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#SO confesses in front of entire school
msgexymunson · 2 months
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Highest Bidder
Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him? 
Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl) 
A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day. 
Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know. 
7k words
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“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview. 
The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same. 
The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.
Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.
It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you. 
So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing. 
You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie. 
Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked. 
What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities. 
“Hey sweetheart, am I late?” 
When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.
“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.” 
He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face. 
“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.” 
Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged. 
‘It's nothing, just a dress.” 
“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”
His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back. 
“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?” 
After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start. 
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!” 
The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.  
“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”
After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience. 
“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!” 
As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.
No. Your friend. Just a friend. 
“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?” 
“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him. 
“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?” 
“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh. 
“Fifty dollars!” 
The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air. 
“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?” 
Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward. 
“One hundred dollars!” 
Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. 
She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten. 
But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels. 
You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face. 
“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?” 
The man at the back called out, “right here!” 
Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid. 
“One thirty!” 
It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.  
“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy. 
The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him. 
He's yours. 
Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here. 
It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer. 
At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand. 
“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!” 
Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering. 
“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”
He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you. 
“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin. 
“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes. 
“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?” 
He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie. 
“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.” 
Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him. 
“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?” 
“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?” 
Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down. 
“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?” 
Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”
He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual. 
You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her. 
“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.” 
She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.” 
Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone. 
“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.” 
He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.
“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-” 
You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared. 
“-nevermind. Thank you.” 
As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. 
“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?” 
As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind. 
“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back. 
“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.” 
You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg. 
“Woof! Woo-” 
“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you. 
As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table. 
“What are you doing?” 
Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie. 
“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?” 
As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.  
“This isn't a date, Eds.” 
Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks. 
“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest. 
As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes. 
“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?” 
A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise. 
“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation. 
“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.” 
“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck. 
“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.” 
As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes. 
“Eddie?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Let's get out of here.” 
You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences. 
Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye. 
“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.” 
Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours. 
“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?” 
His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings. 
“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”
Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee. 
“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again. 
“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?” 
Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.
“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.” 
He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine. 
“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.” 
You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety. 
“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.” 
“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”
“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?” 
You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain. 
“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”
“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.” 
“What else would I do?” 
He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-” 
“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.” 
“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.” 
Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts. 
“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?” 
“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.” 
Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee. 
“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind. 
“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.” 
“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.” 
“I dated Wendy to get over you!” 
Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means. 
“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. 
“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?” 
It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut. 
It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side. 
Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally  charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back. 
So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips. 
“I'm in love with you.” 
It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly. 
“Huh?” 
“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”
You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.
“Eddie, you lied.” 
“What? I'm telling the truth I-”
“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.” 
Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge. 
The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth. 
“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.” 
There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss. 
Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for- 
“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.” 
You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life. 
The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin. 
“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.” 
A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor. 
“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms. 
A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face. 
“You are so beautiful.” 
Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away. 
“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned. 
“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.” 
Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second. 
“Can we go to my bedroom?” 
Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart. 
“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties. 
“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back. 
The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso. 
Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are. 
“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?” 
He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.” 
The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least. 
“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.” 
“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.” 
You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away. 
“Do I need to put a towel down?” 
“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him. 
“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.” 
He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face. 
“You want me to stay?” 
“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.” 
The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything. 
“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form. 
“Hmm?”
“Get the towel.” 
Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns. 
“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.
“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact. 
“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck. 
“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot. 
Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple. 
“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.” 
You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there. 
As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten. 
“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment. 
“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?” 
“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy. 
“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.” 
“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh. 
“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?” 
Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard. 
“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch. 
He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring. 
Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling. 
“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”
Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot. 
“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!” 
He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to?  You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if- 
“Hey, sweetheart, you here?” 
He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question. 
“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-” 
“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”
“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-” 
“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.” 
His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you. 
“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”
“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.” 
Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips. 
“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.” 
Sweet. You sound sweet. 
In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment. 
There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion. 
“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!” 
He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.
It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair. 
He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed. 
The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down. 
“Now are you glad I said about the towel?” 
Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you. 
Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.
“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.” 
Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear. 
“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused. 
“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.” 
“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.” 
The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him. 
It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again. 
“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??” 
“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.” 
He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk. 
“Now that's not fair sweetheart.” 
You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince. 
“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut. 
“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.” 
“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-” 
He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes. 
Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction. 
“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?” 
Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire. 
“I-I'll try.”
“That's it, atta girl, little more.” 
Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in. 
“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!” 
“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”  
A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks. 
“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.” 
Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.
“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.” 
Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving. 
“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head. 
“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?” 
Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again. 
“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.” 
Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet. 
“Eddie, I lo-” 
“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?” 
You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him. 
“Oh my God, baby, oh God!” 
You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem. 
“Right there princess?” 
Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan. 
“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.” 
Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back. 
“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily. 
“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts. 
It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire. 
“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.” 
Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse. 
Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness. 
“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.” 
He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye. 
“Eddie, that was perfect.” 
He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time. 
“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”
Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling. 
“OK, now I'm really gonna go.” 
You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind. 
“Right, now, just hang on.” 
With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat. 
“I can change the sheets if you want-” 
“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.” 
Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief. 
“Eddie? Can I say it now?” 
You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening. 
“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.” 
“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.” 
The smile in his voice makes you smile too.
“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."
Taglist
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steddiealltheway · 4 months
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It’s a cold Wednesday night in January that has Eddie turning the thermostat up and allowing the government supplied heat to fill the trailer. He glances up at the vents and gives them a quick middle finger, wondering if they bugged the place to observe him or make sure he isn’t spreading their secrets.
He doesn’t really care at this point if they’re watching though. They already held him at the hospital for long enough, poking and prodding as if he wasn’t even human. But he didn’t turn into a vampire or some shit because of those damn bats. No. The jagged, ugly scars littering his body served as a lovely reminder that he was ultimately human.
Eddie glances at a nearby mirror and cringes at his face, taking a look at the long scar running down his cheek, jaw, and neck. The Corroded Coffin guys all said it made him look metal, and he would throw in a, “Hell yeah,” before smoothly changing the subject to something that didn’t involve him for once.
He takes a finger and slowly trails it over the pale pink skin, wondering if there will ever be a day he won’t notice it.
“Eddie,” Steve calls out gently from the room down the hall.
Eddie jumps back and glances toward him, hand falling to his side and flexing uncomfortably as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.
“You okay?”
Eddie smiles and gestures toward the thermostat. “Damn thing wasn’t working for a minute there. You’d think with the amount of hush hush money they were able to pay all of us, they’d be able to give me and Wayne a better trailer.”
But Steve only crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, eyebrows raising gently. It’s not entirely accusatory, but it’s clear that he doesn’t believe a thing Eddie’s saying.
Although they’ve grown close while going through the same treatment and tests in Owen’s new secret facility, it still surprises Eddie how easily Steve can read people. More specifically, how easily he can read him of all people. “Just got lost in thought,” Eddie confesses while making his way back to his room as he sees Steve squint at the lights in the living area.
Steve steps out of the way as Eddie brushes by him and closes the door. He hope it’s enough honesty to end the conversation.
“What were you thinking about?” Steve asks, ignoring the signals Eddie is giving him.
Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face and climbs back into his bed, quick to pull up the blanket around himself in an attempt to get some much needed warmth while simultaneously covering his scars from Steve. “Stuff.”
Steve rests his hands on his hips for a second and stares, mouth opening and closing for a moment before deciding against whatever he was going to say. Instead, he climbs into the bed with Eddie and joins him under the blanket, keeping enough distance so they’re not touching, but they can still feel each other’s body heat.
Eddie glances over at him, noticing the way the one lamp turned on in the room gives him a nice golden halo. He looks gorgeous and untouchable - exactly how Eddie used to think of him through high school and sometimes even now. The perfect golden boy. But despite the name Eddie gave to him years ago, he can’t ignore the flaws that Steve possesses, yet they somehow make him even more perfect to him. Or maybe just human.
Eddie shakes his head and glances away. He wishes Steve came over to smoke so Eddie could blame the drugs on the way his thoughts race when he’s next to him. Instead, he has to face up to his enormous crush on the perfect golden boy.
“Have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks out of the blue.
Eddie snorts and glances at him, only to laugh harder when he sees the adorable look of confusion on his face.
Steve’s brows furrow but the edges of his lips quirk up. “What?”
Eddie pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to try to hide his wife smile. “Kind of random, don’t you think?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “I never said I was great at starting conversations. But I was just thinking about what holiday is next.”
“The worst one,” Eddie complains.
Steve turns toward him. “And why’s that?”
Eddie sighs and let’s himself go on a tangent. “It’s the one day of the year where people feel like they have to do all this shit for their partner, and the rest of the year, they think they can just get by doing the bare minimum. And people are left realizing what it would be like if their ‘other half’ actually put in an effort day to day. And then for all the single people, it’s a day where love is shoved in their face, and they have to feel bad and sometimes disgusted by all the public displays of affection going on around them and… I just hate it all. The stupid chocolates in the red heart boxes and the teddy bears and big heart shaped balloons and roses…”
“I didn’t realize you had such strong opinions about Valentine’s Day,” Steve says with a laugh.
“Well, now you do.”
They both sit in the silence for a few moments, Eddie thinking about all the other things he didn’t even touch on about Valentine’s Day that he hates, while Steve is probably taking in everything he just said.
Steve bumps his shoulder and asks, “So, I’m assuming that means you have no plans.”
Eddie laughs. “That’s what you got out of that?”
Steve shrugs and looks away with a smile.
Eddie glances at his clock and notices it’s technically Thursday now, and in these early hours, Steve will usually either silently fall asleep or he’ll lay awake in the silence until one of his thoughts has to make itself known.
Either way, Eddie knows he’ll be up for a few more hours, but he’s never regret the sleep he’s lost since they’ve made this silent arrangement.
The bed shifts, and Eddie follows Steve’s lead, laying down fully and staring at the ceiling, trying his best not to reach out for the hand laying beside his. He wonders if he should add something to the ceiling like some type of mural with stars and whatnot.
He tilts his head to the side, envisioning how it would look in the lamplight since he and Steve refuse to sleep in the dark. Or maybe it’s just Steve and Eddie’s picked up on the habit of leaving the lamp on.
“Do you think you’ll make plans?” Steve asks quietly.
Eddie turns to look at him, at a lost for a moment before realizing he’s still on the Valentine’s Day subject. He smiles sadly, “No.” Steve glances over at him and holds his gaze, expecting more. Eddie sighs and gestures at himself. “I mean, I’m not exactly what people want to bring home to their parents at the moment plus with the,” he gestures to his face and drops his hand quickly, averting his gaze back to the ceiling.
He hopes Steve will let it go and not connect the dots back to earlier.
A silence settles between them, but Steve’s gaze burns into the side of Eddie’s face. Then, he finally asks, “Is that what distracted you earlier?” When Eddie doesn’t answer he continues, “I saw you looking in the mirror, and I know you usually go out of your way to avoid them.”
Eddie wants to question how Steve noticed, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up about something that was just passively rather than intentionally observed. “Yeah,” Eddie states simply.
The bed shifts as Steve turns on his side to fully face him. “And you really think you can’t get a date because of them?”
Eddie sighs and rubs both of his hands over his face. “Steve, who is ever going to love me like this?” He turns and continues, “Privately, yes, someone could maybe get past the scars. But in public? You really think someone is going to be proud to say, ‘Here’s my boyfriend,’ and show off me?”
“Yes,” Steve says instantly as if he has no doubt in the world.
Eddie turns away, trying not to get choked up about it. Because how can he explain to him that while it’s nice that Steve has that confidence in him, Eddie wants Steve to be the one to be proud of him. To want him like that.
“Do you think my scars make me unlovable?” Steve asks.
“No! Jesus, Steve,” Eddie rushes to say and turns to him. He reached out and lays a hand over his side, feeling the way the skin puckers under the thin t-shirt. “These are metal as hell. Hot even. They make you more lovable if anything.”
Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and slowly pulls it off his side to hold it up, the scar on it being presented out to Eddie. “And this doesn’t make you more lovable?”
“Steve…” Eddie protests quietly as Steve pulls his hand close to stare at it.
“The scars you got protecting us. You think those make you less lovable?” Steve asks, pulling his hand close enough that his lips ghost over the skin.
Eddie lets out a breath that sounds like Steve as Steve presses a soft kiss into the tough skin. He stares at Eddie with a worried look in his eyes as he whispers, “Too much?”
Eddie shakes his head, too stunned to get the words out.
Steve intertwines their hands and pulls Eddie’s arm toward him. “These scars,” he says kissing the next one on his forearm, “Are beautiful on you.” He moves on to the scar on his elbow stretching to his bicep, lips trailing against the sensitive unmarked skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “How could anyone hate these?” He asks leaving three soft, lingering kisses before shifting on the bed to hover above Eddie, still holding his hand but now against his stomach so he can press a kiss against his shoulder. “These scars show everyone what you were willing to sacrifice for us.”
As Steve moves to the scar on his neck, Eddie’s head drops back, giving him more access as he groans out, “Steve.”
“These scars,” Steve says, kissing up his neck over and past the scars, “Are exactly,” he murmurs as he kisses past his jaw and peppers kisses up his cheek, “Why I love you,” Steve finishes by pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth near where the scar that Eddie traced earlier ends.
Eddie glances up at Steve as he hovers over him, trying to make sense of everything he’s saying until it finally clicks. “You love me?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods and squeezes his hand before letting it go so he can lightly caress his cheek. “I have since you decided to be a hero and sacrifice yourself. Which was exactly what I told you not to do by the way.”
“I’ve never been great at following rules,” Eddie breathes out and reaches a hand up to run through Steve hair. “Steve?”
“Mhm?”
“I love you, too,” Eddie confesses.
Steve smiles and asks, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says. He pauses before adding, “You know, one time when I was little, I captured a squirrel and it may have attacked me and left a scar on my lip.”
Steve laughs. “Is that so?”
Eddie smiles and nods.
Steve’s eyes dart down to Eddie’s lips and he moves his thumb to swipe over his top lip. “You know, I think I see it.”
Eddie debates telling him that it was actually his bottom lip, but instead he just breathes out, “Steve.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks with a teasing smile.
“Steve.”
Steve keeps smiling as he hums, “Hmm?” When Eddie huffs, Steve fakes surprise with a gasp, “Oh. You want me to find the picture for you!”
Eddie groans, “Steve!”
“Uh huh?”
Eddie huffs and cups his face. “You are infuriating.”
“Is that s-”
Eddie interrupts him by taking matters into his own hands and leaning up to kiss him. He feels Steve smile against his lip before finally kissing him back.
Steve pulls away and breathlessly asks, “So, do you think you’ll have plans for Valentine’s Day now?”
Eddie’s head thumps back on the pillow. “Oh my god.” Steve laughs. “Oh my god!” Eddie says and shoves Steve off of him only to roll over so he hovers above him. “You were trying to ask me out this whole time?”
“No, I just wanted to know your opinion of Valentine’s Day.”
Eddie gives him a light punch to the arm and smiles wide as he stares down at Steve, lying beneath him in the golden lamp light. His perfect golden boy.
“I still hate it by the way. Even if I have plans now,” Eddie comments seriously.
“Don’t worry, I’ll put in the effort year round for you and make sure to keep you away from the public that day,” Steve says running a hand through Eddie’s curls before tracing it down the scar on his cheek in a way he thought no one would be able to do - lovingly.
Eddie leans down and gives Steve a quick peck. “I’ve also got some scars on my hips I might want you to check out.”
Steve laughs loudly and pulls him into a kiss that truly makes Eddie breathless, all while tracing his hand over the scar on his cheek. And for the first time, Eddie learns to love the scars adorning his body.
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 7.1k | content: fluff, making out, college!au, mentions of insecurity, only very brief angst !!, alcohol, slight jealousy
notes: this was supposed to be lengthier and in smau format but i suck at that so here it is in fic format :’) i know i know, i write sae way too much </3
summary: you have a crush on sae. for a long time now. and he’s always known that. he just wants to see how long you can hold out.
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HIGH SCHOOL: 2ND YEAR
itoshi sae knows you like him.
you’re really obvious it’s pathetic, really. once during recess, he’d wanted to go back to the classroom to get some shut eye because soccer was way too draining lately, and guess who he saw slipping a little love note into his locker?
of course you. you and your little pink heart-shaped post-it that read i think you’re cute and i really really like you. because it was valentines and you were one of the many to send him little scribbles of confessions.
even now, when you sit just a couple of rows in front of him, he catches you looking behind at him, and sae purposely doesn’t look at you, doesn’t let you know he knows you’re staring. he’s not really sure why. maybe he feels bad if he exposes you or something.
throughout the rest of your sophomore year in high school, he continues to observe as you so subtly (not really) try to be friends with him. you always try to get picked to be in the same group as him for projects (which never works out), you try to sit next to him in lecture halls (but his friends cockblock you always), and during phys ed classes you try so hard with soccer but you’re really quite bad at it.
maybe it’s sae not being able to continue observing your failures that he throws you a bone.
“you need to bend your knees a little more.”
frozen stiff from the unexpected company, you awkwardly try to bend your knees further, all while staring at the ground. if sae was nice, he’d laugh and joke around with you, asking why you seemed so scared of him. but he’s not, so he only sighs and stands beside you while you try.
after a few more seconds, sae understands you don’t really understand so he moves to push down on your thigh, and by then you really freeze up, falling flat on your ass in front of him.
sae wants to laugh now, really, because it’s amusing how nervous you are. for no good reason too.
the next time sae talks to you, it’s during lunch time when he queues up behind you. on purpose. he doesn’t even usually eat from this stall, but seeing you there makes him want to mess with you a little. he purposely stands a little too close, makes himself prone to an accidental bump.
which does happen. because you’re just like that.
“oh, sor—” you stop midway as if realising it’s sae immediately dissolves you of any obliged apologies. “sorry,” you force out before whipping your attention back in front. the both of you don’t talk in that moment and sae can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
but sae continues to help you during phys ed classes, and you still try to get assigned to be his group mate. nothing groundbreaking happens during sophomore year of high school because nothing is born out of it.
nothing, except maybe a tiny bit of sae’s inexplicable emotions for you.
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HIGH SCHOOL: SENIOR YEAR
sae thinks maybe you went to a shrine over the holidays. how else would he explain you finally getting partnered with him on a project? and to top it off, it’s a two-person team for the entire year.
you get him all to yourself.
the moment the teacher calls your name after his, it’s like sae can practically see your tail wagging. you manage to compose yourself when you catch him staring at you though.
it’s a little cute, if he’s being honest.
“so, what do you think our project should be about?” your voice wavers a little when you speak to him. is he that intimidating?
sae wonders what if he tries to be a dick during this project. would you be obedient or would you actually bite back?
he tries to find out.
sae shrugs and acts disinterested, staring out the window of the second floor of the library where you’d both agreed to meet to work on it together. “don’t know, don’t care, think you could handle it for us? i’ve got too many soccer trainings, too tired.”
for a split second, you’re taken aback—he sees you sitting upright a little more, blinking twice at him because surely that’s not what you imagined your crush to behave like. not when he has straight As and is almost the top of your cohort.
and for a while, sae thinks you might actually be the former; obediently listening to him, making sure he’s happy. but then you furrow your brows and clench your fists and go “itoshi sae, who do you think you are” and oh, oh, you’re not the former, you’re the latter and you’d actually kill him if he was a dick. fuck.
somehow his hands instinctively come up in surrender and his mouth opens, “i was just kidding.”
it’s almost comical how your expression softens up immediately and you laugh, and sae keeps staring at you because you actually have a really nice smile. he never really noticed it before. and when the two of you actually get started on the project, sae finds himself observing you more than actually contributing.
yeah, you’re really quite pretty.
“any plans for the summer?”
it’s now almost july and summer break is around the corner, and to be honest sae’s kind of bummed about it. it’s beyond him why not seeing you would make him disappointed, but he’s not going to try and pursue the reason. he has his training camps to worry about.
“soccer. you?”
“mmm, a short trip with my parents.”
usually sae would leave it at that, but he asks about you, and he sees that tail wagging again. “where?”
“just gonna go to hokkaido,” you tell him. and you look like you’re anticipating him to ask more, but sae’s stuck. he doesn’t really know what to ask. he’s not exactly curious as to what you’d be doing there.
so you take matters into your own hand when you swiftly grab his phone from the table, key in your number and call yourself from his phone before putting it right back. sae watches you the whole time, wondering when exactly you’d gotten this bold.
“there, now you can’t escape me even over summer break.”
and he doesn’t. because you text him about your trip when you’re there, you send him pictures of the scenery and of the food you’re eating and you’re really inconsiderate because you send him that shit when he’s stuck in soccer bootcamp with twenty-four sweaty guys who’s none the better than him.
sae can end it by all means, just by not responding to you, but for the first time, talking to someone isn’t really a pain, and he thinks you’re kind of funny and the stickers you send are kind of cute so he’ll let this continue. even if by continue he means sending mediocre, lacklustre responses that just barely manages to keep the conversation going.
