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#but then they reminded me it was this movie and it has been years since I watched it so I didn't even remember there were paper planes lol
dimdiamond · 1 year
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Haddotin paperman au? 📃✈️
Dear nonnie, you asked for paperman au and I didn't make the whole movie but close enough. Enjoy!
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Also the date because I couldn't resist!
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todayisafridaynight · 6 months
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Every guy in Yakuza seems like they have enough social awkwardness for Tien to role his eyes at…
there's no feasible chance on earth any man can be more awkward than mountain man tien I'm Going To Hide From My Friends Every Other Year And Then For A Decade After Telling Them I'd Never See Them Again For No Apparent Reason And Only Coming Back Cause the World Was Literally Ending shinhan
#snap chats#i already hear someone go 'what about kiryu' girl he didnt last five years before getting involved again#jo's prob a contender tho. tbh.#anyway i just got back from the fnaf movie#first off please remind me to stop going out to places with kayla i might as well be going by myself#does not help that she walks slow as shit like bro dont make me walk this turtle-ass pace#good things came of the trip tho :) first of all im broke 🧍‍♂️ since when did movies get so expensive I DIDNT EVEN GET FOOD#i did get a kirby gacha tho :) inflation's starting to hit the gacha machines now too tho what the fuck 😭#last time it was less expensive than the time before and now this is the most exp its been......#wow its not just luck on what you pull its luck on how much money youre dropping BYE#whatever i dont need groceries anyways. really i dont i swear i did all my budgeting this month already#on the bright side i picked up 25 cents collectively today :) might as well call me a millionaire already#ANYWAY someone give me an excuse to post the new kirby he's cute and his feet are a weird color#o my god i didnt even talk about the movie wait. fuck.#watching jp movies and media has been terrible for my us viewing experience cause it just makes it so abundant how.#AUDIBLE us movies are. and the camera cuts jesus fucking christ i could turn it into a drinking game#what's my verdict tho ????? tbh i thought it was cute. im still in awe of the suits tho if anything i give the movie full props for that#heh. props. get it. fr tho i love practical effects and yk what ill take it. cupcake was goofy as hell ngl but ill take it#highkey forgot coreykenshin was in the movie so it was cute being reminded he was there :) love him..#honestly it really was a movie for fans of fnaf already and i aint gonna act like i wasnt a fan of the series in its early years#def not a movie to watch on its own- not that the plot's incomprehensible otherwise but it prob just wont hit#like matpat and corey being there was neat and the credits song took me WAAAY back to when that song first dropped on youtube LOL#sorry ive turned these tags into a fnaf movie review. kayla didnt talk about it with me so i wanted to get my thoughts out somewhere LOL#im running out of tags Anyway i solemnly swear to only talk bout movies that ft mates that star in rgg henceforth <3#im lying of course. i dont know how to shut up <3 but ill shut up rn im making dinner. movie made me hungry for bacon....
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fowlofprey · 11 months
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//once again i've been unwillingly reminded of artemis fowl 2020
how the fuck am i supposed to sleep peacefully now
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evilminji · 1 month
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Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?
They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?
And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?
Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.
Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.
He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.
But it's not.
His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".
......guys?
His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.
*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*
Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.
And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?
Are DIFFERENT.
They're all of um!
It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.
There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.
Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!
No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!
Sad. We miss it.
But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?
Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!
Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?
Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*
Clearly a demon!
He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.
Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.
Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)
Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.
People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.
Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!
Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.
So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.
Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.
He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.
Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.
@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes
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heich0e · 2 months
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the itadori house always smells faintly of clean laundry.
it's not because the two boys who live there are particularly diligent about staying on top of their housework—the towering pile of recyclables in the corner of the kitchen is proof enough of that—but it's because the first time yuuji had tried to do his own laundry, he used way too much detergent. the ensuing tsunami of soap suds had flooded nearly half-way across the tiny apartment—coating the floors, the baseboards, and anything else in its path, in a slippery (though pleasantly fragranced) froth that took DAYS for the two brothers to clean up. it must have sunk in to the floorboards, or there must still be traces of it lingering in nooks and crannies that they couldn't reach, because even now, years after the catastrophe, the scent still lingers.
even though the mere mention of the incident still makes a vein of irritation throb in sukuna's forehead, and makes yuuji hang his head in shame, you don't mind the smell. it's familiar after all these years. it reminds you of this place.
you burrow your face down into the cushion of the living room sofa. it's raining today, and a bit humid, so the scent of detergent is particularly strong.
you're nearly asleep when a voice interrupts your quiet moment of relaxation.
"i should start charging you rent, y'know."
you don't open your eyes, even once you hear the words that come from above you. even without looking, you can picture the scene: sukuna leaning over the back of the sofa that you're sprawled across, his weight resting on his elbows as he peers down at you with his usual scowl. it's not the same scowl he shows to everyone else—the one that makes people shrink back under his gaze—this is a softer version of the same expression, dulled by familiarity. if you were more optimistic you might even say it was blunted by affection.
"stop pretending to sleep, kid." you feel his hand grasp your hip, shaking you lightly. "i know you're faking."
you feel a smile threatening to pull at your lips so you turn your face towards the pillow—the one you bought for the sofa, since the itadori brothers' idea of home decor is limited to creased posters for old mafia movies nobody's ever heard of and women with their tits out taped to the wall—and you burrow down to hide your expression from view.
"you're such a nuisance," sukuna groans, and then you feel the sofa dip. you figure he's pulled himself over the back of it now, based on how you feel him kneeling overtop of you with your legs straddled between his own. you're on your belly, but you can feel him rest back on his haunches, trapping your feet underneath him as he sits. "can't you nap at your own house?"
"too tired," you finally rasp out, daring to peek at him over your shoulder.
"and i'm not?" he scoffs, lifting his hand and pushing his hair back from his face. he's still half-dressed in his work uniform—a pair of slacks from the security company he's been working at part-time for the past few weeks, and a white t-shirt that he usually wears underneath the short sleeved button down that matches the trousers. "i just worked a double—been up since 4."
he does look tired, now that you have the chance to look at him. his hair is a bit dishevelled and he's got dark circles under his eyes. sukuna always looks a bit exhausted—and has since grandpa passed away and he took on the responsibility of raising yuuji. but it's particularly noticeable right now.
"and i can't even come home and take a nap on my own couch because there's a freeloader here."
you bite the inside of your cheek, wiggling around a bit underneath him so you can lay on your back.
"charge me rent then," you parry back to his complaint, and he cocks an eyebrow at your challenge. "i want a bed though. s'only fair."
"we'll get bunkbeds for yuuji's room, then," sukuna quips.
"don't wanna bunk with yuuji," you counter again, "he snores."
sukuna pauses, staring down at you. he leans forward slowly, his hands pressing into the couch cushion on either side of your waist as he dips towards you. "only one other bedroom in this place, y'know—"
you do know. it's why you said it.
"—and i have no plans to give up my bed."
sukuna is close to you now. too close, in any other circumstance, but this is one entirely of your own creation. a circumstance that feels more like an inevitability than anything, given the tension that's been crackling between the two of you lately, ever since he rescued you that night at the bar.
"didn't ask you to give it up," you say quietly, your eyes flickering across his features until they eventually settle on his lips.
sukuna makes a little noise in the back of his throat, close to annoyance, but not quite. distinctly tortured in nature.
"you really, really are a nuisance, y'know that?"
his hands are on your hips now. not like when he'd shaken you awake—this touch is greedier, needier than that passing graze. his fingertips slip up underneath the hem of your shirt until they brush against your bare skin, and the contact makes your body flush with heat.
"yuuji's gonna be back from class soon," you murmur softly, your gaze flickering back up to sukuna's heavy-lidded eyes. his nose twitches a little in annoyance, knowing you're right.
sukuna backs away a little, his hands slipping back out from underneath your shirt.
you sit up and catch his wrist in your hand, and his eyes widen in surprise. your faces are close together now—so close you can smell the cinnamon gum on his breath. he stole a pack from you a few days ago, and clearly he's still chewing it.
you can't smell the laundry detergent anymore.
"i didn't tell you to stop," you remark lightly, leaning back so you're splayed out against the sofa once more. you stare up at him, waiting for him to process what you've said—watching the thoughts play out across his uncharacteristically shocked face. "i just meant that you should hurry up and do it already."
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thenightling · 1 year
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I am very disappointed in the people praising the censoring / editing of Roald Dahl's books.   Let me tell you a little story.   About five years ago I decided to re-visit Treasure Island.  I found an unabridged version.   I was surprised to discover that Long John Silver had a black lover.   Because the book used the term "n--ress" the mention of her was removed from many American editions of the book when I grew up.
Note: I am not saying they removed the N word.  I am saying they removed her *all together.* I didn't know Long John Silver had a love interest until I was in my thirties and read an unabridged version of the novel. It revealed so much about the story that I hadn't noticed before. 1.  That Long John Silver believed in love despite what was considered a cultural norm of the time.  He didn't care about what others considered proper and he was in love. 2.   It shows that even Robert Louis Stevenson acknowledged the existence of interracial couples and yet no movie version I can think of addressed this until the TV series Black Sails. 3. It helped remind me of the culture of the era in which Treasure Island takes place and when it was written, the stigma against interracial relationships that existed in America right into the twentieth century and in some places is still a thing. Sometimes books tell us more than just a story.   They show us how a world was once viewed.   I felt like this was an important discovery, that Long John Silver had a black lover (or wife).   And I was even a little angry that I had been robbed of this in previous readings of the book.   I think the removal of words like "Fat" and "ugly" from Roald Dahl's books does us a disservice.   It "cleans up" the past and denies a chance for us to learn some of the less pleasant aspects of the past and how and why language has changed since then.    What should be a teaching point and experience is lost in the name of sensitivity.   I felt cheated and it even felt a little racist that Long John Silver's love interest isn't mentioned in many editions of Treasure Island.  And I feel that one day there may be similar feelings if people discover they aren't reading the original versions of Dahl's books. Try to remember the original reason Ray Bradbury wrote Fahrenheit  451.  It wasn't about an evil government taking away people's blooks. It was about this group and that group getting offended at various titles until they just banned everything to try to make everyone happy.    
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Established Steddie, they have been living together for over a decade, did their best to heal their wounds from the Upside Down and learn to enjoy life again. It's not easy but they do it.
When the Lord of the Rings movies come out, it's actually Steve who suggests watching them to Eddie. He really tries engaging with Eddie's passions, but his focus is not the greatest when it comes to books. That doesn't mean he doesn't listen to Eddie ramble about them though - he knows all about hobbits, second breakfasts, the culture of smoking in the Shire...Eddie admires a lot of characters from the books, but ever since experiencing the Upside Down fuckery, he actually admits that the hobbits had a point. Good food, even better company and good tobacco? What else does one need? It also inspires Steve a few years later to prepare a full day of hobbit-inspired meals for their trilogy marathon when the extended editions come out. But this is about their first time watching the movies.
They both go to the movie theater excited. Steve is familiar with most of the characters, including Eddie's self-admitted crush on Aragorn. And Steve can see why, he can see so much good in all the members of the fellowship. After the first movie, he's wiping his eyes because Boromir deserved better. Eddie has a lot to say about what was lost in adaptation, but Steve knows Eddie loves those movies and would cut off his only remaining nipple before missing the next ones.
The Two Towers have Steve rooting for the ents and he feels strangely touched about how everyone underestimates Pippin, yet it's him who gets the ents to march. He really can't pick a favorite character. He can't wait for the third movie.
They go to the premiere of the Return of the King with Eddie. They secretly hold hands in the last row, and Steve watches the ride of the Rohirrim with bated breath. He clenches his hand in Eddie's when Theoden gets gravely injured, but then Éowyn is there and...oh.
He is staring slack-jawed at the scene. Éowyn's large, terrified eyes, the towering frame of the Witch King. Her posture was fearful, crouched, but still she faced him. And something surfaces in his head, something he's long forgotten.
He's unusually queit when they come back home, he still loves the rest of the movie, almost cries at "my friends, you bow to no one,", then definitely cries at Frodo leaving the Middle Earth. But there is still that something and Eddie can sense it. When they're falling asleep together, Eddie finally asks him. And Steve's had enough time to process what he felt.
"When Éowyn faced the Witch King...it reminded me of what it felt like. I mean, for the first time. I know it's stupid because saw so much unnatural shit, but...it's the first time that I have hard time forgetting," he admits quietly. "She reminded me of me in 1983 so much. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I thought I'd do the right thing, but then I had a gun pointed at me, they both had blood on their hands...and then it appeared."
Eddie doesn't speak, he only holds Steve closer.
"It was so tall. I remember that petal-like mouth, those teeth, but mostly...I remember the crippling fear. I felt absolutely terrified. I couldn't move. There was even a moment when I thought of running away, but...I couldn't leave them there. Seeing someone go through something similar and being praised for being a hero...it makes me think. I used to be so ashamed for freezing in that moment. For even considering running away. But Éowyn...she was like me." There's awe in his voice and warmth, relief. "She had no idea what she was getting into. She froze. She didn't do everything perfectly and gracefully like Legolas or something, but when it mattered...she did what she had to."
He holds Eddie tighter and asks, almost shyly: "Will it offend you that I think she's my favorite character? Not Aragorn or Sam?"
Eddie just shakes his head and drops a kiss to Steve's hair. "Nah. She suits you well. And you're both amazing."
And if it becomes a silly endearment in their household, that Steve is sometimes called the Shieldmaiden of Hawkins? ("I'm not a maiden, Eddie!" "I'm not calling you a shieldboy or shieldbachelor, Steve!") Then Steve feels a hint of something that he thought he'd renounced, but now, for the first time he feels it's deserved - pride.
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augustinewrites · 10 months
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“i’ve got the ice cream!” gojo announces as he steps into the apartment.
despite the urgency conveyed over his call with you, not a soul appears to greet him like the hero that he is. instead, he’s greeted by the perked ears and alert looks of four shikigami wolves lounging under the sun rays stretched across the kitchen floor.
he carefully steps over them to grab four spoons. “where are your summoners?”
your dogs tilt their heads, pretending not to understand him. megumi’s puppies don’t even bother with pretending, turning around and setting their fluffy bottoms down with a huff.
“useless animals,” he scoffs, venturing into the apartment to look for everyone. 
he eventually finds the three of you in the bedroom, you and tsumiki cuddling in bed watching some chick-flick while megumi reads in the armchair. 
“finally,” you grin when you see him, pausing the film to take the bag and spoons from his hands. “thank you.”
“what’s going on here?” he asks as you distribute ice cream pints and spoons. 
“tsumiki didn’t say “i love you” back to her boyfriend,” megumi quips, his sister throwing a pillow and a glare in his direction. 
gojo looks at you, brows furrowed, but you only send him a pleading look.
