#Continued practice in trying to doodle quickly

[kelbunny]

Maybe OOC, but if other fandoms can take lines out of context for shipping purposes, I am allowed to as well.

[cxvii666]

“hoe cakes”

college au! denki kaminari + hanta sero x reader

“i got this girl and she wants me to duke her, i told her i'd come scoop her around eight, she said, super!”

wc: 2k

starting track...

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....

"omg, oh my god!"

denki kaminari bursts into the library, zero tact, completely out of breath, face all flushed, chest heaving, and rushes over to where his friends are sat, nearly knocking over bakugou's laptop as he drops his backpack and practically leaps over the table, to try and talk to sero.

bakugou, who was sat minding his own fucking business, turns his head in absolute disbelief, about to swing on the guy, but pauses at denki's heavy breathing and frazzled state, kirishima's noise of concern is brushed off with a "gimme a second," as the blonde heaves for a minute, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"oh sero, bro," he gasps out finally, "i just saw the baddest girl ever, you gotta come quick."

any concerns over the blondes state quickly washes away and hanta sero looks up from his phone, disinterestedly. "dude, what? where?"

denki takes the seat opposite to his best friend, and points frantically from the direction he just ran from, "outside on the quad, there was a girl, with the hair, and the eyes."

sero, kiri, and bakugou had been in the library for at least three hours now and, god, hanta was bored.

he'd given up on waiting for denki to show face and had gotten so bored that he actually started studying. but damn, he needed a break. he rolls his shoulder with a yawn as he raises an eyebrow at denki.

bakugou sends both of them a death glare before putting his headphones on. hanta pulls a face at him before stretching out his back and then relaxing into his chair, voice dropping to a mock whisper and teases, "bro said 'hair and eyes'."

"just shut up for a sec," denki hisses and slumps down on the table, partially ontop of one of hanta's textbooks, "wow, i really need to start hitting the gym, fuck, my chest hurts."

hanta rolls his eyes at his friends dramatics as he doodles in the margin of his textbook. denki takes his silence as a sign to continue.

"you gotta, just listen- soooo, i'm walking outside by that big tree on the quad becuase it's super windy and i couldn't catch a light, and, oh, i can't even describe her, but yeah, there was one loud smell, and you know me, i had to follow it and BAM there she was with sat behind the bike shed with, what's his name?" he jabs a thumb at kiri, "his friend. y'know the guy with the hair- yeah- uh, they were smoking like-"

his increasing longwinded tale, that is increasingly arising in volume, in very quiet section of the library, is cut off by, a very impolite bakugou clearing his throat, threat clear in his eyes.

it seems like hanta's brain is finally starting to switch on, as his eyes widen at the implication of his denki's words. "oh shit," he wiggles his eyebrows at his friend playfully, his voice still low, "is she still outside? i have to see this..."

"well fucking exactly!" denki 'whispers' back gesturing wildy with is arms, "that's what i've been trying to fucking say but your slow ass keeps asking me questions and-"

the blonde pauses and suddenly snatches up hanta's notebook to cover his face as he ducks.

"and what?" sero repeats, his face scrunching in confusion.

"shut- the fuck up," the break in denki's voice is comical, "holy shit, don't make it obvious, she's behind-"

sero's head whips to the side so fast, i swear there was an audible click. and sure enough, if he tilts his head, and squints to look, in the gaps in between the bookshelves, there you are.

"i said don't make it obvious, you fucking moron."

too late now.

he's staring at you unabashedly as you walk into their section behind two of your friends, easy smile gracing your features, as you all take a seat on one of the open tables across the library.

"oh shit," hanta gulps moving to look at denki, who has now leaned over the table to stare at you from over hanta's shoulder, "she does have hair and eyes."

"what did i just say fucking say, i swear, this guy-"

the blonde is too loud in his ear and hanta pushes his friend's head away with his palm, eyes still on your figure. "have you spoken to her yet?"

"what part are you not getting?" and denki gets all up in his face and pushes his own fingers into hanta's forehead in retaliation, as he repeats, exasperated, "i saw her, and then, i came straight here, to find you!"

"what, oh..." the realisation dawns on him finally and a lazy smirk creeps onto his features, "bro, your superrr freaky, i'm in, hundred percent. do you think she'll be down?"

"you're both fucking idiots, you know that, right?"

bakugou who has seemingly been listening, eavesdropping, in on their conversation, scoffed at his friends.

"i thought you were studying, kacchan?"

kirishima had been sat next to hanta, and when the question in his eyes, that flit between the two grinning fools, goes unanswered by either, bakugou sighs deeply, and points, with violent intent for sure, his mechanical pencil in the direction of the other blonde, his voice gruff, "were you not there? last friday night? when the fuck-squad was playing 'would you rather', talkin' bout-"

"about threesomes!" denki cuts in, grin manic, as hanta snickers opposite him, "ok kiri, lemme' ask you, because we've been debating for like two days, would you rather a threesome with another guy, or two girls? because i- said another guy-"

"wait i am so lost, what-"

"fellas, is it gay to want a threeway with your homie?"

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"bro, hear me out, but this might be fate."

hanta's reply is muffled through a mouthful of pizza.

after not getting kicked out of the library, the two decided, denki decided and hanta had the evening off work, to go into town. initially, denki had sold hanta the idea of beer and ramen, but by the time they got to the high street, the smell of pizza seemed to be calling.

the pizza place was local, and extremely well known by their friend group, and the two had stumbled in, many a night, drunk, or faded, or both. and, directly opposite, happened to be, a record shop.

they'd been in there with jirou maybe once or twice, but it was one of those old buildings that always looked closed.

like right now. from out of the big glass window on the left side of their favourite booth, and they could see the shop front, the lights were out, windows all shut down.

and guess who was right outside of their fucking window, across the street, unlocking the front door.

"where tf are you going?" hanta coughs out in between bites rolling his eyes, because of course, denki is already grabbing his hoodie and fixing to stand up. like they reaally couldn't sit down and eat for five minutes.

"fym, where am i going," he mimics- "a golden opportunity," and again, denki is waving his hands about like a maniac, gesturing vaguely upwards, like universe or some other divine entity had blessed them and hanta was stupid for not getting it, "has just been handed to us, and you don't wanna jump on it?"

it's silent for a beat, only broken by hanta slurping noisily from his straw. he takes a moment to burp loudly and to glance forlornly at their hot pizza. he closes his eyes and sighs, already mourning the taste of the cheese on his tongue, before he resigns himself to whatever the fuckmess of a two man step denki is planning.

"jump on it?"

"jump on it."

"jum- y'know what, fine, lets go, and you can do all the talking."

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"i can't believe you forgot your key again."

the disc your holding nearly slips from your grasp as you move your phone from your ear and set it on the till counter. you click the speaker on and the sound of your coworker's rushed apologies flood the empty store.

you silently shake your head at her panic and place the stray disc back onto the cd tower whilst trying to reassure her softly. it was no big deal, you were already in the area, no, it's not a problem, blah blah.

once the line drops, you figure you might as well start opening the store for the evening and start by switching the big speaker on and slowly turning up the volume. whatever album that was already queued starts playing as you start clearing the area around the cash register.

as you card through the cds on the display rack, mentally making note of what needs to be switched out, nodding your head to the beat of the music, the bell jingles softly and footsteps pattern inside.

you don't look up and instead go to grab some receipt paper and pen, "that was quick, you said fifteen minutes."

you continue scratching out mixtape names onto the paper and humming along to the music. before you freeze, when you hear what sounds like a chuckle, a distinctly male chuckle.

"i haven't said anything yet."

the blonde speaks and you don't have time to think before you're brandishing your pen in front of you defensively like its a small plastic sword.

denki yelps, dramatic, and hanta looks like he's about burst out laughing, but when he looks at you, like looks at you, at the crinkle in your eyes and the bounce of your hair, he swallows his laughter with a cough.

"d'you greet all your customers like this, or are we just special?"

his voice is smooth, and you lower the pen, but not your gaze, trying not feel to too embarrassed, and shoot back, "well i don't know, do you always creep up on people like that?"

hanta's face twitches into a smile, as you roll your eyes, check the time. you'll finish clearing up, your coworker will arrive, and she can tend to the weird hot guys nosing around the shop, as payment for making you come in.

except it seems denki has other plans, and has recovered from his initial shock, as he's sauntered right up to the cash desk and its fiddling about with the display items. hanta scoffs silently at his act and turns to card his fingers through the vinyls stacked neatly on the main table.

the blonde clears his throat, once, twice, "aren't you-" and then he squints his amber eyes in fake recognition, "don't we have a class together?"

you look up from where you'd been reordering some cd cases to take in his features. the gentle slope of delicate nose, his bright eyes, the poorly dyed streak in his hair, the half smirk half smile painting his pretty pink lips.

"hmmm, no, i don't think so."

"no, no, i swear, aren't you in our uh, english lit class, right dude."

hanta snorts and your eyes lock across the shop. his narrow in thought, then he taps his chin like he's remembering something.

"y'know what, she does look kinda familiar." identical cheeky smirks dressing both of their faces, "maybe we do have a class together."

your laugh may be short, sarcastic, but it's light and airy, a soft exhale. "did you guys come in here to buy something, or just to waste my time?"

"and no, we don't have any classes together," your gaze floats from denki, and the way his hair softly falls about his face, "'think i woulda noticed you," to hanta's eyes, warm and brown watching carefully, like something is so heavily amusing to him. "both of you."

neither of them make to move from where their feet are planted on the carpeted floor. and you smirk when you hear the jingle of the door bells for the second time.

hands flying into action, you grab the pen again and scribble another note and slap it onto the counter. your sleeve brushes against denki's, and before he can even feel the static shock of the friction, you're grabbing your phone and your bag, and making your way to the front of the store, and waving your coworker goodbye.

the store echoes with the jingle for the third time.

and resting on the counter, next to denki's arm is the paper you left.

with your number on it.

...end of playback

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next song: “93 till infinity”

[bippot]

Sick Little Baby

Story Summary -> Poor Eddie didn't show up to school because he has a bit of a cough and Wayne needs his rest, so his best friend and her puppy are willing to come to his aid.

Tags -> Domestic Fluff, Sick Character, Cutesy, Friends to Lovers, Caretaking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

Skipping school was practically Eddie's signature move - his go-to, if you will. He’d done it so often that the members of Hellfire Club barely batted an eyelid when he mysteriously vanished during lunch. Perhaps he was off sealing some shady deal, or maybe he was just blissfully snuggled in his bed back at his trailer, or, let’s be real, maybe he simply didn’t feel like showing up. But there was one day they could always count on him to be there - Thursdays, the sacred day of their campaign. It was a non-negotiable rule: no Dungeon Master meant no game at all as that was just downright impossible. 

Dustin, ever the charming little shit, decided it was high time to check in on their favourite troublemaker. "I’ll call," he proclaimed, but as the idea marinated, he quickly reconsidered. “Actually, you do it,” he whined and thrust a slip of paper with Eddie's number into Y/N's hands like it was a ticking bomb.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Oh, what’s the matter, Henderson? Are you scared Wayne will answer?”

“Yes. He’s terrifying, and he knows you.” Dustin exclaimed, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Terrifying? Come on, Wayne is not scary.” She chuckled, thoroughly entertained by the dramatic antics of the younger boy.

“He is too,” he shot back as if that would somehow bolster his argument.

Dustin huffed, his arms crossed, throwing a challenge her way with his pout. If she continued her teasing, he had the perfect ammunition to retaliate - after all, he had witnessed that embarrassing moment when he caught her doodling Eddie's name in her notebook while Mike took what felt like an eternity to figure out his next move during one of their sessions. Dustin had leverage, and he was not shy about wielding it when the moment called for it.

With a teasing grin, Y/N sidestepped him and snatched up the phone, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Henderson, you are a complete pussy.”

"Yeah, yeah. Just call the damn number."

Y/N took a deep breath and dialled the number, her fingers dancing over the keys like they were playing a lively tune. "Munson residence," came a gruff voice, thick with sleep. It had to be Wayne. Had they disturbed his slumber? Poor guy probably worked the night shift and was running on fumes. The thought made her stomach twist with a pang of guilt.

"Hey, Wayne. It's Y/N," she chirped, trying to keep the mood light.

"Oh hey, youngster." Wayne's voice brightened, and she could practically picture the warm smile that surely graced his face. Honestly, she had no idea why Dustin was so scared of him. The man radiated a laid-back charm that could put anyone at ease, a stark contrast to Eddie's frosty family atmosphere. Sure, Wayne was a bit rough around the edges, but it only added to his character - a man forged by countless night shifts and the pressures of life. He had always treated her with kindness. 

She sheepishly twirled the phone cord around her finger, feeling a hint of embarrassment. "Did I wake you? I'm so sorry - "

Wayne's chuckle interrupted her, “I was already awake, kiddo. Eddie’s been coughing all morning long.”

In the background, the unmistakable sounds of Eddie's smoker's cough echoed through the receiver, the harsh notes of it painting a vivid picture of the scene - Eddie huddled under a mountain of blankets, the world outside a distant memory. "Yeah, that idiot boy has come down with a cold or some shit." She could almost hear the eye roll in Wayne's voice as he continued, "He ain't sick enough to quit smoking, though."

Despite the concern that washed over her, Y/N couldn’t help but tease, "Yeah, Ed smokes like a chimney." She tried to ignore Dustin, who was prodding her ribs insistently, a mischievous glint in his eye as he urged her to spill the tea. "Do you need anything? I can always swing by the pharmacy on my way home and grab some stuff."

A hearty laugh erupted from Wayne. "Be my alibi when I strangle him? He’s been keeping me from my beauty sleep," he quipped, a playful bitterness colouring his words, which made Y/N chuckle softly.

"I could always look after him if you want to catch some Z's before your shift tonight. I don't mind, really." The prospect of taking care of Eddie sparked a glimmer of excitement in her. With Hellfire cancelled for the evening, she had to find something to fill her time, and homework? No, thank you. "My parents are on holiday, and my house is eerily quiet. A coughing idiot could liven the place up a bit."

Wayne paused; the line filled with the distant sounds of Eddie's coughs and the rustling of bedsheets, and then after a moment, he finally replied, "I knew you were my favourite of Eddie’s friends for a reason." A smirk came upon his face as he added, "Just don’t kill him."

A grin broke across her face, lighting it up like the summer sun. “I’ll do my best. I’ll swing by and pick him up after school.” 

“Okay. Thanks a tonne, kid. I owe you big time.” He replied, his voice bubbling with gratitude. “Talk to ya later, alright?”

“Later, Wayne.” 

Once the call ended, she turned her attention to her friend, and what a sight he was. Dustin wore a smirk so smug it could rival the Cheshire Cat, that knowing glimmer in his eye making her roll her own in playful defeat. “Shut up,” she sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind her words; they both erupted into laughter.

“Oh, Eddie. Let me take care of you, my sick little baby,” he teased, his impression of Y/N so awful it was almost a performance art. She playfully thumped his arm and shook her head, a blend of exasperation and delight making her cheeks bloom a rosy pink.

“Shut it,” she chided, but the warmth in her voice said otherwise.

In a comically exaggerated fashion, Dustin turned his back to her, wrapping his arms around himself as he began to mimic smooching sounds, his voice soaring higher. “Mwah, mwah. One day, I’m going to be Mrs. Munson, just you wait. Eddie. Yes, I will marry you. I will bear your fuzzy-headed offspring. Mwah. I just love making out with you so much -” 

He was on a roll, completely unaware of her absence until he spun around to find she had already scampered off. The phone line had captured his ridiculous declarations, leaving whoever had walked by to possibly think he was just a boy doing something incredibly peculiar. One girl shot him a look, silent but clear, her expression tinged with a certain judgement.

With Hellfire postponed, Y/N dashed off for Eddie's place the moment the bell rang - well, she made a quick stop at the drugstore first, but Eddie was on her mind - and when she arrived, the older Munson looked every bit as worn out as she anticipated. What was left of his hair was in a wild disarray, sticking up like he had just wrestled a tornado, and dark circles hung beneath his bloodshot eyes like heavy shadows. He sported rumpled clothes that had seen better days, clearly a sign he hadn’t showered yet. And as soon as Wayne spotted her car pulling up, he playfully nudged Eddie out the door with a grin, “There she is, your knight in shining... dungarees.”

Eddie looked just as bad, if not worse. He was bundled in a thick hoodie and sweatpants, with a blanket haphazardly tied around his shoulders like a makeshift cape. Yet, even this cosy ensemble couldn’t stop him from shivering. In a valiant but ultimately futile effort, he had tied his hair into a messy bun that was mostly falling apart, and his nose was a bright shade of red, his expression screaming, ‘Yeah, not my best moment.’

Rolling down her window, she couldn’t help but tease, “Wow, you look like hell.”

“Thanks,” he muttered sarcastically as he climbed into her car, a small smile teasing the corners of his lips as he closed the door. “How would you like it if I said you looked like shit?”

“I said you looked like hell, not shit,” she shot back, her tone light.

“Oh, so I don’t look like shit?” he questioned, a playful glint in his eye.

“Nope. You do.” 

Wayne waved a grateful goodbye and retreated back inside the trailer, likely seeking the sweet embrace of sleep he desperately needed.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at Eddie, who was still cocooned in his blanket, looking every bit the part of a cosy burrito.

