#Plus its fun to read and see everyone having fun :)

[factual-fantasy]

I've been thinking about adding Skywarp and Thundercracker to my AU for a while now. :0 I'm thinking the two of them and Screamer will be a set of triplets. Not clones or drones or whatever else they may be in other continuities. Any other "seekers" or "flight frames"...? Will not look identical to the trio.

(These are a little batch of test redesigns. I have a looot more passes to do before I'm satisfied! <XDD)

And then Jetfire... I've thought about adding him which is why I've drawn this scene for fun, buuuuuutt ultimately I don't think Jetfire has a place in my AU. It leaves too many plot holes and angst in its wake.

(A ramble on why Jetfire wont work is below! <XD)

The first reason why I don't think Jetfire (aka Skyfire) can exist in my AU, is because of this paragraph from his wiki:

"Millions of years ago on Cybertron, before the war, Skyfire and Starscream were good friends and fellow scientists. On a mission of exploration to prehistoric Earth, Skyfire was lost in a storm. Starscream searched, but there was no sign of his comrade. He returned home."

Now, Optimus does say that Earth and Cybertron have been intertwined for what seems like forever. But -unless there's something I don't know/remember- no living cybertronian ever set foot/made any contact with Earth in any way until AFTER the war began. So how and why did Starscream and Jetfire go to Earth before the war? It conflicts with canon.

The second reason is a simple one really. While it may have worked in G1, I cannot find a logical explanation as to HOW Jetfire was still alive and could be reactivated after crashing into the Arctic. It not like he was put into stasis on purpose and kept in a special pod in the warm desert, like Skyquake. He CRASHED into the ARCTIC. So not only was he wounded but there was literally a WHOLE EPISODE in Prime about how the cold has devastating effects on the cybertronian body. Within HOURS of being there, Optimus Prime and Arcee were literally about to die. There is just no way Jetfire logically survives in this continuity..

And lastly, there's where the story would go afterwards. And I don't like what I see. :(

You see, if I bring Jetfire into my AU, I want him to stay friends with Starscream and stay with him. But making that happen requires me to break at least something from canon.

Option 1: Jetfire stays with the Decepticons and supports their cause. Which wont work because his whole story arc is being an ex-con who doesn't agree with what their doing-

Option 2: Starscream has a redemption arc and joins the Autobots with Jetfire. This is a problem because I would want Thundercracker and Skywarp to go with them. And tbh I don't think any of the screamers can be redeemed. They're cons to their core. To make them switch sides would feel too forced. Plus I like the 3 idiots being cons and getting on Megs nerves XD

Option 3: The timeline is the same as G1. Jetfire splits from the cons and joins the Autobots, leaving the triplets behind. This is obviously sad and I don't want that. 🫸

So with that all laid out, I have Jetfire in the bleachers for now. If I can find a way to solve all 3 of these problems then I'll add him to my AU in a heart beat. And everyone is welcome to correct me on any of these if I got the facts wrong or if you have any ideas on how to bring him into my AU! :0 I want to add him I just don't see a satisfying way to do it yet.

Thank you for reading! :)))

[cleverxgirl]

The tyrannosaur watched from within the trees as everyone began to sing. She had observed their little gathering from afar. The dinosaur was originally drawn in by the smell of delectable treats but stopped midway. She couldn't tell why they were all sing and laughing, but she particularly care either. They were all having a good time, and that's all that mattered.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Surprised to see that you as a communist (and a lot of other communists too) seem to like disco elysium so much. doesn't the game make fun of communists a lot?

It does! Quite frequently and gleefully, in fact.

My blanket response to this type of question about most pieces of media would be that, in the words of Big Joel, "I am not a politics robot". My enjoyment of a piece of art is almost entirely orthogonal to how much its implicit or explicit worldview aligns with mine. And I think ultimately that's the way you end up having to approach media if you're a communist who plays videogames at all. Or reads fantasy books. Or watches anime. Or... you get the idea.

But in the case of Disco Elysium specifically I think the read that the game depicts communism just as negatively as all the other ideologies it criticizes is a quite shallow one. Ultimately we're being shown this world through a very communist lens. Like yeah the game has a lot of (usually pretty funny) jokes about firing squads and about "communism is about failure" and about pretentious overeducated college communists who do nothing but read theory and then do some leftist infighting about it, it doesn't shy away from the immoral actions of the revolutionary army, it depicts the dockworkers union as extremely shady and corrupt and basically a crime syndicate (although this depiction is way more nuanced if you actually take the time to dig deeper and talk to people about it), and generally doesn't shy away from pointing at the ugly parts of a variety of communist movements past and present. But, under all of that, the game's understanding of issues like class and poverty and crime and colonialism and imperialism and international conflict is ultimately rooted in a very marxist worldview.

I once saw someone say something along the lines of "everyone in this game talks like a communist regardless of political alignment", and while that's obviously an extremely hyperbolic statement, I do think there's a nugget of truth in it, the clearest example being Joyce Messier. Joyce is an ultraliberal, the furthest thing from a communist you're going to find in the DE universe. And yet, when she talks about the world she does so in very marxist terms, like in her famous "Capital has the ability to subsume all critiques into itself" quote. Like. You'd never catch a real libertarian expressing that idea Like That. And a lot of the more serious, in-depth political discussions in the game are similar.

Plus, ultimately... regardless of how much criticism the game piles on it, of all the ideologies it criticizes, communism is the only one which is not depicted as a completely lost cause. The communist vision quest ends on a quite hopeful note, unlike pretty much any other one, and the Union is ultimately shown as having tons of popular support because they're the only ones who have actually gotten shit done to somewhat improve the lives of the people of Martinaise. I have lots of thoughts about the way Evrart Claire and the Dockworkers union are depicted actually, but for the time being I'm just going to say that the read of "unions are corrupt and union leaders are greedy fat cats who only care about their personal gain", while not exactly lacking in textual support, is likewise an extremely shallow one.

[cronasluvr]

DIFFERENT.

rafe cameron x male reader

genre: smut

warnings: cursing, pet names, dirty-talk, penetration, smut, alcohol, drugs, noncon/dubcon, not proof-read

a/n: mb for the inconsistent posting T-T I didn’t have much motivation but I came up with this! also sorry if its not the best ;(

Rafe loved parties. He loved every aspect of them like the drinks, the drugs, but mostly the sex. Rafe enjoyed selling drugs to randoms and also getting drunk but sex would always top those things, he loved how he never had to stick with the same person and could fuck any girl he wanted. 

They always would be wrapped around his finger and Rafe would just leave them to fend for themselves after he was satisfied. He knew it was toxic but thats the only way he felt a sense of power, he wanted to be better than his dad so this would help him feel something and nothing could stop him. 

Rafe had a reputation of being the perfect kook; Rich, hot, and straight, so whenever any boys would try to pounce on him or tease him with sexual jokes he would decline right away and never look back.

His friend was hosting a party that started around sunset and of course Rafe was gonna be there, he just recently got new drugs so he was definitely excited for the money.  It had already been a while since the party had started and business was booming, the only downside was he hadn’t had much sex yet so it was getting a little boring. Rafe kept selling for a little while until he had enough, he was indeed of pussy right now.

You were doing homework until your phone started to ring, “M/n!!! It’s the weekend let’s go to Toppers Partttyy.” it was your bestfriend, “I have homework to do not today.” You said while continuing, “Cmonn you never go out and plus everyone’s gonna be there including Rafe Cameron.” they say the last part teasingly.

You never understood the hype of Rafe Cameron, yes you believed Rafe was handsome but thats it. You’d always questioned why girls would be all over him other than his looks. You knew Rafe sold  drugs so you would stay far from him just in case, but at the end of the day you decided that a break would be okay.

You sigh annoyingly “Okay fine whatever, pick me up in 20.” You heard your friend yelp in excitement, “See ya in 20!!” They hanged up. After that conversation you decided to get up and get ready, you decided to wear a basic tee and jorts with sandals. After a while your friend finally arrived, “Ready m/n??” They said excitedly, “I guess”. You both start making your way to Toppers house.

Rafe was halfway drunk by now and decided to snort another line. You arrived to the party and your friend decided to split up to get drinks. You were walking through the crowd and saw Rafe, he looked at you and you both made eye contact. He looked at you with hungry eyes but you look away and walk to the kitchen for drinks. 

At first you told yourself you wouldn’t get too drunk but now you’re here tripping and stumbling all over, you couldn’t find your friend so you decided to dance with the crowd. Rafe was fully gone at this point but then he decided to let some energy out and began to walk toward the crowd, as he approached the crowd he saw you dancing in the middle.

You were having the time of your life until you felt somebody press against your back, “Having fun m/n?” Rafe whispered in your ear, your face started to heat up and you turned around to meet his face. Inches apart you felt his breath against your lips and smelt the alcohol from his mouth, “G-good” you said with slurred words, “Thats good, just keep dancing” he says as he places his hands on your hips and starts making you grind on him. Your face starts heating up more but you continue to grind on him, “Just like that” he encourages, you both stay in that position for a little more till next thing you know hes pushing you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist.

At this point you both are making out with each other and it felt so good, “M-mm!” you moan out as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He continues to fight with your tongue until he wins dominance and starts making you breathless. You pull away and look into his eyes in awe, “You taste so good baby”, he carries you into one of the bedrooms and lays you on the bed, “R-rafe, i n-need you”, you say looking at him with hungry eyes. 

You knew this was wrong but it felt so good, “here let’s get you naked” he moves his hand toward your top and starts remove it with your pants too. Your face turns even more red, “You look so cute like this” he looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, you move your hands toward his shirt and help him take it off. 

You trace your hands on his biceps in awe, “You like that?” He smirks and begins to kiss your neck, “M-mmm” you moan out. He stops at your nipples and starts sucking them, “R-rafe!” You moan even louder, “Sensitive huh?” He stares up at your face while biting your nipple, “f-fuck!” you bite your lip to contain your moans. 

He slurps them even more and your body jerks in pleasure, “M-more!” you beg as you move your hand to guide his head, he doesn’t listen and teases you while continuing to suck on your nipples while watching you squirm under him.

“o-oh my god!” you moan out while stopping his movements, “n-need your c-cock” you beg even more, “Whatever you need then baby” as he begins to start unzipping his pants and letting his cock free from his boxers. He lowers your pants down along with your underwear and spits on his head, “Let me just get this needy hole ready” he smirks and starts inserting one finger into your hole, “O-oh f-fuck” you moan while clenching the bed sheets. 

He adds more fingers until he gets to three and starts hitting your prostate, “Mmm so wet for me” he looks at you squirm even more under him, “I-Im close!!” you moan out as he quickly pulls all his fingers out, “Not yet baby”, you look up at him with teary eyes. Rafe began to slowly insert his cock into your gummy walls and you couldn’t hold back, “S-so big, s-so full!!” you loudly moan out, he began to start thrusting into you with a fast pace. 

You came undone onto your stomach but he continued, “You feel that baby its in your stomach” he moves even faster and leans in to start making out with you. You felt another high incoming and you started to scratch his back from the pleasure, “C-close daddy!!”, “Fuck m/n!”and with one final thrust you both come undone. “Mmm so warm”, he says while kissing your lips and still continuing to thrust slowly into your hole to ride his high out, you moan quietly and begin to lose consciousness. 

He looks up at your face and finds you sleeping, “we only had one round :[“ he says a little annoyed but decides to get up and clean you both. He didn’t understand why he just had sex with you, but it felt so right to him so he knew you were different.

The next day you felt warmth with his arms wrapped around your body, you turn to face him and see him sleeping peacefully, “what a cutie” as you peck his nose, falling back to sleep content.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Zevran, under a cut for length:

"I was going to skip over Zevran, honestly, as I felt like I didn't have a lot to tell in the way of stories about him... but I know he still has some (ardent) fans. Plus, on reflection, I thought maybe I DO have a few things to say. 😅 Sooo we'll see how this goes. Zevran came along much later in the DAO process, as we were trying to round out the cast of party members. Alistair and Morrigan were well underway (as "main" characters, they were concepted very early) and I'd just started to consider who our Rogue followers might be when... things changed, a bit. See, BioWare had released a game not long beforehand called Jade Empire. It had included some same-sex options in its romances - not obscured like the way Juhani's "romance" had been hinted at in KotOR, but explicit. To this day, I have no idea who on the Jade Empire team was behind it, or why. More to the point, the same-sex options had received a lot of attention and praise - almost universal praise, in fact. In 2005, everyone was just pleasantly surprised. And I don't recall if I went to James and asked about it or if he came to me to suggest DAO should include it. The latter, I think."

"You might ask "Aren't you gay, Dave? Weren't you already pushing for this?" And the answer to that is, emphatically, "no, not at all". It might seem odd looking through the lens of 2024, but there was no talk of 'representation' or 'diversity'. Not at any level where we were aware of it, anyhow. Today, fans argue about how MUCH representation to include and whether it's done well enough... the idea that, less than twenty years ago, it being included *at all* was very much in doubt feels so far away. But, back then, I'd always assumed my private life and my work in games would never meet. So I think it was James who brought it up, because I remember being startled. Pleasantly so, of course. Now I had to look at our two rogues and figure out how this would apply. I sketched out the female of the two (who was taken on by Sheryl Chee) and then looked at the male - he who became Zevran. I'd been reading about the CIA and one thing that stuck with me was how they'd (allegedly) recruit gay men as assassins because they rarely had familial ties. Zevran wasn't going to be gay (bisexuality wasn't a question of representation, but a cost-benefit compromise) but that was the inspiration."

"Then there was the question of how "flamboyantly" I was writing this character, whether that might be too stereotypical? I don't remember how it arose, but I had too many "flamboyant" friends to do anything other than double down. This character was gonna be Zorro the goddamn Gay Blade, that's what. So that's how Zevran happened. Fun, a bit nihilistic, maybe a bit too overtly flirty for today's audience but very confidently *sexual*. Everything I'm not, so I'll admit it was an interesting exploration to dig down and find that voice somewhere inside. He was the anti-Alistair, and I needed that. Casting him was difficult. Caroline always tried to go for authentic accents, when we could, but for some reason this was getting us nowhere. I think back, and I suspect it's because I hadn't yet learned the lesson to not use terms in casting descriptions I thought were universal... but were not. What do I mean by that? Well, there was one write-up that said "drow elf". Now, I know what a drow elf is. It wasn't even important to the description, but the director saw the word "elf", and you know what we got back? A Keebler elf. Like a leprachaun, high and sweet and cutsie. Can you imagine?"

"In this case, I think it was the use of the word "assassin". Combine that with the sorts of roles many Hispanic actors in LA probably are asked to play, and all the auditions we were getting were 150% dark, mean, and gritty. 🫠 So we widened the casting call a bit, and this led us to Jon Curry. I knew Jon wasn't Hispanic, but what I wasn't prepared for when I flew down to meet the DAO actors was that he's this extremely tall, extremely Nordic looking dude who just happened to do the most amazing Antonio Banderas impression. Watching THAT man channel Zevran was... more than a bit surreal. 😅 And he had fun with it. As soon as we gave him the go ahead to play the fun and flirtiness to the hilt, that's exactly what he did. Over the few days where we found Zevran's voice, it totally supplied me with something I could hold in my head when I went back to Edmonton and finished writing him. Zevran was funny enough that the fans liked him. The only part of the reception I thought odd was the occasional comment by a male player who felt "tricked" into having sex with Zevran. "You mean... that part where he invites you to his tent for a sensual massage?" "Yes! I was expecting a massage!" "He literally says the massage is sensual." "Well he wasn't clear enough!" This is where I first came to the conclusion that a certain number of our players just don't know how to people. And that maybe an adjustment to the way we approached the messaging (or massaging lol) of romance was in order. If I could go back, would I change anything? Maybe I'd remind the systems team Zevran should really be able to pick a lock. And maybe not allow him to die. We had no idea we'd need to import these choices into the future - we kinda thought DAO was "one and done". Not so much, as it turned out. 😁"

[source thread]

David Gaider: "there's something to be said about how Zevran flirted and even had sex with you because he thought that's all he had to offer... not just you, but anyone. And when he realized you wanted something deeper, suddenly he was on unsteady ground and it truly unsettled him. It was fun to explore." [source]

User: "So David - besides loving the fact that the third image you picked is a gay sex scene - what happened in DA2(DAE - come on) with Zevrans design?" David Gaider: "Check the ALT text. It wasn’t a custom sculpt, so that’s as close as they could get it. Which… was not close." [source]

User: "Just to make sure I fully understand: the director (was it the voice director?) saw the word "elf" and thought you were looking for someone high, sweet, and cutesie?" David Gaider: "Yeah, this was from back before we managed VO in-house. The voice director in this case just didn’t have an association with “elf” like some familiar with fantasy would." [source]

[ace-turned-confused]

seashells & sandcastles | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

summary: weekend break in full swing, you spend the day “relaxing” with joel word count: 5,3k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied / wears a bikini & a dress / can swim, Joel picks up & carries reader but Joel = huge big strong man so he can carry anyone (fight me if you disagree), pet names, unspecified age gap, food & alcohol consumption, parents getting tipsy, smut, super duper explicit grinding (?), public fingering, unprotected p in v, come eating, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, pussy pronouns huzzah!, praise kink, size kink a/n: so........... sea spray was just a silly little oneshot that now has over 1k notes which is actually insane????? actually cried about that btw but anyways i cannot thank everyone enough for all the kind words 🥹 this follows on from where we left off, but could be read on its own :) big thanks to @morallyinept for helping me with some of the warnings 💗 idk how some of this got in here guys i swear and special thanks to my bestie for calling me a wizard and always screaming with me, love you so much 🕺🏻 not beta'd, have fun 😇

Drifting in and out of sleep just as the sun starts filtering through the curtains, the distant sound of rolling waves and the rich smell of the sea air floats through the window. In the back of your mind, you register the sturdy frame behind you, the arm draped over your waist, the heft pressed against your ass. With the sheet bundled up in your arms and barely covering you, the air in the room is stifling, even with the fan blowing — only you can’t blame the summer temperatures for the heat crawling under your bare skin and settling between your legs.

By the time you wake completely, the arm over you is held tight and the heft against you is hot and hard, poking into you. Your memory comes back to you and that's when you realise — you’ve slept with Joel Miller. You know, dad’s best friend Joel Miller. You’re not sure what good will come from this, but he’s still in your bed the morning after, so that must be a plus — right?