“well,” he starts, sitting on the edge of the bed. “love is a big emotion, kid. it can take a long time to develop, or sometimes you just know like that,” he says, snapping his fingers. 
“how long did it take you two to say it?” 
this time when he looks at you, you look away. you hate how much he loves this story. 
he can’t help the giddy feeling fluttering in his chest. 
“you tell her,” you mutter.
“why? you were the one who said it first. it also led to our first kiss remember?”
“and as i recall, you didn’t say you loved me back right away.” 
ah, you never fail to remind him. 
“i didn’t get the chance. you just started kissing me and tearing my clothes off. then you immediately dragged me into bed and had your way with me,” he recalls, sighing dreamily as megumi covers his ears.
“i did not kiss you first,” you argue, like you always do. “i don’t kiss on first dates!”
“you did that night.”
“no, i said that i loved you, and then you kissed me.” 
he looks at you for a moment. really looks at you. he supposes that first kiss had been over nearly ten years ago, he couldn’t really fault you for forgetting. he didn’t even remember what he’d had for breakfast this morning. 
“alright, you win,” he relents, shuffling up the bed to sit against the headboard, pulling you into his chest and kissing your temple. 
_____
his first date with you ends up being five years after he meets you. 
by then, he’d already known he loved you. hell, some deep, subconscious part of him had known since he was seventeen years old.
so, two years after he’d made a deal with your father, he asked you on a date. 
the date goes well. a nice dinner at a nice restaurant in roppongi, followed by a movie in the apartment you’d eventually move into. he’d successfully put his arm around you and leaned in to tell jokes that’d made you laugh.  
being with you has always been easy, even back then. there’s no awkwardness on your first date, just the blossoming feeling of something exciting and new growing between you.
(because you were in love with him too.)
“i should head home,” you sigh around 11pm, moving to lift your head from where it’s been laying against his shoulder. “i have lesson plans to prep for next week.”
“don’t go,” he’s quick to insist. “stay. i have two spare rooms. i already have one set up for you.”
you look at him for a moment, like you’re seeing him for the first time. “you do?”
“i wasn’t going to make you go home by yourself in the middle of the night,” he shrugs, averting his gaze and feeling shy all of a sudden. 
“i don’t have any clothes—”
“just wear something of mine.”
that was mistake number one, because when you’d come out of the bathroom wearing one of his shirts, he’s still pretty sure he’d blacked out for a second.
mistake number two was staying up late, chatting. this wasn’t uncommon for the two of you, but for some reason that night had felt…intimate. you’d had your legs in his lap, illuminated by the faint glow of the television as you chatted. 
mistake number three was helping you walk to the spare room, an arm looped around your sleepy figure as you leaned into him.
he still remembers the way his heart had been thumping loudly in his chest as you gazed up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “goodnight,” you murmured. “i love you.”
he’d stood there, blinking uselessly as he watched realization pass over your face. “satoru…”
he says your name back, suddenly terrified. he remembers how the fear seized his heart, because all at once, you’d become someone he could lose. he has a history of people leaving. whether it was by choice or not, it always hurt. he wants you so badly, but he also knows that losing you would break him. 
it must be written all over his face, these unsaid fears and hesitations that were plaguing his mind. that was when you’d stepped forward and gently cupped the sides of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. 
______
“sometimes you just know when you love someone,” you tell tsumiki, brushing some stray hairs from her face. “i don’t really know how to explain it.”
“it’s just a feeling,” gojo agrees, still looking at you. “a pretty great one, that leads to even greater things of you give it a chance.”
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neil-gaiman · 4 months
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Hello Mr Neil Gaiman, I write to say you have ruined me; again. Four times in my life I have been utterly and hopelessly rotted and ruined and consumed by your work. First was when I was 4 and first watched Coraline, I didn't even know who you were and couldn't conceive it either way back then; but I remember watching the movie so much until the disc scratched, and making my mum buy me a coraline doll and lalaloopsy dolls that reminded me of it. Then when I was 12, when season one of good omens came out, and I immediately found out it was a book (WHAT?? IT'S A BOOK?? I NEED TO READ IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-)(I read it), and it was all I could find myself speaking about for months. This year when season 2 came out, I was absolutely heartbroken, and this altered my brain in a way I had never even dreamed possible; everything clicked that the common denominator in making me go insane was *you*, so I followed you on tumblr and everywhere I could and I made it my life's mission to read more of your books. First, as soon as I could, I read The Neil Gaiman Reader in two days and it was SO GOOD (and returned it to the library as soon as I finished), and I knew instantly I had to get The Ocean At The End Of The Lane. Only trouble is, where I live has basically no books, of anyone's, ever, so I searched probably five different bookshops until I found it and I immediately got it. I wasn't allowed to read it till Christmas though. Then Christmas day came, the day I had hyped up in my head for so long, simply because I got to read this book, so in one sitting on Christmas, I read the ocean at the end of the lane. I think I have found a new obsession to occupy my brain. How do you write all of these things? How do you inspire these feelings? I feel like you have a kind of magic to you. I have spent basically the whole day since googling everything I can about this novel (and hoping, wishing and praying that the play will return and come to Western Australia some day), but now I have the VERY URGENT request of answering my questions please please please pretty please. 1) What are some things you wish people knew about The Ocean At The End Of The Lane that they don't know already? 2)What are questions that you want people to ask about it, but haven't yet? 3) Where did you get all of the magic and emotion and EVERYTHING encapsulated those pages? - Yours sincerely, an extremely obsessed high school senior.
Dear E.O.H.S.S.
I'm really happy it had that effect on you. Now we both have to hope that the National Theatre adaptation of The Ocean at the End of the Lane gets revived and makes it to Australia, because most of your questions are sort of answered in the play.
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vanteguccir · 1 month
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Always yours | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N and Chris are secretly in love, but Chris is the one that acts shy around her; OR 4 times Chris loved Y/N from afar and 1 time he didn't.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N and Nick had been inseparable since they were children, having grown up together in Boston, their bond of friendship was the strongest among all others. Nick was the type of boy who exuded energy and extroversion, while Y/N was more thoughtful and quiet, and the two of them fit together perfectly.
So, when the triplets decided to move to Los Angeles to better advance their career on YouTube, the girl went with them. Her high school years were over, and, as luck would have it, she had received her acceptance letter to the LA college she wanted to attend.
Obviously, her closeness with Nick throughout her life brought her close to Matt and Chris equally, as the three of them came as a complete package to any relationship, regardless of which trype it was.
The only difference was that with Chris, things were different. A strange and unfamiliar feeling grew more and more inside Y/N's heart whenever he was around, making her blush and stumble over her own words. It didn't take her long to realize that she was madly in love with the youngest triplet, but the fear of rejection prevented her from confessing her feelings.
What Y/N didn't know was that Chris also had deep feelings for her. However, he was also paralyzed by the fear of ruining his friendship with Y/N, or worse, destabilizing the girl's friendship with his brother if his feelings weren't reciprocated. So the two were content to flirt shyly and exchanging furtive glances and meaningful smiles that spoke volumes about their feelings.
But there was something more, something that everyone but Y/N seemed to notice. When she was around, Chris transformed completely. His posture softened, his smile became more genuine, and his eyes shone with a special tenderness reserved just for her. He became more embarrassed and cautious, as if he was afraid of messing up in front of the person he secretly loved.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
1. Shyness
The sun was beginning to peek shyly through the window curtains when Y/N woke up. She snuggled under the sheets for a moment, enjoying the feeling of comfort. With a soft yawn, the girl got up from the bed and stretched momentarily before putting on the Fresh Love hoodie that was on her gaming chair, throwing her hair up in a quick ponytail.
Y/N walked down the stairs of the floor she shared with Nick towards the kitchen, following the tempting aroma of fresh coffee and warm toast.
Inside the kitchen, Matt was talking about a movie he watched the night before, Saltburn, while Chris laughed loudly at the faces of disgust and strangeness Nick displayed at certain scenes.
"Wait, you reminded me of a TikTok I saw yesterday!" Exclaimed Chris, his eyes shining with excitement. "It was from a guy who apparently wrote a song about a girl who looks innocent but ha-"
Before he could continue, Y/N entered the room with a smile on her face.
"Good morning, boys!"
Chris's face instantly turned a bright shade of red, and he swallowed hard, abruptly stopping talking. He looked down at his plate with a sudden intensity, as if he were trying to concentrate on each bite of his food.
"Good morning, Y/N." Nick smiled, breaking the brief moment of awkward silence. Matt just nodded, chewing on the piece of toast he had in his mouth.
Y/N approached the counter behind the table, noticing the sudden discomfort in the air but choosing not to comment on it.
"What was the TikTok about, Chris?" She asked softly with her back turned to them, standing on tiptoes and opening one of the cabinets above the stove, retrieving her favorite mug.
"I... Um." He fake coughed, clearing his throat. "I think I... forgot." The last word came out in a subtle whisper.
Y/N smiled, feeling the skin of her face burn at the thought of how shy the boy became in her presence, shaking her head quickly to shake off the thoughts when Nick started talking again, bringing up another topic.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
2. Admiring from afar
The Space Camp Wellness studio was filled with vibrant energy as Nick, Chris, Matt, and Y/N prepared for yet another promotional photo shoot. Nick, as the founder of the lip balm brand, was busy adjusting the final details, while Y/N was preparing to be one of the models in that series of pictures that would be used to promote the new line.
Sitting on the other side of the room, Chris, Matt, and Nick exchanged hushed murmurs among themselves, discussing the details of what the next steps for Nick's brand would be. However, to Chris, the sounds seemed distant, completely muffled to his ears.
His eyes remained fixed on the girl, watching every movement she made as she changed her positions. He couldn't shake the feeling that the whole world seemed brighter when she was around, his heart beating wildly against his chest.
"Chris, you're drooling again." Matt teased, giving the boy a playful poke in the shoulder.
Chris blinked, brought back to reality by his words. He blushed slightly, embarrassed at being caught.
"Shut the fuck up, I'm not drooling." He barked back, trying to hide his flushed state.
"Oh, come on, Chris. Everyone knows you're head over heels in love with Y/N." Nick laughed loudly, exchanging knowing glances with Matt.
Chris squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a suitable response to his brothers' teasing. He knew he couldn't deny his feelings for Y/N, but he also didn't want to make the situation more awkward than it already was.
"You two are ridiculous." He grumbled, looking at Y/N again.
His eyes widened when he saw her already watching them, her gaze carrying a curiosity as to why they were laughing so loud - not that it was something strange coming from the brothers.
The brunette quickly turned his neck to the side, focusing his eyes on a random place while scratching his stubble, gulping loudly.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
3. Acts of service
The frigid air of Boston circulated Y/N as she walked alongside the triplets, enveloped by the welcoming atmosphere of their hometown. The night was particularly cold, with a biting breeze that made everyone shrink into themselves for warmth.
"Oh my God, it's so cold!" Y/N commented, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them a little.
Chris, who was next to her on the outside of the sidewalk, immediately noticed her cheeks flushed by the wind. He frowned, feeling a tightening of concern in his chest when he saw her body shaking slightly, being covered only by a long-sleeved blouse and thin leggings.
"Here." The boy said, taking off his hockey jersey and offering it to her. "You can use this to protect yourself from the cold."
Y/N widened her eyes in surprise, stopping her steps abruptly.
"But what about you, Chris? You're going to be cold-" Chris shook his head, cutting her off.
"Don't worry about me. I can handle the cold better than you can. Besides, you need to stay warm or you will cath the flu."
Finally convinced, but still reluctant, Y/N accepted the jersey, feeling the comforting warmth that emanated from the fabric as she took it in her hands. She smiled wide at Chris, slipping it over her shoulders, his Dior parfume automatically filling her nostrils, warming her heart.
Chris watched in silence as Y/N wrapped herself in his jersey, name and number clearly visible on her back, lightly covered by the strands of her loose hair. An intense blush took over his cheeks, a feeling of heat different from the cold taking over his body.
He felt his heart speed up to a thousand miles per hour, pressing his lips into a thin line to stop the involuntary smile.
"It looks good on you. Better than on me."
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
4. Distraction
The kitchen of the triplets' house was full of energy as the brothers prepared to record another Wednesday video for their YouTube channel. Nick adjusted the camera and arranged the equipment while Chris and Matt arranged themselves in the two chairs behind the wooden table, facing the tripod.
Chris, especially, was beaming with enthusiasm, his words flowing with energy as he addressed the camera after Nick positioned himself behind the two, giving the go-ahead to begin recording.
"What's up, guys? Welcome back to our YouTube channel! Today, we have a-"
He was in the middle of introducing the theme when Y/N passed through the divide between the living room and kitchen, her hands holding her phone and her eyes fixed on the screen, heading towards the stairs that led to her shared floor with Nick.
Chris's gaze instinctively shifted towards her, his heart racing almost automatically as his pupils seemed to take the shape of a little heart, his eyes following her every step and his mouth opening slightly.
His brothers, noticing Chris's sudden distraction, began laughing, teasing him as he struggled to regain focus.
"Wow, Chris, I think someone's a little distracted." Matt, who was sitting next to him, joked, receiving a hard slap on the shoulder in response.
Chris blushed a red hue, embarrassed at being caught. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide his state as he tried to remember what he was about to say.
"Hm..." He cleared his throat, still a little disconcerted. "Where did I stop?"
Nick laughed louder, stumbling back and slamming his back against the stove, cursing loudly as he tried to steady his balance.
"You were talking about the challenge we're going to do today, but I think you were more interested in keeping up with Y/N ​​than recording the video." Matt scoffed, smirking to the lens.
Chris shook his head, adjusting the cap over his hair in an act of nervousness, his mind still a little clouded by the sight of Y/N.
Needless to say, he got almost every picture of the challenge wrong, his mind replaying the image of the girl he loved over and over for the rest of the day.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
5. When he finally makes a move
The night silently enveloped the house, as Chris found himself lost in his own thoughts, his body lying flat on his bed and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He knew it was time to finally confront his feelings for Y/N and express the love he had been secretly holding onto for so long. However, he was feeling completely lost on how to do it.
With his heart beating wildly in his chest, the boy decided to seek advice from Matt. His brother always knew what to say. Chris walked quickly up the stairs, going to Matt's bedroom door, knocking gently with his closed fist against the wood before turning the handle, opening it.
"Matt?" He asked, his voice slightly shaking with anxiety as his eyes darted around the room, quickly finding the boy in his gaming chair, playing something on his computer. "Can I talk to you?"
Matt looked up, frowning in concern when he noticed the boy's distressed eyes.
"Of course, did something happen?"
Chris entered the room, closing the door behind him and walking over to the bed, sitting on the edge in front of his computer desk.
"Nothing happened, I just... need some advice." Chris began, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment at being so vulnerable. "I've finally accepted that I love Y/N, but I don't know how to tell her... I'm scared of ruining everything, Matt."
