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theunaveragepsychoticbitch · 2 months

Text

This Fucks

[Dry humping, but it gets wet pretty fast. AMAB Reader. AFAB Barbie. Grinding, daydreaming, pussy eating, Barbs wears panties at the end, Barbs calls you Master, crack-ish. Standalone series]

Pt. 1

And then he'd ride you, fast and hard. He'd feel you through your boxers, through his own panties. He'd claw at your shoulders when you grinded against his clit just right and tears would fall as his eyes fluttered. He'd scream out-

"I guess you like the outfit?" And- wait, no, that's not what happens.

An amused huff punctuated your sentence, and as you eye him, several realizations hit him at once:

One, he was unbelievably wet. The throb of his clit and the uncomfortable wet feeling of his underwear clinging to his skin left him barely able to hold back a grimace, less he have to explain that to you too.

Two, he'd gone completely still in his daydream. How long had he been staring blankly at you, red in the face and just barely starting to breathe heavy? The only thing that could make this worse would be if he'd been wearing his summer uniform, the layers thin enough you'd have definitely seen his nipples perking through his shirt.

Third- he was wearing the summer uniform.

"Yes, I, it's very nice... my deepest apologies."

Your response comes paired with a toothy smile, and he swears he can feel himself getting wetter. "No problem, I know you have a lot on your plate. Hell, I'm distracting you right now, aren't I?"

You definitely were, just not in the way you think.

"I'll text you tonight then, Barbs. See you later~"

He nods, sad to see you go. You're his favorite distraction, his most coveted one easily. You probably think you were being a nuisance now.

Barbatos walks you out, waving and watching until you turned the corner out of sight. He sighs, locking the door behind him and heading straight for the nearest bathroom.

-------

He's baking cookies for you today. Soft, melty chocolate chip- just how you like it. In fact, he's baking a variety of pastries: donuts and cupcakes, all in your favorite flavors. He's making an "I'm sorry" basket for his shameful behavior the other day.

As he begins to glaze the donuts, hands drift over his waist, settling in place and pulling him closer- ass first -to your dick. He could feel it through your uniform; did you just get out of class? The lingering scent of potions gone right and wrong alike met his nose, and he chuckled, eyes crinckling at the corners when he smiles.

"You didn't even bother to change, I see."

Your lick the cuff of his ear, whispering into it. "Needed you too bad." By all nine of the circles. There was a greedy rasp in your voice, like you could barely speak through your own desire. Your hands got firmer as they slid down to hold his hips. Your thumbs massage circles into his ass as you give a few test thrusts, seeing how thick the material on his pants were.

He looks back to find you scrunching your brows as if in deep focus.

"I want these off." You say, your tone deadpan.

Barbatos jumps to obey, donuts completely forgotten, and you help him, shimmying his pants down as he undoes the buttons. You undo your own, and then it's briefs to boxers as you hump him, rocking him against the counter and making his eyes roll back. He's obsessed with the feel of it, how hard it is, leaving no room for mistaking how much you want him.

He's close, fuck, fuck, he's so close. You are too, going by the way your thrusts get more and more aggressive. Barbatos' eyes squeeze shut, and as his peak gets closer and closer, he can feel that tightening in his stomach, making him tense up right before the big-

His eyes spring open, immediately locking on where his hands have burst an entire piping bag of glaze onto one donut. Embarrassment at getting so caught up paints his face a lovely shade of rouge, getting even darker as he realizes that glazed donut holes are not the best distraction for... well, glazing (non) donut holes.

Once again, his underwear clings to his cunt, providing the slightest friction against his senstive clit as he moves about the kitchen, cleaning up his mess.

He sighs as, also once again, he makes his way to his room to clean up a different mess.

(–>Himself)

--------

"Fuck me, you're doing great 'batos."

Your hands are on his hips, helping him bounce on your clothed boner. You've barely got ten minutes- you both have places to be. Him, a meeting, you, a class. But that didn't stop you from sliding your pants to your knees and leaning heavily on a side table in one of the castle's many forgotten salons, nor him from showing you the pretty pink panties he put on today in the hopes you'd get to see them.

With your bulge fitted comfortably between his cheeks, he switched from bouncing to rolling, gyrating his hips and crying out like a whore as you groaned into his back, sinking your teeth into the blushed skin of his neck. Just low enough the collar of his uniform covers it, of course. You're nothing if not courteous.

As your blunt nails sink into his flesh, Barbatos starts to wonder if this is what insanity feels like. Delirium colored with the pinks and reds of lust, your groans like a mantra in his ears he can't, won't, get rid of. The ache of his own pussy consumes him- you're breathtakingly close, yet it's never enough for him. His greed is as constant as his heart beat, a steady rhythm of "more".

Your chest to his back, your breath on his ear. He'd soaked through his panties long ago and knew they'd be nothing short of ruined when he came. Cumming on your cock, even through your clothes... it was so good. God, you felt-

"-so good! Thank you by the way, I never would have fixed that without you."

And just like that, the time demon returns to the present.

------

Despite the cold of the room, sweat rolls down the back of his neck as he thinks,

'What am I supposed to tell you this time?'

Barbatos can feel you staring at him, but it seems the floor is particularly interesting today. He can't keep his eyes off it- or rather, he can't keep his eyes on you.

A faint sunset pink dusts his cheeks, and in a manner much unlike his usual held-together persona, he fiddles with the edges and fingers of his gloves, tapping his foot against the shining wooden floors and licking his lips a rather unnecessary amount.

"Nervous?"

He chuckles when you ask, but there's no humor in it. He still doesn't look at you. He wishes he could go back to work. He's on his break right now, which he usually doesn't take, but took advantage of for your sake. It's only thirty minutes, but it feels like hours.

"There's no need for anxiety, Barbs. I just wanna talk..." You trail off into silence, polite on your part, suffocating on his. Leaning over, you take a sip out of the tea you personally prepared for this occasion. It held not so much as a candle to Barbatos', of course, but you thought it'd be a good change of pace for something like this.

'They're gonna hate me.'

He's so sure of it, not even a peek into the future would change his mind. You'd learn of his disgusting habits and shame him, then tell him you never wanted to see him again. It was inevitable.

"Barbatos,"

He tenses involuntarily at hearing his name.

"You've been distant lately, you know?" You watch his face as you talk, speaking slowly and gently, as if trying to calm a scared animal. "Avoiding me so actively that everyone has noticed, making excuses everytime I ask to hang out, and disassociating when we actually do. What's happening to us? Did I do something wrong?"

'Fuck.'

The thought is followed by budding tears in his eyes. He's ruined everything, and to top it off, you think it's your fault.

What the hell was he supposed to say to you?

"My apologies Master, I find myself lost in thoughts of your dick sandwiched between my asscheeks."?

Get serious.

....but as his own voice meets his ears, things do get serious. Very, very, very quickly.

The room empties of sound, not even a breathe to be heard. But as loud as his heartbeat is in his ear, there's no way you're deaf to it.

How the fuck did he accidentally say that aloud? Of all God-forsaken things-

"I... are you serious?"

For the first time since entering the room, he looks at you. Your face is oddly.... blank. He can't read your eyes, but your posture is rigid as you rest your forearms on your knees, hands tightly clasped around a small teacup.

There's no use lying now. It'd only serve to make things more awkward. This was his punishment, he was sure of it- to die in flames of embarrassment, haunted by this day for the rest of forever.

"I... suppose there are more choice words to be used. But yes. I want you quite badly, Master. Need you, even. And it's ruining my immortal life." The last part is no more than a whisper, but you hear him as though he yelled it.

"I know I've ruined our relationship. I've let your kindness go to my head, and find myself unsatisfied with standing quietly behind you. I wish to be by your side."

He's said so much, too much, but it's as if the words run from his mouth on their own. He bites down, almost drawing blood as his fangs dig into the soft skin.

You're silent, still as unreadable as a closed book. He feels out of place in his skin under your gaze. It's unwavering strength begins to unnerve him as he prepares for a verbal beating.

"Beside me, or under me?"

He'd say it's his turn to be speechless, but the shit eating grin on your face makes him think you knew exactly what you were going to say a long time ago.

Nevertheless, he answers seriously. Thinking back, it may have been the shock that made him answer so honestly.

"..both."

You smile wider, a wild look in your eyes.

"Both is good."

And in the following seconds, Barbatos was hit with realizations of several things, once again:

One, you were messy. The table was cleared of dishwear, utensils and food alike in a quick swipe of your arm. Hopefully, you didn't expect him to help clean it up later.

Two, you weren't and never have been a weakling. You lifted him with an ease he'd only seen out of Beezlebub, or Diavolo. Despite his size, he was pure muscle, and quite heavy. But you didn't even break a sweat as you held him bridal and layed him out on the table, gentle as a lover should be.

Three- it was just as big as he'd imagined.

You fit yourself between his legs, holding them wide open as you grabbed his waist to pull him to you. You whisper under your breath, and the lights flicker before dimming down. Your eyes are alight with something that scared him as much as it aroused him. It was bright, fierce, hot. Like passion, but so much more intense. It had to be in your blood, pumping throughout your whole body and heating your skin till it burned at the touch.

Scorching fingers caressed him through his clothes, dragging down his torso as if imagining how easily they could rip through the fabric, the shreds joining the shards of glass on the floor. Your bulge pressed into him more and more as you tried to get closer, as though dizzy-headed with the thought of fucking him deep.

God, he wanted you to fuck him deep. Maybe he was the dizzy-headed one.

"What did you dream about, Barbatos? Tell me everything, my love."

'Such a sweet talker.' He thought. But he lied if he said it didn't make his pussy throb.

"You had me just like this... with your face in my neck, telling me things, as you..." He blushes, and it encourages you closer. Chest to chest, your voice is a sultry whisper in his ear. "As I what, darling?"

He gulps audibly, nervous fingers grasping the sides of your shirt. You can hear a tremble in his voice, "You... you were dry humping me. Slow, but hard, and relentless. There were tears in my eyes."

He doesn't know what he expected, can't explain why his breath caught in his throat when you began to rock, slow, but hard. One hand cradled his face as he closed his eyes tight, overwhelmed by the drag of your cock over his clothes. You were pressing on his clit just right, even through the layers. Again...again, again, hah, agai-

"Ah!" He moaned out as you pressed especially hard. Your other hand was on his hip, and the bruising grip made him think you wanted this too more than anything else you've done so far. If he had to put it into words- you held him like you didn't think you'd ever get the chance.

"Fuck... tell me what I said, Barbatos."

It takes a few seconds, and when he finally finds his voice, his speech is interrupted by gasps of pleasure. "I.. hell, you- you told me how good I felt. That- fuck, Master- that you needed me. All the things you'd been waiting- hah, to do to me."

You kiss his neck, your voice low in his ear, but your words loud in his heart and mind. "You're perfect, Barbatos. Can you feel it? How hard you get me? Just looking at you- it drives me insane. Makes me wanna make you feel good."

The hand on his hip moves to undo his pants. He claws at your back as you speed up your strokes. "I'd go so deep, baby. Make you see stars. I wanna fuck you till you're sleep, till I'm the only thing you think of, till you call out of work."

You stop your administrations, and in the blink of an eye, Barbatos finds his panties are out where you can see them.

And yes- he is wearing the pretty pink ones.

"I'm gonna fuck you till you need me."

Like the asshole you are, you're much more gentle with your own clothes, getting them off just as fast yet leaving them mostly whole. Your dick twitches against the constraints of your briefs. It makes Barbatos salivate, the thought of having all of it on his tongue, down his throat, making him gag and cry. In his pussy, bruising his cervix and-

Why was he still imagining things, when the real thing was right in front of him?

Quick as ever you flip him on his stomach, smirking at how wet and sticky his panties have gotten. In this position, the fat lips pressed against the thin fabric in a way only describable as lewd. You drag a single finger down his slit, starting from his asshole and stopping at his clit. Watching him shiver as you dragged it back up, tremble as you go back down again. The shocked way he squeaks and grabs the table as you press on his clit.

You can't see his face when you put your own in it, licking him through the cloth, but you can definitely hear him. He's unabashedly loud, his hips acting on their own. Sloppy kisses make him squeal, and long strokes of your tongue make him moan. When you suck on his clit, he calls your name, a desperate cry that thanks you even as it begs for more.

"[Name], Cum- cumming. I'm-"

Your hand snakes down to grope at your dick as you eat him faster. You can taste him; his essence is all across your tongue and it's absolutely euphoric. He rocks a little harder every time you whisper how good he tastes into his clit, cries a little louder. You can hear how hoarse his voice is getting though. His screams are shadows of what they were, the scrape of his voice against his throat sending shocks through you. It all makes you suck him a lil harder.

And then he arches into your mouth, cumming on your tongue with a sultry moan from deep in his chest. Your eyes roll as liquid gold coats your tastebuds, the aftertaste like a mouthful of diamonds. Angelic whimpers meet your ears, and you can't help overstimulating him as you work to not waste a drop.

Barbatos swears that hours pass, but your clean up job only lasts a few more minutes. His head is heavy and light at the same time, not a thought to be found among the thick sex haze.

He feels like you shared your fire with him, the burning power shocking his nerves and waking his body up even as you suck him to sleep. Everything's so sensitive, too sensitive, yet you keep going...

Gods, please keep going....

Then you stop. He's left ass up and face down as you catch your breath. His own chest heaves, the tears that fell drying on his face or pooling between his cheek and the table. He should be worried about that, what a mess you'd made of him, of the room, of everything. But the only thing he could focus on was your breath, far too close to his sensitive, throbbing cunt.

Barbie's hips were bruised to the touch, yet he couldn't manage so much as a wince when you grabbed them again. You were much gentler this time, at least.

You pull him into your lap, a glimmer in your eye as his head lolls on your shoulder.

Slowly, tantalizingly so, you grind up into him. Weak he may be, he still tries to grip your wrists, settling for loosely wrapping his fingers around them. He feels your head come to a rest on his shoulder, and your hands move to interlock with his, dragging them with you as you wrapped both of your arms around his torso.

Borderline chaste kisses were peppered across his shoulders and neck as a pace was set. Barbatos didn't think he could take it- being humped like a whore, then grinded on mid-embrace like a lover dearly missed. The butterflies in his stomach stirred at the mix of emotions pumping through him, filling him with a ticklish, fluttery feeling that made giggles spill from his throat.

"...off."

He hums his confusion, and you try to be a little louder.

"Can I take these off?"

Your voice is a romantic whisper in his ear as you nod towards his panties, soaked through and leaving nearly nothing to the imagination by this point.

You asked so politely, and you made him feel so light, he couldn't find it in him to say no.

He blushes, and nods.

His panties are off in a snap! , pink pussy finally exposed. Now, his arousal soaked your briefs directly, and the twitch it gave at being so close to his warmth felt brand new.

The feel of the cold air against his hot cunt made him choke and sit up, breatheless gasps escaping in a flurry as you stroked the squishy lips, ghosting over his clit to circle his hole.

He watched your fingers drag arousal from his hole to where his bud ached, flicking it and making him cry. The tears streaked his skin as they fell fast down his cheeks. Watching you seemed to make it more intense, seeing exactly how your skilled fingers moved to bring him such electrifying pleasure.

Oh hells, you'd started moving again too. Your labored breathing was felt against his back as you grinded into him

t desperately. Your hips worked like you needed this, needed him, needed to cum against his cunt and take him over the edge with you.

Your fingers sped up as you strained to keep your pace steady, the jerk of your legs getting worse and worse as you got closer. Barbatos could feel how you twitched against the briefs, and even in his weakness, tried to meet your thrusts in the middle, rubbing his sensitivity pussy along your bulge and making himself sob at the intensity.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-

Heavy breathes and heady gasps filled the room as your stomachs started to lock with lightning. Barbatos was seeing stars, felt like he was one. Exploding with pleasure, bright as the sun and just as blinding. There wasn't a thought in his head as your grunts and moans became more frequent, the open mouthed kisses you planted on his ear and neck making his eyes roll. Your free hand left his hip and made for his nipple, and with an aggressive twist, it was over.

The two of you exploded in sync like a supernova of catastrophic levels, the orgasm rawing both of your throats as each other's names rang in the air. The flames in your blood were slowly doused, leaving your skin as sticky as it was sweaty- and it was very much so both.

Neither of you can breathe, so you pant between sloppy kisses. Weak arms wrap around your neck as your hands tangle in sweat-soaked hair, drool escaping down the sides of your lips. He can taste himself on your tongue still, his essence making your spit stick to your lips a little more. The sight spurred him more, until exhaustion truly wracked you both, dropping your bodies to the table in a mere moment.

Barbatos couldn't find any talking words. He's not quite sure what he could say- "hey, that was pretty nice, albeit unexpected?"

"Yeah, hah, that's one way to put it."

He has got to get control of that.

Your eyes were already closed when he looked up at you, using all his strength to do so. You whispered, mumbled really, and he strained to listen through the haze still clouding his mind.

"....beautiful, Barbatos. Everything... you. We have to do this again.... day when you're actually free."

Remembering he was far overdue to return to his position should have sent him into shock, or perhaps cardiac arrest, but he found all he could do was sigh. The castle would be fine without him for a couple hours... and it's not like they had any guests today...

Barbatos yawned, his head getting heavier and heavier with the rhythmic movement of your chest. A quick glance showed you to already be asleep, your peaceful expression painting a smile across his face.

His last image before drifting off is of you, with a single line of drool slowly slipping out the corner of your mouth.

--------

A/N: IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR A WEEK. AHHHHHHHHHHH

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #sub barbatos #obey me barbatos smut #barbatos #barbatos smut #shall we date barbatos #obey me shall we date #barbatos obey me #unaveragewrites #sub obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 months

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Since you named it in the Halsin x Ace!tav headcanons, now please do also gale because I'm curious!

