try and fix things, going to tell you he loves you, and you’re on a date. Of course he noticed the garment keeping you warm, far too big to be your jacket. You’re wearing this other guy’s jacket, so the date must be going well. He feels the bile rise in his throat at the thought of you in another guy’s clothes, the thought of another guy taking you home and kissing you and holding you and treating you the way you deserved - the way he never treated you. The worst part of it all is that Eddie knows he deserves this. He doesn’t deserve to get the happy ending, he burned this whole thing to the ground and he’s left searching for remnants of life in the wake of the fire. He pulls out of the parking lot, no destination in mind anymore. The flowers he got for you sit mockingly in his passenger seat, their sweet scent filling his nose as if to laugh at him. What the fuck does he do now?

•

After seeing Eddie at the ice cream place, you couldn’t get your head back on straight. You ended up telling Argyle you had a killer of a headache, and without hesitation he brought you home. Guilt tugged at your feet as you trudged up your stairs with him, tugged at your heart when he asked if there was anything he could do for you before he left. The poor, sweet guy didn’t even question it, showed no indication of him doubting your excuse. You knew you’d get an earful from Robin and Nance if they got wind of this. You’d promised Argyle you’d be okay and told him he was fine to leave, thanking him for the lovely date. You hated yourself for the way you couldn’t like him, the way every inch of your body and mind was stuck on Eddie. Nothing about Argyle was bad, and you lay cursing yourself on your mattress in your room. You eventually decide to change into something more comfortable, shed any tangible reminders of the date you ended too soon. You crawl under your covers in sweatpants and your coziest sweatshirt, pulling the blankets up to your face as frustrated tears burn your cheeks. Anger bubbles up inside of you, and takes over any other emotion you’d been feeling.

You’re angry that you can’t stop thinking about Eddie. Angry that you had to see Eddie tonight. Angry that you went on a date with a very nice guy and couldn’t get into it because of Eddie. Angry that Eddie left without a word when you told him you loved him. Angry that you let him treat you so poorly because you just can’t get enough of him. Cotton sweater sleeves are soaked with tears as you let the feeling flow from you, balling your hands up into fists and releasing them. Entirely unsure of what to do next, or how to get over this.

•

Eddie went home for all of an hour before realizing he couldn’t just sit around in silence and do nothing. Not now that he’d already had his plan literally in motion, he couldn’t stop. Even if you didn’t love him anymore, even if you wanted nothing to do with him, even if you wanted to throw the flowers back in his face and throw a punch or two, he had to open up to you. He gets in his car, hands shaking and stomach in knots as he prepares himself. For all he knows, your date could be back at your place with you. Or maybe you aren’t even home yet. But he has to try, has to get his feelings out in the open, at least so you know - even if you don’t want to be with him. It feels like every stoplight on his drive is mocking him, glowing red for seemingly agonizing amounts of time. The more time he has to think, the more sick to his stomach he feels. When he finally arrives in the parking lot of your place, he just sits for a moment. Taking shaky breaths, his stomach somersaults in anxious anticipation. One ringed hand reaches out for the beautiful bouquet of flowers beside him, picking them up by the crinkly paper they’re encased in before he opens his car door and shuts off the engine. Every stomp of his shoes on the stairs makes his heart pound faster, coming closer and closer to a confession bigger than any he’s ever given before. He stands in front of your door, begging silently for you to simply answer, and finally, he raises a fist to the wood to alert you.

The knocking startles you out of your slew of emotions, and you groan as you heave yourself out of bed. You’re fully expecting it to be Nancy or Robin at the door, or both of them, ready to interrogate you on why you cut your date short. You swing the door wide, mouth open and fully ready to defend yourself to the girls. Instead, you’re met with that curly frizzy hair and those round brown eyes that you know too well. Eddie stands like a deer in headlights, as if he wasn’t the one who knocked on your door, holding a massive bouquet of flowers in one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, a no-fucking-way-are-you-here-right-now laugh. You go to slam the door right in his stupid beautiful face when he holds an arm out, wrenching it open.

“Wait. Please,” his voice chokes up as he says it.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Eddie? Saw me on a date with someone else and had to come assert your dominance or something?” you scoff, crossing your arms as if to protect yourself from more emotional hurt.

“No, I…. is your date still here?”

“What if he is, Eddie? Can’t wrap your head around the fact that another guy wanted to go out with me?” you snap.

“No no, I just… I don’t wanna do this if he’s here,” his voice is desperate, rushing to get the words out.

“He’s not here. And do what, exactly? String me along again just to leave me stranded in the end?” the words hurt you as you say them, a part of your heart wanting to just run to him and never let him go, and the other part wanting to run from him.

“I need to tell you how sorry I am. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I was an asshole, a horrible person to you, and you never deserved it,” his eyes flicker down to his feet before tentatively meeting yours again.

“Oh, my knight in shining armor, arriving at my door to apologize and I’m supposed to just fall at your feet, huh?” you shift your weight, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No! No, I don’t expect anything from you. But I can’t run from my feelings anymore.”

“Feelings?” you furrow your brows, your chest tightening.

Eddie is silent for a moment, fingers nervously fidgeting with the paper surrounding the bright green stems and vibrant petals. You roll your eyes, about to shut the door once again when he speaks up.

“I love you!” he blurts, his eyes frantic as they search yours.

“What?”

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ve known you were special since I met you, you’re different than anyone else I’ve ever met. I was too much of a fucking coward to tell you how much I liked you earlier because… because I was scared of getting hurt. And all I did was hurt you in the process, and I’m so sorry.”

You’re dumbfounded, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle for words.

“You didn’t say a word to me, Eddie,” your voice comes out quiet, pained. “You left without a single fucking word,” you hiss.

“I know I did. And it was the worst mistake of my entire life. I panicked, I didn’t know what to do - and that’s not an excuse - but I’m so, so sorry.”

You can see the hurt in his eyes, the fear encompassing espresso brown. He’s not joking around, he’s not playing with you this time.

“And you don’t have to say anything else. If you don’t love me anymore, if you don’t want to be with me or see me ever again, I get it. Say the word and I will walk away and never show my face to you again. I was a jerk, and I don’t deserve you. But I swear to you, I will never - never - hurt you again if you let me stay. I’m sorry it took me so long to say how I feel,” Eddie’s voice is breaking, and you can tell how much effort it’s taking him to keep himself together.

You snap, then. Your love for Eddie that you’ve been trying to shove down for weeks, finally claws it’s way out. No more forcing it back. No more hiding. Your feet are moving before you can process it. You throw yourself at him, taking the flowers and tossing them to the floor, wrapping your arms around him and feeling him hold you.

“I hate you so fucking much, Eddie Munson,” you smile through your wobbly voice, a new kind of tears springing in your eyes.

And Eddie laughs, his eyes also watery, because he knows you don’t mean it.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too.”

“Be mine forever, please,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips ghost over yours.

“It would be the honor of a lifetime,” you say.

He presses his forehead to yours, letting you lead when you lean in to kiss him. It feels like fireworks go off above your heads, your lips colliding in a way that finally won’t lead to a quick fuck on someone else’s mattress. No, this time you kiss him and it feels real. You feel secure, no longer worrying that the floor will fall out beneath your feet. His hands hold your face, thumbs brushing soft strokes along the apples of your cheeks. You cling to him like he’s your lifeline, kissing him like you never have before. Pouring your love into him, filling his cup because he’s finally allowing you to.

“Wait,” you say suddenly, pulling back. Eddie’s stomach drops, worried you’ve changed your mind. “I owe you an apology too,” you say.

He gives you a questioning look.

