#at the end of the day the only real difference between hanging with the girls and hanging with the boys

[wonryllis]

𝜗𝜚ㅤBABY YOU ARE MORE THAN JUST A DREAM! ( love at first sight with idol!reader )

────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅!

﹙NOTES.﹚ non!idol enha falling for you. 𖥔 ݁ fluff. reqtd. fem!r. 2569wc. LIB?

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

the one who gets attracted to your light in the struggles of his life. a broke college student working multiple part time jobs to pay for his student loans. an avid listener of kpop who does not have much idea about groups, especially girl groups simply because of his busy life. it's one fateful afternoon when he's on his shift in everland dressed in his heavy bear mascot, barbequing inside drenched in sweat trying to hand out flyers and taking pictures with kids.

too tired he sits on a bench, taking off the head and brushing his wet hair when you appear with a camera seeming to be filming a self vlog. "do you need help?" you ask and heeseung falls into the rabbit hole that very instant. you're so pretty and you're also so sweet and kind, standing with him, helping him out even when you're not obligated to. smiling so beautifully and warmly at him each time he turns to look at you every other minute.

he's lost in his own world trying to make sense how he got such an amazing person to notice him and how everyone seems so interested in the flyers from the moment you step in. you offer him tissues to wipe off his sweat and appraise him for working so hard struggling but still not giving up, heeseung questions if this is real, if you are real.

he does not hesitate to ask for your name surprised when it sounds so familiar and going into a cardiac arrest upon realising you're the same idol he listens to everyday on break, your soothing voice helping him through his day.

you invite him to join you on your vlog and show you around the theme park after he's done working, at this point heeseung is soulless he has no idea how he's functioning but he is. he fumbles around to change as quick as he can after he's off, putting on as much deodrant as he can afraid of smelling sweaty around you. "thank you so much for hanging out with me!" you give him a hug at the end, "no thank you so much for helping me out," he'll never be able to get over this.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

the one who keeps crossing paths with you like destiny, a thin line between reality and falling so hard for a celebrity. you start as his airport crush, one on whom once he lays his eyes they follow everywhere. he takes in every little detail about you from across the room watching you sit in the waiting area wondering if you're on the same flight. he feels like he's seen you somewhere but he can't bring himself to remember.

it is when he spots the various people you're surrounded with, he realises you're an idol, not understanding how he seems to have seen you before but not having clear memory of it, like how can he forget someone like that.

nevertheless he's hooked, anyone can see with the way he keeps glancing in your direction time and again. some of the crew members notice him immediately, trying to gesture to you subtly. and it works when you lock eyes the next time he looks, he turns away at the speed of light face heating up and the tip of ears getting red, he definitely gave himself away. but what to do he's so bad at pretending.

visibly upset when he sees you boarding a different flight. but fate appears to be on his side when two days later he spots you again on the streets of athens filming some group content. he's a little hesitant to do anything. he leaves to look the surrounding shops only to come back again and again to watch you.

you're on break the fourth time he does it and you lock eyes again, jay literally freezes in his spot he doesn't know what to do, feeling like his heart would jump right out onto his palms as he watches you get up and walk towards him. "hey," you speak waving to him as you stop a freaking few inches away from him. "yeah," jay mumbles, voice so cold he regrets it in a second with your face turning confused at his bleak response,"i mean hey, i'm just really nervous right now," oh my god he can't believe he also said that like jay?? "mhm," you smile,"that's cute," jay stopped working.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

the one who falls at a chance encounter, one look and he's mesmerized. a die hard baseball fan, attending one of the matches where your group is set to perform a song. he had no clue about it but who is he to complain cause the moment he spots you, he can't take his eyes off of you, you dance so prettily, the way you move your body he's beyond hypnotized.

and your voice don't get him started at that it's like a siren calling for him, luring him into a trap he can't ever escape from. a little disappointed when the performance is over, keeps trying to find you in the crowd, looking for your pretty face amidst the others.

once he finds your seat, he's staring continuously, if not that then every two seconds. the game is long forgotten he doesn't give a shit who's winning and losing. for him the win here lies on watching you do everything. the way you smile at your members so softly, how your laugh seems to be so addicting even of he can barely hear it, when you're munching on snacks, cheering on the players from time to time. nothing's ever been this interesting to watch, nothing can beat this not even a match of his favourite teams.

had he known about you earlier he would have done everything in his power to attend every fansign, grabbing every opportunity to meet you, to be able to see you up close and talk to you, listen to your pretty voice telling him literally anything and everything.

he tries finding ways to meet you, looking closely to see if he can encounter a situation where he supposedly comes across you accidentally and compliment your performance, talking about how well you did. and lucky for him he does get that chance when he least expects it.

sad and dejected at the end of the performance, just leaving the venue when you bump into him all alone. his entire world shakes so excited he might burst any second. "your performance was so good i couldn't take my eyes off of you," he blurts out, "thanks, i noticed you looking, a lot actually," someone bury him right now.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

the one who has no interest in kpop, he's literally got no clue about any idol and he doesn't even give a fuck about it. he's super career oriented person who supposedly has no time for all this bullshit he says. but the moment he lays eyes on you, the pretty barista on the other side of the counter of his favourite cafe he cannot help rethinking about his ways of life.

he swears he's never seen someone so beautiful ever, there's just something about you that somehow seems to keep drawing him towards you. he wonders if you're new or has he always been this blind.

the way you smile when he enters through the door, welcoming him so sweetly, the light from outside falling on your face so gorgeously he stutters for the first time in forever. boy cannot form the proper words, he fumbles on his regular order, forgets to tell his name and keeps staring and gawking so awkwardly at you, he's convinced you think of him as a creep.

almost leaves the cafe literally a step out the door before he decides he cannot let this chance go and rushes like a loser over to the front, waiting as you attend to another customer. chewing on his bottom lip and hands fiddling all sweaty with nervousness.

"yes? how can i help you?" oh my god you're still so sweet, his heart skips several beats, "uhm i- well number- pretty- no i wondering- your pretty number- i meant can i-" he's never hated himself as much he does right this moment, the most important moment of his life. "my number?" you giggle and he literally melts for real,"yeah," smiling like an idiot in love. is shocked to find out you're an idol shooting a variety show, scolding himself internally for having no idea and feeling so embarrassed.

boy thinks he has lost it now, there's no way- until "did you check your cup?" if park sunghoon could put into words what he feels now he'd write an entire essay, he's so fallen, he can't get up anymore, breaking his own rules.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

the one who goes to support his friend and ends up getting attracted unexpectedly and unintentionally. boy has a lot of friends and friends of friends and so many girl friends and he's never ever felt the way he felt it immediately in a microsecond for you. it's like you stepped on stage just to capture his heart. he's been friends with her since middle school and the biggest supporter of her idol career. it's her first concert and he's booked frontline seat, having always watched only her famcams he's never really paid attention or noticed her members.

so the first time he sees you is live on stage right in front his eyes, so lost in watching you he can barely remember why he came initially.

your outfits compliment you so good, the way you seem so passionate and happy about what you're doing is so contagious to him. he so immersed in watching you, he doesn't realize how quickly it gets over, it's somehow good through because kept thinking about meeting you backstage with the special entry he would get for his friend.

he waits impatiently in the dressing room, legs bouncing in nervousness and excitement. he smiles and goes for a hug with his friend first, his eyes subtly trained on you, beaming with happiness when his friend introduces you to him.

repeating your name in his mind again and again,"your name is as pretty as you," he says smiling so so cutely at you trying to work his charms. everyone in the room can see it just how interested he is in you, leaving you both to talk and busying themselves in other things. it's struck by love at once for him but probably not for you, he understands that and knows it's best to be friends even though he wishes for may something more than that.

he tries not to overwhelm you while still complimenting you for every little thing. "you're so talented you had me mesmerized the entire concert," sunoo that's not subtle.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

the one who has been silently watching from afar for so long, cherishing every glimpse. a cat cafe owner who waits for every sunday just so he can watch you playing with the cats and kittens from his corner in the shop too afraid to ever talk to you.

the first time he saw you was during new years eve, about to close the cafe in the evening when in came the last customer, his about to be favourite customer. you vibes were so soft and warm, treating the little babies so tenderly and the way you seemed so relaxed jungwon fell for that aura around you, the comfort and genuineness you emanated.

he fell so hard, he couldn't even bother to tell you to leave even when it was way past his closing time and there were numerous missed calls from his friends for their new year party. leaves for a split second to stick a happy new year note on your shoes because baby can't bring himself to say it to your face, it doesn't help that you're super pretty and that he's shy as fuck.

he's super disappointed in himself for letting you leave like that, that day. cursing himself for being an introvert every day that goes by and he doesn't see you again.

when you visit again the next weekend he's so elated he can't describe it in words, he offers you an on the house drink, something he wouldn't have ever done for anyone, you just happen to be a special someone he's fallen for at first sight and every other glance. he's whipped and he's down bad but he's a loser and he can't approach you especially after coming across a video of you performing at an award show and realising you're an idol.

though not fully satisfied he's content to see a sight of you others don't know about, including moments of you napping surrounded by cats you love. he can see you go there for your alone time so he chooses not to disturb you "i hope we can be friends someday," his note says, the one he leaves on your table the day he gathers enough courage.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

the one who happens to be right across the door, bumping into you just at the right time all the damn time. there's been a lot of times riki is running late for things. once again he's late opening. his door in a hurry so does someone else right on the other side both bumping into each other. you look up for a split second before rushing back inside and closing the door on his face. he's flabbergasted but he's also so captivated. was such a pretty girl always living next door to him? or did the moving trucks he saw yesterday were yours?

the door opens again as you peek out slightly closing it shut again when you see him still standing there, are you shy? he wonders just then the door opens again and this time there's another girl stepping out with you trailing behind with your head down, a cap and mask on.

he recognises the other girl, saw her appear on one of the variety show he watches regularly and then realizes you must be an idol, "it suits her," he thinks out loud slapping a hand on his mouth when you turn to look back with eyes. shit. the next day he bumps into you again and then again the next day and also the day after. and with each time you seem to scurry away faster than before.

normally he wouldn't care at all but he's honestly been so bewitched by you since the moment he saw you he can't stop thinking about you, searching up your videos and watching you constantly.

"wait!" he tries to stop you once but you look at him weird and run off so quick he's baffled, worried he scares you too much. he didn't even do anything though?

"hey, just wanted to let you know i don't mean any harm, just wanted to introduce myself and maybe be friends? i know you're an idol but it doesn't matter to me, i won't snitch or anything if that's what you're scared about. xoxo, your next door neighbour, riki." he waits behind his door and slips the note from under after noticing you walk out of yours from the peephole. "hey," he steps out when you smile reading it.

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie

#enhypen imagines #k-labels #ENHYPEN ON CLOUD NINE AT FIRST LOOK LMAO #ONCE AGAIN RIKI ONE FR ONESHOT WORTHY! #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader

[melancholymetropolis]

Exchange pt. II

plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.

song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller

a/n: ya girl has some good news!

w.c: 3.0k

part(s): Part I

Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well. 

Gojo: pssss

Gojo: wifey. . .

Gojo: are you up??????

Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?

Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring. 

Gojo was calling.

I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi. 

Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.

I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call. 

“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”

“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.

“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”

I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.

“How do you feel about going on a food run?”

“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.

“Yup!”

I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down. 

I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”

“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”

Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”

“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”

“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. “You are too much.”

“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Love you, boo!”

“Imma beat your ass.”

My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”

I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”

Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”

“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”

“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”

My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before. 

Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them. 

That had been before I met Gojo.

He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly. 

Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend. 

We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship. 

Would I have loved him by now?

“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”

He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”

A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened. 

The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.

A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.

His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss. 

“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”

His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in. 

A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.

“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”

At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”. 

The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later. 

“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”

I waited a moment for him to explain.

“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”

He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage. 

“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”

“Well. . . no”

“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”

“Of course not!” I conceded. 

“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”

The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.

A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”

Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep. 

A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:

Order: 2333

Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.

"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.

He hummed in response.

"Our order is ready."

Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"

I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."

-------

a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!

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TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #chubby!reader #plus size reader #black reader #chubby reader #gojo saturo fluff #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n #gojo x plus sized reader #gojo x chubby reader #accidental marriage

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream as Taylor Swift songs. (angst version)

AN: Another NCT Dream as Taylor Swift songs ;> enjoy!

Mark Lee ; Back to December

And then the cold came, the dark days When fear crept into my mind You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

Starting strong with Back to December. CRIES. Mark is so Back to December-coded, like literally. He's that guy that you'll love at your very worst that's why you regret breaking up with him. Like!!! He was there for you, he gave all of him to you and you ended up hurting him. And your breakup with him was so HARSH that you know that you hurt him so much, and as much as you two are civil, you know that there is a wall between you too. CRIES AGAIN. 

Huang Renjun ; Cardigan

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long

Okay but, in this scenario, Renjun is your cardigan. He's a hopeless case of falling in love with someone who could never love him back. And as much as it hurts him, he still ends up going after you whenever you need him, and it didn't matter to him!! Because he loves loves you so much even though at the end, he might thrown again like an old cardigan. 

Lee Jeno ; Say Don't Go

Why'd you have to (why'd you have to) Make me love you (make me love you)? I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you") You say nothin' back

Idk how to describe how much Jeno fits Say Don't Go so much. He's the type who will lead you onto something, whisper those sweet words, and will make you feel like he loves you so much. But then he doesn't, and you're there helpless, wondering if all of it are real. And to stop your daydreaming, you walked away first BUT you waited for him to chase after you, but it the end, he didn't and it hurts you so much. 

Lee Donghyuck ; Would've, Could've, Should've

I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time

I know Would've, Could've, Should've's meaning is different BUT HEAR ME OUT. I chose this for Haechan because it fits him so much, something about being a relationship with him can be a destruction of you too. You were clueless of yourself when you're with him and when you two broke up, you're left ruined because of him!!! And years passed and you thought you're alright, but the wounds are still open and you couldn't do nothing about it. 

Na Jaemin ; Champagne Problems

I never was ready, so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

It's a YOU problem with this one. You love Jaemin so much, he's everyone's ideal man and a perfect husband material. It's just, you're not ready for marriage and family. So not only did you rejected him, but you also broke up with him because you know that it's for the best. So you watched him from afar, engaged to a girl who probably suits him better than you. She'll be a perfect wife for Na Jaemin. 