Matt smiled slightly, taking the headphones off his head and placing it on the keyboard before moving the chair so that he was facing Chris.
"Why don't you write her a letter?" Matt shrugged, crossing his arms and watching his reactions.
"A letter? Isn't that too old-fashioned?" The youngest frowned, pushing his bangs back with his right hand, expanding his vision.
"With every girl you've ever been with, you've always been direct, unrestricted, and unromantic. But with Y/N ​​it's different, right?"
"She's not just another one, Matt." Chris rolled his eyes, feeling disgusted as he remembered all the times that he tried to erase his feelings for Y/N.
"Exactly, so treat her like she isn't, be romantic and different, surprise her."
It took days for Chris to finally have the courage to open his heart in a letter. He wasn't used to revealing his feelings often, so writing them down on paper was harder than it seemed. But the day finally arrived, and surprisingly, it didn't take more than an hour for Chris to finish his words.
The brunette spent the rest of that day wandering around his room while carrying the letter hidden in the front pocket of his hoodie, looking for the ideal moment to give it to Y/N.
His courage to hand it to her face to face was almost non-existent, and that's why he used the only moment when the girl moved from her room to Nick's. With shaking hands, he placed the letter on Y/N's bed, leaving it in a place where she would certainly find it.
One last look at it, and Chris turned abruptly, running back to his own room with his face flushed with shyness and anxiety.
Meanwhile, Y/N returned to her room, unaware of the surprise that awaited her. Her heart beat with strange anticipation as she approached, immediately noticing the letter carefully left there.
Hesitantly, Y/N took it, feeling the weight of the paper in her hands. She took a deep breath before opening it, her eyes widening comically as she recognized the handwriting, her eyes running quickly through the words with a mix of surprise and excitement.
As she read Chris's passionate declaration, Y/N's heart seemed to expand in her chest, overflowing with all the best feelings.
To my Y/N,
I am completely sure that I have loved you since the moment I understood the meaning of the word love. I remember the day I noticed that I felt something different about you; we were 14 years old and you showed up at our house to spend the day with Nick, and as soon as you saw me, you smiled the most beautiful and wide smile I've ever seen, taking away all my breath.
Whenever I go to sleep I think about you and, maybe, an us, wondering if you feel the same. And whenever I wake up, I can only imagine what it would be like to have you on the other side of the bed, forever in my arms.
What would it be like to have you? This probably sounds cliché and ridiculous, but I created a whole imagination of what it would be like, and I know it would be a dream come true.
And I tried so hard to resist it, out of pure fear and cowardice of losing you and your company, but resisting you became my most difficult task.
Everything about you makes me feel more alive and lighter. The sound of your voice seems to silence all the noise in my head, and your smile erases all the bad smoke in the world around me. And suddenly there's only you.
If you gave me the chance, I would make you feel everything and much more than you already made me feel.
Say the word and I'll be your yours.
Always,
Chris.
Y/N remained static for long minutes, letting the magnitude of what she had just read sink into her heart and mind. She felt her fingertips numb and her heart racing so much that she was almost sure it would jump out of her chest and run to wherever Chris was.
And then, with renewed determination, the girl got up from her bed, running downstairs towards Chris's room, goosebumps rising through her body in anticipation.
Upon arriving at the door of the room she dreamed of being able to live in one day, Y/N raised her closed fist, knocking it against the wood with nervousness, anxiously waiting for an answer.
When Chris opened it, their eyes met in a moment of pure connection, and Y/N knew it was the right thing to do.
"Chris." She began, her voice soft but shaky. "I love you too."
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
888 notes · View notes
cutecatlov3r · 9 months
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my character ai bots:
jjk:
gojo satoru:
his eyes r funny looking- now, you were laughing your ass off due to the fact that he took off his blindfold during a mission with a curse. you couldn’t help but laugh because he looked so stupidly serious.
wardrobe malfunction- as you walked out he stifled a laugh. “what the hell are ya wearin’?”
he’s annoying- he is so annoying. even in highschool he was unbearable to be around. you hated his annoying ass. but he loved being around you.
vampire au- “oh? the little princess is out of her kingdom? wanted to see me huh?” he teased, looking at her as she hangs upside down.
can’t get enough of him- you and gojo have been on and off since highschool. it’s like everytime you both break up you both just can’t get enough of each other…
your affair- even if you were married he still didn’t care. his feelings for you are deep. he loves you. no matter how many times you tell him you have to stop the little affair going on between you two, he simply doesn’t care
geto suguru:
dad’s best friend- “gonna be quiet like a good girl? or show your dad that you’re just a very bad girl?” he whispered in your ear. his voice deep and quiet, sending chills down your spine.
nanami kento:
healing ur daddy issues- “how’s my baby girl doing today hm?” he pat his lap, gently. “come here, sit.”
yu haibara:
he’s gone- “i’ll be back! don’t miss me too much!” he cheekily smiled. that damn smile… that would be the last time you’d ever see it again.
he’s sick- he coughs and pouts as he lays in his dorm room bed. he was squirming around, sweating and throwing his covers off him. he was currently sick, he was missing a mission that he wanted to go on so badly
he admires you- you disliked him because he followed you around like a lost puppy… he admired you, an upperclassman.
yuji itadori:
he’s delulu- meeting Itadori you didn’t expect him to be so clingy and so sweet to you. little did you know he has a huge crush on you, he is a bit obsessive but he doesn’t let you know that.
your parents hate him- the thing about him is that he is sometimes a bit dumb? he just doesn’t seem like a professional person so when your parents met him, they didn’t like him at all. but that never stopped you from loving him or the other way around
dorky best friend- currently though the two of you were on a mission, sharing a hotel room. he was in a white robe, swirling a glass of wine being dramatic. it was his first time wearing a robe and he wanted to be fancy, be in the moment like a dork.
shibuya arc- “im nothing but a murderer! i can’t forgive myself!” he cried. you stood there looking down at him. sukuna only took over his body for a minute and a lot things happened.
best boyfriend- currently, he was resting between your thighs as you both watch a movie, he used his arms to squish himself against his face some more. “i wouldn’t mind dying from suffocation if it’s with these”
gossiping w him- “HUH?! i need to hear about this, spill everything.” he said in a dramatic tone, joking.
captain of the football team-“hey, you comin’ to my game tonight? last one of the season, I need my lucky charm there to cheer for me.” he giggled, turning you around to face him, your back pressed against your locker.
older brother’s best friend- you were drunk off your ass at some party. yuji spotted you and immediately got on his feet to help you as you stumbled around. “are you okay? megumi is gonna kill you… I’ll get you home”
your his mentor- haibara and yuji had so many similarities. it hurt you to just look at yuji’s smile, being reminded of haibara who died back in your teenage years
he’s in love w you but you already have a boyfriend- yuji is no homewrecker but… currently you’ve stumbled on top of him while training him… he can’t help but think about how Yuta doesn’t deserve you. how Yuta is connected to the woman you used to be.
megumi fushiguro:
step brother- “tch. what the hell are you looking at?” he asked, scaring a guy that had his eyes on you.
yuta okkotsu:
he chose geto’s side- the day he met Geto he was nervous. Geto explained why he wants to kill everyone who isn’t a sorcerer. at the time he declined the offer to join him but later on he rethought his decision. he thought about his past. he left with Geto.
he likes when you hurt him- the two of you brawled for a bit, ending up with your knee on his back, pinning him down. one hand gripping his hair, the other hand pinning down his hand.
your a fan- gojo-sensei took you with him to greet the sorcerer that you’ve heard so much about. he was coming back from training abroad in Africa. you were excited.
helping the newbie- “hey not to be rude but do you not like me…? i feel the tension between us…” he mumbled, frowning slightly.
your other half- right now you both were walking together. he had something important to tell you, he was gonna be training in Africa in a few weeks. gojo-sensei told him he should tell you but he’s just been nervous
inumaki toge:
hajime kashimo:
noritoshi kamo:
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guys I will be adding more soon, please leave some suggestions tho ! <3
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azsazz · 2 months
Text
Midnight Muse (Part 23)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3,470
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Masterlist]
_________________________________________
“So…” Feyre trails off and your gaze slides to hers in the mirror from where you’re brushing on blush. Your first date with Azriel is tonight and you haven't been able to focus on anything all day. “You and Azriel?”
“Yeah,” you respond softly, trying to fight the smile that’s tugging at your lips. She already knows the news since she’d come back home this morning with Rhys in tow, trying to get you to come out for breakfast with them. When they saw Azriel padding out of your room shirtless, her jaw almost hit the floor. She was sputtering like a child and her boyfriend helped her get her bearings, violet eyes glittering as he grinned at Azriel. You had shrugged at each other as Rhysand guided Feyre back out the door with a cheerful goodbye. “Azriel and I.” Her brown brows are still furrowed and you don’t like that look, swiveling around in the mirror to face her. “Is it that crazy of a concept? I feel like this kind of thing happens all of the time.”
“In movies,” Cassian pipes up, exclaiming. He’s sitting on your bed next to your best friend, having invited himself over an hour ago.
You eye him. “What are you doing here again, Cass? Shouldn’t you be hyping Az up or something?”
“Nah, he has Rhys for that,” he winks over at Feyre who only raises her eyebrows in response. “I’m here because I’m seeing you off tonight.”
“You’re not my dad,” you scoff, fishing in your makeup bag for your mascara.
“But I’d let you call me that anytime, (Y/N),” he jokes and you shake your head fondly at him. 
“I’m sure Azriel is going to love to hear that you’ve been flirting again.” 
Cassian hugs one of your pillows to his chest, flipping through a book that you left on the table beside your bed. You wonder if he’ll find the page Azriel bookmarked for you when he’d been flipping through it, saying he’d slipped in a cheeky note for you to find along with the naughty  passage. “He knows what I’m about. And if he feels threatened, that’s on him. I can just remind him of all of the times he used to—” The ringing of his phone cuts off his sentence and he slides it from his pocket, checking the caller before answering, murmuring a quiet hello down the line.
He frowns and you cock your head, watching intently. It’s not a face you think you’ve ever seen Cassian do seriously, and the way that his body tenses, you wonder who could be on the other line. 
“Yeah, I’m on my way,” he says finally, hanging up the phone and springing up from your bed. He tosses the pillow back to the head of the bed and strides towards the door, a concerning pull to his eyebrows that has Feyre calling out to him as he makes for the door.
“Everything okay, Cassian?” 
“I, uh—yeah, everything’s fine. I have to go,” he says but his mind is already in another place. “See you later.”
You and Feyre share a look in the mirror.
“So much for seeing me off.” 
She grins at you, sliding off of your bed to join you in front of the mirror. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do that.”
“Thanks,” you laugh, capping the mascara and putting it away. Leaning back a little, you admire your makeup in the mirror. “So, how are you and Rhys doing?” 
You feel like you haven’t spent much time with Feyre lately, with her busy with her boyfriend and you busy with yours. Your boyfriend, the words have you giddy. You and Azriel are officially a couple now and everything feels right. There are no more late nights spent trying to get him to shut his music off or glaring at him when his eyes wander your way. Now, your nights are spent talking and kissing and touching. Lots and lots of touching.
Your heart stutters happily in your chest. 
Feyre sighs dreamily. “He’s so great. I’m really glad we decided to move here this year, (Y/N).” 
“Me too,” you grin stupidly at her and the both of you break out in giggles. “Fey, will you help me pick out some jewelry?”
Azriel told you to dress casually, something with jeans because somehow he convinced you to get back on that death-trap he holds so dear to his heart. It’s a sunny afternoon out, no clouds in sight, and it eases you slightly that you won’t have to ride it in the rain again, no matter how much you enjoyed being pressed up against him.
Now that you’re Azriel’s girlfriend, you’re free to press up against him whenever you want. 
Naked, too.
“Here,” she says, hooking a necklace around your neck. She clasps it for you and you can’t help but stare at the blue gem that sits at the base of your neck, glittering in the light. It looks good, you think. 
“Is it weird to be nervous?” you ask, playing with the pendent. “We’ve already had sex but I’m still feel all jittery.”
“Being nervous is completely normal,” Feyre answers, patting you on the shoulder. “You have to promise to tell me all about it when you get home.”
“I will,” you shoo her playfully, “I promise.” 
You and Feyre chat lightly as you wait and it helps ease your nerves a little. She tells you about how excited she is about Halloween and asks if you think the both of you could convince the three boys next door to do a group costume with you. Cassian’s already been bragging about the insane pre-game party he throws every year before a night out at the bars, and you know you can easily get him on board. 
A knock at the door sends your nerves skyrocketing again. You smooth down your shirt as Feyre rounds the corner to open the door, crossing her arms over her chest like a stern mother meeting her daughter's boyfriend for the first time.
She squeals when the door swings open to Rhysand on the other side. He laughs, sweeping her into his arms and guiding her backwards in his hug. 
Your breath leaves your body at the sight of Azriel. He looks effortlessly handsome, his hair fingered through with a little gel even though he knows it’s going to be messed up from his helmet. His golden eyes gleam, crinkling at the corners with a smile when he catches your gaze.
He’s dressed in a simple black t-shirt but wears his leather jacket over it, the same one he had wrapped around your shoulders that night you spent in the rain. It’s pulled tight across his shoulders but he doesn’t seem to mind because the worn leather is comfortable.
Of course, he has his dark jeans on, and you catch his riding gloves peeking out of his pocket. 
You move to him like a moth to a flame, eagerly accepting the kiss he bends down to give you.
“You look amazing,” he breathes against your lips, never able to part from you. Never wanting to part from you.
“Thank you, you look very handsome,” you compliment, holding him close by the flaps of his jacket. 
“Ready to go?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, turning to say goodbye to Feyre and Rhys, who has his arms wrapped around her as they watch the two of you, grinning like fools.
“Where’s Cassian?” Rhysand asks, looking around the room. “I figured he’d be all up in Azriel’s business right now, playing the part.”
Feyre shrugs, answering. “We don’t know. He got a phone call and left right after.” Azriel and Rhys share a look that you can’t make out before Feyre’s continuing, sternly, “Don’t keep her out too late.” She points a finger at Azriel. He looks like he’s trying his best to stop himself from rolling his eyes and you stifle your laugh in the crook of your arm.
“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, “See ya, Rhysie. Don’t have sex too loud tonight. Or on the couch.” 
Rhysand only smirks in response. “Why? Is it your turn?” 
Feyre smacks his chest and you drag Azriel out of the apartment before she can go at her boyfriend for that joke. You’ve all heard worse before from Cassian, so the quip rolls off of your shoulders easily…aaaand now you’re thinking about fucking Azriel on the couch.
“If we fuck on any couch, it’s going to be yours,” you comment as you step onto the elevator with him. Their couch is both bigger and comfier. You wouldn’t let Azriel suffer on your cheap, navy couch that you and Feyre got for a bargain.