- a very ace ⚙️

Alright, by popular(ish) demand:

How Ace!Tav Reacts When They Realize Gale is Into Them

An expansion on this headcanon: Ace!Tav's Reaction to Halsin Propositioning Them

Based on: Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist

Okay, now I feel bad because I feel like I've thrown my man Gale under the bus for this, but it really isn't his fault, just a lot of miscommunication

This one is a slower build since Gale is just in the party longer and it's just how he roles

Ace!Tav and Gale form a connection fairly early on

Tav knows they're not the most book smart and so does regularly ask Gale for his input (or to read them something without asking any questions)

Gale is happy to be useful, and just so thrilled to have somebody beside his cat who will listen

This is probably where the miscommunication begins

Gale takes their active listening, and ability to recount the information he taught them as a sign of deeper interest while Tav actively listens because that's just what they do

They're a bard who never learned how to read, listening is the only way they learn anything, plus they have a memory like steel trap

This all comes to a head at the tiefling party

Astarion approaches Tav about having a "night of passion" which Tav turns down because it's obviously not their thing, and they don't really want to have that conversation with Astarion; why spoil a good thing (read I Want I All for more on that subject)

And then Gale says he wants to show them how to experience the weave later that evening and so, they decide to go with him

Tav knows they're in touch with the weave through their music, but never fully understood why or how, only that it works, so to have Gale show them is an experience they can't pass up

Besides, they know how passionate he is about it, who would they be to deny him

So, Gale shows them the weave and when he asks them to picture the concept of harmony, what they imagine is music, the way it fills their body and brings them peace; melody strumming not just through their ears but their whole body into their soul

It's an intimate sensation, one they haven't been able to express with words and for a moment Gale feels it

He tells them he feels like he owes them an apology for being at bit...well, dismissive of their form of magic, it's truly beautiful

And then Tav sees it, a flash of his own mind, and the anticipation of a kiss

That snaps them right out of it, letting the weave disappear around them

Gale, realizing what they saw, is quick to apologize but the moment is ruined and the pair of them quickly make their way back to their own tents to wallow and over think

Tav feels unbelievably guilty, not helped by Astarion's comments the next morning

Astarion isn't jealous, why would he be? But he can't help but ask what Tav and the wizard got up to, using every teasing innuendo he can think of

Tav finally snaps and tells him nothing happened and that they need to talk to Gale

Gale has been properly wallowing and keeping unnaturally silent until Tav pulls him aside to talk

Gale once again apologizes, but he really did think there was a connection between the two of them

He knows he's not much of a wizard these days and he's also very well aware that there is something going on between them and Astarion, but he did hope...well, no point in that is there

Tav feels even more guilty, but is quick to assure him he did nothing wrong, they just don't see him that way

In truth, what they really want, in the deepest part of their hearts, is to be his friend; to be honest, they don't have that many

Gale tells them, "Somehow I doubt that. I can't imagine you being lonely"

Tav only gives him a sad smile, saying "what can I say, I contain multitudes"

Gale sees it then, that they are, in fact, lonely and for a moment sees it in himself; that maybe his feelings he started to develop really do come from that same place of loneliness

Tav watches him carefully asking, "have I hurt you terribly?"

Gale shakes his head, "just a bit bruised, nothing that won't heal. Admittedly, I think it's more my ego than my heart"

He assures them that he does value their friendship, he just might need a minute to recover

He also tells them that whoever they do give their heart to better know how valuable it truly is

It does take Gale a little time to come back to himself, but eventually he's able to become a true friend to Tav with none of the remaining awkwardness

He also makes a point to assure Astarion of the same thing after he senses the vampire glare one too many daggers into his back

As much fun as it is to tease Astarion, he doesn't want to have to sleep with one eye open, if he can help it

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale x ace!tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x ace!tav #asexual!tav #bard!tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep x tav #astarion x reader #asexual!reader #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x evie #gale x evie

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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

Text

Day Two

Summary: You kept all the love you had to yourself for safe keeping. Until Miguel comes along. A/N: did i forget to make more valentine oneshots? yes and what about it Miguel x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Drabble

After failed relationship and another failed relationship, you began to think that maybe love just wasn’t in your cards. Maybe you were always meant to love instead of be loved. It was hard accepting that. You coped with it as much as you could but in the deepest part of your heart you hoped someone could prove you wrong just this once. You’d look in the mirror and try to find something of yourself that someone could find beautiful but you always came up short. The pain was still there, a dull ache that served as a reminder that no matter what you changed about yourself, it was never enough to make them stay. So you stopped trying and you stopped hoping. You lived your life day to day, doing small things that you like and any ounce of your heart speeding up at seeing a stranger was quickly demolished for the safety of your feelings. So that’s why even when the handsome and tall stranger sat across from you at the cafe, you tried not to pay any mind to him. You ignored the way your heart leaped when his foot accidently bumped into yours, his deep voice murmuring a soft apology. You ignored the next few times where you’d sit at your usual spot and he'd sit right across from you either with a laptop, a book or a phone in his hand. You ignored how he always sat with you silently even when other tables were open. You ignored how he eventually ordered the same drink you got every time as if wanting to try it. You ignored how sometimes, he’d be there before you, sitting up straighter when you sat in front of him. You ignored it until you couldn’t. After a long hour of silence, he puts his book down and taps the table to get your attention. “I’m sorry,” He says. “I’ve been thinking you’re very pretty and I’d like to get to know you.” At first you’re repulsed. Not at him, but how he perceives you as worthy enough to know. You don’t understand it. He sees your reluctance and pulls away. “Unless you wouldn’t want to.” Your heart strains in the same ache as before. You don’t want to be cold, you don’t want to be seen as rude or mean because of your guarded heart–not anymore. You yearn for companionship despite your mind screaming at you not to. It’s dangerous. “Okay. Sure.” You speak softly, not used to being approached in a romantic manner in so long. You continue with your naive hoping. Maybe this time it will hurt less.

At first you were awkward with him and he was awkward with you. It seemed like neither of you knew how to start this relationship other than initial attraction. You learned his name was Miguel and that he was studying to be a geneticist at Alchemax. You were fairly good at science, not at his level but you tried to keep up which made him chuckle. You worried you said something stupid but he assured you that you were just cute trying. He invited you to spend a day in the town, just to walk around and maybe buy you things that you liked. You declined his offer, not wanting to come across as some gold digger when Miguel waves you off saying that he wanted to. You refused the entire day. Anything you wanted, you made sure he wasn’t at the register or at least held your card out first. You couldn’t risk him turning on you and claim that you spent all his money. Miguel noticed, of course. Despite your attempts at being more friendly, it wasn’t exactly romantical. That didn’t diminish his interest in you though. It only made him more curious. Who did this to you to make it seem like you couldn’t rely on anyone? So, when he led you to the playground just outside the town, in a park where others were walking dogs and running jogs, he offered you two seats at the swings. The sky was near its point of a sunset, blue slowly turning into an orange yellow that calms your mind. It was a little funny when you turned to face Miguel in his swing seat. His shoulders could barely fit between the chains that held it up and his knees were almost up to his chest. You giggled to yourself at the sight and he turned to give you a sheepish smile, a little embarrassed of how he was most definitely not fit for it.

It was a comfortable silence as you both swung gently just enough for a breeze to flow through. You don’t notice Miguel glance at your hands in your lap and how you’re trying not to pick at the skin at the corner of your fingernails. Miguel sighed and looked at his own lap, as squished as it was. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.” He whispers softly. You turn your head slightly to see him in the corner of your eye. He pulls at his pant leg nervously. “I’m not used to…this romance stuff,” He glances up at you. “So I’m sorry if I’ve done anything wrong.” You feel your heart swell in the worst way possible. Your efforts to protect yourself had hurt someone else. “No,” You shake your head. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just…I haven’t been on one in a long time either.” Miguel laughs through his nose. “Then I guess we’re both still kinda new to this,” He looks up to the sunset. It’s now an orange pink. “But I’m still sorry. My last relationship wasn’t great. Toxic behavior and all that. I felt like I couldn’t be me. And in some way, I’m still doing that even today with you. Trying to be someone I’m not by being overly…pushy about wanting you to be satisfied with me.” He murmurs. “I didn’t think you were pushy,” You explain, feeling your cheeks burn about opening up. “I’m not used to someone being kind to me because they want to. It’s more what I can offer or what kind of reaction they want out of me.” It’s silent for a while and you begin to think that you’ve messed up again. Talked too much, spilled too soon, you’ve ruined the image he’s had of you.

“I think…you deserved better,” Miguel says, turning to you and reaching for your pinky with his. “I’m still interested and I want to keep seeing you, if that’s okay.” He interlocks your pinkies together softly, giving you enough room to pull away. You feel the ache in your chest lifts just a little bit knowing he’s just as nervous and scared as you are but he still wants your heart even if it’s damaged. You gain the courage to let the love in your heart seep out to him and squeeze his pinky in yours. “Okay.” You smile at him and he mirrors it with his own. It won’t hurt less this time because you have a feeling with him it won’t hurt at all.

A/N: a little self indulgent w this one whew

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

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belokhvostikova · 10 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Tuesday was the development between you and Eddie Munson. Wednesday, peace finally seems plausible for the two hurt kids, and understanding becomes a valued aspect.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, implications to verbal abuse, self deprecating thought, mentions of anxiety, bulling, parent abandonment, domestic abuse, and childhood abuse and neglect.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I've gone back to all my posts and tagged everyone for the tag list. Literally. If you commented, I tagged you. If you reblogged and remotely mentioned you wanted more, I tagged you. If you were not looking to be tagged, please let me know so I can remove you. Also, I sincerely apologize to anyone who I've accidently been excluding from the tag list, that was my mistake.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐕. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐲

There was no investment in moral quandary for him. Logicality. Everything had to be logical under the guise that all faults of the world had been facilitated by the emission of emotions that tainted the globe.

Feelings were wrong. Sentiment was wrong. Empathy was wrong.

He believed it was such vulnerability that led to the downfall of his life- not that he’d ever verbally admit his life had crumbled right in front of him, but a pit within the deepest tunnel of his consciousness recognized it. Drilled it. Cemented it. He had chosen to blame the emotions of amenability for the reason why his wife came home at four in the morning with the familiar scent of the neighbor’s cologne. From there, he knew to get rid of it. Emotions. So when you sobbed, asking why mommy hadn’t been home for a couple of days, he said it was not worth crying over. When you had to stand in court upon a scary looking man in a robe and hear mommy agree to only seeing you every other weekend, he said to not worry and suck it up. And when mommy stopped picking up calls and seemingly “forgot” it was her day to see you, he said to get over it. But maybe it wasn’t too bad, right? He always said to be grateful that, at least, he stuck around. At the minimum, he always provided good take-out often, though you were quick to realize it was because he had no desire to cook for you. But, hey, he had always let you watch TV during dinner. Granted, it was because he never sat with you, and chose the comfort of the living room couch, where you could always see the history channel playing from the archway of the dining room where you sat lonely. It was then, you got a deep understanding of the Civil War. And at least his stoicism permitted a great hatred for the presuppositionalism that had infiltrated Hawkins, Indiana. That was good, right? Though, you were never one to define metaethics through divine revelation, so it kinda didn’t matter. But it could be worse. He always said he could be worse. That his choice to deprive you from any physical harm was somehow enough to garner him some merit as a parent.

And maybe that was one of the underlying reasons as to why Eddie Munson scared you so much. He was like your father. And your father scared you.

Mid week. The morning of spring Wednesday had been a groggily dawn of humidity and fog. Though no weather circumstance could derail the perfected routine of your father’s morning. Wake up, shower, brush teeth, make coffee. Black, no sugar. The bitterer, the better. Because that was by true definition strong.

It was like clockwork. Every morning. Because routine leads to success, he's ingrained. It was the only reason why every summer break since you were a child he had you waking up before sunrise with intentions of appearing downstairs for two hours of study time with a tutor he spent hours meticulously searching for that fit his standards. One with saggy cheeks, thin eyebrows, a thick accent, and a bad habit of reprimanding you with a smack of a ruler whenever you humanly made a mistake. The worst thing that could happen in his eyes was watching his daughter slack because of relaxation over summer. Especially after he programmed you into perfection.

But the unthinkable had occurred, and his routine was interrupted.

Between 6:30 a.m and 6:45 a.m, your father was set—like everyday—to retrieve the morning paper, sit down, set the timer, and complete the crossword puzzle. Ten minutes. Nothing more.

But by 6:33 a.m, Eddie Munson was nearly murdered by your father.

Oh, his girl. Of course, there was his sweetheart, Eddie was damn near devoted to that warlock, but then there was his girl. Definitely not the everloving relationship he had with his sweetheart, I mean, he touched her, and the harmonious sounds from her strings could elevate the pain of his mind, but there was still no doubt that a sentimental part of his heart was dedicated to his girl. Rusted and cranking, the old van had been gifted to the young man after countless hours committed to Harry’s Auto Shop over the summer. And though her imperfections nearly had him pulling the roots of his hair out of his head weekly, she still managed to get him from point A to point B—not to mention, she looked totally sick and provided the best comfort place to spark up a joint or spend time with a pretty boy or girl whenever the opportunity came (it never did).

But besides that, the moral of the story is his van, his girl, was deeply cared for.

Except for the occasions of last night.

Because right now, your father was wrinkling the informative pages of the daily news with a tight grip of pure seethe, because some dirty, gross van had parked over the curb of his property and ruined the pristine, clean-cut, green lawn with muddy tire tracks.

You had heard it all.

The blaring alarm at 5:45 a.m, the running shower from your father’s bathroom, and the heavy steps of his feet descend into the kitchen.

Exhaustion couldn’t fathom the ache of your body, as the fluffy duvet beneath you held no substance to the stiffening floor underneath. Not to mention, the heavy sorrow of the events that had only occurred a couple hours prior were relying heavy in your mind, prompting the loss of true sleep, made only worse when Eddie’s drunken snores were echoing as a constant reminder that he was right there.

Eddie Munson was in your bed- Eddie Munson was in your bed!

The ever so slight glimmer of the awakening sun was bleeding upon his sleeping figure, almost dead with no movement. He hadn’t shifted an arm or a leg, mouth still agape from his roaring slumber with a puddle of drool staining your satin pillow. You’d timidly approached the edge of your bed, knees scraping along the rough floor to reach his peaceful face. The disheveled bangs of his forehead had crumpled against themselves, shielding him from the oozing light through your window.

This was the calmest Eddie Munson had been in weeks.

No lumps in the mattress, an actual comforter, the pungent stank of his cigarettes now replaced with the captivating vanilla scent of your perfume, which eased him into a comfortable sleep and an all too real dream where you were in his arms. It felt scaringly natural.

There was a part of you that didn’t want to wake him. Whether it was because you could take an hour studying his pretty face, which led you to wondering how anyone could even fathom being so nasty to something so beautiful, or whether it was because that childhood anger and nestling vexation against a world that hated him was still deeply residing within Eddie, and you could easily fall victim to such hatred. It happened before, it could happen again.

You rested your head against your bed, a slight alleviation to the malaise of the floor, and let his warm breathing fan across your face. The tips of your fingers benevolently stroked the unruly strands of his bangs away, to reveal the fluttering eyes of his face. You wondered what he could be dreaming of.

You.

You were all he could think of. Awake and asleep.

“Eddie.” You softly whispered. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best choice given his hangover coma, but Eddie needed gentleness. “Hey, wake up.” You shook his shoulder. A pained groan prolonged far longer than you expected, as his face scrunched in a wince of a pounding headache. “Are you okay?”

That was too real for any dream. Eddie’s dry eyes snapped at the sound of your saccharine voice, suddenly realizing the devastating events that occurred last night. “Sh-shit!” He attempted to sit up, but your hand held his arm back.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You cooed, as he peered around frantically confused. He cracked his neck with a sharp turn, and his big eyes landed on you; once again, comforting him, as though he hadn’t put you through hell in the mere days he’s communicated with you.

His head fervently began shaking, as if to reject all that he’d done, as if everything he ever did you to was just a nightmare of his own fears, that he didn’t do what he did. But he did. And his eyes started welling up. “I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He choked. “For everything, I didn’t- I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Shh, Eddie-”

“I don’t want to scare you, and I’m s-sorry for doing it in the first place, I’m so so fucking so-”

“Eddie, just lay down, it’s okay.” You attempted to ease into him, as you lowered him down, his begrudgement leaving him hesitating until his back was flat against your bed.

Once relaxed, it seemed his body and mind gave up on the restraints of his emotions, and his stream of tears came pouring with all dejection and regret of how everything had played out between you two. Eddie Munson hated himself. Hated who he was. Someone set up for the failures of life, he rejected anything that could steer him from a path of love and acceptance. And he hated that. He hated the life he had. At any given opportunity to go back in time, he would scream at his father, hit his father, just get him and his mother away from his father so that he could just grow up to be a normal person. A normal person, who could process their emotions and not deduce themselves into a nihilistic asshole. A normal person, who wouldn’t degrade the only person who’s held him without hurting him. A normal person, who would love you and cherish you as you deserved. Yet Eddie Munson hated his life and hated any momentous occasion that could possibly diminish the pain of life… like you. Because good things don’t happen to Eddie Munson, and you held so much power to hurt him.

Seeing his palms stab into his eyes, you gently held his trembling wrist to relieve him from the pain he believed he deserved. “Come on, Eddie, please stop.” You softly spoke trying to ease his hands away from his face. “Everything is okay, I promise.”

“N-no, it’s not!”

“Shh!” You rushed out. “My dad’s awake downstairs.” You whispered.

“S-sorry.” He spoke so meekly, as his hands cleaned the staggering wetness of his eyes and cheeks.

The atmosphere between you both fell stagnantly silent, as he tried to control his breathing through the tiny sniffles of his nose. He felt you staring, eyes boring into the side of his head, as he peered up at the dark ceiling. He couldn’t stand to look at you right now. He had just drunkenly sobbed and was now blubbering like a child, because of all the bullshit he just put you through. He was a-fucking-shamed. Ashamed of all he’s done. Ashamed of who he was. And you were seeing the worst of it.

“Eddie.” He closed his eyes and shook his head no. “Please.”

He slowly turned his head and met your tired yet so fucking beautiful face. God, he could stare at you forever. How could he do this to you? Put you through off of that, just because he was scared. He fucking hated himself, and you could so clearly see the despise against himself in his saddened eyes. I’m sorry I am the way that I am, I’m sorry you have to put up with me, I’m sorry I’m here ruining your life. He didn’t have to say it, it was engraved on his face.

His heart almost lunged out of his chest when you crept closer, noses nearly touching, as your eyes engulfed him with a meaningful stare. “I’m really glad you came.”

“What?” You truly couldn’t have been, but your head nodded with the soothing confirmation he needed.

“Yeah, I am.” You whispered.

“You shouldn’t be.” He whispered. “What I did was awful.”

“I know.” You sighed. “I know, and please don’t ever do that again. But I’m still glad you came. Glad that we talked. Glad that I got to understand.”

“I wish I told you sooner… and better.” He pinched his eyes closed at the haunting memory. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you, I’m so fucking sorry I did.”

“I know you are.” There was no “it’s fine” or forgiveness to offer, because he truly did cross a line that terrified you. But you could accept his understanding of the wrongdoing he did. Because acknowledgement was a valuable step in moving forward.

“I just- Y/N, I just really want to be with you.” There it was. He was putting himself out there once and for all, risking it, because you deserved to know. The torment of his emotional unavailability was ending, because he was ready to face the adversity of his trauma to make you happy. But that was exactly the issue. You could see he was ready to do it for you. Not himself. And whatever was brewing between you and Eddie Munson would not magically dissolve the underlying issue within both of you under the guise that you both got together and skipped away into the sunset happily ever after. Reality was a harsh slap in the face, and you knew he’d hate it, but it was what was needed.