He shrugged, leaning forward with a playful tilt, elbows perched on his knees, as he gazed out the window like a weary traveller searching for a glimpse of adventure. “Like crap, actually,” he admitted, his voice still heavy with sleep, before turning back to her with an exaggerated pout that could’ve melted glaciers. 

Oh, that pout wasn’t exactly doing him any favours. It made her giggle - a little snicker that was probably a bad idea considering the fierce glare he shot in her direction - but honestly, it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should have. It was downright adorable, especially when they finally reached her house, and Eddie shuffled toward her front porch like a toddler, clutching his blanket as if it were a trusty sidekick against the Arctic chill. In that moment, his grumpiness was more endearing than serious, and she couldn’t help but smile.

As soon as she flung open the door, a whirlwind of fur came barreling down the stairs, a puppy racing toward them in a blur of excitement. She crouched down, letting the little furball sniff her hand before scooping him up into her arms. “I missed you too, Chewie,” she declared with a laugh as the mini Briard showered her cheek with enthusiastic licks. Y/N chuckled, scratching behind his floppy ears, and cradled him close as they ventured into her cosy haven.

Eddie, however, made a dramatic beeline for the couch, flopping down with a theatrical sigh, wrapping his blanket tightly around himself like a cocoon. He buried his face into the throw pillow, surrendering to silence, except for the occasional cough that escaped him. “You okay?” she asked, gently placing Chewie on the couch beside him. Eddie merely nodded, pulling his blanket even tighter, like a protective shield. “You hungry? Thirsty? Got a headache?” 

“Yep, yes...and yes.” He rubbed at his temples, glancing her way with those big brown puppy-dog eyes that made her heart do cartwheels. Even without the actual words spilling from his lips, she could feel his silent plea of ‘Please?’

Without a second thought, she sprang into action to gather what he needed. “Go cuddle up to Eds. He needs it, bud,” she urged Chewie, who seemed to understand her perfectly, and the dog was instantly bounding over to Eddie as if he were a little guardian of comfort. 

A few moments later, Y/N returned, triumphantly carrying painkillers and a water bottle, only to find Eddie deep in conversation with the puppy about absolutely nothing in particular.

Eddie eyed them with faux suspicion. “Cyanide?”

“Belladonna,” she quipped, grinning.

With an exaggerated groan, he extended his hands to accept the items from her and downed them like a champion, returning the empty bottle with a satisfied huff. She held up her hand triumphantly—two out of the three checks complete. But one crucial task remained. 

“Food, please,” he whined, pouting just like he had in the car. 

She dashed off to the kitchen as she went to warm up some soup. It might not have been a culinary masterpiece fit for a five-star restaurant, but it was quick and simple—a cosy hug in a bowl. The aromatic waft that filled the air was enough to elicit an adorably goofy grin from Eddie when she brought it to him, as if she had just served him the finest feast in the universe. In that blissful moment, all the worries of the world faded away, leaving just the two of them basking in the comforting warmth of home.

Once the bowl was safely in his grasp, she settled in beside him, propping her feet up on the coffee table with a satisfied sigh. At first, he gave her a strange look, as if she had just sprouted a second head, but once she asked, "What? Do you want me to feed you too?" 

With a cheeky grin, she snatched the spoon from his hand and teased, "Here comes the aeroplane for the little baby boy," her voice taking on an exaggerated tone that could make anyone chuckle. Now, she never would have expected him to actually open his mouth and let her feed him, but there it was. The joyful face he made while she did it made her realise, "You love being coddled, don't you?" 

His small nod confirmed it, though he looked about as sheepish as a child caught with its hands in the cookie jar. He glanced at her with a mix of curiosity and mischief, and she merely shrugged, continuing to spoon-feed him. The silence that enveloped them was blissfully comfortable, broken only by the occasional slurp or a light-hearted cough that made them chuckle together.

As she placed the spoon back in the now-empty bowl, she suddenly felt a gentle tug at the side of her shirt. Looking down, she spotted Chewie, who had snuck in and was now cosily sprawled out beside them, resting his chin on Eddie's knee. A warm smile crept across her face as she lovingly scratched behind his ears, eliciting a happy wag of his tail.

"Thank you," Eddie eventually said, joining in on the ear-scratching. She nodded absentmindedly in acknowledgement, setting the bowl down on the coffee table before stretching out on the couch next to him. Just as she was about to close her eyes, he broke the serenity with his heartfelt words. "For taking care of me. And Wayne, I guess."

"It's nothing. You're my best friend, Eddie, and you know I'd do anything for you," she replied, her voice low and sincere, yet buoyant with warmth. There was something about hearing those words that made Eddie feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She didn’t say it often, but when she did, it rang with more meaning than a thousand other affirmations ever could.

To her, Eddie was family. A fierce loyalty and protective love wrapped around her heart for him. He was a wild mix of annoyance, stubbornness, and a bit of childlike wonder, but that was what made him so endearing. She loved him dearly, and caring for him felt as natural as breathing.

Speaking of her loveable crew, it was time for Chewie's dinner. "I know you're comfy, but do you want your food? Dinner time?" She called to the eager pup, her voice slightly higher, infused with excitement. Watching as his tail wagged in a frenzy, ready for his meal, she couldn’t help but giggle. "Let's go then. Lead the way."

Chewie bounded off to the kitchen with uncontainable energy, his tiny legs a blur. He was such a little guy, but his enthusiasm was boundless. He darted across the kitchen floor, barking joyously as he made a beeline for his food bowl, practically vibrating with impatience as he waited for her to prepare his meal. Her heart swelled with affection as she realised that her dog and her best friend shared so many similarities.

"Hey, hey buddy, slow down," she teased lightly, watching as Chewie practically inhaled his dinner. "Jesus fucking Christ. Breathe a little, babe." 

Returning to the sofa, Y/N felt Eddie lean against her shoulder the moment she settled in, his contented sigh enveloping her in a warm cocoon of familiarity and affection. Time seemed to pause as they lingered in that embrace, Eddie snuggling closer, melting into the comfort of her presence as if she were a soft, reassuring blanket that shielded him from the chaos of the world. Y/N's fingers instinctively found their way to his wild mane of hair, a playful smile dancing on her lips as she gently tugged at the scraggly elastic band he had used as a makeshift hair tie. With tender care, she began to untangle the messy strands, laughter bubbling between them like a sweet melody. 

It was a simple moment, but it felt as if the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them wrapped in their own little universe. She could hear his quiet intake of breath as he closed his eyes, surrendering to the soothing sensation of her fingers weaving through his hair, combing out the tangles and transforming his chaotic locks into something almost presentable. The gentle rhythm of her touch was hypnotic, and he found himself wishing it would last forever. 

Soon, his hair was tangle-free, and with a playful grin, she decided to plait it for him, her movements fluid and graceful. Chewie returned and contentedly settled himself on Y/N's lap as she worked. With each passing moment, the bond between them deepened. She finished the braid and took one of her hairbands from her wrist, twirling the hair into a bun and securing it with a tie, her fingers brushing against his skin in a way that sent delightful shivers down his spine.

"There we go. You’re so pretty," she cooed in his direction, her voice dripping with affection. The satisfied hum that escaped his lips was music to her ears, and the smile that lit up his face made her heart flutter. Now that his hair was styled, she suggested, "How about we watch a video?" 

Y/N already had a movie in mind—one she knew would perfectly align with Eddie's quirky tastes. Repo Man, a beautifully weird film about cars and extraterrestrials, was just the ticket, especially since her dad had rented it right before her parents went on holiday and it had to be returned soon.

As she sprawled out on the couch, lying back against the cushions, Chewie decided to awkwardly slot himself in the gap between her shoulder and the back cushion, falling asleep almost instantly. However, Y/N was taken aback when Eddie crawled on top of her, resting his head against her chest, a blissful expression plastered on his face. "Your boobs are comfy," he whispered playfully, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

She rolled her eyes, a laugh escaping her as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him closely, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. He sighed contentedly, resting his cheek against her upper chest, watching the film in peace. Minutes passed, and he couldn't help but revel in the feeling of being with her - how safe, how cherished, and how utterly happy he felt. 

Slowly, he lifted his head and turned towards her with a questioning gaze, his heart racing in anticipation. Y/N smiled warmly, raising an eyebrow and waiting for whatever stupid comment he might share. Then he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry if you get sick too now."

Her hand came up, brushing away a stray strand of hair from his eye, and she murmured softly, "It's okay, big guy. If I get sick, you'll have to take care of me." His heart swelled at her words, and a soft chuckle slipped past his lips. "I promise I'll be half as whiny as you." 

The moment felt charged, and he found himself unable to hold back. "That's okay. You could be twice as whiny, and I would still love you."

The blush that crept onto Y/N's cheeks illuminated the space between them, and when she pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, murmuring, "I love you too," he knew he hadn't imagined the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

At first, he had mistaken that feeling for the side effects of being under the weather, but no, this was different; this was pure bliss. Pure joy. This was love, unfurling gently like petals in spring.

Settling back down, he gave her collarbone a light peck, lost in the comfort of her warmth. Soon, he drifted off into a serene slumber, completely oblivious to the world around him. He didn't notice the way the corners of her lips curled upwards as she glanced down at him, her heart swelling with affection at the sight of his peaceful expression, knowing that these moments were precious.

Chewie was the first to wake, his tiny paws padding across the soft fabric of the couch as he stood and wandered over Eddie's back. Despite the fact that the puppy barely weighed anything, Eddie stirred at the gentle pressure, groaning as he opened his eyes to find Chewie standing over him with an expectant look. Eddie tried to stay nestled against Y/N, but he knew he had to shift so she could get out from under him. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he shifted awkwardly, failing to see how entertained she was as she watched him struggle to lift himself out of grogginess.

With a gentle kiss to his temple, a silent apology lingering in the air, Y/N slid out of the cosy groove they’d created on the couch. She scooped up her feisty little pup just before he could unleash a series of enthusiastic yaps that would shatter the peace. Chewie was set down, and off he dashed, zooming around the room in wild pursuit of his favourite chew toy, a little bundle of energy that could brighten anyone’s day.

Y/N glanced back at Eddie, and she couldn’t help but melt. There he was, adorably tousled with bleary eyes struggling to stay open, looking like he’d just rolled out of a dream. The sleepy blush dusting his cheeks added to his charm as he yawned and stretched, the blanket slipping off his shoulders like a forgotten shawl. 

His shirt had hiked up a bit, revealing a tantalising sliver of bare stomach, and for just a moment, she found herself completely mesmerised. Eddie caught her admiration and arched a brow playfully, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “What’s up?” he asked, his tone light and playful. 

Y/N shook herself from her daze, cheeks warming as she tried to divert her gaze. “Oh, nothing. Just, um... nothing,” she stammered, the words tumbling out in a fluster.

“You don’t sound very convincing,” he quipped, his fingers lacing around her hand, sending sparks of warmth racing up her arm.

Despite her best efforts to fight it, a blush crept onto Y/N's cheeks, and she quickly realised she was battling a losing game. Maybe it was time to surrender and let her cheeks flush naturally. "You look really cute right now," she admitted shyly, her heart fluttering as the heat radiated from her face like the first rays of morning sunshine.

Eddie's grin widened, revealing his adorable dimples, his eyes sparkling with mischief and delight that felt like the sweetest kind of magic. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” he remarked casually, his gaze appreciatively tracing over her as she bent down to toss Chewie’s toy across the room. The sight of her, all playful and carefree, sent warmth blossoming in his chest, chasing away the remnants of sleep that still clung to him like a stubborn shadow. Even though he felt a bit under the weather, watching her was like a dose of sunshine that brightened his spirit.

“So,” Y/N began softly, her voice tender like a soft lullaby after launching the toy into the next room, giving them a moment of peace, “How are you feeling now? Do you want anything?”

Chewie strutted back, triumphantly dropping his toy at Eddie's feet, his tail wagging like a tiny flag of victory, all too proud of his fetch prowess.

“Well...” Eddie mused, scratching the back of his neck in that adorably awkward way that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. “My head is still pounding a bit, and my throat feels like sandpaper, but hey, I’m not dizzy anymore.” 

Moments later, she returned with a tall glass of cold water, sunlight glistening on the droplets as if it were a little sparkling treasure. She felt her breath catch at the grateful smile that spread across his face - infectious and warm - and it lit up his features like the brightest star in the night sky. 

“How did the Hellfire boys take it?”

“Like champs,” she replied, brushing a stray hair from his cheek and tucking it gently behind his ear, her fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Mike was a bit grumpy, but when is that boy ever in a good mood? Gareth, Jeff, and Nate were their usual gracious selves. Lucas had basketball practice anyway.”

“And Henderson?” Eddie enquired, a smirk spreading across his face, the corner of his mouth lifting mischievously.

“Dustin was too busy having a blast making fun of us. Well, mostly me, but you were the reason.”

“Me?” Eddie feigned disbelief, laughter bubbling up in his chest, his voice rich and melodic. “I wasn’t even there.”

“Nope, but it was still your fault,” she teased, giving his arm a light smack, her expression animated as if to say that he was the entire reason for her playful antics. “If you weren’t so... you, I wouldn’t be the target of all this.”

Earlier, they had exchanged those sweet, vulnerable ‘I love you’s’. They are words that could be perceived as platonic in some lights, but the way they felt in this moment was undeniably more intimate, like a secret meant just for them. This wasn’t platonic. He knew that now.

“You like me,” Eddie stated matter-of-factly, his big brown eyes locking onto hers, full of sincerity and playful challenge, as if he was just waiting for her confirmation.

For a heartbeat, she simply stared, her heart racing like a wild drum. Then, leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her hand cradling his face tenderly, warmth flooding between them in a wave that swept all thoughts away. It was just a fleeting, sweet kiss, yet it conveyed everything they needed to say - an unspoken promise of affection and connection.

“I’m definitely going to catch your cold now,” she teased, pulling back with a playful pout, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Swapping saliva? Yeah, you're skipping school tomorrow,” he joked, his voice muffled as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck, a warm sensation enveloping them both.

A shiver of delight ran through her at the tickling sensation, a giggle escaping her lips as he playfully nipped at her skin. “Shut up,” she laughed, attempting to push him away, but he just chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. 

Together they snuggled into the couch, enveloped in a blissful cocoon of warmth and comfort that seemed to stretch on forever, like a moment frozen in time. "Can we just stay here and never move?" he murmured, his voice soft and dreamy.

"Yeah, for as long as you want," she replied, knowing in her heart that what she said wasn't exactly true. Chewie would need to go up the garden soon, but the sentiment was there, wrapping around them like a warm blanket.

Eddie squeezed her slightly, enjoying the closeness, as they lay there basking in each other's presence. Eventually, he felt himself begin to nod off once more, and it didn't take much persuading before he surrendered to sleep, cuddled tightly against Y/N, her sweet scent enveloping him in an ethereal warmth that allowed him to drift off quickly.

"Achoo!" He woke up with a start, bursting into laughter at the sound of her sneeze. She glared at him playfully, and it only made him laugh even more. "I hate you," she muttered, burying his face back in her chest, wrapping her arms around him protectively.

"Nah, you love me," he countered, his words muffled by her shirt but dripping with playful confidence.

Rolling her eyes, she replied teasingly, "Whatever helps you sleep at night." His response was still muffled, but she could catch something along the lines of 'You know you love it' with a dopey grin plastered on his face. In that moment, there was no denying it. She couldn't even try, because deep down, every teasing word felt like a soft confession—one that was only meant for them to share in this cosy little world they had built together.

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[amorchai]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄.

this is a repost from my old blog. original post was 934 notes.

pairing(s): steve harrington x female!reader

words: 1529

warnings/tags: female!reader, pining colleagues, pet names.

steve was counting the notes from the cash register in family video when he first heard your voice, a small ‘hi’ from the other side of the counter. and while it wasn’t directed towards him, his head snapped to the side to catch a glimpse of you, and my god.

he watched as you smiled at robin who tears her glance away from her doodles against the notepad on the table and towards you, “hi there, can i help you with anything?” robin asked kindly and steve knew she was probably just as flustered as he was at the moment.

“i—uh, yes. i’m actually meant to start working here today…” you trail off nervously causing robin to grin, “oh you’re y/n? keith said you’d stop by!” robin replies, quickly tearing her glance from you and to look at steve behind her as they share a knowing look.

his hands have frozen in counting the money, it could have been ten bucks or a hundred, he was far from caring at this moment. therefore, he stuffs the notes back in the register and wipes his clammy palms against the material of his jeans before fixing his hair, quickly, in case robin noticed him and most likely outwardly teased him in front of you.

“let me show you around! my names robin, by the way,” robin was enthusiastic, turning around to walk around the counter as she begins to converse but steve jumps forward, hand stopping robin as he smiles towards you, “i can show her around, you’re front desk robin, remember?”.

robin’s eyebrows furrow with a glare following, “then you can just jump on—?” before she can continue, steve is interjecting, “—i insist, robin,” he replies with a help-me-out-here look.

robin nods with an eye roll, grudgingly moving back to her seat by the desk and uses her pen to point towards steve, “the dingus will see you now.” you look over at his dorky smile, his folded arms falling as he quickly moves out from the counter and towards you, outstretching his hand to shake yours, “steve, i’m steve harrington,” he points towards his name badge, and you giggle, “i’m y/n.”