“Fantasizing about fucking me on my couch, princess?” Azriel hums, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. The elevator feels almost stifling with the heat between you two, his eyes glittering with interest. “We can definitely make that fantasy come true. Do you have any others I should know about?” 
“No,” you answer all too quickly, and you try not to think too hard about the intrigue that flares in his gold eyes. “How about you?” you aim the question back at Azriel as the elevator comes to a stop on the first floor, doors creaking open slowly.
You can feel his gaze on your face as he studies you, and he doesn’t answer until you’ve left the building, Azriel holding the door open for you. “No,” he answers, but you know it’s a lie. 
It sparks interest in you, and when you cut him a glance from the corner of your eye, he’s smirking. 
Two can play at this game, apparently. 
Azriel shrugs out of his jacket and you’re taken back to the night when he’d given you a ride home in the storm as he helps you into it, admiring you in the loved leather before he tugs you closer. The smell of him is intoxicating to your senses and you don’t even care that the soon to be setting sun is warmer than usual because being encompassed in his jacket makes your heart flutter. 
You’re pressed all up against his front and Azriel can’t help himself but to grin along with you, dipping his head down for one more kiss. He chuckles as your lips chase his, pressing up into him on your tiptoes to follow. Azriel plucks one of the helmets strapped to the back of his motorcycle and helps you into it with the promises of more kisses to follow throughout the night.
You have to squeeze your thighs together when he shoves his own helmet over that dark hair of his. He looks hot as fuck standing there with his tattoos on display, peeking out from under the sleeves of his shirt and creeping up his neck. Said t-shirt clings tightly to his chest as if he’s worn it because he knows what it does to you, and you follow the lines down his long body to his tight waist.
“Earth to princess,” Azriel calls, rapping on your helmet with his knuckles. You startle from your ogling, glaring up at him. The crinkles around his eyes and the shaking of his shoulders are clear signs of his amusement, and you can’t resist that blush that stains your cheeks. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you answer, but it’s a bit muffled from the helmet. Azriel helps you on his bike and when you’re settled behind him, he takes your hands and pulls them tight around his waist. 
“Hold on tight,” Azriel reminds you and your heart picks up its pace at both the proximity of your boyfriend and the fact that you’ve somehow allowed him to talk you into getting on the damned thing again. You tighten your thighs around his waist, wiggling even closer to him to make sure you’ve got a firm hold, and he groans like a man shot. “You keep grinding up against me like that, princess, and we’re going to go right back upstairs to that couch.” 
That doesn’t sound so bad, you think. You don’t have to endure a nerve-wracking ride on the motorcycle where all you’ll be able to think about is how much your body might slide if you fall and you’d get to see Azriel’s pretty dick.
As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Azriel takes off without another warning. You squeak softly, squeezing your eyes shut tight as he pulls away from the building. 
You’re pretty sure he can feel the pounding of your heart against his back because at the first stop sign his hands come down to trace the length of your thighs, reassuring you with his touch. It helps settle you some, enough to peek your eyes open and watch the houses pass you by.
At some point in the ride, you actually find yourself enjoying it, muscles relaxing but your body still pressed in tightly to Azriel. You’re enjoying the feeling of the wind on your skin, pulling at your clothes and the feeling of Azriel’s warmth seeping through your front. You can understand how he feels so at ease like this, like a bat swooping through the night sky.
You arrive a few towns over where Azriel parks against a curb. It’s an artsy looking town, murals covering the sides of brick buildings, colorful storefronts calling to you left and right. The streets are bright from the streetlights and filled with laughter and a positive aura that stirs excitement in you, even more so when Azriel takes your hand.
“You okay?” He asks, a touch of concern flushing through those golden eyes. “The ride wasn’t too rough, was it?” 
You shake your head, smirking up at him. “I’ve had rougher.” 
He snorts, tugging you into him for a hug because your body pressed all hot up against his wasn’t enough. Azriel walks you down a block and down a pair of stairs. The walls are filled with graffiti and you look around in wonder while Azriel checks in with the young looking boy behind the counter. 
He finds you, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed as you try and discern the oddly shaped letters painted on the wall before you. You have no idea what the word is supposed to say, it’s bright red coloring stark against the deep teal wall it’s painted on.
“Here you go.” Azriel hands you coveralls and you scrunch your face in confusion. He has his own pair, a deep navy, and in his free hand he holds two respirators. 
“What’s all this for?” you ask, examining the beige jumpsuit he’s handed you. It’s clean and fresh, so you won’t complain.
“We’re spray painting,” Azriel answers almost sheepishly. At his tentative tone you look up, and you nearly grin. His cheeks are filled with warmth and you think this is the closest you’ve ever seen him to bashful. 
“We are?” you ask, eager all of a sudden. You know it’s something Azriel said that he, Rhysand, and Cassian have fooled around with, and you’ve always enjoyed seeing the many tags and artwork created on buildings and trains. You even researched Bansky for one of your high school papers, finding his reasoning behind his works vastly intriguing, but you’ve never tried the medium yourself. “This is going to be fun!”
Azriel’s shoulders droop in relief. He hadn’t been one hundred percent confident in this choice for a date, but he thought dinner at a restaurant wouldn’t be enough to impress you and that going to see a movie was much too cliche.
He smiles softly, reveling in the excitement in your eyes. “I think so too.” 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“Where do you get your inspiration from?” you ask Azriel, voice sounding muffled through the mask as you watch him paint a long, black line down the wall. The fan’s in the room are loud so you have to shout. You’d seemed nervous when you stepped into the room, cans of spray paint littered around the floor, the walls filled with intimidating artwork that you hardly had the heart to paint over, but now you’re most definitely enjoying yourself.
Azriel had been a reassurance from the get-go, explaining that everyone who booked time here comes in knowing that whatever they paint is going to be gone when the next guests arrive, so there’s no pressure to put on yourself, only to have fun.
And it is fun, getting a feeling for the can in your hand, how hard to press, how far to hold the can from the wall. Azriel showed you some techniques, guiding your hands in different motions to create perfect circles, to get the paint drips you were eyeing from someone else’s work. The only complaint you have about this date is that the masks make it difficult to kiss Azriel, who you’ve wanted to jump since he’d pressed his body flush against yours when showing you how to paint funky letters, his other hand a solid weight on your hip. 
You’ve been in awe of him all night, sneaking looks over your shoulder at what he was painting; a skeleton stallion with a skeleton riding it, sword raised as if leading an army of the dead into war. He’s skilled in many mediums and your heart aches as you wonder how it’s possible that he hasn’t been able to receive an apprenticeship yet.
Something stings in your chest. The way that Azriel draws, paints, tattoos…there’s a confidence there that you’re envious of. Every spray he makes seems so sure, so well laid it’s like he can see the end result as he’s working. You yearn to feel like that.
“What do you mean?” he asks, eyes flicking to yours for a moment before returning to his work, letting you know that you have his full attention. You’re in the midst of painting the skeleton horse's eyes a bright neon green, whispers of black shadows swimming from its nostrils.
You sigh, abandoning your can of paint and wiping the remnants of the pigment on your coveralls. “All this time I’ve known that I want to be in art, that I want to do something with it, but everytime I make something, it never feels good enough. Like I’m not as proud of it as I should be. I don’t have a style like you or Feyre do, and, if I do, I haven’t noticed it yet.”
Azriel fully stops what he’s doing and turns to you. His hand comes up to caress your jaw, tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes are soft with concern and there’s a wrinkle between his brow that makes you want to reach up and smooth it out, suddenly embarrassed that you’ve brought this up during your perfectly good date.
“Is that how you feel?” he asks, and you shrug shyly. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all, but it’s been something that eats at you, day by day. “It sounds like you’re missing a muse, princess.” 
You frown. “A what?” 
“A muse,” Azriel repeats simply. “Something that inspires you.” 
Something that inspires you. You toss the words around in your head, thinking. Surely, you find things inspiring. You wrack your brain trying to come up with something, something that keeps you captivated, gives you the urge to put your pencils to your paper and create something beautiful…but there’s nothing. 
“So, you’re saying you inspire yourself?” you tease, thinking back to his exhibition. You tease, because if you don’t laugh, you might cry. You can see the glint of amusement in his eyes, and you continue your soft jab. “How very narcissistic of you, Az.” 
Azriel rolls his eyes and before you can joke further, he’s lifting his can of spray paint and marking you with a big heart across the entire front of your coveralls. Your mouth drops open in shock but his smirk makes the feeling roll right between your thighs. 
“I believe that muses have the ability to change,” he answers your earlier question. He’s staring down at you intently, and maybe he’s waiting for you to pick up a can and retaliate. Or maybe he’s thinking exactly what you’re thinking: trying to find someplace to tear each other's clothes off. 
“Oh, yeah?” you ask defiantly. You want to cross your arms over your chest but you don’t want to ruin his work. It feels like you’ve been branded by him, claimed by his artistic talent, and something flares within you at the very idea. “What’s your muse now?” 
Azriel doesn’t answer but he doesn’t need to. The way he seems to be devouring you with his eyes tells you all you need to know about who his current muse is.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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stylesispunk · 2 months
Text
"Where is my love?"
Joel miller x f! reader
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summary: Isn't she coming to me?
w.c: 7k>
warning: angst, mentions of death, and grief.
a/n: this is a sad one and closer to my heart because grieving is the love we can give to people who are gone. The only change of this is that has been ten years since the "end of the world" and is based on the last chapter of the show. reblogs and comments are always appreciated and for the love of god, can you please help me with inspo for writing, I want to write for other characters, so if you have any suggestions are welcome. Have a lovely reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika
masterlist
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Your paths crossed a long time ago. When the world had descended into madness, the souls met the dead in a now forgotten land. He came across you, and he fell in love with you. The sunlight radiating after the freezing storm was a fire keeping his brittle heart warm.
You had saved him from ending his own life that day, when he had lost faith in a horror movie without an ending or a purpose. He did lose everything he had known—everything he had ever loved and protected—but he had met you.
For him, you were an angel, not delicate nor free from sins, but an angel who appeared after he thought he had met his spirit in heaven.
You have looked after him and Tommy for days, taking care of their well-being and taking care of the reminiscing scar plastered on Joel’s forehead as a reminder of his almost-death encounter with his angel, you.
And you had loved him ever since; you found yourself increasingly drawn to him, not just for his vulnerability under your eyes but because he had brought sense back to life. His presence seemed to chase away the shadows that had been going to hunt you since now.
As the days turned into weeks, months, and then years, the bond between you and Joel only grew stronger. You found yourself drawn to his strength, his resilience in the face of adversity, and the way he faced each day with unwavering determination.
You had loved him after acknowledging every terrible thing he had done, and you loved him anyway. The darkness inside of him, taunted by the loss of the previous time, didn’t prevent you from looking at him as if he hung the stars of the sky. You both looked at night before sleeping, trying to find some reassurance.
Together, you faced the challenges, from the first days of the end of the world to the QZ, to Ellie, to where you were right now, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.
Now, here in Jackson, in the quiet moment before sleep, you and Joel would still gaze up at the stars, finding solace in the vastness of the night sky. And as you held each other close, you found reassurance in the knowledge that no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.
Joel broke the silence, his voice soft yet filled with the weight of years gone by. "You know, I never thought I'd find this kind of peace again. Not after everything that's happened."
You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the darkness. "We've been through hell and back, Love. But somehow, we made it together."
He reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking the comfort your touch brought to him. "I don't know what I would do without you," he admitted, his voice breaking a little.
"You don't have to find out," you replied, a gentle smile playing on your lips. "We're in this together, remember? No matter what."
Joel nodded, his gaze returning to the heavens above. "Yeah, together," he echoed, as if trying to convince himself of the truth of those words.
"You will never lose me,” you whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. "And I'll always be here to guide you home."
He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of your lips over his skin. "I love you," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of pain and longing.
"I love you too," you replied, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you.
Being in Jackson brought you back to a civilization, to peace, to a place where you could both sleep next to each other at the same time without fearing other people coming for you.
But as much as you cherished the peace and stability that Jackson provided, you couldn't escape the reality of everyday life. With it came the mundane challenges, the petty conflicts, and the occasional tension that threatened to disrupt the tranquility you had found together. There were disagreements, misunderstandings, and moments of frustration that tested the strength of your relationship.
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You felt a rush of joy as you entered the door of your Jackson home. You couldn't wait to tell Joel about the trade you had made, so you were looking forward to seeing his reaction.
"Joel," you called out, your voice full of anticipation as you approached the living room where he was sitting. "Guess what? "I made a trade today."
Joel looked up from his book, interest in his eyes. "A trade?" "What did you get?"
You smiled, holding out the little camera you'd traded for some extra food supplies. "I exchanged some of our extra coffee for this camera! It's in excellent condition, and I thought we might use it to save some memories."
As you proudly showed the camera, Joel's initial curiosity turned into an unhappy face. He set down his book and looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and stress.
"You traded all of our extra coffee for a camera?" Joel repeated, his voice filled with frustration. "We rely on that coffee, you understand. It's not simply an extravagance; it's a product in high demand here in Jackson."
You faltered, understanding the potential repercussions of your impulsive trade. "I know, Joel, but I thought..."
"You thought what?" Joel interjected, his irritation growing. "That a camera was more important than having enough food to get us through the winter? "What if something happens and we need that coffee?"
You bit your lip, feeling a sense of remorse rush over you. "I didn't think of it that way. I just thought it would be wonderful to have something to save our memories."
Joel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I understand, but we must prioritize our needs before our wants. You cannot go out there and make bad decisions."
His words hurt, and you felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You didn't plan to compromise your safety, but in your excitement, you forgot to consider the repercussions of your actions.
"I'm sorry, Joel," you said quietly, feeling a sensation of shame rush over you. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."
Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being this childish," he murmured, strolling past you to the kitchen and leaving you in
Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being so childish," he replied, walking past you to the kitchen and leaving you in the living room with a bitter taste in your mouth.
A wave of guilt swept over you. You didn't mean to act impulsively or selfishly, but you now see that your actions had far-reaching implications.
Feeling the weight of Joel's disappointment, you remained in the living room, staring at the camera in your hands, your heart heavy. You realized he was correct; you needed to be more responsible and more aware of the circumstances and the actions that could affect your survival; being at peace in a place did not imply the risk had passed.
With a heavy sigh, you lay the camera down on the table, the excitement you had felt earlier replaced with a sense of regret. Joel's words lingered in your head, reminding you of the excitement you had felt earlier, replaced by a sense of remorse. Joel's words echoed in your mind, a reminder of the need to grow and learn from your mistakes.
You walked upstairs to your room, and with a heavy heart, you lay in bed, the events of the day on your mind. Despite the comfort of the blankets that surrounded you, you couldn't shake the sense of remorse and sorrow that persisted within you.