“I know you weren’t flirting with those women at The Hideaway the night we went out… Nancy told me it was a misunderstanding… and it was wrong of me to accuse you.”

“Sweetheart… you had every right to assume. I wasn’t exactly the kindest to you…” Eddie frowns.

“Even so, you weren’t flirting and you still deserve some grace. I’m sorry, Eddie. I blew this whole thing up in your face over something you didn’t actually do,” your voice is remorseful, and Eddie tilts your chin up with his index finger.

“I forgive you, always. I was never upset with you for that,” he promises, and his heart aches. The sweetest thing standing before him, apologizing when there was no need to.

You kiss him again, pulling him with you as you shuffle backwards into your apartment. He kicks the door shut, holding you to his chest as he stands against it. Your fingers clutch the collar of his shirt, mouth moving against his with fervor, like this is your last chance to kiss him. Eddie gasps in surprise when you tug him even closer to you, his large palms spanning across your back and holding you snug to his body. Tongues find their way into each other’s mouths, soft like velvet as they lick and explore. You find yourself grinding your hips into his, your body desperate to have him in a way like never before.

“Sweetheart, sweets,” Eddie pushes out between kisses, finally holding you back from attacking his mouth once more. “This doesn’t have to go any further… if you don’t want it to. I don’t want you to think that’s the reason I’m here,” Eddie says, and his tone is suddenly sad. You know the guilt is still eating at him, and will probably continue to eat at him no matter how much you reassure him going forward.

“I don’t think that’s why you’re here,” you reply, cupping a hand to the side of his face and looking intensely into his eyes, reassuring him. “But I’d be a dirty fucking liar if I said I haven’t missed your cock lately,” your voice drops lower, leaning up to his ear to murmur the words into it.

Your breath tickles his neck and he shudders, his cock stiffening in his jeans.

“Shit, baby,” he breathes, diving back down to your mouth for another heated kiss.

You lead him to your bedroom, somehow managing to make it safely despite the fact that your lips might as well be velcro’d to each other. Your hands roam his body like it’s the first time, butterflies fluttering madly in your stomach. Eddie’s hands are gentle on you, touching you in a new way. Nothing is rushed or hasty, instead Eddie takes his time as his hands find their way up your sweatshirt. You shiver when his fingertips graze your hips and start to glide up your back, his mouth devouring yours all the while. He groans into your mouth when you reach a hand down to palm him through the denim of his pants, making you pull back to smirk at him.

“Getting worked up for me, Munson?” you tease, silently reveling in the way he’s letting himself be more receptive to you.

“You have no idea, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, his hands steady as he holds you.

You smile, leaning back in to kiss him with a clash of teeth. Eddie pushes you backwards gently, taking slight control as he encourages you down onto your bed. You lie back on your mattress, spreading your legs open for him to slot himself between. He climbs on top of you, hovering over you, dark curls falling in your face and tickling your skin. Your phone rings then, breaking you both out of the moment. The screen lights up with Nancy’s name, and you can’t help but laugh. Texts from Robin pop up right after, and Eddie raises a brow at you.

“I’ll debrief them later,” you smirk at him, shoving your phone away and holding his face in your hands.

“I’m so incredibly in love with you,” he says, his eyes pools of melted chocolate, sickeningly sweet with adoration as he gazes at you.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” you breathe out a little laugh, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone… never thought I’d let myself,” Eddie frowns slightly, relaxing when you grip his face in your hands.

“Thank you for letting me be the first,” you give him a soft smile, eyes lighting up when he blushes.

You pull his mouth back to yours, needy hands grabbing at the buttons on his shirt in a hint for him to remove it. He obliges instantly, unbuttoning it and sipping it off before being discarded onto your floor. You take a moment just to look at him, your eyes raking over his shirtless form. During your past hookups you never felt like you had the time to admire him, half the time you were too embarrassed to even try, for fear that he’d mock you for it. Now it’s different. You let your eyes and hands wander up and down pale skin, tracing the ink lines etched into various places. You can feel him growing harder in his pants when your fingers ghost over his crotch, smiling into the kiss when Eddie lets out a heavy breath.

“Need to get some of these clothes off you, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your mouth, pawing at the hem of your thick sweatshirt.

You help him pull it off of you, exposing your tits which lay perfectly on your chest, nipples perking up from the chill of your air conditioning. It’s his turn to admire you now, his hands cupping the soft skin of your breasts as he looks at you like you’re the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

“You’re s’fuckin perfect,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck. “‘M so lucky,” a kiss to your collarbone, “the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips trail down to your tits before he wraps them around one of your peaked nipples.

His tongue kitten licks the sensitive little bundle, getting you breathless as his mouth switches over to the other one. One hand finds its way beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers curling over your mound still concealed by the thin fabric of your panties. There’s a wet patch already forming there, and you know he can feel it. Your cheeks flush when his fingers circle the wetness and he gasps a little, giving you a devilish smirk.

“Oh? What’s this?” he teases, leaning down to kiss your lips and then trailing his mouth to your jawline.

“Need you,” you whine, too desperate for him to retaliate against his taunting.

“You have me, sweet girl. For as long as you want me,” he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, leaning down once more to kiss you all over.

His lips move over the swell of your breasts, down to your bellybutton, finally stopping right above the fabric of your sweatpants. Big brown doe eyes look up at you, waiting for permission. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding at him as you feel yourself tremble slightly with anticipation. He hooks his fingers into the cozy fabric, tugging the pants down your legs before tossing them to the floor. His mouth kisses over your underwear, tongue pressing flat against your folds, causing you to moan at the heat you feel at your core.

“Ed-dieeeeee,” you choke out between a gasp, reaching a hand down in an attempt to take your panties off.

“So impatient, aren’t we?” he purrs, admiring the wet spot he contributed to on your underwear before pulling them off and letting them mingle with the rest of your discarded garments.

He buries his face in your cunt almost instantly, his plush lips so soft against your folds as he presses kisses to them. He tongue is gentle when it first licks a stripe up through your wetness, and you hiss at the contact. You missed his mouth on you, missed his hands roaming your body. It feels so good to know he’s not going anywhere this time. Eddie wastes no time getting to work, his tongue dipping inside of you before playing with your clit, shaggy curls tickling your inner thighs as his head moves. His name falls from your lips like a mantra as he devours you, licking and sucking on you like you’re his last meal. He ruts his hips down into your mattress, erection straining in his jeans. You notice the movement and halt him immediately, almost losing your breath when he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, chin glistening with your slick.

“Why don’t you take those jeans off, handsome?” you encourage, reaching down to run a hand through his wild hair.

His fingers undo his belt buckle with ease, it’s the handcuff one that you always struggled to maneuver. Black denim joins the pile on your floor, and you notice the tented fabric of his boxers instantly.

“Poor baby,” you coo, “look how worked up you are for me,” your gentle fingers stroke his shaft through the fabric, earning a deep groan from him.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he rasps, and you can tell how desperate he is for more contact.

“Why don’t you fuck me, then?” you ask, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice, shoving his boxers down his legs and off entirely. His cock springs free, and he’s harder than you think you’ve ever seen him. You can see the veins protruding from the shaft, the head a flustered red with pearlescent pre-cum just starting to drip out. A patch of dark curls rests at the base of his cock, enticing you, his heavy balls hanging low beneath. You nearly whimper at the sight, and he watches you as you take in every inch of him. He’s always loved the way you love his cock, though it’s never felt quite like it does now. He knows he’s presenting himself to you in a new way, and you’re admiring him in a new way. All he wants now is to bury himself inside you, feeling every single inch of your tight pussy as it swallows him whole.