“I just want you to be okay, Eddie.” You confided with a heavy bite of your lip. “I… want to be okay, Eddie.”

His eyes were glossing with threatening tears again. He knew what was coming. “You don’t wanna be with me.” He murmured. It was no question, but a simple truth he had to face.

“No.” You spoke with deep conviction. “I don’t want to be with the person you are right now. I can’t be. Not now. It wouldn’t be right, and I just want us to be okay.” You brushed his bangs away. His lips began trembling, but he accepted your boundaries with a vehement nod to his head to let you know he understood. “Eddie,” you punctuated so it became cemented, “I don’t want you to do this again-”

“I won’t, I swear, I won’t drink-”

“No, Eddie… I don’t want you coming here. To my house. To see me.” You sighed, as his eyes desperately scanned your face for the off chance you’d say you were kidding and you wanted him over all the time. But your words continued.

“I’m really fucking sorr-”

“I know you are, Eddie. I know.” A heavy breath from your chest escaped. “But I need time, and it may not seem like it now, but you need time, too. So I don’t want you calling. I don’t want you asking anyone where I am or how to talk to me. Not Chrissy, not anyone. Promise me.”

He agreed.

But Eddie Munson would break this promise. Not for some drunken, overbearing, emotional reason, though. But for good reason. All because your bedroom door slammed open.

Synchronized through driven fear, yours and Eddie’s head snapped at the sudden bust of your bedroom door, where your father stood effervesce with indignation of pure enragement at the sight of Eddie in your bed.

“Get out of my house!”

“Dad, wait!”

Your words were not of care to your dad, as he shoved you onto the ground with a shriek of horror escaping your lungs, as he charged himself onto your bed. The shot of adrenaline had coursed out any inebriations from the night before, as Eddie went against the swelling pounding of his head to jump from the comfort of your sheets and tumble onto the floor.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Imprinted with the mud of his shoes, the pool of his drool, and now crumbled under the heavy weight of your father’s fall, the sanctity of your bed—the only thing that had caressed you through the hardships of your life, where you found solace in the safety of its soft cotton and silk, where your mother once cuddled you to sleep as she spoke of the future, I’m gonna lay your pretty prom dress right on the bed and watch you become so beautiful for your special night, where you cried yourself to sleep for countless night because she left you and she didn’t actually want to see you become so beautiful for your special night—had demised under the ruins of men who made you bawl your eyes out and made you feel so little about yourself. And maybe your bed being derelict was a cursory occasion to cry over, maybe it wasn’t; nonetheless, your eyes began to brim with the flooding tears of the overstimulated stress of an exhausted mind, dry eyes, and a splitting heart.

“Please stop.” Too quiet and airy for any big, angry, men to hear.

Because big, angry, men don’t care for the aching pain of the people they hurt.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…” Eddie stumbled onto wobbly feet, planting the palms of his hands to stand himself away from your reaching father. “M’so fuckin’ sorry!” At that point, the directions of his words were either targeted to you or your father, you couldn’t decipher, and truthfully, you didn’t care to decipher.

Your father managed to unravel himself from the hold of your blankets, stepping off with heavy stomps to follow Eddie around your room. “You better get out of my fucking house, I’m fucking calling the cops! How dare you fucking touch my daughter?!”

“Dad, please.” Weak, broken, unheard.

“I fuckin’ didn’t!” Eddie was fortunate enough to spot his beloved jacket, snatching it from the confines of your desk chair, where he was able to roll it out as an obstruction to your father’s determined path of strangling Eddie Munson.

Because in the mind of a relentless resolute driven by all the wrong ideas because of the pain he so adamantly refused the face, Eddie Munson was the cause of your ultimate failure. Eddie Munson manipulated his daughter. Eddie Munson got his daughter suspended. Eddie Munson would be the reason your failure tainted the family name.

Eddie pummeled through your door, coming face-to-face with the extravagant expanse of your home. Cold. Everything was freezing cold, from the temperature to the decoration. Deprived from any signs of life. As if it was a museum. His bulging eyes found the large staircase, and it truly amazed him how his feet found every step without thought, simply autopilot. There was a yanking urge that was demanding him to go back. Go back for you. Make sure you were okay. Make sure to clean your tears up. Once again, he was making you cry. Maybe not entirely his fault, but his being was partaking in your agony and he fucking hated himself for it. But the weighing steps of her father marching right on his ass prompted him to move forward. Your front door was swung carelessly, welcoming the hot air of the burning morning, where once again, the clean cut grass of the manicured lawn was falling victim to Eddie’s destruction of mucky shoes. Maybe drinking hadn’t been too bad of an idea—it absolutely was—as Eddie’s drunken state, at nine at night, had left his keys impaled into the ignition ready to go.

The haggard van erupted to life, Eddie had never been so grateful to hear the god awful clunk that definitely needed to be checked out. Peer out once more, your wrathful father ran with a tirade of curses that condemned Eddie Munson back to hell, but the screech of his reversing tires interrupted his polemic. “Don’t you ever come back! You’ll be dead before your kind can even step foot into my fucking neighborhood!”

Eddie Munson would return back in eighteen hours.

“There’s an old man sitting next to me…” Wayne softly chuckled, as the lyrics had been repeating out of his mouth for the entirety of his shift, after Rodney Nickelvich decided to play the voice of Billy Joel during break.

It’d been a particularly difficult shift. His back wasn’t getting any younger, and the evident ache that decided to settle in the lower region was making it known. But the stiffness of his folding bed would alleviate enough, at least until his next shift. But that never came for Wayne Munson. Because the second—the literal second—his head managed to even briefly skim his flat pillow, the presence of his caterwauling nephew combusted through their front door with no regards for the tired old man in the living room. Eddie hadn’t even looked his way. A straight B-line to the phone.

“And where the hell have you been?” Wayne groaned with prostration. “Comin’ in here like you own the place, have you lost your mind, boy?”

But there was no answer.

Where Eddie would have normally spoken back with a clear answer of respect, there was nothing. No acknowledgement.

“Ed.”

Already engraved into his mind like the chords to his guitar, Eddie punched the buttons to your number on the yellow phone. But then he stopped. “I need the time… I don’t want you calling.” But this was bigger than that, right? He needed to know you were okay. “Please don’t hate me.” He scrunched his brows in the burning pain of betraying your boundaries. Once again. His finger dialed the rest of the numbers.

But it was dead. Not a ring. Not a buzz. Not a single indication that your phone was even ringing. Just a deadline. And Eddie’s heart sank to the deepest pit in his stomach. “Fuck!”

“Eddie.” Wayne’s face etched with concern. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

Eddie’s chest began hyperventilating with worry for you. “I-I… shit, I-uh… I really gotta get to school.”

Wayne sat up, now. Never in the decade he’s been in the care of Eddie Munson had that boy ever rushed out to get to school. Something was deeply wrong. But he couldn’t even hurtle a question of scrutiny, as Eddie had already slammed the door shut with his being gone, so deeply perturbed.

Eddie was truly pissed off at this point.

The entire proposition of arriving early to school was to find Chrissy Cunningham, but just as it occurred yesterday afternoon, the cheerleader was nowhere to be seen in the breadth of Hawkins High. He knew he was going against your wishes, quite specifically, but his heart and mind couldn’t fathom the possible danger you could be subjected to. He had too. Right? Would you just hate him more for interfering? God, he was shooting himself over the complication he construed the entire situation to become. Asking his friends had quickly been classified as the most imbecilic measure he’d ever succumb to, as those guys had never found the courage to conjure up an idea to jump start an actual conversation with an actual girl. Knowing where the head cheerleader was was beyond their source of knowledge. Yesterday’s clothes, dry mouth, red eyes, the residing ache of his hangover still tormenting his sore limbs, and now having no comprehension of whether or not you were safe at the aggressive hands of your father, Eddie was about to traject the heaviest waterfall of beer and bile onto the grimy floors of Mr. Hall’s carpentry class. But the shrieking bell unexpectedly pacified the turbulence brewing in his belly, and he was shoving passed visibly annoyed bodies to reach the cafeteria. His only chance.

His overloaded mind didn’t even process the trouble he was walking into, but unwavering was Eddie Munson as he marched into the bustling cafeteria of crackling students and cardboard food, legs pushing him to the table. “Chrissy!” Heads snapped like automated robots. Yeah, he probably should have thought this out. Glares couldn’t even amount to the looks he was receiving from the highest of Hawkins High. This was no laughing matter, but the urge to not laugh at Jason Carver’s battered face left all self control out of Eddie, as the perfect comb-over paired with the purple swollen skin personified the magnificence of juxtapositions.

“You want something, freak?” Jason stood with a puffed chest.

“Look a little different, Carver, that new?” Eddie gestured to the contuse skin, smirking oleaginously. As if it was previously discussed, Andy McAvoy and Chance Williams stood to defend the precious honor of their friend. In Eddie’s mind, it pleased him to know a conversation of protection was ordered by Jason to his goons to preserve any remaining prettiness of his face. Prom was coming up. “Relax, I didn’t say your names, did I?”

Eddie and Jason’s gaze looked down upon Chrissy, who’s brows were cinched with confusion and worry as to what was going to occur. Jason could only snicker incredulously. “She’s not speaking to you! You really think I’m gonna leave her with some devil worshiper like you? Why don’t you do this whole town a favor and fuck off with the circus, fucking basketcase.”

But Eddie was indefatigable to the insults of the perfectly pristine. They’d been propelled since childhood, the last thing to strike his ego would be the dense words of Jason fucking Carver. Eddie had bigger issues at hand.

“That’s really cute, Carver, but she can make her own decisions, and right now,” Eddie locked eyes with a frantic Chrissy Cunningham, “we have something important to talk about.” It was imperative for Chrissy to understand, and the moment her eyes softened, a breath of relief escaped Eddie at her understanding. Your name was oozing importance.

“Are you that fucking insane-”

“Jason,” Chrissy held his hand, “h-he’s right.”

“What?!”

A disgustingly pompous smile eased onto Eddie’s face.

“It’s, uh, it’s for, um, Mrs. Durberry.” Chrissy nodded. “I-I have to, uh, tutor Eddie. We, um, we discussed it yesterday during, uh, lunch. Yeah, during lunch!”

“During lunch.” Eddie smirked with a condescending nod.

Jason huffed through flared nostrils, bending down to look Chrissy right in the eye. Though whispered in secrecy, Eddie rolled his eyes with agitation. “Are you sure about this? Is he just making you do this?”

“No, I promise.” Chrissy assured. “You know I aced chemistry, Mrs. Durberry is just trying to give me an opportunity to get community service hours, and tutoring was the perfect chance. You know it’ll look good for college applications.”

The lie was good enough to believe- not good enough to like, but good enough to believe, and that’s all Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham needed. Jason sat down in defeat, the other players following in unison, as Chrissy gathered her items. “You try anything, Munson, and you're dead.” Jason pointed with a stern finger.

Chrissy had quickly walked by, hoping Eddie would just follow, but of course, he couldn’t leave without the last word. “Right, right,” he slyly smiled, “might wanna put some ice on that, s’looking a little nasty. Who did that to you again?”

“Eddie.” Chrissy chastised.

Now, it was most abundantly clear that Chrissy Cunningham was not an indictment of the American education system, her grades almost as perfect as yours—though no one could come close to your precociousness—yet Eddie had to reevaluate his beliefs when Chrissy was marching vastly farther than anticipated.

“Jesus Christ, Chris, y’know we don’t actually have to intrude Durberry’s class? She fucking hates me.” Eddie giggled. “‘Specially after I used the bunsen burner to light a joint. Kept asking “what’s that smell” for a week.”

Chrissy finally came to a halt after turning into another empty hall. “Sorry.” She sighed. “Just can’t have Jason following us.”

“Y’know, you could probably do better than some control freak who follows you around.” Eddie shrugged.

Chrissy blinked at her shoes in contemplation. Eddie hadn’t expected the words to hit so deeply, a mere critique to the numerous problems he found in Jason Carver, but nonetheless, the cheerleader got extremely quiet, before shaking her head to get back to the point.

“A-anyways, um, what is it that you, uh, wanted?” She rushed out.

“Oh! Right, um, I need you to go to Y/N’s house.” His eyes widened, as his lips tightened between his mouth. He knew it was outrageous to ask.

“W-what?”

“Look, I know that’s a big ask-”

“I already gave you her number and address, why don’t you g-”

“I did!” He heaved. “I fucking did, and I messed up!”

Chrissy slumped,“Again?!”

Eddie winced. Again, again, again, again, again.

“Look, I “made” it to her house, and we got to talk. But her fucking dad caught me in her room, and just went haywire on me. Practically chased me out.” Eddie stressed. “And I-I tried to call her to make sure she was okay, I mean, it’d been a long night and she was crying when I left, and, fuck, Chris, I don’t know what her dad is capable of.” Is he like my dad? “Her line was dead when I tried, like off the hook, and I can’t go over to make sure she’s safe, Chrissy. I have to make sure she’s okay. Can you please just, I don’t know, do this for me, I’m fucking helpless here, I’m…” Helpless to my mother.

Chrissy was taken aback by the pure fear in his eyes as he rambled into oblivion. She knew you. She knew your father. She could only imagine how ballistic he’s gone in the past couple of days knowing what’s happened. “Okay, okay, okay, yeah, um, yeah,” Chrissy took a deep breath with a soft nod to her head, “Yeah, I’ll try to come over- but her dad’s really strict, Eddie. Like extremely, he’s the only reason why she’s so, you know, hard about her grades and stuff, I don’t know if he’d actually let me see her-”

“Please, please, just try.” Chrissy took notice of just how tightly his hands were balling into themselves, knuckles turning a blistering white from the lack of ease he was inflicting upon himself. “She’s your friend, and she doesn’t want to see me, so please, I’m begging you, Chris-”

“I will, Eddie, I will.” She reassured, as she adjusted her knit sweater that suddenly became itchy on her sensitive skin. “I just, um, I’ll probably have to come up with an excuse, a-and skip practice.”

“Look, m’sorry I’m dragging you into this, but I just need to make sure she’s okay, and maybe you can finally have a chance to talk to her about…y’know.” Chrissy shook her head quickly, acknowledging but not trying to think about her implicit endorsement to the status quo at Hawkins High, and how much it had hurt you. And she let it hurt you. “Just- you can’t tell her it was me who sent you, okay? Sh-she wants nothing to do with me, and I’m trying to respect that, I just need to know she’s safe, but she can’t know I sent you. I don’t- I don’t want to make her more upset, Chris. I can’t, I just-”

“Eddie,” Realizing the words were once again coming out a mile a minute, he bit his tongue, letting a bubble of air constrict his lungs with a fervent grip. He wasn’t about to cry. He couldn’t. Not here. Not at school. Not in front of Chrissy fucking Cunningham. Not that she’d judge much, she could already see the sheen of his eyes. “I’ll do it, I’ll check on her. A-and I won’t say it was you.”

His body was finally able to ease at her response, finally letting his airway release all tensions from the stirring anxiety that was still nesting in the crevices of his stomach. “Thank you, thank you so much.” His hands reached for her shoulders with a firm shake of acknowledgement, though his strength had her stumbling on her feet a bit. Not that he noticed. He was still worrying about you. “Just, uh, call me or something, the second she, uh- the second you know she’s okay.” Eddie didn’t want to think of the other possibility. The possibility where your father had laid a hand on you. Or worse. He wouldn’t know what to do. In his experience, silently crying and letting daddy take his frustrations out was the safest option. It was what mommy said to do, so dad wouldn’t do worse. At least ice cream was always promised at the end to make it all go away.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do that.” She nodded in agreement.

With the confirmation stated, Eddie had already begun walking away with a determined plan in mind to sit in front of the yellow telephone until the shrilling call came through. His mind dead set on you.

“Wait!” Chrissy had to snap him back to reality. “Eddie, I don’t have your phone number.” She lightheartedly scoffed.

Chrissy Cunningham began to worry. Yes, about you. She was ready to march her way past your father in order to make sure you were okay, and to pour her heart out on a well needed apology just so you could understand how sorry she was. Even if you didn’t accept it. But she was also worried about herself. Never in a million years did she expect Eddie Munson, of all people, to show her what true feelings were. He hadn’t even talked to you for more than a week, and he was bending over backwards to ensure all his wrongs were corrected for your safety and comfort. Jason Carvered loved her, she knew it, but the subtle things were becoming pronounced. Do you really think you should be wearing that? My parents will be there. Just come to the party, I’ll look bad if my girlfriend’s not there. When she comes back, I don’t want you hanging around Y/N anymore. She’s bad news and betrayed your friendship by fucking around with that trailer trash. Don’t make yourself look bad by being friends with her.

“Shit, yeah, sorry, my, uh, my brains all over the place.” He crazily signaled with a swing of his hand. Unlike yesterday, Chrissy’s pink pen was tainting a small torn sheet of notebook paper rather than skin, as risking the chance of Jason Carver seeing Eddie Munson’s phone number written on her hand would prompt another outburst of fury between the boys. So as Eddie reiterated the numbers to his home, Chrissy copied with intent.

Intent to see you. Intent to apologize. Intent to inform Eddie.

“Okay, I’ll call you as soon as I leave her place.” Chrissy assured, as the queasiness in Eddie had simmered but surely hadn’t left. He knew as soon as he got home, the consternation would eat him unalive.

Eddie nodded his head. “Yeah, thanks again, seriously, I’ll owe you whatever.” He sighed, before his brows perked. “Oh! I can give a twenty percent discount!” He didn’t even have to specify.

Chrissy Cunningham didn’t smoke. But at least he was trying.

“Uh, s-sure, Eddie.” She simply agreed, and it was able to give him a satisfied smile. “Anyways, yeah, I’ll talk to you later. Just try not to worry too much, I’m sure she’s okay.” She inspirited.

“Okay, yeah, as soon as you can.” Eddie sighed. “I’ll leave you to it, I’m gonna go throw up or something.”

Luckily, Eddie Munson didn’t vomit in the filthy stall that is the boys’ bathroom at Hawkins High, though Chrissy Cunningham sure felt like she was about to hurl today’s lunch and breakfast standing at the doorstep of your home. Her toes tensed in the comfort of her sneakers, hearing the incoming steps of your father approaching the door. Hands gripping the straps of her backpack, she was ready- well, as ready as one can be about to face their best friend’s—did she even have a right to call you that—daunting father.

The door swung. “Hi, Mr. Y/L/N!” Smile, a bright smile and wave from Chrissy Cunningham was sure enough to get anyone to be polite. But his face plastered the same dead expression he’s had for the last four years Chrissy had known him. No smile. No squint of the eyes. Unemotional stoicism.

“Hi, Chrissy.” Robots had more pep in their voices. “Sorry, but Y/N is grounded, for quite an extensive period actually, so she’s not allowed visitors. Go home.” He began to close the door, but Chrissy’s manicured hand abruptly stopped the closure.