“pretty name for a pretty girl, are you new in town?” he asks, leaning his elbow on the counter to the side as he speaks to you, robin’s eyes following as she watches steve’s lame attempts at flirting. however, from your expressions and giggling, it seems to be working.

“yes i am, moved a couple of weeks back, my cousins live here and needed a roommate,” steve nods along intently, “no college or anything?” he asks, “not yet, i took a year out after graduating school so i’ll probably apply to places near here when the time comes.” your smile quirks when he continues to nod, finding him increasingly cute and charmingly flirty.

“what about you?” you ask, causing his mouth to agape slightly in thought of what to say, “i mean— yeah, that’s basically what i’m doing; a good, swift break before going to college,” he leans further against his elbow and you can’t help but notice the blush arise in his cheeks when robin mutters under her breath and against the palm of her hand, “that’s a pretty long break, harrington.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “there’s always time.” you nod to his statement in agreement but before you can respond, robin interjects once more leaning up to push steve's elbow from the counter and nearly sends him falling, “enough chit-chatting, don’t want keith to find out you’ve been flirting with y/n instead of teaching her the ways, do you?”.

“robin!” steve bickers back, turning away from you as his eyes widen to his best friend, utterly ashamed, “well, it’s true, you’re practically—”, “stop talking.” he sighs, trying to compose himself as he turns back towards you, “anyways, let me show you around before you start, y/n.” he goes to guide to towards the sections to one side, sending a warning glare to robin when he hears her mock his words in a low-pitched voice, yet pretending he couldn’t hear her when he turns to you.

showing you across the sections, he tries his best to pretend he’s knowledgeable and an expert at his job but given the fact he states that ‘sylvester stallone was great in breakfast club’, you thought it was safe to believe that he wasn’t. he shows you over the sections, flirty one-liners and wrong comments about the movies cause you to uncontrollably giggle beside him throughout the tour.

steve was trying, and it was unbelievably cute to watch. his big doe-y brown eyes scanning your features as a few of his light brown locks poke against his forehead, he was handsome — and also had massive arms you couldn’t help stare at whenever he pointed towards something.

“right through here,” steve murmurs while lifting the partition by the counter before allowing you to step through, he leans close to robin while you do so, “she’s been laughing at everything i say, i think there’s a chance here.”

“…a chance that she’s laughing at you? yeah, massive chance, little stevie” robin quips, turning to him with a teasing glare as he pulls back before stepping through the open partition himself. “twelve o’clock buckley, go assist the customer, i’m busy here,” steve speaks, loud enough for you to hear as he nods towards the front door where a new customer walks in.

she grunts, pointing at him warningly as she moves from her seat to leave the area, “you owe me one, dingus.” he just turns back to you with an aloof smile, “i notice not a lot of customer’s, huh?” you ask him, glancing at the nearly empty store, employees outweighing the number of customers.

“nah small town, but it’s all good, means you don’t need to do much,” steve folds his arms, hip nudging against the counter as he sends you a lopsided smile which was hard not to melt over. “does it not get boring?” you ask, “not if you’re on shift with me, sweetheart.”

you shake your head with a quick smile before he continues, “speaking of, let me just grab your schedule for this week,” he’s curious as he collects it from the back wall, steve and robin’s missing as they checked over theirs merely hours ago.

standing beside him, you ignored the feeling of his warm skin of his arm against yours as you tried to look over the weeks schedule. steve held it with one hand while his pointer finger grazed over the times curiously, a crease between his eyebrow while he analysed.

“that’s perfect! you’re on with me all week, you’ll be an expert by this saturday,” he enthuses, quickly turning over to grab his schedule laid messily across the pile of paper on the desk before holding his beside for comparison.

you tried to ignore the tug in your heart at how happy steve sounded to be on shift with you, only an hour or so of meeting each other and he was by far the most interesting person you’ve met in this town. maybe anywhere. “can’t wait,” you replied as coolly as possible.

steve passes you your own schedule while you move back to your previous spot, “do you live nearby?” steve asks you suddenly. “yeah, just ten minutes over, near the old mall?” steve nods, it was a small town of course he knew where you meant. “if you give me your address, i mean if you don’t mind, i could drive you to work? i already drive that idiot back there, and she’s probably near the same shifts as us,” he nods to robin over by the action section.

“if you’re okay with that, you don’t have to though i can—“, “i offered, sweetheart. course i don’t mind,” steve grins when you nod once again with a quiet ‘thank you’ trying to hide your giggle at his dorky nature. steve licking his lips slightly before returning to his charming grin, “no worries, pretty.”

you look down to the couple of body moles peaking from the collar of his shirt as you avert his eye contact in an attempt at hiding your smile, not noticing the way steve’s eyes gleamed at you. he was used to hitting on people upon first introductions but nothing like this, he’s never felt a flurry of dizziness quite like he did from his first glance towards you.

and it was addicting, inviting even.

then he knew, it was official, he was a goner. he realised this as he stared at your face, soft cheeks contracting as you smile lowly and he can tell you’re forcing it down as you look behind you and at the equipment behind the counter, “teach me more of the family video ways, steve.”

steve hoped he seemed cool and collected to you, because anytime you spoke to him, or smiled… or even looked at him, his mind went foggy and tried to hold back from completely breaking down. “buckle-up, buttercup,” steve replies while gesturing towards the chunky computer system.

yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

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[itsgivingmami]

Her Altar- Rhea Ripley

Warning: religious based homophobia

Practice what you practice, love who you love.

   Growing up had been nothing special. School during the week, riding your bike with friends on Saturdays and stuffing yourself into clothes you dreaded for church on Sunday.

   You had never really liked church but at a young age it hadn't occurred to you exactly what it was. You didn't like to do it the same way you dreaded math tests and asparagus but it wasn’t exactly an optional occurrence. As a young child you'd found the grain in the back of the pew you'd sat behind more interesting than whatever the pastor was groaning on about.

    For your seventh birthday your parents had gifted you a simple gold cross necklace and had hung it around you like a totem before you could tell them you weren't particularly fond of it. Or church.

   As you got older you learned very quickly that your opinion of faith was null and despite the fact that you were real, tangible and god (presumably) wasn't didn't matter. The laws of the bible did.  By the time you were thirteen you knew you were attracted to women, the constant reminder that being gay was a sin had only served as education on the subject. the constant reminder to stay quiet about how you felt kept you safe and you learned to repress school crushes on other girls. Growing up in a prejudice environment masked in faith had took its toll,

Then along came Rhea,

    Hiding your feelings for her made you feel more guilty than betraying the faith you were supposed to have. Every time you two hung out you felt like you were lying to her, you felt dishonest when you two linked arms walking through the mall and when she fell asleep next to you in the same bed during sleep overs. You started to avoid her under the guise of protecting her, believing that she was better off without you pining after her.

    "Why are you avoiding me?" She had caught you at your locker, trapping you between her body and cold metal.

     "I'm not.." you laugh off avoiding her gaze and you try and find a way under her arm.

    "We have talked everyday for the last god knows how long and suddenly radio silence," you shake your head as if she's wrong, but you know she's not. "I watched you make eye contact with me and run down the hall the other direction and did you think I wouldn't notice that you haven't been to a single one of my games in weeks?" You didn't, you figured she wouldn't notice your absence on the sideline and that she'd have no issues finding someone else to talk with. "What gives? I miss you,"

    You keep your eyes on her shoes, a familiar pair of dirty black chucks, your doodles covering the toes and you remember the day you two had spent ditching class on the bleachers with her legs thrown over your lap. Your parents had berated you for skipping but you hardly heard it, deeming the time you got to spend with Rhea worth it.

    "I'm sorry," you spoke quietly before biting the inside of your cheek, trying to will you ears to stop tearing,

   "Don't apologise just tell me what I did so I don't do it again and-" the hand she's gesturing with falls to her side, "let me have my friend back,"

    It's too much, the combination of her blaming and the way she calls you her friend makes you feel overwhelmed by guilt. You feel exasperated by the inner conflict and you want her to understand that you can't give her back her friend, because you don't feel at all friendly about her but telling her means really telling her the truth and your not ready to fully loose her either.

   "It's not you," you rasp as you quickly duck under her arm and run from her not bothering to close your locker door. It's selfish, but you can't have her too close and you can't loose her entirely. So without explaining yourself you flee and continue to keep her at arm's length. Rhea stands frozen staring at the spot you were just in, sighs and closes her eyes before gently shutting your locker for you.

                                             ~

     For the first time in years you go to confession after safely making it out the building sure Rhea wasn't going to come after you. Pulling open the door you don't remember walking here at all.

    You see the shadow of the priest through the lattice as you sit on the bench. It takes you a moment before you realise your supposed to greet him.

    "Sorry uh-," you shake your head and bring your hand up to cross your heart, your necklace feels like it's burning your skin as you speak. "Bless me father, for I have sinned?" It comes out as more of a question and you swallow thickly already regretting this decision. "It clearly has been a long time since my last confession," You hear a hum from the other side,

    "You are here now," its sounds empty, like he's said it too many times today and you're sure he has. "Why?"

    "I think I love someone," you tell him, it's the first time you admit it and hearing it out loud makes your chest thump.

    "How do you know you love him?" He asks you and you wince, him. Everything inside you is screaming at you to run, but you stay planted. Faith and whatnot right?

    "My heart races and I would do anything for," you hesitate, "this person, I can't imagine hurting the person I love, so much so I would hurt myself before I ever could," tears start to fall as you talk about it for the first time, "I can't live without her but I would if she asked me too,"

                                              ~

       When you walk through the door your parents are waiting, scowling and deep down you know; they know. Weren’t confessionals supposed to be private? A bag lands in front of your feet with a thud.

     "There will be no sinners living under our roof," your mother spits, you look to your dad you refuses to meet your eyes. You throw the strap over your shoulder and swallow thickly before straightening your posture. A shaky hand reaches up to your necklace and rip it off tossing it at their feet before leaving.

                                          ~

      Rhea has a cd playing quietly so she can listen to the thunder as she watches the rain our outside, she still can't figure out what she did to upset you and it's driving her nuts. Deciding to skip soccer practice and head home after you'd run from her again. She runs a hand through her hair at the memory and blinks back tears. It was bad enough she had cowered out of telling you about her feelings so many times, now you wouldn't even talk to her at all.

    Maybe you had caught on to her clingy-ness, she hated to think that she didn't at least get the chance to confess that she loved you in a way that might not freak you out. Her dim computer screen on her desk remains on her aim, countless unanswered messages on your part.

   "Rhea!!" Her mom's voice snaps her out of her thoughts as she quickly gets up and heads downstairs. She freezes on the last step when she spots you, soaked through, shaking, red eyed and her mother trying to wrap you in a blanket. She spots your dripping bags near the front door and she feels her body flash with heat as a rage bubbles up.

     "What happened?" Rhea questions as she comes towards you, making quick work of pulling her hoodie over her head using it wipe water from your face. You simply let out a sob in response as you jerk forward, she steps closer and pulls you against her.

   "They kicked me out," you sputter between breaths, "I didn't know where to go,"

     "Here," she answers and her mom hands her another blanket which she lays gently over your shaking body, "always here," She holds you while you cry into her collar and makes eye contact with her mom who simply nods before grabbing your bag to put whatever she can in the dryer.

    "We gotta getcha warm baby," she whispers to you softly, the endearment comes out naturally and you let out a soft cry at how kind she's being despite the fact that you've been avoiding her for weeks. "Let's go to my room yeah?"

   She holds your waist as she guides you upstairs, the front of your head is starting to hurt from crying and your face feels fuzzy. You enter the familiar space, greeted by pictures and posters you helped hang. Rhea sits you gently on her unmade bed and flips on the desk lamp, a soft yellow light illuminates the room.

     "You need dry clothes," she speaks as she's opening drawers in her dresser and rifling through unfolded piles. "Sweatpants or shorts? Tee or sweater," she rambles half to you half to herself. As you watch her grab things for you and mumble to herself you make a decision.

    "Rhea," you watch her turn to you "I have something I need to tell you,"

                                                ~

    "Whatcha doing baby?" Your wife's voice makes your memory fade as the window comes back into view, the patter of rain drops against it and the occasional clap of thunder. Strong inked arms come to wrap around your middle and you lean back into her.

     "Thinking," you tease, reaching up to scratch her jaw with your nails and she growls into your palm at your answer. "You know me well enough to know,"

      "Mmmmm," she hums as her chin rests on your shoulder. She does know exactly what storms remind you of, which is why she'd abandoned her workout in the garage to find you. Usually you'd be in the basement trying to drown out the sound but she had found you in the master bedroom in-front of the glass balcony doors. Your silhouette illuminated by snaps of lighting. “I love you,"

“I love you more “ you tilt your head back to look at her, you tell her you love her all the time but you gaze into her eyes trying to tell her how much you mean it each time. She places gentle kisses on your neck as her hands slide down to your front, you feel her warm palms press against your hips, pushing you further against her body.

“I love you most, I win,” she growls into your nape and you let out a soft breath at the feeling, a pleasant warmth swells in your chest. Her strong hands grip at your hip bones and it sends lighting straight to your core. You turn to face her and the loving gaze she’s holding you with. “Hi pretty girl,” she rasps to you.

“Hi,” you respond and smile before her lips are on yours and her tongues in your mouth. You let out a satisfied hum as her hand comes up to thread through your hair, holding you tightly against her. You’re both overwhelmed by emotions as your kiss gets messier, thinking about the days when you hadn’t been out and married to the love of your life. You gently separate from her mouth, “I need you,” you tell her, your lips brushing against hers as you beg for her. You feel the tell tale sign of her gripping at your waist band and you lift onto your toes and she pulls you to wrap around her body.

“God you’re beautiful,” Rhea admires you, your foreheads pressed together as your breaths mingle. You brush her bangs away from her face and she stares at you above her, she watches you like you’re the stars.

“Take me to bed,” you ask her and although you cannot be closer you need more, you need to be the place that’s always been the safest; enclosed by Rheas body.

“Did somebody forget who’s in charge?” She teases and she nibbles your ear lobe, you whine and squirm in protest which gets you a light slap to your ass but you feel Rhea start to move towards the bed anyway. Your back hits the soft mattress and your wife crawls over to join you.

“I let that last one go,” she tells you as her fingers running under the hem of your shirt and up the side of your ribs, her gaze flicks back out the window. She wants you to know that you’re okay, she understands it’s a hard night for you, “but act like a brat again and I’ll treat ya like one,” she gently slaps the bottom of your thigh a couple times before you bend it and her strong grip holds you.

“Rhea,” you gasp as her teeth hit your collarbone followed by the soothing of her tongue. She chuckles lowly and pulls your tank top up over your stomach, you sit up quickly helping her rip it off.

“There’s my good girl,” Rhea praises your obedience and you melt a little more, your body pliant as she pressed you back down to the mattress. Her mouth is warm as she sucks marks onto your bare chest before taking a hardened bud, you throw your head backwards as you let out a moan.

The memories of your past fade a little more each time she teaches you true worship and only with her do you start to believe the priest who outed you might’ve actually been divine intervention. In the morning when you wake up next to her you’re certain angels exist, they simply must with one laying in front of you and in the night before you fall asleep you find your faith kneeling at her altar. You aren’t afraid that your love would cast you to hell, not when the goddess above you brings you pure bliss that you swear it must be what heaven really is.

[tiiraameesu]

The One That Got Away Pt. 1

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Synopsisજ⁀➴ Gojo is a charismatic college student, known for his carefree approach to relationships, never letting things get too serious. You are his longtime best friend and have quietly harbored feelings for him but never acted on them, knowing Gojo’s aversion to commitment. But when Gojo shares an unexpected connection with another girl, the dynamics between them start to shift. As the lines blur between friendship and something more, you are left grappling with your emotions—unsure of whether you'll be able to stay by Gojo’s side, or if it’s time to move on.

tagsજ⁀➴ college au, hockey player!gojo, band member!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual friends to lovers (maybe), gojo is dumb af

NOTESજ⁀➴ hi im new here so pls be kind! do feel free to dm me if any of my content offends you! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

wcજ⁀➴ 7.0k

The ice rink was alive with excitement as the final seconds of the game ticked away. The roar of the crowd echoed throughout the stadium, a sea of faces clad in school colors, jumping to their feet in anticipation. On the rink, the Arctic Aces were poised for a victory, the puck at the feet of their captain, Gojo Satoru.

With a deft flick of his stick, Gojo sent the puck careening toward the goal. The opposing goalie was caught off guard, a split second too slow, and the sound of the puck hitting the back of the net sent the crowd into an explosion of cheers.

“GOAL!” the announcer bellowed, but the noise from the stands already drowned out everything else. Gojo’s teammates rushed towards him, lifting him into the air as the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game. The victory was theirs.

You sat in a quieter corner, slightly detached from the chaos of the bleachers, the game still playing out in the background. Your notebook was open in front of you, its pages filled with half-finished lyrics, the melody lingering in your mind, yet elusive. At the bottom of the page was a small doodle—just a simple, almost careless sketch of Satoru’s jersey number. You hadn’t meant to draw it, not really, but there it was, a subtle tribute to the guy whose presence always seemed to fill a room without trying.