Zhong Chenle ; You're Losing Me

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

I think Chenle suits You're Losing Me because I feel like he's the type who's very confident with his relationship, and while it's low-maintenance it slowly fades away. There's no sparks, no more thrill, and you two are slowly becoming strangers living under the same rooftop. He becomes clueless, and you're on the verge of giving up fighting your relationship with him. Until one day, you did. You broke up with him.

Park Jisung ; Happiness

Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind And there is happiness

Happiness is so underrated tbh. Jisung is happiness-coded because it felt like a breakup that ended up civil because you two knew that your relationship is not working anymore. And as you two separate ways, there's relief and happiness. But still, there's a price of it, and that is your relationship with Jisung.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct #nct fic #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct mark #nct jeno #nct renjun #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

[veronicaphoenix]

THE SWEETNESS OF LOVE & PAIN*

Enter a world of crime, betrayal, and heartbreak. Upcoming full-length fanfiction featuring Noah Sebastian x Kitsey (og. fem. character) consisting of 3 acts. Coming Summer 2024.

"Loving means weakness, and your weakness has a name, Noah. Did you think we'd never find out?"

Disclaimer: This story will contain graphic descriptions of violence, including torture and murder, and will involve explicit sex scenes between the two main characters. The story will delve into harsh and delicate themes such as abuse and mental health. The content presented within may be disturbing or triggering to some, so it's obviously intended for mature audiences only. I do not condone or endorse the behaviors depicted in the narrative (except for Noah being a sweetheart to his girl). This work is a fictional piece and does not reflect real-life events or individuals. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.

*working title

SUMMARY — INTRODUCTION TO ACT I

Noah has been entangled in a life of crime since his brother Abel’s passing. Forced to right his wrongs and avoid dire consequences, Noah is left with no choice but to commit a series of perilous jobs in order to break free from the chains his own brother left around his neck.  

Amidst the darkness of his life, Noah meets Kitsey, the sweetest creature he’s ever laid eyes on. Awestruck by her bravery and boldness during an unfortunate incident at a party, he falls in love immediately. 

Kitsey, a lovely and passionate librarian with captivating brown eyes, is far from having a perfect life, either. Marked by a troubled childhood, she thinks life would never be truly fair to her. That’s until she meets the most perfect boy: Noah. 

As years pass and their relationship deepens, Kitsey senses that their situation won’t improve unless Noah puts an end to the constant blackmailing he’s facing from the people he’s working for. But Noah is blinded by hope, believing time is on their side. He wants to get his freedom back, and above that, he wants to give Kitsey hers and provide her with everything else she didn’t have as a child.

However, as Kitsey's life hangs in the balance after one of Noah's jobs takes a harrowing turn, Noah faces the crushing reality that his delay in breaking free has put the love of his life in danger, igniting a race against time to save her, uncovering the true cost of his choices and the sacrifices needed to secure a future with his girl.

SNIPPET

Standing on her tiptoes, Kitsey carefully slotted the book into its designated space on the shelf. A faint sight escaped her lips as she successfully nestled it into the snug gap among the other books in the section. She was about to grab the next book from the trolley she’d been pushing through the aisles for the past half-hour when she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. A tall, slender figure was approaching from the other side.  

Noah had a soft smile playing on his lips, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a black jacket, his hair still glistening slightly, as if he had taken a shower not long ago.  

Kitsey’s surprise was evident as she stared at him. He was supposed to be sleeping; it was only eleven in the morning. He had come home at six thirty, and even though that day he had struggled to fall asleep while she got ready for work, typically, he wouldn’t wake up until well past noon, occasionally going to the gym if he woke earlier. It wasn’t uncommon for him to visit her at the library every once in a while. He had never said it, but Kitsey sensed that he enjoyed the serene atmosphere of her workplace and the sight of her engrossed in her tasks. Noah, in fact, adored watching her, his heart swelling with every passing second and each delicate movement of her fingers over the covers of the books. Her presence alone brought him a peace that he hadn’t found anywhere else, ever. 

Today, however, he was there for a different purpose.  

“Noah, what are you d—” Her question was cut short when Noah enveloped her in a warm embrace, his long arms engulfing her.   

Noah’s familiar scent of soap mingling with his cologne brought a comforting sense of security, even in the library where the most threatening danger could be a flame setting the pages of the books on fire. It took her a moment to process the unexpected tender embrace, but as she inhaled his scent, she melted into him, letting his warmth seep through her despite the cold outside.

"I missed my girl, so I thought I'd come see her," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as he drew back slightly to meet her light brown gaze while keeping his arms around her waist. She was dressed in black jeans and a white knitted shirt, a black ribbon holding back some of her hair, her glasses absent. "Any chance I can steal you away for a few minutes and treat you to a hot chocolate?"

His sweet suggestion elicited a smile from Kitsey, making her forget for a while how odd it was that he was up that early and standing there, in one of the library hallways. Surely there was something going on, something nagging at him. She knew him too well after so many years of dating. One way or another, she couldn't keep her fingers from gently playing with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

"My next break is in fifty minutes," she informed him.

"I can wait," Noah replied.

"All right, but no following me around like a lost puppy," Kitsey warned, her hand patting his chest.

"I promise," Noah assured her with a grin, lifting a hand in a solemn pledge. "I'll find a good book and wait like an obedient puppy in one of those armchairs."

The sound of her soft little laughter was a balm to his nerves. She was okay. She was safe. She was where she loved to be, in the library, immersed in her work amidst the comforting presence of books. 

Everything was as it should be. 

No need to worry.

Kitsey is safe.

Snippet 2: Meet Grey

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x ofc

[xtransmasc-reader-scenariosx]

Headcanons for Yamaguchi Tadashi with a Trans Male Boyfriend

Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi / Trans Male Reader + casual friendship with Tsukishima Kei Warnings: dysphoria, casual/accidental transphobia, mentions of substance use

Your relationship with Tadashi begins when you move into the house next door to his in the 3rd grade. You had been far more concerned with making friends than unpacking and latched on to Tadashi since he was the only other kid your age on the block.

A majority of your friendship was beating back bullies and getting into more fights than a "girl your age" should have. And out of all of the fights and potential injuries what bothered you the most was being called a girl.

It feels natural that you tell Tadashi first and he is supportive, even if he didn't quite understand. It was his hand in yours that gave you the courage to tell your parents, he was being your courage for a change.

You both meet Kei in middle school and it was nice, to no longer be alone in helping Tadashi find his courage.

It's Kei actually, that gives you the courage to tell Tadashi how you felt about him, rather, threatening to tell him if you didn't.

Its Kei and Tadashi that correct people about you, and Tadashi surprisingly enough that has to be held back when it turns out to be intentional. You and Kei both know he wouldn't ever win a fist fight, but you at least were still endeared that he was willing to lose if it was your honor involved.

Joining them at Karasuno is the logical next step even though you had no plans to ever set foot on a Volleyball court after how poorly it went in middle school. But you would be there to cheer on your boyfriend and your best friend every step of the way.

You had better things to do than club activities. That and while Karasuno had art classes they didn't have a specific club for it, so your afternoons were free. The days you weren't watching Tadashi and Kei practice you were tagging along with the third years from your art class.

Tadashi confronts you about the smoke he smells on your clothes, and your denial leads to your first real fight. A swirling nasty thing that devolved into a shouting match that ends with Kei acting as a go between for you two for all of a day before giving up and forcing you to sort it out yourselves.

He doesn't back down and for a change you do, agreeing to quit hanging out with that group and wait til college to see if you're still as interested in experimenting with that kind of thing when you're old enough

For the next three years Karasuno goes to the top and stands on the world stage. And every time beside the banner that says "Fly" there was a banner just for Tadashi hand made by you and different each time.

College leads you back to old habits, and Tadashi doesn't fuss quite as much this time.

You graduate and go on to be an illustrator for a sports advertiser, and Tadashi goes into sports medicine and has a list of pros from school that had most others envious.

There were times where you looked back and couldn't help but grin. You never thought persistently ringing the doorbell of the house next to yours would ever lead to this.

#hq imagines #hq x reader #haikyuu #x trans male reader #x transmasc reader #Yamaguchi Tadashi x reader #Tadashi Yamaguchi x reader #Yamaguchi Tadashi x Trans! Reader #Tadashi Yamaguchi x Trans! reader #Yamamguchi Tadashi #Tadashi Yamaguchi #xtransmasc-reader-scenariosx

[c-optimistic]

Hi there! Are you still open to 100 days of fic prompts? Wondering if you'd take a stab at Lena worrying that she and Kara are too different to be together romantically and Kara insisting that they complement each other

this is a very old prompt, from back before my relationship ended and i was trying to impress my ex with fic everyday, but i am trying to write more so here’s a little bit of angsty fluff for funsies

When she finally had the presence of mind to pull the knife wedged between her shoulder blades, the remnant of the shattered trust between herself and Kara, she’d come to an all-encompassing conclusion: there was no such thing as love.

There couldn’t be.

(Because if there was such a thing as ‘love,’ then she rather thinks Lex would’ve stayed sane, her mother would have treated the girl she raised as her own, her friends wouldn’t have left her, and Kara…Kara wouldn’t have lied.)

But as the months dragged on and forgiveness became less of a long shot and more of a question of when, her thoughts on love began to evolve. Now, Lena is a scientist. And so, after careful consideration and thorough research, she decides that the thing people call love is merely chemical reactions in her brain, associating Kara’s presence with feelings of happiness and safety. A drug, really. And like any drug, the best way to cut her dependence is to remove the drug from her life and consistently remind herself why the drug is so dangerous to her health.

(She had not reckoned for the fact that this particular drug can advocate on its own behalf, and is very much not on board with the notion of ‘quitting.’)

“I don’t really understand what you mean,” Kara says, standing in Lena’s living room in her skin tight blue suit, red cape hanging listlessly behind her, leaving very little of Kara’s curves to the imagination.

Lena has to physically shake her head, blinking furiously in annoyance at the chemicals in her brain.

“What’s so confusing?” she asks, a question she really wishes sounded angry and hurt, but comes out as confused as Kara looks. Because if she’s honest, she’s not sure she knows what she means either. Just that she can’t think with Kara so close.

“I said I love you,” Kara says, voice clear and unafraid, those three words ringing in Lena’s ears, momentarily making thoughts hard. “I said that it’s been a while since I worked my back to being friends with you. But that I want more.” She steps towards Lena, who takes several steps back, causing Kara to huff but stop. “I asked how you felt, and all you’ve done is list all the possible reasons we’re not good for each other. But that’s not an answer, Lena.”

“But listen,” Lena says, swallowing. “Have you considered that you love potstickers and I don’t?”

“I don’t really care, that just means more for me when we order in.”

Lena’s eyes narrow at the easy solution. “Okay. Fine. What about the fact that you don’t like my taste in novels?”

“Lena, I want to go out with you, not the trashy romance books you read. What does that have to do with anything?” Kara asks, clearly exasperated.

“Right, but those books give unrealistic expectations of love and romance and I—”

“—then I’ll read all your favorites and will show you love the way you want to be loved.”

Lena’s heart hammers away, and she makes the mistake of looking away briefly, trying to come up with another excuse, unsurprised when Kara is approaching her slowly—like she’s a spooked deer or a cat with trust issues—giving her ample time to move away or tell Kara off.

She does neither.

“Lena. I love you,” Kara says in barely a whisper, now only inches away from Lena. “Can you please tell me what this is all about?”

“Everyone I love and who was supposed to love me has let me down. And I…” She trails off, closes her eyes, and presses her forehead to Kara’s strong shoulder, gripping her wrists as tightly as she can. “And I don’t know if I’m broken and am unloveable or if love isn’t real and—it was hard enough after finding out you’re Supergirl. I can’t do it, I can’t lose you again. Not you too.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of Kara’s breathing intermingled with Lena’s struggle to avoid breaking down into sobs. Then, strong arms wrap around her and hold her tight, enveloping her in the scent of flowers and sunshine and warming her from head to toe.

And embarrassingly, Lena’s chemicals send a single thought through her brain: home.

“I know I let you down,” Kara says, a gentle hand shifting and then fingers threading through Lena’s hair. “And I can’t promise I’ll never let you down, because I’m not perfect. But I do promise you will never lose me. As long as you’ll have me, in whatever form that is, I’ll be right here. Okay?”

And there’s so much more to say, so much more to figure out. Lena desperately wants to say those three words back, wants to pull away just enough to kiss Kara hard enough that she can feel the way those chemicals in Lena’s brain have altered her being, wants to confess every single dark thought she’s had from the moment she found out Kara’s secret and all the lies she told.

But instead she lets out a watery laugh.

“But you have a preference in what form I’ll have you, right?” she asks, knowing the answer, knowing that her answer is the same, knowing maybe forgiveness alone isn’t enough yet for them to take that next step.

“Oh Rao, obviously I have a preference,” Kara whines as she pulls away, grinning when she catches Lena’s smile.

And Lena’s pretty sure that next step will come sooner than either of them think.

#fanfic #supercorp #asks #kara danvers #lena luthor #prompts

[bullet-prooflove]

Real: Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader

Tagging: @nu1freakshow @mortal--soul @yourwinchesterbros @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @nessamc @ritasantosworld @bl4ckt00thgr1n @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83

It’s at the first wrap party for Cara Cara that Tig seeks you out. He’s seen you around the studio before, clad in a black jeans that fit that ass of yours perfectly, ballet flats and a thin scoop shirt that hangs just right, leaving enough to the imagination. You’re the only one in the place that doesn’t have their tits or ass out, so yea, he takes notice.

At the party he keeps an eye out for you, he never gets a chance to say more than a few words to you on the day-to-day side of things, you’re constantly running round with a camera in your hand, usually up close in someone’s business. He’s not actually sure of the work you do so he asks Bobby.

“Official job is photography and videography; she works with the girls to create unique content for the website.” The other man tells him, reading through the accounts with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “That one-of-a-kind shit subscribers pay for, the stuff that doesn’t make it into the movies, special requests.”

“She ever been in front of the camera?” he asks.

“Not in the time I’ve been here.” Bobby tells Tig with a shrug of the shoulders.