“You ready for me, baby?” he questions, leaning down and hovering mere centimeters from your lips.

“Mhm, please,” you whine, keening up to press your lips to his in quick kisses, a tiny string of saliva connecting the two of you.

One of Eddie’s hands grabs the base of his cock, rubbing it up and down through your wet folds. You arch your back instinctively, gasping at the sensation. Eddie chuckles, low and deep, pressing kisses to your jawline and traveling down to your neck. Without much warning he slips his cock into you, the head stretching you as it paves the way for the rest of him. You let out a pornographic moan, holding nothing back from him this time around. You want him to know how good he makes you feel, how he sets every inch of you on fire in the most remarkable way. He continues to stretch you open for him, groaning at how easily you’re taking him.

“Shit, sweet girl, you’re just suckin’ me right in,” Eddie praises, his forehead dropping to rest on top of yours.

You can’t form words in response, the air being punched from your lungs when he sinks the last inch of him in. You’re so incredibly full of him, you swear you can feel him in every inch of your body. Your hands wrap around his back, clinging to the backs of his shoulders, hooking yourself to him. You want him closer than ever, need him all to yourself, and the way he brushes his nose against yours lets you know that he’s not going anywhere. He starts to slowly move, hips rocking as he thrusts gently. Even with his subtle movements, the sounds coming from your cunt are obscene, and all he can do is curse under his breath. You whimper beneath him, clinging ever tighter to his soft skin.

“What is it, baby?” he asks, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“A little harder, Eddie, please?” you ask, round eyes looking up at him.

“Okay, sweetheart. But I don’t wanna just fuck you tonight,” he says, pausing to kiss you. “I wanna make love to you, the way I should’ve been for months now,” he admits, his cheeks flushing pink at his vulnerability.

“I love you so fucking much,” you whisper against his lips, “make love to me then, Eddie.”

And that he does. He gives it to you a little harder, knowing it’ll drive you crazy if he keeps his movements too slow. But his strokes aren’t rushed, he’s not in a race to cum, he’s just taking his time with you. He rolls his hips into you, dragging out each thrust and letting you feel every vein and ridge in his cock as he stretches you. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, hair sprawled across your pillow, eyes glassy as you grow dumb on his thick length. Your lips brush, oftentimes frozen slack-jawed as you moan into each others’ mouths. Eddie devours every sweet sound you make for him, pinching his eyes shut as he picks up his pace a little. His balls slap against you as he delivers each thrust, filling you to the brim before pulling back out. His movements are sensual, his hands kneading your breasts or gripping your hips as he fucks into you. He kisses all over your face, unspoken ‘I love yous’ communicated by the affection.

You’re filled with so many emotions as you let him unravel you, your eyes welling up with tears. Having Eddie to yourself feels better than you could’ve imagined, every single snap of his hips into yours reminding you that this time, everything is different. He’s soaking you in like you’re uncharted territory waiting to be discovered, caressing every curve and dip of your body. You babble nonsense beneath him, his name falling from your lips over and over. Your lips are wobbly, eyes watery as you’re overwhelmed with adoration for him. Eddie’s quick to kiss your tears away, whispering his affections for you between each press of his soft lips.

“My favorite girl,” he mumbles into your skin.

The sentiment he’d given you so many times before, the one you always hoped he meant, always pining to be his most important girl. It sounds sweeter coming out of his mouth now, no doubt in your mind that he’s speaking the truth.

“‘M so close, Eddie,” you pant. “Gonna cum. Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” your eyes roll back in your head as Eddie keeps a steady pace.

The tip of his cock hits just where you need it to, setting your insides ablaze. Eddie’s close, too, you can tell in the way his breathing has grown staggered.

“I’m gonna cum too, baby. Want it inside?”

“Yes,” you cry out, “please.”

Eddie rocks into you a few more times before you’re cumming around him, walls gripping him so tight, fluttering against his cock and giving him the friction he so desperately needs. You’ve got a death grip on him as he spills his load inside of you, his hips slowing as every drop fills you. He finally stills once every drop has left him, taking heavy breaths as he grounds himself. Your tits are pressed against his chest, feeling him so impossibly close to you, sweat coating your skin as well as his.

Chocolate brown eyes meet yours as you come out of your euphoric haze, Eddie giving you a lovesick grin. You giggle as you smile back at him, still catching your breath.

“That was amazing. You’re amazing,” Eddie says, letting out an airy little laugh.

“Feels so good to love you,” you reply, making him blush yet again.

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince slightly. He goes into your bathroom without a word, grabbing a clean towel and getting it slightly damp with warm water. He returns to clean you up, wiping your sensitive skin oh so gently, leaving kisses on your inner thighs in the towel’s wake. You sigh contentedly, curling up under your blankets while Eddie goes to clean himself up. He makes himself comfortable in bed beside you once he returns, silently staring at you once more with those gorgeous eyes, saying so much without even opening his mouth. He pulls you closer to him, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For everything.”

You don’t say anything in response, words aren’t necessary to convey how you feel. The way you curl closer into him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing, says everything Eddie needs to hear. You fall asleep not long after, the sound of Eddie’s breathing and the feeling of his strong arms around you soothing you into a slumber.

The next morning you wake to sunlight peeking through your curtains, casting a soft orange glow on your entire room. You rub your eyes, letting them focus as you look around your room. Your gaze lands on the discarded clothes on your floor before trailing upwards, over the sleeping form beside you concealed by your comforter, until it finally lands on Eddie’s face snuggled into your pillow. Frizzy curls sprawled over the pillowcase, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he continues to sleep peacefully. You smile to yourself, your heart thumping in your chest as you hear him snoring softly. After the mess of the last couple of months, your aching heart and puffy eyes over the last couple weeks, the dust is finally settling. Everything was set on fire, and you’re realizing now that flames don’t always leave decay and destruction in their wake. Sometimes, they pave the way for new growth, blossoming beginnings. You and Eddie lie here together now, as the smoke leaves the air and the sun rises, bathed in the afterglow.

taglist: @paleidiot @ali-r3n @edsmunsonsgirl @edsforehead @bambi-horror @emma77645 @sidthedollface2 @figmentofquinn @girlwiththerubyslippers @myblindthirdeye-blog @aysheashea @suppeople @peaches-roses-sins @hideoutside @nope-thanks @squidscottjeans @hellfire--cult @chrissymjstan @hargrovesswifee @alissabckr @munsonzgf @a1ex-ba1ex @parmawiolets @zaddyskye69 @siriuslysmoking

[ashwhowrites]

Hello, I'm so glad that your requests are open. Could you do steve harrington x reader, where in high school the reader was a nerd but they fall in love. But prom was coming up and he ditches the reader so he could win prom king, which he regrets.

some angst to fluff pls!!! happy ending

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 very hard to give this a happy ending so I did my best

Prom King

Steve Harrington was the face of Hawkins High School. He was the guy every guy wanted to be and the guy every girl wanted to be with. He had a huge selection of girls to pick from. He always pictured himself with another popular girl on his arm, adding to his popularity. Someone he could win the prom king with, someone who made sense.

But that didn't happen. He fell in love, fucking hard, with the quiet nerd in his English class. She was the first girl to make him forget how to speak. The first time he ever made eye contact with her, he tripped over his feet and landed flat on his face. No one dared to laugh since he was the king, but she helped him stand back up.

He swore when her hand touched him a whole lightning bolt lit him up where he stood.

Months later, they were together. A couple that no one expected and no one knew how it worked. But Y/N had something special he never had seen in any other girl before. They've been together for months, meeting at the start of the year and now it was near May.