With a soft sigh, you closed the notebook, the sound nearly lost amidst the cheers echoing around you. You slipped it into your bag and rose to your feet, your gaze briefly lingering on the jubilant team celebrating in the center of the rink.

You clapped along with the rest of the crowd, your smile wide and genuine as the team gathered at the center of the rink, already celebrating. It was hard not to feel a surge of pride yourself, even if you weren't directly involved. You’d been there for the highs and lows, through every game, every practice. And now, here he was, surrounded by his teammates, basking in the glow of victory.

From across the rink, you spotted him.

Gojo’s eyes were immediately drawn to you in the crowd, his expression lighting up with that familiar, cocky grin. The chaos around him seemed to blur, and for a brief moment, it was just the two of you. He nodded in your direction, his gaze lingering on you as the celebration continued around him. His eyes said it all—pride, admiration, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

Your heart gave a soft jolt, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips in response. You clapped harder, cheering for him as your eyes met his, silently acknowledging the bond that had existed between you for as long as you could remember.

The celebration around you continued, the sound of clapping and cheers echoing in your ears as you remained at the edge of the stands, watching Gojo and his teammates bask in their hard-earned victory. The pride in his eyes when he’d glanced over at you made your heart skip a beat, but you quickly pushed the fluttering feeling aside. This was his moment, and you were happy for him—just like always.

As the team began to make their way off the rink, you slowly made your way toward the back hallway where they would head to change. You’d been in this routine for years: waiting outside the locker room for Gojo to finish, stealing a quiet moment together before he went off to celebrate with his teammates.

You turned the corner and found yourself face to face with a small group of girls—other members of the team’s girlfriends, their laughter and chatter filling the hallway as they stood near the entrance to the locker room. They were all dressed up, their excitement just as evident as the boys’ on the rink. The sight of them made your heart thump a little faster, the realization creeping up on you that you, too, were here waiting for Gojo.

It wasn’t that you didn’t belong here. You’d been doing this for years—being there for him after every game, every victory, even after every loss. It was just that... well, in this moment, it hit you all at once: the way you were standing there, waiting like everyone else, but your connection to Gojo wasn’t like theirs. You weren’t his girlfriend, not in the way they were to their boyfriends. You were his best friend.

You flushed at the thought, suddenly acutely aware of the blush creeping up your neck. Was it silly to feel this way? To feel just a little out of place, even though you knew—deep down—that your relationship with Gojo was different. Special, in its own way. But still, it didn’t stop that feeling of awkwardness from bubbling up. You knew you had no claim over him in the way they did. You were just... well, his best friend.

Still, the thought made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain, and as you stood there, trying to seem casual, your fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the strap of your bag.

The door to the locker room swung open, and soon, Satoru emerged, his white jersey drenched in sweat, a cocky grin plastered across his face. He jogged toward you, his energy undiminished by the physical toll of the game.

The moment your eyes landed on him, all your thoughts seemed to vanish. Everything—the other girls, the lingering self-doubt—faded away. There was only Gojo, glowing with the thrill of victory, and the familiar rush that came with being near him. It was like slipping into something comfortable, and just like that, your nervousness was gone, replaced by the ease of a banter that had become second nature.

"Well, well, well," he teased, stopping in front of you, out of breath but practically glowing with energy. "Were you actually watching this time, or were you scribbling in that nerd journal of yours again?"

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" you replied, a teasing glint in your eye. "Maybe I was writing an exposé about how predictable your moves are on the ice."

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if offended. "Predictable? You wound me!" He leaned in a bit closer, eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "Did you see that shot? I’m the best, and you know it."

You smirked, reaching into your bag and pulling out a towel, handing it to him. "You're okay, I guess," you said, shrugging like you were just barely impressed.

Satoru took the towel with a grin, pretending to be hurt by your indifference. "Oh, come on, I expected more from my number one fan!" He draped the towel over his shoulders, exaggerating his disappointment. "Here I am, out there scoring game-winning goals, and all you’ve got is ‘you’re okay’?"

You smiled, amused by his theatrics. "Well, you know, someone has to keep your ego in check."

Gojo grinned, clearly not ready to let the playful banter end. He tilted his head slightly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. He wiped his face with the towel, still looking at you with that teasing smirk.

"You’re no fun," he remarked, a hint of disappointment in his tone as he playfully shook his head. Then, his expression shifted, his voice turning a bit lighter but with an eager undertone. "But hey, speaking of fun... you’re coming to the party, right?"

You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference as you folded your arms. "I don’t know… I’ve got a lot of important nerd journaling to catch up on."

Gojo’s expression immediately shifted, pouting dramatically as if you had just crushed his dreams. "What? No way! You can’t just leave me hanging after I win the semi-finals for us!" His hand came up to his chest in mock offense. "I’ve got a whole celebration planned, and it’s not the same without my favorite person there."

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth tugged upwards despite your best efforts to resist. "You’re unbelievable."

Gojo stepped closer, his tone turning slightly more pleading, though still playful. "Come on, please? I’ll even save you a spot by the snacks, I promise." He added with a wink, "You know I’m much more fun when I’m not around all these crazy fans. I need someone who can keep me grounded."

You glanced at him, considering it for a moment. It wasn’t like you had any other plans, and honestly, it had been a while since you’d just hung out with him. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to join the chaos for once.

"Alright, fine," you relented with a sigh, though you couldn’t help but smile at the victory in his eyes. "I’ll come. But if you make me regret this, I’m leaving early."

Gojo’s grin returned in full force, and he playfully pumped his fist in the air. "Yes! Victory! You’re the best, you know that? Don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior," he said, though it was clear from the sparkle in his eyes that he was definitely not going to keep his promises.

The party was in full swing when you arrived. Gojo had given you and a few of his teammates a lift, and as soon as you stepped inside, the vibrant atmosphere hit you. The music was loud, the lights dimmed just enough to set the perfect party mood, and people were already dancing, laughing, and enjoying the night.

Gojo, as always, was in the center of it all, surrounded by teammates and friends, a bright grin on his face. He turned to you with that familiar gleam in his eye, his excitement contagious.

As soon as you stepped inside, Gojo grinned at you, his excitement clearly building. "Told you this would be worth it," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "See? Not so bad, right?"

You shook your head, laughing lightly. "Alright, alright. You were right. But I’m still not convinced this is my scene."

Gojo raised an eyebrow, leaning closer with that characteristic smirk. "You’ll warm up to it. Just give it time."

Before you could respond, a couple of teammates called out to him from across the room, pulling his attention away. With a quick, almost apologetic smile, he waved at you before being swept into their conversation, his laugh carrying over the noise. You watched him for a moment, his energy like a magnet for those around him, before turning toward the snack table.

The music pulsed around you as you picked through the snack table, finally grabbing a drink. You popped it open with a satisfying crack and took a sip, letting the coolness settle in your hand as you surveyed the party. It was a lot—too much for you to dive into right away, but you were managing. The hum of conversation, the laughter, the occasional burst of songs—it all blended into the background.

"You look like you're in your element," a voice said from beside you, breaking your moment of observation.

You turned to find Geto Suguru, another member of the Arctic Aces, leaning casually against the snack table, a grin playing on his lips. He wasn’t as flashy as Gojo, but there was something laid-back and steady about him that made his presence comforting. His dark hair framed his face as he looked at you, his usual calm demeanor offering a contrast to the louder energy around you.

"Yeah, I’m just trying to keep up," you said with a smirk, raising your drink in a mock toast.

Geto chuckled, glancing around the room before his eyes landed back on you. "I get it," he said, that easy grin of his showing. "It’s a lot to take in if you’re not used to it. But hey, sometimes it’s fun just watching the chaos unfold without jumping in headfirst."

You raised an eyebrow, sipping your drink. "Yeah, I’m more of an observer. Not sure I get the hype about all this, but I guess it’s not the worst way to spend a night."

"Fair enough," Geto said with a shrug. "It’s not for everyone. But, you know, there’s something about a party like this—it brings people together. Everyone’s just here to have fun and let loose, no pressure." He looked back toward the group near the center of the room, grinning as a few of his friends got into a debate about something, probably over a game. "But hey, not everything has to be high-energy. You can always hang back and enjoy the quieter moments too."

You nodded, spotting a few people hanging out on the couches, chatting quietly. "True. A little peace in the middle of all this madness wouldn't hurt."

Geto’s grin widened. "Exactly. No need to dive into the madness if you don’t want to."

You both stood there for a moment, casually observing the party, and for the first time that evening, you felt a little more at ease.

"So," Geto broke the silence, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. "There’s a beer pong game going on over there. You in? It’s chill, nothing too serious."

You looked over at the table where some of his friends were already setting up. A couple of cups lined up, a few people tossing ping pong balls with varying degrees of success.

"Beer pong?" you asked, a playful glint in your eye. "I’m not sure I’m ready to show off my amazing skills yet."

Geto smirked, clearly enjoying the teasing. "Oh, I’m sure you’ll blow everyone away. Or, you know, at least keep us entertained." He nudged you with his elbow. "Come on, it’ll be fun. Plus, I promise no one's going to make you do anything too crazy."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, the idea sounding better than the noise of the dance floor. "Alright, alright. But if I end up losing, you’re taking the blame."

Geto laughed. "Deal. Let’s go—just try not to throw off my perfect winning streak, yeah?"

With that, he led the way over to the beer pong table, the two of you joining the group already gathered around. You felt a little more relaxed now, ready to see how this party game would unfold.

The beer pong game was in full swing, and you found yourself leaning into the rhythm of it, despite your initial hesitation. Geto was on your team, and with his laid-back demeanor, he made the whole thing feel a lot less intense than you’d expected. On the other side of the table was Shoko, laughing softly as she lined up her shot, her usual cool demeanor only slightly cracked by the casual fun of the game. Her relaxed approach made her a surprisingly good opponent, and she had a knack for landing her shots effortlessly.

"Alright, you’re up," Geto said, giving you a playful nudge as he grabbed another cup from the table and set it back in place. "Don’t mess this up, we’ve got a streak to keep."

You chuckled, grabbing the ping pong ball and eyeing the cups across the table. "No pressure, right?" you teased, though you could feel a slight tension in your fingers as you focused. With a flick of your wrist, the ball bounced off the edge of the table and landed neatly into a cup.

"Nice!" Geto grinned, his usual calm facade replaced by a proud smirk. "Guess you did have it in you."

"Yeah, yeah," you said with a smile, taking a step back as Shoko raised an eyebrow at you, clearly impressed.

The game continued, with a few more players hopping in and out of the action, each one bringing their own unique flair to the table. As the game wore on, the noise and chaos of the party became more distant, like a buzz in the background of your focus. The cups kept getting fewer, and despite the light-hearted teasing and competition, you were starting to enjoy yourself.

Finally, after a round where you successfully sunk another ball, you stepped back, leaning against the edge of the table and catching your breath. The game was getting intense, and you felt the adrenaline picking up, but you decided to take a small break. Your eyes wandered, searching the crowd for a moment of calm.

And then you spotted him.

Gojo.

He was dancing with a cheerleader, a girl you’d seen around campus but never paid much attention to. But this time, the way he moved with her was different—charged. He was still his usual animated self, effortlessly spinning and swaying, but there was something undeniably magnetic about the way they fit together. They laughed, their bodies gliding and shifting in sync, a fluid rhythm that felt more intimate than anything you’d seen before. His hands brushed against her lower back with a confidence that made your chest tighten. There was a certain spark between them, the kind that you couldn’t ignore—like they were feeding off each other’s energy in a way Gojo had never done with anyone else.

The playful, carefree smile he wore was still there, but there was a deeper connection in the way he held her, a closeness that felt charged and electric. It wasn’t the usual flirtation, the casual touch-and-go kind of connection Gojo had with the girls who passed in and out of his life. No, this was different.

You quickly tore your gaze away, heart pounding in your chest. It wasn’t jealousy, you told yourself—not exactly—but something about the scene unsettled you. Maybe it was the raw, undeniable chemistry between them, or maybe it was the fact that Gojo, the one who never seemed interested in anything serious, was making you feel like an outsider in his own world. You tried to shake it off, refocusing on the game, but the lingering feeling wouldn’t go away.

"Hey, you good?" Geto’s voice broke into your thoughts, but you hadn’t noticed him watching you. His tone was casual, no hint of suspicion, just his usual calmness.

"Yeah, just catching my breath," you replied with a small smile, grabbing another drink from the table as if nothing was amiss. "This game’s getting competitive."

Geto nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah, that's what makes it fun." He motioned to the cups in front of him. "Your shot next."

You pushed the moment with Gojo out of your mind, focusing back on the game as if nothing had distracted you at all.

The game continued with the usual back-and-forth banter and some impressive shots, but you couldn’t shake the growing feeling that your attention was divided. The lively energy of the game was fun, but your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment you had seen Gojo dancing with the cheerleader. It wasn’t anything that should’ve bothered you, but for some reason, it did.

Shoko tossed the ball at the cup with a confident flick of her wrist, sending it into the last cup with a victorious cheer. "Yes!" she exclaimed, raising her hands in triumph. "We win!"

You blinked, realizing you were so distracted by your own thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed the last round coming to an end. You let out a small laugh, trying to shake off the distraction. "Guess I lost focus there."

Geto leaned back with a playful grin. "Yeah, I noticed. You okay? You seemed a bit out of it."

You gave him a small shrug, not wanting to dwell on the weird feeling that had taken over you. "Yeah, just... a little distracted."

Shoko was already high-fiving the others, and a few people started gathering around to congratulate her. You felt the buzz of the crowd all around you, but it was starting to feel a bit too much, and you needed a break.

"Alright, I'm out," you said, pushing yourself up from the table. "Gonna grab some fresh air."

Geto gave you a lazy salute, looking half-amused. "Go on, take five. We’ll keep your spot warm."

You nodded, flashing a smile as you made your way through the crowd. The noise, the trashy music, the movement—it all felt too much, and you couldn’t quite place why your thoughts had been so scrambled. Maybe it was the way Gojo had been so carefree with the cheerleader, or maybe it was just the overwhelming energy of the party in general.

Once you made it outside, you stepped into the cooler night air, the sharp contrast immediately soothing your frazzled nerves. You leaned against the railing of the patio, taking a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill your lungs. It was quiet here, a much-needed break from the chaotic energy inside. The noise of the party was muffled, distant, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to just take it all in.

But as the fresh air settled your mind, the thoughts you’d been trying to ignore bubbled back up, more persistent now.

Gojo and the cheerleader—what had that been?

The way they danced so close, so natural with each other. It was like they had their own rhythm, their own unspoken connection. You could’ve brushed it off, but it was hard to ignore the tightness in your chest when you remembered how easily Gojo had slipped into it. He was always the life of the party, always the one drawing attention, always so effortless with everything, even with women.

A part of you—one you liked to keep tucked away—had always been amazed by how effortless Gojo made everything look. He just fit into the world, like he belonged. And yet, standing there now, in the cool night air, with that image of him twirling with the cheerleader flashing through your mind, you couldn't deny the pang of something… sharper. The way he looked at her, how easily he connected with her—it was all so natural for him.

And then, you remembered the words he'd said to you, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather: that he wasn’t really into relationships, that he wasn’t interested in finding a girlfriend. He didn’t want to be tied down, didn’t want to complicate things with attachments. He just wanted to have fun. At the time, you’d respected that, admired his free spirit, and told yourself that it didn’t bother you. He had made his stance clear. No strings. No complications.

But as you stood there, feeling the chill of the night air against your skin, you found yourself wondering why it felt different now. Was it because you had thought, somewhere deep down, that maybe things were just… simpler with him? That you didn’t need to define what you were to still have moments that felt real? You weren’t sure. All you knew was the sudden, inexplicable weight in your chest. It wasn’t supposed to matter. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, trying to focus. Why was this bothering you so much?

It wasn’t like you expected anything from Gojo. Hell, you didn’t even think he’d look at you the way he looked at others. He had made that perfectly clear. And you had always told yourself that was fine. You were fine with it.

But then, seeing him with someone else, laughing with her, so at ease—it stirred something inside you. Something you hadn’t really known how to name, and certainly hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated with yourself. It shouldn’t matter. You barely knew him outside of these parties. Hell, you weren't even sure you were looking for anything at all. So why did it feel like something was missing when you thought about him with someone else? Why did it hurt?

You sighed deeply, trying to shake off the unease that clung to you like a fog. You hadn’t signed up for this. You hadn’t signed up for the confusing mess that your thoughts were becoming, nor for the overwhelming weight of emotions you hadn’t asked for.

As you stood there, trying to ground yourself, a loud cheer from inside cut through the quiet, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. The music and voices from the party had reached a fever pitch, the energy almost tangible, and for a moment, you were distracted by the chaotic buzz from within. The door felt like an escape, a safe boundary between you and everything that was swirling inside your chest.

With a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the railing and walked back toward the door. You hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before stepping back inside. The noise hit you again—laughter, the clinking of glasses, a sense of collective joy—and you couldn’t help but feel out of place, as though your personal storm didn’t quite fit in with the party’s sunny atmosphere.

You made your way through the crowd, your eyes scanning the sea of faces, searching for something familiar, something to anchor you. That's when you spotted Geto, leaning casually against the wall, a half-empty cup in his hand. His sharp eyes met yours, and in that instant, you felt like he already knew something was off, even before you had a chance to say anything.