With steady breaths being puffed against your neck, you shift around and slowly grind yourself back into him, your eyes fluttering closed and quiet whimpers falling from your lips. His arm around you tightens even further, pulling you into him and he starts rutting against you, still sound asleep. Reaching between your legs, you drag your fingers through your folds, the inside of your thighs slippery and wet as you rub them together.

You reach behind your back and feel for him. You were rendered speechless seeing the size of him last night, air taken from your lungs at how impossibly full you were and he feels just the same now as you touch him for the first time — a fair gap between your fingers and thumb as you try to wrap your hand around his girth, beads of precome starting to pearl as you brush your thumb over his tip.

Joel keeps mindlessly grinding himself against you as you take a finger to your clit, drawing in tight, steady circles. You push yourself into him more forcefully, soft moans gradually getting louder. You could just finish the job yourself, but why do that when you could have Joel do it instead.

“Joel?” It comes out breathy, your voice still raspy from sleep. He doesn’t respond, and you pull your hand from between your legs to grip his hip behind you. You shake him as best you can, fingers digging into his skin and he murmurs.

“Joel.” Twisting your torso to look at him, you drag your hand up his side to shake him more vigorously — his eyes finally flit open and he grumbles a good morning.

“Need you, Joel.”

“Already got me, ‘m right here.”

He grinds himself into you one more time and pushes your leg up and away from him, revealing your glistening cunt to his eyes. He drags his fingers through you, coating his fingers before taking his cock in his hand, stroking your slick up and down his length.

“Barely woken up and you’re already all needy, huh? S’what happens when you get fucked real good.”

Guiding you with a hand on your hip, he pulls you back to press his cock against you, slipping himself between your folds. He moves your leg back into place, holding himself in the wet heat between your thighs and starts thrusting, the fat head of him just catching on your entrance but never pushing in. You gasp and clench around nothing, feeling painfully empty.

“You’re gonna come just like this.”

“Joel-“ 

“Don’t wanna hear any complaints. You be good and come for me like this, then maybe I’ll give you what you want and fuck you nice ‘n hard later. Understand?”

You whine back at him, eyes falling closed and he snakes a hand around you, holding two fingers on your clit and he stops moving.

“Understand?”

“Yes, yes I understand.” You nod frantically and he resumes his movements, fingers swirling round and round, cock dragging against you.

Just before you start unravelling, a loud knock sounds from your door and Joel slows his hips to an agonising pace.

“Hey kiddo, you up?” Your dad’s voice is muffled and you see the door handle start to turn.

“DON’T-“ You’re shouting back at him before you can even think. “I’m getting dressed, Dad! I’m, uh… I’m up.”

You pray your voice comes across more steady through the door than it sounded to your own ears. It was bad enough that you were nearly caught palming the bulge in Joel’s shorts the night before, but this…

The handle snaps back up and you glance around with a sigh of relief, really taking the two of you in for the first time this morning: bodies moulded to one another, damp and sticky with sweat, Joel’s throbbing cock sliding along your cunt, fingers pressed firmly into your clit, your thighs a mess of precome and slick that’s been dripping out of you since before you even woke up.

Tightening your jaw and breathing hard through your nose, you knock your head back into Joel’s to hold back a moan as you clench down again.

“Your mom and I are heading out, you wanna come?”

Joel actually snorts at that and you whip your head around to glare at him, his eyes dark and a sly smirk on his face.

“Um, no, thanks. I’ll stay here.”

“Okay, see you later. Looks like Joel must’ve headed out for a walk, will you let him know we’ve gone when you see him?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Alright, you have fun.”

His footsteps fade off, the front door closing with a click and Joel takes your jaw in his hand, pulling you to look at him. You can smell yourself on his fingers, and feel him leaving cold, wet fingerprints on your cheeks.

“You having fun?” Joel punches forward more forcefully this time, the tip of his cock knocking into your clit. Your mouth falls open at the feeling, nodding your head as best you can.

“Asked you a question,” he whispers to you, squeezing his fingers into you.

“Yes, Joel.” You smile elatedly and he huffs a laugh at you.

“You wanna come for me?”

“Oh, please, yes please.”

Letting go of your jaw, he presses his fingers into your clit again, gliding between your folds at a steady pace. What was sea air has been replaced with the smell of Joel and sex, his thick fingers and heavy cock and deep, gravelly voice are hurtling you to your end in record time.

“Never felt a pussy as drenched as this one. Bet I could slip right in her like it’s nothing.”

You’re still twisted around to watch him, and he pulls back to watch where he disappears into you, over and over again.

“Feels like heaven, baby. Looks like it too, fuck me.”

He snaps his hips into you repeatedly, taking your hand in his and replacing his fingers on your clit with your own, flicking them over the swollen bud.

“Come on sweetheart. Soon as you come I’m going right with you.”

And you do — thighs tightening around him and hips jerking, a high-pitched whine coming from the back of your throat. He holds your hand in place and comes after a few more thrusts, spilling into the tight space between your legs. You feel it pool between your folds, seeping down your thighs and he forces your fingers apart, coating your hand in his spend.

Lifting your hand to your face, he shoves both your own and his fingers into your mouth.

“I got to taste you, now you get to taste me.”

If you weren’t still trembling with aftershocks you might’ve come again from the sheer depravity of it all.

Joel pulls his hand from your mouth and turns you to face him, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy exchange of tongues and spit and his come.

“You okay?” Breaking away from you, he tugs the sheet up to wipe your mouth, followed by his own.

“Am I okay? Jesus, Joel.” You laugh and burrow your face into the pillow, completely fucked out and you haven’t even had breakfast.

He cradles the back of your head, planting a gentle kiss on your temple and you can feel him smiling into you.

“Go shower, we’re heading for the beach today, remember? Plus, your dad said to have fun, and I’m gonna make sure you do.”

He traces a hand down your body, pushing himself off the bed and stretching with a groan. You could easily drift off to sleep again, but spending the day alone with Joel, free from your parents? That’s better than any dream you could have.

-

Joel can’t remember the last time he had a break like this — summer sun, bottomless drinks, the serenity of the sea. It’s off-season and the beach isn’t too crowded. Lounging back in his fold-out chair, he watches — a father and son excavating trenches and building up sandy defence walls, a little girl carving patterns with the end of her spade, an elderly couple strolling hand in hand just where the water breaks, seagulls nip at each other over old sandwich crusts, and a handful of surfers are far out in the waves.

With the sea ahead of him and the mountains behind, he could easily get used to this: friendly faces, quiet chatter, and hearty laughter all around; peace and stillness as far as the eye can see — and then there’s you.

You haven’t sat down for longer than five minutes the whole time. Zig-zagging along where the water washes over your feet, you crouch down every few steps to dig around in the sand, collecting an array of shells, pebbles, and glass smoothed by the everlasting waves. You’ve already been back twice to empty your shorts pockets, only to venture out again to continue your search. Every so often you look back at him to flash a smile, hand in the sky to shield yourself from the sun.

On your third trip back to unload your findings you stand, hands on your hips to inspect your haul.

“What you gonna do with all this?” He asks as you finish scattering everything out on your towel.

“Dunno, I just like picking them up.” You take a pebble in hand, smoothing your fingers over its surface.

“And how you gettin’ it all home?”

You lift your head to look at him, perching your sunglasses on your head and squinting in the sun.

“Don’t your shorts have pockets too?” You grin and he shakes his head, turning his attention to his unopened book.

“You brought a book?” Your voice is laced with disbelief, and he draws his eyes back to you again.

“Didn’t come here just to drool over you all day, believe it or not.”

“I’m sure you could multitask. Come on, you’re seriously not gonna swim or anything?”

“And who’s gonna guard these ancient artifacts of yours? I’m sure there’s some real rare finds here, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrows as he leans over to look at everything.

“‘Ancient artifacts’ my ass, it’s a heap of fucking rocks and glass Joel, come on.” You hold your hand out in waiting, scoffing when he doesn’t move to get up.

“Fine, if you’re not gonna come with me then at least put more sunscreen on my back.” You pull your shorts down, rounding the towel to stop before him.

As he starts to stand up, you drop down to your knees, eyes locked on his and a cheeky grin spreads across your face as you sink into the sand, head levelled perfectly with his crotch. You lean to the side, a hand planted on his covered thigh to steady yourself while you rummage through your bags, and all moral thoughts flee his mind.

“You’re real trouble, sweetheart.” You ignore his comment and stand, handing him the bottle and turning your back to him.

He starts below the nape of your neck and you jerk forward, muscles in your back tensing briefly from the stark cold sensation. Palms massaging between your shoulder blades, you soon relax and lean into his touch and he lifts each strap of your bikini top, letting them snap back against your skin once the area is covered.

Moving further down your back, he pushes his hands under the band of your bikini top, curling them around your body until his fingers brush against the supple skin of the sides of your breasts, your breath catching just so.

Leaning in close behind you, he lowers his voice right into your ear, “You just wanted my hands on you.”

He smirks to himself and withdraws his hands, dragging his palms down your sides and sneaking his fingers under your waistband, squeezing your soft, unsunned skin. Part of him wishes you were somewhere secluded, where he could just take them right off, but working you up and fogging your mind is far more rewarding.

Glancing around, the few other people on the beach are well occupied — he grips your hip with one hand and twists the other around to your front, dipping down to cup you entirely.

“Joel…” You say in warning, but he knows it’s an empty threat.

“What, you can tease me but I can’t do the same? Seems a little unfair, sweetheart.”

He applies pressure on your clit with the heel of his palm and you try angling your hips, chasing any relief you can find. Curling his fingers into your heat, he confirms his suspicions. 

“Thought this morning you were just bein’ needy, but this pussy’s always drooling for me, isn’t she?”

You whine at that, already sounding desperate and you push your head back against his chest.

“Please, Joel.”

“Please what? What you want, baby?”

“Want you.”

“Wrong answer.” He keeps his hand steady between your legs, fingers just prodding at your entrance and you try to press your thighs together. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…” Your voice trails off to near silence before you can get the words out, and you turn your head to the side, trying to burrow yourself into him.

“Don’t waste my time, sweetheart. Either tell me, or you’re gettin’ nothing at all.”

“Want your fingers. Please Joel, wanna come on your fingers.”

“Good girl, that wasn't so hard.”

Finally pushing two fingers into you, you’re already pulsing around him. Your mouth hangs open, a strained moan slipping out.

“Only doing this if you keep quiet, or this whole beach is gonna know I’m knuckle deep in this tight cunt.”

You whine again but close your mouth and nod. It seems you really are trying your best to be good — either that or you’re so desperate you’ll do anything. Joel keeps watch of your surroundings, knowing you won’t keep your eyes open — or stay alert — long enough to do it yourself.

Pumping his fingers in and out, in and out, you’re sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, hands gripping his arms to keep yourself upright, small whimpers sounding from the back of your throat. He can feel how close you are, walls fluttering around him, but you’re tense, maybe unable to let go in fear of being caught.

He’s a fast learner, though, and already knows that his words alone are enough to give you that final push.

“Nobody’s gonna see you, sweetheart, been keepin’ watch the whole time. You been such a good girl for me, keepin’ so quiet.”

You clench around him more forcefully — he knows he’s heading in the right direction and curls his fingers into you, pressing that same delicious spot he found so easily the night before.

“That feel good? Know my fingers are so much bigger than your own. Bet it’s not as nice as my cock, though, huh? Had you completely stretched out, took me so well.”

Your chest is heaving as you hold yourself back, thighs trembling and he knows you’re impossibly close.

“You’ve been so good for me, ‘m gonna fill you up again tonight — I’m gonna fuck ya nice ‘n hard, just like I promised. You can be as loud as you want, wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make.”

That does it. Nails digging into his skin, you cross your knees and squeeze your thighs tightly, face screwed up as you come around him and soak your bottoms. He keeps whispering praises to you, pulling his sticky fingers from you when you still and lean your weight against him. Wrapping his arms around you, he holds you upright until you’re ready to stand by yourself.

When he notices you’re sound of mind again, he turns you in his arms, hands resting on your waist.

“How ‘bout that swim you wanted?”

You huff through your nose, a small smile on your face as you throw your head forward, knocking into his chest. He bends his knees as he tightens his grip on you, lifting you up and practically throwing you over his shoulder. You shriek with laughter, your fists landing in playful punches on his back and feet kicking in the air as he marches towards the water.

Placing you down on your feet again, he doesn’t give you time to scold him and seals his mouth to yours, one hand pulling you into him by the small of your back, the other cradling your cheek. For the first time, he notices how the softness of your skin elsewhere carries over into your lips, and you hang your arms over his shoulders, fingers threading gently through his curls. Considering all the time he’s spent with you has been frankly pornographic, this kiss in contrast is surprisingly pure.

Pulling back from you, your eyes are warm as you stare up at him. Taking a hand in his, he laces your fingers together and starts walking, pulling you into the gentle waves.

-

After your… escapades on the beach, you and Joel spent the afternoon winding your way through town — perusing all the tucked-away shops filled with antiques and random nick-nacks, stopping for ice cream, Joel taking your photo for you to send to friends. You insisted on taking one of him too, promising you’d be the only one to see it.

He’s been casually handsy since you left the beach — crossing the street hand in hand, guiding you by the small of your back, that same hand drifting down to rest on your backside.

A few repulsed glances were shot in your direction whenever he had his hands on you for too long, and rather than back off, he only made it more obvious — pulling your body into his, his hands groping the nearest stretch of skin, a kiss lasting far too long to be publicly decent. With a constant smirk on his face, you reckon he was rather proud of himself for getting you flustered and pissing off the townsfolk even further.

It’s almost disconcerting how easy things are. You’re not used to feeling so laid back, not worrying about making a fool of yourself, not caring about the looks you’ve been getting. 

You’re making your way down a quiet side street when Joel’s phone rings from his pocket.

“Hello?”

He shifts his weight to one leg, a hand on his hip with his lax knee popping out to the side.

“Yeah, we’re just walking through town.” He looks at you, mischief in his eyes as the corner of his mouth lifts in a skew smile.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. We’ll see you soon.”

Joel says his goodbyes, dropping his phone back into his pocket. Taking his place by your side again, he drapes an arm around your shoulders as you resume your journey.

“So?” You look up at him, face framed beautifully by the late afternoon sun — skin glowing, curls tousled by the salty air, eyes crinkling at the corners as he turns to look down at you.

“Was your dad — he just wanted to know where we were.” His grin only spreads wider as you make your way down the street. “He told me I didn’t have to do all this, that you’re a big girl who doesn’t need to be taken care of. Said I should take some time for myself, relax a little.”

You realise then that, much to your annoyance, your dad does have a point — Joel hasn’t relaxed at all, he’s spent almost every hour together with you. Not to mention he’s barely seen your dad, the man who invited him to begin with.

“Oh… I mean, he is right. I’m sure you came here for a nice break, and you haven’t actually had a moment on your own.”

“Sweetheart, this is the most relaxed I’ve been in years, thanks to you.” He plants a kiss to the top of your head and you feel warm at his words.

“I just thought it’s funny what your old man said about you — that’s the one thing you do need, right baby? Just need someone to take care of ya.”

You’re scared to admit it, but Joel really has taken care of you — in more ways than one. You decide not to fret about what’ll happen after this weekend — you can still enjoy the rest of your time here and whatever Joel has in store for after dark.

-

Upon arriving home, your dad had asked what you and Joel got up to — Joel stayed tight-lipped and you managed to keep your voice level as you recounted the day’s happenings, minus the obscenities. Your dad mentioned that he and your mom had also gone into town, curious that they didn’t bump into you — you’d brushed it off as just missing each other, and thank God for that.

With all the concerned looks you’d received throughout the afternoon, it never crossed your mind that they could’ve come from your own parents, too. You’ve had two close calls now and your luck is bound to run out at some point. You cringe at the thought of your dad finding out about this whole situation — his best friend sleeping with his daughter, his daughter sleeping with his best friend. You’re not sure which version would horrify him more.

You gave him a tight smile in an attempt to cut the conversation short, walking off to your room to avoid further interrogation.

You’d been looking forward to dinner though, but when Joel approached the table, he sat down across from you, leaving your mom to take up the chair next to you. You’d twitched your eyebrows in questioning, but all he gave you was a slight nod of his head.

You thought back to last night — with Joel sitting beside you, you’d tested him and in return, he fucked you better than anyone before. You were keen on trying to push him again, but the added obstacle of the extra distance tonight would’ve made it far more risky.

Throughout dinner he made sure your parents' glasses were never empty, sending you a wink and a slanted smile with each pour as they became more and more carefree, his free hand caressing your back every time he rounded the table.

You’re not usually one to back down from a challenge, especially now that Joel is involved, but you suspected you wouldn’t need to tease him anymore to get what you wanted.

With dinner over and your parents having blissfully stumbled to their room, you now find yourself pinned against the countertop with Joel mouthing kisses along your neck. You’d told your parents you would handle the dishes, but you doubt you’ll even get a start on that.

“Y’know, I’m surprised you didn’t try anything funny under the table tonight.” Joel’s hands roam all over you as he nuzzles up against your jaw.

“I thought about it, but someone made it rather difficult.”

“Yeah well, you were enough of a brat last night, ‘bout time you started behaving.”

“Seemed to me you rather liked it.”

You’re smiling to yourself when you feel his hand smack down on your ass and you yelp, your dress barely doing anything to soften the blow.

“Seems to me that you quite like bein’ punished. Now, I do enjoy puttin’ you in your place, but it’s nice when you’re a good girl and I can reward you instead. You’re all dressed up too, you put on this pretty dress for me?”

Gripping the counter’s edge, you drop your head as he lifts your dress around your waist and holds it against your back. He pushes himself into you until you’re flush with the cool granite top, held down underneath him. He smacks down again and you’ve already soaked through your panties.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, you should know this by now. Been good all night, don’t start actin’ up now.”

“Yes…” You’re met with silence, Joel unmoving on top of you — that wasn’t a good enough response. “I wore it for you.”

“Looks real nice, pretty dress for my pretty girl.” 

He lifts his chest off of you, pressing a hand between your shoulder blades as he stands. Trailing his hands down your back, he tightens his grip when reaching your hips again, grinding himself into your core. A small gasp falls from your lips and he chuckles as you try pressing your legs together.

He hooks a finger under the gusset of your panties and pulls them to one side, tracing over the lips of your pussy as gently as possible, kneading your ass to spread you open — that and the cool, late-night air coats his finger in a fresh wave of arousal.

“All weepin’ and I’ve barely touched her.”