That’s not a no, because the thing is, he thinks he’s seen you once. He’s got a memory for faces, that and the tattoo on your left bicep he’s caught a glimpse of a couple of times. He recognises it, it’s a unique piece. He has a thing for art and beautiful women, especially the two together.

It doesn’t take long for the party to get out of control. Booze, drugs and high-end pussy, it makes the guys a little crazy, hell, up until recently it would have made him damn right insane. He’d be the first one getting his cock sucked by that red head in the corner but he’s not here for that tonight. He’s here for you.

He finds you in one of the back offices, it’s a small space tucked in the corner of the infrastructure, away from the noise and hubbub of the party. It’s shrouded in darkness, fairy lights illuminating the coving, giving the place a sensuous glow. He knows what this is for you, a sanctuary away from the noise, his home is the same way. His life is the club, he’s there more often than not but his house… Sometimes he needs that space to breathe.

His gaze lands on the pictures you have stuck to the wall, not the usual ones you see in a porn studio but different shit in black frames, dark artwork drawn in thick pencil lines. It’s the stuff of myths and legends, he recognises Persephone, her hand holding an anatomical heart instead of the pomegranate that kept her in hell. Medusa in all her glory, stoic, beautiful and cracked, an exact replica of the piece on your left arm. The third Pandora’s jar, a vessel of smoke, death and everything else in between.

“I thought it was a box.” He says into the air between the two of you, pointing his beer bottle towards the images.

You’re perched on a roller chair in front of a desktop computer with two screens in front of you. You have Photoshop open and you’re editing the shadow on Lyla’s cleavage.

“Mistranslation by some asshole in the sixteenth century.” You tell him, before twisting in your chair to face him. “What can I do for you Mr Trager?”

You make his breath catch in his chest, those eyes of yours could bring a man to his knees. He imagines it, his hands on your hips, drawing those jeans down slowly. He doesn’t know that the fuck it is about you that captures him, but here’s something there under the surface, something a part of him recognises and wants to claim as his.

“Tig.” He corrects you, leaning against the doorframe before jerking his head towards the noise behind him. “You planning on joining the party?”

“Not my scene.” You tell him, frankly, tilting your head to one side. “If you’ve come here looking for another hole to fuck, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

“Nah.” He says, dropping down into the wheelie seat beside of you. He scoots back and forth experimentally, testing the motion of the chair. “If I wanted that I would have stayed at the party, plenty of it going on there.”

“So, what do you want?” You asked him.

Straight to the point, he liked that. He likes a lot of things about you. The way you talk to the girls in that calm, soothing voice of yours when one gets a little overwhelmed, the fact you see them as people trying to make their way through this world. The jokes you tell to set them at ease when you’re up close and personal. The professionalism you exhibited despite the fact you’ve had Ima up in your face and screaming because you’d told her her tits needed just a little more powder to take away the shine of the light. A good shoot can make or break you, you’d reminded her, holding up the camera. Get on my bad side and you can forget about all the gifts your subscribers send you.

Tig shrugged his shoulders. What does he want? It’s not the first time he’s through about the answer. The two of you have only been in the same vicinity for a handful of moments but he senses there’s something there, you’ve laughed at his jokes. He’s got a rep for being crazy, for fucking anything that moves, for trying everything once and he means everything. When you look at him, he feels like you cut through all of that bullshit and you just see him. A man, so fucking damaged that the only way for him to stay sane is to be a little crazy.

“A conversation from someone who isn’t drowning in pussy or had a cock in their mouth in the past thirty minutes.” He tells you, because truthfully that shit is getting boring.

He’s tired of fucking, he’s lost track of the women he’s given it to over the years, some of the acts he has participated in. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s a way of filling up this weird emptiness in his chest, of chasing a rush, of relieving some pressure. He’s done some extreme shit over the years chasing that high, stuff he should be ashamed of, and he isn’t. He knows there’s something broken in him, there always has been but he’s never felt as complete as when you gripped his hand when one of the set pieces took a tumble and scared the shit out of you both. The way you looked at each other and cracked up, he misses having someone to share little moments like that with.

When you laugh, it’s fucking gorgeous, like a breath of fresh air rushing through his system. It makes him feel lighter somehow, like despite all the dark shit he’s seen there’s a little bit of beauty in the world.

“So you didn’t come in here to try and fuck me?” You ask him with a twinge of humour to your voice.

He wonders if you’re disappointed by that. He doubts it, you work on a porn set with a bunch of bikers who are tapping shit left, right and centre. He has a fair idea of who’s tried to make you an offer you can’t refuse and what your response has been. He doesn’t begrudge anyone a little fun but if he’s with you, he’s wants to be the only one on your mind. The only one whose bed you’re in.

You must see something in the expression on his face, because your cheeks colour and you shift just slightly. He knows when a woman’s attracted to him, he can sense it a mile away. He’s not the type of man to mess around, he goes directly for the kill.

“Darlin’ the things me and you would do together, it would be fucking beautiful.” He tells you, bringing his chair a little closer to yours. Your knees bump, it’s the briefest touch, denim on denim but your body heat, it feels like fire on his skin. Fuck, he’s never felt anything like this before, it’s frightening but thrilling all at the same time. “I’d be so fucking good to you.”

“I like you.” You tell him, your hand coming to grip his jaw, tilting his face so that his eyes are on yours, and fuck if that doesn’t do something to him. He’s not used to being submissive like this, he doesn’t bend not to anyone, but for you he’s almost keening at the attention. It’s everything he can do not to fucking whimper. “I think you’re funny, I think you’re fierce and I think you’re loyal but I also know that you’re ostentatious and I need real.” You tell him, tapping a finger on his chest through the leather of his kutte.

“I can do real.” He promises you, his hand enclosing over yours before he gently clasps it to his cheek. His gaze meets yours as his stubble brushes over your pulse point. He sees the hues around your iris darken, your breath hitching as his lips brush over the sensitive flesh.

The way you look at him, it almost has him losing his mind.

His heart though, that’s long gone

You’d stolen it the moment you’d clasped his hand on crowded porn set.

Love Tig? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#tig trager fanfic #tig soa #tiggy #tig trager #tig trager x reader #alexander trager x you #alexander trager x reader #alexander trager soa #soa

[cuckqueanmeat]

My college friend D (true story)

I was going to college 3-4 years ago, my boyfriend at the time really liked one of the girls in my class. I'll call her D. She was tall, skinny and blonde. Naturally beautiful face, ditzy and airheaded. She had the kind of body that had even me watching her as she walked by.

To the other girls in my class, D came off a little annoying and loud, but I found her endearing and I saw she needed a friend, so I began talking to her. I really did want to befriend her but I can't lie, I found her very attractive and would stare at her when she wasn't looking. It also aroused me that my boyfriend found her extremely attractive.

There was one time we had a two hour break in between our classes. When it was time to go to the next class, we were waiting outside the classroom door when she walked up. She had changed into gym clothes, the tiniest crop top and the smallest shorts. They were so short the lower half of her ass cheeks were hanging out, I couldn't stop staring. The other girls in my class were criticizing her as she walked by us to the bathroom to change back into her uniform (our class required uniforms), I pulled out my phone so fast and started texting my boyfriend. I had the biggest crush on her.

We would invite her out to eat or go to bars with us in groups. One time, D got so drunk and was tipsily spinning around on a pole in the club we were in. My boyfriend was breaking his neck staring, I found it so hot as I watched him watch her. Me and him both thought she was so pretty, the way her body moved was mesmorizing. Her boobs weren't big, but she was in shape and her body was so slender. Her ass was tight. She ended up getting kicked out of the club, we hadn't been in the club more than 10 minutes. She was obviously drunk and also going through a breakup at the time so we as a group all made sure she got home safely, we drove her home and watched her walk into her home.

There was another time where one of our friends was having a girls only party. D had attended, she was a lightweight and got into our friend's liquor collection so she got tipsy pretty quick. We were playing party games, I had taken a video of the party and of course, D was in it. She was facing away from the camera playing some games with the other women, her figure from behind was amazing. I had posted it and my boyfriend quickly texted me and said he found that video so fucking hot because she was jumping up and down. He was telling me that he was jerking off to the video of her, it was so hot having my boyfriend getting off to my friend while I was just feet away from her.

We ended up drifting apart from D, and I eventually broke up with that boyfriend for different reasons. I still follow D on social media. I find it funny and arousing that men that follow me somehow find her account and always end up following her. I don't blame them, she's beautiful. She's ditzy and naive, but she know she's beautiful and always posts the sexiest pictures.

To this day, I still have not met another girl in real life that was anywhere near as naturally beautiful as her.

#cuckquean #voyerurism #cheating boyfriend #yes this is all true #pretty best friend #spank bank material

[cacoetheswriting]

Hello! I hope all is well. I had a fluffy request if that’s ok? Eddie x fem!reader where reader is an art nerd that likes to draw for their campaigns. One day, they’re hanging out preparing for the campaign and maybe Eddie had a run in with Jason earlier and was feeling a little down that day so then reader just starts aggressivley complimenting him out if nowhere. I really love your work! ❤️

thank youuu for this request & for your sweet words, makes my heart happy that you like my little fics ❤️ hope i did your vision justice!

-

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.6k content warnings: adult language, use of pet names, a little mutual pining, insecurities / self-doubt, mentions of bullying, mainly just fluff - very much unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

Your friendship with Eddie was an odd one — if you could even call it that. More colleagues than friends, to be honest. Or better yet, acquaintances by association.

Freaks. Geeks. Social outcasts.

There was however, one big difference.

Your status at Hawkins High was by design. A strategic decision you put into play long before you even stepped through the building doors. Growing up in a busy house with a younger brother too loud for his own good, solitude was your best friend. Art was your escape. Often you only found time for both at school. So no, you didn’t wanna socialise or try out for the cheerleading team. You were quite content being left alone.

Being neighbours with Nancy Wheeler, and your younger brothers being practically attached at the hip, helped with staying invisible ‘cause who’s gonna bully the girl that sometimes hung out with Nancy and King Steve.

Eddie unfortunately was not as lucky. His label wasn’t his choice — not at first anyway. It followed him through the years from an age arguably too young. No kid deserved to be treated the way he was simply ‘cause of how/where he was brought up. The curly-haired boy couldn’t escape the names, the teasing, the dirty looks. He couldn’t change his fate. So eventually he stopped trying. The Freak.

And perhaps that’s why he’s never fully warmed up to you. You were a fraud, not actually understanding what it’s like to be an outcast.

But it’s not like you cared what Eddie Munson thought of you or if the metalhead liked you in any way. Hanging around him was simply a means to an end. He needed someone to immortalise his D&D campaigns and you needed continuous inspiration as well as material for your portfolio.

Most of your meet-ups were surrounded by quiet.

Thinking back, that was the first mistake since it was in that congenial silence, you noticed how he sucked his lip between his teeth whenever he was deep in thought, and how he’d scrunch his brows together if what he came up with didn’t quite make sense. He was undoubtedly pretty. The faded freckles on his face are reminiscent of a million stars. The dips in his cheeks, appearing whenever he smiled, comparable to picturesque valleys. Those big brown of his eyes were like chocolate buttons and the more time you spent together, the more you thought you caught him glancing in your direction with that cocoa gaze, but that would be insane. Right?

It was also in those moments, as you drew the monsters he described in grave detail, you got to see the Eddie he so desperately tried to hide away from the rest of the world. The real Eddie. He was ridiculously smart. Not many people in Hawkins, if any at all aside from your silly little brother with his band of friends, could come up with such intricate ideas. Funny too, making you snort a laugh one too many times with practically zero effort. And he was kind. Asking you how your day was, seeming genuinely interested in your answer.

The small talk was kept to a minimum in the hours you two spent working on the campaigns, but whenever you did have a short conversation, Eddie always made sure his attention was focused solely on you. The second mistake was letting him, because being his priority, if only in the moment, made your stomach flutter.

But today Eddie hasn't uttered a single word aside from a measly hello when you opened your front door earlier that afternoon to let him in.

Normally the silence doesn’t bother you. If anything, you welcome it as it helps you concentrate on the details of any piece you’re currently working on. There was just something about the way Eddie was sitting that made you feel uneasy. He didn’t seem present. Leaning against your dresser, legs sprawled out in front of him, gaze focused on something out the window as he fidgeted with the pencil in his hand.

At first you thought maybe he was planning the next move in his new campaign and just needed a minute, but then fifteen minutes passed and the metalhead still hadn’t moved. If you didn’t know any better, you’d doubt he was even breathing. As still as a rock.

A sudden wave of concern rushes through you and without taking a second to consider what you were doing, you grab one of the pillows from your bed and throw it in his direction.

“Shit, what the—”

“Are you okay?”

Eddie’s not sure how to answer that question, especially when he looks at you. Eyes wider than normal, accompanied by delicate worry lines that he's never really been on the receiving end of — aside from Wayne's constant frown. Eddie first thinks you're clearly faking the concern 'cause why would you actually care? But the longer his gaze remains connected with yours, the more he wants to believe your sincerity is genuine. And that's fucking scary.

“Yeah,” he says eventually. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothin' you need to worry about.”

But you don't give up as easily as he hoped you would.

“Wanna talk about it?”

His lips twitch though he never actually smiles and you are certain then something definitely happened because it's as if he really wants to offer you a glimpse of happiness, but his body is refusing.

Dropping his gaze to the pencil in his hands, Eddie sighs. “You don't have to do that.”

“Do what?” You ask, stringing your brows together.

“Pretend like you actually give a shit,” he replies with a little more disdain than intended while once again catching your eyes with his own.

You don't mean to scoff, but you do. “Look, Eddie, I know we're not like best of friends or anything,”  you begin, hopping off the bed with an elegant bounce. “But considering lately I spend more time with you than Nancy or Steve, I feel like we can at least talk about shit, no? Like when something is bothering us, we can talk about that.”

He's slightly surprised at your words. The admission that you hang out with him more than your actual friends didn't seem right to him. In his mind, you and Wheeler are inseparable. He sees you two together all the time, sharing a ride to school, having lunch at the same table. And in the evenings or at the weekends, you're always around Harrington and that other girl, Buckley. Not like Eddie seeks you wherever he goes... He's just... observant.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Eddie rolls his eyes, tone full of disbelief. “You don't gotta lie to make me feel better.”