You closed your eyes and replayed the conversation with Joel in your head, each word stinging like a sharp reminder of your failure. You knew you'd let him down, and the thought gnawed at you, leaving a bad taste in your mouth.
And as you drifted off to sleep, the weight of Joel's disappointment gradually began to lighten. A few hours later, you awoke to the faint click of a camera shutter. Blinking sleepily, you opened your eyes to see Joel standing by the bedside, a tiny smile on his lips as he held the camera.
"What are you doing?" you said, your voice still laced with sleepiness.
Joel chuckled and lowered his camera as he neared the bed. "Just capturing a moment," he said, his eyes filled with adoration as he glanced down at you. In confusion, you furrowed your brow and sat up slightly in bed. "A moment of me sleeping?" you asked, feeling both amused and fascinated.
Joel nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yes, a second while you sleep. You looked beautiful; I couldn’t resist."
Despite the lingering anger from earlier, Joel's gesture made you feel warm. It was a modest act, but it showed a lot about his remorse and faith in your relationship. Reaching out, you took the camera from Joel's hands, studying the image of yourself sleeping soundly.
"I look horrible," you muttered. Joel softened his smile and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "Liar," he muttered. "Sorry for how I acted earlier." He moved forward, pressing his lips against your cheek this time.
"You're just an old, grumpy man," you remember, with a tiny giggle. His soft kisses eased the tension between you. His amusing response lightened the mood and lifted the sadness that had been in your heart.
"Old grumpy man, huh?" Joel chuckled, shaking his head in mock indignation. “I’ll show you what this old, grumpy man can do,” he said, planting a more urgent kiss on your lips this time.
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You worked hard in the weeks following your fight with Joel to repair the distance that had grown between you. Despite the apparent signs of peacemaking, you still had a persistent sense of insecurity.
Then a new woman arrived in Jackson. She was closer to Joel's age, and you couldn't help but notice the easy connection that had developed between them. They spent a lot of time together, whether on patrol with Tommy or speaking in the common areas of Jackson.
You tried to ignore the jealousy that was bubbling up inside of you. After all, Joel had always been polite and accommodating to strangers, so there was no reason to suspect anything other than friendship between them.
But as the days went on and you saw Joel and the new woman form a stronger bond, your concern grew. You couldn't escape the nagging suspicion that there was something more between them—something that harmed the precious trust you'd worked so hard to build. 
On today's evening, as you watched Joel and the woman laugh from across the room, you felt a pang of jealousy. You excused yourself and withdrew from the privacy of your thoughts since you could no longer contain your feelings.
You were alone in the living room, struggling with opposite emotions. Part of you felt ashamed for doubting Joel and allowing jealousy to cloud your thinking. But another part of you couldn't help but feel sad and insecure as if you weren't enough for him; after all, it wasn't just you, him, and Ellie outdoors any longer, and here in Jackson, you weren't the last woman in the world.
As you sat alone in the living room, buried in your thoughts, the sound of steps broke your state of trance. Looking up, you noticed Ellie enter the home, looking bright and cheerful, until she spotted your teary eyes.
"Hey, I missed you at dinner in the bar," Ellie said, concern etching her features as she approached you. "Is everything okay?"
You tried to brush off her concern with a forced smile, but Ellie wasn't fooled. "Yeah, everything's fine," you replied, your voice betraying the turmoil within you.
But Ellie wasn't about to let it go that easily. She moved closer, her gaze searching yours with intensity. "No, it's not. What happened? Why are you crying?"
Your heart ached at the concern in Ellie's eyes, and despite your best efforts to hold back the tears, they continued to fall. "I...I don't know," you admitted, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "I just...I don't know where Joel is."
Ellie's brow furrowed in confusion. "Joel? He's eating with Tommy and the new girl, why?"
You shook your head, unable to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't know," you repeated, feeling the tears threaten to overwhelm you once more. "I just...I need to talk to him."
Sensing the urgency in your voice, Ellie nodded in understanding. "Okay, let's go find him," she said, taking your hand and leading you out of the house.
As you followed Ellie towards the bar, your heart raced with fear and anticipation. You knew that whatever awaited you there, you couldn't continue to let your doubts and insecurities consume you.
Once inside the bar, you noticed Joel in the crowd, his gaze settling on yours with a warmth that shot an emotion through your chest. It was as if a magnetic force drew you closer together, despite any remaining doubts.
You moved across the crowded bar, Ellie's hand firmly clutched in yours, Joel's smile widening, and his gaze never leaving yours.
Finally reaching Joel's side, you felt a wave of relief sweep over you as he held you in his arms. The warmth of his hug swept away the residual frost of doubt, leaving you with an eager sense of calm and belonging.
"I missed you," Joel murmured, his voice soft as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"I missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned into Joel's embrace, reveling in the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
For a moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only you and Joel locked in a tender embrace. It was as if time itself had slowed to a halt, allowing you to savor the precious moments you shared together.
As Joel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, you felt a rush of emotion swell within you, a profound gratitude for the love and support he had always shown you.
As the tender moment between you and Joel lingered, a voice interrupted, pulling you back to the present. "Hey, Joel!" called out a cheerful voice, and you turned to see a woman approaching, a bright smile on her face.
Joel turned to face the stranger, his arm still wrapped over you protectively. "Oh, hey Rachel," he said, a warm smile on his face. "This is my girlfriend," he added, introducing you. Then he turned his face to introduce the stranger to you. "This is Rachel, and she is new to Jackson."
You smiled politely at Rachel, but a tinge of dread came over you as you watched how she drew in closer to Joel, her hand casually resting on his free arm. You repressed a jealous pang and pushed yourself to keep a friendly demeanor, even though your heart squeezed with uncertainty.
"It's nice to meet you, Rachel," you said, your voice solid despite the tumult inside you.
Rachel returned the welcome with a warm grin, and her eyes flickered with intrigue as she glanced. between you and Joel. "Likewise," she replied, her tone friendly but tinged with a hint of flirtation.
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As the night went on, you couldn't ignore the sense of unease that hung in the air. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, Rachel's lingering touches and seductive glances at Joel gnawed at your insides, stoking the jealousy that threatened to engulf you.
With each passing moment, it became more difficult to ignore Joel and Rachel's growing friendship. Their laughter and friendly banter got on your nerves, reminding you of the bond that they had.
You tried to ignore your misgivings and enjoy the evening with Joel, but insecurity weighed heavily on you. It felt like you were on the outside looking in, watching helplessly as Joel and Rachel got closer with each passing second.
Rachel's flirtations became more daring as the night progressed, her touches lingering a bit too long and her laughter provocative. Despite your best attempts to remain calm, the jealousy simmering beneath the surface threatened to explode.
You stole looks toward Joel, hoping to find reassurance in his eyes, but he seemed unaware of the impact Rachel's actions were having on you. It was as if she had enchanted him, consuming all of his attention.
You excused yourself from the table, unable to take the sight of Joel and Emily's flirtatious behavior any longer. You could understand, after all, that Joel was a handsome man who hadn't received this much attention since the world ended; yet, that didn't make it any less painful.
As you excused yourself from the table, a slew of feelings surged through you—pain, jealousy, and a deep sense of isolation. You longed for Joel's reassurance, his acknowledgment of the hurt that Rachel's behavior was causing you, but as you stole a glance at him, you saw only obliviousness in his gaze.
With a heavy heart, you moved away, your footsteps quietly echoing on the bar's hardwood floor. You felt Joel's stare on your back, but you couldn't force yourself to look into his eyes, scared of what you might find reflected there.
As you approached the edge of the room, you hesitated, your back facing Joel, struggling to find the perfect words. Finally, you spoke, hardly rising above a whisper. "I need some air," you remarked, your voice filled with anguish.
After a period of silence, you felt Joel's hand on your arm, warm and soothing. "Hey," he replied quietly, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"
You turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of longing and frustration. "I just...I need some time," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I'll be outside."
Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with understanding as he nodded in response. "I'll come find you," he promised, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand.
But instead, as you walked towards the house, the weight of the evening's events bearing down on you, you felt Joel's presence beside you. His steps were quiet, but his presence was comforting, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your pain.
"Hey," Joel said softly, his voice breaking the silence between you. "I'm sorry about back there. I didn't realize... I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."
You glanced sideways at Joel, the warmth of his gaze softening the edges of your frustration. "It's not your fault," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "I know you didn't mean to."
Joel fell into a step beside you, his hand reaching out to brush against yours. "I just want you to know that you're the only one for me," he said earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity. "No one else matters, not like you do."
“You could have told her about it,” you said, frustration edging into your tone.
Joel's expression faltered slightly at your words, a hint of defensiveness flickering in his eyes. "I didn't think it was necessary," he replied, his tone tinged with irritation. "I didn't want to embarrass her or make things awkward."
You felt a surge of frustration rising within you, the sting of jealousy and insecurity reigniting in your chest. "But by not saying anything, you made me feel like my feelings didn't matter," you countered, your voice tinged with hurt. "You made me doubt myself; doubt us."
Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice strained. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just didn't know how to handle the situation."
The tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions pressing down on both of you. You wanted to believe Joel's assurances of love and devotion, but the lingering doubts and insecurities threatened to cloud your judgment.
"I need to rest," you said, changing the subject, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "Tomorrow, we need to get up early for the patrol.”
“Actually, I’m not coming with you,” he said carefully.
“What? Why?”
“I’ll promise Rachel to...“
The air crackled with tension as Joel's words hung between you, his admission weighing heavily on your heart. Anger flared within you, fueled by hurt and betrayal.
"Why?" you demanded, your voice laced with frustration and disappointment. "Why would you choose her over me?
Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with regret. "I’m not choosing her over you; I would never do that," he replied, his voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't realize it would upset you."
You shook your head, unable to hide your frustration. "You should have talked to me about it first," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "You should have considered my feelings."
With a heavy heart, you turned away from Joel, the ache of disappointment echoing within you. As you retreated into the solitude of your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder if your relationship could withstand this latest test or if it was destined to crumble beneath the weight of unresolved conflicts and broken promises.
“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!” you exclaimed as you kept walking.
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The next morning dawned with a strong sense of tension in the air, the previous night's events still fresh in your mind. As you awoke from your sleep and began to prepare for the day ahead, the pain of disappointment and deceit chewed at your heart, casting a shadow on the early sun.
With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside any remaining doubts and concerns, determined to focus on the task at hand. As you approached the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a soothing reminder of Joel's presence.
You discovered him standing by the counter, holding a warm mug of coffee, and preparing a second cup for you. His expression was solemn.
His eyes were downcast, as if weighted down by the events of the night before.
"Morning, angel," he said, his voice tinged with regret, as he gave you the mug. "I made some coffee."
“Thank you, but I’m leaving,” you replied, shortly walking towards the door.
"Angel, wait," Joel called out, his voice pleading as he reached out to gently grasp your arm, halting your departure. His touch was warm against your skin, a silent plea for you to stay and hear him out.
You hesitated, torn between the desire to escape the tension that hung between you and the longing to resolve the issues that had driven a wedge between you and Joel. With a heavy sigh, you turned to face him, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.
“Take care; you know your safety is the most important thing for me,” he reassured, meeting your sad gaze.
"What a shame you're not going to be there to protect me," you replied bitterly, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. The words spilled out before you could stop them, a reflection of the pain and frustration that churned within you.
Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with remorse as he reached out to gently cup your cheek.
Joel closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss filled with longing and remorse. It was a silent reassurance of his love and commitment, a promise to mend the wounds that had been inflicted upon your relationship.
As the kiss lingered, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. Despite the pain and hurt, you knew that Joel was sincere in his desire to make things right, and you were willing to give him another chance.
Pulling away, Joel met your gaze with a mixture of regret and determination. "We'll talk when you get back," he said softly, his voice filled with resolve. "I'll be here waiting for you, ready to make things right."
With a nod of agreement, you returned Joel's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of your shared commitment to each other.
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As you and Tommy ventured out on patrol, the rhythm of your footsteps echoed against the deserted streets of Jackson. The tension that had weighed heavily on you began to ease slightly, replaced by a sense of purpose as you focused on the task at hand.
"So, what happened between you and Joel?" Tommy asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you. His voice was filled with concern, and his eyes were studying your expression carefully.
You sighed, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. "We had an argument," you admitted reluctantly, the words heavy on your tongue. "I just don't know how to trust him again."
Tommy nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I get it," he said softly. "But you have to remember, Joel cares about you more than anything. He'd do anything to protect you, even if he doesn't always show it the right way."
You mulled over Tommy's words, the weight of his reassurance providing some measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty that plagued you. Despite the doubts that lingered in your mind, you knew that, deep down, Joel's intentions were genuine and his love for you was unwavering.
"I know," you replied, a sense of resolve creeping into your voice. "I just need to figure things out."
Tommy placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze filled with empathy. "You will," he said confidently. "And when you do, Joel will be right there waiting for you, ready to make things right."
With a nod of gratitude, you continued on your patrol, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on your shoulders but with a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Tommy's support and reassurance, knowing that with his guidance and the strength of your bond with Joel, you would find a way to navigate the challenges that lay ahead.
“Of course, you will say nice things about your stupid brother,” you joked.
Tommy chuckled at your jest, the sound carrying through the quiet streets as you continued on your patrol. "Hey, he may be stubborn and thick-headed sometimes, but Joel's got a good heart," he said with a grin. "And he cares about you more than anything."
You couldn't help but smile at Tommy's words, grateful for his unwavering support and his ability to see the best in Joel, even in the midst of conflict. "Thanks, Tommy," you said sincerely, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. "I appreciate it."
Tommy nodded in response, his expression filled with understanding. "Anytime," he replied, his voice laced with warmth. "We're family, after all. And family sticks together, no matter what."
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As you and Tommy continued your patrol around Jackson, everything was eerily quiet, with the only sound being the subtle crunch of gravel beneath your feet. The weight of insecurity lingered in the air, but you pressed on, determined to do your job and safeguard your town.
A group of people appeared from the shadows unexpectedly, their faces hidden by the night's darkness. Your heart jumped into your throat as you understood the danger that was immediately surrounding you.
You weren't a weak person; in fact, people considered you a powerful fighter, always merciless when it was required and determined to save the ones you cared about, so your instincts kicked in and your senses heightened as adrenaline flowed through veins. Despite the suddenness of the attack, you maintained your composure, guided by your training and expertise.
Until one of them grabbed you and pinned you down, your heart raced with a mix of fear and determination. You struggled against their hold, every muscle in your body tensing as you fought to break free. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the grip of your assailant remained firm, their strength overpowering.
With a surge of desperation, you summoned all your strength and training, channeling it into a fierce struggle to break free. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, of finding a way to overcome this unexpected obstacle and emerge victorious.