You’re whining at his words, on the verge of begging him to do something, anything to relieve you. He pulls your panties off completely, dropping them to your ankles and he pulls loose the tie of his shorts.

“Joel?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, turning your head to look at him.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You alright?” He rests a hand on you, thumb drawing soft circles into the swell of your ass, concern in his eyes.

“Are we not, uh… not going to bed?”

His eyes turn almost black as all traces of worry fly out the window, lips parted as he ticks his jaw to the side.

“Had no problem with me finger fuckin’ you on the beach, but now you wanna hide away again? What, you scared your old man’s gonna open his door and see his little girl gettin’ railed within an inch of her life? And by his own best friend, of all people.”

That really shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, even more arousal seeping out of you and trickling down the inside of your thighs. Joel lays his fingers flat and wipes his hand up through you before slapping you hard and leaving a burning, sticky handprint on your ass — you buck your hips back into him, letting out a strangled moan.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

His shorts rustle as he shifts them down his thighs, and he swipes his hand up your cunt a second time, spreading his fingers and coating them in slick. You can hear how he takes hold of his length, the room filled with your heavy breathing and the lewd sounds of Joel stroking himself with his sticky hand.

He just slips into you and grabs you by the upper arms to pull you up into his chest, your back arching. He grunts as he thrusts up into you and bottoms out in one swift motion, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you cry out, Joel taking up all empty space inside of you, your clit aching from lack of attention.

“You remember what I told you? Wanna hear what pretty noises you can make.” Joel pries your hand away, keeping it in his own as he takes hold of your hip, his other hand moving to your shoulder. “And before you argue, your parents ain’t wakin’ up any time soon baby — you saw ‘em heading off.”

He pulls out to his tip devastatingly slowly and knocks back into you, repeating the same rhythm over and over — you can feel every ridge, vein, and inch of him. Your eyes are pinched shut and your brow knitted, a choked moan sounding out from the back of your throat with each movement.

“Still just as tight as last night, even after bein’ stretched so wide.”

“Mmh, Joel…”

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbles into you, lips pressed into your skin.

“Please touch me, please Joel, wanna come.”

“Greedy, are we? Pussy’s stuffed full and she still wants more.” Taking half a step back, he pulls you away from the counter’s edge and removes his hand from your shoulder. “Askin’ so nicely though, really are bein’ such a good girl for me.”

He feels down between your legs and parts his fingers around where he splits you open, wetting them in your creamy slick that coats his cock before reaching around to your front and pressing them into your clit. Your hips jerk as he starts swirling his fingers, still withdrawing slowly and thrusting into you hard — you’re so worked up and sensitive that you’re coming already.

“Ohh, fuck, Joel!” you shout out, clamping down on him, your legs shaking as you struggle to keep yourself standing.

“Good girl, come on now, let it out.” He keeps the same pace in both hand and hips as he works you through it. You whine, face contorted and body writhing in pleasure.

Joe eventually stills inside you as you come down from your high, wrapping his arms around you to hold you against him. 

“You ever felt so good, sweetheart?”

“No.” You shake your head haphazardly, still breathless, but you want to see if you can drive him as crazy as he does you. “Never had a cock as big as yours, Joel. Never been so full.”

You feel him twitch inside of you and you break out into a wide grin.

Hand taking ahold of your shoulder once again and readjusting his grip on your hip, he starts slamming his hips into yours, the force of his movements jolting you forward as unabashed moans start falling from your mouth again.

“Never knew you had such a dirty mouth, baby. Definitely ruined this cunt for anyone else, nobody’s gonna make her come like I can. Stretched her so well that anyone else just ain’t gonna do the job.”

Last night was supposedly a punishment, Joel setting you straight after you’d teased him, but this? This feels like you’re being used, having Joel just take what he wants and God do you love it.

“Please come inside me, Joel ��� wanna be full of your come, want it dripping out of me while I fall asleep.”

It seems like your words work just as well as Joel’s — he pistons into you a handful of times before he erupts, groaning as he empties himself inside of you. He withdraws slightly just to push back in again, working himself even deeper into you, head falling to rest on your back as he folds on top of you.

His hands rub all over your body as he catches his breath, lazy kisses being dotted all over your back and neck. Pulling out of you, Joel grunts and you whimper at the feeling, he crouches down to pull your panties up off the floor, now ruined even further as you feel him start to leak out of you and soak into the already wet cotton.

He turns you to face him, hands cradling your head as he leans to kiss you, the same kind of kiss as earlier on the beach — not driven by lust or need but something real.

“Come on, now let’s go to bed.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[vibelladonna]

❛ 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒶𝑒 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜 𝓍 𝑔𝓃! 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: THIS IS PART TWO! If you haven’t read [ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒 ], make sure you catch up first! Again I'm sooo sorry—I didn’t realize Tumblr had a word count limit, so I definitely went overboard. My bad. (Also, the header? Just for fun—just me being forever haunted by this art.)

Summary—where the tension between you and Geo thickens like venom in the air. What binds you brews slow and sharp, a toxic mix of unspoken truths and something neither of you can name.

It’s fragile. Addictive. And as it sinks deeper, you both know—this isn’t something you can walk away from.

But can you survive what it’s turning into?

Or will it devour you both?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: Again, this is for my dearest mutuals, @mint0hhh artist of the [ header picture ], and @lu-dao-writes who gave me the setting and plot—plus a few add-ons from anons who asked for angst (you know who you are).

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: geo x gn and self insert! reader, angst (like. hella angst. cried while writing it.), slow burn, in vino veritas, mutual pining, enemies and lovers (kinda), first kiss, queerplatonic relationship, aroace rep, mentions of OCD, hyperawareness anxiety, emotional damage, (i really hurt my own damn feelings with this one.)

Every breath you took carried the bitterness of it.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how much you tried to show who you really were, there was always something hidden beneath. Something toxic, something no one ever bothered to understand. 

You were a plant no one cared enough to take care of, a mind no one ever wanted to see, only the surface—the mask you wore to keep yourself intact, the version of you that was palatable, easy to digest.

It wasn’t about your thoughts, your ideas, your emotions—it was about what they could take from you, what they could mold you into. 

The soft, sweet persona they wanted you to be.

The version they could control.

The version they could consume.

You were always a belladonna—a striking, dark berry with soft, inviting green leaves, so beautiful in its deadly way, yet filled with a poison so potent that no one could ever truly consume you.

Too much to handle. Too much to bear.

A dangerous allure, a beautiful venom that no one could take in without choking on the truth of who you really were. And maybe that’s why no one ever truly saw you. They only wanted the delicate bloom, the surface—the easy parts. The parts were simple to look at, and simple to admire.

They never wanted the poison.

The world didn’t want you for your mind. It wanted your beauty, the image of you, soft and harmless. And no one could handle what was really inside—what you really felt.

They wanted what they could touch without being burned. The pieces of you that were easy to handle, easy to mold, the parts that could fit into the illusion they’d built around you.

Because no one could ever truly swallow the poison.

No one could bear the weight of the truth that came with it.

The pain clung to you, heavy and suffocating, a reminder of everything you couldn’t escape—of the poison everyone seemed to see in you. 

You wondered if you’d ever be more than that, more than the mask you wore, more than the pieces of you that people could control, twist into something they could digest. Before you could even retreat into the quiet of your mind, that damn poison of his move.

Your eyes catches Subaru moving closer, his unreadable gaze settling on you. 

There was something in his eyes—a flicker, something fleeting, like guilt, frustration... maybe even fear?

No, no, no—It definitely unsettled you more than it should have. He reached out, his hand, but the moment his fingers came near you, a surge of panic coursed through you, and you stepped back instinctively as if his touch could kill you.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice barely there, trembling with the weight of everything you couldn't say. “Don’t touch me, Subaru…”

But, of course, he didn’t listen.

In a breathless blur, Subaru closed the space between you—his body pressing into yours with a force that felt more like a warning than comfort. He cornered you against the closet wall, his presence overwhelming, his eyes sharp as blades as they bore down on you. 

The tears you’d already let go many times before, finally broke through again, slipping past the mask you'd worn for so long, unraveling everything you’d kept so tightly wound. You stared up at him, your voice lost somewhere between shame and embarrassment, feeling small—so small—beneath the weight of his stare. 

Exposed in every way you hated. 

The words clawed their way up your throat, scraping against the ache in your chest as you beat your fists against him—soft, frantic, useless. He didn’t even flinch. 

“How dare you pull me into this...” you choked out, voice hoarse, each word punching through the silence like shattered glass. “How dare I pull myself into this…?”

You turned your face away, shutting your eyes tight—trying to dam the rising wave inside you. But it didn’t stop. “And yet... you won’t even be in it with me?” Your voice cracked as it dropped lower, almost trembling. “You’re so fucking possessive—but you don’t care. You never even cared how it feels on my end, did you?”

Subaru’s eyes narrowed as your words hit him—sharp, accusing, too full of something he didn’t know how to handle. His brows knit tighter, not in empathy, but in growing discomfort, in the weight of an expectation he’d never invited.

He hadn’t seen it coming. Not like this.

The breakdown—the crash out—was worse than anything he’d ever warned you about. And for a split second, Subaru genuinely thought you’d lost it. Very much unhinged, unpredictable. Maybe even dangerous…? He wouldn't admit it, but yeah, it scared the hell out of him. You looked like you might kill him… And still, he didn’t move.

He just stood there, eerily calm, arms at his sides, expression carved from stone as you unraveled right in front of him. Your voice broke. Your fists hit his chest. And he didn’t flinch. Not once. As if the chaos couldn’t touch him. As if you weren’t even real.

No sympathy. No guilt. No warmth. 

Just that same unreadable stillness he wore like armor.

Then finally, his voice cut through the silence—precise, and cold.

“…I never said I didn’t care.” 

It came out like glass—sharp and brittle as if it scraped against something frozen inside him just to be spoken aloud. His hand reached out—not gently, never gently—and tilted your chin until your eyes met his again. There was no softness there. Just a flicker of restrained emotion, sharp around the edges, as though feeling anything at all was beneath him.

“Not care?” he repeated, his tone suddenly bitter. “Of course I fucking care. And I fucking hate that I do. I don’t even know what the hell it means either. I never wanted this. Any of this.”

Subaru had always kept his distance from things like this. Again, Romance. Sex. Intimacy. They were irrelevant distractions—useless, messy, and stupid. People who chased that sort of connection always ended up weak or dependent. That kind of vulnerability disgusted him. 

And the idea of being part of it? Being someone’s something? 

It made his skin crawl.

“I’m not built for that,” he said flatly, voice lowering, almost like he was confessing something he shouldn’t. “I don’t want it. I’ve never wanted it. Not with anyone.”

There was no apology in his tone—just cold honesty.  

Not cruel, but detached, like he was stating a fact you’d simply failed to see. “I don’t think about people that way. I don’t want anyone like that. Never have. The idea of it—it doesn’t make sense. It’s not worth the time. Not worth the energy. And it’s beneath me.” But there was something else in his voice, buried under the frost. Something like confusion. Or maybe even fear. 

He looked at you then, fully—your tears, your tiredness, your pain—and for a second, it almost cracked through. Almost.

“Why do you care so much?” 

He asked suddenly, and his voice wasn’t sharp this time. It was quieter, rawer. Like he didn’t understand any of this—like he couldn’t fathom why you would put yourself through it.

The question hung there, heavy and quiet.

Why did you care?

Because to him, it was all just poison. 

And he’d never asked for a taste.

You stared at him. For a long, aching moment, the silence stretched so thin it felt like it might snap in half.

Your breathing was still shaky, your hands trembling slightly by your sides now instead of pressed to his chest. You weren’t crying anymore—but that didn’t mean you weren’t hurting. The tears had stopped only because there was nothing left to spill.

You swallowed, hard. 

“Because I see you,” you said finally, voice hoarse but steady.

You glanced down briefly, eyes catching the space separating you both—close, but not close enough. “I know you didn’t ask for this. I know you never wanted anyone getting this close. And you probably hate that I did. That I saw past the version you keep showing the everyone.”

You shook your head slowly, not in regret, but in something quieter. Sadder. “But I care, Subaru. I care because somewhere along the way, without trying, you got to me. Not the cold, calculated guy everyone thinks you are. Not the one who always acts like he’s in control, above like nothing sticks. I’m talking about you. The one who still bleeds, even if you pretend you don’t. The one who freezes up when something actually gets under your skin.”

Your eyes found him again, and your voice lowered, softer now, not pleading—just honest.

“I never wanted anything you couldn’t give. I wasn’t trying to change you, or fix you, or force you into something you’re not. That was never the point.”

You paused for a breath, but it barely helped. 

Everything in you felt tight, coiled, like this confession had been clawing at your ribs for too long.

“I just… couldn’t ignore what’s between us. Like, forget fucking Crowe, like he didn’t convince me shit—I wanted to talk to you on my own. Even if it doesn’t make sense. Even if it’s messy and complicated. I feel it. And I know you do too, whether you admit it or not.” You released a soft sigh, tired, wistful. 

“I’d be lying if I said you didn’t make me feel safe sometimes. And maybe I’m the only person who’s ever gotten under your skin enough to make you feel anything. You try to hide it, but I’ve seen it—how you act around me. You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

Another pause, this one laced with something like resignation. 

Your shoulders dropped just a little.

“I know this isn’t love. Not like people think it should be. That’s not what this is. That’s not who we are.” You took a step back—just one. Just enough to breathe without brushing against his walls, the ones he always keeps up, even now.

“But whatever this is?” You gestured vaguely, helplessly, between your chests. “It’s real. It means something. Even if we never name it. Even if it irritates or scares the hell out of you. We’re both emotional, but we carry it differently. You bury yours. I try to make sense of mine. And somehow, that created something here—between us—that neither of us planned for.”

You hesitated. 

You weren’t sure if your voice cracked or if it just sounded cracked from the inside.

“And maybe you’ll never feel it the way I do. Maybe this will always taste like something bitter to you, something wrong.” You gave a small, bitter laugh—empty, aching.

“Maybe to you, it’s just poison.”

You looked at him then, like you were finally letting something go.

“But even poison has roots.”

Subaru stood there, frozen—your words weighing down on him like they’d been waiting for years to land. His fingers, still wrapped around your wrists, began to loosen. Not because he wanted to let go, but because he didn’t know what the hell else to do.

Because suddenly, nothing made sense. He didn’t get it.

Why you? Why now?

Why here—in a goddamn closet, of all places?

You, with your eyes that didn’t flinch. You, who always said too much and still somehow knew when to stop talking. You, who never looked away from him like the others did.

And now you’d gone and seen him. The version he never let surface. The one buried beneath a thousand deflections and a mask carved so clean he’d started to believe it himself.

He tried to ignore it. Tried to shove it back down like he always did. But your words had already split the surface. The cracks were showing. His armor was rattling loose at the edges, and you—you—weren’t looking away.

That rattled him more than anything else.

His gaze locked on yours, desperate to catch you in a lie. To find some sign that this was just another manipulation, another twisted game. Because that, at least, would be easier. Easier to destroy. Easier to forget.

But you weren’t bluffing.

You stood there, tired and unshaken, not trying to fix him, not trying to win—just being. And that kind of honesty, that kind of quiet truth, scared him in ways he didn’t have names for.

His jaw clenched. His grip faltered.

“…Why do you have to do this?” he muttered, voice barely audible. It wasn’t laced with anger. It was too soft for that. Too lost. Like he was begging you not to pull him further into something he couldn’t control. 

You exhaled a hollow sound that echoed like a laugh stripped of joy. Tired. Real. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t push forward. You just looked at him, like you already knew what he was trying so hard not to feel. His hands dropped from your wrists completely now, hanging at his sides like they didn’t belong to him.

And in that fragile silence, you were still there. Unmoving. Unafraid. 

Just you—the one person who had already called him out, stripped him bare, and still hadn’t walked away.

“Because I wanted to,” you said, quiet—like the answer should’ve been obvious. Your eyes didn’t waver. “You and I… we’re not stupid. We catch on fast, we read people faster. It’s not hard for us to figure out what most others miss.”

our voice dipped lower, steadier now. “And most people? They look at you and see exactly what you want them to. Controlled. Rude. Cold. Untouchable. Like you’re made of stone or something.”

You tilted your head slightly, watching him with a strange sort of calm. “But I’ve been paying attention. Really paying attention. And whether you admit it or not—you’re not as unreachable as you pretend to be.”

Seconds passed.

Heavy silence.

You let out a small breath and shook your head just a little, the barest trace of a smirk tugging at your lips. “Subaru Oogami. Ambitious. Intense. The type of guy who holds his breath until he wins or breaks trying. Always chasing something bigger, something higher—like staying still might kill you.”

"And me?” You shrugged, casual but not careless. “I’m the charming, assertive, overly expressive one, right? Social. Playful. Emotional.” You leaned in a little, tone softening. “But I’m not here to mess with you. I’m not here to fix you either.”

You met his eyes again, unwavering. “I’m here because I see you breaking. Not all at once, not dramatically. But slowly. Quietly. The kind of breaking that no one notices until it’s too late.”

You took a step forward. No drama. Just steady. Just close. 

“I’m not trying to save you, Subaru. I just… I don’t want you to be alone in that silence. That’s all.” You gave a small, sad laugh. “People like us—we don’t scream for help. We just learn to live with the noise in our heads.”

The air between you felt fragile—like if either of you moved too fast, it might all fall apart.

“I’m not asking you to feel the same. I’m not trying to label this, or make it something it’s not.” Your words came softer now like they were just meant for him and no one else. “But whatever this is… it’s real. And I think you feel it too, even if it makes you sick to admit it.”

You exhaled slowly, the weight of your words finally settling. 

“That’s all.” No demands. No strings. No expectations.

You just said it. Because it was the truth.

And maybe, if all he knew was poison—then this was the first drop of something clean. 

Something honest, just to feel.

Outside, just beyond the thrum of bass and drunken laughter, Sol moved through the house like a shadow with purpose. The party noise dulled behind closed doors, leaving only the faint echo of the chaos below as he climbed the stairs—each step quiet, controlled.

His movements were calm on the surface, but just under his skin, something was stirring. That familiar pull in his chest, too stubborn to name and too loud to ignore. He told himself he had it handled. That he had a plan. That this was just another situation to manage.

But his hand flexed at his side.

He hated how unsure he felt.

The hallway was dim, lit only by a soft flicker from motion detected overhead, the scent of cheap cologne and spilled alcohol still clinging to the air. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need to. He knew exactly where he was going.