“I'm not,” you defend and sit cross-legged at his feet, knees brushing against the soles of his dirty Converse in the process. You know you don't owe him an explanation or reasoning, but it seems Eddie won't let up about what's on his mind without one. 

“Nancy and I have drifted apart since I kinda took Steve's side in their breakup. Sure we carpool and sit at the same table in the cafeteria, and our idiotic brothers are good friends, but that's pretty much it.”

Eddie starts to feel like a jerk for assuming shit when he clearly had no clue, but you don't give him a chance to interject. 

“And yeah, I see Steve often, but it's not like we're all buddy-buddy. He likes it when I stop by the video store to literally sit on the counter and draw his stupid head of hair just so he can make other girls jealous.”

“Jesus, that's shitty.”

You shrug, a small smile circling your lips. “I don't mind. Free film rental and peaceful sketching time.”

The lighthearted tone of your voice makes the corners of Eddie's mouth curl upwards, matching the expression currently present on your face. There's a semi-second of quiet. He's no longer feeling bad 'cause you've taken those worries away with one simple look. And when you knock your knee against his shoe again, Eddie's completely relaxed.

Lost in the way the sun reflects in your eyes, the metalhead doesn't really think when he asks, “So how come you've never invited me over for movie night, huh?”

You smirk. “Horrors aren't really my thing. I actually like to enjoy what I'm watching,” you tease, “Even if the shit is free. Don't wanna see any decapitations, thank you very much.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. He pulls his legs up before sliding along the carpeted floor of your bedroom until he's about a reach away from you. Closer than he's ever been. His arms make way around his legs, ring-clad fingers hanging low, poking at your calf.

Surprisingly, you don't flinch at Eddie's sudden proximity or the delicate touch.

“Quite presumptuous of you, sweetheart.” He affirms, gaze focused on where his skin brushes against the denim of your jeans.

“So you don't only watch gruesome things?” You challenge, your own fingers hesitantly reaching towards him, stopping before you can actually graze him in any way.

Eddie's smirking. “Not the point.”

“Sounds like I'm right,” you muse, your smile growing wider. “But I'll make you a deal.”

He looks up to meet your eyes then, hiking a brow. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod. “If you tell me what you were thinking about earlier, I'll let you pick a movie we can watch together. Even something horrific.”

This was uncharted territory — (and also your third mistake). The two of you have never hung out outside of working on D&D campaigns, but since Eddie asked a mere minute ago, even if he was just teasing, you figured why the fuck not. What's the worst that could happen? Plus this seemed the only way to get him to open up.

Eddie tugs his bottom lip between his teeth as he mewls over your proposal. On the one hand, talking about feelings or problems isn't something he's necessarily into. And when it comes to spending time with you, part of the allure is congenial silence, unless he's the one fishing for information. On the other hand, his heart rate has increased tenfold at the thought of you hiding in his embrace during a particularly gross scene or before any jump scare.

In the end, the physical urge to be close to you, an unmistakable desire he's been experiencing for far longer than Eddie would care to admit out loud, wins.

“Carver just got in my head.”

The instant frown on your face, and how your fingers are suddenly reaching for his, looping together, make Eddie want to elaborate.

“Called me talentless. Usually the shit that douche and his gang of imbeciles spewer doesn't bother me 'cause I've been called many things throughout my life and whatever they come up with is more idiotic than hurtful, but I dunno, that comment just rubbed me the wrong way.”

He drops his gaze, focusing instead on your hands now perfectly intertwined. He began to rub gentle circles into your soft flesh and although this was completely odd behaviour for the two of you, it felt more than right.

“Because it's not true, Eddie.”

The metalhead's heart flips at your words and the encouraging tone behind them. Although he didn’t let it show, focusing instead on the dips between your knuckles and every single crease in your skin as he squeezed your hand just a little tighter.

“You're not talentless,” you affirm, dipping your head lower in hopes of catching his brown eyes. “If anything, you're one of the most talented people I've ever met.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters, still refusing to look up.

“Eddie, you can't let those idiots make you feel worthless. You've got more talent in your left pinky than Carver and his band of bullies have put together.” You declare, rather passionately at that. “These campaigns you come up with, do you know the imagination that takes? I-I also know you play the guitar a-and sing too. Plus those extra curricular activities of yours require a mathematical brain. That's already also more talent than I have.”

He glances up at you then. “Shut up. As if you actually think I'm more talented than you?” he disputes and jerks his head towards some of the drawings covering the walls. “No one I know could do that and I know I never told you, but my campaigns would be nothin' without your art, sweetheart.”

Although heat rushes to your face at the unexpected compliment, you don't let Eddie's kind words steer you off course. This wasn't about what he thought of you, this was about what you thought of him and, as it turns out, how badly you wanted him to know.

“My stupid brother won't shut up about how fucking cool you are,” you reveal, chewing briefly on the inside of your cheek. “He's never said anything remotely as nice about me.”

Eddie lets out an airy chuckle. He drops his hold on you, but he doesn't give you a moment to even register how you instantly miss his touch, how your hands are burning with invisible imprints of where his skin brushed yours. No, because he's pushing your legs apart with little to no effort and sliding in-between them.

“Well, I happen to think you're cooler than me.”

It's your turn to laugh while again choosing not to comment on his closeness and ignoring how it made you feel. Ignoring how your stomach fluttered as he pressed his legs to your sides, hands hovering near your face as if he debated whether he was crossing some sort of line.

“Right. Don't fuck with me, Munson.”

“Cross my heart,” the metalhead promises. “Why do you think I asked you to help me out in the first place? Why do you think I willingly spend most of my afternoons with you? Like, there's no need for us to do this together. I can come up with the campaigns on my own then share the concepts so you can draw them out.”

You swallow 'cause the thought has never crossed your mind.

Before Eddie approached you with the offer, your knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons was definitely limited, only privy to whatever your brother and his friends shared. When Eddie asked you to draw something that very first time, and every time after that, you didn't stop and think if it was really necessary for you two to sit together for hours on end, crafting and creating on opposite ends of the room. Now that he's mentioned it, you really didn't need to.

“I-I don't—”

“There's no cooler chick than you, sweetheart.” Eddie interrupts, hands now cupping your face, no longer hesitant, and you're left wondering when the topic shifted from a conversation about his talents to whatever this was shaping up to be.

“Eddie...”

“How Harrington can use you to make other girls jealous instead of realising he should just ask you out, I-I don't understand.” The sentence fades with each word until his voice is a low muffle and you're not entirely sure you heard him correctly.

But every fibre of your being is screaming, so you know he definitely said it. And the way his doe-eyes are glimmering, your own reflection prominent in the pretty brown, only cinches that feeling.

Your final mistake is not asking then and there what Eddie meant.

He stands shortly after and extends a hand to also help you up.

“Speaking of, is the King of Hawkins working right now?” Eddie asks and when you nod slowly, still recovering from the small bomb he's after dropping, he claps his hands together. “Let's go then. I'm thinking we can start with My Bloody Valentine and because you're providing the entertainment, I'll get us some snacks.”

thank you for reading!

eddie munson masterlist | main masterlist

#gosh this is a lot longer than i intended it to be #twas only supposed to be a drabble eek #but I hope you enjoy <3 #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader

[hannahssimblr]

There’s an argument at the nightclub door tonight. Actually, there is an argument at the nightclub door every time I show up here without fail, because I do not possess ID. 

“Of course I don’t have ID,” I explain to the bouncer, the same guy that’s here week after week yet refuses to admit that he remembers me, “C’mon, we both know how it’s going to be, we can do this silly little dance for two to three minutes and you’re going to let me in.”

“You’re too drunk.”

He’s right. “Look,” I sigh, “I’m here with girls, nice girls. Lovely girls and they’d like to come in too, wouldn’t you like for them to come in?” I cup the chin of Alison next to me, who theatrically bats her eyelashes and juts out her bottom lip, “Please,” she says, “we’re all so lovely and nice.”

The bouncer shuffles from one foot to the other, checking over his shoulder, and I know we’ve won. These men have a problem with underage boys coming into their clubs, but girls? The more girls the better. It doesn’t matter if they’re seventeen. 

“Go in,” He says through clenched teeth, “and no hassle from you tonight, you hear me?”

“What?” I say loudly as we pass, “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. Anyway, bye.”

The club is vibrating, strobe lights flash and music pumps so loudly that I can’t hear what anyone is saying. I think Alison is talking to me, at least her mouth is moving, so I lean in closer and bellow into her ear, “What?”

“I was singing,” she screams back, “I just like this song!”

Everyone around us is shrieking at one another too, either that or swaying exotically against each other on the dancefloor, college aged girls all wearing the same shoes, men in the same shirts. In one fleeting, sober moment I look around me, at the clouds of dry ice, feel the floor sticking to my shoes and wish I was hanging out with Jen and watching TV instead. The moment ends abruptly as soon as Fitzy from rugby throws himself onto my back and starts chanting “shots, shots, shots!”

“Yeah, okay shots,” I say, attempting enthusiasm, “fuck it. Anything but tequila.” 

As per my request we avoid tequila and we do some sort of hideous rainbow shot instead. I think that we are supposed to be impressed by the way the bartender pours it out, ten shot glasses in a line, each one of them a different colour, poured from the same nozzle. “You shouldn’t have bothered with that whole thing, they’ll all be down us in one second,” I tell him, but he doesn’t hear me. 

We dance for a while, or at least we try to as a dozen secondary school kids without a shred of poise or grace to share between us, and mostly we just leap around the place and do stupid moves so that we cannot be accused of earnestly trying, and open ourselves up to the risk of real humiliation. 

When Fitzy spots some girl he likes the look of, I try to force him to go and talk to her, but we won’t. He says he needs more shots for that, which is probably true because he’s a bit awkward, so I reckon Fitzy needs a few shots to get most things done. Maybe it’s a sign that one day he’ll be an alcoholic, but I try not to think about things like that when I’m jumping around on a crowded dance floor, it’s neither the time nor place for existential dread. 

“Puh puh puh poker face puh puh pokerface” Alison sings as she dances around me, “Can't read my, can't read my no he can't read-uh my poker face....”

Alison knows the lyrics to everything. Even songs that I’m only just hearing for the first time, and I don't know how. Either she listens to this kind of thing in her spare time or she just has an amazing memory. It’s an interesting and charming detail about her. She's a good dancer too, even when she's just being silly, and I've often noticed the way that other girls copy her moves, looking to her for choreography whenever she's on the dance floor.

“Oh, ohh oh oh, ohhh oh,” She vocalises, “I’ll get him hot, show him what I got…”

I smile at her, “What’ve you got, Alison?”

Her hand curls around my neck as she pulls my ear to her mouth, “MDMA, if you want it.”

“Ha! Where’d you get that?”

“Someone at school.”

“Yeah? What else do you have?”

She laughs, “Do you think I’m a pharmacy? C’mere,” She takes my hand and leads up away from the dancefloor, up a set of carpeted stairs and to a quieter landing near where the toilets are. We sit on a fancy little couch that is coated in years of filth while she digs through her little handbag. 

“Look, I’ll tell you the entire contents, a few pills, I’ve a little weed, three pretty squashed cigarettes, um, oh, a small bit of bag.”

“Oh, bag. I’ll take the bag.”

“Expensive taste, yeah?” She chuckles, “And you know, the idea of you on cocaine is like some kind of nightmare to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“You don’t need it babe, you’re already annoying enough.”

I gasp, “You’re awful, how can you say that?” but quickly give up acting offended and peer into the depths of her little quilted purse. My mother once told me to never, under any circumstances, go through a woman’s handbag but I honestly don’t think that rules like that apply to me.

I discover the saddest looking bag of cocaine I’ve ever seen and change my mind. “Fine, I’ll take the MDMA, but only because you insist.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I'll do it if you do it.”

“I know it's not your favourite...”

“Nah, no, come on, nobody should do pills on their own, that breaks my heart,” I hold out my hands like I’m receiving holy bread, and she tips one out of the little bag for me. 

“Hey,” I rest my neck against the back of the couch, “We could do it the way those old ladies do at mass, yeah? Put it right on my tongue.”

Alison snickers, “I thought you were protestant. Have you even been to a mass?”

“No but please, I know how it goes,” I stick out my tongue while she delicately places a pill onto it. It starts dissolving straight away, the bitter chemical taste makes me wince and I wonder, just like I do every time I do this, whether it’s really worth it. They make these pills look so tasty with their bright colours and funny little imprints, but they're not exactly flavourtown.

“Are you single at the moment?” Alison wants to know, and I nod, grimacing as it goes down, “Yeah, why?”

“I knew it, you know why? Because you act like an unstable person when you are. You seem unwell at the moment.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, though it’s fine.”

I look into her eyes, the blue of the sky before rain, and allow my pathetic feelings trickle in for a second. Sometimes I feel as though there is some crucial, working piece of me that’s been plucked out, leaving all of the other parts churning aimlessly like a clock with a missing cog, hands twitching desperately, uselessly, unable to move forward. I don’t think I like to be alone, in any sense. I think I need other people to feel complete, and I don’t know why that is.

I brush my fingers lightly along the side of Alison’s thigh, “And you?” I say softly, “are you single?”

“Yes, Jude.”

“Will you kiss me, then?” 

Alison, when she kisses me, feels holy. She’s like a shrine whose feet I weep at, begging for healing. She and I, this is how we are, this is the cycle we repeat, when I’m lonely, when she’s lonely and we find ourselves in purgatory. She doesn’t want more from me than this, than this shallow kissing, masquerading as something with depth, and sex, sometimes, when we can find a place to have it. I shouldn’t want more either. I don’t think I really do, not if I’m honest with myself, but sometimes I want to ask her why not. Maybe she’s confusing on purpose. Maybe she just likes to punish men. I think that it’d be fair enough if she did. We as a collective have mostly been cruel to her.

“Are you going to bring me home?” She murmurs, and I tuck her wavy red hair behind her ears, “Not as long as I share a wall with my eight year old sister.”

“Oh, not ideal. Where can we go?”

“I think all of our options are outside.”

“Fuck sake, and it’s freezing. Why aren’t you ever around in the summer?”

“Sorry, but look, I’m going to start learning to drive soon. Once I have a car I’ll have a decent place to take you.”

She laughs, “A car?”