“Wait!” She immediately reeled back, seeing the disrespecting look take over his face. “Sorry, sir, I-I’m not here to hang out, it’s just, uh, I brought all the school work Y/N’s missed. You know, from her suspension?” She spoke sheepishly. “A-and well, we don’t want her falling behind, sir.” A nervous chuckle accompanied her faux parent voice. “In fact, Mrs. Durberry and I actually discussed tutoring, so, you know, Y/N is back on track by the time of her return.”

It was in regards to your grades, your father’s favorite. Chrissy Cunningham was a genius.

“Really?” He questioned quizzically.

“Yeah!” Chrissy bounced on the balls of her feet with a firm pat to her backpack. “I’ve got all her work right here. She’s free to turn it in when she gets back, and you know, she’s firmly secured that valedictorian spot, so there’s no need to worry.” She smiled, and of course, of course, that’s all he cared about in the wake of your suspension.

So easily had Chrissy been let into your home. She wondered what she would say to you, as she followed behind your father to your room. It was strange. Your home had always been a cold one, but your laughter and the endless sleepless sleepovers had the ability to bring warmth to such a colorless environment. But all that suffocated her was hostility. Long gone were the memories of an innocent friendship between the two girls. Another factor to consider was the mere fact that your father was guiding Chrissy. She’d been over to your house for years, the layout didn’t suddenly change over a couple days, and a nervous thump began upsetting Chrissy’s heart. And she found out why.

“Had to lock her up.” He uttered with no shame, as he pulled out a glowing key from his pocket. Haphazardly bolted on your door was a new lock, evidently cheaply and hastily done, as the lock resembled the numerous ones used for the lockers at Hawkins High, and the chipped paint and exposed wood could only insinuate the fury in which this job was done in. Your door lock, one onced used when you and Chrissy discussed the boys you thought were cutest at school in your pink pajamas, was now accompanied by a prison lock keeping you captive in your bedroom. “Should've seen the trash she was bringing in.” He muttered mostly to himself. Chrissy didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak. Too disturbed for her own wellbeing. “Do me a favor, kid,” he unlocked the door, “knock some sense into that disgrace.”

He walked away without a care.

The door creaked open, and Chrissy had taken a deep breath. Stepping inside, with a soft click of the door behind her, her eyes landed on the still figure on your bed. Turned away and engaging at the neverending nothingness of everything, you cocooned yourself in your blanket, like a hurt child. Because you merely were one. Chrissy looked away, inching tiny steps closer. Disheveled would be an understatement to the usual cleanliness of your room. Knick-knacks and personal items were thrown about, cracked, and broken, and damaged beyond the actions of someone who was depressed. No, this was the destruction of deep rooted anger.

No expecting the company, you simply screwed your eyes closed with the awaiting words of hatred you thought would be coming from your father at any second. But it didn’t. Only the familiar softness of Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend. “Y/N…?”

You immediately jumped at the sound, meeting your reddening, wet eyes with Chrissy’s round, worried blue ones. “Chrissy…”

The occupying distrust you had for her was incomparable to the pain of what had occurred today. Yes, she hurt you. Yes, you lost your one true friend. But you needed her. And your arms opened like the broken child reaching out for help, and she immediately embraced you on your bed. Your bed, where you spent countless times giving each other at-home mani and pedis, even though your allowances provided enough for professional services, but this was more fun. Your bed, where Chrissy once vented about the first fight she ever had with Jason Carver, because he disregarded her at a party to do a keg stand—yes, it was trivial, but they were sixteen at the time. And your bed, where you both shared the vulnerability of losing a mother, either physically or emotionally, through sobbing tears and tight hugs, but none of that mattered because you were best friends and had each other. Forever.

“Are you okay?” Her vision appeared blurry under the disorientating state of water welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything.” Chrissy stroked your hair. You couldn’t muster a word to respond with, merely silently crying into the junction of her neck, where she smelled of spring flowers. You’d picked out that perfume for her. Her seventeenth birthday. “I should’ve stuck up for you, I-I should’ve told everyone to stop, I’m so sorry I didn’t.”

Her apology suddenly revealed why you lost trust in her in the first place. Urgently pulling back from the hug far quicker than Chrissy would have liked, you brought your knees to your chest, letting your face find solace on the tiny space rather than her embrace.

“What are you doing here, Chris?” You mumbled so quiet, she was barely able to register it from the chirping birds outside.

“I came to apologize to you.” At least she wasn’t drunk. “I- Y/N everything I did to you was awful.” Her plucked brows furrowed with shame and remorse. You carefully picked up your head, as she gently held knee. “When everyone started saying stuff about you, I was so confused, and before I could even question it, Jason had me promise to not be around you, and I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to excuse what I did, I just should have known better, and I needed to apologize to you.”

Your eyes had closed in relief. You were beyond the trenches of exhaustion, everything was so sore from the exertion of crying, that the simple apology brought the grand relief you’d been yearning for. “I-I think I need space away from Jason.” That had your eyes snapping open. Jason and Chrissy, in love since the tenth grade, becoming the embodiment of young love in Hawkins. Their parents had practically set up a future in which both attended the same university as young adults, and married each other with the expectation of kids by the age of twenty-five.

“I don’t like who he is as a person.” She confessed with a wobbly lip. “ I know he loves me, but I love you, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

You took her back into a loving hug, where she fell limp in your arms, as her tears stained your clothes. Though muffled you spoke with a small whine, “You sound like Eddie.” Which had her giggling through tears.

She had slowly pulled away, smiling at the small curve of your lips that was brightening your face. She wiped your tears, and caressed the hairs out of your face. “Yeah, he’s kinda my new friend now.” She shrugged. “Even offered me a discount to his… business.”

You laughed with a roll to your eyes. “Quite the entrepreneur he is.” She snickered in agreement. “But yeah, I could tell when he came to my house yesterday.”

“Oh, god.” Chrissy plopped back on your bed. “How did you even figure out it was me, you’re so smart?”

You giggled, joining her, as you stared up at the ceiling. “Seeing someone like Eddie Munson show up with pretty pink writing on him doesn’t seem like something that occurs innately in nature. Figured you had something to do with it.”

“I’m sorry for that, too.” She turned to look at you. “I shouldn’t have given him that information without asking you. He just really wanted to apologize to you, too, and it seemed like the right thing to do. What even happened?” She sat up to get serious.

You couldn’t fathom retelling the occurrence of what happened, so you merely opted for the safest choice, and nodded your head in silence. “He did apologize, just wish he would have done it differently.” You sighed. “And, uh, my dad-” Your throat had automatically constricted at the simple mention of him, eyes tightening with the hopes of suppressing the whirlwind of tears that were about to flood your face. “Chrissy, he wouldn’t stop yelling.” You began bawling, as she pulled you up to wrap her arms around your shrinking body. “H-he kept screaming a-and shouting, then he just- he just started throwing things-” Chrissy could only rock you body, gently and softly, letting your tears hit her shoulder with all might. “I was so scared.”

The dreaded question. “Did- did he hit you?” Chrissy spoke into your hair, terrified of how you might answer. But luckily, the tiniest bit of luck, you had shook your head no, and she let out a deep breath. But the harsh slap of reality was that your father had still severely crossed a line that put you in an unsafe environment. And you were petrified.

“He’s not letting me leave my room.” You whispered through sniffles.

“Did he take your phone, Edd-” Chrissy contemplated for a second, before she spoke extremely softly. “Eddie said you didn’t pick up when he tried to call you after what happened.”

“He tried to call me?”

“Just to make sure you were okay.” She emphasized. “He said he’s trying to respect your wishes of wanting space, but after what happened, he just needed to know you were safe… that’s why- that’s why I’m here.” Your brows furrowed and you immediately sat up. “I’d been wanting to apologize to you, and Eddie had been dying to make sure you were okay, so he asked me to come check on you, and so I could finally say sorry to you. He- Y/N, he really cares about you. We both do.”

This was the bit of progress you were wanting to see. To know that the Eddie Munson you met Friday afternoon, the one who coward away at the mere idea of feelings and compassion, the one who uttered the vile words that stabbed right through you, the one who shouted in defense because he was hurt, that that wasn’t him. It wasn’t who he wanted to be. It wasn’t who he truly was. But a recovery from trauma was not a linear progression, and last night you were able to understand the fluctuations of Eddie Munson, the reason why he berated and hurt, the reason why he comforted and protected, the reason why he wailed and sobbed.

“Chrissy, when’s the next time you’re gonna see him?” You cleared your face from staining tears.

“I’ll see him at school tomorrow, but he asked me to call him to make sure you were safe first.”

You nodded. “I, uh- can you actually ask him something for me?”

That one clunking noise Eddie had once been so happy to hear? Yeah, he’s returned back to detesting it, as he felt it drew so much attention to the all too quiet streets of Pinecrest Acres. He made the conscience—and sober—decision to park behind the gray De Tomaso Pantera—fighting the urge to just pop the hood and look at the beauty inside—that resided two houses down from yours. It gave him enough coverage away from any view of your father. Eddie was terrified. Much to his dismay, Chrissy had been fairly vague over the phone when she rang him at 5:59 p.m exactly. Luckily by then, a buddy of Wayne’s had taken him out to an early dinner before their shift at the plant, so his uncle missed out on the Olympic-worthy run Eddie had made to the phone the second it began ringing. And Chrissy had spoken. A lot. But so little at the same time. He was happy to hear you guys made up. Truly he was. But Chrissy had carried on for a five minute tangent about how gladly you accepted her back into your life again. Eddie Munson was honestly jealous. Though she had mentioned how you specified wanting time away from her, too, maybe meeting up to speak that coming Monday at school when your suspension would be over. Eddie had wondered if you would speak to him then, too. But he didn’t have to wonder much longer. After he so kindly told the cheerleader to get to the point, the real point he wanted to hear, she had assured him that you were okay. Physically, at least. Eddie had dropped to his kitchen chair with a breath of relief that no one had touched you. But then Chrissy kept speaking. She wants to see you. Tonight. That had Eddie trajecting back up from his seat. But his questions had disappointingly gone unanswered. No details. No explanation. No reasoning. Just show up, Eddie. At midnight. At her window. And not drunk. Chrissy had never gotten the full story as to what went down between you and Eddie, so that part desperately confused and intrigued the girl, but she didn’t push any further. Eddie, though, had cringed in disgust at himself because he knew.

An owl had hooted in the distance as he followed the tracks his beloved, dying van had made on your green lawn. Once again, Eddie had found himself in the same position as last night, cracking his neck and rolling his limbs for the climb of a lifetime. If it was somehow possible, he felt he was quivering more than when he was three beers down and no dinner. Yes, he was sober, but his heart could stop beating at the neverending questions his mind was bombarding against himself. Were you mad because he sent Chrissy over? Surely you couldn’t be, she would have said so. But you could also be really fucking pissed. The same type of anger that caught him off guard when his father swung on his little face when Eddie thought they were having a good time.

But he couldn’t rely on heavy thoughts as such. He just needed to get to you. Passed the trellis, over the trimming, onto the roof. Quiet as Eddie Munson could be. He couldn’t really be quiet, but he tried for you. Crouching his way to your window, he sucked in a deep breath before he ever so gently tapped on your window. He was eyeing his reflection, wondering who the hell he had become. The one definitive figure he didn’t want to become: his father. A relentless pessimist, hatred against the world, bruteness to show off, and the inability to take accountability for the hurt they cause, because they were hurt first, right?

But then your curtains opened, and there you were. You.

You, who’d included his friends when no one wanted them. You, who made him smile despite his hesitations of getting hurt. You, who took the fall for everything. You, who gave Eddie Munson a chance.

You lifted your window open. “Hi.”

Eddie could cry right then and there. His shaky trembling hands slowly offered themselves to you, and you peered down, gently laying yours in his, where your warmth dissipated his coldness. He sighed with a loving grasp. “Y-you’re okay? He didn’t- did he touch you?”

Eddie had heard it from Chrissy, but hearing your small “no” was more comforting than a third-party person.

“Why, um, why did you need to see me?” He softly cleared his throat.

“I want to talk, b-but not here.” Eddie nodded ardently at your request. “Just somewhere far.”

Somewhere far, he could give that to you.

Helping you out of your window, you followed Eddie’s led to the edge of your roof, where you traced the dying height from your second story room to the hard, hard, ground. “Don’t be scared.” He soothingly smiled. “Remember, I made the climb drunk.”

You shook your head in disappointment, but he saw that small, beautiful smile peak through your lips. “Just, um, please don’t let me fall.” Your stomach sunk at the eerie possibility.

But Eddie was there, and he let you know with a secure squeeze to your joint hands. “Never.”

You watched him descend. Off of the roof. Over the trimming. Down the trellis. He made it look so easy, as if he actively partook in the illegal activity of breaking and entering. Eddie would never admit it, not now at least, but for good reason he had done it once. Once. Mr. Godly had a cat that fifteen-year-old Eddie once saw the old man kick. Safe to say, Cronkers now resides in the makeshift cat house of cardboard, wood, and a childhood blanket behind the Munson’s residence. Her favorite is Wayne’s Monday meatloaf.

He encouraged you down delicately. Instructing you to take small movements, find your steps, and he’ll be right there. He’d always be there. When your Converse hit the holes of the trellis, his hands faintly found your waist, where you trusted him to carry you down the last couple abrasive steps onto your crushed garden. Feet safely on the ground, you gazed up at his staggering height and met his concerned eyes. You merely nodded before he could get the words out, are you okay?

“Your car?” You interrupted his staring. But in his defense, your face was illuminated mesmerizingly in the moonlight of the dark sky.

“Right, right.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He muttered in embarrassment, as he quickly walked away before you could see his flushing cheeks. As if you hadn’t already witnessed him ugly cry drunk in your bedroom.

You walked the quiet trip to his van, where he graciously opened the door for you. You didn’t know at the time, but the couple yards it took to get to his car, he’d been battling himself whether or not that’d be the right move to try. He’d never opened the door for anyone. But your small “thank you” that flashed his way had him praising to the gods he didn’t even believe in that he was a genius.

His car smelled strongly like cigarettes and weed. It honestly hurt your head, but you hadn’t expected anything less from Eddie. It made you giggle to yourself. The usual was everywhere; littered receipts and wrappers crumbled into the door compartments, numerous scented trees hanging from the rear view mirror, which you could only assume had been Eddie’s attempt to mask the nicotine and marajuana, and of course, an array of tapes thrown upon the floor at your feet, you could vividly imagine Eddie getting tired of a tape and carelessly getting rid of it. But then there was something else.

Eddie appeared in the front seat. “You ready?” He heaved.

“Yeah, but, um, why do you have these?”

“Ice cream?” He questioned more than answered. Yes, ice cream sitting in the tight space of his cupholders, two cartons with a spoon for each. “Um, well, I figured it’d be nice to, uh, have. I always, uh, liked having it, I guess. Always made me feel slightly better as a kid. It’s vanilla and chocolate. You can take whichever.” You eyed him incredulously, he eyed you worriedly. “Do you not like either of those flavors? I know I went basic, but I thought they were safe choices. I can get you whatever. Strawberry, cookies n’ cream, mint?” He grimaced, as though it was a deal breaker but he’d look right past it.

You giggled at him. “No, Eddie, it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.” You shyly smiled.

“Okay, good.” He smiled, with a whistle of relievement. “So, it’ll make you feel better?”

Lovers Lake had been the destination of choice for Eddie. It was quiet and calming. The car ride had been, too. Eddie had suggested some music, but was adamant about his disdain for the radio, though you weren’t necessarily in the mood to have the voices of Megadeth screaming at you this late at night. Eddie had begrudgingly agreed. So it was quiet. He was itching to ask you why you wanted to talk, though that only seemed appropriate whenever you would arrive. You had reached over and played with the mini bobble head figure of Garfield that was nestled against his van’s windshield. You said it was cute. He blushed. Then proceeded to nervously ramble about how Uncle Wayne had one of Odie in his work truck. You didn’t know Uncle Wayne, but he spoke about him like you knew every detail about Wayne already. The lake had been abandoned and lonely upon arrival. The lights to Rick Lipton’s lake house had been shut off for nearly a year now after his arrest. Eddie had only agreed and smiled when you mentioned how an old, lovely couple probably lived there and sat out by the lake to watch the sunset. Sure, something like that. He’d let you have your fantasy. The way the idea lit up your face and eased your tension, he wasn’t about to ruin that.

“We can, um, head to the back.” He offered, to which you agreed.

In truth, the bundle of blankets and pillows in the back of his van didn’t paint him out to be the greatest of all people, but he quickly assured that he frequently takes nap in the comfort of his van when he doesn’t have the energy for Mrs. O’Donnell’s voice. Specifically adding a yapping gesture with his hand to emphasize. So there you were. Sitting in the back, doors open to let in the midnight breeze, as you looked out to the glistening waters. You’d settled on vanilla after you noticed the tighter grip Eddie’s hand had clutched around the chocolate flavor, and surely, a blooming smile erupted on his face when he got to secure his preferred flavor of dessert.

“So, um-”

“I just wanted to speak to you.” You confided. “You know, when we’re not yelling, crying, or drunk,” you giggled at his wincing face, “as we have been doing for the past couple of days.”

“M’a fucking mess, I’m sorry.”

“So am I, Eddie-”

“No, you’re not.” He firmly attested. “You were absolutely perfect before I came into your life and fucked everything up.”

You teased, “You're saying I’m not perfect now?” Your mouth dropped in a dramatic gasp that had him smiling.

“No! No! I’m not saying that at all, you are perfect now, you’ll be perfect for the rest of your life and you won’t even have to try.” He sheepishly grinned, filling his mouth with a big spoonful to bite back the smile.

“Hate to break it to you, Eddie, but I’ve been far from perfect even before I met you. I wish you would see that. It’s doing more harm than good.” You spoke sincerely. “I don’t like you placing me into a bubble, Eddie, especially when you’ve hated the people who’ve done it to you. But I never have.”

His head dropped with a nod. “You’re right.” He accounted. “I’ve had the bullshit done to me for years, I thought it’d finally make me feel good to do it to someone like you. And it was fucking gross of me, because you’re right, you’ve never done anything to me. Actually, that night you took our photo, that was quite literally the nicest anyone has ever treated me- us. And, fuck me, did I like the shit out of you.”

You laughed at his shy revelation. “You have such a romantic way with your words, Eddie Munson.” You joked.

“Sorry.” He covered his mouth so kidlike. “But, uh, yeah I obviously liked you, and well, something in me was just fighting me to stay away. Or get away, more than anything. Because, um, it’d… it’d really fucking hurt if you didn’t like me back.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, speaking with pure shame as to who he was as a person. “And, well, mission fucking accomplished, I, sorta, kinda went above and beyond with that logic.”

“You think?” You smiled.