And if he was being honest—something about this moment felt like it mattered more than it should have.

Find you, pull you aside, lay it all out. Simple.

He’d waited long enough. He’d seen Crowe with you earlier—grinning like an idiot as he tugged you by the wrist toward the staircase. Sol had caught just enough of the conversation to know Crowe had sent you to grab the party games from one of the upstairs rooms. 

Games. Right. He told himself that’s all it was.

You’d probably grabbed the stuff and got distracted. Maybe sat down. Maybe needed a breather from the noise. Maybe you were waiting for him, even. A small smirk tugged at his lips at the thought… then faded as quickly as it came. Because it had been too long.

He hadn’t seen you since. 

And Crowe had come back downstairs alone.

Sol’s brows pinched together, his fingers threading through his hair in frustration. Okay… okay, chill. You’re overthinking again. You always do this. But that silence—it wasn’t normal. Not for this kind of party. 

Not when it came to you.

It started scratching at the back of his mind. That creeping, whispering kind of worry that didn’t speak in words—just pressure. Gnawing, anxious pressure.

So he started looking.

One room at a time. The spare bedroom—empty. The office? Nothing. The upstairs bathroom—just towels and the scent of cheap soap. The balcony? No sign of you. Just wind and a couple discarded solo cups.

His jaw flexed.

Next came the hallway closet. He tugged it open—still nothing. 

His steps picked up. Sharper. Quicker. His heart started to thud in his chest in that uncomfortable, too-loud kind of way. His palms were sweating now, and that usual smirk? Gone. Stripped off like a mask.

Where the hell were you? He tried one last room—completely empty. 

He cursed under his breath, quiet but seething. Then he stopped. Froze. He heard something. 

Not loud—just a faint sound. Voices, maybe? Soft. Muffled. Like someone trying not to be heard. His eyes narrowed as he followed it. His boots were soundless over the rug as he crept toward the end of the hall. 

The closet door. The very last one.

Sol’s steps faltered as he approached it. Every movement was deliberate, but slow—as if his body already knew what he was about to find. His fingers brushed the cold metal of the doorknob, the chill of it sinking into his skin. He didn’t turn it—Not yet. He just held it there, like if he waited long enough, he could will the entire situation away. 

But his instincts screamed at him, urging him forward.

With a subtle tilt of his head, he leaned in, listening.

Your voice. Soft. Strained. Like you were trying to hold something together, but it was slipping through your fingers. Tired. Was that…? His stomach twisted as he heard the exhaustion in your tone. The words weren’t clear, but the weight of them was. 

You were drowning in something you couldn’t say.

Then came the second voice. 

Not Crowe. Not some random, stumbling idiot from the party.

Geo. Fucking Subaru Oogami.

Sol’s breath caught, his body frozen in place, muscles locking up as a wave of disbelief washed over him. His stomach dropped, a feeling of cold emptiness spreading through him, hollowing him out—No way.

Sol didn’t dare blink. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sliver of light between the door and frame. Every inch of his body was screaming at him to turn and walk away. To pretend he didn’t hear anything, didn’t see anything. 

But he stayed. Sol’s shifted his body slightly, pressing the side of his head closer to the narrow gap, the cool air from the closet wafting over his face. 

His breath hitched in his throat as he glimpsed you and him inside. 

Subaru, who had always carried that cold, invincible air, was barely holding himself together. sharp, brooding features. His usual unflinching demeanor cracked at the edges, the sharpness in his eyes dulling into something almost fragile. 

His shoulders hunched forward, like a man on the verge of collapse. His fists were clenched tight at his sides, trembling as if he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

He didn’t speak. Not a word.

But the silence was louder than anything. It was heavy, oppressive—filling the space between you two with more tension than any words could ever create. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence was all-encompassing. 

It told Sol everything.

Subaru was lost. And so were you.

That realization hit harder than any argument. Because at that moment, Sol could see it clearly. Subaru didn’t just look like a man caught in a moment. He looked like someone who had already lost the battle and was too proud to admit it.

The thing that hit Sol the hardest?

You weren’t fighting to get away. 

You were just standing there. And Subaru?

Subaru wasn’t pushing you away. He wasn’t trying to run. He was just... frozen. Struggling to stay grounded in a world that suddenly didn’t make sense anymore.

It was everything Sol feared. And it made him feel small. It made him feel like he wasn’t the one who belonged there. 

What the hell was happening?

You stepped in—just a little. Not because you felt sorry for him, but because you saw things clearly now. 

Subaru wasn’t just being cold for the hell of it. He was worn down, running on fumes. Tired in that soul-deep kind of way. And yeah, maybe those words you dropped hit harder than he’d ever admit. Truth always tastes like poison to the ones who swallow silence for dinner.

You let your eyes stay on him. Really look.

Was he always this pale under bad lighting? Lips parted just slightly, like he was about to say something but couldn't find the words? And those aquamarine eyes—usually so sharp, so damn good at cutting people off before they got too close—now just looked... dazed. 

Not by you. But by the weight of being seen.

He caught it. The look on your face. No pity. No judgment. 

Just… recognition. That unspoken I know what it’s like.

That—more than anything—shook him.

He let out this scoff, low and tired, like the world had finally outed him and you were the last person he expected, “Why do you always do this?” he muttered, his voice rough around the edges. “Look at me like I’m not a fucking mess. Like you get it.”

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to.

You’d already said enough—maybe too much.

Any more honesty and it’d either finish him off or push the whole thing straight into cringe territory. So you just stood there, holding space for someone who didn’t even know how to ask for it.

“Damn it,” he hissed softly, voice fraying. “You're not supposed to understand. You’re not supposed to see me. Not like this.” He took a step forward, close enough that you could feel the slight tremble in his breath, his walls crumbling in quiet pieces. “You look like hell,” he murmured, deflecting—but his voice was soft. “And you still have the audacity to act like you’ve got everything figured out?”

You sighed faintly. “I never said I did.”

That hit him like a punch to the chest. Whiplash, but not from the words—from you. From the way you looked at him like you already knew the parts, he didn’t show anyone. 

Like you’d swallowed the poison and called it by name.

Subaru’s brow twitched, jaw tight, eyes locked on yours. That unreadable expression cracked—just a little. Like he didn’t know whether to flinch or lean in.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t run, didn’t push, didn’t spit venom to make the moment disappear.

He just stepped forward, slow and almost hesitant, like his body moved before his mind caught up. You barely had time to process before he leaned in—close, closer. The space between you shrank until it barely existed at all.

Then—quietly, almost like it startled even him—Subaru kissed you.

There was no warning. No dramatic pause. Just the tiniest shift forward, like gravity pulled him in and he didn’t know how to resist it anymore. His lips pressed to yours, and for a second, time just… paused.

No sparks. No heat. No cliché breathlessness.

Just weight. Heavy, quiet, real.

It wasn’t a kiss meant to ignite anything. It wasn’t desire. It was something else entirely—like he was reaching out with the one thing he did have, even if it didn’t make sense to him. A wordless gesture of, “I heard you.” Of, “I don’t know what this is, but I’m still here.”

He kissed you like he was testing a theory.

Like maybe, just maybe, this didn’t have to hurt. Like maybe everything he’d buried—every dark, rotting thing he never let out—wouldn’t destroy the first person who’d seen it all and didn’t flinch.

And you kissed him back. Softly. Once. Steady. Not because it was romantic, or thrilling, or even something you needed to do. But because it felt like the right response. Like saying, “I get it.” Like keeping the moment still enough for him to breathe in it.

When you pulled back, it wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t cold.

It was just… quiet.

Subaru blinked, the faintest crack in his usual blank armor showing through. He took a half-step back, not like he was retreating—just trying to figure out where the hell he stood now. His voice came out low. Barely there. 

“…Didn’t feel like poison,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, like he was still deciding if that scared him or not.

You just stared at him, wide-eyed, trying to process what the hell just happened. Then nodded slowly. “…Yeah.”

Because deadass yeah—same. You didn’t expect that. Not from him. Not like that. You weren’t even sure if it was a kiss or some weird emotional exorcism wrapped in lip contact. 

But whatever it was—it didn’t kill you. It didn’t kill him. 

And that was... something.

Then—Click.

The door creaked open, sudden and sharp like a gunshot in the silence. Both you and Subaru flinched—not visibly, but in that gut-punch way where your bodies backed away from each other before your minds even caught up. You were both expecting Crowe, maybe Deryl. Someone familiar. Someone stupid enough to laugh and shake their heads and make it a joke.

But it wasn’t them. It was Sol.

And his face—It told a whole damn story in one glance. Your eyes noticed everything quickly—knew it. Shock, plain and raw, like he’d walked in on something he wasn’t supposed to see. Nah—he definitely saw the Hurt, carved right into the way his mouth parted like he couldn’t breathe for a second. Confusion, was visible in the flicker of his eyes like he was trying to make sense of what the hell he’d just walked into.

And then—rage.

Simmering. Controlled. Trying hard not to boil over. Trying so damn hard not to let it turn ugly in front of you. But it was there, all of it, coiled tight in his jaw, his clenched hands, his silence that said everything.

You didn’t move. Neither did Subaru.

And Sol just stared at the two of you—his red-orange eyes burning holes in your skin, trying to carve out an explanation that didn’t exist. His gaze flicked from you to Subaru, and for a moment, there was something almost obsessive in it, like he was weighing the truth of what he'd just seen. 

Subaru was always been the problem.

Subaru was always there. Always hanging around, always too composed to be trusted. That calm demeanor, the way he acted like he was untouchable—like he owned everything around him. Those sharp eyes, those casual touches, those little looks he always gave you—Sol saw them all. He finally noticed it all. Every little thing that made Subaru seem just a little too comfortable around you, too close.

The pieces clicked in his mind, sharp and jagged, and the rage burned hotter. Sol’s voice snapped through the tension, low and furious, but with an eerie calm. 

“You… you really think you can just have them?”

His words were a direct challenge. He wasn’t even looking at Subaru now. His eyes were fixed on Geo, a bitter fire lighting up his pupils.

Geo raised an eyebrow, nonchalantly glancing at Sol, but there was a flicker of something deeper there—recognition. He had caught it. The look in Sol’s eyes. 

He wasn’t just pissed. He was dangerous.

“You really think they want you?” Sol spat, his words dripping with venom. “You think you can just play with them like this? Control them? Manipulate them?” His voice rose in volume with every word, an ugly distortion of what used to be affection. "You’ve been poisoning their mind, haven’t you? Telling them lies to turn them against me. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?"

Subaru took a step forward, fists clenched. “Look—“

“I know you’ve been sneaking around behind my back, trying to worm your way into their head,” Sol interrupted, stepping closer, his body tense like a coiled spring. “You think you’re so much better than me, huh? Think you can just take what’s mine?”

In a split second, Sol’s hand shot out, shoving Geo hard in the chest. Geo barely moved, but the force of the shove sent the tension in the room spiraling out of control. 

Everything felt like it was about to snap.

“You’re batshit crazy emo-ass dude, like I always knew,” Subaru muttered, shaking his head. But there was no fear in his voice—only disgust.

And that was all it took.

Sol lunged. His hands shot out, grabbing Geo by the collar and slamming him against the hallway with a violent crash. His grip tightened, nails digging into the fabric, pulling Geo’s face close to his with a snarl. “Don’t you dare act like you’re innocent. I saw the way you looked at them. Saw the way you touched them like you had a right to.”

The two of them were close now, too close—breathing in the same air, teeth gritted against each other.

Subaru didn’t flinch. 

Didn’t give Sol the satisfaction of seeing him scared.

With a growl, Sol shoved him again. This time, Subaru reacted. He swung—hard—hitting Sol square in the jaw with a heavy punch that sent his head snapping to the side.

The pain bloomed like wildfire, but Sol didn’t back down. He felt the blood in his mouth, but it only made him angrier. His vision blurred with fury, the edges of everything distorting as the fight burned through him.

With a roar, Sol tackled Subaru to the ground, fists flying. He was relentless—pounding into Subaru’s chest, his knuckles connecting with skin, the blows harsh and fast. But Subaru didn’t give up. He fought back, flipping them over with a growl, using his legs to pin Sol to the floor. His hands grabbed Sol’s wrists, forcing them down, using all his strength to keep him under control.

But Subaru was wild now. The rage was consuming him, burning everything else from his mind. His body writhed under Subaru’s grip, trying to break free, thrashing to land another punch, to hurt him.

The sounds of the music pounding downstairs seemed, like again, miles away, distant as the world outside continued without knowing the mess unfolding upstairs. 

You couldn’t let this happen. Not here. Not now. This wasn’t the time or place to be tearing each other apart—especially not with the party happening right below you, people oblivious to the mess unfolding up here.

You stepped forward, voice forced out through clenched teeth. “Enough, Sol,” you snapped, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady the rising panic in your chest. “This isn’t the time for this. The party downstairs—someone’s going to hear us!”

But Sol wasn’t listening. 

“You think you’re better than me?” Sol’s voice was barely a growl as he tried to get his legs free, to push Subaru off. “You think you have the right to touch them? To take what’s mine?”

Subaru’s eyes narrowed as he tried to hold Sol down. His breath was coming fast, but there was a clear determination behind his gaze. “You need to get a fucking grip,” he snapped, voice low. 

“They don’t belong to anyone.”

The words—those fucking words—hit Sol like a slap in the face. A crack in the dam. He threw his body forward, slamming his forehead into Subaru’s with a sickening thud, forcing him to stumble back. Blood leaked from his nose, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t stopping.

His rage was deafening, drowning out everything but the need to destroy. He lunged at Subaru again, not caring about anything else. And you acted on instinct, grabbing his arm to stop him, trying to hold him back, but before you could even register what was happening, a sharp, sudden pain exploded across your face.

Sol’s fist hit you square in the jaw.

The shock of it was immediate, but it wasn’t the pain that struck hardest. It was the fact that it was Sol—Sol—the one whom you thought you could trust, who’d been there for you in his own twisted way.

You stumbled back, your cheek stinging with the force of the hit, but before you could catch your breath, Sol was already there, his hand reaching out to you with a panicked, desperate expression.

“Shit—shit, I didn’t—” He quickly stumbled toward you, his voice soft, frantic. “Pumpkin... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

But the words didn’t land. 

You pushed him back with all the force you could muster, sending him stumbling backward until he hit the ground with a dull thud.

The hallway went eerily quiet for a second, the only sound was your ragged breath and the thundering beat of the music from downstairs.

Sol sat there, looking up at you, his breath shaky. He didn’t move. 

Didn’t try to get up.

You stood over Sol, your chest tight with disgust, a slow, suffocating poison filling your veins. Every inch of you wanted to scream, to shout every truth you could at him, but the words felt so small against the weight of what had just unfolded. 

You couldn’t make sense of it. You couldn’t undo the mess.

Subaru moved to take a step forward, but you held up a hand, voice as cold as ice. “Stay back, Subaru. I’ll handle this.”

But even you knew you were barely holding it together.

 The truth was, you didn’t want him to control this any longer. You weren’t going to let him break you and then apologize his way back into your life like it was nothing. You weren’t like that.

With a sharp breath, you began, words laced with finality. 

“I don’t belong to anyone.” You let the silence hang in the air, letting it sit between you like a thick, unspoken truth. “And I sure as hell don’t belong to you.”

Your gaze never wavered from his as you continued, each word deliberate, a cold shard of truth cutting through the tension. “What makes you think you and I could ever work out? I don’t even like you, Sol. Hell, I don’t even like art enough to care about that little thing you latched onto. Yeah, we both like horror stuff, but that's not some magical bond that makes us compatible. Do you think that’s enough? That I’d somehow fall for you because you want it?”

A bitter laugh escaped you, hollow and devoid of warmth. 

“It was never going to happen, never in a million years. I don’t have feelings for you, nonexistent. Like whatever past life you and I had together had to be simply a pity, but even modern terms that have been long gone now.” You saw the flash of confusion in his eyes, the shock written all over his face as your words sunk in, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Sol just stared at you, like he didn’t know what the hell hit him. His mouth opened as if to speak, but the words never came, hanging in the air uselessly.

“You need to understand something, Sol,” you continued, stepping back just slightly, making sure your words hit home. “You’re so desperate for the poison that you think it’ll save you. But I’m not the one to give it to you. We were never meant to be anything—certainly not this. I don’t want you. I never did. And you... you’re just looking for something to destroy yourself with.”

You didn’t care that it hurt. 

You didn’t care that his feelings were crushed.

This wasn’t about him anymore. This was about clearing the air—about making him face the truth, even if it shattered him.

Sol was quiet. Instead, he looked down, fingers twitching like he was about to reach for you again. But his movements were slow, hesitant. He could see it now—could see the shift in you, could feel it in the air between you.

And that was enough to stop him.

For a moment, he just sat there, his eyes not meeting yours, his chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath. “I—I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he muttered, voice strained, unsure. His words were softer now, quieter. “I’m sorry... for everything.”

But the apology didn’t feel real. Not after all of this.

You didn’t even flinch as you looked down at him, your eyes cold, your heart colder. “Don’t apologize. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Sol opened his mouth like he was about to say something, maybe try again, but you weren’t going to let him. 

Not now. Not after everything.

Sol's eyes flickered between you and Subaru, rage still bubbling beneath the surface, only now, it was simmering in a way that suggested he was ready to snap at any second. He was convinced Subaru was the issue—he was the one who had interfered. 

His hands clenched into fists once more, and before anyone could react, he launched himself forward toward Subaru.

But in a blur of motion, a hand shot out, grabbing Sol’s arm and twisting it behind his back with brutal force. Sol's breath was ripped from his lungs in a strangled gasp as he was forced down to the ground, his face contorting in a mix of frustration and pain.

You froze. Subaru froze. 

Neither of you had seen it coming.

“Hyugo?” you called out, a mix of confusion and shock in your voice. That’s right he came with Sol to the Halloween party.

The once-MIA student, the carefree and elusive presence you barely expected to have your back, stood there with Sol’s arm twisted at an impossible angle, his face unreadable. He wasn’t the cheerful, playful version you knew—this was a side of him you hadn’t seen before. 

Cold, decisive, and completely in control.

Subaru’s confusion mirrored yours. His eyes flickered between you and Hyugo, his expression clearly saying the same thing: What is happening right now?