“Yeah,” I clutch our hands together and hold them to my heart. It’s thumping now that I am coming up, “Alison, when I get a car, I’ll ride you in the passenger seat any day of the week.”

“Jesus Christ,” she groans, and buries her face in my neck, “That’s the most romantic thing a guy has said to me in ages. How depressing is that?”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #tbh I know she's not Evie #but I love Alison #she's great #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: sex mention #tw: religion #tw: blasphemy

[love-hatred-stuff]

solo [sequel shot]

》 alright so I know it's starts off rough but this is for those who needed a happy end for my fic "solo"

Enjoy my babiesss :3 ♡

"Come on. Please tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it."

"I'm wrong, James! I was wrong and that isn't your fault. I just don't wanna hang out anymore." A few tears slipped past your eyelids. You were devastated and you knew this day would come. You knew one day he'll find someone that's better than you. Not as broken as you. More useful as a partner in a relationship and not someone who ruins fucking everything.

You were truly heartbroken. But you tried to be happy for him and you were actually. It stung nonetheless, seeing him with another girl that seems to be so put together, so emotionally available. Complete opposite of you and you guess that's why it hurt even more. Him picking someone who is the exact opposite personality type of yours, not to mention someone who looks completely different from what you looked like. It underlined your deepest fear, him actually prefering everything that doesn't represent you.

The thought that had held you together for the past years had suddenly lost its meaning, the thought that he loved you more than anyone else, his promise to be always available for you, vanished, broken. You tried to understand, but it was more than just hard to comprehend.

"But why won't you tell me the reason!?" Bucky was crushed when he heard from you that you can't see each other anymore privately, that he had to forget about you and your close friendship. Because what you didn't know, was that he still loved you, he never stopped. He had never found someone better than you because for him someone like that doesn't even exist. Bucky only ever wanted you to be his, the person he's been in love with for the past two years, the one that he can't help but feel the need to take care of.

"I can't just say 'yeah okay, I won't bother you anymore' to my best friend of so many years I've lost count! You're not just a friend to me, y/n. You're everything I have. You're the only person that truly knows me." James wiped his mouth in desperation. He couldn't loose you. He'd stop breathing.

"Yeah, clearly not." You mumbled under your breath.

"What was that?" He didn't quite catch that.

"James, you know how I am. I'm selfish, manipulative and stubborn. I can't look at your face anymore. Not while knowing you're thinking of someone else while looking a me."

Buckys eyes widened. Only now realising what was going on.

"Why would I do that? I only ever think of you. My brain doesn't even know what to think of otherwise. Would you mind to explain what or who got you thinking this way?" He k ow demanded further explanation.

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore. I'm gonna head home." Was the only answer you gave him, taking your bag, ready to leave him the fuck alone with his new girl.

"I think the fuck not." Bucky walked in front of you, blocking your way.

Now it was your turn to be surprised. He never talked to you like this. He barely cursed.

"I really should though, I don't wanna take away your quality time with someone else." It may have sounded childish but you meant it. You didn't wanna take away his chance to find and enjoy love. You've done that enough the past years.

"What are you even talking about? I don't have anyone else to spend my time with, are you kidding me?" He was endlessly confused.

This was the last straw, now you were getting angry. He should stop acting like he wasn't meeting up with this girl that he met at a party. You were fucking there when they introduced each other. And you were convinced he had already slept with her. Though you wouldn't blame him, as she really was gorgeous, not only that, but she seemed genuine, too. A real catch.

"Are you kidding me?! James, stop acting like there's nothing between Anna and you! I know there is, I have eyes, you know. Besides, Steve always tells me how much you talk, not only with her but also about her. And knowing that makes me sick! I want you to be happy, and if that happiness doesn't require me, I'm fine with that, but I don't wanna watch you fall in love with her! I just can't, okay? So my decision is to avoid you two so I don't have to look at it any fucking longer, or else I'll go insane!" That's it. That's all you had to say. It was more than you intended to but at least you've got it out.

Bucky just stood there, completely baffled, speechless. He couldn't believe it.

You've tried to shove him out of your way, but he didn't budge.

"If you aren't gonna say anything, can I leave?" You groaned, feeling vulnerable now that he knew your heart.

"So you are telling me, you're jealous of Anna? Of someone who'll always be more interested in you than me?" Your heart began to race.

"Are you implying that she isn't into guys?" You wanted to make sure, not quite getting his point.

Bucky nodded calmly.

"Yeah, she's into you though." He replied.

"Oh my God!" You scoffed, embarrassed by yourself, looking anywhere except his eyes.

"I really thought you liked her. I thought you two were hooking up. I'm so sorry for misinterpreting this, James."

"Quit with the 'James'. You were jealous, weren't you?" He nudged you.

"I guess I was." You nodded shyly.

"Does that mean that- that you like me?" His cheeks getting rosy, you looked up at him.

"Of course I like you, dork!" You laughed, but he sighed.

"No I mean; really like me. As in you're in love me?" Bucky was unsure and scared asking this, but it was time to make this confession.

You looked away, your smile turning into something more vulnerable.

"I don't know? I just want you to myself. I want you to only take care of me, no one else. You're only boy I would let sleep in my bed next to me. And over all I guess I wouldn't mind being more than just a friend to you."

Bucky gently stroked your tear stained cheek, looking lovingly into your eyes.

"You've always been more than a friend to me Y/n. If you let me, I would like to call you my girlfriend and not just my best friend. Because hell, I fucking am in love with you!" He leaned in and let his lips softly touch yours for the first time. It was even better than he imagined it to be.

You two kissed for the following ten minutes without having to take a break. When he carefully let go of your lips to breath, he leaned his forehead against you and sighed once again, this time in utter happiness.

"So what do you say? Will you finally be mine?" His voice sweet and so full of love, just like the kiss you had shared.

"I don't know, what did you say? Anna likes me, yeah?" You joked, giggling into his chest.

He laughed along with you.

"Don't you dare." Bucky smiled, giving you another kiss.

He knew he wouldn't ever be able to get enough of the girl he was now finally allowed to call his.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky moodboards

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Eddie, rockstar, who goes on tours and gets raunchy letters from his fans. it also happens to make his wife jealous. she decides she's gonna show him how much better she is than some stupid explicit fan mail 🤷 or something i know that's specific

omg I love this!!! And who doesn’t love rockstar Eddie 😍

I got a little excited with this one so I wrote a fic about it :p

I was thinking about doing something smutty but tb him a little burnt out with smut since its all ive focused on writing for the last couple of months and it's been pretty difficult to work on since I’m constantly around people

But I hope you enjoy this!

No Exceptions

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines, @esme-viridian, @munsonology

Word Count- 1.5k

You glanced over at Eddie laid on his bed in the back of the tour bus as you heard him try to hide a little giggle. He and the other guys were in their separate quarters, opening and reading all the fanmail they had been sent over the last few weeks. 

Being a rockstar was a lot different than they had imagined it would be.

They thought it would be nothing but parties, girls, drinking and getting high whenever they pleased while just being able to hang out and jam for work. Instead it was full of long days of music writing and practicing, long drives to new venues, and barely any time for girls and weed. But Eddie didn’t need any other girl by his side while he had you. 

You always trusted him while they were out on the road, he wasn’t the type to cheat or lie to you, but usually the gigs they had were only a state away. A few hour drive maximum. This was the first time they were supposed to have a show nearly halfway across the country. And Eddie insisted you go along with them.

He was so happy that he was finally living his dream of being a rockstar, and with all the support you always gave him he wouldn’t dare want to experience this without you. The guys had no protests to him bringing you along, they loved having you around and always treated you with kindness and respect. Not to mention you could help find them the perfect girls while they’re out on tour. 

But over the last few hours the only stops they’ve made were at truck stops, gas stations, and fast food joints. Now they were just doing their own thing after getting a little bit of cabin fever and starting to get sick of constantly being around one another. They knew that was inevitable, especially being stuck on a cramped bus for hours on end, but for now they were all occupied with reading the dozens of letters they had gotten from their fans. 

They were excited to read them all and see all the wonderful things their fans had to say about them, not to mention how excited Gareth, Jeff and Grant got when they saw how many girls were DYING to see them and detailing all of the things they’d love to do if they ever got the chance. Eddie on the other hand always laughed at the letters he got that said things like that. 

Though Corroded Coffin was still a newer up and coming band, they had their own little group of fans that knew all about you and Eddie. 

You were that little groups power couple and they adored it whenever they saw you at a show, cheering on your man from right up front on the stage or watching him with loving eyes from backstage. Unfortunately, like all fanbases, there were a few girls who thought they would be able to steal Eddie away from you. Those were always his favorites. And lucky for you, he was giggling at the latest one he had just opened.

“What’re you giggling at?” You asked him with a smile before taking the letter from his hands and reading it to yourself, not being able to control the giggles in between nearly every word,

“’If I had the chance to spend just one night with you, I’d show you how insignificant that little groupie is and let you see what a real woman can do’?” You nearly burst out laughing just from reading it. 

“Wait, you didn’t even read the best part, look down at the bottom.” Eddie said in a fit of giggles as you laid next to him on his bed. 

You glanced down at the end of the letter and you could feel the tears start to prick the corners of your eyes,

“’From your most devoted fan, Sandra Murphy. P.S. I may be 44 but I promise I have the stamina of a 20-year-old.’” 

The two of you were laughing so hard your stomachs were hurting.

“I think she might have a better shot at Wayne than with me…” Eddie said as he tried his best to calm himself.

Those were always your favorite types of letters.

It had nothing to do with their age, how many shows they’ve been to, or how many times they’ve met the boys after a show, there was always that one handful of people who thought that no matter what they would be the one exception Eddie would make during your marriage They somehow assumed that he wanted anyone other than you. And that meant one of two things:

Eddie would ignore the letter and keep it in his collection of favorites, pulling it out whenever he needed a good laugh, or,

He would let you write back to them if they started to get threatening and always made sure to include a polaroid of the two of you.

He had his own little collections of all those letters.

He always kept all the letters from the fans that told him how much they looked up to him and all the little kids that would write to him and say how they wished they could be a rockstar just like him when they grew up. Letters from parents saying that his music was corrupting their children and turning them into satanic savages. Letters from crazed fans who were absolutely obsessed with him (those ones were usually put into a shredder). And of course, his favorites, the letters written to him by all the girls that thought with enough convincing they could get Eddie to leave you for them.

This one was definitely getting saved.

You slowly were able to calm yourselves down, a sharp turn made by the bus that almost knocked you both off the mattress was a big help for stopping the giggles, but you just couldn’t help it.

“I don’t know Eds, she sounds pretty convincing.” You said to him as you handed him back the letter, 

“Think you’re gonna take her up on her offer? I mean, I don’t want to step in between you and your ‘most devoted fan’.”

Eddie finished his giggles and tossed the letter away onto the floor as he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in close to him, the both of you secured on the bed to keep you from nearly tumbling off again,

“Oh please, its not the first letter I’ve gotten like that and it definitely won’t be the last,” He held you close to him, arms draped around your waist as your arms went around his neck, his lips sweetly kissing you as your bodies shook from another bump in the road, “and like I said, she seems more like Waynes type than mine…” 

You giggled once more and kissed him back, your hand moving up to gently hold the back of his head, your fingers carefully tangling into his soft curls,

“Maybe you should do him a favor and let him be the one to write back to her. You never know, they might really hit it off.”

Eddie smiled,

“You know, you’re right. I might have to give him a call at the next stop.”

“You’re gonna call him at the next stop no matter what!” You lightly slapped his chest, “You said you would call him at the last stop to check in and you never did! That was almost three hours ago Eds.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll call him when we get to the next stop.” Eddie raised his hand up, “Scouts honor.”

“Sweetie, you were never a scout, you can’t keep saying that.” You said with another giggle at your lips.

“Hey, if no one knows, it doesn’t hurt anything.”

You smiled with one another as you lay in bed, holding each other close in your arms as the gentle rocking of the bus was starting to lull you both off to sleep. It had already been such a long drive, and you knew you had a long while to go until you reached your destination. A nap couldn’t hurt anything. Eddie could always wait a little longer to call Wayne, he knew he’d be alright. 

For now, all he wanted to do was enjoy the scene unfolding around him.

Laying in bed with the woman he loved, on a tour bus with his best friends on their way to a new gig at a new venue in a new place. He was finally living out his dream and though he knew there was always a price to pay when it came to fame and fortune, specifically having to give up the freedom of his personal life, but as long as it meant he got to spend the rest of his days with you it didn't matter.

All those fangirls would get from him is seeing how much he loved and adored you.

And being able to show you off to everyone he could was his favorite part of his new rockstar life.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

[ellatoone7]

Ibiza (Ella Toone x Reader)

When Ella had first suggested a holiday to Ibiza you were skeptical, you had celebrated so much the past few days you didn't know if it was a good idea to go to a different country and get drunk all over again.

You went to Ibiza, Ella made sure it was the best holiday if your entire life and god it was. You woke up next to your favourite girl, preferably naked if it was an extremely good night then just relaxed in the sun for hours.

Leah had also came and that was just the icing on the cake, you embraced your best friend for what felt like hours when you saw her first.

Calvin Harris was playing one of the nights and the girls got VIP tickets, you were squashed in between your girlfriend and your best friend.

Afterwards you decided to go to a club, not wanting the night to end. Plus you knew it was one of the last nights the girls could let loose before their respective seasons started.

You and Leah chatted over the loud music as Ella and Alessia talked up at the bar waiting for their drinks. You caught Ella's eye and she gave you a small wink making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"You are so sickeningly in love with each other." You were pulled out of your trance when you best friend spoke up. You scoffed and nudged her arm, "Oh, yeah? Cause I didn't have to watch you and Jordan eye fuck each other across the room for years!”

Leah's face heats up immediately and you giggle as she punches your shoulder playfully. You both chat about your respective partners, you knew Leah was gutted her girlfriend had to miss out but as usual put on a brave face.

You respected Leah so much, not only had she captained her country to a European trophy but also remained calm, cool and collected and never once let the pressure get to her.

You knew the girls adored her, Ella looked up to her not that she would ever admit it. You couldn't be prouder to call her your best friend and you hoped she knew that.

A warm arm slips around your waist as Ella slides into the booth next to you, placing your favourite drink in front of you. You thank her with a peck on her cheek while her fellow teammates gag.