Prom was coming around the corner, just a few weeks away. Y/N was growing a bit nervous that Steve hadn't talked about prom at all. They were together, so that meant they would go together, right? She watched daily as girls screamed and cried as their boyfriends asked them to prom. She wondered when it would be her turn. She knew it wouldn't be in a public place, Steve had been shying away. They barely interacted at school recently, but she had all of him once they were behind closed doors. Of course, blinded by love, she didn't see that as a warning.

~

Prom was in a week and Steve had avoided every conversation about it. It was clear to her that something was holding him back from asking, and she was sure the answer was going to damage their relationship.

"Alright, Steve. We need to talk about prom. And we are talking about it now." She demanded as she took a seat next to him on his couch.

Steve felt sweat on his eyebrow. He had been scared of this conversation.

"Why won't you ask me to prom?" It was clear to hear how sad she was and Steve felt horrible.

"It's just...I don't want to go to prom," he lied through his teeth and hoped she bought it.

"Oh, like with me?" she asked, he frowned as her eyes began to water.

"Not like that, baby. Just prom in general. I was never a fan of school dances." Steve shrugged, he watched as she started to believe him.

"Well I mean if it's not something you like, I guess I have to understand that." She sighed, very disappointed. "What if we do something else? Like, have a movie night at my house?"

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he said, smiling as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

~~~

It was the night of prom, and Y/N was setting up snacks for movie night. She felt sad as she helped her friends get ready, but she was okay to give it up for Steve.

She set up the movie and looked at the clock, Steve was running a few minutes late. She walked to the phone as it began to ring,

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby. I'm not feeling so hot. I think I might rest at home. I'm sorry, but maybe we can do a raincheck?" Steve's tired voice filled her ears.

"Oh no! I can come over and bring you some soup and juice," she said, already planning to run to the store as she grabbed her keys.

"I don't want to get you sick. I'll be fine, baby. I love you,"

Then he hung up. She couldn't lie she felt blown off by him. It was weird for him to be pushing her away. He never missed movie night and never had issues with her helping him when he was sick. She found it very strange but pushed it off.

She didn't want to spend the night alone, so she raced to her bedroom. Her dress waiting to be worn in her closet as she yanked it off the hanger. She felt a little sad when she gave up prom for Steve, but she smiled at the thought of going with her friends.

She got ready as fast as she could and went to the school. Excitement in her stomach as she walked into the gymnasium. The lights and the sound of the loud music mixing with people laughing made her happy. She wished Steve could have been here but her friends would make it memorable.

She reached her friends with an excited scream, her arms wrapped around them as they cheered for her arrival. She gave a twirl in her dress, her friends gushing over how perfect she looked. They were lost in conversation when the teacher on stage called for an announcement.

"It is now time we declare the winners for prom king and queen!"

The students quieted down, their attention to the stage as the teacher tore open the envelope. The students smacked their thighs as a drumroll.

"Your Prom king is..Steve Harrington!" The crowd cheered and clapped. Y/N felt proud of him, and sad that he wasn't here to accept it. As his girlfriend, she felt like it was her place to accept it for him.

She pushed gently through the crowd, keeping her eyes on the floor to make sure she didn't step on anyone's shoes. She reached the front, and looked up.

She froze when she saw Steve walk onto the stage, a big smile on his face and no sickness in his eyes. He looked smug and cocky as he bent down for the crown to be placed on his head. He wore a perfect suit, his hair gelled down and brand new shoes. He didn't just throw this together, he was already prepared.

The realization that he lied made Y/N feel sick.

Steve looked out into the crowd, smiling at all the students who clapped and cheered for him. And then his eyes fell on her and his face went pale.

She shook her head and turned out, pushing through the crowd of students as fast as she could. Steve was quick to jump off the stage and follow after her.

Once she felt the cold hair hit her face, the tears began to fall. She opened her small bag and began to dig for her keys.

"Y/N!" Steve said, panting as he busted through the doors. He was relieved she was still there. He reached forward and grabbed her elbow but she yanked it away.

"Don't, Steve," she hissed, turning around as she glared at him. "What the fuck was that?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Steve apologized.

"Really? Because I don't think you give a single shit about me to mean an apology." She scoffed

"I do! I just..I-I" he stuttered, he didn't know what to say and he knew every second he waited, more damage was done.

"Just tell me why!" She exclaimed, shoving him as hard as she could. He stumbled back, his crown slightly moving on his head as he gained balance. "And no bullshit lies. Tell me the truth."

Steve sighed, regret-filled in his bones. "My friends told me I wouldn't win the prom king if I was with you. I didn't want to break up because I love you! I swear I do. I-I was an idiot and told them we broke up. I kept my distance from you in public so they wouldn't know I lied. Then I lied and said I was sick so you wouldn't come. You have to believe me, I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry you got caught!" She argued. Every word he said made her feel like nothing and had her second-guessing every part of their relationship.

"You knew I wasn't popular and you knew that wouldn't change. Yet, you let me fall in love with you? You let me think I meant something and meant more to you than your stupid King Steve image. I don't believe you're sorry, I mean look at you!" She scoffed, "perfect suit and that damn crown on your head. This is what you wanted, you chose that crown over me. You're selfish and scum. But congratulations Steve, you're the prom king, I hope that helps you sleep at night" She spat. She gave him one last glare and broken look, then she turned around and walked to her car.

Steve felt his eyes water as he watched her walk away. The crown on his head felt like it was digging into his skull. He yanked it off his head and stared at the shiny material.

Why was this more important than her?

~~~

Y/N needed a lot of space from Steve, she needed her head clear so she could move on. It was clear Steve was embarrassed by her and his status would remain most important. She didn't deserve to be second place to anything, and especially a stupid high school nickname.

She thought Steve was more mature and grown up, but she was wrong. She got played by a boy and she hated it. She also hated how much she missed him. She missed playing with his hair as the TV played, singing in his car on the way home, and kissing his lips.

But they were broken up and she needed the reminder.

Steve gave her the space she wanted. He made sure to use that time to figure out how he was going to make it up to her. He feels stupid and embarrassed he let himself get sucked into a stupid high school moment. It was one moment in his whole life, something he wouldn't care about once he graduated. But Y/N was someone he would care about his whole life, and he fucked it up.

It had been a long week but Steve finally made his way to her house. He knocked on her window, smiling softly when her face came into view. She rolled her eyes but opened the window.

"What?"

"Can we talk? I brought your favorite!" He said with a big grin, pulling out a bag of her favorite candy from his back pocket.

"This doesn't help your case," she said and snatched the bag of candy. She moved over and allowed him to come inside.

"I wish I had some really good explanation for what I did, something that could make you feel better. But I don't. There is no explanation for hiding you just to win something so stupid. I know I never should have thought for a second the crown was more important, and I made the mistake of realizing that too late, I'm sorry" he said.

She sat quietly as she listened to his words. She felt torn because she loved him but was just so mad at him.

"I'm sorry for listening to my stupid friends. I'm sorry I didn't tell them how in love with you I am. And I'm sorry that I hurt you. I don't deserve another chance, I know that. But is there anything I can do to fix us?"

"Steve, do you understand that you were embarrassed by me? Do you know how that made me feel? It broke my heart. I don't know what to do to fix it, and I don't know if I want to fix us."

Steve gulped as he looked at her. "You want to stay broken up?" He choked out

"I don't know," Y/N shrugged, "I don't want to be loved in only private. I think I deserve to be loved the way I love you. If I forgive you and we stay together, did you learn the lesson? Do you deserve to suffer without me? I'm split in the middle." She sighed, moving to sit on her bed.