"Everything okay?" His voice was quieter than usual, soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern. The question hit you harder than you expected, and the tightness in your chest only worsened.

You forced a smile, but it was thin—barely a curve of the lips—and you knew Geto could see right through it. You shook your head, not ready to expose everything that was eating at you. "Yeah, just needed some air."

Geto didn't press, but his gaze lingered, measuring you with a quiet intensity. He wasn’t the type to pry, but he could read you like an open book. After a beat, his eyes shifted around the room, the calm in his demeanor a stark contrast to the growing chaos inside. Then, he looked back at you, his voice quieter still. "There's a lot going on in there... If you want to keep your peace, maybe it’s best you stay out here for a bit."

His tone wasn’t teasing. It was low, almost protective, like he was warning you to shield yourself from the storm brewing in the room. You frowned, a knot tightening in your stomach. Geto didn’t speak like this unless something was really going down.

"Why’s that?" you asked, your voice betraying the unease creeping up your spine.

He shrugged slightly, his faint smirk only half-formed, like he knew something you didn’t. But his eyes were darker now, unreadable. "Just a little... drama brewing."

You tilted your head, still not getting it. But before you could ask again, a sudden eruption of noise crashed over you—loud cheers, boisterous shouts of encouragement. It felt like the entire room was vibrating with an unseen energy, something in the air urging everyone to push harder, get louder.

And, against every instinct telling you to stay out of it, your feet moved. Drawn toward the door, the buzz inside almost impossible to ignore. You stepped closer to the entrance, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening, but before you could make sense of it, you saw them.

In the far corner, Gojo was kissing the cheerleader.

The world seemed to slow. The kiss wasn’t the playful, casual brush of lips you’d seen a thousand times before. This—this was different. It was slow, deep, intimate, a connection that felt effortless, yet so charged, as if every moment they shared was weighted with something unspoken. The way Gojo held her, the soft curve of her body against his—it was like they fit together in a way you’d never seen before.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart slammed against your ribs, too loud, too painful. This was no fleeting moment—it was real, it was them, and it made something inside you shatter in a way you couldn’t explain.

The crowd around them erupted in cheers, but all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears, the beat of your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Your body went numb, your vision narrowing as you tried to force yourself to look away, but you couldn’t. Every detail of that kiss, the way Gojo’s hand lingered on the small of her back, how she leaned into him as if there was no one else in the room, etched itself into your mind. It was too much. Too raw. Too real.

You felt cold, exposed, like the weight of the room had just pressed in on you, suffocating. The realization hit like a gut punch—Gojo, the guy who never did this, never gave anyone more than a fleeting glance or a brief touch, was suddenly offering someone else everything you had wanted to give him. The part of you that had always been there for him, the part that had waited and stayed in the shadows, felt torn wide open, vulnerable in a way that left you trembling.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. And in that moment, you knew—it was too late.

You stood frozen in place, heart pounding, the world around you blurring as you tried to force yourself to breathe. It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. You blinked, feeling like you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t control.

That's when you felt Geto’s presence again, the way his gaze settled on you with an intensity that cut through the haze of your emotions. You could hear the concern in his voice, though it barely registered through the ringing in your ears.

“Are you okay?”

The question hit like a wave. You struggled to keep your composure, but the crack in your smile was all too obvious. You shook your head, the sharp edges of your thoughts scraping against your skull.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Geto didn’t buy it. He stared at you, his gaze sharpening. He could see through every wall you tried to build, and for a moment, you felt like he was going to call you out. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave you a small, understanding nod, though his eyes were still full of that quiet concern.

“Alright,” he said, his voice softer now. “But if you need anything, I’m here.”

You nodded quickly, too quickly, like you were desperate to move on from this moment. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to feel any more. So, you did the only thing that made sense—you grabbed a drink from the nearest table, your hands shaking as you wrapped your fingers around the cold glass. Without a second thought, you tilted the glass back and downed it in one shot, the burn of the alcohol stabbing through your throat.

It was harsh, but it was enough to take the edge off. Just enough to dull the sharp sting of everything crashing down on you.

You set the empty glass down, the room spinning a little as you steadied yourself. Your chest still ached, but at least it was bearable now. You didn’t know how much longer you could stay, how much more you could watch, how much more you could pretend that you weren’t falling apart.

“I’m gonna head home,” you muttered, already turning away.

Geto didn’t argue. He just gave you a small nod and a glance that said everything without saying a word. You could feel his eyes on you as you made your way out, but you didn’t turn back. You couldn’t. Not when you knew if you did, you’d break open in front of him.

You didn’t want to be seen like that. Not by anyone.

So you left.

The cool night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, and for the first time in hours, you could breathe. The city stretched out before you, the distant lights barely reaching up to where you stood. You knew you couldn’t just go home—not after everything that had happened tonight. Not when your mind felt like it was about to crack wide open.

Instead, you walked, each step purposeful, until you found yourself at the door of your studio. It was quiet here, isolated, the perfect place to think—or, at least, drown out everything with noise.

You shoved open the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of wood and old instruments hitting you like a wave. It was a strange kind of comfort. The walls were lined with guitars, and the sound of your fingers brushing against the strings felt like the only thing that could quiet the storm in your mind.

You didn’t bother to turn on the lights—just went straight for your guitar. The soft, familiar shape of the acoustic greeted you like an old friend, and you sat down on the edge of the old couch in the studio, fingers instinctively resting on the strings.

You strummed a few chords, the sound mellow and comforting in the silence of the room. It was familiar, something that had always calmed your mind. But tonight, it felt... hollow. The notes felt small, contained, like they couldn’t fully capture the mess swirling inside you. You tried to lose yourself in the rhythm, in the song you were playing, but your fingers faltered. The music wasn’t matching what you felt.

What was it that you were searching for? You didn’t know. It was the kind of feeling that started in your chest and spread through your body, but the acoustic guitar didn’t have the power to express it. It wasn’t the quiet melancholy you’d often poured into your songs. No, this was something else—something more urgent, more intense. Something that, as much as you hated to admit it, made you think of Gojo.

You closed your eyes, letting the last chord ring out, but the silence that followed felt too thick, too heavy.

It was his smile. His laugh. The way he seemed to move through the world like he had everything figured out, with no hesitation or doubt. It was the way he looked at her—the cheerleader—like there was nothing but the two of them, and how effortlessly they seemed to fit together. There was something so... easy about it. Something you couldn’t quite place, but it made your chest tighten.

You set the guitar down with a frustrated sigh and stood up, pacing around the room, the weight of everything pressing on you again. You thought about Gojo and the cheerleader. The way they moved together, so effortlessly, so sure of themselves. You thought about how he could be so light, so carefree, and how you were... not that. Not in the same way.

It was strange. You didn’t want what he had with her—what he could have with anyone, really—but there was something about it that made you wonder. Why was it so easy for him? And why was it so hard for you?

You grabbed the acoustic again, but this time, it felt even more distant. The softness, the quiet—none of it matched what you were feeling. You needed something more. But what was it?

power to express it. It wasn’t the quiet melancholy you’d often poured into your songs. No, this was something else—something more urgent, more intense.

You closed your eyes, letting the last chord ring out, but the silence that followed felt too thick, too heavy.

You set the guitar down with a frustrated sigh and stood up, pacing around the room, the weight of everything pressing on you again. You thought about Gojo and the cheerleader. The way they moved together, so effortlessly, so sure of themselves. You thought about how he could be so light, so carefree, and how you were... not that. Not in the same way.

It was strange. You didn’t want what he had with her—not in the sense that you wanted to be with someone else, but it made you wonder. Why was it so easy for him? The way he was with her, so relaxed, so certain. And why was it so hard for you to even acknowledge the way your heart twisted every time you thought about him, about the way he made you feel?

The cool night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, and for the first time in hours, you could breathe. The city stretched out before you, its distant lights flickering like they belonged to someone else. You knew you couldn’t just go home—not after everything that had happened tonight. Not when your mind felt like it was about to crack under the weight of all the thoughts crowding in.

Instead, you walked. Each step was mechanical, like you were trying to outrun something. Anything. And before you knew it, you found yourself standing at the door of your studio, its silence a sharp contrast to the chaos that had swirled inside the house. It was the kind of quiet you could lose yourself in—at least, that’s what you told yourself.

You shoved open the door and stepped inside. The familiar scent of wood and old instruments hit you like a wave, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. It was strange—this place always felt like home, like the one constant you could rely on, but tonight it felt more like a refuge from something you couldn’t outrun. Something that had started the moment you’d seen Gojo with her.

Your fingers brushed the neck of your guitar as you sat down on the worn couch in the corner. The shape of the instrument was familiar, comforting in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. You strummed a few chords, the sound soft and tentative, as if even the music knew you weren’t really here.

But the melody felt wrong. Hollow. Like it was a poor imitation of the storm inside you. The rhythm, the notes—they couldn’t capture what you were feeling, no matter how hard you tried to make them. Your fingers faltered, slipping on the strings as your mind wandered, unwillingly, back to the image of Gojo and the cheerleader. The way he’d kissed her, so easy, so effortless. Like there was nothing else in the world, like nothing had ever been more natural. It was all so... simple for him.

Your chest tightened, the air thick with something that wasn’t just frustration—it was something sharper, something you couldn’t define. Something that stung, deep and raw.

You closed your eyes and let the final chord ring out, but the silence that followed felt too heavy, like the space between the notes was just as suffocating as the weight in your chest. The truth that you were trying to ignore came crashing down in a way you couldn’t escape: It wasn’t just the kiss. It was the way he moved, the way he was with her—so light, so carefree. It was how he looked at her, the ease with which he seemed to fit into everything, into life.

And you... you couldn’t even breathe around him without wondering if you were doing everything wrong.

You set the guitar down with a sharp sigh, the sound too loud in the quiet of the studio. Standing up, you paced, unable to sit still as your thoughts collided with each other, sharper now, more frantic. What was it about him that made everything feel both so simple and impossible? The way he’d looked at her, the way they fit together—it felt so effortless, so right. You’d watched him move with her, and for a brief, ridiculous moment, you wondered if you could ever have that. But you weren’t like them. You weren’t that easy, that sure of yourself.

You grabbed the guitar again, but it felt even more distant this time. It was just another object, another tool, in a room full of things you used to make sense of the chaos. The soft notes, the gentle strumming—none of it matched the whirlwind inside you. You needed something stronger, something that could hold what you were feeling, but the music just wouldn’t come.

What was it you were really searching for? You still didn’t know. But you did know one thing: you weren’t ready to face it.

The guitar felt foreign now, the touch of it somehow wrong as you strummed another failed chord. The frustration built, and your fingers slipped off the strings again. Your thoughts turned back to Gojo—his laugh, his smile, the way he moved like he was untouchable. And, God, how easy it all seemed for him. Why was it so effortless for him to just... exist, and so impossible for you? Why did everything about him make you feel like you were drowning?

The last thing you wanted was for him to be in your head like this, but there he was. His face, his touch, that damn smile that seemed to slice through everything, leaving you exposed and uncertain. And what were you supposed to do with all of that?

You exhaled shakily, leaning back into the couch, the room spinning just slightly. It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t anger. It was... something else. Something far more unsettling. You tried to deny it, but it was there, festering beneath the surface—the way your heart twisted every time you thought about him.

You didn't want to want him. You didn’t even know how to want him. But there it was, the ache.

Maybe it was the feeling that you'd never quite measure up to whatever it was he had with her. Maybe it was the knowing that, no matter how hard you tried, you’d never feel the way he seemed to make it look—effortless, natural, right.

And all you could do was sit in the silence, that hollow ache growing louder, until the music was just noise, and nothing made sense anymore. PART TWO

[potol0ver]

Hello! I've really enjoyed your hcs and requests for Erik and I was wondering, could you write one for Erik with a partner who is an artist that views him as a muse? Drawing his masked face and doodling his hands and figure silently all the time even if they don't tell him they find him beautiful outright, it's obvious in their secret artwork

Yessss this is adorable i love this

Tags; GN reader, artist reader, Drabble (I still don’t know if I’m using that word right-)

Even before you and Erik got together, Erik knew about YOURE artistic skills. Always watching you from the shadows as you worked on your next masterpiece. No matter how “bad” or unfinished the project was, he adored it like it belonged in the museum. The older works that you forgot about he stole and put up in his home deep under the Opera house, he couldn’t help it, he needed to be surrounded by your brilliants.

After you two starting talking and interacting with each other he noticed how your works became a little more moody, or take more inspiration from the Opera house itself more. Erik entertained the idea that you’re doing that because it reminds you of him, but he snaps himself out of it thinking that he’s just showing you more of the Opera, of course you’re inspired. It’s not because of him.

Overtime the two of you became an inseparable pair, you can continue to work on your art in his home as well as he can work with you in there to, if anything it’s boosting both of your work ethics. Erik sitting at his piano and you sitting nearby with your sketch book in hand, how can it get any better than this? Perfectly domestic and calm as you two worked on your art. If only he knew, just like he’s writing songs about you, that you’re drawing him as your muse.

Sitting in your lounge chair off to the side of his piano room, you sat sketching him with a charcoal pencil. Slowly but surely capturing his appearance with small strokes and the occasional intentional smudge of the charcoal on the page for definition. You couldn’t help but have a small smile as you take a look at the page, you capture him perfectly in your eyes. His mask, his hair, even the disgruntled look of him as he focuses on his music, leaning over his piano.

Truth be told this isn’t the first time you’ve done this. You’ve say many times in this chair sketching him, let it be just his face, or maybe some anatomy practice where you focused on how he held his body. Like all artists hands were the bane of your existence, but you couldn’t help but try and tackle that subject to immortalize his, whether they’re in his leather gloves or bare, they were always intriguing.

Erik was always a muse to you, even before you ever saw him and only heard his voice. Those drawings of the opera house you did were made to try and capture him. They were always the places and moods that you felt like captured his unique aura and voice. The day you finally saw him even in the shadows you couldn’t help but try your best to get it on paper. Truth is you’re as infatuated with him as he is with you, but he’d never guess that.

Now that you’re spending most days with him, it’s hard to hide the fact you’re drawing him. As odd as it sounds you just didn’t want to be seen as a creep for it. Your sketch book quickly filling up with all the sketches you’ve done of him, and you still don’t feel confident enough to show him one. Maybe, in time when you create a masterpiece as him as your muse will you finally show him, but until then, he’ll continue to be your secret muse.

[wileys-russo]

can i request an alessia x reader where it’s after a game and reader is going round and taking photos with fans and stuff and one of them is a small child and has a really cute interaction with said child, alessia is watching from a distance with katie and katie tease lessi about looking so in love, or just something along those lines if that’s ok 🙂

lovesick II a.russo

“guys I’ll try my best to get to as many of you as possible but i really have to go soon! i’m so sorry i’m expected at the post match press conference and it starts in five minutes.” you apologised, wincing as the yelling for your name and attention only increased as you hurried from fan to fan, smiling quickly for selfies and scribbling your name as neatly as you could on jersey after jersey.

your girlfriend watched on from a distance, arms folded over her chest and a slight frown on her face as she noticed the growing distress on your own. you were always the first to head toward the fans and the last to leave, but with the popularity of the game growing you’d never ever be able to please everyone and alessia knew the harsh comments which always followed affected you more than you let on.

“well well well if it isn’t guard dog russo protectively watching over her little girlfriend!” she heard a voice tease in her ear as fingers poked at her sides and she swatted away the irishwoman who grinned. “leave me alone macca you know what she’s like.” alessia grumbled with a roll of her eyes.

“i do. remember i’ve actually known her longer than you have russo!” katie laughed flicking at the tall blondes ear who sent her a scowl, gaze quickly pinned right back at you. “she’s a big girl less she’ll be fine. much as she has her big bad golden retriever guard dog always one step behind her.” katie cooed mockingly pinching the younger girls cheeks who shoved her away again.

“i’m not a golden retriever!” alessia protested with a frown at the common nickname she’d earned herself within the team. “oh sorry maybe something with a bit more bark than bite mmm, a golden doodle or a poodle perhaps?” katie pondered with a grin, ducking as the blonde swung at her and she ooh’d.

“struck a nerve have i russo?” katie teased but alessia’s attention was elsewhere.

“I have to go now i’m so sorry! i’ll try to come back if i can!” you apologised as you started to back away from the continuing yells and screams for your attention, most of your team already off the pitch as you were already late for the press conference.

“y/n! y/n! please i wanna be just like you when i grow up!” your head swivelled and your resolve wavered seeing an adorable little brunette wearing your number and frantically waving her hands at you, squished against the fence by the adults surrounding her.

“we flew from belfast, you’re her favourite player of all time even above the irish girls.” her mum explained as she appeared beside her, and you heard one of the staff call your name a few feet away, tapping her wrist impatiently to signal you were already late.

“oh balls.” you grumbled under your breath, rushing back toward the barrier and quickly scooping the brunette up into your arms. “what’s your name sweets?” you asked as you plopped her down beside you, gently turning her around so both of your jerseys showed your number and her mum took a picture.

“aishling.” she beamed, tears welling up in her eyes as she practically tackled you into a hug, the unexpected knock taking you off your feet as her mum yelled at her and you assured it was fine, sitting back up and giving her a proper hug before settling her on your hip.”