(in sae’s mind at eighteen, sending replies like okay and i see are considered acceptable and subjectively considered effort.)
when summer break finally ends and it’s early september, sae finally sees you again while he walks to school. he walks a little faster just to catch up to you before he adjusts his pace, acts like it’s coincidence that he’s right beside you.
and somehow he’s made it a routine; to memorise what bus you get off of and catch you on the way to school. even if he sees you in classes and even after classes in the library.
you’re acting a little less like he’s on a podium and more like normal friends and he kind of likes that. he likes being able to see you unfiltered when you gossip, likes seeing you laugh at stupid lame jokes, likes the way you hang close to him whenever you’re beside him.
okay maybe like is a little stretching it, he doesn’t mind being able to tolerate it. or maybe he’s just in denial, whatever.
winter comes and it’s somehow the time when more girls try to talk to him, mainly because somehow the school decides to hold a winter event this year; it’s going to be held near the edge of the city, where the biggest skating rink is.
by his guess, most girls are looking for a guy to have a skating date with.
in the library during your usual meetup for the school project, sae gets more than a couple visitors trying to get him for that same reason. you eye everyone that approaches the table, and sae can’t help but notice how he actually likes when you’re pouty. maybe it’s his twisted thinking that jealousy means you’re still into him.
“itoshi-kun, i was thinking whether you wanted to go to the winter event together?” another girl from your class, mizuno, asks him, and sae is tired of it, frankly. but he doesn’t show it. he only looks at you, and you look back at him because he doesn’t usually stare for this long.
then, he looks at mizuno and rejects her.
“sorry, can’t, i’m going with y/n.”
(you get home that day being completely flustered and completely happy.)
on the day of the event, sae keeps his word. he goes with you, sticks beside you the entire time. his friends snap pictures of the two of you and you always look so embarrassed. maybe you’re just not used to all of this attention. but that’s fine, it’s cute.
one thing he learns about you is that you can be real clumsy sometimes. like now, when you get so excited over your watermelon slushie that you somehow spill it all over your jacket and clothes.
sae ends up giving you his puffy winter jacket while he braves the cold with whatever he has left. that’s fine, he’s strong. besides, getting to watch you wear his jacket the entire time feels like a bonus somehow.
he thinks by now you should confess already, but you don’t. you’re happy to stay in this bubble with him right now, whichever phase the two of you are at. so is he. it feels kind of nice.
feels especially nice when you hang onto him for dear life in the skating rink even though neither of you are moving. sae’s aware that people are staring holes into both of you but it’s strange how much he doesn’t mind when it’s with you. that’s why he holds his hands out, lets you take them, makes himself pull you along. he finds himself wishing neither of you were wearing gloves so he could feel how soft your hands are.
by the end of the day, everyone takes it that the both of you are together, even though the both of you are too avoidant to talk about it.
“hey, sae? thanks for today,” you say later that night when everything is done and you’d had the giddiest experience with sae. he’s walking you home and he doesn’t even know why; it’s a mystery to him why he keeps himself close whenever he can.
“it’s fine, i was the one who told people i was going with you, so.”
when he gets you to your front porch, you don’t go in immediately, standing right there with your back facing him, and sae wonders what’s going through your head. if only he could see the expression on your face right now, maybe he’d know.
you let him; because you turn around, giving him a big smile before you take a step forward and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, immediately turning on your heel and running into your house.
neither of you say bye, both of you are just a little too stunned to speak. sae stands out there in the cold for a little while longer, his face and ears red—he’s not even sure whether it’s from the weather or from you—but even when he starts to leave, you’re still slumped at your front door, covering your face in embarrassment, knees too weak to stand up.
there’s only one more quarter left until you graduate and sae and you both act like nothing happened that day. you still gossip unfiltered and he still listens but acts like he doesn’t.
except now instead of sitting across from you, he opts to sit directly beside you. sometimes sits a little too close just so your arms will brush against each other. sae also lets you keep his puffy jacket because you said you liked it.
you wear it throughout winter.
when graduation comes around and it’s time for sae to choose his university, he can’t help but take a peek at your screen. a smile comes to his face when he sees your first choice is the same as his. you’re smart too, he doesn’t doubt you’ll get in.
“itoshi sae, you can smile?”
sae immediately turns it into a frown. “guess not.”
you take your words back. “hey, i’m just kidding! it’s just rare… that’s all.”
so you notice him a lot then?
sure, you might not have seen him smile a lot. but that’s fine. from what sae knows, you have the entirety of your university years to possibly catch it.
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UNIVERSITY: FRESHMAN YEAR
of course you enter the same university as itoshi sae. it’s not on purpose, but you’re glad you both made it here anyway.
at least knowing one friendly face is better than none.
to be honest, you’re not really sure where you and sae stand. he’s never said anything about that kiss, but he also doesn’t stay away from you. can you take that as a positive thing?
if anything, he’s even closer.
somehow, his dorms and yours are practically next door. when you open your bathroom window, you can look right into his. it happened once, by accident, and you’d caught him, shirtless with just a white towel hanging around his neck, hair damp as he brushes his teeth, the droplets of water on his abs looking very inviting.
but then he caught you staring and you’ve shut your bathroom window ever since. thankfully, he never mentions it.
being in university and staying in campus meant that you were both hanging out much more informally. and you’d think that two people at the age of nineteen who’d known each other for three years would be less awkward than this but it’s you and sae and somehow there’s always an element of awkwardness.
it’s halfway into your freshman year and you’d just watched the first match that sae’s playing for the university team. you’re a little starstruck, honestly. to think that the guy you’ve always had a crush on is this good at soccer.
he’s amazing. you’re feeling like a potato sack.
“hey, you know him right?” hime gushes.
your friends are with you, so it’s natural they ask.
mira on your left sighs, “guess we have no shot with him since he’s with y/n all the time,” she says, nudging you in the elbow.
you’re starting to regret bringing them here with all the teasing. you’re also regretting coming here yourself because you see several girls running to him asking for a picture together. some of which you recognise, some of which are the popular girls.
sae doesn’t stop them from snapping what they can, but he also doesn’t stop for them at all. instead, he saunters over to you, hime and mira wordlessly disappearing to the side.
“gimme that,” sae says, gesturing to the phone in your hand. you obey, of course, and he smirks, then he snaps a selfie with you before tossing your phone back and walking off.
the pairs of eyes on you make you half-embarrassed yet half-proud. even with this many fangirls, sae chooses to come to you.
that night sae asks you to send him the picture.
yeah, maybe you can take that as a positive thing.
freshman year after that is generally uneventful. you and sae are both trying to find your footing, with him preoccupied mostly with soccer trainings while you’re drowning in assignments and projects that have nothing to do with him.
but you still see him in the mornings sometimes, when you walk past your common room and he’s in his, and you wave at him when he’s alone so you’re not so shy, and he nods in acknowledgement before he just walks away.
one night while you’re burning the midnight oil trying to cram some accounting knowledge into your brain, you get a text from sae.
wanna get supper?
both of you end up at one of the supper spots outside of school, a little cosy shop that sells boba and ramen even after midnight.
“why’d you wanna get supper?”
sae shrugs, taking a sip of his plain water. “just bored, couldn’t sleep.”
“isn’t this soccer season? you can’t even eat anything in here, it’s definitely not passable for your diet.”
he sighs, leaning back against his chair. “so? quit whining and start eating your shit already.”
if it was some other guy you’d be rolling your eyes and storming off. but it’s sae and you know him and he thinks he’s talking normally like this. besides, when you catch his eyes flicker up to lock with yours you get a little dizzy inside.
“what’re you up so late for anyway?”
sae’s fingers are drumming lightly against the surface of the metal table, teal eyes diligently observing as you bring the strands of noodle to your lips. “told you, i couldn’t sleep.”
you find that strange; he’s always been able to sleep, no problem. and he’s strict about his eight hour sleep schedule. what could be getting to the great itoshi sae?
(sae’s lying through his teeth; having his bedroom right across from yours means he can see when your lights aren’t out. sue him for being a little concerned.)
“so, heard you and the team are going on a soccer trip somewhere in europe,” you bring up. you’d heard it from your friends, strangely, instead of sae himself.
he nods. “yeah, just a select few,” he tells you, “only if we win the tournament though, then the team’ll officially invite us over.”
so-called team you heard about is real madrid, and you’d be crazy to think that sae couldn’t help your university team win on his own.
“guess i won’t be seeing you around when you go,” you mumble idly, not completely aware of what you’re basically saying.
sae is adept at reading in between the lines, but he doesn’t probe you on it. he’s not sure he wants to. he doesn’t know what this is. do you still like him? does he like you too? all these feelings are new; sae doesn’t know what to do with it.
so he keeps it to himself. for now.
he doesn’t really do a good job at following through with it though, because on the day of the tournament finals, he looks at you and winks right as he orchestrates that winning goal for his team, and you’re left wondering if you’re imagining things.
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UNIVERSITY: SOPHOMORE YEAR
the final part of your freshman year went and gone, and it didn’t go exactly how you imagined it to be. you didn’t expect to hear from sae at all when he went on his trip after that tournament.
but you did.
he replied you whenever he had the time. told you anything you asked for. even called you when you had a mini meltdown because of finals.
to be frank, you don’t know what the both of you are anymore. you’re cursing yourself for being too scared to ask.
“hey y/n, have you seen hime anywhere?”
it’s oliver asking, captain of the university’s soccer team and also hime’s current situationship. he’d started hitting her up since that first time sae played and brought attention to you and the people around you.
“yeah, she’s by the pool with mira.”
oliver leaves as soon as you tell him, and you stand awkwardly at the corner of the living room, by the full panel of glass windows, wondering if you should just go home. you’d only came because hime and mira both said you needed to experience a party at least once this year but now you’re surrounded by people making out and drunkards slipping into the pool that it makes you regret giving this a shot at all.
especially since sae’s not going to be back till tomorrow, garnering as much interest as he did during his time in spain. you really have no reason to be here.
“hey there, pretty.”
startled, you find a familiar face up close in your personal space, his finger twirling your hair. you’d recognise that head of blonde and pink anywhere.
“oh, you’re ryusei shido right? you’re on the soccer team with sae,” you think out loud, and he nods, and you can see his blonde lashes so closely it’s making you flustered.
“mhm, fwhat’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a corner? seems like a shame,” he comments, though he doesn’t even give you a chance to answer. the next thing you know, shido drags you into a drinking game with hime and mira (which is why your first instinct wasn’t to run off, if you could trust anyone it’s your best friends). although, shido is getting annoyingly close and you can’t decide if you’re nervous or annoyed.
and the heavens surely love you when they let shido draw the card that corresponds to a dare, and they love testing your boundaries when some guy called otoya dares him to kiss you.
but no, you know that the heavens really do love you when someone yanks shido’s hair back and pulls him away from your face, taking his spot in between the both of you in the bid for proximity that you don’t mind because it’s itoshi sae.
“sae, what’re you doing here? i thought you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow,” you ask, a little shell-shocked but you still notice he’s discerning frown and how there’s barely any space between the two of you.
he looks at you, tilting his head, “what? my girl’s not happy to see me here?”
you don’t respond. half because you think you’re dreaming and fuck—really, did he just call you his girl?
“eh? i don’t recall you having a girlfriend?” shido leers, a hand on the spot of his head where sae had pulled on earlier.
“yeah, besides, shido still has to do the dare.” otoya sounds bored more than anything, but the guy beside him, karasu, if you remember correctly, is smirking.
sae sighs, and you feel like you must’ve crossed the boundary to another dimension when you feel sae’s lips on yours, and you think you’re in limbo when you feel his hand on your neck, pulling you close. his tongue pries your lips apart and people are whistling while shido’s behind him saying get a fucking room or i’ll beat off to this.
when the object of your affection finally pulls away, you’re met with the same pair of unbothered teal eyes, the pair that immediately turns to face otoya. “there, did it for him. now move on.”
you’re beginning to thank alcohol for its existence when almost everyone obeys wordlessly, moving on to some other guy’s turn. you really can’t remember who sits on shido’s right when all you can think of is that itoshi sae, your longtime high school crush, actually kissed you.
that’s enough to warrant the question, right? the question of what sae takes you for?
the inner debate sparks long into the night, even when sae walks you back to your apartment, the both of you side by side in silence.
“sae, what was that?”
he plays coy. “what was what?”
you’re only a little tipsy, so you can still tolerate his avoidance. “you confuse me a lot, you know that?”
sae doesn’t take the bait. “oh, i see.”
“you were jealous.” he was. he really was. you can tell; he was sour to shido the entire night. he stuck close to you too, sometimes your fingers brushed against each other’s.
“so what if i was?”
this one is new. sae’s actually admitting it. and usually you’d chicken out but you can see your apartment coming into view and you don’t want to let this go.
“what am i to you, sae?” you manage to choke it out a few feet away from the door, and sae stops in his tracks, hands in his pocket and teal eyes looking heavenward.
you’re beginning to regret your decision to ask; you’re not sure if his indecision is a good or bad thing. nothing seems to be simple when it comes to itoshi sae.
but he does nothing to appease your confusion when he steps in front of you, his body pressed flush against yours as he presses another kiss to your lips, and you think this one is special because it’s not done in the name of a dare or in front of anyone else. this kiss is for you and you alone and sae is doing this on purpose.
when he pulls back, you see him furrow his brows and you can tell that maybe he’s just as confused as you are.
“when i managed to get an earlier slot for my flight, all i could think about was how excited i was to see you.”
is this… a confession? you’re even more confused now that you don’t even know what to say.
to be honest, so is sae, which is why he swallows the lump in his throat and relegates to his apartment, “goodnight.”
things after that change just a little.
you’d decided to go with the flow, just because you really don’t want to sabotage whatever friendship you and sae had left, although most of the time, sae is the one toeing the line. even though he doesn’t outright tell you anything regarding his feelings.
but you think you figured him out.
sae asks you out whenever you’re both free, and not for shit like studying or errands, but for movies and dinner and he drives you around in his car and looks at you like you’re the only girl he sees. his eyes don’t wander when he’s with you, and he lets you wear even more of his jackets. it’s also evolved to his jerseys and his beloved windbreakers. you have one of each in your own closet and he never seems to ask for them back anymore. he also lets you wear his rings, puts them on your fingers randomly.
both of you still go for parties, especially when it’s one of the soccer guys who are throwing it, because they practically force sae to go and they know you’re the key to convincing him.
most of the time the two of you just laze on the couch, drinking and talking about nothing at all, and he idly plays with your fingers when he’s tipsy, something you never tell him because you like it, because you don’t want him to feel self-conscious and stop. he also smells your hair after he sends you home and hugs you before he retreats to his place, and you wonder if he’s fully sober when he does that.
you resign to getting your answer some other time, because you don’t want anything to ruin this, if this is just an illusion. yeah, you’d talking feelings some other time.
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UNIVERSITY: JUNIOR YEAR
you really had no right to be, but you are. try as you might, you can’t stop yourself from feeling the way you do. especially not when she’s sitting so so close to him, when her hand brushes his fingers.
she’s just his project partner, nothing more, but something irks you about the way she can get so close to him so quickly when it took you much longer. but then you hear from shido that kaori is rin and sae’s childhood friend, so maybe that’s why they’re so damn close.
apparently, she’d gotten back to japan after ten years abroad. with great timing too, right when you thought you and sae could amount to something.
“you know, i could help you make him jealous if you wanna,” shido whispers in your ear one time when he catches you staring at them. “we’ll make him feel how you feel, m’kay?”
and while that’s tempting, you shake your head. it’s unreasonable for you to take it out on him that way, not when he hasn’t actually done anything that proves he’s just leading you on.
lately sae’s been so busy around kaori that you’re just thinking too much. you’re wondering if he’s slowly replacing you. he still talks to you over text, but you barely hang out like you did before. you still spot him through the windows, but he’s always too tired to notice you. even his texts are getting slower.
“hey, you okay?”
trust it to hime to notice your personal dilemma. you’re not really surprised though, because she’s been watching you moping for the last few weeks. she now has oliver wrapped fully around her finger, with him sticking around her all the time, which is a surprise considering his reputation.
but hime will take your side, you know this, and maybe that’s why you play it off. you don’t want her to hate sae because of a momentary feeling, so you tell her you’re just sick and you’ll go back home.
the moment you get back to your apartment, you see sae waiting out on the front, car ready while he leans against the hood, waiting.
and you might’ve asked if he was waiting for kaori, but then he looks up and sees you and smirks and that’s all you need to know that he’s not. he was waiting for you, and now he’s opening the passenger side door and telling you to “get in, stupid.”
that’s how sae is with you, impromptu and surprisingly sweet. he drives you to the pier, a cute spot right next to an amusement park where he’d gotten you some candy floss before the both of you just sits on the hood of his car, enjoying the scenery.
“why’d you suddenly bring me here?”
sae lies down, the sun hitting his face in all the right places. he’s gorgeous, you realise for what seems like the thousandth time since you’d known him.
“oliver told me you’d been a little mopey lately,” sae says, and you’re already embarrassed. “sorry if i’ve been busy lately.”
you mirror his position, lying down next to him, and it feels oddly nice like this. you’re not sure if it’s the situation or the person.
“it’s okay, i heard that kaori’s your old friend right? you guys must have a lot to catch up on.” it doesn’t stop you from feeling jealous, but it’ll pass. you hope.
sae chuckles before he turns to you, and you turn to face him too, “you’re jealous.” he smirks, and you’re reminded of the same thing you told him that first night he kissed you.
“shut up, sae.”
he laughs because you’re being pouty, and because maybe it feels a little nice to know you can feel it too. just then, he mirrors what you did way back in high school, reaching across you for your phone. except he doesn’t key in anything—he opens up your camera and takes a picture of the two of you like this, sae looking naturally handsome and better than you because you’re stunned he’s doing this, eyes wide and expression puzzled.
“what’s that for?”
sae’s still fiddling on your phone as you ask, and then he passes it back to you. he’d set it as your phone’s wallpaper.
“to remind you that you’re the one i like, idiot.”
and even though you and sae aren’t physically too close in the wallpaper, you think maybe it’s enough to tide your feelings through for now. he doesn’t ask you for anything else after that, just leaves his confession at that and sends you home before saying he has to finish up his project, aka going to find kaori.
it’s fine by you though, because now you know where sae’s head’s at, even though he never explicitly asked you anything. you’re sure he knows how you feel too, especially since you’d been the one to kiss him first that day a few years back.
but how apt for you to go to sleep early and be woken up by dozens of messages blowing up your phone, the majority of them attaching pictures at a certain party.
still pictures of sae locking lips with kaori, and you feel your heart sinking.
sae’s message comes through just as you’re scrolling through your phone.
meet me at my place? not what it looks like, i promise.
and maybe it’s because you feel like you know sae well enough that you’re not even panicking. you respond within seconds.
sure, see you!
you take the liberty of going next door, entering when one of the other guys who lives there clumsily walks in drunk. it’s easy enough to find sae’s room, you recognise it from across your own room too well. and maybe it’s a slight invasion of privacy but you can’t help but turn your attention to his desk.
his room is all neat with the occasional laundry thrown on the corner of the room, trophies and medals on the bookshelf by the table. but what catches your eye is the little pink heart-shaped post-it note that looks all too familiar.
your handwriting fills the piece of paper.
i think you’re cute and i really really like you
you could cringe right now from how cringe you were being back then. but then you realise, sae kept this? did he keep this knowing it was from you? you hear the door opening downstairs and jump back a little, accidentally pressing on his keyboard while trying to place your note back in its position, and the screensaver that greets you renders you speechless.
it’s the picture sae took of the both of you at the bleachers of his first match.
someone closes the laptop before you can think any more, and you’re greeted with sae right next to you, cheeks flushed—either from alcohol or embarrassment. you can’t really tell, but judging from the lack of alcohol stench, you’d like to bet it’s the latter.
“you have me as your wallpaper?”
sae clicks his tongue, annoyed he didn’t get there in time for you not to see that. “who else would i put there?”
you bite your tongue to stop yourself from instinctively saying kaori out of spite. guess you’re still a little groggy from being woken up in the middle of the night.
“about earlier,” sae begins, not really sure how to continue.
“you mean the pics going around of you and kaori kissing?” you’re not even mad, you’re sure there’s an explanation—that’s how much you feel you know itoshi sae. he’s not the type to bother with leading someone on; if anything, he’s probably the type to immediately cut things off if he wasn’t interested and so far, he’s always been thinking of you.
sae sighs, rubbing his temple before taking a seat on his bed. “that was fucking stupid,” he grumbles, eyes closed. “she was way too tipsy and getting all up in my face and before i knew it she just—” his eyes are open now, briefly looking at you before looking away, hiding behind the sides of his soft locks, “she kissed me. i was stunned for a little so…”
you snicker a little, because sae looks so different from how he usually looks—aloof, ignorant, arrogant. now he looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the side and you can’t help but notice the difference.
“sae… why are you telling me this?”
screw his indecisiveness, if it was in the first place. you want his answer now, up straight. and sae seems to know what you’re thinking because he chuckles, relieved because he can read your tone—you’re not angry, not upset, you trust him somehow and it’s only because despite what you think, you know him better than anyone else.
“fuck off, y/n, you already know,” and he says this affectionately because you can feel the tenderness in the way he says your name, in the way he invites you into his arms—the way he pulls you close and lets you sit facing him on his lap. “you gonna be my girlfriend now or what?”
your lips are so so close and you’re both holding back so so much. “mmm i don’t know, itoshi sae, what if i wanna see you beg me for it?”
“god, i hate you,” he says, without meaning it. it’s the first time you’re actually feeling how strong he is, because he lifts you up from the back of your thighs and throws you on his bed as he hovers over you, a little squeal leaving your lips at the unexpected gesture. “hm, kinda like that sound you make.”
he’s saying it so monotonously that you’re embarrassed. “shut up, sae, before i leave.”
“that’s cute, you think you’d actually leave me,” he teases, and you curse yourself for finding that slight condescending tone of his hot. “but hey, really, be my girlfriend.”