Hyugo didn't respond, his grip tightening on Sol’s arm, pressing him into the ground with unyielding force. For a second, it seemed like the entire hallway was holding its breath, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

"Don’t put your hands on my little brother," Hyugo growled, his voice low, the words carrying the weight of a threat so heavy it could’ve cracked glass. You could feel the tension in the air as his eyes flicked between you and Subaru, before landing back on Sol, pinning him like he was already dead in Hyugo’s eyes.

Hyugo then turned his gaze to Subaru. "Get them out of here," he said, tone cold, like he wasn’t even fazed by the chaos. "I already called the cops. Leave now."

You glanced at Subaru, and fuck, his face was a mess of emotions. 

It was pale as hell, looking like he’d just seen something he couldn’t unsee—disgust, anger, confusion, all mixed up into a look you couldn’t even describe. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. But he didn’t say a word. Just took one last look around, then grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the goddamn chaos.

You both made your way downstairs, and as if on cue, the flashing lights of a police car lit up the night, blinding and warning everyone at the same time. Oh shit. The entire party started scattering like cockroaches, people rushing out the doors, running in every direction, looking for an escape. It was a mess.

Crowe was standing near Deryl, Brittany, and Jess, already looking stressed the fuck out as he scanned the scene. “Who called the police??” he barked, looking around for answers like someone had just committed a crime.

Before anyone could respond, he saw you and Subaru, and his eyes went wide. “Did I miss drama?” he asked, “Wait—how did you get out of the closet..?” but when his gaze landed on your face.

“Hella, broken lock” you replied, your tone flat.

Without waiting for any further questions, you turned and started heading straight for the back door, already feeling the weight of everything press down on you. 

“Sorry Crowe, but we gotta dip,” you called back, barely slowing down. “I’m on scholarship. Party planner out.” You didn’t even glance back as you slipped out into the night, leaving the chaos behind.

You moved through the darkened streets, not looking back, your footsteps quick and steady. The cool night air hit your face, but the adrenaline kept you warm. 

Subaru was right behind you, shouting over the noise of the night, “Hey! Slow the fuck down!” He was still trying to catch up, his voice tight with a mix of concern and annoyance, but you were too far gone in your own head to care.

Before you could even make it to the end of the block, Deryl, Brittany, and Jess appeared, practically sprinting after you. Brittany looked pissed off, her hair falling out of place as she muttered curses under her breath as Jess held on to her. Deryl, for once, was being useful—grabbing Crowe by the arm and dragging him along in a half-assed attempt to keep him from falling apart.

When you all finally arrived at the diner, it was like a collective exhale. The neon lights above the early breakfast spot flickered in the darkness, offering a sharp contrast to the chaos you’d just left behind.

You all shuffled inside, and the scent of greasy food and fresh coffee hit you like a wave. Everyone was wiped out, some still catching their breath. Deryl and Subaru seemed to be the only ones still standing strong, while the rest of you were just... trying not to collapse.

No one said a word as you slid into the corner booth, settling between Crowe and Subaru. Their presence was a solid weight on either side of you—comforting in its own, strange way.

The six of you settled into silence for a second, trying to process what had just gone down. Everyone’s eyes were darting around, unsure of where to start, like it was some sort of unspoken rule to not bring up the mess of the night just yet.

Deryl was the first to break the silence, though his voice was still full of energy like he didn’t just witness a fight that nearly ended in a disaster. “So, who’s planning the next party? Because that shit was hype, even if the cops came. I’m just sayin’,” he grinned like the whole thing was some sick joke.

Brittany, on the other hand, was visibly disappointed, slouching in her seat and poking at her menu. “I was gonna get soooo wasted by the end of the night,” she muttered, glancing out the window like she was mourning the loss of the evening. “But nooo, gotta get the cops involved. Real fucking fun.”

Crowe was sitting there, rubbing his forehead, looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole. “This is why I don’t throw parties in my guest house,” he grumbled, clearly stressed. “What the hell was I thinking? My aunt’s gonna kill me.”

You looked at him, blinking for a moment. “Guest house?” you asked, half in disbelief. “You threw that entire thing in a guest house?” You couldn’t help but sigh under your breath. “That’s rich people’s problems right there.”

Crowe threw you a look, leaning back in his seat like he was trying to disappear into the booth. “Yeah, well, I’m not throwing a party at my real house. Not a chance in hell,” he muttered, sinking deeper into the cushions.

You grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Got damn rich people,” you teased, but your mind was already working. You motioned to the table with a nod. “All right, since our night is fucked, how about you all pick up the tab?”

Crowe’s head snapped toward you, eyes widening. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me,” you said with a smirk, “pay for the bill. I did all the work to make sure it was perfect until the cops showed up. So, unless you wanna keep wasting my time, I’m cashing out.”

Subaru, still processing everything, threw you a confused look, but you were already counting the minutes in your head until this night would be over.

Crowe sighed, finally giving in, rubbing his temples like he weighted the world on his shoulders. “Fine, fine, I’ll pay. You guys are seriously killing me, but yeah, I’ll cover the food,” he muttered, glancing at the menu like he wanted to melt into it. Everyone at the table perked up at his words, though you could tell they were still in a bit of shock from everything that went down earlier.

The waiter moved through the group, taking orders as the quiet hum of conversation settled in. The usual noise that felt uncomfortable you first felt when it came to hanging around this friend group.

However, now?

More like the peaceful weight of a night that had finally caught its breath. The chatter that followed was filled with clumsy attempts to fill the silence, like people fumbling to catch up with the rhythm of a moment they hadn’t quite grasped.

Deryl was as animated as ever, his voice loud and scattered as he rambled about finding a new spot for the next party—praying it wouldn’t end with sirens again.

Brittany, still jittery from the night’s chaos, was looking forward to her drink like it was a lifeline, a simple comfort she could hold onto.

Jess, the usually quiet observer, seemed lost in thought, her hands absentmindedly picking at her food. Her gaze was distant as if the events of the night had nudged something inside her—something she wasn’t sure how to deal with just yet.

It was like that—the way the conversation naturally folded into a silence that no one rushed to fill. Something about the way this group connected felt like solanaceae, that fun, intoxicating beauty wrapped in a delicate skin of thorns.

You could feel it in the way each of them interacted—like this quiet understanding of each other’s complexity, how the rawness of who they were was met with unspoken acceptance.

They were like a vine of nightshade, one that, if you got too close, could prick your skin with its sharp edges, but if you leaned in just right, it would wrap around you, tender yet fierce.

Even though they were different, even though they weren’t perfect, being here, surrounded by this strange blend of warmth and edge, felt like finding a place where you could just exist without the weight of expectations.

They cared—maybe not in ways you could always understand, but in ways that were real. There was a comfort here, but it was the kind you had to lean into, the kind that could hurt, but also heal.

And somehow, it felt safe.

Even in the moments of tension or silence, there was a knowing that this was where you belonged—among the thorns, wrapped in the strange, bittersweet beauty of something real.

And then, as if to stir the pot once again, Crowe dropped the topic that no one had thought to touch.

“So,” he started, his tone more casual than before, but you could tell there was an edge to it, like he was trying not to seem too concerned, “you two…” He nodded toward you and Subaru. “You guys locked in that closet, huh? What the hell happened in there?”

You froze, instantly wishing you could sink into the booth. 

You didn’t want to talk about it.

Not with Crowe, not with anyone. 

Whatever happened in there—it stays between You and Subaru. 

The weird, messy thing that didn’t need explaining. But Crowe wasn’t letting it go, his eyes glancing between you and Subaru like he was trying to piece together the puzzle.

Subaru shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but before you could say anything, Crowe mumbled more to himself than anyone else, “I didn’t mean to put you two through that. But... watching you both not talk to each other? It’s messing with my head.”

The weight of the words hit you, and you could feel Subaru’s eyes on you, waiting for your response. You didn’t want to explain, didn’t want to give Crowe any satisfaction of knowing what had gone down. You shrugged it off, pushing the conversation away as best you could. 

“It’s whatever,” you said quietly. “We’re fine now.”

You didn’t say more because, honestly, you weren’t sure what more to say. The tension was still thick between you and Subaru, but that was something you’d handle on your own. Again, you didn’t need Crowe or anyone else trying to meddle.

Just as the conversation shifted back to the party, you absentmindedly picked up your food, taking a bite, only to have Subaru’s hand shoot out in a flash. His fingers brushed against your face, and you barely had time to react before he wiped something off your cheek with a napkin, his voice low and careful.

“Don’t eat with your mouth full,” Subaru said in that familiar, borderline nagging tone, like he was scolding you but in the softest way possible. He wasn’t angry, just a little too invested in making sure you didn’t look like a mess in front of everyone. 

Then, without missing a second, he placed a napkin neatly on your lap, a subtle, almost unconscious gesture that no one else at the table seemed to miss.

The entire table fell silent for a second. 

You could practically hear the wheels turning in their heads. Everyone was staring, eyes wide, mouths slightly agape. Subaru’s quick, unexpected affection caught them all off guard. It was strange, watching him be so… attentive in his own blunt, rude way. He wasn’t exactly gentle, but there was something undeniably tender about the way he took care of you, even if it was just wiping your face.

It was the little things that made it all so damn confusing.

“Yo,” Deryl finally broke the silence, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “What the hell was that?”

Brittany blinked a couple of times, eyes narrowing. She shifted her gaze between you and Subaru, like she couldn't figure out if she was witnessing something cute or downright creepy. "You two... are weird."

“Are you two together?” Jess asked, her voice cutting through the awkward tension. The whole table went quiet, their eyes immediately flicking between you and Subaru.

You let out a sigh, leaning forward in your seat with a smirk. 

“I don’t know, are we together, Subaru?”

Subaru froze, suddenly stiffening. His eyes darted around, probably realizing for the first time how damn odd everything must've looked. His mind must’ve been racing, trying to come up with an excuse, something that could make sense of all this mess. 

He shouldn't have done that.

Especially in front of everyone. 

He scowled, trying to brush it off, but still couldn’t pull his gaze away from you. “Oh, shut it,” he muttered, scooting away from you slightly as he turned to face the others. His eyes went sharp.

“It’s none of your damn business, you nosy fucking idiots.”

“Bruh, they deadass called you by your first name,” Deryl threw in, clearly trying to rile Subaru up.

Subaru’s eyes darkened at the mention of it, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. He gave a low huff, but his voice had that bite to it.

"Shut your mouth, Deryl."

Crowe was staring too, but his gaze was different. More thoughtful, like he was trying to piece something together. He glanced at you for a split second, then back to Subaru, before letting out a deep sigh. Finally, Crowe couldn’t resist adding his two cents, his voice laced with amusement.

“Looks like someone’s acting soft~”

Subaru’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking under his skin. He wanted to wipe that smug look off Crowe’s face, but he wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Not yet.

You couldn’t help but laugh—soft and genuine. You knew it wasn’t really funny, but the ridiculousness of it all just hit you at that moment. Maybe it was the weird energy between you and Subaru, maybe it was the whole mess with the party... or maybe you just liked the idea of breaking the tension, even if only for a second.

But right when the atmosphere lightened a little, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You glanced down at the screen, seeing Hyugo’s name flashing up. Without missing a second, you excused yourself.

“Hold on a sec,” you said, standing up from the booth. Subaru instantly furrowed his brow, watching you.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice a little too sharp.

Of course, everyone at the table immediately jumped on him, teasing. "Yo, Subaru, you can’t just let her leave like that?" Deryl grinned, leaning forward. "What, no ‘be careful’? No ‘call me later’?"

Brittany and Jess were quick to jump in too, their eyes practically glowing with amusement. "What's up, Subaru? You need to go after her?" Brittany asked, barely suppressing her grin.

Subaru growled low in his throat, clearly irritated. "Shut up, all of you."

You bit back a smile as you glanced at him. 

"Relax, I’ll be back in a minute."

Subaru’s eyes didn’t leave you as you made your way to the back area, heading toward the bathrooms. You could feel their eyes on you even as you stepped away, but you didn’t care. You needed a moment to yourself, a quick breather before dealing with more of whatever was happening at that table.

Once you were safely out of their line of sight, you took a breath and reached into your pocket to pull out your phone. 

You needed a moment to clear your head, to get away from the chaos. Pressing the device to your ear, you stepped deeper into the quiet corner near the bathroom, the noise of the party just barely audible through the walls.

"Hey, Hyugo," you said, lowering your voice, feeling the tension still clinging to you like an unwanted weight.

Hyugo’s voice crackled through the speaker, steady and calm, but you could still hear that subtle edge beneath it. "Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay after all that? Did you and my little brother make it out?"

You closed your eyes, leaning back against the cold wall, letting his voice ground you for a moment. "Yeah, we’re fine. We got away with the others. Things got... little messy, but in a fun way. Our friends are straight up messing with him, and joking about the party."

Hyugo let out a laugh, and you could almost picture the happiness pulling at his lips. "That’s so funny. I bet he’s all red in the face. He flushes easily, you know." His laugh rang through, light and genuine, and you couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

But then his tone shifted, softened. "You know..." he began again, more quietly now, like he was choosing his words carefully. 

"Don’t listen to Sunny, well… Sol. He’s just…" He trailed off, and you could hear the unspoken understanding in his voice. "He’s complicated. You don’t need to let him drag you down into whatever mess he’s dealing with. You’re better than that."

You felt a weight lifting from your chest at his words. The heaviness of everything that had happened—the chaos, the hurtful words, the confusion—seemed to dissipate a little. 

"Okay," you muttered softly. "I’ll try."

You hesitated for a moment, “Where is Sol?”

Hyugo sighed before saying, "We both got out before the cops saw us,” he said. "But don’t worry, I handled him. I made sure." There was a quiet assurance in his words, like he knew exactly how to deal with his younger brother, even if the details were something you weren’t sure you wanted to picture.

His words were comforting, but it was more than that—there was a dangerous edge to them, a possessiveness that spoke of a bond you knew better than to question. Hyugo wasn’t the type to let things slide, especially not when it came to protecting those he cared about. 

You breathed out slowly, glancing down at the phone in your hand. Time was slipping away, and you couldn’t afford to be away from the table for too long.

"Thanks, Hyugo," you said, your voice tinged with sincerity. "I appreciate you looking out for us.”

He laughs softly, clearly hearing the warm of his voice, "Of course," he said, his tone light but full of that familiar teasing warmth.

"I’d be a terrible older brother if I didn’t."

There was a pause, and you could almost hear him considering something, weighing his next words carefully before he spoke again, his voice lower, quieter.

"But as his older brother..." he said slowly, almost thoughtfully. "Just... take care of my little brother for me. And of course, take care of yourself, okay?" His words were soft but firm like he was entrusting you with something important. "I just want you two to have a better life. A peaceful one, if that’s even possible, with… Subaru."

The sincerity in Hyugo’s voice lingered in your mind, a warmth that pushed away some of the tension you’d been holding. Even with everything that had happened, his words gave you a small sense of reassurance.

Maybe, just maybe, things could get better.

Maybe things with Subaru could be… different.

You sigh softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you respond. “I’ll try. We’re perhaps compatible. Like, he’s a handful, you know.”

Hyugo’s laugh came through again, deep and knowing, like he was in on some unspoken joke. "I know, tell me about it... Thank you, and I’m sorry, I’ll see you sometime around,” he added before the call ended.

For a moment, you stood there, the soft hum of your friends in the background, Hyugo’s words hanging in the air. There was something about him, something different when it came to you. And even though you couldn’t quite place it, one thing was clear—Hyugo doesn’t play about his little brother.

And maybe he did it for you….

Nah, that’s a lie because—you frowned your brows—thinking about Hyugo must know of Sol god awful obsession with you, because ain’t no damn way. Maybe that’s why he said he was sorry at the end once he realized that you have a connection with his little brother… hmm.

Anyway—you were about to head back to the table, the sound of footsteps approaching snapped you out of your thoughts. Before you even saw him, you could feel Subaru’s presence. And then his voice—quiet but piercing.

“Is he gone?”

You jumped, the suddenness of it making your heart stumble. Spinning around, you found Subaru standing there, his figure looming over you like an unspoken warning. His gaze was piercing, searching for something, maybe for a crack in your calm exterior.

“Subaru, please don’t do that,” you said, your voice strained as you tried to steady your racing pulse. His unexpected closeness, that tension between you, still hadn’t fully settled, and now he was standing there, making everything feel worse and more complicated.

“Yeah, Hyugo’s gone,” you muttered, trying to make your tone sound as casual as possible. But your voice was flat, betraying the way your chest still felt tight from the earlier conversation. 

You glanced up at him, a wave of curiosity creeping in. 

“You heard everything?”

For a moment, Subaru didn’t answer. His gaze locked onto yours, unreadable—cold, but with something sharp lurking beneath. Something almost… worried? The intensity of it made the air around you crackle with unspoken words. But instead of responding, he shifted slightly, looking away, as though something was clawing at him that he refused to face.

“I didn’t want to sit at the table with them while waiting,” he muttered, his voice edged with irritation, but there was something else there too—a softness, a crack in the armor. 

“Too many idiots messing with me...” He scowled, as though frustrated by his own vulnerability, and you could see it in the way he tried to pull away, afraid of showing too much. But then, almost as an afterthought, his voice softened again, and his eyes flickered toward you, sharper now but tinged with something unspoken.

“But I came to check on you,” he added, and even though his tone was still laced with that cool indifference, you could hear the slight hesitation beneath it. 

Like maybe, just maybe, he was just worried.

“Don’t need to be so dramatic,” you said, almost laughing. “I’m fine.”

Subaru shot you a look, narrowing his eyes at your comment, but then his posture shifted. “Text that short shit I said thanks,” he grumbled, “but don’t—I swear to god, make it over the top or he’ll never leave me alone on campus.”

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a laugh, “Sure,” you muttered, nodding as you looked at him. His expression was still cold, distant—like a layer of frost between you two. 

But his eyes? They told a different story.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of it all, the strange pull between you two. “Anyway,” he said, breaking the silence, his voice cutting through the moment. “Let’s get out of these nasty-ass restrooms. I’ll give you hand sanitizer once we’re back at the table.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Subaru…”

“And you need to drop that art class,” he continued, oblivious to the way you’d called him out. “Start taking your major classes. Plan a better route. Just in case that fucker tries to mess with you.”

“Subaru…” you interrupted again, a little more firmly this time, trying to catch up with his rapid-fire thoughts.