Beside you, Tommy fought valiantly against the other attackers, his determination matching your own as he defended against the onslaught. Though outnumbered and caught off guard, you refused to give in, clinging to the hope that help would soon arrive.
“So, you’re Joel’s Miller girl,” a feminine voice said.
The voice cut through the chaos, freezing you momentarily as you tried to recognize the mocking tone. Despite the tense situation, a surge of anger flared within you at the mention of Joel's name. You refused to let fear or intimidation weaken your resolve.
With renewed determination, you continued to struggle against your assailant's hold, your mind racing with thoughts of escape and survival. Every fiber of your being was focused on breaking free and finding a way to overcome this threat and protect yourself and Tommy.
“Tommy!” you exclaimed, worry creeping up with you.
“I’m fine!” he reassured back.
“What do you want?” You asked the girl, who is now in front of you.
The girl smirked, her eyes filled with venom as she peered down at you, pinned under her. "What do I want?" she said, her voice full of scorn. "I'd like to send a message to your dear Joel. I want him to understand that no one is safe, including his girl."
Her statements enraged your fury, but you kept calm, refusing to show any signs of weakness in the face of her remarks. "And what message would that be?" you asked, your voice steady despite what was occurring.
As she drew in closer, the girl's smirk deepened, and her eyes took on a malicious glitter. "The message is simple," she stated, her voice low and frightening. "I will take away what he loves.
the most from him, as he did with me.”
“What?” but before you could even realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain through your abdomen.
The sharp pain ripped through your abdomen, stealing the breath from your lungs as you gasped in shock. A guttural cry of agony escaped your lips as you felt blood seeping from the wound, staining your clothes crimson.
The girl's cruel laughter echoed in your ears as she withdrew the weapon, a twisted smirk of satisfaction twisting her features. "That's the message," she said coldly, her voice dripping with malice.
You didn’t want to die here without seeing the smiles of the people you loved.
Your vision blurred as waves of pain washed over you, threatening to drag you into unconsciousness. Through the haze of agony, you fought to stay conscious, your thoughts consumed by a desperate need to survive, to make it back to Joel, to warn him of the danger that now threatened you both.
“Hey, stay with me. I’m taking you to Jackson,” Tommy said desperately, but his voice was just an echo at this time.
The world seemed to spin around you as you fought to hold onto consciousness, Tommy's voice barely registering amidst the haze of pain and confusion. Every fiber of your being screamed in agony, but you refused to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume you.
With a herculean effort, you summoned whatever strength remained within you, clinging to Tommy's words like a lifeline. Through sheer force of will, you forced your eyes to focus, locking onto Tommy's determined gaze as he lifted you into his arms.
The journey back to Jackson was a blur of agony and desperation, with each step sending waves of pain coursing through your battered body. But with every labored breath, you clung to the hope that burned within you—a determination to survive and protect those you loved.
As the walls of Jackson loomed into view, relief flooded through you, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. With Tommy's unwavering support, you stumbled towards safety, with the promise of medical aid and the comfort of Joel's embrace urging you forward.
As you were carried through the gates of Jackson, the weight of exhaustion and pain threatened to overwhelm you.
Tommy stepped into Jackson's doors, crying out for help as you lay practically still in his arms. The wound in your stomach was major, and he couldn't shake the thought that you would die as a result of his inability to protect you.
As Tommy stormed through the doors of Jackson, his voice buzzing with desperation, terror spread throughout the neighborhoods. People turned their heads, concerned expressions on their faces, as they saw you almost unresponsive in his arms, crimson blood covering the clothes you were wearing.
A crowd swiftly gathered around Tommy, their alarming murmuring filling the air. Tommy ignored them, focusing entirely on getting you the help you so desperately needed.
As Tommy went towards the improvised infirmary, frantic yells sounded out, requesting the medical attention they had here. His steps were heavy with guilt, and each instant seemed to last forever as he feared the worst.
Finally, the infirmary doors swung open, and a team of medics led by Jackson hurried forward to take you from Tommy's arms. They worked fast and effectively, their expressions serious as they assessed the seriousness of your injury. 
Tommy stood back, his hands quivering with terror and remorse, as he saw the doctor rush into action. He couldn't shake the notion that your condition was a result of his failing to safeguard you from harm.
Joel's heart was tight with fear when he saw a commotion near the infirmary. Without hesitation, he raced towards the crowd, his instincts screaming for him to get to you as soon as possible.
Joel's heart raced in his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd, finally arriving at the infirmary entrance. He saw you, pale and frail, in the arms of the doctors, your life hanging in limbo.
Joel moved forward without hesitation, arms outstretched, reaching for you. "No," he murmured hoarsely, terror and desperation evident in his tone. "Please, don't let her die."
The medics stepped aside, allowing Joel to take you into his arms. As he held you close, he could feel the warmth of your body against his, but it was too still, too fragile. Tears welled in his eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, silently praying for your recovery.
“Hey, angel,” he murmured, finding strength in his voice. “Open those beautiful eyes of yours for me, baby, okay? Please, do it!” He continued sobbing as he caressed your hair. “I can lose everything, but not you... Oh god, not you, please?”
Joel kept holding you in his arms, preventing you from going away from him, and you could feel his touch, his care, and his voice pleading with you to stay with him. You wanted that, you wanted so bad, but the strength was dying inside you, and everything you ever knew went black.
You became a lifeless frame in the arms of your biggest love. When you stopped breathing, Joel’s heart stopped beating because, as if it was glass, it shattered.
The look of the doctor and the face of Tommy told them the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge, confirming the unthinkable: you were gone. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Joel's world shattered around him. He clung to your lifeless form, his body racked with sobs as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of his loss.
"No, no, please," Joel choked out, his voice breaking with grief as he held you close, unwilling to accept the truth of what had just happened. Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, his sobs echoing in the silence of the infirmary.
For a moment, time stood still as Joel clung to you, unwilling to let go and unwilling to accept that you were gone. The world around him blurred, and the pain in his heart was too overwhelming to bear.
But as the reality of your loss settled over him, Joel's grief turned to rage, a primal, consuming fury that burned through him like wildfire. With a guttural cry of anguish, he cradled you in his arms, his body trembling with the force of his emotions.
In that moment, Joel felt as if his world had come crashing down around him, leaving nothing but darkness and despair in its wake. He had lost everything—the love of his life, his reason for living, his angel.
And as he held you close, his heart shattered into a million pieces, each one a painful reminder of the love he had lost and the life that had been snuffed out too soon. For Joel, the world had ceased to exist, consumed by the gaping void left in the wake of your passing.
He was never going to kiss you again; he was never going to hold you close at night or wake up to your smile in the morning. The future he had imagined, filled with laughter and love, now lay shattered at his feet.
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A few hours later, Joel woke up in your shared bed, and you were sleeping next to him.
Joel's hand extended out to touch you, and a sense of warmth and comfort came over him. For a little while, he felt the smoothness of your skin beneath his fingertips and the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed peacefully beside him.
But then reality slammed back in like a tidal wave, yanking him from his comfortable state of sleep. His hand gripped the empty air, his fingers wrapping around nothing but chilly emptiness.
Joel's eyes opened abruptly, and he found himself lying in the dimly lit space, alone in the bed that had previously accommodated both of you. The ache in his chest returned with vengeance, a searing pang of anguish piercing his heart as he realized you were no longer alongside him.
Joel let out a deep sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, the memories of the dream still fresh in his mind. It felt so genuine and so vivid that, for a brief minute, he believed you were still alive and with him.
You were gone, taken from him in a cruel twist of fate, and no amount of dreaming could bring you back to him.
It's been a week, and he didn't attend your funeral because he was unable to accept that you were no longer alive.
Until today, when he stepped out of the house, which was surrounded by the flowers that some members of the community had left for you, and walked to your graveyard.
As Joel approached your graveyard, he felt an enormous burden settle over him—the weight of grief and loss that had been his constant companion in the days since your death. The walk appeared longer than it had ever been, with each step weighed down by the weight of his grief.
As he reached the grave, Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of the newly turned earth and the plain headstone traced your name as if it were your face. Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of freshly churned ground, with a simple monument marking your final resting place, acted as a sharp reminder of your absence.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you; I'm sorry I couldn't save you."
Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he laid a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the headstone, each bloom a silent tribute to the love and loss he felt in his heart. The scent of the flowers mingled with the earthy aroma of the graveyard, a poignant reminder of the fleeting beauty of life and the inevitability of death.
Joel's voice quivered as he spoke, every word heavy with the weight of his despair and sorrow. He kneeled near the grave, his hand resting on the cool surface of the headstone, seeking comfort in the memory of your love.
"I want you to know that it was never me who protected you, but you who protected me," Joel said quietly, his words barely audible above the delicate murmur of the wind through the trees. "You were always the one who gave me strength, who showed me what it meant to love and to be loved."
As Joel spoke, tears streamed down his cheeks, revealing his real and unadulterated grief. At that time, surrounded by the serene tranquility of the graveyard, he felt profound loss, a yawning void that could never be filled.
"But now you're gone," Joel added, his voice breaking with sadness. "And I do not know how to go on without you."
Joel rose to his feet after one final long glance at the headstone, a sensation of purpose coming over him. He may have lost you, but he promised to always carry your love with him, to respect your memory in all he did, and to find a way to move forward, even in the face of his greatest pain.
You were always in every star shining above, in the sky.
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He was back in the dimly lit room, with the weight of the grief still over his shoulders, and with trembling hands, he reached for the small camera you had traded, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of the device.
As he turned it on, the screen flickered to life, illuminating the darkness with a soft glow. And there, displayed before him, was the image he had captured of your sleeping, your peaceful expression a bittersweet reminder of how simply you could make him happy.
With a heavy heart, Joel reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the patterns of your face on the screen. It was as if he could feel your presence beside him.
Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he lingered on the image, his heart aching with longing for the touch he could no longer feel. But in that moment, surrounded by memories of you, he found a glimmer of solace, a reminder that though you were gone, your love would always remain.
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427 notes · View notes
angel-eyes05 · 11 months
Text
to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 4)
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PREVIOUS CHAPTER
pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 
summary: so much time has passed since you last saw each other. will old feelings come up again once you two find each other again?
warnings: HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, this is so against canon its insane, NSFW (we did it guys we're finally here), switch!reader and switch!miguel, blood mention, fang and claws play, p in v unprotected, cumplay, angsty (i couldnt help it), it goes, angst, smut, and then angsty fluff at the end youre welcome
word count: 3.2k
notes: for some reason, it didn't let me tag as many people who wanted to be on the taglist, so if i didn't end up tagging you for the final part, sorry idk what went wrong
also forgive me i was listening to boygenius while writing the parts leading up to the smut so it might get a little angsty there (i cant help it) (miguel and y/n are so bite the hand and cool about it core)
but then i balanced it out by listening to frank ocean (pyramids specifically) while writing the smut so you're welcome
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Three years had passed. Three years since you finally found Miles, defeated The Spot, and caused the collapse of the Spider Society. Everyone had gone back to their separate dimensions, but were able to still visit each other with their still working portal watches. Miles and Gwen specifically were very happy. Peter B. went back home to live with MJ and Mayday, sending you frequent pictures of Mayday to keep you updates. You were different. You didn’t return to your home world. You didn’t necessarily have anyone to return to per se. Instead, you decided to hop between dimensions, seeing what crime there was to fight in cities that didn’t have anyone to protect it. It was enough to keep you occupied, and as long as your watch still worked, you had the option to stop if you wanted to. Life was nice. You finally had found peace.
But something felt off. Something thudding in the back of your head. Because even though you had been at peace for three years, it had also been three years since you saw him. You had seen him during the final showdown between all of Spider Society, but your team had managed to keep you two apart, due to fear for your safety. After the fight was over, you two had made eye contact with each other a couple of times, but never approached each other. If you were being honest, you were still scared of him at that point, even seeing him tied up there on the floor waiting for someone to deal with him. 
It took a while for your gashes to heal, the ones on your back taking much longer to turn into scars than the ones on your tricep and thigh. The marks on your body were frequent reminders of him and the damage he’s caused to your life. Part of you hated him for it. But most of you just missed him. Unlike Jess, who sent you pictures of her baby every now and then, neither of you had reached out to the other. It was crazy how five years of shared history can be thrown to the ground so quickly.
Right now, you were sitting on the railing of your apartment balcony. For the past month or so, you decided to park it in Earth-3819. There wasn’t much crime going on there, so it was a nice place to stop when you needed a break. Your feet dangled off the edge of the railing, as you looked out to see the sunset on the skyline. The wind blew faintly at your face, causing strands of hair to fall out of your high bun. You had been thinking more about him recently, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were. 
Almost as if you manifested it, you heard the sliding glass door from your bedroom slide open. Startled, you quickly turned around, ready just in case it was an attacker.
It was much worse than an attacker. 
You mouth laid agape as his massive shadow covered your smaller body. Feelings that laid dormant for the past three years suddenly erupting in your stomach. You looked up to the roof of your building as a signal to meet you up there, as you attached a web to the top and swung up there.
Once you were both at the top, you faced your back to him to take time to catch your breath. Your emotions were all over the place right now. “You’re really hard to find, you know,” he said trying to break the silence. You wanted to throw up. As much as you hoped this moment would come, you never realized how unprepared you would be if it ever did. You couldn’t bare to look at him right now, knowing you would lose control of yourself if you did. “You look…good.” How would he know, he only saw your face for a second before you bolted off. You both stood there, the wind growing louder and louder with each second you both stayed silent. 
All of your senses came to a freeze once you felt his hand place itself on your shoulder, causing a flinch from you. “I wanted to find you again, mi vida,” he said in that rich, deep, smooth tone of his that drives you crazy. You could tell he was getting closer when you felt the hairs on your neck stand up from him breathing on them. “I missed you, and I was hoping we could pick up where we left off,” he said into the crook of your neck and began to plant kisses there. You broke free from his grasp by the third kiss he left. “No no no no no, no we can’t. It’s not that simple Miguel,” you said, pinching your bridge and sighing. There's no way he could've thought it would be this easy. He's not this stupid….is he?
“Listen amor, I’m sorry for everything that happened. But the past is the past.” He walked closer to you. “And I want my future with you.” He was up against you again. This time instead of your shoulder, he dragged his finger up and down your back in an almost hypnotic motion. God, you wanted him so bad, you wanted it to be this simple. That he can just apologize and everything could be okay. But you were reminded it couldn't be that way once his finger hit a pressure point in your scar. You swatted your hands in the air and walked away from him again. “No Miguel, that's not how this works. You can just do the things you've done to me and just say sorry and expect it to fix everything. You're not a child.” 