“you asking me that after kissing another girl?” you act shocked, acutely aware of how his fingers are all intertwining with yours, your hands on either side of your head, sae pinning you down. if anyone walked in now, they’d get the wrong idea of what you two are doing. for sure. but you try to act unbothered, you don’t want to boost his ego even more.
sae leans down to press his forehead against yours, and you’re hoping your heart doesn’t leap out of your chest because he’d definitely feel it. “shit timing, i know. but you’re the only one i want, so.”
he’s pretty shit at talking emotions, you realise. and then you realise that this only works because you’re equally good at reading his. despite his reluctance to talk emotions, he shows you how special you are, constantly.
many girls want him, but you’re the one he spends most of his time with. you’re the one with his actual clothes in your closet and his rings on your fingers. you’re the one sae kisses and willingly so, the only one who’s on his wallpaper reminding him of what he’ll have each time he comes home.
“i told kaori i liked you and no one else too,” sae continues explaining, though he really doesn’t need to. you listen anyway. “she got mad and stormed off but shit, i don’t care. only care about you.”
and he’s pretty forthcoming with his feelings when he wants to be and that’s enough for you. you squeeze his fingers lightly and smile at him.
you don’t have to hear any more to know.
“i love you too, itoshi sae.”
the way he marks you that night lets you in on everything you need to know.
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UNIVERSITY: SENIOR YEAR
six years.
it’s been six years since you’d first had a crush on itoshi sae. and now you’re his girlfriend, always in the front row for every match and the object of most of his fangirls’ hatred. that’s okay though, none of that matters.
whenever you come back home to your (shared) apartment now, it’s like all your worries melt away into the void, and sae reminds you just how much you mean. even if his pet names are less than swoon-worthy at times.
“you really need to stop posting shit like this,” you deadpan, showing sae your phone screen. it’s a picture of you asleep in the morning, drooling on his bare shoulder.
sae blinks, acting coy like he always does. “what? it’s cute.”
“you’re insufferable, itoshi.”
sae ignores that, switching the subject. “hey, you have any goals for your twenties?”
you hum, pondering. “well, i guess if i could do what i want, i’d travel the world,” you pause, sitting up on the sofa and looking at him. “why?”
it’s the last year of university, and the both of you are finishing your degrees, with the possibility that sae might be getting a contract with one of the overseas clubs. you’re not really sure; there’s a few of them who’ve expressed interest, but you’d always let sae think through it on his own.
does his question have something to do with that?
“was thinking i wanted to take you along if you wanted to come with,” sae half explains, because he’s bad with details like that. he continues when he spots your confusion, “if you wanted to explore wherever i decided to go.”
oh, he means he wants to take you along to wherever he decided to go. you’re flattered, honestly.
“you mean, the itoshi sae wants to bring me wherever he goes, huh?” sae is already turning red, sensing your big head. “you offering to be my sugar daddy too?”
sae sighs. “you’re so stupid, i swear,” he complains, his words lacking any bite because he’s rubbing circles onto your arms. “you said you found some remote jobs right? thought we could make use of that and just go wherever together.”
after six years, you finally see sae trying to plan a future where the both of you are together. he loves soccer, but he loves you too, and you’re not the kind of person who’d make him choose, so you appreciate his compromises instead.
“itoshi sae, i’ll follow you wherever you go.”
he presses a hasty kiss on your lips, “good, ‘cause i plan on keeping you forever.”
you grin, pulling him down to you and kissing him even deeper, “i’ll hold you to your words, then.”
sae smiles against your lips. because he knows he got lucky with you, lucky you were there at the right moment, slipping your love letter into his locker. lucky you continued to like him, lucky you knew how to put him in his place whenever. lucky you’re you and you love him.
maybe he’s always liked you, even back in freshman year of high school when he realised how kind you are, how gentle you could be. you looked pretty in the sun that day, when he first saw you trying out soccer in the yard and falling flat on your ass. you didn’t notice him back then but he noticed you, not that you knew. sae didn’t try anything because he was sure it’d fail. but who knew all it took for his mind to change was a simple nudge from you?
he’s pretty sure that you’re his human manifestation of a forever.
“when the time comes, just say yes.”
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mphountitled · 6 months
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𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 | 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐧
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Hazel Callahan x F!Reader
Summary: "Jesus, dude, do you know what it means when a gay girl says they wanna have a "slumber party?"
Warnings: Hyper Feminine!Reader, Language, Fluff, Jealousy, Humor, Reader has a crush, Confessions, Teasing, Smut (+18, Minors DNI), Dom!Hazel, Humping, Grinding, Masturbation, Pillowprincess!Reader tbh, Thigh Riding, Public sex, Risky Sex, Massive Degradation Kink, Power Play, Ownership Kink?, Praise Kink, Slight!Hate sex ♡
Part two >
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Hazel Callahan was rarely included into anything vaguely external, she would venture to say that she was even rarely included in her own thoughts. Therefore, infuriatingly, painfully aloof Hazel thought nothing of the invite you had presented to the entire group at Fight Club.
Why should she feel special?
Things like this seldom warranted her definite response, so when all the girls had affirmed their attendance, Hazel was... discombobulated to find a silence of anticipation growing pregnant in the gym.
It took a sharp stab in the ribs from PJ for Hazel to swing her head back into this specific reality in the space-time continuum. A reality in which you sat adjacent to her in a circle, legs crossed dainty underneath you to better accommodate the neatly pressed pleads in your pink skirt. There was nothing remarkably profound from you carrying yourself like the pretty princess you thought you were, what strikes Hazel as odd, however, was the look of expectancy in your dark eyes- a look you directed at… her?
"What?"
"You're coming? To my slumber party tonight?" you reiterate stifling the need to pat down at your braids corralled into a pink headband. You are basking under the scrutiny of her gaze but you also happened to suffer under it too. The longer Hazel watched you with furrowed brows, and her knee propped up to her chest, the longer you keened forward as if desperate to hear her say-
"Of course she's coming," PJ once again injects herself in between the two of you. "We'll all be there," You're perhaps nodding at PJ and Josie but your eyes are unable to leave the absolute prison that Hazel has them in. She does nothing except nod as well, before leaving you to your clique who all sit prettily under clouds of Chanel number 5.
The interaction replayed within the confines of Hazel's head throughout the rest of the school day. Right up until she finds herself, nestled in a car with Josie and PJ, taking the short drive in the more affluent neighbourhood from her place to yours.
"So, Hazel," the lascivious tone in PJ's voice already has her rolling her eyes as the car slows before an egregious house. "Are you ready to lose your virginity tonight?"
"Jesus Christ-" Murmurs Josie before PJ assumes what is expected to be your tone of voice- only its a hyperbolic and a higher in pitch reenactment of the real thing.
"Oh Hazel! I'd really like for you to come to my slumber party tonight!" All three girls leave the car as PJ continues her comedic display of seduction as she brushes up against Hazel and says "I really want you at my slumber party."
Hazel laughs as PJ grabs a hold of her upper arm, exposed from her open black button up and tank top. "You're coming right?" PJ sobers up as she says, "That's hot girl speak for "You're going to be cumming inside me-"
Josie does not keep her eyes off the approaching house as she interjects with, "Girls can't cum in other girls"
"Wow!" Hollers PJ, "-And here I was thinking you actually believed that girls can do everything that guys can do-"
"Wait," Hazel's eyes are on her shoes as she readjusts her tote bag and says, "You think she actually wants to like... fuck?" She lowers her voice drastically in the wake of making it up to your front door as she bends and reiterates, "Like actually fuck me?"
There is, frankly no time for Hazel to get a firm response on such a discombobulating thought because you quickly open the front door, and your skin is glowing everywhere from being completely exposed in your pink satin shorts and matching camisole set. Your hair is still loose as it frames your face- your round and constantly smiling face. Why had Hazel never noticed you until now?
Perhaps she did.
Perhaps she negated the possibility of forming a crush on you because you appeared so painfully… straight?
But here you are, smiling at her and only her. Your eyes had been bright at the sight of Hazel and her button up and how outrageously attractive she looked in a tank top but your smile dims significantly when you peer down at PJ'S hand still wrapped around Hazel's forearm.
"H-Hey," Said Hazel, with her voice that reminded you so vividly of a midnight snowstorm,
"Hey," you replied back, quickly turning away. Your mood had already been cemented for the rest of the evening. Despite it being your slumber party, you let your best friend host while you continued to wallow in the regret of your own unshakeable feelings. You hated that PJ and Hazel were very clearly a couple, but what you hated perhaps more, was that you still wanted her. You stole longing glances at her in your space, lazing on your bed while the rest of you sat encircled on the floor in sleeping bags. Hazel completely hijacked your entire brain throughout all the games and activities.
You had lost yourself in her presence and that only kicked up a notch when you felt a pair of forearms lazily splay onto your shoulders from above. With your bum still on the floor and your back against the foot of your bed, Hazel had decided to humour her turn in Truth or Dare. While she answered, she let her legs frame your body. So that it swung over the side of the bed, perfectly framing your sides.
Breathing had been impossible. So impossible in fact, you didn't know it was your turn until it took Hazel bringing her lips down to your ear. Your nerves had been shot to hell as she whispered, "Dove, it's your turn."
You cursed this idea and you cursed this wretched slumber party.
Luckily, It passed by in a significant blur that left you still riding on the high of being in Hazel's personal space until bedtime at 1am. While the girl's drifted into their own sleep, your eyes remained on the pink chandelier hanging from your ceiling while you cradled your stuffed frog to your chest. No matter how hard you try, sleep is a difficult thing to come by. You are left to your thoughts of the girl sleeping on the floor, while gentle snores sounded in the room.
"Fuck," you almost instinctively mutter as you find your hand drifting past your navel. You spread your leg ever so slightly before pushing your hand into your underwear. The quicker you came, the quicker your body could finally be allowed to slip into actual slumber. It sounded like a solid plan, and you had already taken to grinding your wet cunt against your hand- until it all went to hell and your duvet is being pulled slightly off of you.
You're quick to remove your hand and grab a hold of your covers as your eyes snap open to stare at the silhouette above you. Hazel's hair is a spectacular mess on her head and her skin shines orange from the glow of your salt lamp.
"Let me in," she whispers, not really waiting for a response before she's forcing herself into your covers, scooching you on the right side of the bed.
"What are you-"
"Shh," it's embarrassing, how quick you are to snap your mouth shut and heed her commands. Hazel's stomach warms significantly at how docile you are and she smiles as she says, "I cant sleep and I had the vague suspicion that you couldn't either." Hazel says, propping her exposed forearm under her head as she looks up at your ceiling. Her button up is discarded somewhere in the room, leaving her in basketball shorts and a tank but you're not complaining. Not at all.
"I told myself I'd be more intentional with my actions, and my actions are telling me to kiss you right now, but my feelings are telling me you might not want that." You're corraled into stark and naked shock as you watch the girl you've always wanted, confess to you in your bed. It feels unreal. The longing stares, the hours you've spent writing amatuer poetry in your notes app about her, the amount of times you made yourself cum with her heavy on your mind.
This does not feel real.
"Jesus," your voice is uncharacteristically coarse as you rush to say, "Dude, do you know what it means when a gay girl says they wanna have a "slumber party."
Hazel appears stunned as she watches you with wide eyes, "Well yeah," Says Hazel, "but… do you know what it means?"
"I've liked you since junior year," Your confession has her mind going hazy as she tries to recall all the subtle hints which she effortlessly discarded as you just being kind.
"God, you're such an idiot!" You release a chuckle that momentarily stirs a sleeping girl laying closest to the bed in her sleeping bag.
"Shh," Hazel's finger is pressed softly to her lips, you nod slowly only able to process mimicking her own actions.
"What were you doing just a second ago?" She says, swiftly removing the attention from her and her stupidity, replacing the atmosphere instead, with something much more dangerous. There's a difference in her whispers, a tone that has you melting into the covers as you unconsciously squeeze your legs shut. In this moment, she could ask anything of you, and you would simply comply. The silence stretches like honey between the two of you, and Hazel watches with doe eyes as you sink into your shame.
"You don't have to say anything." She finally whispers back, freeing you from your internal damnation but not completely letting you off the hook as she continues: "Just move your hips for me." It was an aggressively passive instruction that exploded a bundle of charged electricity between your legs. You are trapped in a distinctly uncomfortable position between wanting to comply, but wanting to be stubborn. The discomfort of these emotions are not entirely unwanted.
"Do you want me to show you how?" There is a challenging glint in her eyes that simulates the peroration of whatever the hell this is that you are both about to do.
This non-relationship which is so innately a relationship.
"Yeah." Your voice rocks with the signs of an oncoming tempest alerting your body to the possibility of something very, very exciting on the horizon.
Time and space seems so few and far in-between as Hazel keeps you arrested in those blue, endless hues. Examining her features keeps your wanton, unwinding nerves chaotically at bay. There is an intense exchange of control as Hazel shuffles closer, until her head is resting on your pillow and your both breathing into each other's parted lips.
She almost restlessly sets her palm onto your body, her hands on a slow path down your hips. It gives you a sliver of control knowing that bubbling behind her dilated pupils is a need that haunts her just as greatly.
"I'm gonna show you, okay?" She does not need to repeat herself but you recognize her words for what they are: masked behind the excitement and the charged atmosphere, is a real, and genuine need for consent.
The very moment you hopped over this threshold, you would forever be locked in a world anew. There would be no take backs. Your actions would forever be transcribed on the sacred tablet of our shared history.
"Are you going to show me, Hazel?" Desire is seated comfortably on top of your lungs and you speak only in soft pants, "Because it really feels like you're all bark and no bite."
There is a flash of excitement that sweeps momentarily over her lidded lustful gaze.
Her hands are much more sure of themselves as they lock into your sides, her fingers digging rudely into your silk pyjama bottoms.
"Shouldn't you be taking those off?" You ask cheekily.
A scoff slips through her lips as she shifts just a tad closer, her face now centimetres from yours. "You're awfully needy." Hazel whispers, "It's incredibly embarrassing."
What would prove to be even more embarrassing is the jarring way your hips stutter the very moment those words leave Hazel's lips. Your accidentally whorish slip up might have gone unnoticed were it not for the annoying fact that her right leg was seated quite cosily between your legs.
"Shut up," is all you manage to say - a desperate attempt at scrambling for your dignity crumbling in the bed between you.
Hazel laughs airly. Slowly, her hands at your hip begin to move, subsequently allowing your hips to move. A soft and slow moan passes through your lips, drowned out by the sound of sleeping girls as your eyes flutter shut.
"Hey," Hazel's lips are fully touching yours now, "Look at me." She could've never anticipated how the fucked out look in your eyes could ever make her feel. Your eyebrows are curved, as if you're in pain as you hump slowly against her thigh. The coarseness of the silk and her thigh pressing against your aching cunt… it makes everything feel so overwhelmingly real, unmarred by great expectations. The thump of her heart underneath your palm is so incredibly real. The beads of sweat growing pregnant on her forehead are real. Her dry, parted lips pressed against yours is in fact real.
"What are you thinking about?" It strikes you then that you had been a muddled, mindless haze, humping against her thigh with an urgency.
"I'm thinking about you." You reply, truthfully.
"Good things, I hope?" It is so unimaginable, the way her voice is able to remain so incredibly steady while yours is as shaky as a walrus thumping across an icy lake.
"I don't suspect anyone has ever had a single good thought about you." You shoot back and the fingers gripping your hips lock tighter, nearly prompting you to apologise.
The only other option left for you to exhaust is clamping your mouth shut as Hazel's hand assumed a much more aggressive administration. She grips on the plush skin at your sides with an unnecessary hardness, as if she wanted to tear in into you.
"See, I was gonna fuck you," it is absolutely shameful, the whimper that escapes your lips, "But now I'm gonna make you hump my leg like the slutty little girl you are." Before you could scold her, or perhaps violently disagree, rudely, before your cries of indignation could ever be forced out, Hazel is lifting you up from your side of the bed, her head shifting until her brown curls cover your pillow fully.
She turns onto her back, never releasing eye contact as she forces you down so you're straddling her steepled knee. The new position leaves you searching for a new anchor.
"Your hands are pushing down on my hair-" she grumble-whispers.
"If you'd let me finish faster that wouldn't be as much of a problem now, would it?" Hazel's response, in lieu of her thoroughly unimpressed face, had been to grind her thigh further against your core, eliciting a wanton, broken moan into the air.
"You're gonna have to be quiet, Dove." Her voice is gravel, "Wouldn't want anyone seeing how much of my whore you are, would you?" The sound of your own moans slam back into you as you press your pussy incredibly closer to her leg.
"Imagine what they might think of you? Our little star pupil getting herself off on my leg? Is that really all it takes to please you?" Staying quiet had become an unimaginable feat, a mountain that becomes even more difficult to surmount when Hazel's eyes search frantically over your crippling form for a trigger that might send you over the edge.
You couldn't begin to imagine how powerful she must feel watching your hips move wantonly on her thigh while your hooded eyes displayed desperation.
You feel so thoroughly hers, a previous existence in which you went without her hard ministrations guiding you to orgasm felt completely in vain. You want nothing more than to be so incredibly good to her, and the thought that she might want the same way sends you to an early grave.
"You're doing so well, Baby. Keeping going." An embarrassing wave of pleasure ripped straight through your spine leaving a trail of shivers in its wake. There is no mistaking that your reaction to her praise and her validation had not gone unnoticed.
Your pussy is completely soaked against her leg, burdened with the knowledge that it wants something but it didn't exactly know what.
"I need you," you whisper. Before your own shame might wave away the pleasure, you are delighted at the moan that slips through Hazel's parted lips.
You had been so thoroughly enamoured by your own pleasure, you had not stopped to consider hers. The pillow princess stereotype brought with it a wave of shame as you looked down and found her hips stuttering slowly against yours.
"I'm right here, Dove."
And you both began to melt for each other. Your legs are tangled in one another while her thigh is pressed against your clit at the same time your thigh is pressed between her legs as well.
You are pleasantly surprised when you begin to feel the fabric of Hazel shorts moving against your own legs slotted in between her. You didn't have to picture how gloriously lecherous it might have looked, using each other so blatantly to fulfil a need that had begun simmering since forever. "Oh fuck, you're so pretty," her hand finds purchase against your breast, tweaking your nipples until they hardened against the camisole while her other hand was comfortably gripping your jaw, staring up at you with lustful eyes.
"You don't even know how perfect you look right now," you did not speak a word of a lie. Watching Hazel's long and domineering form writhing underneath you is a mental image you wish to keep stored in your chest of sacred memories forever. It is discombobulating, watching someone so used to walking so tall and unbothered, being made a complete mess underneath you.
You never wanted this moment to end.
"I want you to kiss me." She croaks, despite already bringing your face close to hers by the strength of a single grip. Her eyes search yours for something. You only hope that grinding yourself even faster against her leg is a testament to whatever it is she might've been looking for. Soon, her lips crash onto yours. When Hazel Callahan kisses, she kisses sloppily and disastrously as if she wanted to swallow you whole before you ever thought of escaping. Her lips are all encompassing, her tongue is restless, pushing itself into your mouth with avid determination.
You moan softly into her mouth. A sound she appreciates greatly given the way her hips began to move against your thigh with a matching ferocity. Her hand slithers along your back, until she cups a handful of your ass, dragging your pussy once again against her, at her desired pace.
Rough. Arresting. Frantic.
"You're being too loud," She sighs, breaking away from your lips to trail them down your neck. "You're being too fucking loud-"
"Fuck, Hazel I'm close-" Your legs are locked against hers but the hand on your ass keeps your hips moving by proxy. "I'm so close."
"You're gonna cum for me, Dove?"
"Oh God, I love it when you call me that-" There is an embarrassing pool of wetness accumulated between your legs, dripping through your shorts and onto her skin. She is equally as wet and that fact only spurs you on.
"I need you to cum for me, baby?" Her stuttering hips told you her own release is dangerously close, sitting on the horizon. Perhaps your orgasm had bled into something prideful, her need to make you cum first caused her to delay her own release.
"You're fucking unbelievable." You sigh with troubled realisation.
She uncovers herself from your chest, panting heavily without her hips ever stopping. "You're gonna cum first, okay?" She nods, persuading you to mimic her movements because despite everything, you are putty in her hands.
"Okay."
As she kisses you once more her hand travels back to your now exposed boob. Between your kiss, Hazel had somehow managed to haphazardly lift your camisole enough to expose your breasts.
A straggled sound leaves the back of your throat as your orgasm crested.
She succeeded in making a mess of you. Your hair had been set free, braids spilling like wild snakes down your torso.
"Oh God, oh fuck-" a hand slaps over your mouth. Hazel's eyes are wide as she continues to guide your hips to release.
"Such a good little Dove, aren't you?" Your eyes are blown with stars and pixie dust as you nod drunkenly. She's humping your thigh and you're humping hers and soon the orgasm sneaks up on you, stealing your breath right from inside your lungs. Your strangled moan is muffled by her palm.
Her eyes take it all in with a very certain hunger, drifting from watching her own hips grinding your thigh, to the choked expression of utter euphoria splashed against your face.
"Fuck, baby." Her Eyebrows knot as her breathing picks up. The pressure visibly building across her face is nearly enough to send you back into your pool of euphoria.
"Oh fuck- oh baby," The wave of pleasure that courses through her is violent and incredibly validating. It is you who had gotten her to this point, humping your leg so desperately as if it might be the only thing she could ever hope to achieve. For someone who had built such a notable reputation for always mainting an I-dont-give-a-fuck mentality, this feels like an immense achievement for you.
Once the smoke clears, and Hazel finds herself back on planet earth, the relics of her euphoria register as intermittent aftershocks. The dawn of what you had just done begins to settle and almost instinctively, you revert to your teasing.