“I’ll start walking with you to your classes since ours aren’t far apart. You can stay with me at my place until we find you somewhere else. I don’t care what my bitch-ass father says. I’ll handle it. That emo-fucker... I don’t trust him. I can’t—”

“Subaru,” you called, cutting him off mid-rant, a touch of annoyance slipping into your voice. “Shit, you're way ahead of my ass.”

He stopped in his tracks, his words trailing off. He blinked, clearly realizing how much he’d blurted out. His face turned slightly reddish pink, his eyes flickering away from yours as he tried to regain his composure. He cleared his throat, muttering under his breath. 

“I know. Sorry,” he mumbled, his tone a little gruff as he avoided eye contact, his usual arrogance faltering just a bit.

You felt a little smile tug at your lips, but it wasn’t out of mockery. More like a realization, something that settled in your chest, warm and heavy. Subaru—despite the tough shell he put up—was starting to show you pieces of the person he used to be.

Or maybe, just maybe, the person he was becoming. 

Perhaps, in that very poison, your truthful words had managed to move him. 

Subaru looked down at you, the faintest laugh escaping his lips, mixed with that little annoyance in your voice. 

The crazy part? 

You were his, and he was yours—something neither of you could quite wrap your heads around. He leaned in slightly, his gaze softer now, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor starting to fade. 

“A Belladonna, you know," Subaru said almost lovingly but annoyed, the words falling between you like a secret just for the two of you.

You blinked at him, momentarily lost in the meaning of it before your eyes softened. The shift was subtle, but it made you appear more alluring than ever. Belladonna?—dangerous, intoxicating, wrapped in mystery and allure.

A poison, sure, but not the kind that burned. 

You were the berry, sweet yet deadly, something Subaru never thought he’d be so drawn to. And yet, here he was, tangled up in the wild, intoxicating forest of campus and your presence.

The kind of danger that didn’t destroy, but wrapped him in its pull, making him crave more. Always more. Subaru was immune to it, somehow, able to take on everything you were without being consumed. And that? That made you even more captivating in ways he couldn't fully explain.

"Didn't think you knew Italian or plants like that," you teased, an amused glint in your eyes.

Subaru sighed, that arrogant confidence of his never fully gone. "One, I speak five languages. Two, I like plants."

You rolled your eyes at his answer, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. “Aw, first you call me a beautiful plant, now you're pulling out the fancy language?” you scoffed, crossing your arms with mock offense. “Weird, but okay.”

Subaru gave you that look—the one that danced on the edge of a challenge and a confession. “It’s belladonna,” he said smoothly, his voice low, rough with sarcasm, “It means deadly nightshade, a poisonous plant. Don’t go twisting my words like I called you ‘beautiful’ or anything. Don’t get cocky, smartass.”

And yet… the way he looked at you as he said it—his eyes sharp and unreadable, lingering a bit too long on your lips, on the curve of your smirk—betrayed him.

His mouth said one thing, but his gaze? That told the truth.

You weren’t just a poison to him.

You were a craving. Addictive.

Dangerous in the kind of way that pulled him closer, even when he knew he shouldn't. Not toxic—no.

Just potent enough to blur the line between warning and invitation.

You caught the look in his eyes—the way they softened for just a second like he'd forgotten to keep the mask on. That wall of his, the one he built so carefully, cracked without a sound. And in that silence, something honest slipped through.

Then he said it again, quieter this time, almost like it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“…My belladonna.”

No smirk. No smug edge. 

Just the weight of his voice brushing against your skin like a whisper no one else could claim.

The words settled into your chest, blooming slow and warm, stealing your breath without asking. He didn’t have to mean it like that—but something about the way he said it made your heart stumble anyway.

Beautiful poison. Deadly nightshade.

But what Subaru didn’t know—what he clearly didn’t realize—was that you knew that belladonna also meant beautiful lady in Italian. And you weren’t about to tell him. Never. Let him pretend he wasn’t sweet. Let him keep thinking he wasn’t calling you beautiful. 

You arched a brow, biting back a grin. 

“Didn’t think you were the poetic type.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffing like it physically pained him. “I’m not. You’re just dramatic. And annoying. And smug as hell.”

But he didn’t deny it. And he didn’t take it back.

Instead, he glanced away with that familiar scowl—half exasperated, half something softer, "You're lucky I even tolerate you," he grumbled, voice low and rough, but you heard it—that warmth sneaking in like it always did when he got too close.

You were his poison, no doubt—but the kind that lingered sweetly on the tongue. Addictive. Secret. Worth every risk.

You tilted your head at him, a slow smirk tugging at your lips.

“Vice versa,” you hummed. “And yet here you are, still choosing to ‘tolerate’ me. Such possessiveness.”

He rolled his eyes hard enough to see the back of his skull.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he shot back, but his mouth betrayed him—edges twitching up, just barely.

You both knew what was happening. 

He wasn’t running. Wasn’t pushing away. He was already caught. Wrapped up in everything you were. Falling—grudgingly, carelessly, completely—into the mystery of you.

His belladonna.

[amell333]

Hey i really like your writing so I wanted to ask if you could maybe write a harry potter fic where it's marauders (serious, Lupin and James) X ravenclaw reader who is like really shy

And they really like her and always flirt with her but she just thinks they are making fun of her or wanna get in her pants just because

And could you maybe make her plus-sized??

Love your work<33

"For someone as smart as you are you sure are slow. Dove." R.L & S.B & J.P

Poly Marauders x plus-sized fem-reader

GIF by avocadosalad2

!!English is not my first languge!!

Summary: The marauders have taken a liking to you since they first laid eyes on you, which was your second year of Hogwarts. They have done nothing to foster these feelings for you. They openly flirt with you and ask you out. Everyone else can see the love they have for you. So why can't you?

Pairing: Poly Marauders (James, Sirius, Remus.) x Plus-sized female Reader

Content Warning: Cheesy flirting (I can't deliver a good pickup line, even if my life depended on it), self-doubt, reader misunderstandings, and a buttload of fluff. a little angst. happy ending. Enjoy:3

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You blinked a few times, your eyes wide with surprise as your mind struggled to comprehend the sight before you.

The striking black-and-white owl, with its feathers ruffled from flight, had just swooped in and dropped on the table in the big hall. Looking around, you weren't the only one surprised to see the bouquet of flowers that had been dropped right in front of you with a little note attached to it.

It was easy to see not only almost every member at the Ravenclaw table you ate at was starring at it but also some people from other houses had stopped eating to get a look at the beautiful flowers.

You looked around trying to figure out who could have sent it, when your eyes landed on the Gryffindor table and you made eye contact with James who gave you a not-so-subtle wink.

You stood up from your seat and took the flowers in your hand mustering up all the confidence you had at the moment before you walked over to the Gryffindor table gently placing the flowers before the 3 boys, their eyes not leaving you for even a moment.

You gave them an annoyed glare. " when are you 3 ever gonna get tired of doing stuff like this?" it wasn't meant as a question because you all knew the answer.

Of course, they wouldn't stop they loved this too much. They knew nothing better them giving you small sometimes expensive gifts. The only exception was they did it because they adored you and everyone knew it, except you, of course. You thought they did it to poke fun at you and embarrass you.

The boys shared a look, one you couldn't tell what exactly meant. Remus's eyes shifted from you to the flowers. " Come on, love. Don't be like that; you secretly like it."

You rolled your eyes as you scoffed. Ugh, you guys are impossible!" And with that, you stomped away.

James placed a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Don't worry, Moony; she'll come around soon."

You were sitting alone out in the courtyard, enjoying your time while reading your favorite book. It was quiet and you didn't know how long you had been sitting there but it was so quiet and so nice, it wasn't cold but it wasn't warm enough to make you uncomfortable either. It was just perfect.

But it didn't last long warm hands were placed over your eyes. You let out a gasp and ended up dropping your book in the cool water of the fountain.

"Merlin! What the bloody hell!" you turned around and it didn't surprise you when you came face to face with James, Sirius, and Remus.

James gave you a lopsided smile "Sorry love didn't mean to make you drop your book. promise I'll pay for a new one I promise." Sirius sat down beside you. His fingertips were so close to yours that they were a second away from touching before you pulled your hand away and stood up.

But before you could leave, without your book, your wrists were grabbed gently. When looking back it was Sirius. "why do you keep running away from us love?"

Your eyes narrowed. Why were you running away? Did he just ask that? the Better question was why do they keep bothering you, tormenting you?

You've heard the way their friends joke about all the way on why they were doing this. Why did they keep playing these cruel jokes on you when you have done nothing to bother them?

"Why do I keep running away? Why do you keep bothering me!? I thought at least one of you would have some brains and decide enough is enough and just finally leave me alone!"

You didn't know where it came from. You don't know why you suddenly lashed out like that or why it hurt you so much to see the surprised look on remus face and the hurt flashing in Sirius eyes. you didn't know why you wanted to reach out to Sirius when he gently let go of your're wrist and just tell him sorry and you didn't mean it.

But you didn't instead you turned around and ignored the way your chest ached. you ran away just like you always did. except this time it was different

The boys hadn't bothered you for 5 whole days and you don't know why but you kinda missed them. They might be annoying and a bit over the top but they made you laugh and you felt alone almost empty without them.

It was raining today, badly raining and the Griffendoors were playing against the Hufflepuffs. Normally you would always go and watch but today it just felt wrong.

instead, you were sitting in the great hall and only a few students were at the castle the rest were watching the game unfold.

You were sitting with some homework but it was long forgotten you couldn't concentrate not when you were thinking about them. Why did you miss them this much?

It didn't last as the doors to the great hall flung open and in ran Lily. Wait, Lily? Why was she running in such a hurry? And why was she running in you're direction?

Out of breath Lily grabbed your hand and pulled you with her. "w-wait Lily what are you doing?! Where are we going?" she completely ignored your questions. But the nest words made you stop.

"It's James. He beat up some guys from the Slytherin stands. He just completely stopped the whole game. Something about them talking about you ok. Just. Just hurry ok"

Lily had barely realized that you had run past her at full speed. But you didn't even think twice. So many things were running through your head at the moment too many. James had done that just because some jerks were talking about you?

God, you were blind. How stupid could you just be? Not only stupid but dense as well. They were not joking or making fun of you. They liked you they liked you and you had talked down their feelings like they didn't mean shit.

God, you felt horrible. You had to find James because if you found him you were sure the other 2 would be right with him.

The moment you stepped outside you were drenched but that didn't stop you from running you knew you would get a cold later but you didn't care that was future you's problem.

Reaching the quidditch field you saw nothing but chaos. And in the middle, a big circle, cheers and shouts could be heard but no word could be made out.

Squeezing through the crowd you saw not only James laying on the muddy ground but also Sirius. Leaving Remus to try and fend them off all by himself.

You don't know what came over you as you ran into the circle and helped pull both Sirius and James to the side and somehow managed to pull them away from the chaos to a more enclosed space.

James calmed down once he saw who was holding him. But Sirius was bashing and pushing to get out of Remus's arms. So you did the only thing you could think of and smashed your soft lips against him split ones.

In an instant, his eyes landed on you and he calmed down his hands gripping your face not wanting to ever let you go as if you would disappear if he did.

When you finally pulled away you saw Remus and James' shocked faces. Sirius who still hadn't let go of you're face, stole your attention back with a gentle kiss placed on your cheek followed by one on your mouth.

Remus chuckled breathlessly. "does this mean you like us back?" you looked at him and then the other 2 and smiled "Yeah. yeah it does"

Remus placed an arm around you. "you know for someone as smart as you. you sure are slow dove. come on let us go inside and talk you're shivering love."

only now did you realize how much your body was shaking and shivering from the brutal cold. "yeah let go" you leaned into his touch as you walked together each of you huddling as close together as possible.

3 days leter.

The boys had put you on bed rest as you'd gotten sick from the cold rain 3 days earlier. And for 2 days you had been put on bed rest by the boys and only ever gotten up to pee to take a shower. Even you're meals were eaten in bed with them by your side.

Remus was sleeping in the comfy chair on the other side of the room and James and Sirius were somewhere in the castle getting something to eat for you. You had promised to stay in bed but you had to get up and walk around a little just a little they wouldn't even notice.

Or so you thought because the moment you had stood up the door opened and in walked James and Sirius. "hey! hey! what are you doing out of bed, you are suposed to be in bed missy."

"What I was just uh going out to pee" Sirius looked at you. "with shoes on yeah right." "my feet were cold ok I was just going to the bathroom." a groggy tired voice sounded from the other side of the room. "no she wasn't she was getting up to walk."

"Remus!? I thought you were sleeping!" James walked in with Sirius trailing behind him. "doesn't matter love get back in bed or I'll have Sirius weigh you down."

"you guys are so mean to me you know. so mean." you lay down on the bed. "yeah but you love us anyway"

you smiled and looked at them. "Yeah I do."

-------------------------------------------------

this was my first time writhing a fanfic to an ask i hope it was ok and enjoy!

good night/day/afternoon. hope you had a good reading!:))))

[7squidgy7]

✧.*200 follower celebration type thing*.✧

previous drawing in others style

So a while ago I hit and 200 followers and I wanted to do a celebration of this milestone, by doing fanart for different cotl artist.

Most people probably already know these artists, but if you don't consider giving them all a look, they all do really cool stuff.

Close up plus some explanations on what inspired me below (don't have to read just wanna put it out there):

@runningwithscizzorz

You have such a cool art style and your wonderlust au is so interesting to me. Its a really cool concept.

You have some of the coolest and most recognizable designs for these two.

There was no particular post that inpired me for the pose I just used this character sheet as my reference.

The background however is based of your banner art (I need to re-watch spirited away)

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@nufflesdoodles

Your comics are so cute plus your styles so round and cuddly.

I really like the way you draw the lamb in particular, their wool's so shape and I love the pattern on the cloak.

So the inspiration for this was a variety of things. Your comic of Narinder fishing with Aym and Baal plus the drawing of Lamb and Narinder fishing. So i decided to draw them fishing together.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@bogor-o

I really like the mother au, these two are so interesting to me and the shittens are so cute. I love Ovidia's design, its a very unique and recognisable one. I especially like the dress they wear, the patterning was really fun to draw.

This was originally suppost to look more evil, but i decided to keep it fluffy. I combined this drawing of Ovidia being evil with Narinder and the second pic of this post of them being all lovey.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@shrimpsketchy

I got the designs so wrong. I miss interpreted the reference and by the time I realised it was too late, sorry about that. The lamb's just lending their coat to Narinder for the day :')

Aside for that I really like the concept of a pirate au. Your designs are really cool and have a really nice silhouette. My friend who I was sending progress pics really liked your pirate au.

So for the drawing i used your valentines day art as my inspiration and wanted to draw the lamb balancing on the mast.

I also got some of the clothes' colours from the dtiys

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@mary-cross

I love your art, not really sure how to put it into words, but like the eye shapes and the sketchiness. I really like it. This was a fun one to draw especially Dulciter's hair

After seeing the femme Dulciter designs I knew that was the version of them I wanted to draw. The animatic of Dulciter and Narinder hugging is so cute, that was the inspiration for the colour pallet and pose.

The stars in the eyes, background and the blue spots was inspired by this comic. I love the choice to use stars in the eyes.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@bamsara

Trod was the thing that really got me into cotl and has inspired a now year long art obsession with the game.

I really like your art, especially the comics. I love how expressive everyone is. Lambert and Narinder's characterisations are some of my favourite.

Anyway this piece is using the colour pallete of the devil whispering in the ear art and is based around the heart chain thing that frequently appears in the au's art.

Lambert probably tripped over and Narinder caught them. I've drawn Narinder as aware of the connection, while lamberts confused/ concerned and a little flustered that he's just staring at them. Why's his face split open? I just think it looks neat.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

[diyasgarden]

Request

Patrick being down bad for his girlfriend and everyone knows it. She is oblivious to it.

Hiii!! I had so many ideas for this, that I decided to compile into one big headcanon list. If you ever want me to write something based on this, let me know.

Patrick and you are in what you view as a casual relationship. Maybe you were friends before this or if you randomly met at a party or some event, but you know his reputation so you just assume that whatever is going isn't serious for him. You're still having fun, so you don't really bring it up. There is a small part of you that wants to know, but you don't want to ruin whatever is going on. Plus, ignorance is bliss.

On the other hand, Patrick just loves being around you so much. He hasn't even processed it properly. Something about you is just so endearing to him (that even if he isn't aware of how much he likes you) it is obvious to everyone around. He isn't great with saying all of this (which is probably why you don't catch on), but his behavior blatantly exposes how he feels.

He constantly wants to spend time with you. When you guys start your relationship, you're both glued to each other's side. Constantly going on. Him constantly at your place. A lot of time in bed...yeah literally glued to each other. You think it's sweet, but don't think too much about it.

He also just loves holding you. His hand is always on you in some capacity or another all the time. In private. In public. He's holding your hand or holding your hip or even pulling you into your lap. You also don't think much about this. Even when your friends raise their eyebrows and look at you with a grin, you just shrug it off. You've seen how he has no sense of boundaries with people he is close with. This is just another example of that, you reason.

But as you both continue to see each other, it becomes more and more clear that he wants you to be a genuine part of his life. This means he invites you to his games. You don't think much of it. He is tennis player. Of course he is going to invite you to a game or two. You tell your friends this, but it becomes a little harder to explain when he asks if you want to stop by when he practices too. He loves seeing you by the court when he plays, regardless if its an actual game or just a practice. He's smiling at you, waving at you, even winking. To everyone else, it's him obviously showing whatever is going on between the both of you, you just assume it's him being the unserious person he is.

On top of that, he also genuinely wants to be a part of your life. In every way that counts. This means that anytime you invite him to something, he is 100% coming. That new restaurant you want to try? He's booking a table already. A friend's party? He'll be asking if you want him to bring anything. A boring family gathering you don't even want to go too? It's okay, he'll make it fun for you. Anytime you tell your friends your plans with him, they find it adorable how he's willing to do all of this for you. You brush them off, saying he just wants to keep you company.

He also takes an initiative to actually connect with the other people in your life too. Even if his only interest in them is the fact that they're connected to you some way. Your friends indulge him because they think its endearing how much he's trying. You assume he is talking so much because he is so extroverted (but you miss how he frowns a little bit when you only introduce him as Patrick).

Not to mention, your interests suddenly become his interests too. You like art? He's on the Wikipedia page of every artist you like trying to find out as much as possible. You like reading? He bought your favorite books to check them out. You like a certain sport? Now he knows all the rules now. Film nerd? He's watching any movie you've mentioned.