“It was so stupid of me.” He regrettably sighed. “Because-because I thought- you were just so nice to me. Ready to be my friend and everything, that I knew, I fucking knew my feelings would get too much for me and the realizations that I couldn’t be with you fucking scared me.” His voice had significantly softened to ease the burning ache in his throat. “A-and I’m such a shit excuse of a person that I fucking hurt you when you didn’t deserve it.”

“You are not that, Eddie, don’t say that-”

“But I am, Y/N, I’m so fucking terrible. I-I’m, fuck- I really fucking hate my dad.” Your brows creased at the sudden change of topics. “He was an awful person, he- he would-” The crying began. “Fuck,” he wiped his tears completely embarrassed, “He would just do terrible things to me and my mom, and I fucking said- I fucking said I wouldn’t be like him, be like her- she just fucking took that shit, Y/N, she said it was for the best.” You held his hand, his ice cream long forgotten and pushed to the side. “I just don’t want to be like him- them. M’tryin’ so fucking hard that it fucking backfired. M’such a terrible person, and I’m so sorry.”

You wished this conversation wasn’t full of tears, but you realized how inevitable that idea was. You and Eddie Munson were hurting and releasing. Crying was necessary.

“You are not a terrible person, Eddie.” He had to hear, loud and clear. You rested your head on his shoulder, where his head dropped upon yours. “Terrible people don’t sit and wonder if they’re terrible. And the fact that you care about how you are as a person shows it.” You caressed the back of his hand. “You are a worthwhile person, Eddie. I can so clearly see it.”

“I’m really fucking sorry for everything I’ve done to you, Y/N.” He wiped the incoming snot from his nose with his denim sleeve. “I-I need you to know that everything I did was out of fucking stupidity.” He huffed. “What I called you, those names, that was fucking disgusting, and I don’t believe that about you at all. I never have.”

“I’m sorry for what I said about you, too-”

“Don’t you fucking dare say you’re sorry for telling the truth.” He deeply laughed through his sniffles, voice deeper from the being nasally stuffed.

You smiled back guilty. “No, I am! What I said was really mean, too.”

“Absolutely not, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “What was it, ‘a sulking asshole too pathetic to deal with their problems?’ You hit it right on the nail, princess.”

“Well,” you giggled, “even if you won't let me apologize, I need you to know that I still feel bad. Slightly.”

“Fair enough.” He grinned. “But I do need to apologize, and I need you to know that I’m truly sorry, Y/N. For everything. For what I said. For what I did. For making you feel horrible and scared. And for just putting you through all that. You didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“I know.” You whispered. “And if it’s any consolation to you, Eddie, I also hate my dad.”

“Oh, my god.” Eddie clutched his heart. “He really put a fucking number on me, fuck me.” He groaned, turning to face you. “Please, please, please tell me if he does something. I won’t be able to fucking live my life not knowing.”

Your lips tucked tightly within themselves, and with a soft nod you assured him you would.

You spoke. You both spoke for a while. The hours had passed unknowingly until both tubs of ice cream were empty by 3:33 a.m. Tears and laughter had flooded the back of the van, and you felt like you’d been his friends with him since childhood. He couldn’t fathom the way he treated you, when speaking to you floated him into another dimension of peace and acceptance. Something he hadn’t felt in the entirety of his life. But when you caught a glimpse of the repeating digits on his watch, your heart panicked and you urged him to take you home, which he suddenly complied. This time, though, Megadeth was gladly played, and to say you were shocked would be quite an understatement. Eddie had belted a laugh at your abrupt introduction to metal, finding your this-is-weird-but-I-don’t-want-you-to-think-I’m-judging-you face as the cutest thing ever. And sooner than he liked, he pulled up behind the De Tomaso Pantera. Your attempt to say goodbye fell short, though, when he shot down your idea to walk home alone.

“Really, Eddie, go home, it’s late.” You huffed, when you reached your house.

“I will, I will,” He snickered with defensive hands. “Just, uh, th-thank you so much for, um- well, being so understanding even after all that I did. I just- you really are the best, Y/N.” He ranked his hands over his face in hopes of concealing the ever growing smile on his face.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You giggled at his flustered state. “You’re quite incredible yourself.”

“Do, um, where does this… leave us?”

“I still want space, Eddie.” You spoke honestly, to which he concurred. “Until we’re okay.”

“Until we’re okay.” He sighed.

Eddie had managed to take advantage of the four hours of sleep left until school began. There was no sleeping past his alarm clock, no rush to get dressed, no giving up when lateness was inevitable. He’d shown up, showered and full with a bowl of cereal that went a long way, as he approached Ms. Kelly’s office. It was nerve wracking. He’d never considered this to be a good idea, in fact, following his father’s word, therapy was a pussy excuse for the delusional to waste money on. But those were the words that held him captive from the potential he so well deserved to reach. Turning from her filing cabinet, Ms. Kelly had caught sight of his timid figure standing at the door.

“Eddie.” She hadn’t been unfamiliar with his being, she’d actually been the one to break it to him the last two times that he was in for another year at prison Hawkins High. “How can I help you?”

He sauntered his way into her office, taking a seat with a gruff. It was evident his persona to seem calm, cool, and collected was falling through the cracks, as his finger spun the numerous rings on his fingers. “I, uh, I was wondering if it’d be cool to, um, just talk?”

“Absolutely.” Ms. Kelly dreamed of the day Eddie Munson would enter her office with good intentions. “Anything in particular?”

He shook his head. “No.” He sighed. “Just got a lot pent up inside, I guess.”

“Well, the floor is yours, Eddie.” She smiled. “Talk as much as you need.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | Unfortunately, my tag list for this series has gotten too long, so I will not be adhering to any further requests to be included. I'm so terribly sorry, but the amount of tags has beyond reached its limit, and I think it's best to stop. I hope it's understandable. Nonetheless, thank you all for your kind support, I hope you guys continue to enjoy the series, and if you ever have any ideas as to what you'd like to see, I'd love to know!

@sierrahhh @harrysgothicbitch @niallerlover8022 @aunicornmademedoit @spring-picnics @sleepy-bunnie @eggo-segual @bambi-horror @aheadfullofsteverogers @sademoloser @freakymunson @princess-eddie @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @negativity4you @nope-thanks @allsortsedits @callingmrsbarnes @f0rgggg @hurricane-abigail @sweet-sunflower64

@redlovett @goldstars-to-all @eddiesguitarskills @goslytherin @sashaphantomhive @maxinehufflepuffprincess @emeritusemeritus @angel-upon @middle-of-the-earth @scarletwitchwhore @my-tearsricochet @ericasdumbworld @animechick555 @gewrgia-black @hookandchain @roseanddaggerlarry @prestinalove @sebismyhubby @maddsunn

@zoeymunson @corrcdedcoffin @sweetmariihs2 @thefemininemystiquee @monserat @findmeincorneliastreet @sheneedsrocknroll92 @silent-stories @batkin028 @btbabyy

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #the yearbook: club pictures

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swordsmans · 11 months

Note

do you have any zolu fic recs? 🤔

oh boy do i.

my deepest apologies to others who have asked and only gotten "i promise i'll make a post!!" in response. now... here is my list! 36+ fics, including a few series i'm counting as "single" recs, (+3 not counted).

Spin a Yarn by SrirachaBunny

technically a series, this is a time travel fix-it that has expanded outward from its original premise over the years but is still very much THE zolu fix-it of all time.

Of First Mates and Duty by Whatev3rs

“First mates… we devote our lives to our captains. Our entire beings. We live for them, breathe for them. And they expect us not to fall in love?”

Devotion by BasicallyACat

two part canon compliant series that lives rent-free in my mind. this is my go-to "must read for new zolu fans" fic

without guilt by Augment

Luffy hungers, Zoro thirsts. (+ bonus honorable mention to "But Patience Boasts", which is the sanji-pov portion of this fic and is one of my faves of all time)

got all my attention fixed on you (and you're just where you said you'd be) by nevermordor

Luffy looks again at the bitemarks that he left on Zoro’s wrist. Zoro’s usually hurt, one way or another. Sometimes it’s definitely been Luffy’s fault too, but the bitemarks feel different. (honestly, just read all of nevermordor's fics; they are a fave of all time)

to cut your teeth on love by freckledshoulderblades

Zoro meets Luffy and gives himself over wholeheartedly the instant Wadō is placed between his teeth again. Luffy meets Zoro and decides in a heartbeat that Zoro is his.

tidings of war, tidings of joy by queerweather

Zoro is drenched in sweat already, but at least with his haki holding Luffy’s at bay he isn’t suffocating. And Luffy, damn him, looks completely unruffled.

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow by Leoporidae_Lagomorpha

Because before the Pirate King and the World's Greatest Swordsman there were two lost boys in East Blue. How people grow and promises change. (Zoro finds the color of his devotion.)

Fate and death are made in pairs by demonsLOver

"It's not because of his power or skill. He makes enemies and allies fight for his side. Among all the men of the sea, he has the most frightening ability." Mihawk stated to his pupil. (+ honorable mention to "Forged By Fire" as well)

our shores of starlight (come sailing in) by kurgaya

At Shells Town, Luffy does not meet Roronoa Zoro. Instead, he acquires a sword.

let me carry your scars by arkhamsjason

What Zoro didn't expect, as he made himself comfortable, as so many night before, to keep watch along with Luffy, was that he'd finally have the chance to know what his captain's ruined chest would feel like beneath his calloused hand and guilt filled heart.

and i will learn for you by blueacorn

Zoro will begin to realise that there are other ways to protect.

ship to wreck. by thychesters

Nami is the first one to notice something is amiss, but then given her current competition is Luffy and Zoro, it isn’t surprising. (+ honorable mention to "the salt & the sea.", a reincarnation AU!)

unspeakable love by gadgetronic

A character study with a focus on Zoro that explores promises, sacrifices, beginnings, and devotion.

Precipice of a Change by xpiester333x

Zoro stood there. He was on the precipice of something. One wrong move would send him over the edge into an unknown. He needed to step back, but his feet were locked and frozen on spot. (one of the few AUs to make this list! the characterization here is SPOT ON!)

First Mate, Soulmate by kkuroshii

Fighting with Luffy comes as easy as breathing to Zoro, and he can’t help but wonder what accomplishing his dream with this boy would be like

Robin Knows by leopardgeckoz

In which Nico Robin has always known how her captain and first mate feel for one another, and the scenario's in which the rest of the crew discover it.

with this heart of mine that's guilty; (not remorseful) by phosphenical

It had been two weeks, four days, and twenty-something odd hours since Zoro died. (WARNING FOR PERMA-MCD/HEAVY ANGST)

thank you. / goodbye. by Kenshi

WARNING FOR PERMA-MCD; short and... not "sweet", exactly; the style of this one does nice things to my brain

Blood Song by blue_wonderer

There's nothing to scream about because nothing happened.

blood-spitting loyalty by guiltylights

One day, you’re going to find something worth more to you than your own pride.

axiomatic by grainjew

Reflections on Zoro's devotion.

Providence by taizi

"You know, Zoro," he says, "I broke my end of that deal." 'If you ever come between me and my dream—' Ah, but then, "So did I."

Mutiny by VIKAN

Zoro disobeys a Captain's Order and it's all Sanji's fault. (not strictly ZoLu in the romantic sense, but this fic is a masterclass in both tension-building and how to write an in-character ZoLu argument)

something happened by torkz

Things are changing fast, and Zoro doesn't want to walk into the future with any secrets from his Captain.

Recognition by VickyVicarious

Zoro on titles, dreams, and Luffy. (old-school)

In the Blink of an Eye by InsaneMelon/Acewithapaintbrush

honorable mention to another old-school oneshot from FFnet UPDATE!! this has been re-written and the link has been updated.

Coming Home by thricepiercedpirate

What begins as a happy reunion, because everyone is accounted for and more-or-less in one piece, unexpectedly turns awkward as hell… (the only explicit entry on this list, but i'd be remiss if i did not include the fic that introduced/converted me to ZoLu for life back at the dawn of time... thanks from past-gyro, we wouldn't be here without you, dude.)

Stakes by CaptainJojo

Zoro has a good grasp of what fights are- and are not- worth his time. Or: Zoro gets lost and gets in one (1) fight about it.

Like a Dawning by WhirlyBird70

I am the man who will be King of the Pirates, Luffy said, says, and it’s not a promise but a will, and Zoro knows – knows that of anyone Zoro has ever seen, Luffy is the one to have the Haki of the Conquering King.

invisible threads that bind us by Pure_Night_Fury

Yin and Yang some people would say. Soulmates, others would mention. Or: Nami meets two idiots.

greed by species_baby

Something about his self-assuredness, his conviction makes Zoro dizzy. Although, that could also be the starvation.

Smile, Darn Ya, Smile by sciencemyfiction

Wouldn’t it be fucked up if Zoro was made to eat a smile fruit? And what would Luffy and the other Straw Hats do to help him?

Also, I'm including a shameless and horribly self-indulgent plug for my own stuff, because this is a ZoLu rec list and hey! I write that! lol

poly philtatos (the most loved by far) by swordsmans

25k; Zoro protects the crew and his Captain, and does not realize they will go to the ends of the earth to protect him, too.

ocean theology by swordsmans

40k; canon-compliant enma-asura/nika reincarnation. kinda.

the sea makes bones of bodies by swordsmans

88k; Only one is a monster, but both are a little monstrous. mafia hitman/underground fight club champion/reincarnated moon god x merman/legendary sea monster/reincarnated sun god AU. my magnum opus, probably.

#one piece #zolu #fic recs!#answers #srry this took like. one million hours #days even

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fallinforerling · 1 year

Note

Hi I was the one that asked for a jobe fanfic ,I was thinking maybe like meeting his family and like jude is all protective of jobe and just wants to makes sure that she actually likes him for who he is..please

troubled meetings - jb

A/N: I don't actually know what was going on inside my head when I was writing this, so my deepest apologies. I just know I love to make Jude the villain. See you soon!

ೃ⁀➷ my taglists

: ̗̀➛ REQUESTS ARE OPEN !

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

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✉️ “Come meet my family on Saturday. Theyʼll be all home, and my mum is dying to know you ever since she ate those biscuits you made earlier this week.”

At the time, the idea was wonderful. Finally meeting the family of your best friend. It seemed like a completely normal thing to do.

Except Jobeʼs family wasnʼt exactly... common? Not even Jobe himself was, since he also fell into the “famous footballer” category for a lot of people. You didnʼt saw him as a celeb since he was your friend, but his brother was an exception.

Everyone knew his brother.

That same brother was now sitting across the table, looking at you in a way that made you feel like your company wasnʼt the most welcomed. Maybe it was because you werenʼt a familiar face, or maybe because you two were forced to be alone for a long period of time (thirty minutes) without any more information than your names. Well, at least on his side.

“So… Are you happy to be back?” You ask awkwardly, trying to break the ice.

“Sure.” He said, sniffing while looking away from you. “S'nice to be home for a while.” He gave you a look that was pretty confusing to you, but you werenʼt about to ask him what was wrong. “How did you met Jobe?”

“Uh, thatʼs a pretty funny story, actually!” You smiled for the first time in ten minutes, always happy to tell anyone the way you met since it was one of your favorite memories so far. “I was sitting in this coffee shop when, suddenly, a lot of voices, screams, and noise started to unfold inside this tiny place. I was like, «What the hell?», so I look up, and there is a whole football team sitting on any spot available... Which was almost every single one; I was the only customer at that moment. So yeah, after a while I tried to leave, and before I made it out I got this horrible, cold feeling… Turns out your brother poured his coffee on me by accident! I was fuming!” You laughed, expecting him to follow along since almost everyone did. But it seems like thereʼs an exception for everything. “Anyways... He apologized and promised to pay for new clothes and a new coffee.” You finished your story half-smiling at him, noticing how he didnʼt even tried to pretend he liked the story.

What was wrong with this guy?

“Thatʼs nice.” Was all he said for a while. “Did you know who he was at that time?”

“Well, I recognized his face from somewhere... He looks a lot like you, haha.” Not a good joke, it seems. “Uhm, but yeah, later I realized that he was, uhm, Jobe Bellingham.”

“And aren’t you a bit older to be friends with my brother?”

“Pardon?”

You were beyond uncomfortable by this point. It was very off-putting to notice how strong his dislike for you actually was, which was sad since you just met him. That question sounded like an accusation. Just as you were about to get up and try to look for Denise, who you met a bit earlier and was the sweetest soul ever, Jobe appeared out of nowhere. His hair seemed a bit wet, and you knew he had just taken a shower. The fucker left you alone with the orc of his brother for a shower.

“Finally!” You whispered at him, praying that Jude didn’t have excellent hearing. “Can we get out of here?”

“What? Why?” Your friend was confused for a second before he looked in his brother’s direction, who was now getting up from the table. “Did he tell you something?”

“No?” You answered, because even if Jude was a total asshole, he wasn’t actually rude to you. “I’m just uncomfortable. I don’t think he likes me that much.”

“Why not? You’re the sweetest person ever.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Jude’s voice interrupted you at the last minute.

“Jobe, can we talk for a second?”

“About what?”

“Just come with me to the kitchen, alright?”

Jobe gave you a look of disbelief before following his brother into the next room, leaving you standing in the middle of the living room without knowing what to do. Did you leave and say sorry later? Or was it better to stay and pretend that you were okay with whatever was going on? You sighed, knowing that if you left, you were going to appear as a rude guest as well as a bad friend. So you had no other option but to sit at the table again, looking around to keep your mind occupied.

“Jobe, you really need to start being more careful about who you bring around, okay? Do you really know this girl?”

Woah, what?

“What do you mean by “being careful”? She’s my best friend!”

Not like you wanted to eavesdrop, but... Well, it appears like the walls were very thin.

“Best friend? She’s too old to be your friend! Also, are you sure she’s not your friend just because... You know?”

Hell, Jude Bellingham was a douchebag.

“Why are you telling me this? Stop being a douchebag!” You could tell Jobe was starting to get really pissed; you, on the other side, just felt sad. Did you seem like the type of person to befriend someone just for their fame? “That’s so fucked up.”

Well, it was fucked up.

“I’m just trying to protect you!” Jude said, raising his voice just a bit. “You know how many people approach us just because we’re a bit famous. You don’t have any idea how many people want a taste of it, and they’ll do anything to get some.”

“Well, she’s not like that! I know her very well, she’s been my friend all these months while you were away with mom. She’s not a cloud chaser, so stop being rude towards her! She can hear us, you know?”

“No, she can’t!”

“I actually can!” You said a bit louder than you wanted, giggling when a loud “Fuck!” came from the kitchen. “No worries, I just got offended by your very wrong assumptions about me, nothing serious!”

There was a silence for a few seconds before they both came back to the living room, their faces covered in a mix of shame and guilt that almost made you laugh. Almost. You tried to feel anger towards Jude, since he was the biggest asshole you’d ever met so far, but you couldn’t. Was he trying to protect his brother? Yeah. Was this the best way to do so? Nah.