Steve walked in front of her and dropped to his knees. He placed his hands on her thighs and looked up at her.

"You do deserve that, and you always did. I know I can be better and love you. I don't want you to deserve better with someone else, I want to be better for you. I want to give you what you need. I learned my lesson the second I saw your face," he spoke softly as he moved his hand up to her cheek. "Can you make me suffer while we try to make it work?"

"I don't forgive you yet, but I'm willing to see if we can work," she said, melting into his hand

"Thank you," he said, moving in to wrap her in a tight hug

She wasn't sure what the future had in store for them, but she loved him enough to find out

[drewstarkeyluvbot]

Let the light in

Rafe Cameron x ex-best friend pogue!reader

Summary: After Rafe drunkenly opens up his bare soul to you for the second time in your life, you're left bewildered and confused. You want to run away before he can pull you back in but perhaps a connection so profound is destined to be revived , in more ways than one.

warnings: angst , cursing , sexual content!

word count: 5k

part one , part two

~

The only evidence that indicated his presence was the empty glass of water on the coffee table and the - now dry - piece of cloth on the ground beside the worn-out couch. Rafe was gone the morning after.

He didn't reply to your last statement that night. You remember him staring at you blankly, your words slashing open another hole in his heart. So much blood, there's so much blood. Both of your wounds keep ripping open and you're both desperately trying to patch them up. Your efforts are in vain, the history behind them is too deep.

Why did he leave? Did he regret it? Did he even remember anything? Did he wake up , and was horrified at the sight of his surroundings, of your house? Did he know he opened his heart again, just like the time he told you he was in love with you?

Whatever his reasoning was, it was adequate to urge him to disappear from your house without a single word. But he did always have a habit of leaving, didn't he? Stop thinking he's who he used to be, stop thinking he's still your childhood friend , stop thinking he's still your first love.

I wish I could go back to the start.

You wanted to elbow him, slap him across the face and scream at him for a further explanation. He wishes he could go back to the start?. You wish there was no start at all ;  you want to rip your hair out and scream at your small, puffy-  cheeked five year old self to run when she sees that adorable, blue eyed boy approaching her at the playground. You want to warn her, caress her hair and tell her what a horrible person he is , tell her he's the fucking boogeyman ; anything to keep her away from the inevitable pain.

You can't.

You suppose the pain won't ever stop , you had growing accustomed to it before he reappeared. Pain is okay, it's to be expected when it stems from something that used to be so profound. You've sobbed yourself to sleep countless of times, until your eyes were itchy and red and your throat felt raw ; it felt really good, crying about him. Like unleashing your emotions inside the four walls of your cramped room, where they bounced off them and stayed inside.

That's what needs to happen. You can sob and cry and scream as much as your body allows you to ; you're entitled to. But you shouldn't be lead by pain.

So , as you're crying about Rafe Cameron under your warm, fluffy blanket and with the enchanting glow of the moon cascading over your body through your sketchy blinds , you understand that blotchy tears and sore throats won't get you anywhere. You're not okay - at the moment - but you will be, someday.

You're going to keep living until that moment arrives. Until the sight of him makes your lips tight and taut instead of wobbly, until he stops appearing in your dreams like an unachievable target, until he merely becomes a ghost of your past instead of a monster of your present.

Until then, salty tears and rapid headaches are your only resolution.

~

Since you were a child, you've always found getaways in order to escape the malicious feeling of pure pain. Crying and screaming assisted you in facing your pain, in confronting it. Nevertheless, at times you don't want to turn into a sobbing mess , you want not to think about it at all.

You've always loved the sea.

The sound of your feet digging into the sand and the soft splashing sound of the waves hitting the shore prevails over your soul crashing thoughts as you continue to increase the distance between you and your house. The beach is quiet and tranquil -mostly- a couple of people here and there, but the amount diminishing the further you find yourself walking.

Walking. Which is exactly what you planned to do until - you don't know - got lost, or until someone found you and dragged you away. You didn't plan to stop, not for anything, not for anyone.

You stare at the point where the sky meets the sea, the sun casting a warm, orange hue over the clear waters. You wished to be as beautiful and free as the ocean one day.

You love silence. You love feeling the wind slipping through your hair, the salt sticking to your skin and the sun turning your cheeks a pretty shade of rose. It's a feeling almost equivalent to the comfort a loved one can provide you with , the difference being that this feeling won't ever make you hurt.

The sun has fully set, shielding itself between the mountains. You're walking back home, silently cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket with you ; the breeze making you grit your teeth and causing goosebumps on your skin.

You hear the loud roar of a motorcycle emerging from the distance, and you despise yourself for immediately having thoughts about a certain person when the sound reaches your ears. It's the outer banks, nearly everyone has a motorcycle. Nevertheless, luck was never really on your side.

Not tonight at least.

You want to scream at the top of your lungs when you hear the vehicle slowing down, before it comes to an abrupt stop right next to your figure. You gnaw on your bottom lip as you turn to look at him; he's slowly removing his helmet, and you almost wish the face that's hiding under was a stranger. But you suppose he's a stranger anyway.

You meet icy blue eyes, silence ensues. Cold, empty, bloody silence.

You could run, curse him out, slap him across the face with as much power as you can hold. Why are you frozen?

"It's late." The silence is broken by his deep voice ; you can hear it ever so slightly breaking out, "You shouldn't be walking alone."

Your mouth parts as you stare at him, "I'm fine." Your voice is quiet, the wind roaring louder. You stare at the way his Adam's apple bops as he thinks of a reply.

"What are you doing out here?" You hate that you your mind has fooled you to believe there's a hint of concern hidden in his tone. He doesn't care, he doesn't care, he doesn't care.

You stare at him for a moment, mindlessly. You open your mouth, "You left." You spit the combination of words out. You're not even sure if your statement hints towards the night that occured recently, or him leaving your life two years ago. You don't even bother to elaborate, whatever conclusion he draws will have the exact same outcome.

You can immediately tell your words startle him from the way the muscles in his jaw flex and tense. He sighs, scratching his jaw slowly "I didn't want to wake you up."

So,he picked the first version.

His words ring through your ears , your expression turning into something a lot more bitter. You immediately shake your head ; your feet are already making the first steps back to your path , "Goodnight, Rafe."

You feel a strong hand wrapping around your wrist, your body coming to an abrupt stop as the sensation of his touch courses throughout your entire body. You want to scream as loud as you can.

You don't turn your body around, he doesn't lessen his hold, none of you speak for sometime; probably filtering the gravity of your situation, from both sides of the story.

"I meant it." His words are spoken in a whisper, "All of it, every single word, I meant all of it."

Your throat instantly clogs up and your chest tightens as the ambiguous words sink in. I meant all of it. What did he mean? What is he referring to? The night he left you? The night of the thunderstorm? The night he told you he was in love with you? The night he came to your house drunk after years?

Rafe has said so many different things, and you could him to ask to elaborate, to be more specific on whether he still loves you the way he did or he despises your guts like he's supposed to.

You think you're allowed to be selfish for once in your life, you're not obliged to be Rafe Cameron's emotional punchbag, not when you're still frozen , not when you're still stuck at the place where he left you.

"Goodnight, Rafe." You repeat quietly, your hand slowly slipping out of his hold as you walk away.

He doesn't follow you, and - for the first time - you're glad he doesn't.

~

Your teeth forcefully grit together as your hand gently rests itself on the area between his shoulder blades ; groans spill from his lips like a robust waterfall as he stuffs his face inside your toilet bowl, his body limp and frozen on your cold tiles.