Ella just shrugs too happy to even think about telling them off, she has a European medal hanging around her neck and her favourite human being wrapped up in her arms.

After a few drinks you drag Ella to the dance floor, she puts up a fight but eventually caved in when you pull your puppy eyes, Leah makes fun of her for being whipped and she couldn't even deny it.

You turned around as her arms snaked around your stomach, she pushed her body as close as it could possibly be, you cup her face from behind as she rests her chin on your shoulder.

"You are the most gorgeous person here, you know." Her Manchester accent thick as she whispers in your ear, you melt into her as she places sloppy kisses against your neck.

The vibe suddenly changes as a slow song comes on, Ella spun you around so you were facing her. You placed your arms around her shoulders as she held your hips.

You smile gently as you watch the medal she hasn't taken off once sway along with her, you gently hold the medal swiping a thumb over the gold as she watches you.

"I'm so proud of you, El." Ella holds you tighter and pulls you closer as she leans her forehead against yours, her heart overwhelmingly full with so much love she's scared it might burst right there in her chest.

"It's all for you, everything I've done since the day we met has been for you." Ella whispers softly as she pushes a stray piece of hair from your face behind your ear. One of your hands wrap around her bicep making sure she was real.

You lean your head against her shoulder as she kisses your temple, Ella gently sway the two of you for a few more minutes. "I've never felt safer in your arms." Ella's grip tightens around you as you lean back to kiss her gently.

"I can't believe I let a Man United player steal my heart, younger me would be so disappointed." Ella laughs loudly kissing your face all over as you squirm in her arms.

"A diehard Arsenal fan and a diehard Man United fan, huh? Who would've thought?" You chuckle kissing her neck sweetly until she spins you around once more quickly pulling you back into her embrace for a searing kiss.

"I love you, El." The pure adoration in her eyes nearly knock you out as she stares at you still gently swaying, out of the corner of your eye you could see Leah and Alessia looking over with soft smiles on their face while snapping pictures of the two of you.

"I love you, always have and always will." You tuck your face into her neck as she chuckles at the blush on your cheeks.

You stay on the dance floor in the club slowly swaying even while upbeat songs blast through the speakers. It would always be just you and Ella.

#ella toone #forever love our future DJ in Ibiza #ella toone imagines #ella toone imagine #ella toone x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #muwfc x reader #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #woso #muwfc

[courtingchaos]

Rent the Space Inside My Mind

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: This is quite the eventful day your both having, huh? I wonder what winter wonderland delights await you in the evening.

A/N: Ha ha ha this took so long oh my god. I'm still not happy with this, but it is what it is. The format is a little funky but it's because this was written in chunks and also frankensteined together a bit. I do hope everyone has fun though! I'm almost done with the next part, mainly because this was such a struggle and I ended up writing ahead of myself. Thank you my lovelies!

Warnings: Nothing I can think of, just a little self love ;) still 18+ minors g t f o please

The dim blues of the too early morning paint the wall, a small patch of pink sunlight glinting off the tacks holding up the posters there. It’s 6am, a whole hour before you’d normally be up but you’d gone to bed late and it’s bled through with a night of restless sleep. Those first couple of bleary minutes the only time your brain feels quiet and still. 

The chill of the morning lingers, tips of your fingers cold where you groggily try to move your arms and hands to warm them up against your stomach under your shirt. 

It’s when the grogginess is gone but you’re eyes haven’t adjusted to the light that you start the little patterns, dragging your finger tips over your skin and slowly inching the hem of your t-shirt up. Under the blanket is warm and you wiggle in further to tuck your nose below the edge of the comforter. Fingers continue their featherlight dance across your ribs, pulling goosebumps up along their wake and in the quiet alone you have for another hour, you can pretend they’re not your own. 

Heavier, bigger. Thumbs calloused, rough where they drag just under the swell of your breast and the shiver runs right up the back of your neck, over the crown of your head. A little sigh and one hand roams lower, splayed wide and flat against the soft skin of your belly. Traces over your hip and up your thigh where it digs into the supple skin there, pulls it out and down towards the bed. The hand still at your chest pulls up on the shirt to get a handful of your tits, rolls the already hard nipple between thumb and forefinger earning a low gasp from you. 

Haven’t even gotten to the good part yet. 

You’d asked Eddie once, jokingly, just what he was doing to keep these girls around. 

“Need pointers?” He’d laughed when you’d pushed his shoulder. Shrugged all cool and casual, chewing on the straw of his drink for moment.

“Got a talent for eating out.” A smug grin across his face when you’d coughed, choking on the sip you’d just taken. 

“What, too crass? Are you blushing?!”

That had turned into a night of secret spilling and Eddie finding out you’d slept with some ‘real fuckin’ losers’, his opinion.  

“So they just like, never offered?”

“No? Why would they? We were already fucking.” You’d mumbled that into the worn cushion of the couch, face down to hide your embarrassment. 

“Because it’s fun?”

Fun. 

He’d said it was fun. 

Head buried between thighs and mouth searching, hands grabbing. 

Hands that move from the inside of your thigh to your underwear to slide under the band and dip right into the heat of you, running lazy fingers through your folds, dipping lower to tease and gather slick to pull back up and right over your clit. Your head slides to the edge of your pillow and you let it hang over the short edge while a string of curses float out of you. 

You imagine him in a dozen different ways. Hovering over you, laying kisses from your cheek down your neck and finally to your chest. Nipple between teeth while he buries his fingers deep in you. 

Or leaned back on his heels, watching himself spread you open while he lazily jerks off, heavy cock twitching in his palm, whispering all the things your desperate to hear him say. 

Mostly you picture his halo of curls, laying soft across your lap. Thick fingers dug into the meat your thighs pulling you closer to his face, keeping you pinned to the bed. Tongue hot while he runs the point of it through your folds, smiling against you when that sigh escapes you again. 

The slow circles you’ve been working over yourself speed up, hand still kneading your breast and you hone in on the things you are familiar with. 

The heat of him standing close. How his hands feel against you. The smell of clean laundry and smoke and whatever the hell deodorant he wears. That impish grin with his stupid dimples bracketing his pink lips. His mouth that never fucking stops. All the little personal ways he hangs around your life you play on repeat. 

The white noise of quiet in your room turns to ringing in your ears, drowns out the pathetic little whines and moans falling out of you. The heat that’s been building low finally breaks, burns up through your abdomen and licks up your spine. A breathy sigh of “Eddie” and the heat hits your face, the blush creeping in fast enough to make you feel lightheaded. 

There’s a few minutes where you’re locked up, knees pulled in tight together and back arched up off the bed while you come back down to earth. 

Under the covers is still warm. Your limbs are pliant now. Your brain is buzzing and awake. 

The clock is loud when it goes off next to your head, pulling you out of any kind of daze you were lingering in. A sigh puffs the blanket up around your face and you ignore the knot of guilt starting to form under your ribs. 

Cold bites through your open coat while you dig around the inside pockets for your zippo. The two of you are close, leaned up against the front of Eddie’s van to absorb the left over heat. 

“I think I left it at home.” You look up and he flicks his lighter to life in front of you, grinning over the flame. 

“Figured.” 

Cupping your hand around it to shade it from the wind gives you a little kiss of warmth from the fire. The early morning sun warming the back of your neck where it peaks out of the clouds. The van warming your thigh through your jeans. It’s cozy, this little moment. A breath in and a puff of smoke escapes your lips. Eddie pockets his lighter but doesn’t lean away so you stay close too and ask him if he actually did his homework for English. Share the cigarette between the two of you, foggy breath and smoke mingle with your voices while he tells you about his essay. 

“It’s probably fine, I got wordy again, you know how O’Donnell feels about that. Figure I can scrape a C out of it.”

“Just a C?”

“She fuckin’ hates me.” He laughs and you let your eyes wander over his smile, watching the cigarette move in the corner of his mouth. “You wanna see it?” He’s digging through his bag where it’s propped on the small hood. 

“Yeah, lemme see it.” 

His fingers brush yours again when you grab for the smoke and you think about your early morning solo tryst. You cast your face down briefly so he doesn’t catch the stupid little grin on your face. He’s unaware when he fishes out his notebook and flips it open for you to glance at. You scan the page fast, it looks like yours and honestly, he might slide a B out of this. 

Maybe. 

“I think this was just busy work before break, so you might get lucky.” 

“For once in my life.” He scoffs and you let out a sour little laugh. 

Oh, just once?

“What?”

“Aren’t you always getting lucky?” 

“Oh come on.” His grin is shy and he reaches out and snatches the cigarette right out of your mouth, earning him a gasp. 

“Excuse me?” You slap at his chest and mange to push his shoulder away from you but he’s planted firmly in place. He raises his eyebrows at you, still grinning and laughing. Another little push and you hold your hand out, waiting for him to drop the cigarette back between your fingers. 

“It’s not all the time.” 

“Oh only when she sends out the call to arms?” 

Eddie just sighs at you. Shakes his head and takes one last pull before handing the cigarette back. Around a mouthful of smoke he says, “You can kill it.” He gathers up his bag, stuffing the notebook back in and starts to turn around the corner of the van. 

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to upset you.” You’re voice is small behind him and your tug on his bag slung over his shoulder makes him pause to look back at you. “I was just teasin’.”

“I’m not upset, I promise.” His expression is soft. 

“Come on, I don’t want O’Dick bitching at me for being late too.” He flicks his head toward the front of the school, setting off again and you stub out the smoke, hot on his heels. 

Her footsteps are light in the crunch of the gravel walking over the trail that leads out to the picnic table in the woods. Normally she tries to not meet him during school, just sneaking over to his van after the last bell before anyone can see. Today though she’d slipped a note in his locker when the hallways were dead. 

‘Picnic during 3rd?’

She’s not embarrassed to be seen with Eddie. Well, not exactly. He’s just not her type per se, if he’s anyone’s really. She just doesn’t want to be seen with him is all. It’ll cause a fight and everyone will talk and that’s the last thing she needs, especially if Mark is actually trying to ask her to prom.

Look. Eddie is just…Eddie. He’s loud and obnoxious and arrogant and always smells like cigarettes and his hair is too long and and and-

And what. 

He’s a nice guy. He didn’t make fun of her like her teammates when she didn’t even know how to smoke. He’d talked her through how to roll it, how to smoke it, how to hold her breath in till it didn’t hurt. All smiles and small talk and by the end of it they were something like acquaintances. 

So back she went, another $30 in hand, to the picnic table in the woods and he’d been all jokes again. Asked if she needed help again. Made her feel comfortable again. 

And then he had to go and ask her out. 

Not out-out. He knew better than that. This was one of those quiet things that she’d heard some of the other girls talk about. 

Fool around when parents aren’t home kind of thing. 

Date with the back of his van kind of thing. 

A little stoned stargazing and wandering hands at the lake kind of thing. 

Still, she’d said no. She didn’t want secondhand dates, she wanted Mark and his first class ones. 

Mark and Gwen. Gwen and Mark. 

But Mark hadn’t said anything yet, all she had were the cheer teams whispers and her own intuition to go on. 

(Maybe she did want those dates.)

Cornering him at his van, angled so no one could see her, she’d gone back on her own promise. 

“Does that offer still stand?”

Of course it did, and she was sure he could draw a map from memory of her room by now. Eddie was fun because he was nice and because he was different but she could see the pit just in front of her now. How easy it’d be to say fuck it and walk him out in public in front of everyone. Show him off to all her teammates and turn her nose up at anyone who scoffed. Take a swan dive right into the dark depths of that chasm. Eddie was nice and he was good, and he was very nice and very good to her. He could be her little trailer park boyfriend and when she would inevitably ship off to Barnard next year she could drag him with her to New York and then!

And then? What? That pit again. Eddie was good and nice but he was what, a drug dealer? A failing senior? A trailer park kid with a dad in jail and a dead mom? Eddie was a pit. 

Mark’s mom was a librarian downtown and his dad was a property lawyer for Harrington Development. He lived in Loch Nora, two streets from her own home. He didn’t even smoke weed, that’s how committed he was to basketball and making varsity. He was gonna go to Purdue and be a Boilermaker. 

Gwen stops short when the table comes into view and she sees the back of your head, dark locks spilling onto the splintered wood. 

“Oh.” It falls from her mouth before she can really think and you spin around, eyes wide and cigarette hanging from your lips. 

“Hey! Uh are you-“

“Did Eddie send you?” Gwen’s gripping the straps on her backpack in an attempt to stop her stomach from plummeting. Did he send you out here to…to what? Beat her up? She’s heard about your temper and how short your fuse is and-

“What? No, this is my free period I just snuck out to smoke.” You’re up now, holding the cigarette in front of you as evidence. Gwen unwinds a little. “I didn’t know you two were meeting out here, sorry. I’ll make myself scarce.” You shoot her a tight smile and go to grab your stuff, ready to head back the way she just came. 

“Wait, please?” 

You pause, eyebrows raised in question. 

“Can I…ask you something? Or talk?” She doesn’t even know what she wants to say to you. Gwen’s interactions with you have been third party through Eddie and she’s gotten the vibe that she wasn’t quiet popular with you or the rest of the gang. 

“Sure.”

“You and Eddie aren’t like-“ 

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” You hold a hand up to her. You look annoyed and now she’s starting to feel it too. 

“I’m just asking.”

“I know, and I’m telling you. We’re not an item, never have been. Just friends.” You’ve shifted back to sitting, this time facing her, leaned forward on your arms. Gwen keeps watching the cherry on the cigarette your fiddling with between your clasped hands like it’s keeping her focused. “I get what it looks like but he doesn’t-we don’t feel that way about each other.” Her eyes snap up to yours and she swears she can see a hint of panic in the crease of your forehead. 

He doesn’t he doesn’t he doesn’t. 

Gwen nods lightly and makes for the opposite bench. A long sigh escapes when she sits down before looking up at you again. 

“I know you don’t really like me.”

“I never said-“

“Let me finish. I know Eddie’s canceled some plans with you guys because of us and that isn’t going to win me any favors. I also know y’all aren’t stupid. You know what this is. I’m not part of your little group of misfits. He’s your friend first, I get it, and I’m not…I’m not his girlfriend,” another big sigh and she shakes her head to clear it, “and I-I don’t want to be.” 

Oof. 