"How nice of you to finally join us," you are still hovering above her, her long neck craning to look at you.
"You talk a lot of shit for someone who squeaks when she cums."
The dampness between your legs is a reminder. "You're gonna learn to take just as much as you give sooner or later," You don't miss the hint of a promise thinly veneered along that whisper. Choosing to ignore the fluttering in the pit of my stomach at the sound of it alone, you climb off of her and back to your space on the bed.
"What's its name?" Hazel asks, peering into the darkness to bring your stuffed frog back into your arms. "You strike me as someone who gives their stuffed toys names."
You're still out of breathe as you reply, "Texas,"
She cracks a smile at that. Before you can finally drift off, a hand slips across your hip, trailing over your torso before brushing over your breast and staying there. "I'm gonna buy you one...I wanna watch you hump it like you just did my leg okay?"
All you're able to do is nod.
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mirkoluvs · 9 months
Text
★ GETTING INTO AN ARGUMENT WITH MHA CHARACTERS (PT. 2)
characters: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki
genre: comfort !!
notes: find part 1 here !! i’ve been busy with stuff, sorry for not getting this out sooner!
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izuku midoriya
- a day had passed since he flipped out at you
- he knew he messed up but you were letting him know he messed up.
- every time he texted you he’d always end up being left on read or delivered.
- even at school when he tried to come up to you, you’d always end up running towards somebody else and joining into a conversation with them.
- he wasn’t going to give up until he finally talked to you and figured things out though
- which is how he ended up in front of your dorm room door at 9 pm at night.
izuku let out a nervous exhale before raising his fist to knock on your door. fighting his nerves, he shook his head and hit his fist against it gently. “coming!”, you chirped, pushing yourself out from your desk to answer the door. a faint smile arose on his face at the sound of your positive voice, but quickly got washed away by nerves once he saw the door begin to open. when you opened the door and saw izuku there, you rolled your eyes, beginning to shut the door, but you were quickly stopped by izuku shoving his foot into the space between the door, slipping his hand in as well so he had a hold on the door. “y/n, please talk to me”, he muttered, trying to look you in the eyes. “hasn’t enough been said? what happened to you and your “limits”?”, you sarcastically asked, putting emphasis on the limits part. he sighed, looking down at the ground. “listen, please. i really, really didn’t mean all of that. i was just so overwhelmed and exhausted but i know that doesn’t excuse me snapping on you like that. i don’t know where i’d be without you watching over me all the time”, he spoke, his voice was passionate and somewhat shaky. “i love you so much, y/n. i wouldn’t be where i am without you, and i’m so, so sorry for taking that all out on you”, he finished. only hearing silence back from you, he got nervous. slowly looking up, he was faced with the sight of you with tears glistening in your eyes. his eyes widened as he panicked. “oh no… i’m sorry, i’m sorry! was it something i said? shit-“, “no- no, you’re fine, zuku. this is perfect, actually. thank you”, you cut him off, a small tear falling down your face as you quickly wiped it away. izuku sighed as he pushed the door out of the way and pulled you into a hug. “i love you so much and i’m so sorry”, he told you again, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “it’s okay, i love you too”, you sighed, snuggling into his hold. “i thought you were gonna break up with me for a second…”, he confessed. you let out a laugh at this, causing him to laugh a bit as well. “i’d have to go crazy to break up with you”.
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katsuki bakugo
- yeah… he was losing it 💀
- he expected you to get over the whole situation overnight and things would go back to normal the next day, but it was the complete opposite.
- you ignored him constantly throughout the entire day.
- even when he’d call out your name, you’d act like you didn’t hear anything.
- his final straw was when you tried to walk home without him.
- that’s when he snapped, he was tired of the hard feelings between you two and he couldn’t deal with it anymore, he wanted to fix it.
you felt a hold on your wrist that caused you let out a slight shriek, but you quickly calmed down when seeing who’s touch it was. of course, it was katsuki. “are we gonna talk about this or are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”, he asked, and surprisingly he seemed genuine too. “you made it known what place this relationship has in your life, i really don’t see what else there is to talk about”, you answered, your voice raw and harsh. he hated this side of you, and he hated being the reason for it. “i don’t- can you just listen to me?”, he somewhat begged, his voice quickly descending from annoyance to calmness. your eyes somewhat widened at his urgency. it wasn’t often that you saw him be so vulnerable in a sense, honestly you don’t ever recall seeing him like this. “i’m listening”, you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at him, waiting to hear what he could possibly say. you had a hard time believing that he was actually about to take accountability for everything because based on previous events, he didn’t seem like the type to do so, ever. “ok… i know i fucked up. i’m not gonna stand here like a moron and act like there was a good reason for forgetting our anniversary because there wasn’t. i was just caught up with all my training that it slipped my mind, but i know that doesn’t make up for shit. and all those things i said last night, i didn’t mean it. any of it, i was being fuckin’ careless with my words. it wasn’t “just some anniversary”, it’s a big ass milestone, i know that and i wanna make it up to you. i treated you like straight shit and i regret it so, so bad. i… i’m sorry”, he spoke firmly, making sure you knew his words were genuine, and you definitely did. your eyes were blown open, shocked at the speech he just gave. you never thought you’d ever see him so apologetic or ever hear him say things like these. you could feel tears pricking your eyes, but you quickly pushed them away, letting out a soft giggle. he raised an eyebrow but quickly lost his composure when you jumped into his arms, holding onto him tightly. “t-thank you katsuki. this means the world to me, seriously. i forgive you”, you sniffled, hiding your face in his neck. he let out a chuckle, hugging you back. “yeah, yeah. and i’m serious ‘bout what i said, im gonna take my sweet girl on a proper anniversary date, alright?”, he smirked, rubbing your back. “yeah, that sounds perfect”.
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shoto todoroki
- the difference between shoto and the other two is that he didn’t even wait till the next day to talk to you 😭
- he wanted to make things right between you two and fast, you knew how much he hated ending things on a bad note between you two.
- he made his way to your dorm, determined to gain your forgiveness
- it was when when he got to your dorm and heard sniffling from the outside, his heart ached. he knew how bad he messed up.
leaning against the door separating you from him, he heard soft sobs and sniffles, causing his heart to ache a bit. he never wanted to be the one responsible for your tears and sadness. he was meant to be the person to take that all away from you, but yet here he was, being the reason you were crying alone in a dark room late at night. he gently knocked against the door, and once he did the noises behind the door came to an immediate stop. “y/n, it’s me… can we talk?”, he asked, his fist still on the door as he waited for an answer. a few seconds went by, nothing. he knew you were in there, so he figured you were either ignoring him or just didn’t want to face him. “i know you’re in there, but i understand if you don’t want to talk to me right now… i’ll still say what i have to say anyway”, he started, clearing his throat. on the other side of the door, you were scooting closer to the door, wanting to hear what he had to say. you weren’t going to open the door, you couldn’t face him with how much of a mess you were in. you didn’t want him to see you in such a weak state because of him. “i’m so sorry for what i said earlier. i didn’t mean any of it. my father gave me a hard time when i visited and natsuo was also pushing it with him, it was just a mess. that’s why i was so upset, but that doesn’t matter anymore. i should’ve talked to you instead of holding it all in. it’s like you said, if i keep holding in all my problems, i’ll burst, and that’s what happened. you didn’t deserve that at all, and i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean any of it”, he confessed. he waited a couple moments, praying that you’d respond. when he heard nothing, he rested his forehead against the door, sighing. “i’m not leaving until i know you’re okay”, he muttered. little did he know on the other side of the door, you were tearing up all over again. you quickly stood up, unlocking the door and whipping it open as you jumped into his arms. he was startled but quickly wrapped his arms around you, sighing with relief. “i love you, sho… it’s all fine now, i forgive you”, you told him, your voice a bit shaky as you smiled, hiding you face in his neck. “i love you so much more”, he muttered. he took you out of his arms for a moment, taking your face into his hands. he let out a sad sigh at your bloodshot eyes and red nose, feeling so guilty. “i’m sorry, so sorry my love”, he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and then your forehead. “it’s alright now, just promise me you’ll talk to me from now on, ‘kay?”, “i promise”.
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© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
2K notes · View notes
dollopi · 3 months
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missed kiss ── mikey sano. 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
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mikey is in love with you.
it's the type of secret everyone is aware of, an open secret you're not allowed in on for obvious reasons; though that hasn't stopped you from catching emma's incessant giggling whenever he's caught staring at you, nor draken's spared glances whenever mikey manages to speak to you.
it's just that type of infatuation, the one where he just can't seem to get close to you, watching you from afar with adoration in his eyes.
mikey is in love with you.
emma, ever the instigator, has been inviting you around the house more and more often, and for that exact reason he's been lingering around like a ghost.
his friends can't help but laugh once he's got a word in with you, as mikey goes on and on and on; unable to help himself while you're sitting close, listening so intently.
mikey is in love with you.
and here he is, unable to deny baji's triple-dog-dare he stands by the school gate, anxiously awaiting you.
you can immediately tell something is up, and with clammy hands and a strained smile, mikey offers you a ride home.
speeding through traffic as if he has something to prove, you make it home in record time, waving goodbye and rushing off with the titter of your feet.
you're in love with mikey.
it's the type of secret you've mistakenly reserved for emma, who's put her entire might into pushing the two of you together.
you're sure she's long told draken, who's incessantly nudging you, gruffly pestering you to just tell him already, damn.
you're in love with mikey.
you think baji might know as well, with how he's shoving mikey's shoulder, not-so-discreetly pointing to you.
mikey's long gone pale as well, and you can feel your heart sink into your gut when baji guffaws, loudly labelling him a weakass.
you're in love with mikey.
he might have an inkling by now, and you're not faring any better as he takes you home, mentally preparing for an agonizing rejection.
but mikey doesn't say a word as you dismount the bike, waving your goodbye and trudging toward the front door, before he's suddenly gripping onto your sweater.
mikey is in love with you, and you're in love with mikey.
he doesn't tell you otherwise through his strained confession, unwavering hold only loosening once you've properly heard him out.
and you do so with no protest, for what purpose would it make when you're feeling the exact same way?
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jojikawa · 4 months
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The Princess and the Delinquent 🎀🖤
Highschool AU — Delinquent!Ryomen Sukuna, Popular!Reader, Little Brother Yuuji, is Mostly SFW apart from AU Sukuna being a horny young adult.
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artist: yom
Delinquent!Ryomen who’s been staring at you every day since you’ve transferred to his school. His attraction towards you was nearly immediate. You were just so soft-looking and pretty.
Delinquent!Ryomen who tells himself that he will emotionally distance himself from you once he finds out you’re already taken but he fails miserably, settling for admiring you from afar.
Delinquent!Ryomen who learns that you had a nasty breakup with the guy and now you’re really heartbroken because you’ve been dating that guy since grade school.
Delinquent!Ryomen who begins messing with you during the classes the two of you have together. He sits behind you, tugging your hair if it’s long enough to go down your back, moving your chair more towards him with his foot and even getting bold enough to throw things at you like candy wrappers and small crumpled sticky notes.
Delinquent!Ryomen who scares off any guys that seem like they may be trying to pursue a relationship with you, leaving you wondering why no guys ever approach you after your break up.
Delinquent!Ryomen who you’re forced to partner up with because of your consistently high grades and his consistently low ones.
Delinquent!Ryomen who nicknames you princess when he experiences just how soft and frilly yet demanding you are when you try to get him to do his half of the work.
Delinquent!Ryomen who gets in a fight and is almost expelled because he heard some guy in the locker room saying something vulgar about you. He doesn’t mention this to you at all to protect your feelings. 
Delinquent!Ryomen who eventually opens up after your excessive help to keep his grades up. You end up tolerating him a lot more too which he is grateful for.
Delinquent!Ryomen who you actually find kinda cute once your heartbreak begins to subside.
Delinquent!Ryomen who leaves unsigned love letters in your locker, just to convince you that some sad lonely loser left them instead once you mention it to him: 
You: “Ryomen…someone keeps putting these notes in my locker.”
Ryo: “I wonder who’s gonna tell that poor freak you’re not into him.”
You: “Well, I want to know because they’re actually kinda sweet.”
Ryo: “Wait, really?!”
Delinquent!Ryomen who kisses you in the hallway in front of everyone on Valentine’s Day because you felt sad and left out about not getting a present.
Delinquent!Ryomen who confesses his feelings shortly after.
Delinquent!Ryomen who is extremely surprised about you returning his feelings and kissing him back because why would a pretty princess like you want anything to do with him?
Delinquent!Ryomen who invites you to his house for homework after school where you meet his adorable kid brother, Yuuji. He was a sweet, curious toddler who immediately latched onto you the moment you got in the door.
Delinquent!Ryomen who you scold for bullying the poor child because he annoyed him.
Delinquent!Ryomen who gets bored of homework so soon and pulls you into his bed with him instead. You sorta get the vibe that he’s sorta lonely and isolated because others find him scary.
Delinquent!Ryomen who makes you his security blanket, melting into your chest and falling asleep before you could even say anything about it.
Delinquent!Ryomen who randomly asks if you’re on birth control or not while he’s walking you home. He does not elaborate why but you sorta get it.
Delinquent!Ryomen who uses his bathroom break to peer into the windows of whatever class that the two of you don't share to stalk you. If you see him watching you then he smirks before waving at you and disappearing. If you don’t notice him, he will tap the window, alerting the entire class and earning himself detention.
Delinquent!Ryomen who gets you in trouble so that you can be stuck in detention with him. 
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🎀 — @ameliabs-world
756 notes · View notes
belokhvostikova · 11 months
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Following Friday’s events, Eddie Munson was on a mission to apologize to you, though everything fell short when your life began to crumble in a matter of hours.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, self-deprecating thoughts, violence, experienced anxiety and panic attack, mentions of childhood abuse and neglect, and brief mentions of blood, body shaming, and non consensual touching.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | For the sake of my sanity, I'm going to need all of you to ignore the blatantly unrealistic process of making a book in this story, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡
Whatever mantra of the Munson Doctrine Eddie had been feeding himself to believe about the highest of the social hierarchy embedded within Hawkins High was really starting to fall short, specifically when your pretty face started monopolizing every one of his thoughts imaginable. 
As much as he’d like to admit otherwise, Eddie Munson liked staring at your face, and it was really starting to piss him off just how much he really liked doing it. And the situation only became worse when he steadily watched your wonted bewitching smile fade into a disheartened look of dejection, because that following weekend after your impromptu photo shoot with Hellfire, became the worst week of your life.
And Eddie Munson watched it entirely unravel right in front of him.
It never really occurred to Eddie just how much he’d casually gawk at you prior to said photo shoot. I mean, you were the face of the school, of course, you were hard to miss when you practically lit up the halls with your smile. And that’s merely what Eddie had chalked it up to; your popularity involuntarily placed you at the forefront of his attention. It wasn’t the small strands of baby hairs that perfectly framed your face, whether you decided to keep your hair natural, or styled it for the fun of it; it wasn’t your enthralling eyes that seemed to almost squint close because your cheeks became so full of delight with your spellbinding laugh; and it definitely wasn’t your apologetic reassurance that everything was okay to the kid from the drama club who accidentally bumped into you, causing you to drop your books, and you gave Andy McAvoy a stern talking to when he tried to defend your honor with violence against the poor kid. 
No, it was none of that that caught Eddie Munson’s attention to you (he forced himself to believe).
But now, things are different.
He’d actually gotten a chance to talk to you—yes, that cafeteria instance was the first time Eddie Munson had ever actually spoken to you, and he berated you with dehumanizing comments—and he blew it with his rash decision to automate you into a box of prissy cheerleaders that had nothing better to do than gossip with their friends- ah yes, that box, that was formulated by sexist losers who used it to justified their mean actions against innocent teenage girls. Oh, fuck, Eddie cringed to himself at the sudden self-realization. 
He had to fix this. He didn’t even have to confess his feelings—which, he didn’t have *cough* *cough*—he just had to apologize for his mistakes. What he wanted to believe to be patronizing was actually sincere on your part, and you didn’t deserve any of his degrading tirade. And his conscience was letting it be known. Resuming the campaign had been a shit-show that Friday, when all he could focus on was your crying face. It became even worse when he realized that he’d never actually seen you drive—always painfully third-wheeling with Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham, or silently pleading to Patrick McKinney to control Andy McAvoy when he felt entitled to nonconsensually feel you up in his convertible when they drove you to school—meaning you were probably left crying alone at night waiting to be picked up, or worse, walking home. And you did it just for him. For his friends. To be included in some stupid fucking yearbook, because he made a big deal out of it in the first place.  
Oh, shit, he was an awful fucking person, Eddie thought.  
So, come Monday morning, he would apologize. He had all weekend to find the right words, rehearse his apology to perfection, and plan when to actually say it to you. 
But Eddie Munson never got to correctly apologize to you on Monday. 
Because aforementioned, Monday was the start of the worst week of your life, and he got scared and simply watched everything happen.
“No running in the halls, young lady.” Mr. Long sternly reminded, as you zoomed past him.
“Sorry, sir.” You weren’t sorry. The second he turned the corner, you picked up the pace and ran to the newspaper room, frantically attempting to shove the slender key into the slot with shaky hands. 
Earlier on Saturday, the Yearbook Committee had worked to finish the final draft of the Hawkins High 1986 Yearbook, and with the team’s effort, you all concluded the first official copy that held the recognition of all staff and students intertwined with a school year’s worth of memorabilia, squished between the glossy green and orange cover that encapsulated Hawkins High. 
And now, you were about to destroy it. 
Sixty minutes. You had sixty minutes. You managed to wake up early that Monday morning, practically running to school, and situating yourself within the newspaper room—sweaty and exhausted—an hour early before the bell rang to commence the school day. In truth, you’d like to say you were a badass, and demolished the yearbook with no regrets, but reality had quite literally sucked, and you were panicking for a solid five minutes before you came to a consensus. 
It had to be destroyed- well, not destroyed, just unbinded. God, you were such a dramatic coward. 
See, that Saturday afternoon with the Yearbook Committee, you had done your part, you really did. You gathered photos, helped have them printed, assisted Nancy Wheeler with the placement of pages, and took over binding the book together when Fred Benson’s scrawny hands cramped into oblivion. You also may have—very discreetly—had Hellfire’s picture printed, created an entirely new page to fit them between the Glee and Math Club, and it was then you realized you didn’t even know half of their names. It had never occurred to you on Friday night that—with the exception of Eddie Munson, Lucas Sinclair, and Mike Wheeler—you never caught the names of the other four members, prompting you to lose precious time after having to locate their stupid names in the student registry for identification—they weren’t stupid, you were just really frustrated at that point.
And now, on this fine Monday morning, you persevered through blistering callouses, contracting muscles, and sore knuckles to unbind and bind back the yearbook with an additional page within the “Hawkins High’s Clubs” recognitional section.
Hellfire’s page.
And it was perfect. 
The pages were still intact with their crisp stiffness of that of a newly unopened book, and you cleaned off any smudges that impaired the quality of work within the creation. You stood back. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that left your lips at the mere sight of Hellfire sticking out like a sore thumb against the formality of the other photos—in true Hellfire fashion. But there it was. Their title, their photo, and their names that gave them the minimal ask to simply be acknowledged in a school that consistently disregarded their beings, and you were happy they finally got it. They deserved it. Even if Friday’s event left you crying alone in your bed feeling awful. It was worth it. Your thumb gently caressed the smooth page of their photo—Eddie’s photo—and reminisced on that night.
Had you actually done something terrible? Was Eddie right to call you out on your actions? You certainly knew you hadn’t caused this entire commotion out of pitiness, though you understood where he may have interpreted it as such. I mean, even though you never did anything, your friends made his life a living hell, villainizing his differences, casting him as a danger to society, affecting his life beyond just a superficial high school social life. It was true torment. 
You understood the facade which Eddie Munson had to put on to protect himself, but what you didn’t understand was the sudden shallowness that appeared when you thought you proved yourself to be more than just a ditzy cheerleader. Why were you even trying to prove yourself to some guy? Eddie Munson was an awful person. Right? He yelled at you, judged you, degraded you, and all for nothing- well, as far as you knew. So yeah, Eddie Munson was an awful person. You may have understood him, but he was still an asshole. You’d done your part, adding Hellfire to the yearbook, and that was that. That was all you needed to do. You no longer had to think about his stupid feelings, his stupid hair—which you totally didn’t want to run your hands through—his stupid brown eyes that made you shutter as they bore into yours, and his stupidly beautiful smile. You also kinda wondered how his hands might feel on your-
“What are you doing here?”
Jesus Christ, how long has Nancy Wheeler been standing there? You didn’t even hear the door open. 
“Uh, um, j-just looking at the, uh, yearbook?” You mumbled. You wished you had better control over your facial expressions, because right now, Nancy Wheeler was eyeing the fuck out of your worried guise. 
“You came to school early just to see the yearbook?” She questioned. 
“W-well, yeah, I mean, isn’t that why you’re here early? …Right?” You prayed.
Nancy blinked. “Yeah, I guess, just had to make sure everything was correct before Fred takes it to make copies.”
“Oh, Fred’s here?” You piqued with interest. 
Fred Benson didn’t actually pique your interest all too much—though, it was quite fascinating seeing how fast his slender fingers would cramp after just a couple minutes of working—but he did give the perfect escape from Nancy Wheeler’s captious glare. 
“Uh, yeah, he’s out front waiting for the book-”
“I’ll hand it to him!” You interjected, watching her face scrunch with confusion. You could only awkwardly laugh, “You know me and Fred,” you zoomed right past her, “just always so, uh… tight.” And you left without further explanation. 