“smile for your mum!” you pointed to the camera with a grin of your own, tickling her sides as she laughed and her mum took another photo. “thank you so so much, you’ve just made her entire year.” the woman thanked you as you gently placed aishling back down behind the barrier, ruffling her hair with a smile.

“i’m glad. but i am so incredibly late and i quite like having a job so i really have to go. thank you all for coming out!” you clapped the fans and tried to ignore the boo’s from those you’d missed, grabbed by the staff member who told you off as she dragged you away toward the press conference.

your girlfriend had watched the entire interaction with a face like melted butter, millions of scenarios of that one day being your own child you held on your hip, how good of a mum you’d be, waking up beside you as your kids would jump on top of the pair of you, their giggles filling the room as you’d both relentlessly tickle them for the wake up call.

“oh my god your face russo! you’re so in love with her it’s absolutely disgusting. god i can feel my lunch coming back up hold on!” katie begin to gag, doubling over with her hands on her knee’s as alessia was snapped out of her trance, shoving the older girl who held up a finger and continued to gag.

“and you’re supposed to be the adult between us?” alessia mumbled with a roll of her eyes but not without a small smile tugging at her lips as she made a beeline back inside, heading for the media room with katie trailing along after her.

it would appear she made it only a few seconds after you as she watched you trip your way up onto the stage in your haste, jonas hurrying to steady you and help you sit down as amused chuckles broke up among the journalists scattered around the room.

clearly embarrassed you mumbled an apology for your both abrupt and late entry as your face burnt bright red and jonas started calling for questions.

alessia caught your eye after a moment, sending you a reassuring smile and gesturing for you to breath as you inhaled deeply and nodded, the striker sending you a thumbs up and mouthing she was proud of you.

but she didn’t miss the smirk which crossed your face for a moment, your eyes moving past her as alessia glanced over her shoulder and saw katie mimicking her every move.

scowling alessia wasted no time shoving the irish defender back outside with her, not wanting to distract you any further as they headed for the change rooms and katie slung an arm over the younger girls broad shoulders.

“ah russo you’ve got it bad you know, you are lovesick my friend. absolutely down bad would do anything for her and marry her in a heartbeat lovesick.”

and alessia made no move to argue with her.

[chibieggplant]

Doodles ~ Part 3

Trafalgar Law soulmate au | Imagine a magical connection between you and your soulmate, where everything you write on your arm appears on your soulmate's arm, too.

Part 3/3 | Part One | Part Two

“I…” You could only manage one word at this point; any more words were too hard to get out as you stared at the spot on his arm where the bear doodle previously was. The thought of your soulmate existing was already absurd, and you had long given up on trying to believe. However, this…this was proof. The bear doodle, exact, no room for misinterpretation. You were so shocked you could barely even speak at all as you remained still. All you could do was stare forward as your eyes moved to meet his.

Law looked at you, and as soon as he spotted your shock, he instantly understood what you were feeling. After all, his reaction was the same. Law was practically dumbfounded as the realisation hit him. Yet he also felt like the most idiotic person in the entire world. He never wrote back. Not once. Now that his soulmate was right in front of him, he felt both delighted and upset at himself as he continued to stare at you. He was feeling all kinds of emotions all at once. Joy, shock, fear, and so much more that he couldn’t even think of a name for. He felt so happy, yet so stupid; so relieved yet so scared.

Law couldn’t take his eyes off you despite part of him wanting to run away. He could see you trying to process everything as it came flooding in after years of silence. He felt terrible, awful. At this moment, he felt like an idiot for not writing back to you. His feelings were just as chaotic as yours right now. He could barely believe this was real. He had spent an entire decade telling himself he had no time for his soulmate. That he would only bring you trouble; after all that time, it felt surreal to be standing before you, knowing that fate had bound you together.

Law tried to muster up something to say, but it seemed just as challenging for him to speak as it appeared for you. Yet he needed to say something. There was this entire decade’s worth of conversation he needed to make up for. He tried to move his arms, perhaps to hug or touch you in some way, as he felt the need to show you some physical affection after so long, but it was as if they were frozen in place. The next thing he noticed was a tear started to roll down your cheek. His heart froze in his chest at the sight of the tear running down your face. This was what made him break. He could deal with you looking shocked. He could deal with you staring at him blankly. But seeing your tear just sent a spear through him. His vision was becoming blurrier as tears slowly began to fall from his eyes, too. He was a mess, and he suddenly felt so lucky to meet his soulmate finally. He realised he had wasted an entire decade’s opportunity to talk to you. To spend time with you. As this realisation set in, he wanted nothing more than for you to forgive him.

“W-why didn’t you write back?” your voice was full of emotion, and it was hard for you to manage it enough to get the words out. But it had to be said. Your tears quickly turned into a steady stream flowing down your cheeks as you began to break down in your senses. The floodgates had opened, and all the hurt you had felt, all the sadness you had felt and all the pent-up feelings had just been released. Law couldn’t hold it back anymore. He let out a muffled cry as he rushed forward and hugged you as tightly as he could. Law kept his hold tight around you as he buried his head into your shoulder. Your words hurt him. They really hurt him. He didn't want to give you some lame excuse, but the harder he tried to come up with something, the more he realised that his reason was just plain stupid.

“I’m sorry...I’m so sorry…” he said it again and again, his voice slowly becoming even more muffled as he became even more emotional. His heart raced as he remembered all of his own emotions. He was scared. He was scared that you would hate him. Scared that you would never forgive him. Scared to hear your response to his apology. He was scared of…well, a lot of things. He wanted to speak, though; he wanted to explain his stupid behaviour.

Law still couldn’t get the words out, though, as a few more tears streamed down his face. All he could do right now was cling to you as he continued to mutter his apologies. He was scared that you were going to reject him. After a decade of no response, you must despise him. His mind was in a frenzy. It was filled with an ungodly amount of fears and regrets. He hated himself. He should have written back all that time ago. He should have talked to you. He shouldn’t have made you feel so alone. For someone that everyone regarded as intelligent, he felt so stupid. Stupid for not writing back. Stupid for ignoring you. He was foolish for thinking he didn’t have time. Everything just felt so silly and pointless. He was probably the worst soulmate in the entire world. He couldn’t even imagine how much you must hate him for his actions. What a horrible person he was. This is why he never wrote back. He didn't deserve you. He didn't deserve anyone.

Your words sounded broken through muffled sobs as you clung to him and buried your head in his shoulder. “I-i thought you didn’t exist, I-i thought I didn't have anyone…”

Law froze at your words as they hit him like another spear to the heart. The years of silence, the years of false hope. All that wasted time. He was fully aware that he had been thoughtless by disregarding your emotions. But hearing you say it just broke his heart even more. He squeezed you tightly as he tried to suppress his pain. “I’m so sorry…I-”

He was an idiot. He shouldn’t have let this go on so long. He shouldn’t have been so stupid. He should have just listened to his heart and written back. He didn’t want to admit it, but he loved your silly doodles. But he was afraid. He was scared of rejection and convinced that no one could love him. “Please forgive me…I…I…” Law could barely finish. He prayed to every possible god that you could forgive him for his stupidity. He continued to sob into your shoulder, squeezing you as tightly as he could as he repeated his apology. He hoped to god that there was still a chance at forgiveness. He prayed that you could forgive him. Because right now, he could barely stand for how much of an idiot he had been. All this time, he had thought you would be better off without him, so he never wrote back, but all he had done was sabotage himself. He had deprived himself of years' worth of conversations. Years worth of love.

“…I was so afraid you’d hate me, t-that I was…” Law choked out as the last words left his mouth. All the guilt all of the regret came crashing down over him. He felt weak. He felt so damn…stupid. This whole time, he had convinced himself that he was okay with being apart from you. That all of this didn’t matter to him. But at this moment, his whole world came crashing down. You were real. You were his soulmate. And he had made a fool out of himself by avoiding you all these years. He felt sick. He had lost an entire decade of potential happiness all because he was an idiotic, scared little brat. But now, you were real. You were real and in his arms.

“I thought…that I was too broken. I thought that there was no way that you could ever love someone like me. And I was so…” Law broke down again, finally saying the words he had been dying to say all this time. Words he had been denying for a very long time. “I just thought you would deserve someone so much…better…I’d bring you trouble” Law’s grip loosened up slightly, but his arms still wrapped tightly around you as he continued to bury his face into your shoulder. “I…I thought that I didn’t deserve you. I…I‘m not a good person. So, I thought I was doing both of us a favour by not…not writing back. I was going to protect you from myself” He could barely manage to get the words out as fresh tears streamed down his face. It might have seemed like a weak excuse, but it was the truth.

“I-I know I've been the world's biggest idiot, but…the longer I avoided it, the harder it was to write anything. I didn’t even know how I could face you after…after all of this time. I was scared of what you’d say. I thought you’d probably hate-“ His breath hitched. He hated that he had been so afraid. He regretted that he had not given you a chance. He was now aware that as a consequence of this, he might end up losing something he never got the opportunity even to experience.

“It’s okay…” you suddenly said as you held back any more tears, interrupting the torrent of words about to erupt from Law’s mouth. You paused momentarily and leaned back to meet his gaze as you spoke. “It’s okay…you’re here now.”

Law froze as you interrupted him, and those two simple words hit him like a brick to the head. He had been so scared and so worried but...it was okay? You didn’t hate him-no you forgave him. You had found it in you to forgive him even though he had kept away from you for years. Even though he was the one who refused to write you even a single word, you had forgiven him? It was unbelievable. You were still standing there, holding onto him as tightly as he was holding onto you. Law didn't understand. He held onto you with the same intensity, trying to take in the weight of your forgiveness. He was utterly flabbergasted, he shouldn’t have been this surprised. You were just that type of person, you just forgave, and you just accepted. You were a genuine, good person to the very core. It was too much for Law though. He was used to harsh words, not forgiveness. He was used to being hated by most people and not being accepted. He found it difficult to cope with the situation.

Law’s grip loosened slightly, and he began to sob harder. He felt weak, and this was the most weak he had felt in a long time. He was supposed to be strong, but now he was breaking down. He was supposed to be able to take on all of this stress, but he couldn’t. He had no control, and he despised it. “H-how can you?…”Law’s lips were trembling as he tried to get a proper grasp on himself. He couldn’t believe you had forgiven him. Law was supposed to be some irredeemable, evil bastard, yet here he was, having the kindest, most gentle person he had ever known forgive him. He felt his entire body go limp. Tears were pouring down his face at the sudden onslaught of forgiveness. It just all became too much for him. He had been expecting to be hated, hated for the past decade of silence. But it was forgiveness instead. He felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest as he suddenly tightened his grip on you as hard as he could. “W-why are you being so nice to me? I mean, I don't even deserve your kindness…”

“Shhh…” you whispered as your arms wrapped around him as tight as they could. You weren’t going to let him self-deprecate. He’d spent the last decade hating himself and living in regret. You were going to fix that right here, right now. You were going to make sure that he knew what he deserved. And you were going to start by not letting him say any more bad things about himself.

“H-how can you forgive me…after everything? It’s not fair to you…” Law struggled to hold back his emotions as he attempted to protest.

“Because I have spent years believing that I didn't have a soulmate, and now, you're finally here, and it all feels worth it” You gave him a gentle smile as you pulled away slightly and wiped away the last of your tears. You felt like this moment was surreal, and the thought of rejecting him had never even crossed your mind. He was your soulmate, after all.

Law pulled back slightly too, his gaze fixed on you. And when he saw your smile, he felt warmth wash over him. His heartbeat slowed, and he finally felt he could breathe properly again. So this was it. He had finally found what he had been missing all this time - a person whom he could honestly care for and who reciprocated that same level of care. It was more than just a soulmate; it was a connection that had been absent from his life until now. He never even imagined this feeling. It was truly something else. And yet…he spent a decade afraid of this. He spent over a decade avoiding this feeling. He spent so much time, a decade's worth of time, just avoiding something that he always wanted despite telling himself the very concept was absurd. It was unbelievable, and it was downright moronic. But now here he was, with his soulmate. He was so happy, but at the same time, just so full of regret. But he didn’t want to focus on the past anymore. He spent enough time being alone. All that mattered was now.

Law slowly loosened up as his grip on you also loosened. He let out a deep, long sigh. he felt tired, but in the best way possible. It had been so long since he had felt this calm, this…serenity. His heart rate was finally stabilising, and though his breathing was still heavy, he was finally recovering. He took a gentle hold of your hand. He looked into your eyes and smiled. Law was finally done with it; he was finally done with letting the past rule him. He was finally done with letting his insecurities control him, and he was finally done letting the fear of others influence his every action. With this realisation came an entirely genuine smile. He had never really given much thought to his expression, but now it was the most genuine smile he had ever worn. It wasn't fake or forced. It was his natural smile, and he was finally free to let that be. The wave of relief and catharsis he had felt washed over him. It was the best feeling in the entire world...

Law continued to stare into your eyes as he lightly squeezed her hand. He felt at peace. At peace with himself, and at peace with life. Life didn't seem so cruel anymore, and neither did he. He was ready for anything life threw at him now. He just needed to know that you would stick around with him through all of it. Law gently squeezed your hand one more time before he spoke. He was never usually the talkative or the emotional type, but this whole interaction had brought those qualities straight to the surface. Now, he didn't mind talking just a bit more. He wanted to. “y/n…I…I have to ask…”

You smiled and nodded your head reassuringly. There was nothing he could say that would be off-limits. Law could ask you anything he wanted to ask. You had to know his heart before you went any further, right?

He looked you in the eyes as he took a deep breath before continuing. “y/n, could…could you really learn to love me despite all of this? Despite all of the stupid, idiotic actions I've made?” Law was almost afraid of the answer you might give. Would you still care about him if you knew even half the horrible things he had done? And what about everything else about him? What about his past? His personality? His actions? Everything about him was a mess. But…you were his soulmate, weren't you? So, if anyone had the potential to love him for who he was, it would be you.

You already knew the answer to his question, but you took a moment to consider the most effective way to express it. Eventually, you just decided to answer with complete honesty. “…I’ve been waiting years to speak to you. Years to find out who you are…wondering what you look like, what kind of person you are, what your favourite foods are, if you prefer morning or night…” you softly chuckled. “And I would love nothing more than to get to know every little thing about you….” Gently, you whispered your final words, and a faint rosy hue appeared on your cheeks “to fall in love with you…”

Your answer made him smile, and his grip on your hand tightened just the slightest bit. Your words were reassuring, but at the same time, he expected nothing else coming from you. It was a comforting feeling, knowing that someone accepted him. Someone who would even go as far as spending time with him to get to know him. To even consider the possibility of loving him. His cheeks blushed as he felt the warmth wash over his face after hearing your words. “…I-I like onigiri…and I’m more of a night owl than a morning person.” Law softly chuckled; he felt silly, and his cheeks were now a light shade of red. This was all so foreign to him, this light...affection...he could almost get used to it. Law's lips slowly began to form a warm smile. He clasped your hand and softly ran his thumb over your skin. He wasn't sure if you could tell, but this was the happiest he had felt in years.

[vikkirosko]

🐰 Jax x fem!Reader headcanons Black and white angel 🗝

Jax and you got into the circus at about the same time, but you looked completely different. Unlike him, who looked like a cartoon rabbit, you were more human, though also cartoonish. You looked like characters from old black-and-white cartoons. You were black and white yourself, wearing an old-fashioned dress like the ones worn by the heroines of old movies, with a hairstyle in the same style, and on your back was a small pair of angel wings. You looked charming, but it was just an appearance. Pretty quickly, Jax, as well as the rest of the circus inhabitants, found out that you were short-tempered, irritable and sarcastic, which pleased him until your irritation was directed at him

You found him the least annoying of all, which made you spend time together quite often. Jax managed to amuse you with jokes and practical jokes about others, but the longer you knew each other, the more he realized that your irritation most often stemmed from your fatigue. You were annoyed that you had to constantly wear a dress that, among other things, seemed short to you, to which Jax usually said that it suited you and it was this dress that allowed him to look at least at something pleasant. You complained irritably that you were forced to constantly walk in heels without the opportunity, not only to change shoes, but just to take off your shoes. Jax remembered how you tried to take off your shoes, but it was like they were part of your feet and you just didn't have the opportunity to get rid of them. Sometimes you complained to him that you really wanted to smoke. Jax joked that if you can leave the circus, the first thing he will do is buy you a pack of cigarettes so that you can finally calm down. You usually didn't take such promises seriously, but this time you thanked him and Jax saw the weariness in your eyes

The more people there were in the circus, the more often you thought about how much time you spent there. You didn't remember exactly what year you and Jax ended up there, but it started to feel like many years had passed since you were in the real world. When Pomni appeared, you hoped that at least some fresh air would appear in the circus. In a way, Jax shared your views, seeing new ways to have fun. Usually you were just an observer, but seeing the grin that stretched your black lips, Jax felt pleased. You were the one he liked to spend time with and who shared his views on some things, and as long as his pranks continued to please you, he was happy. The others didn't always understand how you could spend so much time with him, but you were really happy with his company. You didn't try to influence him, but in situations where others tried to restrain him, including physically, you continued to stay away, realizing that there wasn't much you could do against everyone else, even though you felt sorry for him

When you could relax, Jax often came to your room. Even there, it looked like a location from an old cartoon, but you got used to it. You didn't mind his visits. You could talk about everything in the world, and while you weren't looking, Jax could paint on the walls of your room with crayons he found at the circus, adding bright colors to your room. You didn't know how to draw or do anything like that, but Jax didn't need to be able to draw to do it. He would draw a doodle and then tell me what it was, even if it wasn't really like that. You listened to his stories while sitting on the floor next to him, and at some point you could just rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes tiredly. You didn't really need to sleep, but you were trying to get rid of the feeling of fatigue that seemed to be with you all the time, and Jax just liked it when you were around. Sometimes you let him touch your wings, even though you weren't sure if you felt anything from his touch on the wings. When you first joined the circus, you tried to figure out if you could fly, but over time you finally became convinced that your wings had an exclusively decorative function, but Jax still continued to touch them, each time under your gaze saying that he would not pull out your feathers

Sometimes Jax wondered what it was like in the real world. He was wondering if you would have continued laughing at his jokes, or if you were able to get closer only because of the limited number of people you could communicate with. He'd like to see the real you. You couldn't remember what you really looked like, except that you didn't look like you did in the circus. But until you had the opportunity to leave the circus, your dreams were just dreams, and you continued to spend time together. You continued to chat and share what annoyed you, he continued to make you laugh, and you continued to inspire him to make new jokes, even though Jax himself would never admit it to you

[iridescentprose]

Try again - Luca x reader insert [The Bear]

summary; in which you catch the chef smiling at you.

author's note; short but sweet fic about Luca. Just fluff. Please enjoy!