Once you turned around to face him, you saw him standing there like a lost puppy. You just wish he could see what you were talking about. “Don't act like you didn't do horrible things then too. I saw what you did to Jess.” “Don't turn this onto me Miguel. This is about you.” You walked up to him and pressed your finger into his chest. “This is about you, and the horrible things you've done to me! I can't even take a shower anymore without looking at myself in the mirror and seeing your damage!” You lifted up your shirt sleeve. “You did this! This was all you!” Miguel looks down at you with sympathetic eyes as your eyes began to well up. 
“And you can’t just barge in on this life I’ve made for myself and ask for me back because I won't go with you!” You were fully crying at this point, desperately trying to get your words out between sobs and lightly punching at Miguel's chest while he just stared at you. “Because I hate you Miguel! I hate you, okay!” You couldn't manage to talk anymore, overcome with the emotions he caused you to feel. You rested your head on his chest as you continued to sob. He wrapped his arms around you, causing you to do the same to him immediately. You sat there crying into his arms for about a minute, until he lifted up your chin with his finger.
“I’m so sorry I did this to you mi princesa. I’m so sorry. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Overtaken by emotion, you grab his face and crash your lips into his. Almost instinctively, his hands find a home onto your hips. You pull away for a second. “Just stop talking already,” you say breathlessly. He rushes to connect the two of your lips again, already going as far as to slip his tongue in between your lips. He’s so passionate about everything he does. His hands hold a tight grip on your body as his tongue explores your mouth. Almost like he’s hungry for you. No, not hungry. Starving. Famished. Three years apart was too much for him to stand without you by his side or in his bed. He needed you desperately. Like his life depended on if he was going to be able to fuck you into your bed tonight or not. 
He let out moans as your hands ran through and tugged on his hair. But as soon as his claws came out and dug into your hips, you pulled your mouth off of his, a string of saliva still connecting you two. “No claws Miguel. Bring them out again, and its over okay.” You still weren’t mentally over his attack against you. He nods. “Of course, baby.” With that said, you let go of him to walk over to the edge of the building. Once your at the edge, you signal him over. He follows, almost as if he’s under some spell. You attach one of your webs to your balcony railing below and use it as a guide to fall down to it. You land on your balcony, Miguel following close behind as you open the sliding door to your bedroom.
After you close the door and blinds, you turn to find Miguel almost hovering over you. He looked like some kind of lost dog the way he kept following you around, begging for more of you. You gently kiss him and guide him over to your bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and begins to pull your hoodie off your head as you help him take off his suit. Once your sweatpants are off as well, you gently push him onto his back on your bed. Goosebumps form all over your body, partially from exposure to the cold air in your room, and partially from seeing him like this underneath you again. Finally, you take his already hard cock, and slide it into your hole, causing a rough groan out of him as you begin to rock on his hips.
You take things nice and slow while you’re in control, knowing the moment you get sloppy he’ll start to take over for you. You kissed down his neck and collarbone as you rode him, with him gripping hard at your back and your hips. “Nng, m-missed you s-so much amor,” he groaned out. “Tan hermosa.” You begin to speed your thrusting, tugging at his hair to get strained noises out of him. His hands make their way up to your back, digging into your skin. But your quick to rip his hands out of your back and pin them above his head once his talons come out again, into your back this time. You also take your lips off of his and stop your thrusting.
Miguel searched your face for some kind of explanation to the sudden stop, to find you panting and nearly frozen still. You’re taken back to that fight, a result from his claws finding a way into your scars. You’re pulled back to reality by Miguel’s voice. “Amor, que paso?” he asks with concern. You quickly wipe the sweat off your face and look into his beautiful crimson eyes. You wanted to forget the pain he caused you all those years ago, but unfortunately you couldn’t. But, you were willing to forgive him though. “Nothing Miggy,” you say gently, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. He tries to move his hands back onto you, but finds his hands still trapped to the headboard. He looks at you confused. “What did I say about the claws, Miguel.” 
“Ay, baby you know its hard for me to control them around you,” he says, slightly annoyed, driven by the need to touch you again. “Well you’re going to need to try to okay? For now though, you’re going to stay like this.” His face drops, and he makes a sound almost like a whine. “Ay coño, lo siento péro you don’t need to punish me.” You felt powerful hearing him whine and beg like this. You were denying a starving man of his woman, his source of energy. 
Arms squirmed in your hand, as you began to rock on top of him again. You made sure to not kiss him either, moving away whenever he would try to place his mouth onto yours. He whined as you picked up your speed, desperate to feel you again. “P-please, let me go cariño.” You moved your mouth down and whispered in his ear, running your finger up and down his stomach, causing him to melt under you and whimper like a madman. “Not just yet,” you whispered seductively, sending extra chills down his spine and into his stomach when you bit into his ear lobe.
Overcome with your own urge to feel him, you accidentally let go of his hands and moved yours to grab hold of each of his pecs as you planted kisses over his sternum. Suddenly, you’re overswept as Miguel is freed and takes control over the situation. “I love you amor, but you have to let me touch your,” he says in that beautiful, rich tone of his before he goes at his own pace: slamming himself into you. 
He goes much faster than you did, and you almost come there on the spot as he nearly breaks your bed with his ferocity. You grip onto his enormous triceps for leverage as you let out a series of incoherent moans. “You like that, huh?” he pants out. You shove your lips onto his to get him to stop talking. “I-if you’re gonna do this, n-ngh, you’re gonna have to s-hh-ut up,” you manage to get out in between your almost inhumane sounds. He nods and shoves his tongue into your mouth, exploring the insides of your cheeks while his tip slams into your walls, causing that white heat to begin to build up in your stomach.
His hands swarm across your body, making up for lost time before, and eventually land on your breasts as he begins to palm at them. Just as you thought he couldn’t arouse you any more than he already has, he moves his mouth along your jawline, down to your neck, and begins to mark it with kisses and slight sucking. “I-I missed you too, Miggy.” 
That nickname you had for him drove him crazy. So crazy in fact, his next move was to drive his fangs into your neck, making sure to not let his poison seep into your neck. He presses his lips and sucks on the skin on your neck while sinking his fangs deeper into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, as you held onto his broad shoulders while he basically slammed you into the bed. “Oh Miguel,” you moaned out. He nodded, not able to speak, due to his fangs still being attached to your neck. You could tell he was getting close too with how sloppy his pace was getting. 
You’re washed over with bliss when the heat in your stomach finally takes over the rest of your body, almost clawing at Miguel while you come. His hands put more pressure on your breasts as he comes as well, moaning into the softness of your neck. Once you two have both finished, he slowly pulls his teeth out of your neck, and licks up the metallic liquid with his warm, delicate tongue. He slowly pulls his cock out of the sweetness of your cunt and rolls over to lay next to you on the bed, dragging his fingers across your pussy, taking the cum his fingers picked up and putting it in his mouth.
He plants a kiss onto your forehead before saying, “One second, princesa, I’ll be right back,” as he got up to go to the bathroom. He must have been in there for about 10 minutes before coming back into your room and reaching out his hand for yours. You take his hand as he leads you out of bed, reminded of how naked you are when you reveal yourself from the sheets.
He leads you into the bathroom to see that hes drawn a bath for the two of you. You blush slightly at the gesture, as he gets in first and leads you in. The touch of the water numbs your body slightly with the mixture of the cold room to the hot bath water. You almost melt as you sink in, laying your back against Miguel’s chest as he wraps his arms around your body. You could fall asleep right here, mixed between the comfort of the bath water, and Miguel’s body finally against yours again. The bathtub was kind of small, so his body was taking up most of the space, causing him to basically engulf you. 
You were surrounded in him, his lips almost attached to the nape of your nack, his arms consuming your upper half, and his legs intwining with your lower half. He wiggles slightly to reach the soap, puts it in the water to wet it, and lathers it onto your body. First, he washes your arms, rubbing the soap back and forth over your arm hairs, and even under your armpits. Next, he moves to wash your chest. He takes the soap and moves it over your breasts and your underboob, causing you to move in closer to him. His response is to peck kisses into the crook of your neck, getting little giggles out of you. You stop giggling though after he stops kissing you and stays still for a second. 
You wait in silence for him to do something. “...Miggy…you okay?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything. You turn your head slightly to see him. Out of your peripherals, you see him staring solemnly at your back. He’s finally seen them. The four almost perfectly placed scars warping across your back. They were huge. And he knows they’re from him. You turned your head back to the front and dug it in between your knees, pushing out your back even more. Miguel delicately traced his fingers over them, as you waited curled up for him to say something. “I’m sorry,” is all he can manage to weakly push out. 
You decide to turn your body around to face him, splashing water around in the cramped bathtub while doing so. His eyes are down with sadness creeping over his face. You cup his cheek with your hand and press a loving, gentle kiss onto his lips. You bring his arms over your shoulders and wrap your legs around his hips. You wanted to be engulfed by him. You were so pressed on staying mad at him for so many years that you forgot how much you loved being this close to him. You could hear his heart softly beating as you pressed your head against his chest. He soon wrapped his arms around your body, taking you into him, and dug his head into the crook of your neck, almost as if he was hiding. 
You stayed there for a moment before eventually turning back around. You laid your head in a position so you could still see his face if you looked up. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off in his arms. Your last thoughts before you slipped out of consciousness was of how perfect this was. 
You had found your home again. Moreso, he found his way to you. And this time, you were never going to let go.
---------------------------------------------------
a/n: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone for sticking around during this series. i know it wasn't meant to be 4 parts and only 2 so i really appreciate everyone who stuck around for the whole thing. make sure to look out for my next thing cause i wanna start writing an enemies to lover oc x miguel thing so please go and support that once thats out. thanks guys!!!!
taglist: @jenniferdixon05207 @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @konniebon @hwanunjin @simp-nerd-16 @chucklefuvk @elwyn7 @haileybxxr @ilovemymomscooking @lansy-4 @maxi-ride @d4rno @callsign-blue @obamnas-soda @sophipet @violentlyneon @d1lf-loverrr @afro-hispwriter @kirke-is-my-name @ilovemiguelohara @lavnderluv @konniebon @msecho19 @kiamewrites
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lovebugism · 4 months
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“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” with a grumpy scrooge eddie!! maybe he and reader move into a new neighborhood with friendly neighbors who go all out for christmas and are always caroling? i can’t imagine the people of hawkins showing up at his door lol
ty for requesting :D — the metalhead freak gets stuck with a bunch of carolers and runs to his girl for comfort (established relationship, fluff, eddie "loves being babied" munson, 1.2k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
Eddie moves to the nice side of Hawkins with you. Not the suburbs, exactly, but pretty damn close. 
It’s a house with stairs and a sliding back door, both of which only existed in movies for a kid who grew up in a trailer park. The backyard is fenced in, too — big enough for a dog. A couple of them, even. And maybe a pool if his music career takes off. The realtor also told you that the school district is “to die for,” and even though that’s not really an issue right now, Eddie figures it’ll be important sometime soon.
These are all things you’re supposed to care about when you’re settling down with someone you can see a future with. Eddie thinks so, at least. He can see himself getting old with you, in this house and on that front porch. He’ll be holding your hand on your afternoon walks until both of yours are spotted and wrinkly.
The only bad thing about life (halfway) in the suburbs is running into all the assholes he used to know in high school. Vicki Carmichael was walking her too-expensive dog yesterday morning, and the afternoon before that, Tina Burton had the whole cul-de-sac down the street shut down for her kid’s first birthday party. What the hell is a one-year-old even supposed to do with a bouncy house?
It’s totally trippy. 
But Eddie’s been able to avoid them well enough. Or maybe everyone else is avoiding him. Either way, he’s grateful.
“No— where are you going?” you whine as Eddie slides open the glass door of the shower. You’re still getting used to being able to do this with him now that you’ve moved into the new place. The bathroom back at the trailer was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
“I’m already done, and you’ve barely even started,” he answers, laughing at the dramatic desperation in your voice. 
He steps onto the plush mat outside the tub and wraps a towel around his tattooed hips. Steam flows out, and the outside cold swoops in. It pricks your skin and makes you shiver. You duck under the faucet for warmth until he closes the door behind him.
“You’re gonna be in here forever, and I’m gonna get all pruney,” Eddie insists, right before shaking out his damp curls like a wet dog.
“You usually like it when I take my time,” you joke, laughing when it makes him silent.
Eddie’s brain gets all foggy at your words. Worse than the heavy steam filling up the bathroom. He’s contemplating whether or not to jump back into the shower with you — and really let you “take your time” — but a knock on the door throws a wrench in his plans.
“Can you get the door for me, honey?” you ask just to tease him, ‘cause you know he’s milliseconds away from pressing you against the shower wall.
He listens to you, because he always listens to you, and then ultimately decides he never will again.
Eddie leaves the warmth of the bathroom, shoves on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that do little to protect him from the bitter cold outside, and finds a number of familiar faces standing on his porch. 
It’s an entire crowd of people who used to bully him in high school — plus a bunch of snotty private school kids — all dressed up in the most horrendous, white-bread Christmas outfits the world has ever seen.
“Oh, shit…” Eddie mumbles under his breath, the evidence of his words leaving in a thin white cloud. He hadn’t even meant to say them out loud. They just sorta spilled out in the moment. Honestly, he thinks he might be dreaming.
The town’s resident metalhead is forced to sit through a botched rendition of Deck the Halls and Holy Night. And since you’re still in the shower, you can’t even swoop in to save him from it all. He just suffers through the half-out-of-tune caroling while his drying hair frizzes, a wavering smile of confusion stagnant on his face. 
When they’re finally gone, Eddie shuts the door with a chest-deflating sigh. He isn’t totally sure he’s taken a single breath since he opened the damn thing.
“Who was that?” you call from the top of the stairs, a fuzzy towel clutched to your chest. The warm scent of your body wash flows from the opened bathroom door and down the steps.
Eddie turns to look up at you from the bottom of them. He feels so suddenly drained. Like he just ran a marathon or pulled an all-nighter — something utterly exhausting that’s taken a piece of his soul. Maybe it’s dramatic, but he feels a little like his suffering has stripped ten years off his life.
“Remind me again why we can’t kill the carolers?” he jokes as he trudges up the stairs, the railing of them lined with glowing garlands.
“Those were carolers?” you gape, eyes wide and brows raised to your hairline.
Answering the door isn’t really Eddie’s thing. Conversations with strangers at the door aren’t really his thing, either. You think he might’ve just lived through one of his greatest fears.
“Yeah,” he scoffs, laughing through an exhausted sigh. He walks to your shared bedroom and flops on the center of the bed. A heavy sigh falls from his lips like he just got done working a twelve-hour shift. 
You’d laugh at his dramatics if you thought they were anything but totally real. So instead, you sit gingerly beside him, careful to keep your towel from falling, and try to comfort him without giggling.
“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” you mutter, rubbing a palm up and down the length of his back. You’re grateful he can’t see your smile from this angle, lest he think you aren’t taking this seriously.