Shoving Mr. Long’s word of chastisement right up his ass, you ran down the empty hall, yearbook held tightly in your tired hands, as you rejected any of Nancy’s calls for you to come back. Reaching the double glass doors, you spotted Fred mindlessly tweaking with his camera in the front seat of his car.
“Fred!” You could visibly make out the bewildered “huh” that fell from his gaping mouth from your sudden appearance. “Fred, here take this and go!” You shoved the yearbook past the small crack of his window. 
“W-wait, didn’t Nancy want to che-”
“No, she sent me to give this to you!” You urged. “And she said go now, or else the copies won’t be done in time!” My god, the entirety of this situation had you lying more than you ever had in your life. 
“But the distributors don’t close until six-”
“Fred, I don’t care!” You whined. “Do you really want to make Nancy upset?!” If your calculations were correct, Nancy Wheeler’s flats were currently speed walking—she was one to follow the rules—past Mrs. Durberry’s science classroom, meaning you had ten more seconds until she appeared. 
“Well, n-no-”
“Then drive! Now, please!” He scrambled to turn his car on, and luckily, the old piece of junk managed to roar alive with a heavy blow of carbon dioxide, and you heaved watching Fred Benson skirt past the incoming wave of students on bikes and cars, leaving tire tracks on the cracked pavements. When he came back, you’d be sure to apologize for demanding him so aggressively.
Nancy Wheeler screamed your name. 
Turning around, she came pummeling towards you with a might of pure irritation. “What the hell was that?! I didn’t even get to check the book!”
You huffed with exhaustion. It was only 8:18 a.m and it had already been a long day. “Nance, come on, I’ve been on the Yearbook Committee for the last three years, don’t you trust me by now?” Admittedly, guilting Nancy probably wasn’t the best option, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“I don’t care how long you’ve been in the committee, I have the authority to make final calls, not you!” Gee, you really had an act for getting people to yell in your face. Were you actually the problem?
“Look, I understand, but I promise everything was perfect with the yearbook. I mean, come on, you saw the finished product on Saturday when we completed it.” You reasoned. 
Nancy took a deep breath to regulate herself. “This is your only strike.” She pointed a finger at you like a child. “You pull something like this again, and you're off the committee. Understand?”
You swallowed thickly. The trouble you went through just for Eddie Munson- his friends. Just for his friends. “Yes, I understand.” You submitted quietly. “But I promise, the book was fine, everything is going to be perfectly okay.”
Everything was not perfectly okay.
Because unlike your little white lie of being “tight” with Fred Benson, he actually was with Nancy Wheeler, and, boy, did he rat you out when he paged through the printed copies of the yearbook and found the seven believed satanic cultists mischievously smiling right back at him, tainting the committee’s precious work. 
-
It was in the midst of your A.P U.S History class when the staticy call of your name over the intercom interrupted Mr. Whitney’s lecture of the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, and prompted you to the principal’s office at 10:57 a.m. Now, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Principal Higgins to often call you down as you were a valued student representative of Hawkins High, though you quickly knew your visitation had nothing in relation to an honor medal or scholarship award. No, it became quite evident that such subject matter was beyond any congratulations to you, because upon entering, you were faced with a choleric Nancy Wheeler, displeased Principal Higgins, and timid Fred Benson. You were fucking screwed, I mean, Principal Higgins quite literally had a yearbook in his hand. Crazy part of it all is that a good third of your being actually believed you may have gotten away with it, but they managed to find out in a matter of two fucking hours. Who were you kidding?
There was only so much nonchalant-ness you could mask, though your previous revelation of being unable to control your facial expressions was really biting you in the ass, and your insistent cracking under pressure was palpable. 
Your wide eyes flashed between everyone as they stared you down. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t even manage to speak. And they didn’t speak. Why wasn’t anyone speaking?
“Aw, you miss me already, Higgy-”
Everyone’s attention snapped at Eddie’s sneering voice as he strutted his grand entrance, though he was quick to flinch back in surprise when he saw everyone looking at him. And you, shit you were here! You were here looking at him. He’d been searching for you all morning just to apologize, and now you were here… with everyone… why was everyone here?
“Now that I have everyone situated,” Principal Higgins cleared his throat, “I’d like to clear up a matter that has been brought to my attention. I’m sure as you all are well aware of, an unauthorized change has been made to our yearbook and I’m looking to get to the bottom of it.” Higgins turned to you, “Ms. Y/L/N,” he spoke with such care, “this is a safe place for honesty. Did Mr. Munson subject you into making these changes?” With a dramatic slam to his desk, the yearbook was turned open to showcase Hellfire’s designated spot on the page.
“What?!” Both you and Eddie questioned in unison. 
“I didn’t “subject” her to shit!” He was quick to rightfully defend. 
“Language!” Principal Higgins was even quicker to yell back. 
The atmosphere was taut, and it felt like their judgmental stares were swallowing you into an endless blackhole of utter disappointment and failure. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to meet their gaze, simply staring at the old rug beneath your sneakers, wishing it’d come alive and consume you already. 
“Ms. Y/L/N, is that true?” Principal Higgins lectured you.
A part of Eddie actually wished you would have lied and accused him of being the aggressor while you were the helpless victim, because that was the usual reality of Eddie Munson: to be denigrated. It would have justified his previous beratement against you from Friday, it would have supported his initial beliefs about you, it would have cleared him of being an asshole, and most of all, it would have changed the way he viewed you, from a genuinely beautiful person inside and out that took a sincere interest in bringing simple recognition to him and his friends to a cold-hearted superficial bitch that chalked up this elaborate plan as a vendetta with your jock friends.
But Eddie Munson knew you weren’t like that.
Which only made it hurt worse when he watched you pain through the sting of your manicured nails stabbing into your palms and your teeth sinking into your tender lip.
“Y-yes, that’s, uh, true, sir.” Your voice was so delicate, Eddie was ready to jump in and just take the blame. “He didn’t make me do anything, it was, uh, all me. I lied, and made him and his friends take the photo. And, well, I, uh, added the page and told Fred to print it.”
You shuddered at the sudden slap of the book, as Principal Higgins closed it with much despondency against you. “And is there valid reasoning as to why?!” Principal Higgins wasn’t one to be known for his placidness and he was quick to make that apparent. “You are the best student at this establishment, you should not be falling under influence of a hooligan like Mr. Munson! How have you fallen so naive all of a sudden?!”
You were really tugging on Eddie’s heart the way your eyes grew round with panic, completely helpless to the grown man scolding you, just as he did last Friday. And while he may have caused it the initial time, he’d be damned to watch it happen to you again.
“Hey, look, you can insult me all you want, but you don’t have to yell at her like she made some dire mistake!” Eddie lambasted Principal Higgins, far more harsh than any regular tone Eddie used when he was regularly being reprimanded. 
Higgins could only scoff in disbelief. “Vandalizing school property isn’t a mistake to you, Mr. Munson?! Well, given your grotesque track record of uncivilized activities, it seems as though I’ve answered my own question!” He sneered back with intended offense.
“Please, ‘vandalizing school property?!’” Eddie mocked. “She fucking put our picture in the yearbook, and for good reason, too. You’re the one at fault here, excluding students from recognition!”
The thudding sound of your heartbeat was completely muting you from the onslaught of shouts that was suffocating you in the tight room. While Nancy Wheeler was beginning to contemplate if telling Principal Higgins was too far, Fred Benson was merely watching with joy that none of the blame was being casted on him, and you, well, your body was racking with stiffness, as it suddenly felt like your airway was tightening every breath out of you. Your hands began shaking by your side, unable to control the instantaneous wave of trepidation, as everything was beginning to blur around you. 
And no one was noticing. 
“I have rightful reasons to exclude your gang of misfits from my yearbook!” Principal Higgins walked from his desk, standing against Eddie with pure spite in his eyes. “You and your posse of cons and aberrations have done nothing but taint the reputation of our school and town, running around like imbeciles who have nothing better to do than waste their lives away! And I will not stand to have you be associated with the work I’ve done to correct this school from delinquents like yourself!”
Chest heaving and nostrils flared, the Eddie Munson from the cafeteria instance was back, though angrier, and he was two seconds from actually gaining an assault charge from hitting Principal Higgins square in the face. But the older man was quick to turn, and eject his dissonant castigate towards you. 
“And you, missy!” Your eyes were blinking posthaste with fret to control the swell of tears that were burning your eyes, at the clashing outburst being directed against you. “How did you even gain the facilities to take such picture?!” 
Your mouth was dry with consternation, unable to formulate words, and simply quivering your mouth open.
And unlucky for you, Fred Benson spoke for you.
“After our yearbook meeting on Friday,” heads snapped at his gravelly voice, “she said she was going to stay after to work, and that she would lock up herself. She must have taken the key, and stolen a camera.”
Higgins scoffed with great disgust as he judged you, before turning to Nancy. “Ms. Wheeler, as president of the Yearbook Committee, had you permitted her to do so?” 
Nancy looked at you with guilt. She hadn’t anticipated the situation to blow up this much, though she spoke honestly to the authoritative eyes of Higgins. “Uh, no, I didn’t.” She meekly answered. 
“And Mr. Munson,” Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to control his frustrations before doing something he wouldn’t be able to take back. “When did Ms. Y/L/N enforce these photos?”
“Why the hell does that even matter?” Eddie gritted with a clenched jaw of tension.
“Mr. Munson, you choose not to answer me, and I will not hesitate to place you as an accomplice, and you certainly cannot afford another detention or suspension if you’re planning on finally ending this school year as a graduate.” In a perfect world, Eddie Munson would have lied for you and lessened whatever punishment you were about to receive, but Hawkins, Indiana was far from perfect, the threat made him budge under the pressure of his potential future and your distraught eyes.
“It was, uh, after her cheer practice. After school.” He sheepishly murmured with regret.
“Ah,” Principal Higgins turned to your shaking stature. “So, not only did you make unauthorized changes to the school yearbook, but you stole school property, used our equipment prohibitively outside of school hours, and actively unsubordinated my authority. I have to say, I am awfully disappointed in the person you have become, Ms. Y/L/N, and I am ashamed to have valued you so highly when you simply choose to go down the path of delinquency.” Everything about Principal Higgins words were humiliating and slammed you into a vicious cycle of believing the worst about yourself. “Finish the rest of your day,” he sighed, “but you’ll be suspended for the rest of the week for your actions.” Your heart sank at his news, and Eddie stood dumbfounded that he contributed to it. 
Your visions grew blurry under the swell of tears, and your breath was becoming sporadic with panic, and everyone just kept fucking staring at you. “N-no, sir, p-please!” You choked, “I-I have scholarships, a-and acceptances that I-I’m still waiting to hear back from, this could ruin that for me, p-please, sir!”
While your pleads were being disregarded, everyone stood stun watching your fate unfold in front of you. Eddie Munson didn’t know what to do. Nobody did. On top of being berated by him from Friday, you were now facing the worst possible consequence for something so trivial, and he watched it happen. Granted, there was quite literally nothing Eddie could do to fix the situation, but seeing you stand there, panicked about your future and trying to conceal your incoming sobs through the ache of heart palpitations, it was fucking excruciating for him to witness. 
“You should have thought about that before you made your choices. Everything is on you.” His words were ringing in your ear like a loop confirming everything you’ve ever hated about yourself. “I’ll be sure to let your father know of the news, and as for your spot on the committee, it is up to Ms. Wheeler to determine where you stand. Now go, everyone back to class.”
Fred Benson was first to leave, giddy to have been cleared from any trouble. Eddie Munson should have left, but he couldn’t stand to leave, simply watching you turn to Nancy Wheeler in a flash. Your round eyes were pleading to her to let you stay, but her previous words of “This is your only strike,” was tormenting you. She sighed, “I’m sorry,” and the shake of her head answered everything before she could verbalize it. 
You were off. 
You stormed out of the room, bumping shoulders with Eddie, though with no malice intent, just simply needing to get out. The second you reached the clearing of the empty hall, your tears were drowning your cheeks, your sobs so unbearably hard your breathing staggered for release. Suddenly, your little cashmere sweater felt like it was sticking to your skin, giving you hot flashes that brought dizziness to your pounding head. The blood battering your ears cleared out any noise, including Eddie’s calls of your name. He reached out to hold your arm, causing you to severely flinch in hysteria, and he appeared devastatingly concerned for your state of being.
“Sorry! Ar-are you okay?” He winced at the loud sob you choked out, as he felt stupid for even asking you that question. “Look, everything, uh, everything’s gonna be fine.” He rushed to reassure. In truth, Eddie Munson was completely talking out of his ass, he didn’t know if everything was going to be fine, your panicking was just causing him to panic, and all he wanted was for you to be okay. “J-just, uh, breathe for me.” He offered. 
“I-I c-can’t! I’m scared, Eddie, help me!” You pleaded with frightened eyes. 
Your beg hit too close to home. Suddenly, Eddie was a little boy curled up in the corner of his trashed living room, as he watched his parents abuse one another with words and fists. He pleaded the same words to his parents, who merely ignored his shaking little body. Such horrific events disfigured Eddie Munson’s belief of healing. No one cared for his emotions, no one cared for his feelings, and no one cared to make sure he was okay. So, yes, Eddie Munson yelled at you Friday night because he was petrified. Petrified to be hurt, just as everyone else had done, because to Eddie Munson, that was his fate. To be hurt and to be forgotten. Maybe that’s why he cared so much about being excluded from the school yearbook. While anyone would have rightfully been upset, being excluded cemented the notion that Eddie Munson was disposable. His father spoke it, the townspeople spoke, his teachers spoke, and his peers spoke it. But you didn’t, and that fucking scared him. It’s why he yelled, it’s why he panicked, and it’s why he’d try anything to help you right now.
“I-I know, sweetheart, just listen to me, please.” He quietly spoke. “I’m not gonna touch you or anything, I just really need you to listen to me.”
You fervently nodded your head, and he sighed with relief, because though minor, it was progress, and progress was incredible.
“I, uh, I want you to focus on my voice, okay?” His wide eyes connected with your red ones. “I wouldn’t lie to you, and I mean it when I say everything will be okay. I-I’ll make sure of it.” 
Could he physically do that? No. But would he try his damn hardest, putting his being through anything to make it happen? Yes. For you.
“Okay, I want you to-”
“What are you doing to her?!”
Eddie’s eyes screwed shut with disappointment. 
Jessica fucking Lewis.
“Get away from her!” She charged past him to get to your hysterical figure. “Did you do something?!”
“No, no, I’m trying to fucking help her.” Eddie implored. “Stop yelling, she’s having a fucking panic attack.” He gritted through his teeth.
“Don’t fucking come near her ever again, you freak!” Eddie watched as you tried to get your words out, but your shrinking throat made it impossible to get your voice out, and he recoiled, watching the fear in your eyes as Jessica held a tight grip in your arms. 
But before he could stop her, Jessica was dragging you into the girls bathroom, and he stood frozen doing everything in his power to not rip out his hair in frustration. 
-
Aside from her fault-finding comments against Eddie, Jessica Lewis had actually been a fairly good friend to you through the years of cheer, connecting with the girls through the pact of lifelong sisterhood, as she insisted. Though such pact also came with unwarranted advice when she felt one of you was “falling out of line” with a pristine, perfect image. That being said, when she found you panicking at the hands of Eddie Munson, she was actually concerned, impetuous, yes, but concerned, nonetheless. She’d sat with you, decisively skipping the rest of Mrs. Otis’ home economics class, to console you, bitching out any innocent girl to leave as they attempted to alleviate themselves, while you sat heaving with the back of your thighs sticking to cold tiles of the bathroom. When you did finally manage to catch your breath and calm your heart rate to a healthy status, Jessica had petted your hair with care, constantly asking what was wrong and what Eddie had done. Through your tremored voice, you hoarsely clarified that “He didn’t do anything,” and “He was just trying to help.” That revelation had actually baffled Jessica Lewis, honestly, some part of her believing you to be lying, but she gave it a rest when you assiduously shook your head in response to her asking what was actually wrong. By then, the bell had rung to signal the start of third period.
And it was during said third period when your situation only worsened completely unbeknownst to you.
While you were in the middle of trying to focus on your quiz—which proved damn near impossible after today’s events—Fred Benson was seemingly trying to get back at you for nearly inducing him into a heart attack after your actions almost cost him his spot on the Newspaper and Yearbook Committee (In reality, Nancy Wheeler had only yelled at him for not previously checking the books).
See, once Fred had informed the rest of the Yearbook Committee of what you had done and how you were being punished, the news had spread like wildfire; nerds, geeks, punks, jocks, everyone knew one version or another. “Perfect Cheerleader Falls Under Satanic Cultist’s Influence and Vandalizes School Facilities,'' small town high school students sure had a talent to dramatize any given situation. You’d only taken a picture, that’s all it was, but the students of Hawkins High had conspired together to formulate you into a freak slut who allegedly got fucked by the Eddie Munson after cheer practice in exchange for putting his club in the yearbook.
As the students of your class hurtled to mitigate the dreaded boredom of the school day with the clashing laughter and stale food of lunch, you sighed in your seat, head pounded and anxiety still churning in your mind and stomach, slowly packing up your belongings before handing over the quiz—quite literally the worst you’ve ever performed on one. Lunch seemed like the worst possible thing to conquer, right now. Despite the horrid grumbling of your stomach, you felt no need to satiate that hunger, as your appetite was long gone for the afternoon. In addition, you’d known Jessica Lewis long enough to know that she had informed all your friends of your panic attack, and if you chose to call her out on it, you knew you would only be met with a “I’m only trying to help,” as if you needed an intervention. She’d done it to Paige Semore when the girl healthy gained a couple pounds over the summer and got ridiculed by Jess.
But when you entered the cafeteria, you quickly wished you were subjected to Jessica Lewis’ harmful “advice”, rather than the reality you got.  
The sound of the heavy double doors announced your arrival, and suddenly all eyes were on you. No, like quite literally, all eyes were on you. No greeting smiles from acquaintances, no shying-away looks from crushing students, no bright wave hello from Chrissy Cunningham from across the cafeteria, in fact, she was heavily avoiding you, seemingly finding the table more interesting as Jason Carver glared at you. Everyone was staring at you as if, without notice, you had become the town pariah. Because you had. Your perturbation had bombarded you like a missile hit, as quiet whispers flooded your senses. Peering around you caught his eyeline. Eddie. His brows had severely been furrowed with much worry, because he knew. He knew how quickly it went around, and he knew just how bad the news got twisted. Now, he was no stranger to the onslaught of destructive rumors, but you weren’t, and with the day you had, his chest was pounding with dread for you.
Chalking it up to merely being in your head, you swallowed the lump in your throat, and with quick steps, you sped to your usual lunch table. But everyone kept staring- your friends were staring. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” You whispered, as they genuinely looked at you with disgust. 
“Why don’t you tell us?” Jason scowled. “Seems like you’re the one who caused all of this, you desperate slut.”
Your mouth dropped incredulously. “What did you just call me?”
“You fucking heard me!” Jason stood from his chair, rejecting Chrissy’s quiet ask to not cause a scene. “It’s exactly what you are.” He laughed.
Eddie Munson’s residual anger was fueling. Hard. He stood from his chair all the way across the room, metal legs scraping the floor with a deafening screech. But his presence only caught the worst attention. “Oh, would you look at that? Your little freak coming to help you?”
Eddie faltered at your watery eyes, begging for everything to just stop. If he spoke, nothing would help you. “What are you talking about?” Your voice stung with pleads to just understand what was happening to you.
“Stop acting like you don’t fucking know!” Andy’s booming voice startled you. “You wanna choose some gross freak to fuck, then fine by us, go right ahead, but don’t think that you’ll be able to with us!” Andy McAvoy was taking it far more personal. He liked you. That was obvious. But hearing the rumors simply led him to believe you chose Eddie Munson over him.
“What?” Your voice cracked in distress. 
Eddie had had enough. 
“She didn’t fucking do anything!” He marched his way over. All the boys of the basketball team stood in preparation for a fight that Eddie Munson was known to love to finish. Finish, not start. “Your bland lives got that fucking boring you all have to go around making shit up to make things interesting?! She didn’t do anything!”
“Aw, defending your precious little fuck toy, isn’t that cu-”
Chrissy Cunningham's shrilling scream startled the entire cafeteria as Jason Carver’s blood stained her powdery skin. You flinched at the bone-crunching punch that busted Jason’s pretty face, and everything felt heavy in your chest. Your hands were beginning to shake beyond your control, as everything was horrifyingly disfiguring in front of you. It was happening again. Before your mind was about to shut off from the assault of today’s events, your instinct had elicited all rash decisions, and you had to leave. All you could comprehend was the diffusing sounds of students instigating the fight before everything fell silent and you trudged down the hall to escape.
Staff were quick to call Eddie’s name before another detrimental hit was casted upon Jason. It was only then, Eddie’s judgment was left unclouded, and he noticed you were gone. “Did she leave?” He hadn’t necessarily asked anyone in particular, moreso questioning himself, but Chrissy Cunningham had ardently answered him with a swift nod of her head and bulging eyes of fear. 
Eddie broke through the doors with force, catching you near the end of the hall. “Y/N!” You didn’t turn, though. Every repeated call of your name fell with no response, and he chased you down, following you into the zephyr of the afternoon weather outside. “Y/N, c’mon, wait!” He’d grabbed your arm.
“What?!”
Eddie staggered at your biting tone. Not once, in the four years he’d known of you—freshman to senior year—had he ever heard your voice so malicious, yet drowning in urgence to make everything stop. Your inconsolable state devastating him helplessly. 
“I-I’m sorry.” He sighed so softly.