"Worse. Try again."

"Yes, chef."

It was 5:36am.

The numbers of the digital clock above you weren't moving any faster. You had been here for less than an hour and already you were being critiqued on how to properly layer strawberries on top of a crème brûlée custard.

Whatever plans you had of pleasing the chef next to you were slowly diminishing. Your hands shook with self doubt as you pricked at the red fruit, angling it so the mandala spirals could continue. You stepped back, overall pleased with what you had done.

"Better."

It was all you were going to get for now, you knew. But you took his response with pride. After all, you had made significant progress in the past week. Your shoulders relaxed, though your victory was short-lived.

"But."

You lifted a brow. "But?"

He shifted closer to you, his tattooed arm brushing up against yours, making butterflies flutter in your stomach. Your eyes remained downward, concentrated on the different doodles that littered his skin. You wondered what each stroke of ink meant and if they were drawn with intent or if they happened to be the result of a reckless decision.

Or decisions.

"You lack confidence," he said. Even though his eyes were focused on the custard, you could tell he was doing this on purpose—teasing you. The furrowed brow, the slightly scrunched up nose, and the craned neck. What gave away his concentrated act was the corner of his lips, tugged in a meaningful, if not, arrogant fashion.

Despite the heat spreading across your cheeks, you didn't take his criticism to heart. It was true. After all, Carmy set this all up for a reason. You needed the extra practice to hone in on your skill before the upcoming opening. But opening day was weeks away and you already felt too far behind to make a good impression.

"I'm exhausted," You said without thinking. It wasn't the best excuse for your lack of confidence or skill, but it was all you could muster in response. You dropped the miniature metal tongs and braced your hands on the edge of the silver cooking island.

You could hear him chuckle but you didn't bother lifting your gaze to defend yourself. A week of private training wasn't enough to increase your knowledge as quickly as you had hoped. You wanted to be good—better than good. You wanted to be the best version of yourself and you wanted others to experience that through your desserts.

"Good," he said, as you kept your gaze downwards, fixed on his shoes that were inching closer to yours. "For a second I was worried you weren't." He smirked. "Here, try again."

You lifted your head and straightened your posture as he reached across the table for the metal tongs. He handed them to you and you took them into your hand automatically, prying a strawberry that happened to be cut in half, from a small bowl.

Slowly you guided it towards the custard, though it didn't make it's final destination without a little help. In a ghostly fashion, Luca's hand loomed over yours. His rough palm settled over your knuckles — which happened to be stained with flour and vanilla extract.

He did most of the heavy lifting, using a method of confident concentration that you had been trying to master all week. Your hand shook as the strawberry reached its destination, overlaying the endless spiral masterfully.

"Slow and steady wins the race," he mumbled, his breath fanning your cheek. He gently squeezed your fingers prompting the metal tongs let go of the red fruit. "Consistency is key."

The pads of his fingertips brushed over your knuckles as he let go of your shaking hand. Smudges of strawberry paste lingered on your skin as he pulled away.

"Understand?"

You lifted your head, your eyes meeting his. He looked relaxed, if not intrigued by your bravery. A glimmer of a smile came to his lips, though it vanished before you could capture it in your mind. You shook your head free from whatever trance you were under.

"Yes, chef."

With a nod, he swiftly reached for the towel that hung off his shoulder and tossed it to you. You took it, swiping the remnants of sweet ingredients he left on your fingers from his demonstration.

You turned to look over your shoulder, finding him leaning against the metal cabinent, arms crossed and muscles tight.

He met your gaze quickly, almost as if he had been caught watching you. His slight smile diminished, and you couldn't help but shake your head in amusement.

"Again, chef?" You asked.

Testing his reflexes, you tossed the towel and he flinched, but caught it with ease as it hit his chest. A shade of red - the same pigment that stained the towel you had used to wipe your hands - was visible in his cheeks. His lips flickered upwards as he fought the playful smirk flirting with his mouth.

"Yes, chef," he mumbled, tossing the towel over his shoulder and taking his spot next to you. Naturally, his arm brushed up against yours again as he began cutting up more strawberries. "Again."

[sicbaby]

sended this to another acc i really like but ill send this here too :p

vendetta!leon with the biggest corruption kink ever and the girl (reader) that lives in the house just next to his, that always make sure to wish him to "have a good day" when she sees him and gets all red when he says it back, that when she bakes something she always make sure to save some to give it to him, and she tries to have a "friendship" with him so bad but he always seems to ignore her

and he does tries to ignore her because he knows he is def not a good man, he knows it so he always try to show to her that he is not a person, but shes just too stupid to realize that to the point that it makes him a little annoyed and worried for her, it still makes him hard lol

i love vendetta leon cause let’s be real he’s the biggest piece of shit alive and he’s an alcoholic so added bonus! i fantasize about him treating me like shit… anyways.

i imagine reader being a bit of a bimbo of some sort. like so dumb in the brain that there’s absolutely no room for sad or depressing or actual real thoughts that would ruin her day. and leon’s the exact opposite. all he thinks about is sad, fucked up shit that would probably make you vomit on the spot. but he likes that about you, your innocence. it makes him a bit sick, realizing he wants to do nothing but take advantage of you and expose you to the dark thoughts he has.

he can’t deny you’re sexy. those short skirts and low cut tops that have your breasts practically spilling out when you wave good morning to him. the crush you have on him is so painfully obvious. leon isn’t used to that. are you his type? not exactly. but he thinks he could have some fun with you.

he doesn’t start getting annoyed until you start leaving shit on his porch. cute notes, food items, weird love letters that look like a middle schooler made them with cute stickers and heart doodles all over. he’s a grown ass adult for christ sake. he rips up the letters, leaves the remnants on the porch for you to see.

you do see it, makes your heart wrench. yet you keep trying. you really, really like him.

in one last attempt at trying to get his full attention, you take over some food to his house, not just leaving it on the porch this time.

leon answers the door with a scowl on his face. he sees the food and your hopeful smile. “come in.” he grumbles, no greeting necessary. it ticks him a bit that you genuinely think you could win him over this way. your heart flutters as you walk in, taking in his messy house, setting the food down on the counter.

“you know, sweetheart. i’m not an easy man to please. yet, here you are…” he trails off.

you’re so nervous, face burning and throat so dry you feel like throwing up. “i-i just.. wanted to be a good neighbor, you know?”

“bullshit.” he responds quickly, makes you flinch slightly. he couldn’t help himself.

“a good neighbor,” he repeats, a dark chuckle following it. “is that really what you think? you think leaving me food and love letters makes you some kind of saint? don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. this isn’t about being a good neighbor. it’s about you wanting something from me. something you can’t seem to get through that empty, pretty little head of yours.”

he enjoys watching your facial expressions. your smile faltering, face turning into uncertainty. he knows he has the power to turn you into anything he wanted. it was too easy. he called you pretty, though!

“you think i’m some prize, some object to be won, don’t you?” he continues. you’re stunned, mouth open slightly, wanting to interject but nothing comes out.

“relax,” he chuckles. “i’ll let you have me. but i want something from you, first.” he says, inching closer to you, trapping you against the counter. his words were not a promise, merely a trick to get you to give yourself up to him. but he probably didn’t even have to “trick you.” one word and you’d be on his knees for him, wouldn’t you?

you nod eagerly, just as predicted. god, it makes him laugh, it makes him hard. how’d he get so lucky? you didn’t even put up a fight. “anything. i’ll do anything.”

those words triggered something in his brain. and you had absolutely no idea what he was going to do to you. he grabs you by the wrist roughly, leading you to his dark bedroom, throwing you on the bed. he starts degrading you, calling you “slut” and commands you to address him as “sir,” or maybe even “master.” (he’s a sick fuck let’s be real, wants you to be his dumb little pet.)

he could see the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, but you both know you had already given yourself up to him. but that didn’t really matter to him anyway.

he crawls over you, pinning your arms up above your head, kissing at your neck. you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he did so. it made your stomach churn but made your panties wet.

he continues to practically rip your clothes off, muttering things along the lines of “you’re mine now,” “such a pretty little slut,” etc,. every single movement he makes is rough. including spanking, choking, unleashing all his pent up anger, his darkest desires onto you. your pleasure comes second to his.

you’re completely at his mercy, almost like a toy to him. but you like him so much, so you let him :(. you just wanna be his dumb girl.

he ends up fucking you in every single position until you’re a drooling, senseless mess.

not only were you his dumb girl, but you were his slut, his toy, his possession. and in the end, that’s all that mattered to you. at least now, you were finally his.

[theapangea]

Distractions

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie fingers you in the library.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI!!, Fingering, Female Masturbation, Choking, Dirty Talk, Smut

A/n: Ok so I’m trying to get better at writing smut so here’s just a fun little one off!! hope you enjoy!! <3

Silence.

Everything you needed to be able to study for your upcoming Chemistry test on Monday. Perfect and complete silence. 

The textbook, notebook, and practice quizzes are scattered across the table. The sound of pencil writing on paper fills the almost empty library on this Friday afternoon. Deciding that your best work was going to get finished before the weekend. Before any distractions.

“Guess who, princess?”

Speaking of distractions . 

Calloused hands hover in front of your eyes, blocking your view of the messy study session. Your body tenses at the sound of his voice, his lips inches away, his smooth voice whispering in your ear. 

You hum, biting your bottom lip. Knowing exactly who it is, his voice was practically on repeat in your head since you started dating, “Steve?”

The man groans, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. Dropping his hands before crashing into the chair next to you, his hand over his heart acting as if he is hurt by your guess. Another groan, more of a whine this time, your eyes fixated on his movements, the way his head is tilted slightly upwards, his tongue licking his lips before forming into a smile.

A devilish smile just for you.

“Oh…it’s just you, ” You tease, trying to conceal the smile that so desperately wanted to appear.

“You’re disappointed?” He questions, cocking one of his eyebrows. His legs spread wide, stroking his fingers through his already messy hair that covers the top half of his leather jacket. Loving the way his dark jeans hug his thighs, sending wild desires through your mind.

Shrugging your shoulders, intentionally not answering him as you know it will drive him crazy. Your attention goes back to the worksheet in front of you. But before you could actually write anything down, Eddie pulls your chair closer to him, the sound of scraping metal on wood shoots through the small building. Your whole body sliding away from the worksheet. 

His fingers tucking a piece of your hair behind your ears, “What? You wish it was actually Harrington instead of me?” His other hand rubbing along the top of your thigh, the touch alone creating a wet pool in your panties. “You think he can make you feel as good as I can?” His cold fingers start to move up your leg, cursing yourself for wearing a skirt today.

“Eddie, not here.” Quickly grabbing his wrist, stopping him before he moves any closer to your sweet spot. Your eyes dart around the room, wondering if anyone is watching the two of you.

“Why?” He questions, explaining, “No one is around baby .”

“We’re at school, that’s why ?” You say through your teeth.

“Makes it that much more fun, doesn’t it?” He almost whines,the slight tease in his voice and demeanor could crush you right here. Shifting in your seats, this action was obviously noticed by Eddie. “Come on,” he whispers, “I want to hear you moan my name.”

“I have to study.” You persist, finally removing his hand off of your thigh.

“ Boring .” He enunciates very loudly, picking up one of your pens to draw some doodles at the bottom of your notebook. A hidden smile peaks through as you see the little bats drawing. 

Finally thinking you will actually be able to get some work done. 

“You have been teasing me all week.” Eddie accusing you without lifting his head. Continuing in a higher pitched voice, “ Oh, Eddie, I wanna feel you deep instead of me’ ‘I can’t wait to wrap my pretty lips around your huge cock ’.” 

“Eddie!” You squeal, the way you say his name sounds more sexual than intended, huffing “You know I have to study for this test.”

“If you just let me touch that pretty, little pussy of yours, then I’ll leave you alone,” A smirk grows with each word, his head lifting to meet your graze, momentarily forgetting about the drawing. His eyes darken by the sheer thought of being inside of you.

Your eyes dart around the empty library again, finally accepting your fate that he wasn’t going to leave you alone to study. Plus, you had to admit that it was rather hot that he wanted to pleasure you on school grounds.

“Ok.” His eyes light up before you quickly add, “But only for a little bit.”

The playful grin dances across his face as he scoots closer to you. His hand slowly trails your thighs as your legs separate. The cold metal rings that lined his fingers sending goosebumps through your body.

You watch his hand disappear underneath your skirt. Breathing in deeply as his fingers trace over your underwear.

“Are you already dripping wet for me? Does the sheer thought of me touching you turn you on that much?” He coos.

“Shut up.” You say through your teeth, your breath getting caught in your throat as his middle finger hooks under the fabric.

His digits tracing along your entrance as you sharply inhale. The feeling is so good, so pure, so euphoric.

“You are so perfect.” His volume is low as he moves to attack your neck with kisses.

Adjusting yourself in the chair as he works his middle finger inside your folds. The shock of electricity burning inside of you. A small moan falls from your lips as you heave to catch your breath.

Music to Eddie’s ears as he starts to pump his finger inside of you. The wave of pleasure coats through your body, another moan leaves your lips, this time a little louder.

“That’s a good girl. Do you like when I make you feel good?” He smiles into the soft spot on your neck, currently covered in deep purple hickies. 

You nod your head in agreement. The pure ecstasy racing through your veins.

“Only I can make you feel this way, right ?” Eddie stops mid pump, his dark eyes staring at you awaiting your answer. 

Shaking your head quickly, your eyes begging him to continue. 

“Tell me baby .” He begins, “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel this way. Feel this good .”

“You’re the only one.” Your words are breathy, needy.

His other arm wrapping around your back, hand placing around your neck, fingers gripping delicately, squeezing before his middle finger begins moving again. The whines are laced in desire as he moves faster, hooking his finger inside your core.

“Does my little princess liked being finger fucked?” He teases, his breath hot against your ear, his fingers gripping tighter around your neck.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out as he adds another finger into your folders, stretching you more to accommodate his size.

“I need to hear you baby, how am I supposed to know if you truly like it?” He nibbles on your ear.

“Yes,” the breathy word barely being spoken.

“Good girl. My perfect girl, ” His words encasing your whole body.

Releasing his grasp on your neck, to move your head towards him, catching his lips in a wet kiss. Barely able to focus on the kiss as he curls his digits, making you moan against his lips. The intense vibration humming through your ears.

“I love making you moan.” He states as he pulls away. “You like moaning for me, princess ? You like when I can make you come?”

You shake your head yes, his fingers pumping perfectly inside of you. Faster, faster, faster. Your mind not able to focus on anything else except the pure pleasure that his long digits are making you feel.

“This is all about you baby . I love making you feel good.” He kisses your neck again.

It was as if your body could contain itself anymore, buckling under his touch.

“Cum for me.” He whispers against your sore skin, “ Be a good girl and cum for me. ”

And his wish was your command as you try to contain the moans that escape your lips. Riding out your high while grinding against his fingers. 

Gentling pulling his fingers from your core, bringing them up to his lips to lick them. A few laughs escape your lips as you realize what you just did. Where you both still were.