Your hand gently caresses his broad back, your legs tucked under you and your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. "You're okay, it's okay." You whisper words of comfort as Rafe empties his whole stomach inside the bowl, your other hand moving to pull his curtain bangs away from his eyes.

He hoarsely coughs out the last drops  , breathing heavily as he moves his head away and lazily rests it on the toilet seat. You immediately scrunch up your nose at the sight, before gently moving your hands to cradle his head. "Come on." You whisper gently, moving his head right side up.

Groans spill from his lips at the change of position , lazy blinks directed at your face. You sigh quietly as you lift up the wet cloth you were holding and begin softly dapping at his mouth to clean him up.

Rafe hums contently, instantly leaning into your touch. You ignore the feeling of adoration bubbling in your chest at his sweet face, instead pulling the cloth away. "I can't lift you up,can you stand?" You whisper softly, sliding your fingers through his hair. Rafe mumbles a short response, nodding his head as he grips the marble of the toilet bowl to stand up. His legs are inevitably wobbling, and you  snake an arm around his waist to assist in steading him.

When he's stable, you slowly begin walking him towards your bedroom, softly kicking the door open with your foot.  You stumble a few times, barely managing to not tumble to the ground before you reach the bed. You slowly lay his broad body atop it, he lands with a soft hum.

You let out a soft sigh, before sitting right next to him. His eyes are closed, chest heaving up and down peacefully. You grab another wet cloth, scooting closer to him. You softly run the cloth down his face, wiping the sweat away carefully and offering him a sense of refreshment.

"Mhm," soft hums of pleasure leave his lips, his eyelids softly dropping open. The sides of his mouth quirk up in a soft smile. "You're so pretty."

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to conceal your small smile; an odd tightening sensation occuring in your stomach at his words. "Sit up." You reply instead, bending forward to drop the cloth on the bedside table and grab the filled glass of water.

He groans quietly, but eventually obeys and slowly sit up. You hand him the glass carefully , his hand slightly shaky as he grips it. You watch as he downs it, grimacing slightly but knowing you'll possibly scream at him if he denies it.

You place the now empty glass back on the bedside table; he stares at you, giddily. You softly cradle the back of his head as you push him to lay back down on your fluffy pillow.

"No-" he suddenly speaks up, making your eyebrows immediately furrow at his words. "No?" You inquiry, utterly bewildered. He immediately shakes his head, groaning at his own action from the dizziness before he carelessly plops his head on your lap.

Your breath hitches at the action; you stare for a moment, dumbfounded and bewildered before he speaks up. "Better." He mumbles, tilting his body so his face is looking up at you. You stare down at him, at his silly expression that's stretched into a bright grin. "You're so pretty." He repeats slowly.

You shake your head, before moving your hand and tamely running it through his soft locks. He hums quietly, tilting his face to the side and nuzzling his nose against your hand. Your heart rapidly fills with warmth at the sweet sight, the side of your mouth quirking up.

"You need to stop drinking so much, I'm worried about you." You whisper softly, still playing with the mess on his head. "Do you promise me, Rafe?"

His pretty eyes gaze into yours , the pale colour reminding you of the tranquility that can only be found in the deep, blue waters. You've always loved the sea.

Instead of a reply to your question, Rafe merely smiles lazily. He lifts his hand, thumb softly grazing your pouty, plush bottom lip. "I'm so in love with you, you're the only one who cares."

I'm so in love with you , you're the only one who cares .

I'm so in love with you , you're the only one who cares .

I'm so in love with you , you're the only one who cares .

You wake up with a strangled gasp , your chest heaving up and down and your hair clinging to your forehead from the sweat that had gradually accumulated there. Your heart is beating inside your ears, as you filter your surroundings.

It is not the first time you had dreamt of that night,nor would it be the last. Alas, it usually drifted from what had actually occurred; your dreams are rarely accurate, anyway.

This time, every small and insignificant detail was so chillingly on point that you felt as if you were reliving the memory; that you were reliving that night, that you were reliving the moment he told you how he felt.

It's raining again; the thunder roaring in the distance and the raindrops rapidly falling against your living room windows. You had accidentally fallen asleep on your couch, a trashy show playing on your TV.  Your nails dig into your palms as you bring them to your eyes, elbows resting on your knees as you groan. Will you ever be okay?

The sound of the thunderstorm is excessively loud, yet not loud enough to drown out the sound of rapid knocks on your wooden door. Your eyebrows instantly scrunch together, before a wave of realization washes over you. The skies are dark and the rain is pouring, there's only one person that would ever ignore that. Your feet mindlessly lead you to the door.

When you unlock the door a wave of rain hits you, making you huff. You meet icy blue eyes under wet curtain bangs; you immediately grab his hand to pull him Inside,not postponing it or filtering your action.

No words are spoken as you hurry towards the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel and scurrying back towards the living room. You throw it to him, irritation bubbling inside your veins.

He catches it immediately, leaning forward to dry his wet hair. You stare at him, trying to comprehend the fact that Rafe Cameron is currently standing in the middle of your living room, drying himself with your towel and he doesn't look drunk.

"What are you doing here, rafe?" You whisper,a peculiar feeling of anger rising inside your chest. "I doubt you randomly decided to drive through the south side of the island during a fucking thunderstorm."

He immediately freezes at your words, discerning the bitterness behind them. He lets out a soft sigh as he drops the wet towel on the couch, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes. He breathes through his nose, "I wasn't." He speaks up, "I wanted to see you."

Your nose scrunches up, teeth digging into your bottom lip until you can practically taste blood. "Are you drunk again?" You can't help but spit out the first sentence that comes to mind.

Rafe breaths out slowly, "I'm not drunk, Y/n." Your arms come around to loosely hug your waist as his words sink in. You stare at him for a short moment, before letting out another sigh. "Why are here then?"

He stares at you, desperately attempting to meet your gaze. Your eyes remain fixed on the ground by his feet. He sighs. "My thoughts are drowning me."

Your eyes narrow at the ground, before you lift them up. "Your thoughts are drowning you?" Your repeat his own words back to him, quietly.

His nostrils slightly flare before he nods, "They are." He breaths out, "I've tried to escape them all these years, and I was doing fine-  " he takes a deep breath, "Before you showed up at my front door."

You don't reply, but you can feel the way your manicured nails dig into your bicep.  He immediately sighs, shaking his head. "Please say something." his voice is nothing but a weak whisper, it makes your chest ache.

You breathe out slowly, "What do you want me to say, Rafe?"

He immediately shakes his head in response, "Anything." He breaths out, "Scream at me, curse me out, throw a fucking book at my head -" his voice croaks , "Just, please - don't be as silent as you are in my dreams."

Your breath hitches at his words, the dream you had before he showed up practically taunting you in your head. He had dreams about you?

"I don't want to do that anymore." You croak out a reply quietly, "I don't want to hurt you anymore, it's pointless - "

"But I deserve it!" He instantly interferes , stepping a slight bit closer to you. "I deserve your anger, I deserve every bit of it." He whispers, his eyes pleading in the gloomy room. "I'm a horrible person, y/n."

You immediately shake your head, your arms falling back to your sides, "Rafe, you don't have to say -"

"I regret everything." He interferes again before you can finish your sentence, "Do you know how many nights I've spent dreaming of your face the night I told you to leave me alone?  " He whispers, and you desperately want to scream.

"Rafe - " you whisper breathlessesly , if only he knew how many times you've dreamt of the same night.

"I always tried to do everything right by - by him."  When Rafe speaks those words, he looks exactly like the small child he once was, the one that was craving his father's love.

Because you instantly know what he means , who he's referring to. You knew from the moment he let you go that his father had played a big part in it , that he had pulled certain strings. Rafe was a child that needed love, the same child that is still in him and begging to be healed.