“‘Sorry?’” You affronted. “Now you’re sorry?! After everything that’s happened! Why, is it out of fucking pity?!” Internally, Eddie was begging you to stop, because if you kept yelling at him like this, his defense mechanism was going to lash out, especially when he was already angry from everything that’s just happened. “I don’t want some stupid apology, not when every time you appear, my life gets worse! I just want you away!” You cried.
Eddie scoffed in disbelief. Were you actually blaming him for all this? No, you weren’t. But after the day you just had, you were not looking to be comforted by someone who partially hurt you. But Eddie Munson couldn’t understand. His judgment had a habit of being clouded; his cynicism about anything good happening to him had protected him from a lifetime of hurt, and now, unfortunately, your rightfully pent up polemic about him was believing his suspicions to be true. 
“This isn’t my fucking fault, you’re the one who wanted to take our picture in the first place!” He shouted, shielding his vulnerability. 
“Because you made a big deal out of it!” You screamed with frustration. “You yelled at me first, you said mean things to me first- why- why were you so mean to me?!” You blubbered through drowning tears.
“Because- be- ugh,” Eddie pained with vexation. “You fucking terrify me, okay?! You terrify the living shit out of me!” Guarding his tearing eyes from your shattered being, he groaned realizing you weren’t going to understand unless he opened up, but he couldn’t bear to, and maybe that was the best solution to move on, run away. “It’s just fucking hard when, you know, you look like that and you’re fucking you, and I’m just me, and you have a great life-”
“‘Great life?!’” You derided through tears. “You know nothing about my life!” You shoved him. “You know nothing about me!” You shoved him again. Eddie was quick to retrain your wrist in a tight grip, preventing you from touching him again, no matter how hard you tried. “Stop acting like you know everything about me when you know absolutely nothing! I’m not going to stand here, and let you say mean things to me, when you know nothing, do you understand?! I have never done anything to you, and I never will, because unlike you, I’m not some sulking asshole who can’t handle their fucking emotions, and uses their sorry life to lash out at people because they’re too pathetic to deal with their own problems!”
And maybe your rash psycho analysis of Eddie Munson was too much, or not harsh enough, but either way, your critical comments derailed him off the edge of sanity. He aggressively dropped your wrist, and got into your face with a full might of fury. “You are such a miserable bitch!” He shouted, invading your space with intent, causing you to wince and step away from him, but he wasn’t relenting. “For once, you got a fucking taste of what your bullshit friends have been doing to me, and now you can’t fucking handle it?! God, just love playing the fucking victim, don’t you?! Maybe they are right, maybe you are just some fucking desperate slut craving fucking attention?! Is that why you did all this shit in the first place?!”
The way your face flashed with sudden dejection had him biting his tongue. Oh, fuck. He regretted it. He fucking immediately regretted it. 
Eddie began furiously shaking his head in denial to what he just uttered, he couldn’t believe it. “No,” he heaved out. “No, I-I didn’t mean it, I’m s-sorry.” He could only muster a whisper.
You didn’t even have the energy to fight back, merely accepting his words as truth with a silent sob that burned your being. “Yeah,” you shakily sighed with a sniffle of sobs. “I’m sorry, too, Eddie. I would have loved being your friend, and now I just want nothing to do with you.” His heart dropped at your calmness. When he first spoke those words to you, demanding you to stay away from him and his friends, he knew a deep part of him didn’t mean it. Why would he, you were fucking perfect? But you, the stillness and tranquility of your words cemented them to be the final verdict. You were done. “So please,” you wiped your drenched face from tears, “just leave me alone and stay away from me.”
No malice, no anger, no fury.
Just pure defeat.
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𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | This is my first time making a tag list, and I got overwhelmed—in a good way—that I simply tagged anyone who commented. If you were not looking to be tagged, I’m so sincerely sorry, and please let me know to respect your wishes and remove you!
(Big, fat kisses to all of you) @televisionboy @batkin028 @lostdreamingwallflower @cevais @myfavoritesareproblematic @btbabyy @married-to-the-music01 @super-nova-03 @deathnote6666 @cherrytc @sleepy-bunnie @eggo-segual @bambi-horror @aheadfullofsteverogers @sademoloser @averagestudent03 @freakymunson @princess-eddie @imagine-a-world-blog1 @negativity4you
@nope-thanks @allsortsedits @callingmrsbarnes @f0rgggg @hurricane-abigail @sweet-sunflower64 @redlovett @goldstars-to-all @eddiesguitarskills @goslytherin @sashaphantomhive @maxinehufflepuffprincess @emeritusemeritus @angel-upon @middle-of-the-earth @scarletwitchwhore @my-tearsricochet @pixiepaintt @ericasdumbworld @animechick555
@gewrgia-black @hookandchain @roseanddaggerlarry @prestinalove @sebismyhubby @maddsunn
(I’m so sorry, some blogs are not popping up when I try to tag y’all, if it’s an issue on my part, I’ll try my best to fix it as soon as possible)
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luveline · 11 months
Note
hi jade!! can i request something with the marauders (platonic or romantic) maybe reader has been real stressed with work or school and the marauders try to get her to relax once they realize how stressed she actually is?? ty! u don’t have to do this, it’s just a thought :))
thank you for your request my love, nearly romantic poly!marauders x fem!reader
James notices first, surprisingly. While Sirius is fluent in what goes unsaid, and Remus is more than familiar with stress, it's James who has learned to read his sometimes sulky friends, and so it's James who knows that your tight shoulders and your half-hearted smile are from more than being tired. 
He doesn't want to announce your potential upset upset the world, so he waits for Remus to get a drink while Sirius is in the loo and slides down the sofa toward you until you're sitting thigh to thigh. He doesn't ever want much space from you. He's fortunate that you feel the same. 
"What, James?" you ask, leaning on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" 
"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, solemn, so you know he's serious. 
"Why wouldn't I be okay?" 
"You just seem unhappy tonight, is all. You know you can tell me. Or if you don't want to tell me, you can tell one of the boys." 
Because you and your friends are in an incredibly weird (not weird, really, unexpected, but so full of love and sweetness that weird doesn't apply) situation in which you aren't dating anyone but it feels like you are. James imagines it as a sort of precipice, where you might choose one of them, or, in what seems the more unique but better fit, you might not choose at all. 
James only knows you feel the same way about them as they do about you because you'd confessed to Remus how guilty you feel for stringing them along. He reported back, and is quoted by himself to have said, Well, we must be stringing you along too. While I string James along, and Sirius strings me. 
So everybody fancies everybody and nobody knows what to do about it. (Well, apart from that one kiss between James and Remus, which went exceptionally well. James had known what to do about that). For tonight, nothing has to be done. All James needs to do is figure out how to make you feel better. 
Remus is offended at having had his seat stolen when he returns, but then he sees your sad face slack on James' big shoulder and forgets to be annoyed. Crouching down in front of you, Remus tilts his head to the side to align his face to yours, a frown mirrored on his lips as he asks, "What's wrong, dove?" 
The way he says it makes James pleased, and it also makes him like Remus impossibly more. James is earnest and ardent in wanting to comfort you, but Remus is very, very good at it. He has this seriousness, no-nonsense tone wrapped in a soft affection that could draw out James' very worst secrets. It's no surprise when you crack clean in two and confess.
"I'm really stressed out." Your voice takes a horrible dive, like you might cry. "Um, work is just hard, and I'm worried about money, too." 
James doesn't suppose you're in the depth of a relationship where it's appropriate to offer to bankroll you, and it's not what you want anyhow. He bites back any affluent admission in favour of a subtler approach. 
"You're worried about money?" he asks, gently as he can. "You aren't going without, are you? I really hope you'd tell us if it were bad." 
You shake your head. "I'm not going without. Don't worry, it's not that bad." But it could be, goes unsaid. 
Remus hums, his hand on your knee. "You know we care about you. Please, don't not tell us if you need something, okay?" His hand climbs the stretch of your thigh. "What's worrying you, dove? With work, are they giving you a hard time again?" 
Sirius returns somewhere in the midst of your talking, and he's absolutely horrified when a single tear bounds down your cheek. He squeezes between you and the armrest of the sofa to wipe your face as it comes, his weight almost entirely on top of you, so close that his hair tickles your cheek and neck. "Don't cry. I promise not to leave you alone with these two ever again," he jokes, though the tenderness with which he holds your face is nothing but sincere. 
James, sick of being the only one not comforting you physically, finds one of your hands to hold. It's smaller, and warm, and he pulls it to his chest as though that might hide you away from all the things that are freaking you out. 
To no one's shock, the boys are good listeners. Not always to each other, but what one lacks another can make up, and they manage to pull out from you your pack of troubles one by one. When that's done, they assuage each accompanying fear. 
If the very worst happens, you'll always have them to lean on. 
That makes you cry more than the stress. Grateful —though the last thing they're comforting you for is gratitude— you needle your arms around Sirius' waist and hide your face in his chest. He frowns down at you as he wraps you up tightly. James doesn't even feel jealous. Well, mostly, until Sirius kisses your forehead and James can actually see your happy shudder. Lucky for him, you aren't done. You squeeze Sirius before pulling away and turning to James. He realises then what made Sirius so bold, your whispered thank you like a vibration through his chest. He pats your back. 
"That's alright," he murmurs. 
You nod and squeeze and move on to Remus, who's been sitting at your feet for the last twenty minutes while you cry, concerned but not complaining. He's eager even if he won't say that, climbing to his feet so he can reach down for you and receive his own hug. James is a ridiculous romantic, and he just aches with affection for both of you as he watches Remus nose your cheek. When Remus finally pulls away, Sirius is looking at them with the same expression. 
"Do you feel better?" he asks you. 
You sniffle and wipe your nose with your sleeve sheepishly. "Yes. Thank you, boys. I really don't know what I'd do without you." 
James forgets restraint and swings his arm around your shoulder. "It's a good thing you'll never be without us, then," he says, and kisses your cheek.
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shoutaaizawas · 4 months
Text
↳ todoroki shoto x reader → ❝ice king❞
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summary: the world sees shoto as a cold hero but you know that's the furthest thing from the truth. when you get hurt the world sees word count: 4k+  tags/warnings: friends to lovers, confessions, hurt/comfort, fluff, and light angst (with violence, blood mentions, injury mentions) a/n: alright that was way more than what i expected to write but i can't complain because it was fun to write.
masterlist
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Shoto Todoroki is calm, cool, and collected almost always. Nothing seems to shake him even when put under extreme pressure. A good amount of public opinion believes he’s as icy as his quirk.
You aren’t one of those people. Shoto has been your friend since high school. You were quick to have a soft spot for him. His family or quirk didn’t intimidate you it was like you saw who he was from the start. He was warm and soft. He thought about others and cared for them even if he didn’t always show it through his words.
Now that you were both adults working as pro heroes you knew so even more now. Shoto had grown a lot, around his friends he would talk more and joke around. It was nice seeing him open up and enjoy life after all he had gone through with his family in his childhood.
Shoto was your best friend and even if people thought he was unshakable, you knew better. You could see it on rescue missions that were too close to losing the people in danger. How his eyebrows furrowed, the look in his heterochromatic eyes.
Shoto Todoroki while being one of the best heroes out there was just a man and he too felt the weight of the world at times.
Losing people on the job was never easy, even when it wasn’t your fault. You recall the night like it was yesterday. A fire broke out in a high-rise building. It was a bad night, heroes spread across the city busy with different disasters. It was you and Todoroki and an entire building. Considering the situation it was a miracle that more people didn’t die.
After escorting out groups and groups of people you went to help Shoto with the last few people. A young mother and her children. A heavy beam collapsed, separating her from her children. The smoke was thick and it all happened so quickly. You took the children and Shoto rushed to save her, but there was no helping it. The unstable floor fell out from below her and even as Shoto tried to do anything to keep her from falling it was useless. The building was deteriorating so quickly, the fire burning hot.
If he hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have made it out with the kids without his ice quirk.
You had kept the kids from seeing what happened but they knew when Shoto returned without her that their mother was gone. The scene outside, the kids crying as their father who had been at work returned. Having to tell him what happened. You were going to explain it when Shoto stepped in front of you telling the man what had happened to his wife.
It was devastating. Even though you had saved a building full of people it didn’t feel like enough as you watched the children cry in their father’s arms, watching him tear up trying to stay strong for his kids.
After being treated for smoke inhalation you found yourself at Shoto’s apartment. A place you were no stranger to. You were work partners and best friends. Of course, you had been here many times. For dinner, to help him when he was sick, you even had your own key for emergencies. Knocking on the door you got no reply. You knew for a fact he was home. Using your key you entered figuring this counted as an emergency.
Shoto sat on the couch with only the light of a small lamp. He had a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked drained. His head didn’t even turn as you entered.
“Shoto.” You said softly as you sat down next to him. His knuckles were white around the glass, his other hand clenched in a fist. You took his hand into yours, brushing your thumb over his cold skin. “You did everything you could, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Does it change the fact those kids have no mother now?” He said his voice was low. His voice was raw, hurting. You could hear the pain in it.
“No.” You said. “No, it doesn’t. At the end of the day doing our best with no mistakes sometimes still means that we lose people. We can’t save everyone and that’s the worst thing about being a hero. It’s not fair but it’s not your fault.”
His hand started to relax from a fist, he was still tense but it was a good start. “12, 323 people lived in that building, and 8,578 people were in the building when the fire started. All those people and we only lost one.” You said looking at him but his gaze was still on the wall. “If we were less prepared, if we didn’t work together well any other two heroes would have lost more than one person. I can guarantee it. The agency is in disbelief we saved so many being short-handed.”
“Does it stop the image of those children crying in their father's arms while he tries to hold it together?” You asked. “No, it doesn’t it never will. But we have to focus on the good and not only the bad. We’re only hurting ourselves if we don’t. How many families are together tonight because we saved them? How many couples reunited, grandparents that got out safely so they can see their family again? Lives saved, lives that get to spend another day doing whatever they want to because we saved them. There’s so much good.”
You pulled out your phone and open a social media app. “Look,” You said holding it up. A hashtag was trending thanking you both for saving people in that building. “Thank you for saving my sister, her family lives in that building. Thank you for saving my niece and her husband. Thank you for saving me and my parents.” You read some of them out.
“It doesn’t bring her back. It doesn’t change the grief that family carries now and always will but it gives us the whole picture.” You said.
Shoto’s gaze moved to you and you could see as a tear slipped from his eyes. Without a word you embraced him, holding him as he cried quietly against your shoulder. “Thank you,” He mumbled against you. You hummed in reply as you rubbed his back.
No, Shoto was not a uncaring man. He felt grief all too well.
Shoto was no stranger to anxiety either.
Doing publicity was never enjoyed by either of you but it was part of the job.
The good thing about Shoto being the head of his own hero agency meant that you could control the schedule. Rather than doing media throughout the year, you both plotted a way to get it over with.
Twice a year you did what you coined the ‘Biannual Media Marathon’. Was it horrible? Yes. Did you make it a silly event, of course? Have you made mugs and shirts to commemorate? Yeah.
The media marathon consisted of a full day, usually from six am to eight or nine pm of filming media, photo shoots, and interviews.
Was it an improvement? Probably not but it meant you didn’t have to do it any other day of the year and that was the way you and Shoto preferred it.
The morning would start with hair and makeup then you went to the local news stations to do interviews and even did satellite interviews. After you filmed videos for ads that would run through the year or other PSAs. Then the photo shoots. The hair, makeup, and outfit changes were like torture.
By the end of the day, you felt dead. Not only were you exhausted but your skin felt raw and your head hurt from people pulling at your hair.
The finale was late-night talk show interviews. Shoto had a much better poker face when it came to how over it he was. As the two of you sat in the green room you looked over at Shoto, who looked handsome in a trendy suit with his hair pushed back loosely. But the way his shoulders were slumped and a look in his eyes told you he was at the end of his rope.
Funny how two heroes who constantly trained to keep their stamina up for fights and rescues could be so defeated by a day of socializing and posing.
“Sho,” You said softly. “You good?”
His eyes snapped to you. “I’m exhausted.”
You gave him a soft look before moving to sit next to him. “Rest your eyes, I’ll wake you up when they’re ready for us.” You said.
He started at you for a moment before resting his head against your shoulder. After a moment you heard light snoring from him. You smiled.
Just like that with his eyes closed as he snored against you he looked at peace. The weight of his exhaustion was gone just like that.
Even Shoto Todoroki got tired. You were no stranger to it.
The world was a stranger to the feelings Shoto went through until today.
A battle against a dangerous villain was not an unusual thing for you two to face together. Generally, it was something you dealt with quickly. After working together for so long it was like second nature when you fought together.
All eyes were on the scene, news helicopters flying overhead as onlookers filmed on their phones.
It was clear from the start this wasn’t going to be an easy battle to win. Exchanging blows with the villain, fire, and ice rushing past you.
Exhaustion was starting to wear you down, the villain was trying to wear you both down so you got sloppy, so he’d have an opening. It worked.
Your vision goes black for a moment as you are launched back. When it returns you're on the ground, everything hurts, and the breath is knocked out of you.
A wall of ice covers you, Shoto is in front of you. There’s this look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. It’s distant and present at the same time. His eyes lock onto your stomach, you follow his gaze as his hand gently touches the blood that’s gathering there.
The blood drains from your face as you realize the wound is deep. You feel numb and you know that’s not a good sign.
“Shoto, you have to cauterize it.” You know it’s the last thing he would ever want to do, hurt you with his fire but if he doesn’t-
There are only moments before the villain turns on civilians. Only moments before you lose too much blood and your chances of surviving this get worse. In a second you both realize this is the only option. You take his left hand and place it on the wound.
It’s going to hurt, you know it will but if he doesn’t you could die. You will die.
With a look you nod at him, encouraging him. You know every fiber of him is against this but you also have known him long enough to know he’s come to the same conclusion as you have. It has to happen.
His right-hand brushes against your cheek, brushing away tears you didn’t know were there before stopping at your hand. Holding your hand with his right, he nods as he covers your wound with his left.
The scream you let out is deafening. You had wanted to hold it in, the last thing you wanted was to make Shoto feel worse but in this kind of pain, you had no control. It was quick, a flash of heat but the pain lingered.
“You’re okay,” Shoto’s voice cuts through the ringing in your head. His hands trying to comfort you in any way possible. “You’re okay.”
Shoto watches as you clutch at the burn, the blood still covering you, pooling around you. Your costume is torn and there’s a nasty bruise already starting on your face. He can tell you’re out of it, the pain overwhelming. He’s never seen you this hurt, he’s never seen you so out of it, so vulnerable.
Something in Shoto wells up, his face feels hot, and his head is swimming. There’s a rage in him he has never felt, he’s been angry before but this is different. He finally understands what people mean when they say they’re ‘seeing red’.
You watch as Shoto turns, a flash of red, and the ice wall he put up to protect you both is evaporated. His steps are slow as he approaches the villain. Any attacks launched at him are easily deflected by the flames roaring around him. A trail of ice followed him.
The only way you can describe the scene in front of you is feral. Shoto takes the villain down like it’s nothing. But he doesn’t stop there. He’s on top of the villain wailing on him. You can’t see from where you are but you're sure the villain is bloody.
Deku arrives on the scene and is quick to his friend’s side, pulling him off the villain and trying to get Shoto to return from wherever he is right now.
Kirishima is at your side, his always reassuring smile on his face as he picks you up. “Let’s get you to a doctor.”
Cauterizing the wound was the right choice, the doctor informs you as you lay in a hospital bed cleaned and bandaged.
“If he hadn’t you would have lost a lot of blood by the time you go help.” The doctor explained. “The scar will be worse but much better than chancing death. Your friend saved your life.”
Other than a lot of painful bruises and scratches your wounds are minimal. No head injuries either which is always great. Just bed rest for at least a week to let things heal up.
Shoto enters your room as soon as the doctor is done with you. Whatever state he was in earlier is still lingering around him.
His eyes on you are intent, looking you over as if to make sure you were really okay.
“Sho,” You said softly mustering up your best smile despite the exhaustion you felt and the pain medicine making you feel a bit lightheaded. “My hero,” You tease playfully.
Normally when you try and lighten the mood he follows but this time it doesn’t work. He lets out a heavy breath. You aren’t exactly sure what is bothering him. Of course, he just finished a rough battle and had to cauterize your wound but you weren’t sure of the specific problem.
“The doctors said you saved my life,” You said. “If you hadn’t I would have bled out too much by the time I got here.”
Shoto sits down in the chair beside your bed. He still looks so tense. So upset. His silence usually doesn’t bother you but right now you feel like something is wrong but you don’t know how to help it.
“I’m sorry-” You said, your voice a bit smaller now. “I know that must have been awful for you- to have to use your fire like that. I never would have asked but-”
“I’m not upset about cauterizing your wound.” He interrupts. “I know it was the only way to save you, I’m sorry it had to be done but the last thing you should be is worried about my feelings when you’re dying.”
“Oh,” You said. Now you were more unsure what he was upset about. “You still seem really upset, what’s wrong?”
“Seeing you hurt like that…” It sounds like he’s going to save more but he stops.
“Being hurt is part of the job,” You said, your tone light. Despite facing your own death not long ago you aren’t as bothered about it for some reason. Perhaps it’s easier to joke than face your own fears. “Besides, if I was gone you’d get a new work partner. I’m sure you’re tired of me at this point.” You tease.
Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say. His eyes snap to you and you see anger fill them. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” You probably shouldn’t push but you aren’t in the best place to be making choices right now.
Shoto stands up, his chair sliding back loudly. You blink as he paces the hospital room.