“I’m the same age as you, by the way. Not that old.” You said after a few seconds, gaining half a smile from Jobe, who looked at his brother, waiting for a response.

“Look, I’m sorry about...” Jude started, but you held a hand in the air, stopping him from continuing.

“Don’t bother, I get it.” You stood up, unsure about what to do next. “But next time, try to keep your voice a bit lower so the next girl that tries to take advantage of your brother’s fame doesn't eavesdrop on the whole conversation.” You held back the giggle that wanted to come out of your mouth when Jude gave you the most embarrassed look you’d ever seen on a man’s face ever. “Anyways, you still want to go to that store from earlier?” You asked in Jobe’s direction, trying to play it cool until you were both out of the house.

“I sure do.” Jobe said, palming his brother’s shoulder before walking towards you.

You let him guide you to the exit, but before you could manage to get out, you turned around. Jude was still standing there, looking at both of you with guilt.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Was the last thing you said before leaving.

Needless to say that what happened that day was the star of every inside joke between you two for a couple of months, even after you made peace with Jude, slowly becoming amicable strangers along the weeks he was visiting from time to time. He still managed to smile a bit when you brought up the subject, even though you knew one tiny piece of him died every time he was reminded of his past behavior.

Let’s just say you enjoyed his suffering. So you did it a lot.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE'S TAGLIST

#jobe bellingham #idk what this is #im sorry #football blurb #footballer blurb #jude bellingham #jb22 #jb27 #bellingham brothers

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sleepy--anon · 7 months

Text

Day 4: Weak Spot

You can still reserve unmarked days

Warnings: Intense tickles, restraints, mentioned romantic dreamnotnap, romantic dreamnap, mention of nsfw relations, explicit language

Reserved by @mushiewrites

The three boys were finally beginning to settle into life as a throuple, learning different boundaries and who's into what. It was apparent that Dream and Sapnap were the more openly affectionate ones where as George seemed to be more of an acts of service type of lover. He would cook, clean, do little things for them as a way of expressing his love. Sapnap and Dream were clearly more on the Words of Affirmation and Touch side of things, preferring to cuddle and say 'I love you' and through out compliments like candy on Halloween. Today was no different, George had cooked the two dinner and cleaned up before leaving to see a movie with Hannah, Sylvee, and Skeppy, and Dream and Sapnap laid curled up together on Sapnap’s bed.

"How many people do you think would be surprised by this image?" Sapnap asked, showing Dream his phone, displaying the picture he just took of him pressed against his chest.

"Look, I like being little spoon, nothing wrong with that! You're warm and you hold me nice. Plus I like your smell, you always smell good" He fluttered his eyelashes up at his boyfriend, just barely hearing him mutter something about him being a flatterer over his heartbeat, slow, loud, and rhythmic.

"Stoooopp! You're gonna put me to sleeeep!" Dream whined, softly batting the hand in his hair.

"You're so rude! What happened to your manners" Sap lightheartedly teased back, carefully rolling him onto his back, looking down at him fondly.

"I guess you didn't fuck them into me hard enough~" Sapnap’s jaw dropped, not expecting something like that out of Dream, George sure, but Dream?! Once the shock faded it turned into a dark look, one that got Dream’s heart skipping every time he saw it. He looked up at him with doe eyes, sliding his hands up his arms to his shoulders, pulling him down to kiss him.

"Sounds like I need to take a different approach~" Sapnap purred against his lips, biting the bottom one softly, earning a small tug to the back of his curls.

"Oooo~ You gonna spank me this time~?" What has gotten into him lately?? Whatever it was, it wasn't what Sapnap had in mind. He trailed his kisses down his neck,knowing full well his eyes fell closed. He slid Dream’s hands up, locking them in the leather cuffs that were still on his bed frame, sliding his hands down as he came back up to kiss him again.

"I had something else in mind~" Was the only thing Sapnap said before digging into Dream’s stomach, a well known weak spot for the tall blonde, one that Sapnap loved to abuse as often as he could. He heard the immediate clang of Dream yanking his wrists in surprise, bucking his hips up but not doing much with how Sapnap was laid across his hips.

"I figured this might get through to you a little better~" He crooned, sliding his hoodie and shirt up painfully slow.

"NO! No cohome ohohon! I thought we were being nice today! You were mean yesterday!" Dream whined, squirming as much as he could, which wasn't very much.

"You wanted to test me today, I just so happen to have a lack of patience today~" Sapnap chuckled at the harsh flinch when he leaned down to kiss his blushing tummy. Tracing circles around his bellybutton like a shark.

"All you have to do is apologize and say you'll behave~" Dream could barely comprehend what was said, it took him a bit before shaking his head.

"Nohohohoho, juhuhust dohohon't dohohoho ihihit!"

"That's not an option to pick my darling~" Sapnap slid his hands to his lightly freckled sides and dropped down to press the biggest, deepest raspberry right below his sternum. Dream shrieked at the top of his lungs, head flung back, feet kicking wildly, if they didn't live where they did the neighbors definitely would've called the police. Dream sucked in as much air as he could while Sapnap giggled at his reaction.

"Stohop lahaughing at mehehehe!"

"I'm not laughing at you gorgeous, you're just so damn cute~!"

"FUHUHUCK!" Dream screamed loudly, his laughter almost sounding like only screams as Sapnap pressed tiny raspberries along his sides while he teased his bellybutton, somehow only touching with his nail. It wasn't until he added his teeth when Dream started to break, his laughter going silent for a seconds before coming back. His looked up as he slowly nibbled closer to the middle of his tummy, seeing Dream's face soaked with tears, waving his trapped hand. He paused, only pressing firm kisses to the red belly.

"Fuhuhuhckin hehehehell, I'm sohohohorry. I'll be behahahave I swehehear." Sapnap moved up, kissing his tear soaked face, carefully releasing his wrists, moving them back into their original position. Dream pressed himself impossibly close to Sapnap, rubbing his face against his shoulder like a sleepy baby, before making himself comfortable. He nudged him twice before he understood what he wanted, moving his hand up to play with his hair as he fell asleep, sending George a picture of the aftermath which he quickly made his lockscreen.

#augtickletober2023 #mushiewrites #mushie tag #dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle fic #mcyt tickle #lee!dream #ler!sapnap #dreamnap #dreamnotnap #dnn #sleepy's fics

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lostinhisworld · 3 months

Note

Part 2 for the rafe x sister ?

ah i'm so sorry this has taken me so long. i got a few different requests for a part 2 so i just chose a random one. rafe cameron x sister!reader. she/her pronouns used. p1

her trembling hands clutched her brother's tear-stained shirt, clinging to him for support. two pairs of tired eyes staring into each other as they shared their deepest secrets, allowing glimpses of the pain that had led them to make the wrong choices.

"i just wanted to be chosen for once," the younger one whispered, voice muffled by the fabric of the boy's clothes. "and for a while i was. i mean, i know it was just because they all knew i’d always have the money, but it still felt nice.”

Rafe wrapped an arm around the fragile the girl, hugging her tightly. "i just wanted to be different." he explained, his eyes closing in shame. "it’s so embarrassing to say out loud, but i-" he stammered. "i wanted something of my own, something they couldn’t compare me to others with."

shaking her head, she pulled away slightly to see his face. "it's not embarrassing, Rafe, it's real." with a small smile growing on her face, she continued, "but i guess it wasn't really just yours."

he laughed a small laugh as she mumbled an apology through giggles.

his eyes brightened as he watched her. for the first times in months she was smiling a real grin— not a polite smile, faked to please their parents or a manic laugh induced by the drugs, but a real, care-free beam.

they may not be through with their journey to freedom, but he was sure as hell they would make there together.

#netflix #outer banks #obx #drabble #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe angst #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #angst

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rs-wonderland · 1 year

Note

Hello! If requests are open, my deepest apologies if they aren't, may I request Ace, Jamil and Vil with a female s/o that has a beautiful voice singing a song dedicated to them?

Ace:

♡Ace was not expecting you to actually sing when he asked you to. He thought you don't know, bc you never do, but oh boy was he wrong.

♡He think it so cool that you know how to sing! And now he knows he can take you to karaoke nights.

♡Probably shows it off to everyone that you can sing, bc he thinks no one else can. That also bothers Deuce, a lot.

♡Would challenge you to a singing competition at the most bizarre parts of the day. Be it in the classroom, in the middle of your cuddling or while cooking dinner.

♡Makes you sing to him every night he spends at you're dorm or you're just hanging out.

♡When you first sing a song dedicated to him he was all red in the face. Something in his heart just stoped when you did, he couldn't tell what it was, but he also couldn't say that he doesn't like it.

♡Tries to make a song dedicated to you in return, but he got yelled at by Deuce and kicked out of the room bc he was yelling to much.

♡Got you singing at unbirthday parties. (Also got Riddle to agree somehow)

Jamil:

♡Ohhhh, you're voice made someone blush~

♡Was like a little kid when he heared you sing for the first time. "You know how to sing!? Since when!? No-! I did not say i don't like it!"

♡Kalim made you both sing once, and know everytime one of you two sings the other one must join them.

♡Likes when you two cuddle in his room, you playing with his hair singing his favorite song. To him, it feels like a dream.

♡Doesn't mind when you sing in front of someone else, but however he wouldn't bring it out in conversation with anyone.

♡A song dedicated to him, and singed by your angel like voice, it's like a heaven to him. Sings one back to you too! He writed one way back before you two even started dating.

♡You two make a show everytime you cook together alone. (Not knowing that some scarabian students are listening to you)

Vil:

♡Is suprised by the beauty of your voice, i mean he didn't thought you voice was ugly or anything, but your singing! Your singing is the most beautiful in whole wonderland.

♡Vil will try and teach you how to train your voice, so you could sing the most high and low musical notes.

♡Will show off you're and his work at one of the dinners in pomfiore. Loves seeing everyones look on there faces when they hear his patatoes singing. (Makes him smirk)

♡Would really like if you could sing to him when he does his morning routine. (Probably use you like a radio)

♡Now when he hears a song dedicated to him by you, it make his ego bigger than Leonas! He is so happy and proud of you!

♡Would sing you a song in return one morning when you wake up beside him.

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arromantica-lucha · 8 months

Text

i got a lot of thoughts about loveless by alice oseman and if this post seems very one sided well thats just how it read to me. my opinion isnt the end-all and i value how everyone interpreted and was affected by this book. this isnt a closed topic lets talk about it

gripes with loveless by alice oseman

took a while to actually explain that ace and aro are two separate identities and still not that well. it makes aro seem like a subset of ace which is entirely false. its cool there was an aroallo character involved but still

the book title 'loveless' is a real term and identity and the entirety of the book kinda shits on it by enforcing the ideal that its still okay to be aspec cause platonic love can be experienced and any type of love is required or at least better than "not feeling anything and being alone forever"

it was weird for her friends to forgive her over gestures that had nothing to do with apologizing before georgia actually apologized and explained but that may just be more of a personal thing that i didnt like. likewise the story being about platonic love it kinda sucks her deepest connection is with her roommate and not the people shes known for years and wronged

kinda sex negative. i mean rooney says she doesnt dislike casual sex but then that whole thing becomes the reason she hates herself and a reason to cope with being "unloveable" and its kinda lame. you can tell that story without making it seem like casual sex is just a means of devaluing yourself. and you can be sex repulsed and still not do that. it just feels unfair to aroallo people especially who are told they are monsters for enjoying and only wanting casual sex when this book is supposed to be about aromanticism too

(can we also be done with harry potter references??? lets stop hurting trans and jewish people thanks)

basically particular identities' stories shouldnt come at the expense of others and other ways of life. its great and important to write different experiences because no one is gonna relate to them all but no one has to replace romantic love with ANY type of love to feel good about themselves and be human. loveless and aplatonic people shouldnt have to read something that uses rhetoric against their identities within a book about aspec people

things i like about loveless

i didnt relate to it personally but the experiences felt very genuine. internalized aphobia, being hounded by aphobic comments, finding it hard to portray love even in a fictional or artistic sense, etc.

I appreciate the references to race and intersectionality that come with being queer even if they were minimal. so few times is it actually acknowledged that there is privilege when it comes to being understood, coming out, being accepted, etc. the references to that were nice to see because too often intersectionality being brought up is brushed off and blatantly ignored or people pretend like they understand

it was written by someone who is aroace even if there are some things that can be less isolating within the aspec community with the language being used. someone being open about their identities and how they choose to define them in the mainstream world is how we get more peoples voices in there

it has helped people discover their own identity though id still recommend further research on the actual identities being named and ones not named. these stories are the first introduction of aspec identities in mainstream and that hopefully means itll start to expand to other identities within that community that have not yet had representation

this should be the start of developing more rep. the first takes are not gonna represent everyone and its a good thing it exists to tell a few peoples story. but that doesnt mean it should be free from any criticism because thats how we make them continuously better. i hope to see an aroallo character soon. i want the term loveless to be properly used in media and expressed for what it is. i want to stop pretending like ace is the umbrella term for all aspec identities. i want amatonormativity explained as the sociological term it is that harms all life not just aromantic and polyamorous people. i want a polyam aspec character and polyam characters in general. i want disabled and ethnic aspec characters where the intersectionality is just as important to the narrative. i want a whole lot more and to stop prentending like any of that should be unreasonable

#loveless #alice oseman #osemanverse #aromantic #arospec #aspec #aroace #aroallo #loveless aromantic #loveless aro #queer #lgbtqia #made this sideblog specifically for this post

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landofzero-archive · 7 months

Text

Ibara Saegusa - The Venomous Snake's Intrigue

Event: Kiseki ★ Blitzkrieg Autumn Live

Episode 1:

(Location: Adam’s Private Room)

Ibara: If it isn’t Anzu-san! You’re as beautiful as ever today!

Your skin is absolutely glowing! That must mean you got a good night’s sleep last night!

It must be hard to even just move around, so I hope you aren’t too tired!

Option 1: You’re always in high spirits aren’t you.

(Response A)

Ibara: Ahaha, I’ve been like this since I woke up in the morning! I’ve learned to live a regular lifestyle!

Is it like being in the military, you ask? Well, I’ve certainly been in an environment like that!

Saying “Salute~☆” is also a remnant of those days!

(Response B)

Ibara: Oops? Were you perhaps taken aback?

My deepest apologies! I can hardly stomach making such an important customer feel uncomfortable!

I will make sure this kind of misbehavior never happens again…… Please forgive me!

Option 2: I went to a hot spring.

(Response A)

Ibara: Haha, I see! That beautiful skin is also due to the effects of the hot spring!

Relieve your fatigue and get beautiful skin! I didn’t know there was a secret hot spring nearby!

I can feel the blood of a businessman in my veins! Ahaha♪

(Response B)

Ibara: Hot spring? Ah, now that I think about it you had to change your accommodations last minute, didn’t you!

Yuzuru got involved, huh…… It’s a pity you didn’t get to stay at the hotel we arranged for you!

If you have a chance to come here again then please do stay with us!

Episode 2:

(Location: Adam’s Private Room)

Ibara: By the way, Anzu-san, where are you going this morning?

I couldn’t find Isara-san, so I was wondering if perhaps he was with you?

Ah, I just asked out of curiosity! You don’t have to force yourself to answer♪

Option 1: Then it’s a secret.

(Response A)

Ibara: Ahaha, Anzu-san is so secretive! Mysterious……☆

What’s that? If I tell you about myself then you’ll tell me your secret?

An unexpected exchange condition! You’re quite a “go-getter” Anzu-san! Ahaha♪

(Response B)

Ibara: Hm, I see…… Anzu-san and Isara-san have a secret relationship, and–

Oops, you dropped your tablet! Did I upset you?

That tablet costs quite a bit of money so be careful while handling it!

Option 2: A-Actually……

(Response A)

Ibara: Eh, you two got lost?

If you had contacted me, then I would have rushed to you at the speed of light! Oh, what a shame!

You should know my contact information. Just in case, I’ll give you another business card! (He hands out his business card)

(Response B)

Ibara: Hmmm, actually……? There’s no continuation!

Maybe there’s something deep between the two of you that I can’t fully understand……!?

Ahaha! I’m very sorry, I’ll refrain from my pointless prying for now!

Episode 3:

(Location: Adam’s Autumn Live Stage)

Ibara: Your Excellency~! Where are you, Your Excellency~?

Oh, if it isn’t Anzu-san! Finally, the real Autumn Live show is about to begin!

Let’s be fair today! Or rather, please be gentle! Ahaha☆

Option 1: …… I look forward to working with you.

(Response A)

Ibara: Oh, you turned away!

Hmm~…… Did Yuzuru say something to you?

However, I believe in Anzu-san! I’m not the type to believe in gossip that has no basis in facts……☆

(Response B)

Ibara: Oh? What’s wrong, Anzu-san?

Could it be something to do with me……!? I’m sorry! I deeply apologize!

So please join me in creating a perfect live show!

Option 2: What were you doing?

(Response A)

Ibara: Ah, have you seen His Excellency? He disappeared the moment I took my eyes off him!

Eh, he was looking at the ground over there?

Ahaha, it’s pretty much as I expected! Thank you very much, Anzu-san! Salute~☆

(Response B)

Ibara: Ah, that’s right! Actually, His Excellency has suddenly disappeared again!

I’m sure he’ll be back by the time the show starts!

There is a possibility that his precious costume with be covered in mud, so I must aim to collect him as soon as possible!

#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #ibara saegusa #era: !#type: mini talk

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tragedytells-tales · 9 months

Note

I just read your "how lucifer waks the others up" post and I loved it.

I was wondering if your willing to do a follow up to it if you haven't already. Or maybe another follow up if you did.

How do you think it would go for a mc who suffers from insomnia and didn't realize it was morning, and/or a mc who has death sleeps? (Sleeping so deeply that unless you are a trained medical professional you can't even tell they are alive)

Also remember to take care of yourself or a self care goblin will magicfy your joints to puppet you around and force you to do it instead. (Platonic) Love you! <3

How Lucifer wakes up an

MC, explained badly

Notes - GN!MC, Unsure what genre this counts as with a hint of crack, Request, One MC has insomnia and the other sleeps incredibly deep, follow up from How Lucifer Wakes Up the Crew When They Sleep in, but Explained Badly, feat. Lucifer ( hints of Satan and Belphegor )

Summary - How Lucifer wakes up an MC with Insomnia, and an MC who death sleeps.

Warnings - I did the best I could to research insomnia, so my deepest apologies if I got something wrong, not proof read.

TW - Slight mentions of death

Lucifer vs insomnia, but explained badly:

- I would say that he knows about MCs insomnia since he should've read over their medical records, but knowing how he picked them, I'm pressing X to doubt. However.