The silence sticks like the snow clinging to the roots around the trees out here. Gwen is still looking at you, looking for a response. Anger maybe, on behalf of your friend who’s being used. Sadness or jealousy even, over something you’ll never have with him. What she’s not expecting is the loud laugh you bark out. Loud enough to startle a bird out of the tree near you two. You take a long drag and rub a hand over your eyes. 

“Listen, Gwen. I don’t hate you, but you don’t belong here.” You gesture at the space between the two of you. “That little confession isn’t news, did you think Eddie was trying to go steady with you?” There’s no cruelty in your voice and that stuns her more than if there was. 

“I-I mean-“

“Sorry I know how that sounds, but Eddie? This isn’t his first time playing this game with your type. You guys fool around for a while and then you dump him when prom rolls around, or some jock finally notices you and takes you on a real date.” It’s so matter of fact, like you’d read her mind on the walk over. 

Am I that transparent?

“I mean, he’s like king of the nerds around here and still pulling cheerleaders. Do you really think he cares about having to also take you on a date?” Okay that one was a little harsh, Gwen can feel the teeth sinking in to bite. 

“He did ask me out, that first time.” She snaps. 

He did ask me out. 

“I don’t doubt that. He still hasn’t learned his lesson from Francesca. You don’t date cheerleaders if you don’t have a Letter.” 

Fran had been one of the girls who’d told Gwen about Eddie, albeit a little cruelly. 

“I took his virginity, your welcome.” She’d giggled at Gwen over her lunch, swatting playfully at her hand. “He’s a lot of fun, but he gets all googly-eyed if you’re too nice to him. Gets it in his head he has a chance.” The group had laughed and Gwen had felt a little cold. 

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him.”

You stub out your cig in front of you and neatly avoid her gaze. 

“I didn’t think you were. It’s…look, you’re breaking it off right?”

She nods. 

“Better offer?”

Gwen wishes you wouldn’t say it like that. There’s no pretense anymore though. 

“Yeah.”

You hum and nod a few times and cast a look over her shoulder, past her into the woods. 

“Is he nice?”

Gwen’s taken aback again. Why would you care?

“I think so. His name’s Mark. I don’t know if you know him, but he plays basketball and he’s….the JV…” She’s trying to keep the quiet at bay but just trails off softly. Feels stupid for talking. 

You pick at the table, face screwed up in thought. You’re quiet for a little too long and it has her looking around, wondering if Eddie even got the note. 

“I don’t hate you Gwen, I’m just…jealous?” That brings her head snapping back around and you wave her off with an air of avoidance. “Don’t read into that. I’m glad you found your basketball prince or whatever just, don’t be mean to Eddie.”

“I won’t.” She means it, she was just going to be truthful. 

There’s a beat before you slap the table and stand up. “Okay, I’m gonna get the fuck out of here because I don’t really need to see that in person. Try not to ruin his whole day, yeah?” You’ve already gathered your bag and started towards the trail back to the baseball field. All Gwen can do is nod, the nerves seeping back in with the cold that’s climbing up her legs. 

Ahead of you there’s the shuffling of dragging feet through gravel and the familiar huff of someone who never runs the mile in gym. Eddie sees you first though, coming to a stop a few feet ahead of you. 

“Hey trouble, what are you doing out here?” His face is screwed up in confusion, wondering if he’s misunderstood who the note was from when he sees your face pull into a tight frown. 

“Ditching the library but I ran into your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.” Too quick to respond and he sees you chuckle. 

“Yeah not for long man.” He wouldn’t say it’s glee written across your face, but there isn’t any regret there that’s for sure. 

“The hell does that mean?” Eddie has an idea, had a feeling in the pit of his stomach this morning when he woke up. He’d planned on telling Gwen it was over by Friday, but it looks like she’s beat him to it. There’s a small sympathetic smile on your lips and you cross the space between the two of you to clap a hand on his shoulder. 

“Just let me know if you need to drink about it later.”

He nods and rolls his eyes, a big sigh working it’s way out of his chest. The knot that’d been sitting heavy loosens a little under the warmth of your fingers. 

He wants to walk back up to the school with you, leave this sphere of guilt out in the woods where he can forget it. He could just slide your hand off his shoulder and link it with his to drag you back up the trail and the two of you don’t even need to go back to class. It’s cold out, but he still has blankets in the back of his van and he can think of a few ways to keep you two warm. 

Another nod, this one final and he steps around you to go find Gwen out in the clearing. 

You don’t see him again until lunch when you rush him. So engrossed with whatever Gareth is telling him he doesn’t hear the squeak of your converse barreling up beside to tackle him into the wall. 

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie’s elbow comes down in the middle of your shoulders and you just laugh. Bent over and smushed up into his ribs you get a face full of leather and clean laundry. Gareth jumps away to avoid his flailing but he’s laughing. Everyone else around you seems unimpressed with the display. You give him a big squeeze before letting go. 

“Oh unclench.” You say to a passing group, all holding on to their lunch trays like your gonna slap them on the floor. 

“You coulda broken my ribs.” Eddie is rubbing his side, mock hurt pulling at his features. 

“You have flipped me clean over your shoulder and I’m fine! You’ll live.” You see Gareth’s eyebrows raising and before he can open his mouth you shove his face away, eliciting another laugh from him. 

“Don’t be a pervert.” 

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet during lunch, both Gareth and you keeping an eye on him. He told you two the gist of it, his little woodland meeting. 

“She told me about Mark.” He sticks his tongue out. “I should have know, prom is right around the corner.” He’s creeping in on himself, shoulders pulling down. “It’s whatever. I was getting bored anyways.”

The way he says it sits weird with you. 

“Bored with sex?” You’re trying to lighten the mood. Gareth laughs into his pudding cup and he’s just full of giggles today it would seem. Eddie kicks him under the table. 

“No, that’s not what I said.” Eddie is blushing now, floundering for his next words. You keep looking at him and it keeps making him stumble and blush more and mission accomplished. 

“What, were you gonna break up with her?” Gareth asks like it’s the dumbest thing in the world. Yeah, why would he break up with the hot cheerleader?

When he doesn’t answer or look up from his chips, Gareth drops the sarcasm. 

“Oh shit you were.” 

Eddie does shoot him a look then, a silent ‘shut up’ if you ever saw one. 

You keep it to yourself, but there’s a warmth that grows up the inside of you with the knowledge that he’d made the decision this time before it was made for him. 

The crumpled up paper all over his floor is a testament to his stupidity. At least he thinks so because why god why is it so hard to write a letter to someone. He’s tried every iteration of ‘I’m obsessed with you, will you please kiss me’. Some of them had turned into half ramblings about some dream he’d had and he’s absolutely not giving you some R rated fantasy to try to win you over. 

(The thought keeps crossing his mind though.)

In desperation he’d even thought about trying to write out some kind of solo player campaign that involved a maze and a riddle. He’d been halfway to writing it, stressed and sleep deprived when he realized how long it’d take and this was supposed to be a love letter for fucks sake.  

He hadn’t given himself a timeline really, had just been thinking in afters. After he called it off with Gwen. After he wrote you an epic poem. After he got his head out of his ass. 

But one of the afters, the most important really, had kind of happened out of step and it left him adrift. 

When would he tell you? He couldn’t let this go on much longer, he’d run out of little trinkets to steal from you. He’d collapse in on himself if he had to suppress any urge around you much longer. He figures two weeks off of school would give him time to clear his head. Get to the new year. Hell, maybe even make his and yours New Years Eve a nice memorable one for once.

With one after out of the way he thinks maybe he doesn’t need the others. 

Maybe…maybe it didn’t need to be a letter. He could just tell you. Just lay himself out, heart on his sleeve. 

(Head would be firmly out of ass too.) 

Even if you said no he knows you wouldn’t be cruel, not to him. 

What if she doesn’t want to be friends anymore?

No. No he won’t let that happen because he’s so good at pretending. Pretending everything is fine and pretending he’s okay and that nothing is going wrong ever for him. Pretending that he’d be over you in an instant. 

She’s gonna see right through that, genius. 

Okay new thought. 

You say yes. Of course you’d say yes, it’s Eddie! You’re already up each others asses enough everyone thinks your dating anyways. You’re comfortable around each other, you share secrets like you share food and drinks (and that lollipop that one time.) There’s no one else he’d rather hang out with normally, except maybe Gareth but he’s never wanted to pin him up against a wall and kiss him till he can’t breathe. 

He’s pacing his room, small little lazy circles in the cramped space, chewing on a hangnail on his thumb. He’s lost in thought enough that he almost misses the phone ringing and he bounds down the hallway to the kitchen. 

“Hello?”

“Took you long enough. What, were you jerkin’ off? Too busy to answer me?” You joke around a mouthful of something. Eddie can hear the clink of a spoon in a bowl from your end. 

“Ha ha.”

“Seriously, what are you up to?” You cut to the chase. It’s Thursday so both Wayne and your mom are working overnight and Eddie’s brain starts working overtime. Could just tell you tonight, force his own hand and spill his guts. Could be a Christmas miracle instead, one thing going his way for once. 

“Nothing special. Wanna come over and waste a perfectly good evening?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

20 minutes later he hears you outside, coming up the steps and before you can knock he swings the door open. 

“Thanks for dressing up.” He smirks, looking you up and down. Ratty jeans under oversized hoodie under secondhand peacoat. You scoff hard, one of his favorite sounds you make. 

“Oh fuck you Munson. I bring you booze and you critique my attire?” You half pull out a bottle from the folds of you coat to show him. “Like you’ve got any room to talk.”

“My apologies, I didn’t know we were partying.” His hand slaps against his chest and you push him out of the way, smiling as you filter into the trailer. The bottle goes on the kitchen counter and you toss your coat over the back of the recliner. 

“I figure we could skip tomorrow. Last day before break, you know we aren’t doing shit. Also I figured you could use a drink or three.” You’re busying yourself in the kitchen, finding glasses and grabbing a soda out of his fridge. Eddie hasn’t said anything because he’s realizing a fatal flaw in his plan, where if he tells you how he feels then you’ll know how he feels. Having you in the same room as his thoughts makes it evident that he needs to figure his shit out. 

“I told you I’m fine.”

“I know, but getting dumped for Mark the Hoop King can’t feel great.”

“I mean, honestly I wasn’t that invested.” He shrugs, coming over to lean on the outside of the counter and watching you crack open the fifth of jack you definitely stole from your mom. You shoot him a doubtful look under the cabinets. He feels like he might start vibrating if he keeps thinking about telling you anything ever. 

“If you say so.” The glass you push towards him is more liquor than soda and Eddie grimaces before even taking a sip. Knows it’ll burn. Knows it’ll loosen his tongue. He downs half before he can talk himself out of it. You cheers the air in front of you and follow suit, sucking your teeth when the glass hits the countertop. 

“What are we watching tonight?” The strain on your voice makes him chuckle, your own drink working against you. 

“I got The Dead Zone if you want to watch something horror, and I also snagged the last copy of Year Without a Santa Claus because I know you can’t get enough of the snow miser.” 

You let out a gasp and clap your hands together, gathering up your glass and shimmying over to the couch. You look at him expectantly where he’s still leaned up against the counter and gesture at the tv set. 

“Well come on! Santa’s not gonna get fat without us.” 

Eddie gives you another smile and heads to his room to grab the cassettes off of his dresser. On his way back into the living room he sees you pulling your feet up onto the cushion, adjusting around until you’re comfortable. 

Down deep he lets himself have a moment. 

He can pretend when he sits down next you he could snake his arm around you and pull you close. Smush his nose into your hair while some claymation character sings about the joy of the season. 

Instead he grabs the bottle from the kitchen after getting the tape set up and drops down on the opposite side of you. Swings his legs up to shove his socked feet under your calf. You laugh through your nose and settle into the couch further and he supposes this is good too. 

When the credits roll the both of you are tipsy, more so you since you’d taken Eddie up on his game. Any time you felt the need to recite along with the movie, he’d pour a little more into your glass, effectively turning it all into whiskey. He took a few swigs in solidarity with you but he was finding your rosy cheeks and giggles a little distracting, loosing count of how many sips behind he was. 

“Laugh at me all you want, I love Rankin and Bass. There’s an Easter one I’m gonna make you watch in April.” You’ve stretched out alongside Eddie, feet wiggling beside his shoulder while you nurse the half full cup clasped between your hands. 

“You’re not gonna make me do shit.” His laugh rumbles quiet in his chest. He sounds a little buzzed, voice deeper from the drinks. His own feet are stuffed behind your back and he moves them around, jostling you lightly. You laugh and tell him to stop, slapping his knee. 

“I’m gonna spill my drink!” 

He does it again and you dip your fingers into your cup and flick the liquid at him. 

“That’s low!” 

“Stop kicking me!”

He sits up and leans forward, hands reaching for your glass and you try to pull it away but he hooks a finger on the rim. 

“Ed-!“ and tips it forward right into his lap. Neither of you jump to move out of the way, accepting the sticky fate right off. The hand you’ve slapped over your mouth is doing nothing to hide the laugh that’s shaking your shoulders. Eddie stares down at this lap and then back up to you which seems to send you into a harder fit of giggles. 

“Here let me-“

“I just need to move my legs-“ It’s a scramble to get off the couch before anything sinks too deep into the cushion. You can see Eddie trying to hold back laughter himself but refusing to break a smile in front of you. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the living room with his hands out to his side and you just can’t seem to stop laughing at his awkwardness. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go change, try not to make any more messes while I’m gone?”

“Me?!”

He’d shuffled around his room before heading into the bathroom and you’d taken the opportunity to switch the movie out. Standing in front of the tv waiting for the credits to roll you notice a wet patch on your hoodie that’s soaked through to your shirt. “Ah, Eddie what the shit.” Wobbling slightly down the hallway to his room to root around for a t-shirt that would fit, you hear the shower kick on. 

It makes you pause, the haze of liquor whispering at you to lean forward. Press your ear up against the door lightly. There’s shuffling and a small bump followed by Eddie’s quiet cursing. The shower curtain pulling open and closed. The heavy thud of your heartbeat in your ear. You trail a finger down the door, hand hovering near the handle before you startle and pull your hand back. 

What are you doing?

Getting a shirt. Yeah. A head shake to get your brain right, you aren’t even drunk what are you doing?