“You don’t get it!” He shouted, his anger wasn’t directed towards you but rather out of his frustration. “I lost it out there. I’ve never felt like that. Like I couldn’t control my own body. I’ve never beaten a villain until I couldn’t recognize them.” His chest heaved, emotions running through him. “Closing that wound- that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Hurting you like that-” His eyes were glassy, his voice caught in his throat. “But I knew it was the only way to save you.”
“I’m not upset because my coworker got hurt! Or even my best friend! I’m upset because I almost lost the love of my life and I never even told you!” A silence falls over the room like he’s surprised by his own words.
“What?” You stare at your best friend in shock.
“I love you.” This time his words are sure, his breathing evens. “I love you, I’ve loved you since we were in high school. You light up every day even when they’re really bad ones. You make even the most mundane or annoying things fun. You’re strong and your kind and you’re my everything.”
Shoto loves you?
Of course, you were close, of course, you worked together, and spent your free time together. And well you were close with his family and always attended events together. There wasn’t a part of your life that Shoto wasn’t in. How often did you go over to his place and make him dinner? How often did he bring you your favorite snacks and drinks during patrol? Was there ever really a moment that you weren’t with him or thinking about him?
Oh.
You loved Shoto.
Dating was always something you avoided. Going on awkward first dates. Trying to get to know someone. Figuring out if they were worth dating. It just was unappealing to you. You had always thought you didn’t have time for a romantic partner because of work but the truth was you thought that you already spent most of your time with Shoto. When would you have time with someone else?
Now you realize it was because Shoto already took the space in your life for a romantic partner. You never yearned for someone because you already had your person. You already had the person you wanted to share everything with.
You just hadn’t realized that was the case.
“I understand you don’t feel the same way, and I’m sorry if this makes things awkward.” He said. “I just can’t move forward without telling you. Not after I almost lost you.”
“Sho,” You said softly. “Come here.”
Shoto looks confused but he moves closer, you take his hand in yours as he sits on the bed facing you.
“I have to admit-” You said with a small smile. “I’m an idiot.”
“What do you mean?” He asked looking confused.
“I always thought that I didn’t need a boyfriend, I always wondered why so many people felt the need to find someone to occupy that space in their life.” You said. “But now I realize that it’s because I’ve had you. You’re with me at work, with me in my free time. We eat meals together, we go shopping together. I mean I go to your family dinners.” You laughed. “This whole time I had you.”
Your gaze is on him, it feels like you're seeing him for the first time. This man, he’s not just your friend- he’s your everything. And for the first time in your life, you have this all-consuming urge to kiss him.
“I love you, Shoto.” You said. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time I was just too blind to see it.”
Shoto smiles at you and it’s blinding. You’ve never seen him so happy before. You move forward to be closer to him but you let out a hiss of pain. His expression turns into concern as he presses you back so you won’t hurt yourself.
“Can you come closer,” You said leaning back against your bed.
Shoto leans closer to you. It’s funny you’ve been this close to him before but it feels different now. It feels electric. “Is this better?”
“It is but-” You said raising your hand up to his cheek, gently brushing against his scar. “It’d be better if you kiss me.”
Shoto blushes but it doesn’t stop him from taking your face in his hands and leaning forward. His lips are soft against yours, eyes closed as his lips move against yours.
Your other hand moves to his neck and you can feel how fast his heart is beating.
He pulls back as you take a deep breath. It seems he can’t keep a smile off his face, it makes you smile despite the pain.
“I can’t believe I almost lost you.” He said. “I was so scared.”
There’s something about the rawness of his tone, it stirs up everything you kept down about this day. You almost died. You would have never had this realization that has changed your life course. You would have left Shoto heartbroken.
Tears well up in your eyes as you start to cry. Shoto is quick to comfort you. He pulls you close, holding you as you let it out. “It’s okay, you’re safe with me.” He coos into your ear. “You’ll always be safe with me.”
Once you calm down he slips into the bed with you, promising to stay with you overnight. You’re sure after his display today no one is going to tell him no.
Laying in the bed, his arm comfortably wrapped around you as you rest on his shoulder. You watch TV.
“Today a villain attack in the heart of downtown caused quite a stir.” The newswoman said. “When things started to look bad we saw top hero Shoto put on quite a display as he defeated the villain.”
The footage is even more crazy from the view from above. The flames around Shoto as the ice went haywire.
The footage jumps to an interview with a ‘hero expert’. “People consider Shoto to be a pretty stoic hero but today we saw an intense scene after his hero partner got injured badly.” They said. “It just goes to show how much more power we can see from these heroes when push comes to shove.”
You looked up at Shoto as he watched the TV. “I guess people won’t think of you as such an icy hero anymore.” You tease.
“I’m not icy.” He said.
“I know that.” You hummed, grabbing his hand in yours. “I think you are quite warm. Cozy even.” You smiled. He looked down at you with a heart-stopping smile. He looked at you with such endearment. “You’re just quiet but people don’t see the whole picture.”
“Like you do?”
“Yeah,” You smiled. “Shoto you’re kind and caring. You’re not this wall of ice that doesn’t falter. I’ve seen you take losses and I’ve seen you exhausted. You’re not this one note of a personality you’re so- so amazing and unique. There’s so much to you and they don’t even see a fraction of it.”
You lean up to press a kiss against his lips. “But I get to see it and I think that’s the greatest honor I’ve ever had.”
Shoto smiles at you as his had rests on your cheek as he pulls you in for another kiss. “You’re my heart.” He said. “You’re my everything.”
“I’m sorry I took so long to see it.” You said.
“It’s okay because this is just the beginning.” He smiled.
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After cleaning up the mess that the battle made downtown and making sure the villain was squared away, Kirishima and Midoriya went to check to see how you were doing.
As they opened the door to your hospital room they saw Shoto in your bed, your head on his chest as his arms were wrapped around you protectively. Both of you were fast asleep. The two heroes smiled.
"Took them long enough," Midoriya said quietly as Kirishima laughed.
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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year
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YANDERE! DELINQUENT! OC x READER
As celebration for 1K followers and 1K likes on the HAIRPIN | POPPED short fic. I have drawn a sketch of Mori and made another fic for you all ! Enjoy ;D
Please read the previous fic linked above for context.
warnings: [y/n] is masc leaning though i don’t use anything specific to describe them. [y/n] is kind of a terrible person. perv! mori. mentions of sex. underwear theft. stalking. m. masturbation.
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IT TOOK MORI AN EMBARRASSING AMOUNT OF TIME TO NOTICE THAT YOU TWO WERE IN THE SAME CLASS. But now that he knew, he made sure to attend as much as he can. Shamelessly staring at you like he was about to have you as his next meal.
This would have prompted your classmates to warn you, if you weren’t such a menace and a half yourself.
From what Mori learned from his stalking, you were about as bad as he was when it came to physical hostility only that yours came in the form of verbal and emotional assaults. You were known for turning even the most popular person in campus into an outcast with just a click of a button. It became your job to basically be on the know-how of everyone. You probably knew everything there is about Mori himself.
He found out after seeing an underclassman confess to you. Poor kid had his heart shattered when you told him that you shared his declined terrific confessions about wanting to be railed by you, to not only the entire school, but the internet as well.
What was even worse was that kid still liked you after all that. Apparently you two were acquaintances and he had unknowingly saved the junior from getting his ass beat by kicking the bullies’. And that led to you and Mori meeting.
Tch. Why did he have to owe that lanky piece of shit the honor of encountering you?
After going through the 5 stages of grief that is falling in love with you. Mori decided to just fuck it and accept the fact that he ain’t getting you out of his heart and/or mind anytime soon.
Might as well indulge his feelings.
By that he means following you everywhere.
And he means everywhere.
His lackeys are so confused. Why was Boss stalking you? You had a horrid reputation like him, but you only attacked when provoked. But the way Boss was staring you down said otherwise. His horny was mistaken as anger.
This would have prompted them to ‘deal’ with you. If you didn’t threaten their social lives.
So for the next month it had been a standstill. Until one fateful day. When you dragged him to a dark, abandoned shed behind the school.
And started taking off your pants/skirt, and your undergarments. Your genitalia out for show.
“Wh-Wha—Wait— I’m—“ He stuttered. He’d seen you strip many times before. Even masturbating inside your closet and on your bed. But seeing you do it right in front of him with nothing between you two was still . . . new but nice . . . and a tad bit overwhelming.
“It’s my underwear.” You dangle the piece of cloth on front of his face. Using your free hand to put your pants/skirt back on.
“I can see that, why are you giving me your dirty ass—“
“I was thinking it may have been the kid. Taking all my laundry and all that. But then you started following me everywhere.”
“Y-You knew?!”
“I was guessing. But now I know.” You shrugged casually, as if you hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell in the world. As if you hadn’t just exposed his depraved actions towards youz
“Which brings me to my next point, I want you to go out with me.”
“What?!”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“YES! I mean, yes — But . . . why ?”
“Well it’s an equal exchange. I’d have a boyfriend to stop all those pesky confessions and attempts at my life, which you have been doing for me in the background. Thank you, by the way—“
“You’re- You’re welcome? You could have said something—“
“Let me talk properly before I change my mind.” Tired of holding your underwear, you decided to throw it on his face before continuing, “And you, get to take all the underwear you’d like. Get to take me on all the dates you’d like. Maybe even fuck me in whatever place or position you’d like.”
This was too good to be true. Mori was leaking from the words coming out your mouth, but he had to make sure he wasn’t getting himself into a situation he didn’t want.
“What’s the catch?”
“It’s simple. Know your place. I take the reins of this relationship. Not you. I make the decisions and adjustments to this exchange. Not you. We’ll break up when I say so. So there’s no backing out on your terms I’m afraid.”
The arrangements seemed unfair. Too perfect. It wasn’t as if he’ll break up with you at any moment, he’ll just have to focus on keeping your eyes on him. There was nothing to be afraid of. Doubt still permeated, but even then . . .
“Deal.” He answered immediately. The benefits were too good to care about essentially being a guard dog. He might as well indulge as he has been.
This time without the time spent hesitating on his decision.
“Let’s make good on that deal right now, shall we?”
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[ YANDERE DELINQUENT / MORI CHARACTER PROFILE ]
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samkerrworshipper · 6 months
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all yours | leah williamson x reader x lia wälti
when r finds out that their two bestfriends (and secret crushes) have gotten together on a trip they go into a meltdown of feeling left out and unloved - lw2 sort them out and show them just how loved they are by the two of them
just fluff, angst, confessions of love, lack of taking care of themselves and zero editing or proof reading because it’s 1am rn and i have to be at school at 8 ☠️
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Lia and Leah. The indomitable couple, that had very quickly become the talk of the soccer community. They were a power couple, the swiss and english captain surprising the whole women's football community when announcing their relationship. You were happy for them, the two women were your best friends in the whole world, so when the photos from their recent trip during a international break to Ibiza had popped up you should have been ecstatic, but for some reason you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something else.
The two women were your best friends in the entire world, but you also harboured feelings for both of the women, and now that they were romantically involved you couldn’t help but feel a little bit gutted at the idea that when they returned to Arsenal for the season it would be the two of them together as a couple, and not the three of you as best friends. You were obviously happy for them, sending them a flurry of congratulations and expressions of your happiness about them getting together, but you couldn’t help the feeling in your gut that was almost making you jealous of what the two women had.
You spent the few days left of the break confined to your flat, in too much of a slump to go any further from your bed then to your home gym that was in your spare bedroom.
When the break ended you forced yourself to gather up the guts to return to the Arsenal training ground, pulling together every part of you just to make it to training. When you walked into the change rooms they were already full of your teammates, all of them in various states of undress and engaging in a series of activities. Leah and Lia were the first people to recognise your presence, calling out for you to come and sit with them over near Leah’s cubby, but you ignored them, walking straight towards your own. You didn’t even make it to the locker though before Katie was sliding down on the bench directly in front of you, stopping you from slinging your kit bag into your cubby.
“What’s got you down today, y/l/n?”
Her voice was so playful, everything that you normally loved about the woman, but today you had no tolerance. You’d hardly slept, you’d been too tired to make your morning coffee or breakfast so you were an uncaffeinated grump.
You shoved Katie out of the way, with a quick push, moving her far enough out of your way that you were able to slide your bag into the cubby and begin to strip off your tracksuit and hoodie so you could throw on your training gear.
“Wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or was it somebody else's bed?”
It was in Katie’s nature to be annoying, she was one of your best friends, an older sister to you in a lot of ways and normally you had quite a lot of tolerance for her prodding, but today your sleep deprived form wasn’t having any of it.
“Fuck off Katie.”
Your voice was cutthroat, as you tugged your Arsenal hoodie over your head and replaced it with your training kit. You then followed with toeing off the runners you had on and sliding your track pants down your legs, letting them pool at your ankle before stepping out of them and throwing them into your cubby.
“Ooh, she’s fiery today, you can tell me darl, who’s the lucky lady or lass?”
You rolled your eyes, biting down on your tongue to stop you from saying anything seriously offensive to the older woman, for your own safety.
You pulled your training shorts up and then sat down on the bench, pulling your socks and cleats out of your bag.
“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but nobody, so go fuck with somebody else because you are getting jack out of me this morning, fuck off.”
It was a lot of expletives, something unusual for you. You didn’t like to swear, in fact off the pitch you rarely swore, but today you felt so on edge, so out of place. There were tears brimming behind your eyes, tears that would never fall but burned your eyes all the same. Katie looked like she was going to say something else but Kim became your saving grace, getting in between the two of you and tugging Katie over to her own cubby, leaving you on your own.
You made quick work of your socks and cleats, slipping them easily over your feet, the part you struggled with was your laces, your hands shaking too badly to even get a grip on the fine pieces of polyester. It was embarrassingly humbling, your brain very quickly becoming aggravated at your inability to complete the one basic task. You glared down at your laces, ready to curse them out as well when your hands were grabbed by someone else's. You froze immediately, looking up to locate the source of the hands that were binding your hands from continuing to fail at the task they had.
You frowned a little bit at Viv. Aware, that the older woman probably wasn’t exactly happy with your treatment of your teammate. She didn’t say anything though, didn’t reprimand you, just pushed your hands up to rest on the bench and began the task of tying up your laces.
“What’s up?”
Viv’s words were hushed, so nobody else in the locker room could hear them beside you. Her words were soft, genuine, caring.
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
Viv rolled her eyes, finishing your left foot and then moving onto tying up your right one.
“You aren’t very good at lying, jochie.”
Your jaw locked at Viv’s words, watching her finish your left boot, as soon as her hands had left your feet you shot up off the bench, pushing her away as well and marching to the change room door, making your way out towards the training ground before Viv had the opportunity to ask you about your feelings again.
You trained like shit. Your sleep deprivation and lack of energy clear in your actions, you were sloppy, inaccurate and overall just poor in performance. You were approached multiple times by both Leah and Lia, as well as Kim and Jonas, who all seemed a little bit shocked by the shell of a player you were on the field. Before the break you’d been on top of your game, you were unstoppable on the pitch, scoring goals and assists. Your training session hardly reflected that though, on the pitch you looked like a rookie, you were playing like a rookie. You avoided them all as much as you could, especially the couple.
By the end of training you were rushing off the pitch, getting changed as quickly as possible and then getting to your car in record time, avoiding anybody who got in your way.
The couple were extremely shocked by your behaviour, the two of them sharing glances throughout the whole of training and in the change rooms afterwards, the both of them equally perplexed by your behaviour. On the drive home they shared similar thoughts, the both of them were equally worried about you and equally confused about your behaviour.
The next few days only got worse for you. Your lack of sleep and nutrition were affecting you even more and none of the girls came anywhere near you in the locker rooms, having observed Katie, Viv and Beth all be on the flip side of your outbursts when the three of them tried to push you. It wasn’t pretty and you knew that you were getting very close to getting a proper dressing down from Kim, your days were becoming numbered and you knew that if you didn’t pick up your act you were going to get a serious sit down.
You just couldn’t find it in you to care, all you could think about was the two women that had a few weeks ago been your best friends in the entire world. They were everywhere, at training, at team dinner, at team movie night. Everywhere you went they were there, so you found solace in your house which was the only space you had to yourself. The two women had been texting you, calling you, even daring to show up to the door of your flat, spending ten minutes knocking on the door. It had been ten agonising minutes in which you’d buried yourself in your bedsheets, patiently awaiting the two women to lead. Your avoidance had been going reasonably well, you weren’t in their gym group so they didn’t really have an excuse to approach you then, your cubby was on the other side of the locker room and you actively avoided them in training sessions.
It was going as fine as fine could go, you totally weren’t crying yourself to sleep every night thinking of the two women, or scrolling through both of their feeds everyday and looking at the old pictures of you three from merely a few weeks ago. It was all going fine until they cornered you in the locker rooms after a particularly rough training session.
It shouldn’t have been a rough session, Katie had been put on you and she was a rough defender but you were faster and more agile, but not with your sleep deprivation and malnutrition. Every time you got the ball she came at you, laying tackles that you would normally walk off easily, but today it had all hurt more, all been so much rougher. The third tackle had you woozy and unable to walk in a straight line, so you’d been accompanied off the field onto the sidelines where you’d resided for the rest of training.
When training had finished you’d disappeared into the change rooms, hoping that you would be able to slip out before everybody else as you’d done for the last week of training.
Instead though, when you were just finishing getting changed you were cornered by the couple, Leah pinning you down to the bench with her hands so you were unable to get up.
“You’ve been avoiding us.”
You kept your eyes on your feet, unable to look at the soft eyes of the two women.
“I’ve just been busy.”
It was a white lie, one you were sure that the two women saw right through.
“No you haven’t, you’ve been avoiding us and neither of us can figure out why.”
Leah’s words felt like a hot iron against your brain, the words branding into your skull.
Lia’s hand fell to your chin, pulling it up from your feet so you were forced to look at the couple.
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
Leah rolled her eyes at you, the blonde woman not even acknowledging your blatant lie.
“Yes you have, and now you're avoiding it, you haven’t talked to us since before the break and you’ve clearly not been looking after yourself, so what’s up, y/n/n?”
You bit your lip, trying your hardest to pull your eyes from Leah but her hold on your chin making it hard.
“Fuck off will you?”
It was the same aggression you’d been hiding behind all week, the same aggression you’d been using to push everyone else out. It was malicious, cut throat, everything the two women knew you weren’t. You were hiding behind it as a coping mechanism, and they knew it. So whilst it worked at pushing the rest of your teammates out, it did nothing but make them more concerned about you, their hearts clenching at the way your muscles tensed against Leah’s hand and the way your face thrashed against her grip, she didn’t let go though, to scared that if she let go they’d never be able to get you back again.
“You know that I won’t sweet, we care about you too much, so what’s up, tell me, you know you can trust me.”
You shook your head against her hand, burning tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, tears that you refused to let fall, you were on emotional lock down, too scared to let a single one fall, because you knew that if you did it would just end up worse.
“Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off.”
Your words were murmured like a ritual, like a reminder to your brain that you needed to push them out, you needed to push them out so they could stay pushed out of your brain.
“Pushing us out isn’t going to work, bunny.”
Lia’s voice was softer in comparison to Leah’s, attempting to coax you into some kind of comfortable submission that would ice out the anger leaking from your body. She was the water to Leah’s fire.
“I’m fine.”
Leah rolled her eyes.
“I find that hard to believe,” Leah frowned at the little tinge of something roll across your face and her confrontation, “The bags under your eyes tell me that you haven’t slept properly in at least the last week, you’ve lost weight and you were so dizzy early that you looked like you hadn’t drunk water in a month, so you aren’t fine and your hiding it, which means your even less fine, so I’ll ask you once again what’s up?”
You finally managed to free your chin of Leah’s grip, standing up quickly from the bench and almost managed to slip past the two women but one of Lia’s muscular arms managed to catch you around the waist, securely bringing you to her side, holding you down against it.
“Not so fast liebling, Lee asked you a question and you are going to answer it.”
“Nothing’s up.”
It was clear that neither of the women believed you.
“Rightyo then, you’re coming home with us, Jonas’ orders.”
You frowned deeply again.
“No, I don’t have to go home with you, I have my own home, I am a fucking adult I don’t need you two babysitting me.”
You watched as Leah frowned steadily at you, picking up your bag and her own before nodding at Lia who began to tug you along behind them.
“If you want to play this weekend then you will come home with us, you’ve clearly not been taking care of your own health and until you do, you need supervision, call it babysitting if you’d like, I’d call it hanging out with your best friends but whatever works for you.”
You cowered slightly at the passive aggressive tone that Leah used towards you, her voice cutting deeply into your brain, leaving a deep enough impression for you to get the message that this decision had been made for you and you didn’t have a say in what was happening. So you let them lead you to Leah’s car, let Lia buckle you into the backseat and then slide in beside you and didn’t object as Leah started to drive you back towards her house.
Most of your nights and weekends had been spent at Leah’s house, a few weeks ago you two had been inseparable, you’d grown up together, the two of you inseparable Milton Keynes girls. When you’d moved away from home you’d been each other's first roommates, you’d always wanted more but you’d been too afraid to compromise your friendship. Then somewhere along your careers Lia had entered your friendship and the three of you had very quickly become inseparable. There had always been tension between the three of you, drunken kisses shared between all of you, handsy exchanges that you’d always pawned off on the two other women just being touchy. Apparently though they had been more than just touchy for each other, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit left out, like they were experiencing a whole other level of your relationship that only the two of them would feel.
When you’d pulled up to Leah’s flat you’d felt a part of your stomach drop, the anxiety of having to be in a house with the two women setting in and making you feel sick. Lia’s hand had found it’s way to your knee cap, squeezing it slightly. When Leah parked her car the two of them exited the vehicle, Lia apparently being tasked with carrying all of your bags and Leah being tasked with getting you inside.