If he did know then:

- He makes sure that on nights where they can't sleep, then he let's them try their normal "try to get sleep" routine. If that doesn't work and they come to him for help/he hears them awake at ungodly hours because he was also awake, then he helps them get rest.

- This includes making them some demonic sleepy time tea, forcing Belphegor to help them through sloth magic, or making sure they've taken their medication if they have some.

- He knows that humans need at least eight hours of sleep in order for their body not to commit self destruct, so he's making sure they get rest. For nights where they don't get rest then they get to skip RAD and screw up their non-existent sleep schedule to get some rest.

And if he didn't know:

- Since his normal "rise and shine" routine normally includes just knocking on MCs door to check if they're awake, so if they make noise after he does that then he just assumes they woke up earlier and moves on to wake up someone else.

( Note: Once he sees how absolutely dead tired they look, they're not convincing him that they're fine and don't need a low dose of death tea or a two by four for some rest. )

- But if they don't give him a sign that they're awake or they make a loud noise after getting startled by the knock, then he peeks into their room to make sure they're up/okay.

Lucifer: Hello, we have to leave in 30 minutes, be dressed and ready by then.

MC: Oh damn- it's already morning, how?? I swear it was just midnight-

- Concern. Hypocritical concern.

- Once they tell him that they have insomnia, because he absolutely notices how dead tired they look, he'll likely question how he didn't know/notice for a few seconds before telling them that they're staying home to get rest.

- He'll make sure they either have some death sleepy time tea, a dose of Belphegor magic, or find some other natural remedy that's safe for humans to use. If they take medication for it then he'll make sure they take it at the correct time so they don't accidentally pull an all nighter again.

- He'll likely start checking on them at night to make sure they're sleeping. And if they're awake when he goes to wake them up due to a not sleeping spree, then he's knocking them out one way or another.

- Overall, he still doesn't wake them up unless it's important but is more inclined to let them sleep in if needed.

Lucifer vs death sleeps, but explained badly:

- One would assume he knew beforehand, since medical records, but I am pressing X to doubt he wasn't on his 5th cup of coffee when he picked MC.

But if he knew:

- He likely would've spent most of his time until MC got there researching how to wake them up and how to check if they were dead. He even practices the wake up procedure on Belphegor to make sure he has it down.

- The rise and shine routine of knocking and only checking if they're not awake continues, but this time he'll enter to wake them up properly and leave once they're awake.

But, Diavolo curse him, if he didn't know:

- The first time he has to wake them up he thought he killed the human as if they were a goldfish and lost his shit for a few minutes until Satan explained that MC simply sleeps like literal a rock. Which Satan then makes extreme fun of him for.

- He takes a second to question how he didn't notice that on their file before getting someone, maybe Belphegor, Satan, or Barbatos, to wake them up. Afterwards he spends a good chunk of time researching and learning how to safely wake MC.

- The rise and shine routine still goes the exact same, except MC is now the first person he visits and his visit is earlier than everyone else's just in case he has to wake them up. If not, then he'll continue on as normal.

AN - The self care goblin is a new creature I'm adding to my pokedex, thank you anon! I personally headcanon that Lucifer has insomnia and sucks at opening up to anyone about it, so this was fun. My apologies for the death sleep bit being short, I didn't know much about it and couldn't find anything specific about it, feel free to correct me if I got something wrong.

#obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me luficer #obey me headcanons #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me gn!mc #[ 📜 ] requests

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dawninlatin · 1 year

Text

Queen of Peace, chapter 19

A manorian High School AU

Words: 4,7k

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

cw: sexually explicit content

that's right guys, you're getting smut;););)

please excuse any mistakes though (and how bad the smut is) because it's 4am here, i just finished the longest chapter i've ever written, and i need to fucking sleep<3

You only get one night upon the shore

So dance like you’ve never danced before

And the dance floor is filling up with blood

But, oh, Lord, you’ve never been so in love

- Florence + The Machine, Mermaids

Dorian glanced at Manon for what was probably the hundredth time in the fifteen minutes they’d been sitting in the library, working on their homework together.

She looked entirely consumed by her math problems, but Dorian knew her well enough by now to notice the tension in her jaw, how high her shoulders were. The whole day, really, she’d seemed…off.

He’d wanted to ask her about it earlier, but the whole day had been a whirlwind of catching up with friends he hadn’t seen for weeks, teachers bombarding them with fresh assignments, and just trying to stay awake after waking up so early again.

Now, though, things had calmed down at the end of the day, and Dorian finally asked, «Is everything alright?»

Manon didn’t even look up from her notebook, she just shrugged. «Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?»

To anyone else, she might have been convincing, but Dorian noted how hard she stared at the book in front of her, how her voice was a little too light.

«Are you sure? You just seem a little…tired today.»

She sighed, before finally looking up, meeting his eyes. Her own had dark circles underneath, giving further confirmation to Dorian’s worries.

«I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and then I show up here and we get way more assignments than I had expected, and we’re not where we should be with the dance team, and-»

Manon halted, squeezing her eyes shut. «Sorry, you don’t wanna hear about all this.»

The last words came out as a whisper, and she looked down at the table once more. Reaching over and taking her hand in his, Dorian said, «Don’t apologize, please. You can always talk to me.»

She didn’t answer, only stroked his hand once, twice. He could tell that there was something else on her mind, but Dorian knew when to stop pushing. They could talk about it later, when Manon was ready.

After a few moments, she gave him a teasing smile, glancing up at him. «As soon as I finish these math problems things will get ten times better. You don’t happen to be an expert on differential equations, do you?»

Dorian snorted. «I sit next to Aelin in that class, so I rarely have any idea what Mr. Kelley is talking about.»

«He’s the teacher who doesn’t give a shit, right?» Manon said with a chuckle, the she cringed. «I was lucky enough to get Mrs. Hughes for the second year in a row.»

«You have my deepest condolences,» Dorian said, putting a fist to his heart as he recalled countless horror stories from other students about the teacher. She loved giving huge assignments without warning and with way too little time to finish them, rarely gave anyone above a B- out of principle, and should have retired about twenty years ago.

Manon was laughing though, her eyes seeming a bit more alive. «I heard she actually got fired once, but they couldn’t get anyone else, so they had to rehire her.»

«This gives me a newfound admiration of Mr. Kelley, you know? He wants to be there as little as we do, and honestly, he’s so real for that.»

«Is it true that he just let someone sleep through an entire lesson once?»

Grinning, Dorian said, «Not just once. He believes that if someone doesn’t want to learn, then that’s not his problem, and if they’re not disturbing him, he doesn’t give a shit.»

«Ugh, why did you get all the fun teachers?» Manon fake-whined, rolling her eyes.

Dorian batted his lashes as he joked, «I guess someone as talented and good-looking as me simply deserve it.»

«Can you make out with a mirror somewhere else, please? I’m trying to do math here.» Manon gagged for emphasis, and then they both lost it, dissolving into giggles, homework forgotten.

These study dates were fun, but they also had a habit of distracting each other so much they rarely got any work done. Not that Dorian minded, though.

«Hey, do you have any plans this Saturday?» Dorian asked when the laughter had died down, suddenly remembering another question he’d been meaning to ask.

Manon closed her book, giving up on the homework for now. Raising a single eyebrow, she replied, «Nope. I’m actually home alone this weekend.»

«Well so is Aelin, and she’s throwing a party, obviously,» Dorian smirked, remembering Aelin’s excited rambling from earlier that day:

«Those idiots has asked my cousin Aedion to ‘keep an eye on me’, so he’s obviously getting us booze and not saying a word about the party as long as he gets to join!»

«Would you perhaps like to go with me?» He gave Manon his best pleading eyes as he asked, hoping and praying she would say yes. When she didn’t answer, he added, «I promise it’ll be fun, and we can leave whenever you want.»

Humming, as if deep in thought, Manon stood up, walking over to Dorian’s side of the table. He pushed his chair out to stand up as well, but before he got the chance, she gracefully sat down on his lap, hands resting on his shoulders.

«I suppose I could…» Manon replied. «Would your friends even want me there?» The question was careful.

Dorian brought his hands to her back, going up and down in lazy strokes. That she even worried about this brought a stinging sensation to his chest. «Of course they would. They know I care about you, and I think you’ll get along pretty well, once you get to know each other.»

He actually worried a little, for the chaos that would unfold when Manon and Aelin eventually became friends and ganged up on the rest of them. He was mostly excited, though, because no doubt Chaol would be the one suffering the most.

«How much have you told them about us?» Manon chewed on her lip as she asked, playing with his hair.

«That we’re friends, but also…more.» They still hadn’t defined whatever was between them, even if Dorian knew exactly what he wanted. He had known for a while though, he just needed to find the right moment to ask…

Fuck it…

Holding Manon’s gaze, her eyes like golden flames, he took a deep breath. «I would love to introduce you as my girlfriend, though?»

He’d known from the second he’d wanted to ask that there was a big chance she’d say no, but part of him had still hoped, and that hope grew as she smiled slightly.

Then she crashed her lips to his in a hungry kiss. While her hands cupped his face, his own traveled down her back until he got a good hold of her magnificent ass. Manon let out a low moan as he squeezed, and the sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his dick.

Her tongue pushed against his mouth, and he opened for her, yearning for the taste of her.

Dorian wanted more, needed more, but then they both seemed to remember that they actually were in the middle of the school library, and even if they were alone right now, anyone could walk by and see them.

They managed to force themselves apart, and Dorian was surprised he could even speak, since he was in the midst of the single fucking hottest moment of his life, and all that. «Is that a yes, then?»

Her forehead resting against his, Manon breathed, «Yes, I’ll go to the party with you…as your girlfriend.»

A grin spread on Dorian’s face, one that was mirrored on Manon’s, and she let out a bright laugh, the sound of it the most wonderful Dorian had ever heard.

«Can’t wait,» he murmured back, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

«Me neither,» Manon replied, then she stood up, moving back to her own side.

Before Dorian could even register what was happening, she’d gathered up all her things, putting them in her bag. «What…why…» he stammered out.

Giving him a teasing look, Manon said, «We should probably leave before someone catches us and gives us detention. I also have to be home soon.» Her tone got more serious as she said that last part, and Dorian wished they could have stayed in this bubble forever.

He didn’t move, though, and when Manon was done packing, ready to leave, she asked, «Are you coming too?»

Dorian glanced down, then shifted, trying to hide the boner he was currently sporting. «I can not walk out in front of other people right now.» His face was burning as he said the words.

Manon looked confused for a few seconds, before she broke into a taunting smirk, throwing a pointed glance at his lap. «That sounds like your problem to deal with.»

Then she turned around and left, throwing a careless «Goodbye» over her shoulder. Dorian was sure she swung her hips as much as she did on purpose, knowing his eyes would stay locked on them (and her ass, let’s be real here) until she was out of sight, It certainly didn’t help his situation.

Oh, how he fucking needed it to be Saturday already.

When Manon had agreed to go to the party with Dorian, she had still been a little skeptical, but now, as she walked up to Aelin’s house, hand in hand with her boyfriend, she felt nothing but excitement.

Naturally, meeting and hanging out with his friends made her a little nervous, but she trusted Dorian, believed in him, when he said everything would be fine.

Already, it was filling up with people, the bass of some pop song pulsating out into the cold January night.

Dorian stopped right before the porch, turning towards Manon. «Ready?»

Letting out a foggy breath, Manon gave him a bright smile, reaching up on her toes to press a kiss to his mouth. «Lead the way,» she said, before Dorian brought his arm around her shoulders, tucking her in close.

Together, they entered the house, Dorian taking them right to a spacious kitchen, where Aelin, Chaol, and a few other people Manon recognized from school, were in the midst of an eager discussion.

Immediately, Aelin spotted them and leapt from where she was cozied up to Rowan Whitethorn. «You made it!» she exclaimed, throwing herself around Dorian. Manon didn’t really know what to do with herself, so she just stood there, giving Aelin an awkard hi once she was done embracing Dorian.

Manon had expected a short, somewhat friendly greeting in return, but Aelin had to be pretty drunk already, because to Manon’s great surprise, she threw her arms around her as well. Manon stiffened at first, unsure what to do, but then decided to just roll with it and return the hug. She threw a questioning look at Dorian, but he simply shrugged, giving her a warm smile.

«I’m so glad you wanted to come, too!» Aelin said as she took a step back. Then she turned towards Dorian again, pointing a finger at him. «It was about time you brought your girlfriend around!»

Dorian smirked in answer, and it quickly became clear that Aelin had said it as a taunt, having no idea that as of five days ago, they actually were official, because she went entirely still, then her eyes slowly widened, mouth gaping.

«You ass! You have a girlfriend now and you didn’t tell me?! When did this happen? Give. Me. All. The. Details.» Aelin punctuated those last words by whacking his arm, Dorian twisting away, walking further into the kitchen, to escape the interrogation.

Manon took in the spectacle with a grin, feeling giddy and light, both at being referred to as Dorian’s girlfriend and at the warm welcome. Looking around, she met the eyes of Chaol, Dorian’s other best friend, who gave her a wry smile, then gestured towards Aelin and Dorian. «Good to see you, just help yourself to anything in the fridge while these two wrestle.»

They stayed in the kitchen for a while longer, chatting, drinking and laughing together, music blasting through the house as even more people arrived. Aelin had shrugged when Chaol asked, a simple «Aedion» being her only explanation.

Happy to mostly observe the friendly banter, Manon stuck to Dorian’s side, taking the occasional sip from her second beer. She found herself relaxing more and more, and not only because of the alcohol.

It was so nice to not worry about anything for once, to just be. No expectations, no demands. Manon needed this after the week she’d had, full of important assignments, tests, and…everything else churning in her mind. She’d promised herself not to think about that tonight, and she would keep that promise.

Instead, she leaned further into Dorian, snorting as he told the story of how him and Aelin had made a bet on how long they could keep a carton of milk hidden in their middle school classroom, and how in the end, it had smelled so bad they needed to have class in the library for three days.

«The best part is, we never even got caught,» Aelin stated proudly, high-fiving Dorian.

«I think putting you two in detention would have caused more trouble than it was worth,» Manon found herself replying, earning a slightly maniacal grin from Aelin.

Dorian laughed, his whole body shaking against hers. «It would have been absolute chaos.»

«And you two would probably have found some way to pull me into it,» Chaol sighed, which made them all howl.

Soon after, Rowan announced he was going to see if Lorcan had showed up yet.

Aelin grimaced. «Ew, tell him to fuck off, will you?»

He knocked back his drink, then pressed a kiss to Aelin’s lips. «Anything for you, babe.»

Both Dorian and Chaol pretended to gag at the sight, but Aelin just blew Rowan a kiss as he left, then turned her attention back to the rest of the group.

«Anyone wanna play beer pong?»

Dorian and Chaol more or less got their asses kicked. Dorian had first tried to team up with Manon, but Aelin had protested, claiming that both him and Chaol sucked, and therefore she wanted to be on Manon’s team. Manon had just smirked, flipping them off over her shoulder as she joined Aelin.

It was a terrifying sight, really, but it was also everything he had wanted for tonight, to see Manon getting along with his friends, having fun, even. And after their massive win, Aelin had dragged her towards the dance floor, claiming they had to celebrate, and that this song was amazing!

Manon had easily followed, laughing the entire time.

«You two seem really good together,» Chaol now said from next to him, nodding towards the two girls.

Dorian smiled, savoring the warm, fuzzy feeling in his body. «Yeah, she is just…»

Everything, he wanted to say, but one look at Chaol told him that his best friend knew exactly what Dorian meant.

Chaol’s expression softened. «It’s nice to finally see you so happy. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.»

«Thanks, man,» Dorian whispered back, suddenly getting emotional. Because he was happy.

He was so indescribably happy.

Looking over at Manon only heightened the feeling. She was dancing with Aelin, and he could see that she definitely knew what she was doing, her lithe body moving smoothly in time with the music, but it was also something carefree over her, something relaxed.

She looked luminous where she moved in the middle of the room, head tipped back in laughter even while she still danced, her hair cascading down her back, glowing in the low light. She was surrounded by dozens of people, but Dorian only saw her.

Then Manon turned around, her eyes locking with his, giving him a bright smile. Dorian wished he had taken a photograph of her in that exact moment, cheeks tinged with pink, golden eyes shining with joy, but he knew if he had, he would have never stopped looking at it.

All Dorian wanted was to close the distance between them and crush his lips against hers, then find somewhere they could be alone. He needed to feel her, taste her.

Manon must have seen the hunger in his eyes, because her smile fell, replaced by something just as wanting, something intense, all-consuming. She motioned towards the dimly lit, less-crowded hallway, and Dorian gave her a confirming nod.

He watched as Manon said something to Aelin, then left the room. Dorian made himself count to ten, before he made up some excuse to Chaol as well, then followed her.

As soon as he stepped away from the crowd, into the more private hallway, Manon was on him, pulling him against her. Their lips met in a hungry kiss, tongue’s clashing, eager to taste one another. Dorian’s hands immediately went to her hair, the long strands like the softest silk against his fingers.

While Dorian slowly backed them towards the wall, Manon’s hands roamed up and down his chest, exploring. She hit the wall with a soft thud, her body flush with his.

Dorian sucked on her lower lip, which made Manon let out a low moan, the sound going straight to Dorian’s hardening cock.

Needing a moment to breathe, Dorian forced himself to pull away. He braced his arms on either side of her head, both of them panting.

«Is there somewhere we can…» Manon began, chewing on her lip.

It took everything in Dorian to not lean down and capture that lip between his own teeth. Instead he nodded, leading her towards what he knew was the guest room.

Manon needed to be as close to Dorian as possible right now. She had never been so sure of anything in her life.

Holding her hands in his, he led them up the stairs, and into an empty bedroom, door closing behind them and reducing the noise of the party to a low, thrumming heartbeat.

Her own heart was hammering right now, but not from nerves, only from pure need.

So Manon reached up, claiming Dorian’s mouth while pushing him towards the bed in the center of the room with hurried steps.

He sat down, pulling her with him so that her knees rested on either side of him.

Manon could feel his erection pressing against her core, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through her. She rolled her hips once, drawing a groan out of Dorian, who started trailing kisses down her neck.

His hands moved beneath her shirt, slowly lifting it, and Manon found herself panting, «Just so you know, I haven’t done this before.»

He abruptly stopped, Manon mentally cursing herself for opening her stupid mouth. He looked up at her, his hungry expression replaced by that caring gaze she knew so well.

«It’s okay, we don’t have to-»

«I didn’t say I didn’t want to,» Manon interrupted, because she definitely wanted to have sex with him right now. It had been the only thing on her mind as she’d locked eyes with him across the room when she’d been dancing earlier. He’d been smiling from his conversation with Chaol, his deep blue eyes twinkling, his hair perfectly messy. Manon had wanted to brush her fingers through it, see how much more messy she could make it. Had wanted to feel his skin against hers with nothing between them.