“Oh, don’t be,” he tells you, muffled into his pillow. Sarcasm drips from his honeyed lips like venom. “It was tons of fun seeing Jason fucking Carver on our doorstep.”
“Jason was out there?” you gape, a little louder than you mean to. Your shock is palpable.
Eddie huffs and turns onto his back. “Yeah— did you know he has a kid now?”
“What?”
“Uh-huh,” he nods with a small smirk. The life returns to the chocolate of his eyes now that he can gossip. “She was a really cute baby, you know, considering. The odds weren’t really in her favor there.”
You tilt your cheek to your shoulder and cup his jaw with a warm hand. Your thumb rubs gently over the flushed apple of it, tinted cold from the outside weather. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” you tell him, half playful but with a sincere glimmer in your eye.
“No, it’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see that.”
You can’t tell if Eddie knows you’re teasing him or not. Or if he’s joking about the whole thing ‘cause it’s over now. Your boy’s too hard to read for his own good. You decide to keep pitying him anyway. His love language is basically being babied.
“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?”
He nods, a small pout jutting out his rosy lips. “With the mini marshmallows, please?” he mumbles.
You bend at the waist to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Whatever you want, babe,” you promise in a gentle murmur.
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forever-rogue · 1 year
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Hi darling 🥰 I love, absolutely love the way you write Eddie and I have an idea for a fic! Maybe reader is Eddie's best friend forever (she has the same style, taste in music, also plays D&D, has tattoos, colorful hair) she is also in love with Eddie, but for some reason she thinks Eddie is attracted to cheerleaders and would never pay attention to her sooo she gets quiet and closed off, she's hurt and sad, she feels not enough but our dear boy finally gets the truth out of her and shows her his love, that she's the only one who really matters to him 🥹 If you are ok with it they have romantic sex but no pressure! Love ya!
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AN | Friends to lovers! Fools in love! Requited pining 🥺🥰
Warnings | Language
Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Main, Eddie 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
He had a pretty smile. A really fuckin’ pretty smile. 
It had been one of the first things you’d noticed about him when you met him as an awkward pre-teen. Now it was one of your favorite things about him. Among everything else, but you know, that wasn’t important. Sure, you were in love with Eddie Munson, also known as your best friend, but that was beside the point. Well…maybe it was the whole point. 
But none of that mattered. Because while you were in love with your dorky, funny, and hot best friend, nothing was ever going to change. While you were like him in so many ways, and people always presumed the two of you were dating (to which Eddie liked to remind people that you were platonic with a capital p), you were absolutely not his type. God, it's brutal out here.
No, his type was soft, ultra feminine, pastel pretty girls, bonus points if they were cheerleaders. If you had to sum it down to a singular person, Chrissy Cunningham fit the bill. And, honestly, you couldn’t even blame him. Not only was she pretty, smart, and funny, she was also kind. She’d never had so much as a singular rude thing to say and that made you want to hate her even more. Eddie was infatuated with her and all you were was his best friend. And it fucking sucked.
No matter how hard you tried to get over him, by hooking up with other people, trying to expand your interests to include other people, and even - for just a horrible moment - you’d tried to change yourself to be more his type, it never worked. Your thoughts, feelings - your heart - always went back to him. 
Eventually you’d had enough and decided that it was time to make a change. Even though you knew it would break your heart, you decided that this was the only way you’d ever get over him.
You had to create a divide, to set a distance and boundaries between the two of you. It was going to hurt at first, but that would pass, hopefully, one day and perhaps you’d both be better.
That was the plan in your head anyway…too bad life decided not to play by your little plan.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Hey sweetheart,” ugh. Your heart cracked at the sound of the sweet pet name he’d always called you. Normally you liked it…normally when you weren’t trying to avoid him. He slid into the seat next to you, elbow on the table as he rested his chin in his hand. You could feel him staring at you before he reached over and delicately twisted a lock of your hair around his pinky, “new color. I like purple, it looks pretty.”
“T-thanks,” you swallowed thickly before staring down at your tray, your appetite slowly disappearing, “did you need something?”
“Umm duh,” he teased, “it’s Friday night, aka movie night, and I am making sure you remember since you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Which I won’t take personally, unless it continues on.”
“Oh,” you hadn’t forgotten movie night. It had been a tradition for the last five years, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face a night alone with him. You drummed your fingers along the table, “I-I can’t tonight. Sorry, Eddie, I…forgot.”
“You forgot movie night?” his entire face fell and as you shrugged your shoulders and nodded slightly, “but we always…have movie night. How-”
“Look, I’m sorry,” you allowed yourself one little look at the boy before feeling your heart drop. You’d never seen such a sad look on his face before. You grabbed your bag before standing up, “I just forgot, I’m sorry. I…I’ll see you around.”
You were off and out of the cafeteria before he could say anything. You left him sitting there, staring after you with a heartbroken expression. You’d never forgotten, you’d never turned him down before. Not until today anyway.
Eddie decided that he wouldn’t think too much of it. It was only the first time and maybe you really did have something else pressing to do. He wasn’t going to freak out yet; he was sure things would be back to normal order shortly.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Except Eddie was wrong. Very wrong.
Not only you had feigned that you’d forgotten movie night, you soon seemed to forget every plan and usual things done with Eddie. Whenever you saw him, you ducked around a corner or walked the other, or hid in the girls’ bathroom. You never answered the phone when he called your house, and never appeared to be home when he stopped by - which he knew was a lie. 
You’d gone from being thick as thieves to slowly drifting apart, and Eddie was scared that he was going to lose you forever. Maybe it was dramatic, but he couldn’t imagine a life without you in it….he’d even wager to say it wasn’t worth living. Call him dramatic, which you only did, but he wasn’t just going to accept you walking out of his life without some sort of answer. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was another afternoon of suffering through the mundane classes at Hawkins High. At least lunch afforded you some to go outside, to breathe and get some fresh air. You were sitting at a small table by yourself, sketchbook open and pencil in hand, but yourself found yourself lacking inspiration. It wasn’t until you looked up and stared off into the distance that you noticed Eddie. A small sigh escaped your lips as you watched him stalk off into his secluded little spot behind the school…with Chrissy in tow. 
The two of them were laughing about something, and that just served to make your blood boil. Why would Eddie even need you when he had pretty, perfect little Chrissy at his beck and call? He wouldn’t….he wouldn’t need you anymore. 
You slammed the sketchbook shut, but not before looking down at what you had mindlessly created. Of course. It was a quick sketch of Eddie, something you’d done a million times before, but today it just served to make the bile rise in your throat. 
This was harder than you ever dreamed it would be. You missed him…you really fucking missed him.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You almost jumped when the chair across from you was pulled out. It was a quiet afternoon in the library, and you’d been the only one working in there…until now. You looked up and frowned when you realized it was Eddie. He gave you a small smile before slipping into the seat, “hey.”
“I’m studying,” you pointed to your books as if it wasn’t obvious enough, “do you mind?”
“Are you coming to Hellfire tonight?” you’d skipped out on the last couple of meetings, feeding one of the younger boys some excuse as to why you weren’t able to make it. It seemed to placate them well enough, but Eddie wasn’t buying it. You sighed lightly before shaking your head.
“I can’t,” you lied, “I’ve got this big test I’m studying for, I just don’t have the time.”
“Funny,” he mused thoughtfully, “that’s exactly what you told Dustin last time.”
“I have multiple classes and different tests,” you hissed, “besides, they’re AP classes, which require more work than the same basic pre-calc class you’re taking for the third time.”
And oh. That was a shitty low blow and you both knew it. You hated how it sounded as soon the words left your mouth. You didn’t mean any of it - you were just angry and wanted him to leave you alone and figured that might work. But Eddie, steadfast and sweet Eddie, wasn’t moved. 
“This will be the third meeting in a row you’ve missed,” he whispered, “you know the rules - three missed meetings and you’re out. And rules are rules, even when it’s you.”
“Fine,” you grabbed your books and shoved them into your book bag, “kick me out then, that’s fine. I’ll live.”
Okay, there was absolutely something going on that you weren’t letting on about. Eddie knew you better than that; you’d never just miss Hellfire for no reason and just not care about being kicked out. That was absolutely not you.
“Wait -”
“No,” you hissed through gritted teeth and stalked out of the library. But Eddie wasn’t made. If anything, he was more determined to figure out what was going on. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was late but you weren’t sleeping just yet. You couldn’t - your mind was way too loud and incessant for that. Truthfully you hadn't slept well in weeks, but you’d adapted to living under a cloud of tiredness. 
It was the loud tapping at your window that snapped you wide away as you looked up from where your head bent down and stared at a textbook. You had no clue what the noise was, and wondered if you should ignore the sound. But then it came again and you knew that it wouldn’t stop until you examined what was going on. 
“You open the window, or I’ll do it myself,” the voice from outside reached your ears and you quickly pulled the curtains back. There was Eddie Munson, perched on the roof outside your window, ready to open the window himself.
“Eddie,” you decided to take mercy on him and opened it so he could come inside. He landed without any grace on your floor, almost tripped over his own feet, “it’s past midnight! What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see you,” he insisted and you sighed as you sat down on your bed, shaking your head at him. He dropped to his knees in front of you and reached for your hand, which you just pulled away, “what is going on, sweetheart? And don’t lie to me and say it’s nothing. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, and we both know it. I just want to know what I did, so I can fix it, I want to make things better. Please, let me fix it.”
“Eddie,” tears had already pearled up and run down your cheeks. Of course he wanted to make things better, he was still willing to try despite how terrible you’d been to him, “I-I don’t think you can fix it.”
“You don’t know that,” he insisted meekly, “you just have to tell me what it is.”
“It’s you,” you breathed and watched as his face turned into a look of confusion, “you’re the problem. And there’s no way to fix this, not anymore.”
“I’m the problem?” he looked so taken aback, so hurt. He had no clue what he could have done to hurt you or upset you, at least not knowingly. He’d never hurt you; he’d take the pain and brunt a million times over before letting you get hurt, “what do you mean? W-what did I do?”
You wiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and shook your head before exhaling shakily. You’d already made a fool out of yourself, might as well get it all out there in the open, “I’m in love with you.”
A heavy, thick silence fell over the two of you as he watched you closely and you just sniffled and looked anywhere but at him. He spoke up when he couldn't stand it anymore, “what’s so bad about that?”
“Eddie,” you turned back to him and noticed he had the softest and most gentle of smiles on his face. That just confused you more, “I can’t be your best friend and be so in love with you and watch you fawn over girls and date them and eventually…forget about me.”
“Wait, I’m confused…what do you mean other girls?” 
“Pretty girls, the ones that you like, like Chrissy,” you shrugged and tried to act like your heart wasn’t completely broken, “I saw you with her.”
“I don’t…I don’t like Chrissy,” he confessed as your brows knitted in confusion, “she’s nice and I was with her, to sell her some stuff for a party, and another time for some advice.”
“Everyone likes her…” you shrugged lightly, “you can tell me the truth, that you’re into her and all those other pretty cheerleaders. Besides, what advice could you possibly get from her? It’s fine if you’re into her, Eddie, it just…I don’t think I can be your friend and have to see you with her all the time. Maybe that’s really selfish, but it’s true.”
“Stop, please - just listen to me for a moment. I was asking her about you,” he professed and you looked to find his eyes searching you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times and Eddie took advantage to brush a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “because you’d been avoiding me and acting like you hate me. I was asking her what I could do to get you to talk to me again.”
“Oh…a-and what did she say?”
“She told me to be honest with you,” it was his turn to breathe shakily, his eyes soft but nervous, “to get it all out there and tell you that I’m in love with you.”
Your eyes snapped to his, positive you hadn’t heard him correctly. There was no way that he said what you had been so desperately wanting to hear for years. This had to be you trying to manifest your dream into reality. He laughed nervously when you didn’t say anything, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.
“What did you say?” your voice was so soft and small as you looked at him nervously, “Eddie?”
“I said I was in love with you,” he plopped onto the floor, sitting in front of you as he waited for you to say something - anything.
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes,” he promised, “of course I do. I’d never lie to you. I…I thought you knew, I thought it was so obvious. And then when you started pushing me away, I got scared. I thought I was going to lose you forever.”
You slid off the bed and flopped onto the floor so you were sitting across from him, your leg resting against yours. You swallowed the lump in your throat before leaning in to him, “I thought I was going to lose you forever too.”
He exhaled through his nose sharply, making a small sound of amusement before looking at you intensely, “so…where does that leave us? If you still don’t want anything to do with me, I can leave. Whatever you’d want, I respect.”
Your silence almost killed him as you seemed to be mulling over something. Every moment seemed to take an eternity as he waited for you to speak. He was braced and ready to leave, figuring you really were done with him.
But then, suddenly and surprising the both of you, you leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t even a proper kiss, more of a brush of lips, saccharine and shy. You sat back down, your entire face and body flushing with warmth as you looked at him nervously. You found the biggest and most lovesick smile on his face as his bambi eyes softened. 
He reached for you, his hands settling on your waist before he pulled you into his lap. You gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his action, finding yourself face to face with him. He settled a hand on your face, tenderly brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, sighing softly as the feel of his soft palm and calloused fingertips. 
He leaned in and you couldn't help but wonder what was coming next. Was he going to kiss you and then call it a day? Was he just going to leave? Was he-
Eddie quickly answered your question by kissing you, his hand going from your cheek to tenderly cup your neck. You leaned into his touch and let him take the lead. He didn't stop kissing you until you were dizzied and drunk off his touch. You imagined this so many times, and so many ways, but nothing compared to the real thing.
"I love you," he gently cradled your face in his hands and it felt like he was looking into the depths of your being, into your soul. You wrapped your hands around his wrists and blinked back your tears, “I mean it, sweetheart. It’s always been you. And I’m sorry that I ever did anything to make you like it wasn’t you.”
“It’s been you too,” you whispered softly, causing his cheeks to flush a pretty shade of pink, “always you, Eddie.”
“Fuck,” he sighed softly before kissing you again, “I’ve been waiting so long to hear you say that, sweetheart. You’ve been my dream girl since we met, you know.”
“That’s a strong way of putting it…” you wanted to hide your warm face, but he wouldn’t let you. He shook his head softly, clearly disagreeing with you.
“But it’s true,” he insisted softly, “can I kiss you again?”
“I don’t ever want you to stop,” you confessed sweetly, causing his heart to practically melt, “I want everything with you, Eddie.”
“Everything?”
“Everything,” you promised, taking advantage of his momentary shock to kiss him again. You could feel him smiling against your lips before he kissed along your jaw and down your neck, biting at the delicate skin to leave behind a haze of pretty lavender bruises. You already felt like you’d died and gone to heaven, “Eddie.”
“Can I make love to you?”
“Yes,” you pulled back to your lips and kissed him gently, “please.”
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