You shut the bedroom door behind you and strip off your sweatshirt and top, pulling open the bottom drawer of his dresser where all his shirts are shoved in haphazardly. 

“How do you find anything in here.” Mumbling while shuffling through all his shit, you find a faded out ren fair shirt and when you stand up a glint of metal catches your eye. His little secret drawer he was gatekeeping his weed in is ajar and just inside is…your zippo? You’d thought you’d just left it at home this morning but now it’s here. 

You shove the shirt on and open the drawer completely to see, yep, your silver VFW zippo slide fully into view. 

Along with an assortment of things. 

Frowning, you sift through some smaller hair clips that you swore you’d lost at school or in the chaos of your car. There’s two eyeliner pencils that you’ve replaced twice now. A lipstick you’d bitched about misplacing. 

And your tiefling minifig. 

Eddie had been adamant you hadn’t left it at his or Hellfire. Had said he hadn’t seen the little purple figure you’d spent a few hours painting delicately. 

What the fuck. 

You wrench the drawer open all the way and and see a handful of picks and two rings you reallythought you’d lost in the mayhem of the locker room after gym. Some folded up notes you’ve passed him in classes. There’s fabric bunched up at the back that you shake out. It’s the Dead Kennedys shirt you’ve been missing for months. 

What the fuck Eddie. 

You pick up the little wooden box, expecting to find more of your shit in it but it’s what’s underneath that catches your attention. 

You only pause for a moment, an upside down polaroid could be anything, or anyone really, but you don’t care right now because he has a drawer of your shit and-

The edges are worn a little like it’s been handled frequently, a corner of the white tab bent just a little. 

The wooden box is clutched against your chest, knuckles white with the tightness of your fist holding it to you. 

You’ve never seen this photo. You’ve got an idea of when it was taken, you’ve only dressed up like Elvira the one time. 

Your eyes are roaming the photo, looking for…what? Your hand in the bottom of the photo keeps snagging your attention. Dark nails dug into dark denim. 

Is this how he saw you? There’s an itch at the base of your skull that feels like fire and your mind rolls in it. Maybe you weren’t crazy after all, pining after Eddie Munson. Your stomach does a somersault at the notion. 

The trailer is quiet around you, some truck going by outside but otherwise nothing. The creak of the hinges being flexed under your hand where you’re blanking out in the quiet. 

You don’t hear the bathroom door open or Eddie wandering out to living room to see you gone. 

Mind going a mile a minute piecing the puzzle together. 

This was last year, so he’s had this for a whole year and then a drawer full of shit he said he hadn’t seen and my zippo that I just talked about this morning did he take it out of my pocket-

“I see how it is, you snoop while I’m in the shower.” Eddie’s voice is a clear cut through the tornado sirens going off in your mind. The door opens behind you and you see him in the mirror toweling off his hair. 

“I keep telling you you’re gonna find-“ He’s dropped the towel and pushed his hair out of his eyes to see your back to him, watching him in the reflection of his mirror. His eyes flick down to the top of his dresser where the contents of the drawer are sprawled out. Panic blooms over his face when his eyes find yours again and he notices your hands in the mirror, clutching the box and-

Oh my god no. 

He thinks his heart has ceased beating, might even have brain leaking out of his ears. He watches you turn around, sees your eyebrows drawn together. He can’t tell if you’re angry or worried or scared? Maybe all three. Holds his breath till you say something because he hadn’t thought about this outcome. Had thought he’d been good about keeping it hidden, his stupid fucking crush on you. Tucked under boxes of weed or in pages of books. Under a mattress. In a breast pocket. 

Eddie can hear the deep breaths you’re taking and he wonders how you’re finding oxygen in this room. 

Your voice is quiet when your eyes search his, holding up the picture. 

“Ed?”

💕Tag List💕

@edsforehead, @fracturedarkness, @munsonsguitarpick, @bebe0701, @ali-r3n, @cantreadbutcute, @marjoriea13, @demeterlindavis, @eddiethesexy, @fckyeahlames, @tiannamortis, @munsonzzgf, @emma77645, @starrywhitenight, @e0509, @chelebelletx,

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fanfic #My Work #My Fic #Bitch this is long? #like long long??? shit #The weight is off my shoulders #I can finally get to the fuckin parts #Rentfic

[jaycewrites-192000]

Childhood

Summery: Things the Kawata siblings did as kids.

Pairing(s): Platonic!Nahoya Kawata x Platonic!Reader x Platonic!Souya Kawata

Warning(s): None

Nahoya and Souya were born one year before you, so the three of you were in the same classes for the longest of time. Bullies were rarely a problem for you too. One time in the second grade, some bratty boys decided to pick on you and pull at your hair. Your brothers were quick to your rescue, and beat them up. With every passing grade, your brothers made it known right away that you were not to be messed with, anyone unfortunate enough to try, would be dealt with swiftly and painfully.

Even in high school, your reputation was just as well known as their’s. You were known as the demon twin’s sister, and you were off limits. To people who wanted to mess with you, and to anyone who admired/had a crush on you. (Mainly involves boys in that situation) You eventually gained some respect of your own when you learned how to fight like your older brothers.

Speaking of people having crushes on you…Guys were hesitant to confess their feelings, much less talk to you. The last guy who tried ended up getting his ass kicked. But he was a total creep anyway, so you weren’t mad at your brothers. However, you were mad when they scared off a guy just for asking how your day was. Sometimes they could be a real overprotective pain.

Girls were a different story. Your brothers would never hurt a girl, but they can be scary if they need to be.

Going back to when you were little kids-

You had your own room, while your brothers shared a room when the three of you were kids. However, you three rarely ever slept in your own rooms. Sometimes you’d go to their room and sometimes they’d come to yours. Whether the excuse be: having a nightmare, fearing monsters under the bed or in the closet, or just wanted to sleep in the same room just because.

That of course changed when you reached teenhood. All three of you had separate rooms then.

Pillow fights quickly would turn into an all out war. You knocked out Nahoya’s tooth one time, it was already loose, and that hit from you knocked it right out. He wasn’t even mad, just hyped because the tooth fairy was coming. One time it got so intense between you two, Souya hid under the bed to save himself. It was for the best anyway. God forbid either of you make him cry…

Before your family moved closer to the city, the house you lived in had a big tree in the backyard. So of course you guys had a treehouse. You had a fear of heights, so it took you about a week to finally work up the nerve to climb up. Once you were up there, you never wanted to come down. Your brothers made it too fun to leave. Playing pretend, drawing, or just hanging out.

Holidays were always fun. The three of you would stay up as late as possible to try and catch Santa. But always would fall asleep an hour or two after bedtime. Halloween was great too. The three of you would always match, and the cuteness of it would only get you guys extra candy. You guys would be eating Halloween candy until late of next year…

As kids, you three agreed that there was a strong no tattle rule. One of you do something you’re not suppose to being doing? None of you would say a peep to your parents. That rule would only be broken when you guys got hurt.

One time Nahoya thought he was an expert and could do a near impossible trick on his bike. He ended up breaking his arm, and that of course freaked you and Souya out. Nahoya, despite being in a ton of pain, was saying over and over “don’t tell mom.” But there was no hiding a broken bone, so mom did end up finding out, rather quickly. She wasn’t more upset as she was worried. But Nahoya certainly did get quite the scolding on the way back from the hospital.

Speaking of your mom…She was not to be messed with or disrespected. As the three of you got older, you thought you could get away with anything. That way of thinking was quickly shut down by mom.

Sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night? Better be dead silent. Picking fights with other people? Better hope she never finds out. (That mainly concerns Nahoya)

Back to teenhood again. Your brothers couldn’t hide being a gang from you, and they were already expecting you to want to meet everyone. Of course you were impressed by Mikey the most, especially after hearing all the stories about him. Eventually your admiration for him and Toman would lead you to want to learn how to fight.

Your brothers weren’t totally against it. They had always protected you, and they didn’t care to keep doing so. But there would be times when they would always be around, so it was good that you knew how to defend yourself.

To wrap it all up, your childhood was rarely ever boring. Especially with older brothers like Smiley and Angry.

#nahoya kawata x reader #nahoya kawata #souya kawata x reader #souya kawata #angry tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smiley #tokyo revengers nahoya #tokyo revengers souya

[rotten-debzee]

Murderer Heather AU(?)

(I wouldn't call it Heather as JD anymore since they go through different character development)

The plot of the story begins as it's supposed to be, a Veronica among Heathers and JD being a loner.

Everything seems normal until instead of falling in love with him, Veronica starts to feel disgusted by JD and the way he views the world. She just wants to push him away and act like they don't know each other, but JD didn't handle rejection that well so he keeps insisting and stalking Veronica around to supposedly 'win her back'.

The days pass, and our infamous party happens, but Veronica still hangs out with the Heathers, since this time, she goes alone to apologize to Heather, and you can say things went down well and smoothly with them after that.

Veronica wanted to feel happy now, instead, she feels observed by JD at every step, and the anxiety doesn't let her live peacefully, she always seems insecure and this doesn't goes unnoticed by Chandler of course.

Heather always had the feeling that the trench coat boy was no good, so, with the growing feelings she is developing towards Veronica, she started to be protective over her (in a way it isn't obvious yet), not letting her be in her own, so he won't dare to be near her.

Everything seems to get better, but some day, everything just went downhill when JD takes Veronica into the woods, wanting to push himself into her without her consent. She keeps trying to fight him back but he's stronger.

Heather saw him taking her away, so she followed them, watching the events happen from a distance at first, but she couldn't just stay there without doing anything, her Veronica is in danger.

So she runs towards them, not knowing what to do until she reaches out the gun JD had in his coat, not knowing that this time around, the gun was filled with real bullets.

She didn't even checked, since she just wanted to stop him at all cost, so without a single doubt in her body, she shoot him, first bullet at his head, second bullet at his chest.

Heather takes Veronica closer to her, gentle and protective, finally free from that guy. But after they finally come back to senses, both the girls stay in shock for a while, staring how the dead body of JD remains bleeding on the grass.

"What should we do now?"

Their plan is risky, almost cruel, but having no other choice and being blinded by fear, the decide to make his murder seem like a suicide, wanting to protect themselves, knowing that nobody actually will care if the loner boy died at the end of the day.

As time passes, Heather grows from protective to possesive, she doesn't want anybody near her Veronica, not even the other Heathers, she doesn't want more people threaten the safety of her beloved one.

She would gladly lock her in her room if only she had a way to do it.

The mean demeanor and aggressiveness of Heather also grows like scorching fire, if someone wasn't afraid of her before, they definitely are now.

And not only that is growing inside her, as she keeps thinking, maquinating.

After doing her first kill, the idea of getting rid of people who bothers her starts to sound appealing to Heather, and seeing how easy she can get off the hook, she suddenly had the urge to give in her temptations and go for another shot.

And days later, the perfect trigger was pulled when she found out about how close Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney were from hurting her Veronica.

So, she decides to start hunting down the jocks. After she brought a gun by her own, she attract the boys to her, and everything happens just as she planned, and this time, Heather doesn't meddle Veronica in between.

The school is noticed about the two boys 'suicide' not so long after, nobody getting sad for that. Except for Veronica, who eventually founds out the real reason of the jocks deaths.

Getting enough courage to do so, she confronts Heather about it.

Her manners are becoming clumsy, her perfect facade is starting to feel messy.

Heather seems completely out of her mind for some reason.

And Veronica just want her to snap out of whatever she is going through right now.

They argued loudly in Heather's room.

They scream.

They cry.

Until Veronica finally snaps, "you're becoming just like him!"

Heather, clearly seems affected by Veronica's statement, remembering how awful human being 'he' was. And of course she didn't wanted to be like that, sure, she is aware that she has never been a good person herself, but oh lord, from all the people she can be compared with she doesn't wanted to be related to that crazy psychopath.

"I'm... scared of you..."

Specially not when that is coming from Veronica's lips.

"And I swear to god, Heather, if you start to act like he did, I don't want you near me anymore"

Heather is left alone in her house, hurted and doubtful, thinking about her past decisions and her future.

When did she became like him to begin with? She just wanted to protect Veronica from the people who hurt her, but now, even Veronica is scared of Heather hurting her.

That it's not how it was supposed to be.

She was supposed to be the good one in Veronica's story, not the other way around.

And the worst part is that she isn't even sorry for what she have done, she even was starting plans to kill the other heathers for causing Veronica to go where the jocks were that time.

She wasn't regretful, because they just received what they deserved. Right?

They both are down and hurted, missing each other and hoping that things haven't ended up the way the ended.

Until a few days later, Heather approach Veronica in her house, wanting to make things better.

But not being good with words as she has never been a person who apologies, she prefers to let her actions talk for her.

Holding Veronica closer, Heather remains helpless, for the first time, vulnerable, as she kneels before her.

"Should I also receive what I deserve for killing them, Ronnie? If that is what you want, should I die too as my punishment for trying to be god?"

Heather decided to willingly gives up her life, handing Veronica her gun, ready to get punished with it if that's what the other girl wants for her.

And of course, Veronica is taken aback, horrified at the implications, she doesn't wants Heather to die, let alone kill her, she doesn't want anybody to die.

She only wanted to stop being afraid, she just wanted to cherish Heather, the only person she cares about the most, she wanted to live her seventeen as a normal kid.

Dropping the gun at the floor, that's exactly what she answers. Kneeling in front of Heather to be at the same level as her, taking her hands on her own.

Veronica just wanted Heather to stay by her side.

And if Heather also wants Veronica by her side, why not just do that?

"We can't change the past, and we don't know the future, so why not... stay in the present, just you and me? If you are willing, let's be better... Together..."

Heather doesn't feel like she deserves a happy ending.

"It's not too late for me, Ronnie?"

But Veronica doesn't seems to agree with her.

"It's not if you say yes..."

Heather gave her goddess the choice to take her life in exchange for her sins, and her goddess has given her mercy, a second change to fix the broken, and live not only for her, but with her.

She can't disappoint her, she won't disappoint her.

Mistakes have been made, and shattered she begun to be, but, she is not broken yet.

Her fate may not be falling apart after all.

And she shall spend all her life proving that as a fact to her goddess.

"I will. I chose to be by your side... Always..."

.

.

.

The end?

#danm that was heavy #based on our love is god and seventeen #hope this make sense lol #heather chandler #veronica sawyer #chansaw #heathers #heathers fanfic