She’d walked around to your side of the car, unstrapping your seatbelt and pulling you up out of your seat by pulling you up by your armpits. You went limp against her, all of the emotions, all of the angry shields, all of the fakeness and disregard for your general health making you well and truly spent, your body had identified you were no longer in danger, no longer in a space where you had to put up shields and it had come to the conclusion that you now no longer had to do that. So you let Leah man handle you up the stairs, let her tug your shoes off at the door and drag you across her floorboards, until she managed to get to her couch and sit the both of you down on it.
She sat herself down first, getting herself situated on the lounge before laying you down in between her legs, so your head was resting steadily against her chest. Your body still in its mellowed out state, your brain floating in a sort of haze that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Eventually Lia rejoined the two of you, freshly showered and dressed. She came bearing three cups of hot cocoa and slotted herself in between Leah’s legs and my own, criss crossing on top of my feet. The pressure felt good, relaxing, and calming. Lia passed me one of the ups and I took a tentative sip, the feeling of the warm chocolate slipping down my throat, nothing besides complete divinity.
“So, what’s really up, hm?”
Lia’s voice was as soft as silk, gliding through the room and falling gently upon your ears.
“Nothing’s up.”
Your voice was gruff in comparison, nothing close to anything that was happening in this room, your tone felt out of place, just like you felt in between the two. Like you were an unfit jigsaw piece.
“Honey, I don’t know why you feel like you need to lie to us, but you don’t, whatever it is we can sort it out, you know that we’d never judge you right?”
Lia’s words were so soft, so smooth, so calming and yet they did absolutely nothing to calm the feelings inside your soul, the feelings of complete yearning for the two women that now seemed completely forbidden.
“It’s stupid.”
You felt Leah’s head lean over your own, looking down at you from her place from above you, one of her eyebrows raised in questioning.
“Nothing you feel is stupid, bunny.”
The nickname bunny came from when you and Leah were kids. You’d been a fluff ball as a kid, a fluffy ball of blonde hair that had somehow ended up with Leah nicknaming you bunny. It had somehow stuck throughout your teenage years and your years at Arsenal, as much as it riled you up.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
You felt like a kid, with the two women looking down at you as if you were their child.
“Too bad, we are. Whatever it is has clearly taken a massive toll on your health and wellbeing and we can’t have that. It helps to talk, so talk to us, talk to us like you did a few weeks ago.”
You pushed yourself out of Leah’s arms, standing up in her living room and beginning to pace in front of the two women, your heels digging into the material of the carpet.
“You want to know what’s up? You two go to Ibiza for a week, a trip I would have gone on if I didn’t have family commitments. You come back and the two of you are fucking dating, you didn’t tell my anything, I didn’t even get a fucking phone call to say, guess what your two bestfriends have gotten together. It’s messing with my head, because we were all touchy and handsy, we all made out with eachother and I pawned it off as the three of us just being close, but turns out it wa just the two of you and I’m a fucking third wheel and now I just feel like you’re tugging me along because you feel bad for me, not because you actually give two shits about our friendship.”
Leah’s arms stopped you from pacing, making you realise that tears were now slowly dipping down your face at a steady rate. Leah tugged you back down into her arms, wrapping them both around you to secure you to her chest.
“Bunny, bunny, take deep breaths for me, it’s okay.”
You shook your head against her body, thrashing and pushing against her grip but she refused to let you go, not when she now knew how much she’d hurt you now.
“It’s not fine, it’s not fine, you two love each other and I love you both but you don’t love me, you don’t want me, not how I want either of you, not how I feel for either of you.”
You felt Leah take a deep breath from behind you, her own tears nor brimming in the back of her eyes, now beginning to feel the true depth of her and Lia’s actions.
“Bunny, we both love you so much, more than you would ever know and I’m so sorry you’ve felt this way, I’m so sorry that we never communicated anything with you. Me and Lia, we love you, we’ve always loved you, hell I’ve loved you since we were 5. The last few years, we’ve been trying so fucking hard to get you to realise, to get you to understand the magnitude of how much we love you. But you never did, the drunken kisses, the secret glances and touches, we thought it was all platonic for you and after a while, the two of us began to think that we were waiting for nothing, so in Ibiza we bit the bullet, we decided that we couldn’t wait around for a person who didn’t reciprocate our feelings. I am so sorry we never saw it, I’m so sorry that neither of us were confident enough to just ask you the question, but we’re going to work it out now, we’re going to make it all work out, I promise you.”
Your body relaxed fully against Leah’s, all the fight disappearing as Leah’s words sunk into your skin, stretching across your skin like a layer of silk.
Lia clambered her way up the sofa, squishing you between Leah and herself and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Liebling, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to sort this out, and Leah and I, we are going to spend every day making it up to you, everyday proving just how loved you are, ich verspreche.”
Everything fell into place for you, maybe everything wasn’t perfect right now, maybe there was still a lot of things the three of you had to work out, but you didn’t feel out of place anymore between the two women, you felt perfectly in place, like your jigsaw piece had finally feel into place.
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talaok · 1 year
Note
This is a Spencer Reid request. Can you make something out of the scene where Spencer was telling Derek about his story about being tied to a pole by the football team in high school, and the only one there for him is reader? Like they grew up geniuses together or something
Y’all have so many great ideas, I'm jealous.
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Geniuses
"Garcia restored those emails," Derek said, entering the room.
"yeah, I'm sorting through them right now" Spencer was sat in front of the computer, quickly scanning through them,
He hadn't found anything yet, and the tension was quickly rising in his chest.
Derek sat on the bed behind him, the mattress creaking underneath his weight
"Reid" he called for him, making him turn "you know, you're not the only one who identifies with him," he said, "you said I was a high school jock," he shrugged " I was, but not at first. my freshman year I was 5' 3" he chuckled " I weighed a buck 20 soaking wet, so trust me when I tell you I got my ass kicked every day," he explained " so the following summer I hit the weights, and I got lucky, I grew six inches, but it was never about vanity Reid, it was about survival"
spencer cleared his throat, maybe he had judged him too quickly.
"I was in the library and, uh-" Spencer started recalling " harper Hillman comes up to me and she tells me that Alexa Lisbon wants to meet me behind the fieldhouse," he told "Alexa Lisbon's like, easily the prettiest girl in school"
"so what happened, Alexa wasn't there?"
Spencer's eyes saddened.
For how much he had tried to forget all of this, all the wrongs and painful things people had done to him, it was impossible.
he still felt like that kid at times, that scared defenseless kid who couldn't do anything but accept what was done to him,
He often thought that maybe that's all he was ever going to be, a tall child, his height diffrent, but him the same.
"no she was there," his lips thinned into a bitter smile " so was the entire football team. They stripped me naked and tied me to a goal post" he had to stop a moment "so many kids were there, you know, just watching"
He could still see them,
he could still hear their manic laughs,
and he could still remember that feeling, that feeling of being completely impotent, pathetic, of being nothing.
"Nobody tried to stop them?"
A spark ignited in his eyes, y/n's face blessing his mind.
"There was one person"
"Who?"
"y/n," he smiled "Y/n Y/ln" his smile only got wider as he remembered you on that day, your sweet voice cracking as you yelled at them, begging them to stop, trying to let them understand what they were doing, that it was a human being they were humiliating "she tried" his smile got sad "She always did"
"but nobody listened"
Derek shook his head, a deep sigh fleeing his mouth
"We were the youngest people there you know?" he explained "she had skipped three years, like me" he chuckled "We made a pact the moment we met, we told each other that no matter what, we weren't gonna give up, we weren't gonna let them win" he laughed softly "she always used to say- no matter what happens, you keep your head high, only that way you'll see the finish line-"
Derek smiled too now
"she's the only reason I survived" he confessed "she's the reason I'm here"
"she seems great"
"she is"
"Where is she now?" he asked "we could use another genius on the team"
Spencer laughed "She's a teacher," he said "she's helping people like us"
"she's changing things from within"
"Well I'm glad she was there Reid" Derek patted his shoulder
"So am I"
he beamed
So am I.
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mvltisstuff · 6 months
Note
hi!! could you possibly do a one-shot where buck and reader are flirting during the dosed episode? like they get high and are handcuffed and are just giggling and flirting and then accidental confession or something and then the next day they’re just like “i’m pretty sure we’re dating now..” thank you so so much!! this idea just made me giggle so <33
you get me so high - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
gif does not belong to me
a/n: i adore this idea, thank you for sharing <3 i worked on this very sporadically, and i’m not the biggest fan of it but i hope you enjoy!
whoever brought those brownies in was an angel to y/n. yeah, a felony for sure, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t secretly enjoy it.
even though the whole station had been haunted by taylor and her team the entire day, all of the worries of the job seemed to vanish. buck wasn’t sure why, but he just saw everything different than he has before. nature called for him and he was more than excited to be at his job.
he just wanted to laugh at everything, each little girl in front of him was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. he watched y/n from across the room, sitting on the floor and playing with a girl in a massive dress shaped like a pastry.
“where did you get this dress?” she asks, running her fingers down the satin on the side.
“my mommy bought it for me!”
“can she buy one for me?” y/n asks, turning her head to see the grown firefighter skipping over.
“y/n!” he shoots out quickly, jogging over to lean next to her on the ground.
“hi buck! will you buy me a dress like this?”
“only if you buy me one,” he smiles. “maybe we should put bobby in one.” he starts completely laughing at the thought of bobby in a pretty pink dress, with a sash and a tiara.
“what is going on- buck!” chim shouts. “can someone help us over here?”
“how are we not helping?” buck asks, leading y/n to just shrug. they glance over at eddie in the corner, looking at all the pageant girls like they have 5 heads. he almost looks fearful of them, swaying in his spot.
the next few minutes were a blur, and suddenly they were all handcuffed together against a wall. hen, eddie, buck, and y/n were all connected by their hands, being watched by athena like they misbehaved at school.
“ooh, you made him cry!” buck teases, looking at the tears streaming down eddie’s face. y/n just looks closer to athena’s face.
“you’re a hot cop, thena,” y/n speaks airily, just smiling cheekily at the officer in front of her.
“you guys are high as hell and you’re on duty.”
“what?” hen exclaims. “i didn’t smoke anything-“
“well you ate something! someone brought marijuana brownies into the station, so you’re all off work.”
the team just looks around in shock, not fully caring until y/n and buck start giggling once more. “just- just sit down against this wall, and do not move.” athena demands, walking away to deal with the other emergency in the main room.
y/n and buck sat fine against the wall, comparing hands and very lightly slapping each other on the sides. a few spouts of silence would happen for a few minutes while the group of stoners just watched the world pass in front of them.
“buck,” y/n whispers.
“what?” he asks.
“you’re really cute, like i just figured i’d let you know.”
“thanks, you’re a cutie, too,” she giggles at his words, throwing her head back against the wall as he just glances at her. normal, sober buck would’ve had a racing heart and nerves fluttering all over his body because she told him he was cute. he knows he’s not bad looking, but hearing it from her is when he truly believes it. now, he just figured why not? yolo, anyway.
“no, you’re like cute cute. like hot oiled up firefighter cute.”
“that means so much, y/n,” he says, the sly remark almost making his heart clench.
“i want you under my christmas tree.”
“well, i want you in an easter egg for me.”
“well, i want you-“
“can you just shut up?” eddie asks, still distressed about being handcuffed and drugged. “we get it, you’re into each other. and what happens when you’re not high?”
“i don’t remember talking to you,” buck teases, giving eddie a side eye but keeping his head directed towards the pretty girl next to him.
“alright,” athena comes back into sight. “let’s get you all home, maybe sleep off some of this.”
the next morning, y/n remembered every little thing she said to buck, and he remembered every little thing he said to her. they hoped maybe it was like alcohol, making them forget what they may or may not have said, but nope. it was clear as day. it didn’t feel as awkward, though. it felt easier. like a weight was off their shoulders after being weighed down for so long.
when they both arrived at work, the look from the other just told them everything they had to know. buck meant everything he said, and so did she. her eyes lightly wandered over his, and he didn’t even make her say anything. they both knew that those cookies made a great thing burst open.
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aestherin · 1 year
Text
privacy
34: one mistake
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When did it all start?
Ah, it was when he first heard your singing voice during eleventh grade.
It was the during the time of the day when most students would flock to the cafeteria, rushing to eat their fill after half a day's worth of academic torture. Even before then, he already disliked crowded and hectic places. And so, he went the opposite direction of everyone.
Turns out he wasn't the only one with that idea.
The sweet and enchanting voice of a nightingale was what welcomed him the moment he arrived at the school's courtyard. Not rushing to eat lunch just to hear this was worth it, he concluded.
He didn't even know your name at the time, for you two were not in the same class. And when you turned around — good lord.
Your face was beautiful, but it wasn't familiar at all. It was odd, how this was the first time he saw you. He thought for sure that with an appearance like that, if he had ever met you prior, he wouldn't be able to forget you.
Was the school really that big for you two to miss each other every single time?
"Oh. A person. Uhm, hi?"
Fuck. Even your speaking voice was attractive.
Kunikuzushi was damned.
And he has been, for many years. Even up until now.
The present him looked up at nowhere, quietly laughing at himself.
How pathetic.
'You've liked her since you were still students, and you still haven't got the guts to even confess.'
'You're both famous people now, hundreds of thousands of people — maybe even millions — wanting the two of you... yet you're still stuck simply being her friend.'
Boy best friend, he argued with himself. But Scaramouche himself also did not know if that was better or worse.
"I have arrived," he heard a smooth voice. Kunikuzushi instictively frowned. This? This was the voice of the man you fell for?
He almost rolled his eyes. He could do better than this guy in front of him. He bets Ayato couldn't even sing.
"Sit."
Ayato looked around the area but found no chairs. "Where?" All he could see was cemented grounds, ramps, and curves. Why did they have to meet at a deserted skateboarding area anyway?
Scaramouche smirked. "Ah, sorry. I forgot you're a rich boy. We can't have you sitting on the dirty floor now, could we?"
It was as if a tick mark appeared on the taller man's head. Feigning a smile, he breathed, "Did you ask to meet me just to insult me, bastard?"
"Wow. Was it that obvious?"
"No, not really."
"I'm just getting back at you."
"Pardon? I don't even know you, aside from you being a celebrity. This is the first time we've met and suddenly you say you're getting back at me?"
"Shut the fuck up. You insulted me first."
"Hah?"
"You getting together with [Name] so easily was the biggest insult I've ever received in my entire existence."
Oh.
Now, Ayato was no idiot. Of course, he immediately realized the underlying message of Scaramouche's statement. Was that why this man called for him? Did he receive news of their so-called 'break-up' and was now planning to tell him that he's going to pursue you now that you're not in a relationship anymore?
Ayato's eyes followed Scaramouche as he stood up from the metal rail he was previously sitting on. Meanwhile, the shorter one looked and turned away, seemingly looking at a distance.
"I knew it was all fake, by the way," he started. "She accidentally tweeted about it on her private account, and I got to see it before she deleted it."
"Since when?"
"That was even before your drama was released."
"That was a long time ago. You knew yet did nothing?"
Ayato was confused. If Scara had feelings for you, why didn't he act on it even after he found out that the thing you had for him was all a fraud? It was not something that he could comprehend.
Not with his way of thinking.
Kunikuzushi, on the other hand, begged to differ. He believed himself to have done the right thing.
He has already kept his affection for you to himself for several years, surely a few weeks, months more wouldn't be that big of a deal, right?
And so he stayed. Stayed observing, kept contemplating — remained being just a friend.
"Of course, the thought of having her for myself crossed my mind at that moment..." He smiled fondly. "...but I still didn't go with it."
He suddenly turned around, not giving Ayato the opportunity to retort.
"Because despite the fact that it wasn't real —"
Scaramouche sighed.
"— even the archons know how in love she was with you."
That left him speechless. For a seemingly inconsiderate and rough guy to say those words...
How can he remain calm? Another person who has romantic feelings for you just told him about your sincerest sentiments for him.
"Why are you —"
Ayato cut himself off with a forced gag.
"What the fuck?" He glared at the man who just punched his gut. He unconsciously hovered his arm over the pained area; though it wasn't too powerful, the sheer unexpectedness of the punch was enough to make it sting.
"Just because she loves you doesn't mean you get a pass. My anger won't vanish quickly, airhead."
Airhead?
Did... did he just insult me?
Me?
Yours truly?
This made Ayato raise a brow. "Oh?"
"Why not punch me in the face then? Scared?" Ayato challenged with a devious grin.
A sarcastic laugh was not what he was expecting in return.
"Are you dumb? With my strength, I am more than capable of landing a punch on your face that would take more than weeks to recover," Scaramouche smirked. "What if [Name] sees it? And her, being the angelic being she is, would ask you about it. Then you, being the conniving blabbermouth that you are, would tell her my name."
The fuck?
"She would be mad at me. That's the least thing I'd ever want."
"So that's why you punched me in an area that isn't visible."
"Precisely."
Ayato made a face. After a while, he attempted to get back at the other man with a punch too, but failed miserably. "Oh? Why are you hitting me back?"
"What kind of question even is that?"
"I thought you knew you deserved that punch in the gut," Kunikuzushi stated in a matter-of-fact tone, both hands inside his pockets. To Ayato, it seemed like the man in front of him was bigger than him at the moment. He was sneering down at him.
"You hurt her. So I punched you."
Yeah, I really did.
Backing down and lacking argument, he opted to just sit down on one of the skateboarding ramps. "Remind me why we had to meet here out of all places again?"
"This place..." Scaramouche followed his actions, sitting on the ramp opposite of him. "This place is special to me and [Name]. I used to skateboard often when I was still a student."
"She would always come to me with drinks and snacks in hand. Then, unofficially, this became our weekend hangout spot."
"So, you've liked her since... you were students?"
Kunikuzushi hummed.
"How come you've never told her in that whole time?"
"I'm a coward," he chuckled. "I didn't want to lose what we have. I was afraid that we would stray apart from each other once I do."
Ayato could do nothing but smile sympathetically. "I bet you wrote songs about her."
"Albums," Scaramouche corrected him.
"Damn."
"Yeah. Damn." Ayato felt the return of an intense glare. "I wrote entire albums for her then you had the audacity to hurt [Name] enough for her to end your relationship despite being deeply enamored with you? Wow. Tsk, tsk. Talk about a big jerk."
"I'm aware," he sighed. "Now, can you stop with that? Unless you really only called me out here to make me realize how much I messed up — which let's be honest I really did, and I honestly deserve every single shit you throw at me, but —"
"Glad to know that you know."
Ayato frowned.
He sensed a shift in Scaramouche's mood. He assumed the other was getting serious now. "I called you here because I want you to fix this mess... and to ask you a favor —"
"— I'm leaving [Name] in your care."
"..."
"However," The man pointed at him. "One mistake, Kamisato. One mistake and I'll make sure she'd want to spend her lifetime with me instead."
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privacy — ayato x reader smau
prev. masterlist. next.
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NOTES -> that was long im sorry ahfbdhd -> also scara pls be mine instead🥹🙏
TAGLIST I (closed) @catsrkool @sukunasrealgf @redactedhimbo @layla240 @mxlkytea13 @itsactuallylina @milza12 @aixaingela @tatiratty @kimiesstuff @laventiseriou @kunihaver @bibisbestgirl @lunaavity @coquettemaiden @opchara @slvdsjjk @cotton-eee @lady-elodie @dearxiiao @wheneverthesunrise @heartswonder @chuduchok @headphonesrlif3 @lleoll @vnderthesunn @lizzardlady1234 @nekogakuro @rifran @atlatcaheart @ani-st @creammpuff @lunastarjay @kittycasie @poisoned-candy-apples @zannivrs @b0bafl0wer @moonlightaangel @elsoleil
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androhtl · 1 year
Note
2004/2005 bf bill headcanons?
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BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS — bill kaulitz
thank you so much for the request i hope you enjoy reading this, i apologize if it's not up to your standards, headcanons are NOT my thing at all, but i tried!
again if you have any ideas don't be afraid to hit my ask box!
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you met bill in middle school and instantly clicked
he'd come to you when his twin would be busy and overtime he started catching feelings
after years of knowing eachother he finally decides to confess to you right before one of tokio hotel's biggest first shows
it went splendid btw
no it didn't
he was very nervous, his hands were sweating and shaking
but it worked out in the end!
now, i imagine 2005 bill to be one of those guys who wanna look cool in front of their s/o
like everytime you walk next to him he'd always grab your waist and would put a hand in your back pocket
until one day you laughed at him for it
he also laughed so it's all good
hear me out!
we all know that bill has always been a little bit more in touch with his feminine side right
and because of that, on his off days he'd let you do his makeup, dress him up, put him in heels
he loves it!
mostly because you're there and just you
he'd come to you so you can do his hair
like the little spikes and the straight piece of hair
" bill, wenn sie diesen teil weiter begradigen, werden sie am ende eine glatze bekommen." ( If you keep straightening this part, you will end up going bald )
" nuh-uh! das ist blöd!" ( that's stupid! )
please remember that he's 15-16 with almost no serious dating experience so he's going to do some mistakes
he forgot your anniversary one time and spent the whole night crying because he thought that you guys were gonna break up :((
you had to reassure him that everything will be fine
he LOOVES LOVES LOVES to talk about you especially in interviews
" so bill, a couple of paparazzi managed to snap this photo of you and this mysterious person, mind telling us who that is?"
" that's ( name ), my love, we were going to see that new movie that appeared! it was the perfect date!"
he takes you to all of the band's rehearsals
as well as concerts
he just never wants you to leave his sight
this boy is tremendously down bad for you
he'd do anything you ask him to no questions asked
a kind boy with a pure smile that lights up your entire world
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