You can feel your anger diminishing little by little , until all you can feel is remorse. You don't speak yet, he continues .

"He told me - he told me that I have  responsibilities as his son." He whispers ,  " - and that I've reached the age where I should start owning up to them. " He adds, fingers anxiously running through his messy hair. "Our image was one of them."

You don't interfere, instantly understanding that he's spilling out everything he has bottled up for god knows how long. He takes a deep breath ;  his hands coming up to rub his eyes fiercely, "this is so stupid - it's so fucking stupid." He whispers , and your heart immediately cracks. "He - he told me that being seen with people like you shows my value." You could barely decipher his glassy eyes in the gloominess of the night, "and he told me that's not what we - as a family - stand for."

The distance between you has diminished as your legs slowly move towards his broken frame. His body is slightly hunched over, his hands finding their way back to his eyes. "I'm so sorry, y/n."  his voice is quiet, "I'm so sorry, so sorry."

You can't physically see the tears pouring from his eyes , but the croaking of his voice serves as an indication, a broken indication. This is the moment that you have been eagerly waiting for years. Rafe Cameron is in a vulnerable position, he's driven by pain; the most malicious feeling. You finally have the upper hand, you can exploit the situation, you can make him drop to his fucking knees and beg till his throat goes raw and his knees start bleeding. You can cause him the pain you so desperately wish you could cause him since that horrible night.

You can do it  - god - you should do it.

You take a single step before your hands gently grip his wrists, moving them away from his puffy eyes. In the next second your arms gently snake themselves around his neck, face burying itself into the crook of his neck . He freezes for a mere second before his own arms tightly wrap around your waist, bringing your bodies together.

It has been years since Rafe Cameron cried in your arms. Yet, as you feel the tears falling against your hair and you shake as his body rakes with sobs ; you suppose nothing really changed. He's still the same broken boy that yearns for comfort and you're still the same loving girl that will provide him it. Always.

"It's okay, Rafe." You whisper comfortingly, one hand coming up and raking through his messy hair. "It's okay,I understand." Another sob is given as a reply, you feel him shake his head against your hair.

"You're an angel."  He whispers against the top of your head, his hand slowly running up and down your back in a comforting manner. "The sweetest angel."

Your breath hitches against his throat, and you slowly move your head back to meet his eyes. Pain, there's so much of it. Your hands are shaking as they move to his cheeks, ever so slightly grazing them to wipe away the tears. He immediately leans into your touch like a starving cat, his eyelids falling closed.

You're an angel.

"I meant it." Your body is taken back to that night on the beach, when he uttered those same words rather ambiguously. You remember being desperate for an elaboration but selfishly not asking for one. You suppose you'll receive it today.

His eyes are boring into yours now, the prettiest shade of blue; even when they're puffy and broken.  "I knew exactly what I was saying when I told you I was in love with you." Your heart practically jumps out of your chest at the sound of his words, mouth parting.

"I know it, because I've never felt it for anyone else, nor will I ever feel it." He continues, lowering his face. " My heart became yours the moment you hurt your knee at the playground." Your eyes sting at the sweet memory of your first encounter.

Rafe doesn't stop there, instead bringing a hand to push a strand of hair away from your face as he continues. "I searched for you in everyone else,do you know that?" You're staring at him, not able to form a single fucking word.

Rafe smiles rather sadly, "That girl you saw me at the party with?" He whispers softly, "I know you saw me, my chest tightened the moment our eyes met." You gnaw on your bottom lip at the bitter memory.

"She had your eyes, hair and almost had your smile." He whispers, before shaking his head "Almost ." He repeats, gaze falling to your plush lips . "I couldn't look into her eyes though, that would only remind me that she wasn't you."

Your eyes sting further at that, and you cannot comprehend the amount of emotional information you were given. Because what is actually happening? You immediately shake your head, not knowing what to do or how to act.

"I would trade the touch of a million women if it meant I could look into your eyes everyday." Your heart swarms with warmth at the sweet words, and you genuinely want to scream.

"Rafe." You finally find the strength within you to speak up. "Do you understand what you're saying?"

He gazes into your beautiful eyes for a moment, his hand continuing to caress your back. "I'm saying what I should have said years ago." He whispers softly, "What I should have said before letting you walk out of my life like you weren't the best thing to ever happen to me."

Your breath hitches again, fanning his pouty lips due to the close proximity. He slowly runs his fingers through your hair, "If you tell me to fuck off , to never speak to you again, I'll completely understand." He elaborates after a beat of silence. "I just - I see you  in my mind all the time and I- I can't even think properly when I know you hate the person I've become." He whispers , eyes never leaving yours.

Silence ensues.

"Please,say something." His tone is nothing but yearning and pleading. "Please."

Instead of providing him with a verbal response, you find yourself balancing on your tippy toes as you gently place your lips on top of his, knocking the air out of his own lungs. The hand that was caressing your back falters for a moment , before it tightly wraps around your waist as the other moves to cradle your jaw. When Rafe starts moving his lips against yours, your mind turns hazy and foggy.

Your first kiss is languid and slow ; your hands are gently running through his locks as he softly grips your hips. You suppose you should have said something more instead of silencing him with your mouth. You also suppose that actions speak louder than words.

"Tell me this is real." He whispers against your lips, his nose slowly nuzzling against yours. The corners of your mouth lift immediately, receiving one in return when he feels it against his own.  "Fully healing is going to take time." You whisper softly, your lips grazing his as you talk. "But this is real."

Rafe's heart immediately swarms with warmth at your words ; they're almost like a bandage, slowly covering each and every cut that was causing his heart to bleed. The ice around his eyes gradually melts away, because the light of his life has returned.

He tilts your chin up, his face brightening up after what feels like forever. "We'll heal eachother." He whispers gently, before reconnecting your lips.

Time seems to slow down after that, your hands are gently tugging at his hair as he languidly slips his tongue into your mouth. Your breath hitches as he slides it against yours, your tummy blossoming with newborn butterflies.

You don't know how much time has passed in eachother's mouths before you're pulling away and wrapping your hand around his wrist. His eyebrows scrunch in confusion; the feeling immediately washes away when you begin walking him towards the direction of your bedroom. He remembers where it is, this house used to be his own.

His body covers yours like a blanket the moment you lay yourself on your soft mattress; his lips immediately search yours again as your hands slide across his broad shoulders. He pulls away after a moment, only to pepper your face with small kisses. You let out a soft giggle as he showers you with adoration, his lips quirking up at the beautiful sound.

"You're gorgeous." He whispers against your jaw before his mouth moves lower , nose snuggling against your bare neck. When he begins sucking and nibbling, you can do nothing but moan at the sweet sensation, hand slowly caressing the back of his head.

"You sound so sweet." Your pajama shirt has been discarded to the floor, his lips moving over your breasts languidly. He closes his mouth around a nipple, softly sucking on it and causing small whimpers to fall from your lips. "Oh-"

He smiles softly, before his lips slowly trail lower. He plants soft kisses on your stomach as he makes his way down, "My pretty girl." He hums softly, moving his fingers to hook on the edge of your shorts. "Lift your hips."

You immediately obey, assisting him in removing your pajama shorts. You expected to feel embarrassed under his gaze, but you feel nothing short of appreciation. He smiles at you, before moving back between your legs.

Both of his hands move to grip each thigh, his face moving forward only to plant a soft kiss against your lace covered core. A gasp instantly falls from your parted lips at the sensation, before you feel his fingers tracing the edge of your white panties. He looks up at you instantly, "Can I?"