“Wanna come over to my house to finish studying?” He questions, hinting at the bulge in his pants. 

~~~

Let me know what you think by liking or comment!! I seriously love you so much if you took the time to read my work!!

Also posted on A03: theapangea

Requests are open <3

[trybeforeyoudeny]

It all happened so fast.

Eddie had been checking him out from across the bar and before he knew what was happening he was being pressed against the bathroom stall door, hot kisses being pressed into his neck.

He had been six, maybe seven shots deep, but even through blurry eyes he could tell that this man is the most beautiful person he's ever laid his cynical eyes on.

"W-wait, slow down," Eddie moans out, looking down at the man whose now on his knees in front of him, one hand trailing underneath his shirt while the other dips below the top of his jeans, fingers toying with his boxers. He's looking at him with desperation, like he wants to worship him. Devour him.

"What's wrong?" The man pouts, and oh. That damn mouth. Those lips. Eddie curses under his breath.

"What's your name?" Eddie can't continue without having a name to moan.

"Steve," the man chuckles, leaving a wet, sloppy kiss on Eddie's hip. "Steve Harrington."

Eddie freezes.

"Harrington?" The disbelief is evident in his voice and he immediately feels himself sobering up. This cannot be happening.

Steve must sense the shift in the atmosphere because he leans back, looking up at him with confusion. Suddenly his eyes begin to widen as he stares into Eddie's, everything clicking together.

"Eddie-" he breathes out his name softly, not moving from his spot on the floor, not removing his hands from his body.

"I... I should go," Eddie begins to panic, trying to back away but realizing very quickly that he's cornered in the small stall.

"Wait-" Steve stands up, cupping Eddie's face in his hands. "Why are you trying to leave?"

He's taken aback, to say the least. He figured as soon as Steve realized it was him he'd run out of the bathroom faster than they had gotten here. Hell- he's still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Steve Harrington is even here at this gay bar to begin with.

"Because you're you and I'm... well, I'm me," he lets out a self-deprecating laugh but Steve only frowns and brushes Eddie's hair away from his face and begins peppering kisses along his jaw, eliciting a feral noise out of Eddie.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Steve mumbles with his lips still pressed greedily into Eddie's skin.

"God. Please don't," Eddie pleads, every ounce of dignity leaving his body at once.

"You know," Steve bites the sensitive flesh behind Eddie's ear, hot breath sending shivers down his spine. "I always had a thing for you back in high school."

Just like that Eddie feels his blood run cold and his body heat up in one fell swoop. "W-what?" He gasps, unable to grasp what he's hearing. Steve the hair Harrington liked him?! And he never noticed?!

"Well, duh," Steve laughs softly. He's made his way back down to his knees, looking up at him with big doe eyes practically begging to take off his pants, and who is Eddie to deny the king of what he wants?

"Go ahead, big boy."

Steve fucking whimpers at that and begins to expertly undo his belt as he continues talking. "How could I not have a thing for you? You were so badass and outspoken. You never let anyone bring you down. I wanted to be like you." He finished the sentence with a happy little noise as he pulls down Eddie's jeans and boxers, freeing Eddie's cock and putting it in full display.

"Trust me, sweetheart, you wouldn't have wanted to be me back then," he inhales sharply as Steve bobs his head down his full length without warning. Jesus, this guy knows what he's doing. He's never had anyone take him so well. Steve's got him quivering like a fucking virgin and he has to stick his arms straight out, pressing against the wall opposite of him to keep himself from collapsing.

"Hmm," Steve hums with Eddie's tip pressed to his lips, the vibration driving him even further into madness. "That may be true, but that didn't stop me from fantasizing. Doodling hearts in my notebooks with our initials. Imagining your hand replacing mine when I pleasured myself late at night," he continues to spew filthy words at him but Eddie nearly comes undone at just the mere thought of pretty boy Stevie writing his name in the margins on his pages, twirling his hair and biting the end of his pencil.

"Fuck, Steve I'm close," he brings one hand down to run his fingers through Steve's infamous hair, gripping it firmly before letting go of the last thread of restraint he had been holding onto.

“Your turn, Harrington,” Eddie slides his fingers through Steve’s belt loops, pulling him back to his feet.

“Nuh-uh,” Steve presses a hand firmly into his chest, abruptly stopping him before he can drop to his knees. “How about you take me to dinner first?” He cracks a wide smile and Eddie feels his heart skip a beat.

“It’s a date.”

[quotidianish]

TF2 x ATLA AU :3

Lore, close ups, and doodles underneath !

Scout, Pauling, and Ludwig are the main three- scout, who’s an (admittedly shitty) airbender but not the avatar, who ran away after his father left. Once spotted by fire nation soldiers, he is presumed to be the avatar- and scout basks in the glory of his false identity. Pauling- a studious, too serious for her own good, non-bender, who’s Medic’s student. She’s of the southern water tribe, treating medic like her paternal figure after the disappearance of her aunt. Medic is (unbeknownst to pauling and scout) a blood bender who was exiled for his practices. He doesn’t seem to care for anyone or anything, also being very jovial and cheery.

All Pauling and Scout know is that Ludwig was exiled from the northern water tribe then fled to the south for an undisclosed reason. Pauling never bothered to pry and the Scout was too intimidated to. Here the avatar cycle has indeed been broken. It’s up to a group of nine ragtag men and one mousy girl to defeat Gray Mann.

And the main three villains are soldier, demo, and sniper who're all fire nation folk. Sort of the team rocket; never truly competent enough to cause real damage, that or their hearts truly aren’t in it.

Soldier's a fire bender who specializes in jet propulsion and was kicked out of the army. He thinks if he steals back the avatar, they'll let him back in. A weapon since childhood, once a bully, always a bully, or so he’s heard.Character arc being the realization the fire nation army isn't worth fighting for. Surprisingly, he is very good with spirits, opposite to his best friend, Tavish, who despises them.

Demo’s just trying to impress his mum and be a good friend to the Soldier. People pleasing tendencies, that's his character arc. He's supposedly a non bender who's mighty good with swords; but underneath his inconspicuous-ish eye patch holds a combustion bending tattoo. Only Jane knows this. Well-versed in calligraphy.

Sniper is a 26 year old yuyan archer who was discharged for failing a mission while he was young. He joined the other two with the same goal as the Soldier. His yuyan archer tattoo still remains. He's a non bender with excellent aim, who grew up on the rural outskirts of the fire nation. His character arc is something about not adhering to expectations and learning who he's fighting for; a combination of the demoman and the soldier’s lessons.

Spy's a crusty airbender constantly sporting a mask to hide his tattoos, and knife. Nobody has a clue where he's from and he takes orders from whoever pays him best. His airbending tricks are so subtle, the public believes him to be a crafty nonbender. Usually said tricks are only invisibility and voice alteration. While not assassinating political figures he traverses the spirit world looking for his wife, a fellow air nomad, avoiding physical aging in brief sprints of time. He returns on a well paid mission to kill the “avatar,” which was presumably the scout. Little does he know, that weird whiteboy is just some lame airbender. Who’s also his son. His bad.

Engineers the metalbender; an art perfected by his ancestors and passed down in whispers to him. I haven't developed him much. He teaches the Scout what he knows while obscuring information on how he got that metal arm. Him and the Pyro have a shared love of blacksmithing. From an explosion, he thinks..

Pyro's a spirit probably. Nobody knows what he is. Where he’s from? Pyro. What’s his gender? Pyro. Guy who sets things on fire. Presumably human judging by his questionable use of what looks to be fire bending. And also the Spy's companion! They met in the spirit world. He and the Soldier form a close bond quite quickly thanks to their good graces with spirits (to Tavish’s immense dismay).

Heavy's an earth bender who continues to win in underground fights. Residing in ba sing se with his three sisters and elderly mother, scout pauling and medic meet him in an earth bender championship. Despite what his appearance suggests, his patience is unmatched, which is his greatest strength. He has near -perfect seismic sense. He and the Medic get on quite well, and after the fire lord has been struck down, form a duo in the ring, earning even more won championships.

[sinsinsininning]

A little bit softer

Chapter 4

Eustass Kid x crew mate!fem!Reader

This includes Kid’s POV of the end of Chapter 3 while the reader is in the shower. 😳

Also to clarify, Badger is a made up character, I didn’t feel like incorporating a cannon character into the reader’s backstory. I spent literally 2 seconds on the name and even less time on a vague description of him which I’ll post later.

TW: swearing, voyeurism, masturbating (both male and female)

~~~~~~~

After you left him on the deck, Kid ate slowly, thinking out the details of his next steps. He had no idea where this bastard, Badger, was or even what he’d look like.

Plus the West Blue was crawling with dangerous crews and the notorious 5 Families of the West, headed up by Capone Bege. Not someone Kid was on good terms with and, depending on how deep into the West they’d go, someone they’d likely run into.

While Kid would prefer to just make this a quick mission, so they could double back and enter the Grand Line, he was excited to think of all the practice the crew would get fighting all these other crews. It’d be good training before they entered the New World.

After finishing, he pulled out the maps and started charting again. Wire eventually returned to join him and the two worked quietly. Kid was making a list of things they could get while in the West Blue when Wire spoke up.

“So what’s this Captain’s name?”

“Why’re you asking?” Kid growled. “Just chart the stupid map.”

“I’m nearly done, I just need to know where to find him, then I can finalize the map. Right now I’ve just got it charted how to get there while avoiding marines bases and included supply stops. But I need a specific area to finish.”

“His name is Badger.” Kid said after a beat.

“Is that his first name or last name?” Wire asked.

“The fuck if I know. His name is Badger, he’s in the West Blue, and I’m gonna kill him. Make the map.” Kid blustered for a moment, he felt a little silly, all this effort and he didn’t even know who the guy was. Fuck he didn’t even know if you’d been honest…. Nah you were nearly crying, you wouldn’t lie like that. Wire sighed heavily and Kid nearly smashed the table.

“Ok, I can’t finish it tonight, but I’ll go through some logs and see if I can get more info on him.” Wire relented, knowing the captain was at his limit. “We should be able to make it to the next island tomorrow, I’ll do some more digging then too.” Kid grunted an acknowledgement, head down as he finished his list, pen nearly tearing the paper.

Wire stood and started putting the supplies away, he glanced at his captain.

“Boss… you know-“ He paused and considered himself, Kid glanced at him with a scowl. Better play it safe. “Just let me know if you need anything, you know I’d help.” Kid bristled at that, but just grunted again to dismiss the tall man.

He doodled a few sketches of his projects on the list, trying to clear his head. Eventually he puts everything up and leans against the railing, watching the waves and night sky.

After an hour or so, Heat joins him to take his watch shift, but brought a few beers for his captain. Kid downs his first two quickly, then nurses the next one.

“It’s none of my business,” Heat starts off.

“Then don’t fucking bring it up.” Kid snaps.

“But I think we should get rid of the sniper rookie.” Heat continues, eyes on the coast.

“What? Why the fuck do you think that?” Kid stood to shout at him. “Thought you two were buddy-buddy?!” He could keep the jealously out of voice.

“She’s alright. But she’s soft.” Heat isn’t phased by the shouting. “She won’t make it in the Grand Line. We can’t have that type of weakness.”

“Quincy’s soft. Wire’s soft. You questioning my authority huh?” Kid gulped the rest of his drink and tossed the bottle behind him. “You think I keep a weak crew?! That what you’re trying to say?!”

“The only thing she’s got going for her is she’s cute.” Heat added nonchalantly, Kid was fuming.

“Fuck off like she’d want your ugly, stitched up headed ass!” Kid grabbed his vest, forcing the other man to look at him. “She’s staying, she’s a good sniper and a good crew mate. Fucking question me again and I’ll fucking throw you overboard!” Heat grinned and Kid felt like he’d been caught.

“I get why everyone’s been fucking with you lately,” Heat chuckled. “It’s fun. You’re so biased for her, I’m a little jealous really, wish you’d defend me this hard.”

Kid wanted to shout again but he felt like he’d reveal too much. Well, more than what he’d already done. His face was hot and he felt deflated, but he released Heat with a shove.

“Maybe if ya did your job and not play mind games I would.” He finally says, Heat resumes his watch. An awkward silence falls over them.

“It’s not that bad, Boss. Trust me it could be worse. Imagine you liked Pomp? He’s fucking insane. I heard he sold his ex husband’s kidney for cheating on him in a dream.” Heat tried to console his friend, not his forte, but he felt a little bad at his trick. Kid let out a short laugh.

“Fuckin’ hell that can’t be true…. Can it?” He started on his next beer, sitting back down. They laugh together again.

“I don’t actually think we should get rid of her. Just sayin.”

“I know.”

“Yeah she’s soft, but she saved my ass that last fight, shooting that guy trying to creep up on me while I was taking care of Reck.”

Kid just hummed in response, still hesitant to say anything about her. Heat noticed.

“I promise it’s not that bad.”

Silence.

“I don’t think she’s scared of you, not really at least.”

“I heard what she said to you.”

“I think she’s scared of her ex captain. Should make her sit down with Wire, he’d sort her head out.” Heat lit a cigarette, offering a pull to Kid who shook his head.

“Not a bad idea. Just don’t want anyone knowing how-“ He paused. “She can go to Wire but I’m not gonna make her.” He said finally, Heat nodded in understanding.

“You can’t say it, I gotcha.”

“I can’t say it first.” Kid sighed, finishing his last bottle.

“Makes sense. Don’t worry,” Heat claps his hand on the captain’s shoulder. “It’ll happen.”

“Since when have you gotten this mushy?” Kid sneered. “I hate it. Go back to minding your own business.” Heat laughed as his captain got up. It was past midnight and he was tired.

He made his way down the halls, he needed to return his dishes or else Killer would bitch at him all day tomorrow. He placed them in the sink, then a thought struck him. Quickly glancing in the fridge, your plate was still there, all wrapped up nicely.

You hadn’t eaten since breakfast, he slammed the fridge shut. Fuck, you probably hadn’t finished your shit yet. He stalked down the halls towards your make shift shop room, irritated that you’d not finished yet and had still not eaten.

A small part of him was excited to have an excuse to talk to you, even if it was just to bitch at you. Maybe he’d walk you to the galley personally, to make sure you followed orders. Maybe he’d sit with you as you ate too, couldn’t let you try to skip out. After that he’d grumble at you for making him stay up late to babysit you, even though he chose to do it.

Then he may as well make you go to bed. His bed. With him. Obviously to make sure you didn’t try to sneak back to your project. He’d keep you pressed in his arms all night to ensure you didn’t try anything.

Fuck he needed to stop, he was hard in the middle of the hallway. He adjusted his belt before entering the shop room, hoping it’d hide his arousal. Somehow the shop was empty, all the weapons cleaned and stacked up correctly. He looked around for any mistakes or mess you’d left behind, anything that’d allow him a chance to speak with you.

But the room was spotless, everything put away correctly. Then where the fuck were you? He wondered if you went to bed right away, tempted to check your bunk. He headed toward it, pausing when he passed by the bathrooms, steam pouring out the door.

The doors to the bathrooms all had hatches at the top that opened to allow steam to vent. He was a little impressed that the hot water still worked after everyone’s showers.

With you in the stalls he didn’t have any excuse to bother you, you’d finished your work and unless he wanted to wait until you were out to force you to the galley, he was out of luck for tonight. Kid turned to go when he heard you moan.

Oh fuck.

He glanced around the halls, no one could hear you or see him palm his cock over his pants. You weren’t generous with your noises, obviously trying to stifle them, but some slipped out.

Your groans and whines sounded frustrated, like you couldn’t work how you wanted. He reached his hand inside his pants to grip himself, jaw clenched almost painfully to avoid alerting you. His mind filled in the gaps of what he couldn’t see. He pictured walking in and offering to help you reach your climax, since you still seemed to struggle.

He thought about how’d you’d look right then if he did, wet and naked, probably surprised and shy. Maybe you’d try to cover yourself, until you’d realize what he was offering. Or maybe you already knew he was there, confident he’d join you. Maybe you’d tell him exactly what you wanted from him.

He’d let you boss him around, at least at the start, but after you cum once or twice, then he’d be in control again. He thumbed his slit right as you let out a different moan.

Oh. That one was much more satisfied, he didn’t know what changed to make everything work for you, but he was pleased. He stroked himself faster now, checking the halls quickly, then held his ear to the open hatch. Your whines and moans were breathier, much more high pitched. He squeezed his cock, picturing it was you. When he closed his eyes and really focused on listening, he swore he could hear how wet your pussy sounds.

Your moans are getting faster and he tries to keep up, hand pumping hard to get himself off. Finally you let off a loud moan, cutting yourself off halfway through in a pathetic attempt to be quiet. He’s not quite there yet, so he moves his hand fast, but freezes when you turn of the shower.

Shit you were done. He was fucked.

Without adjusting his pants he quickly walks down the hall, his workshop is closer than his room. It’ll have to do for now, it’s not the first time he’s jacked off in there. He gets the door closed and locked before resuming.

Part of him is irritated, his high was so close just to be edged back. But more of him felt a little proud, you’d gotten off before him, as you should. Yeah it wasn’t like he’d gotten you to cum, but it still stroked his ego. He thought about that as he sat down, hand around himself again, stroking quickly.

He wondered how many times he should make you cum before he did. Hell how many times should you cum before he even fucked you with his cock. At least two times on his fingers and maybe three times of his tongue, that seemed fair.

He rubbed his tip harshly as he thought about your sounds, they were so sweet and full of emotion. Kid could basically read your mind from how expressive you were, so open and honest with your lewd moans. He could tell when you were close, when you were struggling, and even when something clicked. He wondered what it was that made you moan like that, thinking of ways to extract that info.

His climax caught him off guard as he thought about you. He came across his hand and chest with a groan, some of his spend getting on his pants. As he came down, panting as he leaned back in his chair, he could hear you walking down the hall.

Leaping up, he tucked himself back into his pants, grabbed an old rag to wipe the cooling cum from his hands and chest. He knocked over the chair and toppled a few tools in his haste. Your steps were quiet but he was hyper aware of you as you passed the door.

After a few minutes of quiet he finally exited, going straight to his room and laying face down on the bed. He wanted to shout but settled for smothering himself until he finally dozed off.