Now, though, she felt herself blush under his attentive gaze.

«It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,» Dorian murmured, brushing a featherlight finger over her burning cheek.

Manon knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about. There weren’t that many opportunities to lose your virginity when you spent all your time at home, doing schoolwork, and she was fine with that, but being so unsure of what to do, what to say, was an unusual feeling for her, when she was so used to being in control all the time.

As if reading her thoughts, Dorian said, «If you tell me when something feels good, or when it doesn’t, and I’ll do the same, we’ll be fine. I promise.» He pressed a light kiss to her lips. «And we can stop at any moment if you need to.» Another kiss.

She had never felt so vulnerable before, but that was the thing about Dorian; being vulnerable with him never felt scary or overwhelming, it felt safe, good, even. It made her feel free.

So Manon reached down, taking the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head, before claiming Dorian’s mouth. His hands immediately went to her lace-covered breasts, fingers brushing over her hardening nipples.

Manon moaned in response, urging Dorian to take his own shirt off. The rest of their clothes soon followed, leaving them in only their underwear.

Then Dorian reached behind her to unclasp her bralette, freeing her small breasts. His mouth started trailing down her chest, and right before he reached one of her nipples, he looked up at her, asking, «Is this okay?»

«Uh-huh,» Manon nodded in answer, grinding against him as he finally brought his mouth to that nipple, sucking lightly on the rosy peak. Dorian was fully hard against her now, and Manon rolled her hips, needing more, more, more.

Dorian’s back hit the bed, pulling her with him, then he rolled them over so that he was on top.

He cupped her breasts with his hands, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they then trailed down, down, stopping right before the line of her panties. Before he could even ask, Manon lifted her hips, urging him to take them off and just touch her already. She was burning from within.

Dorian obeyed with a smirk, then brought a single finger to her center, cursing when he found her to already be soaking wet. He stroked that finger up and down her slit, before he thrust it inside her.

Manon moaned, rolling her hips in time with his strokes, her own hands palming him through his boxers.

That finger was soon joined by a second, and when Dorian started applying pressure to her clit, Manon quickly found herself cascading towards release.

«Dorian,» she moaned as she came undone on his fingers, her body going taut, then loose, Dorian’s fingers still stroking her through the entire thing. It was all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

As she came down from her high, Dorian brought his hand up to his mouth, licking it clean. The sight had Manon ready to go again in seconds, and she reached into his boxers, pulling the length of him free.

She’d felt it earlier, that he was big, but her eyes still widened slightly at the sight of him, hard and ready. Dorian groaned as she stroked him once, twice. Meeting his sapphire blue eyes, she said, «I want you. Now.»

Dorian blinked, then leapt off her, discarding his boxers and picking up something from his jeans lying on the floor. Manon let out a low chuckle at his eagerness, but already, she craved the feel of his skin against hers again.

When he returned, Manon saw that the object he’d retrieved was a condom. He made quick work of putting it on, and when he was done, Manon reached up, grabbing his shoulders to pull him back down to her, their mouths meeting in a deep kiss.

She spread her legs to make room for him, and Dorian lined himself up with her core, but then he stopped.

«Are you sure?» Dorian asked one final time, his gaze so intense she couldn’t look away even if she’d wanted to.

«Yes,» Manon breathed, then he so slowly, so gently, pushed into her, all while stroking her clit.

Manon moaned at the sensation, at how he filled her, stretched her open. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t a feeling she was used to.

«You feel so good, you’re so good, Manon» Dorian groaned, and his words made her center throb in pleasure. She had never felt so full.

He gave her a moment to adjust, but Manon soon found herself needing more friction, so when she wriggled her hips, he pulled out slightly before pushing in again. «Tell me if it hurts, right?»

Manon nodded in answer, unable to form words right now.

Dorian soon found a slow, steady rhythm, and Manon started rolling her hips to meet his thrusts.

After a few moments, he stilled, though, and when he didn’t move, Manon asked in a breathless voice, «Why did you stop?»

«Just trying to make it last longer,» Dorian panted, burying his head in her neck.

Stroking up and down his back, Manon suggested surprisingly confidently, «Can I be on top?»

«Fuck yes,» Dorian mumbled against her skin, before he slowly pulled out of her and sat up, tugging her with him.

Manon could have cried at feeling so empty after being so full mere seconds ago, but it didn’t take long before her mouth was on Dorian’s again, and she fisted his cock, positioning him against her core.

They both groaned at the sensation as she gradually sank down on him, this position allowing him to go even deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside her.

She started moving up and down in a slow rhythm, one of Dorian’s hands going back to her clit, the other to her hip, helping in guiding her.

The deep strokes paired with the pressure on her clit made that blissful wave rise again, and Manon let her forehead fall to Dorian’s, her eyes landing on where they were joined.

It was the hottest fucking thing she had ever seen, and stroke by stroke, the wave rose, nearing the edge.

Dorian was shaking beneath her, trying to hold back his own release. «Fuck, Manon.»

«I’m close,» Manon managed to choke out. She sank down on him one final time, right as Dorian pressed his thumb down on her clit, sucking on a sensitive spot on her neck.

She cried out as she came a second time, her whole body tightening. In her pleasure-haze, she was aware of Dorian’s rhythm faltering, him moaning her name against her neck as he joined her in that glorious release.

They clung to each other, staying as close as possible, as the world went quiet. Dorian brought a hand to her face, brushing her hair out of the way, and Manon gave him a soft smile, her body feeling wondrously calm.

«Are you okay?» Dorian whispered, always caring about her wellbeing.

Manon pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips before she whispered back, «More than okay.»

Later, Manon lay cradled in Dorian’s arms, listening to his steady breathing.

She felt almost giddy, even if her eyelids were heavy, moments away from falling asleep.

Tonight had been probably the best night of her life, cliché as it was.

And it had made Manon realize what she’d missed out on, all this time. Not just the partying, but having friends, joking about anything, laughing, feeling so light and free and like she could just be, and no one would fault her for it.

She deserved to feel this way, deserved to be happy. And she deserved to be happy with Dorian. Because how could she go back to her old life, where all that mattered was living up to her grandmother’s impossible expectations, when she had finally learned what it was like to actually live?

Her grandmother could go and fuck herself, Manon decided. She only had a few months left before she could leave that house for good. And until then, she could pretend, she could be good, stay in line, but she refused to give up on all the good things in her life, refused to give up on Dorian.

Taglist: @fireheartfaery @bookishwitchling @gwynethhberdara @darklingswhxore @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @rainbowcheetah512 @mirubyjane @zoyalovesbooks @wishfulimaginings

#manorian #manorian fic #dawninlatin QoP #manon x dorian #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #throne of glass #sarah j maas fanfiction #sarah j maas

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wonder-queen-123 · 6 months

Text

Kurapika x Suicidal Kurta Reader

Kurapika and Y/n have known each other their whole lives, but what neither of them expected was to get separated from each other. Kurapika always looked after Y/n, and helped her with any and everything.

When their clan got attacked, and was wiped out, both Kurapika and Y/n thought that each other had been wiped out as well.

As they got older, Kurapika started forgetting about Y/n, but the latter never forgot him.

When Kurapika and his friends first met during the Hunter Exam, he thought he saw someone similar to his best friend.

No, it couldn’t possibly be her. I mean, this person has longer hair, and is wearing an eyepatch. There’s no way. It has to be somebody else.

As Kurapika was lost in thought, he noticed Tonpa walk over, and hand someone one of his drinks. They took one drink, and immediately spat it out.

“You trying to poison me or something, punk?!” They screamed, trying to calm themself down. “Sorry, it’s just ever since I had that happen in my past, I can sometimes get aggressive. My deepest apologies.” They bowed apologetically, and walked away.

Their past? What happened in their past, and now that I think about it, they look very similar to her. What’s going on?

As Kurapika was staring at the person in front of him, he gasped softly when they turned their head. They have the same colored eyes. Even their hair is the same, but longer. Wait…fire colored eyes? Could it actually be…?

“Hey, Fire Eyes, show us will ya? We’re all dying to see it.” Someone said, trying to get the fire colored eyes person’s attention.

“I already told you! My name is not Fire Eyes! It’s Y/n Simmons! Get it right, and no! I’m not taking my eyepatch off just to show you idiots! Stop asking!”

As soon as Kurapika heard their voice again, he knew almost immediately that it had to be her. Before he could say anything, Mr. Satotz appeared, and told everyone to follow him to the Exams Second Phase.

Kurapika soon lost sight of who he assumed was his friend in the crowd, but had a feeling that he’d catch up with them sooner or later.

As more and more people kept falling further behind, Kurapika noticed it was getting slightly easier to catch up to the person who had been on his mind since he first saw her.

While everyone was running, Y/n adjusted her eyepatch, and then began digging her nails into her arms. Kurapika quickly noticed this, and tried to catch up with her.

He barely tapped her, when she turned around briefly, glanced at him, then turned back around and began picking up her pace slightly.

Wait, could it be…Kurapika? Why’s he here? I thought that…oh my gosh. It- it is him! What?! But-but, I thought that he- how did he-why is he…? I’ve got so many questions racing through my mind right now! What the fuck? My best friend is…

While she was lost in thought, she didn’t realize that she began slowing down, and that the more she slowed down, the further behind she was getting. She took her phone out of her pocket, and went to her camera.

Her left eye was glowing a faint scarlet, and she had tears streaming down her face.

Oh my god. It is him. My best friend is still alive! This is the happiest day of my life

As she stood there crying, Gon and Killua both looked behind them, and were apparently waiting for her. Y/n was so happy to see Kurapika again, that she didn’t realize that two of his friends were waiting for her.

Gon walked over to her, and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

As Gon tried talking to her, the two of them started walking side by side, then started to run.

“Oh I see. So you’ve met Kurapika before? He was your best friend? What happened? Did the two of you get into a fight or something? Ohhh, so your clan got attacked. Wait a second, are you saying that you’re-“ “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying, now would you please quiet down? Look, I’m sorry, but there’s two reasons why I’m wearing this eyepatch. 1) so nobody finds out I’m actually one of the Kurta people, and 2) because I don’t want anyone knowing that only one of my eyes is scarlet. During the attack, the Phantom Troupe killed everyone in my family, and they tried killing me too, but they only managed to take my right eye. I somehow managed to escape with my left eye still intact, and to make sure that nobody finds out about me being Kurta, I’ve decided to wear this eyepatch. I’ve also got colored contacts in, that make my eyes appear like a fire. So, that why people call me ‘Fire Eyes’. It’s actually the name I’m using as an alias…just in case I have another run in with the Troupe. I don’t want any of them to know I’m still alive.” Y/n interrupted.

Now that Gon was aware of Y/n’s situation, he promised to keep it a secret from the others, including Kurapika.

The rest of the First Phase, Gon couldn’t stop thinking about what Y/n told him. Killua tried asking Gon what he was talking about, to which Gon replied with “Sorry Killua, I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone. All I will say though, is that it has something to do with her past. I wish I could tell you more, but a promise is a promise.”

Killua just scoffed, and left it at that.

The rest of the Hunter Exam went by in a flash for Y/n, and she kept checking with Gon to make sure that he didn’t tell anyone. “Eyepatch, I made a promise to you, and I’m planning on keeping that promise for as long as I can. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” Gon reassured.

Even though Y/n felt like she had lost trust in everyone, considering what happened to everyone she knew, she felt like Gon was trustworthy, and felt like she could tell him anything.

As the five of them spent more time around each other, gon quickly began noticing changes in Y/n’s behavior. At first there were subtle changes, like she started to become quieter, and began wearing longer sleeves.

She would also try to avoid using certain words or phrases when talking to anyone other than Gon. Sometimes her left eye would turn scarlet, and she would cover it with her hand, so nobody could see the scarlet color.

Whenever someone would reach for her hand, she’d pull her hand away, or smack the other person’s hand.

After a little while of this happening, Gon decided that it was time to confront her about it. He went to her room and knocked on her door. “G-go away Gon Freecs! Get-get out of here! G-go away!” She stammered, trying to finish what she was doing, while keeping the door closed.

“Patch, let me in. What’s going on? Can you tell me? Please? I want to know.” Gon said, worryingly.

“I said go the fuck away Gon! Damn, you don’t know how to listen do you?!” Y/n snapped.

It took her a few minutes to realize what she just said, and what happened. “G-Gon? Are you still there? I-if you are, I -I-I’m so sorry for snapping like that. I didn’t mean to. I just have a lot going on right now. Can you come back later? I’m sorry.”

Gon wasn’t going away after that outburst, and he didn’t care that he just got screamed at by her. “Patch, look, I’m not leaving you alone. Especially not after that. I understand that you have a lot going on right now, but talk to me about it. It’s not good if you keep all of this bottled up, you know. Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

“Gon! Come here for a second!” Leorio called out. “Killua says he wants to show you something!”

Gon really didn’t want to leave her alone, but he figured a few minutes couldn’t hurt. “Coming Leorio! Give me one second! (To Y/n) Hey, Patch, I’m coming right back. I’m just going to go see what Killua wants to show me. I’m only going to be gone for a few minutes. I’ll be back.”

With Gon gone, she took that opportunity to do what she has been wanting to do for god knows how long. She got her pills open, and began taking handful after handful. She then tied tied her rope to her ceiling fan, and put the noose around her neck.

She made sure to leave her note out in the open, so Kurapika could read it when the door got broken down.

“Goodbye Gon. Goodbye Killua. See you later, Leorio. “I’m sorry, Kurapika, but this is goodbye. Farewell friends, I love you all. The four of you mean the world to me.the five of us forever.”

With that, she stepped off the chair, and began hanging.

When Gon came back, he tried opening the door, only to find that it was still locked. He knocked on the door, begging Y/n to open it for him.

“Patch, please! Please open the door! Come on, Patch!! Don’t do this to me! Don’t do this to us!! Open the door!! Please! Kurapika, Killua, Leorio help me get this door open!! Y/n is in here!”

Killua, Kurapika, and Leorio all looked over at Gon, and gave a questioning look. “Goddamn it! Our friend is in here! Kurapika, your best friend is in here! Help me get this goddamn door open!”

After Gon’s outburst, his friends all began banging on the door, hoping Y/n would answer. As the four of them continued trying to break the door down, Gon suddenly had an idea.

“Everyone stand back, I’m going to try running towards the door, and break it down that way!”

As Gon got a fair distance away from the door, and ran towards it full force, the door broke off the hinges slightly.

Gon ran into the door repeatedly, trying to break it down, and each time he slammed against the door, the more it came off the hinges until it finally broke, allowing the four friends to enter.

As soon as the door was open, the four friends immediately saw Y/n hanging. They ran inside and got her down as quickly as they could, and then checked for her pulse.

“Shit! They're ice cold. Leorio, call an ambulance and hurry! Gon, help me get the rope off her neck! Kullua, can you manipulate your body, and cut the rope to make it easier to get off?” Kurapika shouted, panicking.

Leorio quickly called for an ambulance, while the other three tried to get the rope off Y/n’s neck.

“The ambulance is on the way!” Leorio shouted, rushing to his friends. That’s when he noticed the pill bottle on the floor. He picked it up, and examined the label closely. “Shit! Kurapika, we need to try to wake her up, and try to get her to throw up the pills! Of course, I don’t know if we’ll be able to wake her up, seeing as the pills she took are fast working, and can be fatal!”

“You’re telling us this now, Leorio?! Fuck! Why didn’t you tell us as soon as we ran inside?!”

“Don’t look at me! You’re the one who told me to call for an ambulance, so why’re you getting mad at me?!”

“Would the both of you shut up?! You can argue later! For now we have bigger and more important things to worry about and deal with!”

“He’s right, let’s save the arguing for later. Let’s focus on saving our friend!”

The four of them waited for the ambulance to arrive, and then went with them to the hospital.

Once Y/n got taken in, the four friends waited patiently in the waiting room. A doctor came out a little while later, and told them that they could go see their friend. Kurapika thanked the doctor, and followed them to Y/n’s room.

Upon arriving, the four friends gasped after seeing Y/n.

“Miss Simmons is just fine. We got her stomach pumped, and looked at her neck. Since the four of you got to her when you did, her neck is only bruised, nothing more. She’s stable, but she might need a few days to fully recover.” The doctor said.

As the four friends walked in, the four of them had tears streaming down their faces. Especially Kurapika. “Y/n, I know everything. Gon filled me in about everything you’ve been keeping to yourself. Why would you do that? I would’ve never thought that you had that much going on. I mean, it has been years since we’ve seen each other, but you should’ve told me that you were going through all that. We could’ve help you.”

“Yeah, idiot. Next time tell us what you’re going through, so we can help. It’s not fair if we all laugh and smile and make jokes together, only for you to go home and suffer alone in silence. From now on, let us help you. Baka.”

“Yeah, exactly, Patch. You shouldn’t suffer through something like that alone. And by the way, I know I broke our promise, but Kurapika wasn’t the only one I told. I also told Killua and Leorio. We’re all here for you, so you can talk to any of us about anything.”

The four of them stayed by her side, and refused to leave until they saw her open her eyes. “We abandoned you once, and we’re not going to do it again. Please don’t leave us, Y/n. Please.”

As night began to fall, the four friends were still waiting by Y/n’s bed, hoping that she’ll wake up soon.

“Excuse me guys, but I’m afraid that the four of us will have to start heading home. It’s getting late, and she still needs to rest. I promise I’ll keep the four of you updated.”

The four friends agreed that they would take turns staying with Y/n to keep an eye on her, and keep her safe. Leorio had the first night, and he stuck by his word. He didn’t leave Y/n’s side, and even fell asleep holding her hand.

After a few days, all four friends were back, and Y/n was still asleep. They looked at each other, and were all thinking the same thing.

Please don’t let it come to that.

A doctor walked in the room, and had a sad look on his face. Please no. Don’t let it be that. The doctor approached the four of them, and told them that at this rate, if their friend didn’t wake up soon…then the line would go flat.

This broke the four friends, and they all prayed that their friend would wake up soon.

Another few days pass, and Y/n is still asleep. Before anyone could react, the four friends all heard the one thing they didn’t want to hear. The line went flat, and that meant that they had lost Y/n to suicide.

All four friends broke down in tears, and didn’t want to believe it. “No. Please come back. We need you. I need you. Please don’t leave me. I lost you once, I can’t lose you again! Not after being reunited after so long! Please!” Kurapika cried, not believing his best friend was really gone.

Quick A/N: Sorry it’s so long. This happens a lot whenever I write. First Kurapika x Reader, so I hope it’s not too terrible.

Color code:

blue = Kurapika

Orange = Leorio

Red = Killua

Green = Gon

Purple = Y/n (Reader)

#kurapika x reader #hunter x hunter #mental health #x suicidal reader #hxh x reader #x Kurta Reader #anime x reader #angst

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