Your reply is in the form of a nod and before you know it , your panties are pulled down your legs and your thighs are moved to his shoulders. The first lick is slow and tentative, your mouth dropping open on a moan.

He hums in pure appreciation as his hands grip the warm flesh of your thighs, his tongue moving in circles against your clit. He moans against you, his movements speeding up. "Rafe - oh-!" You can merely moan, back arching off the bed prettily.

"Sweet thing." He whispers against your heat, "My sweet girl, my girl." His words are enough to make you see stars, thighs clenching around his head. He groans at the sensation , combined with the feeling of your hands gripping his roots tightly to ground yourself.

It doesn't take you a long before you feel the tightening sensation in your lower tummy, and your moans only grow more desperate. It's incredible that Rafe senses your desperation immediately, keeping up his movements but accompanying them with his deep voice. "Come for me ,baby, please."

When the feeling washes over you, your toes curl on his shoulders and your mouth chokes out a scream of his name. He receives all of it with a hum, hand softly caressing your thigh as he places wet kisses up to your mouth.

"You're so perfect, taste so perfect." He whispers lovingly , his messy lips finding yours yet again . You whimper against his mouth, teeth biting his bottom lip desperately.

You're too hazy from your orgasm to comprehend anything as you reach for your bedside table, a condom package secured in your palm. His clothes are on the floor in what feels like seconds , and your naked skin is now plastered together. Your legs are tightly wrapped around his waist as he whispers questions of reassurance against your pretty lips.

"I want you, Rafe." Your sweet voice is enough to guide his hips forward , both of you gasping in response. His blue eyes stay locked on yours the entire time your bodies are moving, your mouth agape on a gasp as he presses soft kisses against your face.

"I love you" you whisper quietly after a while, your nails scratching down his toned back eagerly. He hisses at the sensation , hips bucking forward abruptly. When your words register , his heart blooms with adoration. He accelerates the movement of his hips ; his lips moving to taste yours again. "I love you." He whispers back to you, "I love you." He repeats, both of your moans getting louder as you get closer to the brink of sweet relief. "I love you, angel -" both of you gasp, before his body stills.

And as you're breathing inside each other's mouths, sharing words of love and reassurance, you realize that you're both a mess, a beautiful mess of utter chaos.

But you found your way back to eachother; whatever the implications might be , you're willing to face them together. Always.

Always and forever.

~

[tremendouscreationperson]

Bucky Barnes x Chubby!Reader imagine

It had been really difficult to blow Bucky off each time he asked to hang out. In fact it had been really difficult to ignore the whole friendship group. If you went out with Steve, no doubt Bucky would be there. If you went out with Nat, no doubt Bucky would hear and ask you to meet him the following day. The same goes for Sam, Wanda and, fuck it, even Tony.

So you all but secluded yourself in your room. Which wasn't your choice really but your boyfriend Alex hadn't taken kindly to your close relationship with another man. He wasn't convinced that even though you two grew up together you could be 'just friends'. And to his credit he wasn't really wrong. You had harboured a fat crush on your closest friend for a while but it was unrequited and then Alex came into your life and he was the first guy who actually showed an interest in you. It wasn't something you were used to in the slightest. Being friends with beauties like Natasha and Wanda you were often looked over by those not in the friend group but Alex had sought you out.

So here you were, on a Saturday, missing out whatever fun shenanigans were going on. Scrolling through various apps in your pjs like a party animal.

A knock at your door startled you out of mindlessly scrolling.

You sat yourself up and hoped to god you weren't nose blind and the room smelt okay.

"I'm decent." You joked.

The door opened and the very person you were avoiding ducked his head in. Fuck Bruce. You had told him not to let anyone in.

"Oh my god. You're alive." He joked back shutting the door behind himself. Bucky sauntered into your room, with the same swagger he always had, plonking himself down on your bed.

Not sure what to say in response, you go to the diplomatic, "You okay?"

He gives you a half shrug and leans backwards. "Missing my partner in crime. Thought I'd visit you."

You merely nod in reply.

This is the first ever awkward silence you and Bucky had sat through. It spread out horribly, stretching until you gave a very fake cough. Hoping any noise would solve it. It didn't.

"Right, okay, just go straight to the point." Bucky muttered. "Look, why are you avoiding me, angel? What did I do?"

Bucky's gaze was always piercing but today the intensity winded you. Why were you avoiding him?

There was no use lying anymore. You'd used up all your excuses anyway. You couldn't be sick again or have work again you just needed to tell him. He deserves honesty. "Alex isn't our biggest fan."

"Yeah, I knew that." Bucky chuckled. "I just didn't realise his dick was worth all your friends." You tutted at his crude remark. "He told me off for piggybacking you at the fair. 'she doesn't let me carry her, why are you'." His impression was eerily good.

You chuckled a little at the idea of Alex confronting Bucky. "He was not pleased that evening."

"He doesn'-" Bucky shook his head.

"Doesn't what?"

"Nothing." He ran a hand through his locks. "Where is he anyway?"

"He's at a friend's birthday."

Bucky's eyebrows were in his hairline. "And he has taken you?"

This was a sore topic. But you'd been honest so far... "I didn't fit into the dress."

Now he was frowning. "What dress?"

You motioned to your wardrobe. "He brought me a dress, I've been working to get into it but."

"Been wor-" Bucky's frown somehow got deeper. "Why would he buy you a dress that doesn't fit you?"

Your mouth opened and closed but you didn't have an answer.

Bucky stomped over to the wardrobe and opened it. There was a dress resting against the door, it was enclosed in plastic so he had to unzip it. The dress was tiny. It was a little strappy thing with far too many holes. What were the holes supposed to- oh they were going to expose your sides and back.

"This i-" He turned to you. "You'd never wear this. It's not even your colour."

You couldn't agree more. "I know, it's been a little arguement between us." That was an understatement.

"I still don't understand why he buys you something that didn't fit." You shrugged but before you could respond he continued, "what's this?"

Your eyes flicked down to the pile he was caught on. "Oh, those ar- those are your hoodies."

Bucky gave you a confused face. "Bu- these are yours, angel."

You smiled sweetly at him. "Alex wasn'-"

"I don't care about him. He buys you shit that doesn't fit, he goes to parties without you, he isolates you from your friends." Bucky sat back on the bed but much closer, just by your hip. "Why are you with him?"

You didn't know. You liked him. You think you love him. But when you really think of it, you don't know. You're not any happier with him than if you weren't. Sometimes he says things and you feel fat in a bad way. You'd be the first to say you weren't thin but the way he says it makes you feel wrong. "He's the first guy to actually show an interest in me, I suppose at first I enjoyed it but when you say it like that."

"He is not the first guy to show you an interest." Bucky shook his head in disbelief. "You're gorgeous."

You rolled your eyes. "Thanks. But when I'm out with the gang I'm not really being looked at."

"You are." Bucky vowed. "I- people do look at you. I-I sometimes don't like the way they look at you and maybe I dance with you and maybe I take you on the Ferris wheel."

Why wouldn't he like the way they looked at you? Your brows pulled. "The way they look at me?"

"Like you're just a quick fuck." He instantly regretted that. "No, they look at you with lust but I know they would leave. They wouldn't treat you right. They wouldn't care for you." His eyes were bright and honest. He wasn't embarrassed by his confession.

You had nothing. No response. What could you say that wouldn't betray the crush? You didn't still like him, no, well ... When he looked at you like that...

"Come on." He clapped a hand on your knee. "Get changed let's get pizza." The look on your face must've shown your obvious debate. "I don't care if you don't fit into that dress, you look like you haven't eaten anything good in ages."