He likes to discuss these things or even join conversations you have with your friends about it. You think it's a sweet gesture and tell yourself he just wants to be able to make conversation or jump into conversations you're having with others. All the people around you know he just wants to show you that he cares what you care about. Especially because he keeps looking at you during these conversations, as if tracking your reaction to every word he says.

You only realize how down bad he is couple months into the relationship when he asks you to come to some event his parents are hosting. It's a first for both of you. He doesn't like going to these events, avoids them when he can. But when his parents insisted on coming to this one, all he wants is to invite you to come with him. He's never done this before, with anyone. You say yes, at first thinking he's just doing so because you invite him to so many things, but when he introduces you as his girlfriend with this goofy ass grin it fully sinks in how much he likes you. It's silly that after everything he does, this is the thing that made you have a eureka moment, but hey, at least you figured it out eventually.

[gloomweed]

Eddie Loved Valentine's Day (eddie munson x bestfriend!reader)

a/n: I got the idea for this story last valentine's day, but I didn't finish it until today and I'm still not quite satisfied with it but I had to just get this out there already. This fic is more angsty than romantic, but it didn't feel right trying to shoehorn in some romance, so this is just how it's going to be.

summary: Eddie deals with some bad childhood memories on a valentine's day he spends with you.

w/c: 3.7k

Eddie loved Valentine’s day. Loved, as in, he used to. Specifically, when he was still in elementary school. Back then, the class would spend the whole day creating little mailboxes to hold all their cards. Decorating the recycled shoebox with stickers and markers, writing his name in big scrawling letters over the top. His mom would help him the night before, preparing the cards he was going to hand out. She would tell him how to spell each name, going one letter at a time. When she would ask if he needed help spelling his name, Eddie would hold out his little hand saying very confidently, “No, I know how.” Her voice was always gentle when reminding him ‘Eddie’ has a second ‘D’ after the first one.

Although there was little variety in the pack his mom bought from the store, Eddie made an effort to pick the card he thinks the recipient would like best. A Garfield card for Sindy, since she is always borrowing his orange marker. It’s her favorite color. An Odie card for Josh, since he spends recess digging with sticks and rocks. Something about wanting to find dinosaur bones. It would go like that until all the cards were signed, folded, and held together with little heart stickers.

The following day, Eddie would pass out all his cards and return to his seat to find his makeshift mailbox stuffed. In those days, he would get a card from every single classmate. He’d be filled with excitement as he opened each one. The puns and characters on the cards were fun to see, but really Eddie just enjoyed the thought that someone made him something. Some cards even came with a little candy. It was a fun day all around, and doing less school work was also a big plus.

After his mom passed, Valentine’s day kind of lost its charm. His dad said buying Valentine’s cards that kids were only gonna look at once and throw away afterwards was a waste of money and effort; however, that didn’t stop Eddie from participating anyways. He spent the night making his own cards out of notebook paper, drawing hearts and smiling faces on each one. Despite all the care he put into them, the finished product looked pretty messy. The cards weren’t all the same size, there were some misspelled words, marker ink bleeding through the paper, and since he didn’t have stickers, they were held together with regular translucent tape. Give him a break, he was nine. It wasn’t much, but Eddie put his heart and soul into it.

Once all the cards were passed out, everyone began digging into their boxes, reading cards and opening candy. “What even is this?” Eddie looked up from his pile of valentines to see one of his classmates holding up one he homemade, a disgusted look on their face. Another kid laughed. “Why does it look like that?” Eddie felt red, hot shame fill his cheeks as others began to join in the laughter. He sank further into his seat, wishing to disappear completely. Seeing Eddie’s name on the card gave the boy a target. “What’s the deal, Eddie? Couldn’t afford real valentine’s this year?” 

Eddie shot up from his seat. “No! My dad just forgot to buy them, is all,” he lied. “I just thought, you know, something is better than nothing, right?” His eyes darted between his classmates, hoping they bought it. 

“Next time, don’t even bother. It’d save us the time of throwing them away,” they laughed. It was then that the teacher made the announcement to return to their seats to resume the rest of the learning day. As Eddie sat back down he could feel the sting of tears behind his eyes. He put a lot of effort into those cards, only for his classmates to laugh at him and throw them away. His dad was right. What a waste.

That was the last time Eddie ever participated in Valentine’s day. Ever since then, he would spend the day doing anything else besides celebrating it. This year, he was at your house helping you get a head start on spring cleaning. You wanted to turn your life around, starting with a more organized living space. February 14th is as good a day as any to get started, and it wasn’t like you had any big plans. Which is totally fine and doesn’t depress you at all. 

Although he never told you exactly why, you knew Eddie didn’t particularly like the Hallmark holiday. You assumed it was because of how commercialized it had become since its inception. Of course it could be the matter of keeping up with his image. Soft petalled roses and candy hearts are pretty far from ‘metal.’ Whatever the reason may be, you hated the idea of your friend being alone on a day celebrating love, so inviting him to clean was the next best thing. While it took some convincing, eventually you coaxed him into it with the promise of beer and snacks.

You were both currently working in your bedroom. Eddie would hold something up and ask if you wanted to keep it or throw it away. Meanwhile, you sit on the hardwood floor creating piles all around you as you sift through the contents of your room. He did most of his work while sitting on your bed, a beer in his hand. 

Sometimes he would try on clothes you were feeling unsure of, saying that having someone model it would make it easier to decide its fate. Of course, this theory might have been successful if they actually fit him. The mental image of him in your too small knitted red cardigan is something that will bring a smile to your face for years to come. 

Running out of things to hold up to you, he looked in his direct vicinity and noticed a round tin by his feet, mostly under your bed. When you heard him gasp you turned to see what he had found. “Oh, that’s just my-”

“Cookies!” he shouted as he opened the blue butter cookie tin only for his face to fall in a confused frown.

You laughed. “Yeah, sorry. I reused that old cookie tin for my sentimental crap.”

Instead of delicious cookies, the tin was full of old birthday cards and handwritten messages left by people who cared about you. A letter from your now deceased grandmother, movie stubs from big releases, and Polaroid pictures of some childhood friends. Eddie smiled to himself. It was cute how you would keep stuff like this. From the outside, you didn’t look like the type of person to hold on to birthday cards from your 5th birthday. He looked at you with a playful pout, his eyebrows pulled together. “Aww. You do have a heart.”

Your offended face only made Eddie grin wider. “Shut up,” you laugh before grabbing the nearest stuffed animal and throwing it at him.

Laughing as he dodged your attack, he couldn’t stop some of the cards from jostling out. As he was gathering them back into the tin, he took a closer look at the one made of notebook paper. ‘From Eddie’ was written on the back in big messy letters.

Noticing his sudden silence, you stand to get a better look at what’s in his hands. You peek over his shoulder to see the valentine he hand made in the 4th grade. Immediately you become overwhelmed with embarrassment thinking Eddie was completely freaked out by the fact you kept the card so long, like some kind of stalker weirdo. Words vomit out of your mouth as you try to save your dignity. “Oh! That's- that's so weird! I can't believe I still have that. I thought I threw that out years ago. I’ll just take that back-”

Eddie instinctually snatches the card against his chest, his chin tucked in as he searches your eyes. When it's clear to you he isn't going to give it up, your hand falls limp at your side. Glancing at the card once more, he tries his best to keep his voice steady. “You kept this?” 

The change in demeanor feels unsettling. “Yeah, of course I did.” You look at your feet shyly. “It, uh, means a lot to me.” When you look back up, you see Eddie staring back with confusion.

You’ve gone through this scenarios hundreds of times in the late hours of the night when your brain just couldn’t stop running. How would Eddie react if he found out you kept something he made you when you were kids? The scoff that slips past his taunting lips was the last thing you expected from Eddie. He stands from the bed, looking down on you with a humorless smile. “This shitty scrap of paper means a lot to you?” The sudden scrutiny feels harsh and full of malice. You’ve never had the displeasure to be on the receiving end of Eddie’s anger, and from what little you’ve seen thus far, you hope to never face it again.

Shrugging like it was no big deal, you try your best to downplay your defensiveness. “Well, yeah. I thought it was really sweet of you.” You can’t stop yourself from squinting at him in confusion. “I’m sorry, are you mad at me for keeping it?” Why is he upset with you over this? It was given to you as a gift. You should be able to decide what you do with it without his approval. 

Despite being the one who asked the question, Eddie doesn’t really hear your answer, nor the following question. As he stares down at the messy writing on old, yellowed notebook paper, he feels his chest tighten in an overwhelming stifled rage. Having to be face to face with a reminder of his failure fills Eddie with so much self-hatred that he can’t think straight. It’s a reminder of his shitty dad. A reminder of his shitty childhood. It wasn’t fair. Every imperfect line and patch of bleeding ink stared back at him, mocking him. It all congeals to a point of no return in his gloomy head.

Eddie stares in silence for a moment too long and you can see the emotions shift in his face into something darker. “What are you-” You are cut off by the sound of a quick and quiet crunch, the paper crumpling in his first. It’s a knee jerk reaction that has you gasping at the sight, and Eddie immediately regretting. A piece of his heart shatters at the sound of yours doing the same. “Eddie!” Your high pitched squeal of anguish around the syllables of his own name has him filling with that same sinking heat of shame he felt all those years ago. 

Your hands dart at him, taking the paper from his grip as fast as it was destroyed. You do your best to smooth the paper back into some semblance of its former glory, but the creases on the old, thin paper still remain. It makes it difficult to see the handwritten words on the page, especially since your eyes are welling up with tears. You turn away from Eddie, too angry to face him. Too hurt to let him see you cry over this. Instead you kneel on the floor, slumping over the valentine you hold with the same delicacy as you would hold a baby bird with a broken wing.

Eddie feels his heart racing with anxiety. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to make you cry. He didn’t mean to. All he wanted was to get rid of the stupid reminder, not ruin your priceless keepsake. Eddie stands there for a moment, unsure what to do with himself. He fucked up, he knows that, but he doesn’t know how to make it right. Your name falls from his lips in a stuttering mess. “I- I didn’t mean-” 

Whipping your head back to shoot him a teary eyed glare, you cut him off. “Don’t.” A sad shake of your head, “Just don’t, Eddie.” You didn’t want to hear how he was just trying to make some kind of joke. It wasn’t funny. It was just cruel. You turn back to stare at the ruined item in your cupped hands.

Eddie backs up towards the door, eyes wide and voice small. “Sorry.” You don’t say anything, but of course he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him. He leaves you be, silently making his way out of your house. 

On the drive home, he’s mentally kicking himself the entire time. Why did I do that? What is wrong with me? Why do I have to find a way to ruin everything? When he pulls into the gravel driveway of his uncle’s trailer, he cuts the engine and contemplates in silence.

He has to make this right. That valentine meant something to you. You kept that shitty scrap of paper for years while the rest of the class threw it in the trash where it belongs.  That has to mean something, right? You wouldn’t keep trash for this long unless it was important, right?

Eddie runs a hand down his face as he belatedly processed what you said about him. I thought it was really sweet of you. You thought he was sweet? The tiny compliment is enough to bring a flush to his cheeks, and it only makes him feel worse about the whole situation. It’s going to take more than an apology to make it up to you.

It’s a few hours after the incident when you hear a knock at the door. “Coming!” You yell down the hall as you race to answer it. Seeing your kind smile fall when you realize it’s him, Eddie feels like you twisted a knife in his chest. He’s holding a modest bouquet of flowers towards you, gaze struggling to meet your own. “Well, look who it is.” You lean against the door frame, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve got some nerve, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie huffs a sigh, his breath visible in the frosty February evening. “I know. I know I don’t deserve to see you, but you deserve an apology. I came back to explain myself. Not that I had any right to do what I did.” He looks up at you from under his lashes. “Can I come in so we can talk?”

There’s a pout on your lips as you consider. The flowers do look very pretty, and he was thoughtful enough to have your favorite color as the centerpiece. Getting flowers last minute, on Valentine’s Day no less, was likely no easy feat, making the gesture more grand than usual. You hum in thought a moment before finally taking pity on the man practically groveling on your doorstep. “Fine.” You step aside to let him in, looking reluctant to do so. 

Relief washes over him as you make room. The warmth of your home felt like a welcoming embrace upon his bone chilled body. Once the door is closed, Eddie outstretches the bouquet towards you again. “Uh, these are for you.”

Doing your best not to show how pleased you are, you take the flowers from him wordlessly. Eddie turns to walk towards your living room, and you take the moment to smell the sweetness of them while he isn’t watching. You sit on the couch, laying the bouquet on the coffee table for the time being. 

Eddie continues to stand, feeling unworthy of your comforts. It feels reminiscent of when he first visited your home. The awkwardness of being new friends was evident as he stood in the corner, waiting for permission to sit on the couch or even enter the room. Now it’s like he wouldn’t sit even if you asked him to. Eddie preferred to pace while he talked. He has too much energy to expel to be still.

You give him your attention finally, arms crossed again, waiting for the apology he owes you. He clears his throat, hands nervously wringing together. “So first of all, I’m sorry for ruining your valentine. And your Valentine's day, for that matter. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He chuckles dryly, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “Shit, I wasn’t thinking at all. I just got caught up in my stupid bullshit. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. It was just-” You raise an eyebrow, not quite believing him yet. Eddie releases a breath like it was struggling to get out. “Seeing that valentine I made that everyone gave me shit for…” he sighs again, struggling to find the words. “It just brought it all back. I was a kid again being pointed and laughed at in front of everyone.” 

As he says this, your features soften when you recall what he’s talking about. You heard what some of the other kids were saying about Eddie’s valentines, but at the time you didn’t think he cared what they thought. He was always unapologetically himself to the point that the thought of Eddie being embarrassed or ashamed never even crossed your mind.

Eddie looks at you with a sad tilt of his head, wild curls bunching at his shoulder. “That doesn’t make it right, but I thought you ought to know why I did what I did.” He shakes his head dismissively. “It had nothing to do with you and I’m sorry I couldn’t control myself. I’m a fuckin’ idiot, sweetheart.” He smiles ruefully, “but you already knew that.” His eyes dim a little at his self-deprecation.

You nod in understanding, a small smile on your face. “I appreciate your apology.” You weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him just yet, and you wanted to be sure he realized that.

Although Eddie knew it wouldn’t be easy, he can’t help but feel disappointed he hadn’t earned your forgiveness yet. Regardless, he nods with a tight lipped smile in acceptance before reaching a hand into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. “I wanted to make it up to you,” he pulls an envelope out, “with this.” 

You blink owlishly at Eddie’s outstretched hand, surprised he brought more than flowers. Standing from the couch, you gingerly take the card from him, watching him for any signs of what it might be. 

As you open the package, Eddie is already explaining his reasoning. “Now, I know it’s not the same, and it doesn’t hold the same meaning as the original, but I tried my best to remake it for you.”

Pulling the card from the envelope, you gasp at what you find. The writing is much neater, the drawings more detailed, and even the paper feels like it’s made of thicker material, but there is no doubt that this is Eddie’s reconstruction of the card he destroyed. 

The premise of the card was the same. A penguin (your favorite animal at the time) wearing sunglasses, surrounded by icebergs with bubble letters saying ‘U R COOL’ after your name. The sketches are much more sophisticated than any nine year old could make. It was clear that Eddie had honed his art skills over the years by doodling in the margins of all his school work instead of paying attention in class. But it wasn’t what the card looked like that made it special. It was the thoughtful gesture itself. 

When you look back up at Eddie, he shifts on his feet uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. He’s unsure what to make of your expression. “So, uh. Do you like it?” Before you can answer, he’s already speaking for you with a defeated slump of his shoulders. “You hate it, don’t you? I’m sorry, I know it’s not-”

“I love it.”

His eyes go wide, genuinely surprised. “Yeah?” He perks up when he sees your beaming face. “Really?” Eddie lets out a small ‘oof’ when you crash into him with an enthusiastic hug. His chuckling rumbles against your ear as you hold him tightly. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Parting from the hug, you admire the valentine some more. “And I do forgive you, Eddie. I just wish you would have told me what Valentine’s Day really means to you sooner.” You search his dark chocolate eyes. “We’re friends, right? You know I would never make fun of you like that.”

And Eddie did know that, but in that moment, he couldn’t rationalize his intrusive thoughts away. It’s easier to hear that you’re loved versus actually believing it. All he can muster is a shrug, unable to put his inability to trust into words. “Yeah I know.”

With his unconvincing answer, you try a different approach to get him to understand what he means to you. Wordlessly, you leave the room leaving Eddie standing there wondering what you’re up to. You’re back before he gets the chance to overthink your departure, a picture frame in hand. As you fiddle with the tiny metal prongs holding the backing in place, you begin to explain. “From now on, I’m gonna make sure everyone sees this.” You slot the valentine into the frame before securing the backing once more. 

You hang your trophy in the center of your living room wall. Once you’re satisfied with the results, you take a step back and admire it with your hands on your hips. “There. Now, anytime someone visits me, I can brag to them about the personal valentine you made me.” Looking back over your shoulder, you see Eddie smirking bashfully.

“Oh come on. No one’s gonna want to see that.” He gestures to the hand drawn image, but you’re already shaking your head defiantly.

“Too bad. They’re gonna have to. Matter of fact, I’m gonna require they marvel at it for no less than 60 seconds before they can even enter my home.” Your arms are crossed with a playful smile on your face.

Eddie chuckles and there’s a small pause as he appreciates you. “You’re such a dork,” is his mumbled response.

You point up at the framed doodled penguin adorned in shades behind you with an astonishing amount of confidence. “Not according to my best friend.”

He huffs an exasperated sigh. “That’s it. I’m taking it back.” Eddie starts towards the wall, reaching above you. “You’re not cool anymore.” 

Instinctually, you put your hands on his chest in an attempt to stop him, but Eddie isn’t one to back down. “No! You can’t!” Giggles bubble out of you as you try your best to stand your ground. “I am cool!”

[justmeinadaze]

Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."

A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.

This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.

Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.

This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).

Word Count: 8679

“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else. 

“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”

“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”

You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college. 

When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.

“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”

“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”

The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.

“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”

Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction. 

“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”

You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time. 

No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed. 

When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk. 

“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”

“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”

“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”

Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears. 

***

With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.

As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you. 

Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.

“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes. 

Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air. 

“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”

“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”

Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin. 

#############

That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track. 

“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled. 

“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”

“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.

“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”

“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”

“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”

“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”

“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”

You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student. 

After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary. 

“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”

His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile. 

Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.

“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”

Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 

“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”  

Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him. 

***

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”

Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes. 

The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area. 

No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.

Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again. 

“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”

Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking. 

Fuck me he’s big. 

You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.

With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance. 

“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”

Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.

“H-Harder, Steve, please.”

“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them. 

“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”

Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him. 

“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”

Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9. 

No one moved as the three of you stared each other. 

Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces. 

“Y/N…”

Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.

##############

What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure. 

Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show. 

As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention. 

“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. 

“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”

“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”

That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 

“I’m doing what now?”

“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”

“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”

“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear. 

“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”

Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”

“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”

“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”

“What? No. I would never—”

“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”

“Nothing. I don’t—”

“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”

“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”

Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue. 

“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again. 

“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”

#############

A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 

Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 

As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 

Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 

“Is that my favorite piggy?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 

“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 

“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”

As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 

“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”

“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 

Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.

Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 

“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 

“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”

“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”

“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”

The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 

“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”

“WHAT?!”

Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 

“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”

Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 

***

When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.

“You ok, babe?”

His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 

When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”

“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”

His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.

Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 

Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

What could he have meant by that…

Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 

There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 

They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 

What must have happened to bring them together?

“Steven, you need to calm down.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 

“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”

“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”

“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Why then?”

“She…she seems like a nice girl.”

“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”

“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”

“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”

“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”

Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.

“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”

“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 

“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”

They both glance at each other as you blush. 

“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 

“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”

“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”

Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”

“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 

Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 

It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 

“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”

All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 

“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”

Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 

“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”

As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 

“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”

“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.

“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.

“Edward…”

“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”

“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”

“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”

The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 

“He said show me respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”

You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 

“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”

“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 

“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”

“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”

He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 

Or…

“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”

“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 

“Go ahead, Y/N.”

As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.

You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 

“Did you see our cocks?”

“Yes.”

Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 

“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”

“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”

Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 

“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”

He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 

“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”

“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”

While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 

“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”

“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 

“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.

You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?

“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”

As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.

“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”

“Our?”

Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 

“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 

The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 

“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “

“Good. Good girl.”

His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 

“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”

The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 

“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”

“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 

“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”

Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 

“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”

You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 

“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.

As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 

“What did I say? How do you answer us?”

“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”

Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 

“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”

“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”

“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”

Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.

“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 

“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”

Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 

“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”

“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 

At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 

“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”

Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 

“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 

“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”

Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 

“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”

Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 

Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 

“Sensitive. I like that.”

Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 

“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.

“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 

“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”

“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”

Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 

“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”

“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”

They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 

“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”

Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 

“We know. You’re sorry.”

Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.

“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”

“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.

“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”

“What do you want, Ed?”

“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”

Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.

“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”

Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 

Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 

“I’m…I’m…please…”

Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 

“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 

“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”

His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 

“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”

“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.

Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 

“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Green.”

His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 

“Green, what?”

“Green, SIR!”

You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 

“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”

“Green, Mr. Harrington.”

As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 

“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 

Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 

“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”

The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 

“Still green, babe?”

“Yeeeees, sir.”

“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god!”

With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 

“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”

“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”

“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”

“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”

“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”

As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 

You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 

You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 

“For me?”

“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 

Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 

“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 

Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”

As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”

Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 

“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 

“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”

Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 

“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 

“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”

Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 

“I guess we can sleep in the—”

“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 

“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”

At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”

“10 years. Not much.”

“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”

“So do you, honey.”

“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”

“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”

“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”

Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 

##############

@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon

[fruittt-punchhh]

useless

Synopsis: you were called in for the night shift unexpectedly, and now have to spend the next - 5 hours - with the on-shift manager, Sukuna. based on this ask.

Characters: Sukuna x reader. Other jjk characters mentioned, but not a major point in the plot.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! smut, afab! reader, fem! reader, manager! Sukuna (sorry, no four-armed, two-cocked royal monster for this one unfortunately), suggestiveness, cursing, mentions of female masturbation, public sex if you squint (outdoors), pet/affectionate names, age gap kiinda, big dick! Sukuna (duh), cunnilingus (m! receiving), probably other stuff i forgot.

Word count: 11.6k (holy SHIT)

Notes: it's time for a new arc on this page bitches. Toji is my one and only forever as you all know but everyone deserves to read ab sucking off their fave fictional character at your imaginary place of work :) @scorpiosugar

“Behind!” you hear someone yell from, well, behind you for the tenth time that hour. It was well past the restaurant’s usual rush hours, but customers were steadily pouring in through the large glass doors you could see through the crowd up front.

You had clocked in a few hours ago, you remind yourself, peering at the ticking clock overhead, silently willing the hour hand to reach ten o’clock already. Only three hours left, you cheer to yourself, trying to remind yourself how good your paycheck would look after picking up the extra shift. Someone had called out earlier, leaving the on shift manager to ring you much too early on your off day, all but begging for your assistance. Regrettably you agreed, knowing the extra money couldn’t hurt. It’s not like you had plans anyway, unfortunately.

Your usual on shift manager was Shoko, and while she ran a tight ship, being in the kitchen was fun with her. She made sure things were done properly, but she didn’t mind if you slacked off as long as your responsibilities were handled first. She even let you take smoke breaks, knowing damn well you didn’t smoke. She recognized your work ethic and wanted to keep you around as long as she could, even if that meant letting you dip out the back door for a fifteen minute breather every now and then.

“Y/n?!” You hear a booming voice to your left, snapping you out of whatever daze you were in.

“You gonna’ run the food or not?” Sukuna asks.

The dreaded Sukuna. You’ve barely worked with him before as he switched to nights almost right after you started, and you were on day shift. While you’ve never had any bad interactions with him, everyone at the restaurant said he was such a pain to work for, and you weren’t willing to find out just how much of a pain he could be today.

You were usually in the back of the restaurant, quickly prepping and cooking whatever stupid order came out of the noisy ticket printer along with the rest of the kitchen staff. However, due to the short staffing on this fine Friday, you were held responsible for not only prepping the meals, but running them to a certain section of tables the other wait staff couldn’t cover. It was only a few tables, but you hated going into the main part of the restaurant. You chose the back for its seclusiveness, and the staff back here were much more enjoyable to be around. Plus, you weren’t a stranger to wiping your hands on your shirt or apron, dirtying up your all black attire soon into every shift. Walking out into the semi-fancy restaurant with a towel tucked into your hip, sauce stains on your apron, and sweat beading at your forehead was not your preferred method of presenting yourself to the…lovely customers.

“S-Sorry, yeah,” you say back quickly, grabbing your tray and hoisting it on top of your shoulder for added support. You bump open the swinging doors with your hip, rushing to your table. You can’t believe you missed the signature ‘ding!’ that accompanied a completed tray. You swore you heard that ding in your sleep, haunting your peaceful moments at rest more than a few times a week. Must have missed it this time, though.

—

Finally. You heave a sigh you had been holding in for the last hour. You had most of your tables cleared or taken care of, and you had a moment in the kitchen to yourself to catch your breath. The night was finally dying down, and you only had a little over an hour left. Maybe you wouldn’t die a slow and painful death in the back of the restaurant tonight, and maybe you’d be able to go home to your cozy bed in due time (almost as if you did every night).

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you turn to look for Sukuna, desperate for a break. It takes a minute, but you run into him (almost literally) as he’s taking a step out of his cramped office.

“Shit, sorry -“

“My bad-“

You both mutter, tripping over the words as you both look for an apology for nearly toppling over one another. You chuckle as he reaches his hand behind his neck, grabbing it and sighing as he lets his arm rest there. You take careful attention to note how his forearms looked like they might split the two buttons neatly fastened at his wrists.

“Can I go on my smoke break now? Just need a few,” you ask, hoping he wouldn’t bust your balls about it.

“Uh, sure, I’ll meet you out there,” he says before he turns back into his office, leaving the door only slightly ajar.

Meet you out there? What was this, a soccer match? You have no time to waste in responding and immediately turn on your heels, shuffling through the crowd of servers, cooks, and busboys galore to the back door.

Sure, he could just need a smoke too. He’s been here far longer than you today and the heavy bags that decorate his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you - or anyone for that matter.

You leave the door propped open behind you with a random piece of wood sitting outside, not wanting to have to bang on the door again for someone to let you in after it automatically locks - a mistake you only let yourself make once twice. The cool air hits you immediately as you search for your trusty milk crate you fashioned as a stool. You try not to get on your phone during your break, only using it to set a timer or check your texts if you had to. You liked to take this time to detach from the busy building behind you, taking in concentrated, steady breaths.

You set the too-short timer on your phone, raising up your hip to slide it back into your rear pocket. On busy days like these, especially days where you were supposed to be off, watching reruns of whatever peaked your fancy on the couch, you felt the need for a cigarette. You used to smoke in your college days at parties or if someone offered, never wanting to cross the line of buying a pack for yourself. You wouldn’t even know what to ask for anyways.

But on days like these, it almost felt necessary. You continue your breathing, leaning your neck down to stretch the sore muscles as you place your face in your hands. You rub your eyes, thanking god you didn’t accidentally pop one out as you received the biggest scare you had in a while.

“Jesus Christ!” You blurt, totally forgetting that your manager was planning on accompanying you for your break. You hadn’t even heard the heavy metal door creek and strain as it opened, there was no flash of light from inside the building, nothing. Weird.

“You meditatin’ or something?” He asks, seeming the most unconcerned you had ever seen him. He reaches behind him, pulling out a shiny, new pack of cigarettes, still tightly wrapped in cellophane. He rips the plastic packaging with his teeth, and it almost looks like he’s flashing a smile at you.

He raises his eyebrows at you with an attitude, non verbally demanding an answer as he hits the pack bottom down on his palm with a loud thwap! thwap!

“No,” you answer plainly, “just on my break.” He pulls a fresh cigarette from the pack before bringing it up to his lips. He pats his pockets, frantically searching for something to accompany his cigarette.

“Got a lighter?” He says, muffled by the thin stick.

“Nope,” you offer, not bothering to throw in an apology like you usually would.

He huffs, turning swiftly back into the restaurant after he mutters a low, ‘useless’ that he assumes you didn’t hear. He yells from inside of the restaurant, asking some shiu? for a lighter.

He’s quickly stepping back outside, cupping the lighter in both hands before he shields the end of his cigarette. He flicks the start wheel, and you try your damndest not to admire how good he looks softly illuminated by the flame. He pulls in a heavy drag as you watch the tip of his cigarette turn to hot ash.

He huffs, blowing out a large cloud into the wind, “Watchu’ starin’ for?”

You hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Got nothin’ else to look at. Besides the dumpster, I guess,” you add, motioning to the container of literal hot garbage that was all too close to you two.

“Good to know I’m better to look at than piles of shit,” he says, not attempting to muffle the slight chuckle that escapes.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you say, reaching back into your pocket to check how much time you had left. 8 minutes.

He huffs again, but decides to keep his quip to himself for time’s sake.

“Why aren’t you smoking on your smoke break?” He asks, trying his hardest to appear like he doesn’t actually want to know.

“Dunno’. I don’t smoke that much,” you respond. But it just wasn’t good enough.

“I could snitch on you for that, ya’ know?” He threatens, waiting to see if you’d stand up for yourself or cower meekly like the rest of his subordinates when he applied even the slightest pressure.

You laugh, “Do it then. Shoko doesn’t care,” you tell him truthfully. She knew from the jump you didn’t smoke and still allowed it, stating that if anyone tried to bitch at you for it to blame it on her. Which you wholeheartedly did.

“Good for her,” he adds, not knowing whether to be offended or impressed by your brevity. “But right now, I’m your manager,” he says as he crouches down, wanting to look you eye to eye.

You ignore the flush you feel rise up your neck. You felt yourself fawning under his gaze, paying too much attention to the purse of his lips as he took yet another extended drag of his cigarette.

You had to keep your composure, even though he wasn’t the ugliest person you’d ever seen. You were used to standing up for yourself in the kitchen. Being a woman in a kitchen environment is not for the weak, and this fact you knew too well. You didn’t even feel like you were that attractive, but you couldn’t count on all fingers and toes how many hands you’ve had to swat back or advances you’ve had to decline from the creepy older men that worked beside you.

You didn’t want to spend the - you check - 6 minutes you had left on your break arguing with a manager you barely knew.

“Then gimme’ one or I’ll go back in,” you offer. You hated to ask, but a cigarette may help you chug through this last hour of your shift.

He smirks, pressing his hand on his knee to help himself stand. You’re hidden in his shadow now, only faintly lit by the dim street light nearby. He reaches in his pocket again, letting out a sigh as he meets your question with a proposition: “Close for me, then sure. You can even restart your fuckin’ timer for all I care.” He adds, becoming annoyed by how often you were checking your phone in front of him, as if you didn’t want to be outside with him or something.

He has to be kidding. It was Friday and the restaurant closed at 1, and with how busy it was, you’d be lucky to be out of there by 2:30.

“Close?!” You say with the upmost attitude you can muster. He was insane if he thought you were staying that long.

“Choose,” is all he says before he reaches one hand towards the doorknob, the other outstretched to you, a fresh cigarette in hand.

Fuck. You ran through the pros and cons in your mind. The money wouldn’t hurt, but you were so tired. Your feet were aching and your back was in knots. But again, the money. The sole reason you took this extra shift in the first place. The extra fifteen minutes plus a cigarette seemed enough to convince you in the needy state you were in. You were ready to accept your fate before Sukuna butts in with a… countdown?

“Three,” he spits, growing impatient.

You wanted to test that patience. Maybe it was the rumors you’d heard about big, bad Sukuna.

“Two.”

But maybe it was the way he looked towering over you, presenting you with options he had selfishly picked, not caring for a compromise. He was the manager after all.

“O-,”

“Gimme that,” you interrupt, reaching to grab the cigarette out of his cold hand. You hate that you noticed his hands, but the dim lighting outside provided you little room to work with in terms of hand eye coordination. Your fingertips brush his lightly, and you would have thought he was losing circulation if you didn’t know any better.

He leans back against the wall as he watches you restart your timer, purposefully ignoring the previous brush of your manicured hands against his.

You motion for him to hand you the lighter, to which he smirks, crossing his large arms across his chest.

“Nope,” he mimics your word from earlier, putting extra emphasis on the ‘p’ sound with a pop of his lips. He was doing anything to get under your skin.

“What do you mean nope?” You ask as you take the cigarette back out of your mouth.

“Say please and I’ll think about it,” he teases.

14 minutes.

You were too old for this shit.

You stand abruptly, turning back into the restaurant as you swing the door open with a huff. Sukuna squints behind you, the bright kitchen lights burning his sleep deprived eyes. You rush to his office, pilfering through drawer after drawer to find a lighter. You knew the desk well - it was shared by all the managers. You and Shoko had many conversations in this office after closing time, enjoying each others company as she complained about the weird customers you’d have throughout the night.

Bingo. A bright red lighter peeks out from underneath some old mail, a faint, small ‘s’ written on the side in black sharpie. How cute. Maybe his mom sewed his initials into his undies, too.

You’re already lighting the cigarette before the door closes behind you, pulling in a much needed puff as you sit down back on your crate, and you are far from the picture of grace. Hair messy, face sweaty, and you nearly tumble off the crate from the sheer force of sitting down with such an attitude.

Sukuna tries to avoid your gaze as you come back out, instead occupying himself with following the small beads of sweat that fall down your temple. The sweaty, curled hair by your ears. The sleepy, heavy eyes that cut him such a nasty look.

You pull in and sigh, thankful for the fifteen minute vice you’ve allowed yourself for the night.

“Hm - that’s mine,” he taunts, surprised you were so forward to go through his desk. He’d have to talk to you about that later.

You hold it up, showing him the little ‘s’ on the side with a sarcastic smile. You toss it to him without warning, laughing to yourself as he misses entirely, dropping it on the ground at his feet.

“Clumsy,” you mutter, and you swear his eyes widen slightly, followed by a barely noticeable pink hue across his nose.

No one ever spoke to him like this. His employees seemed so frightened by him, although he couldn’t say for sure why. He was stern, but he noticed most of his attempts at ‘bonding’ with his workers fell short. He felt himself fulfilling the role of the angry, harsh manager more often than he’d like to admit.

You grew uncomfortable with each moment - the silence was deafening as you tried to find something to say, but he beats you to it.

“Uh, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier,” he professes, actively avoiding your gaze. Although you were busy looking at the dumpster as opposed to him, he wouldn’t know. He kept his eyes trained on his feet. He hated apologizing.

“What?” You ask simply. You knew what moment he was referring too, but you needed to milk this rare vulnerability he was showing.

“Jesus.. earlier. I raised my voice. The fuckin’ bell’s messed up and I guess you didn’t hear it.”

So you weren’t going insane! It made you feel better knowing it was (or wasn’t?) a figment of your imagination. But you felt a little bad for the guy. His macho attitude was long gone as he tokes his cigarette, still avoiding eye contact.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you offer, not knowing what else to say.

“I’m not,” he spits, meeting your gaze with his once more. You hate that it gives you goosebumps.

“Sounds like it, to me,” you say, trying to hold your smile.

“Just explaining. Not apologizing. Two different things.” He says harshly. He really did not appreciate you trying to take advantage of his half-apology.

You fail at finding something to say, letting the silence linger for too long again. You were desperate for his break to be over, but he seemed to be intent on staying with you the entire time.

6 minutes.

“Why’d you switch to nights?” You begin, needing to cut the tension with something. You were curious if he was maybe in school or had some responsibilities that kept him busy during the day.

Again, that small blush. The barely there crimson hues spreads further than last time, covering his cheeks and if you weren’t mistaken, his ears. With his hair, he was turning to a pastel strawberry before your very eyes.

He clears his throat, “You looked like trouble,” he admits.

You’re hit with a flood of confusion. Most importantly, the reason he switched was because of you? Secondly, why did he have to use that phrase? It was more demeaning than he knew, and quite frankly -

“For me,” he finishes.

“What?” You huff, growing frustrated with his choice of words.

“You looked like trouble for me,” he corrects himself.

What the hell does that even mean?

He notices the utter confusion painted on your pretty face. He throws his cigarette on the ground beneath him, smushing it out before he grabs the lighter from his feet.

Turning back into the restaurant, he answers your unsaid question.

“I tend to go after women that look like you,” is all he says before he’s back in the restaurant, making sure to close the door tightly behind him.

Go after? What was he, a fucking tiger?

You can’t lie and act like the compliment (?) didn’t make your ego swell a bit. But switching his entire schedule because he was, what, scared of you? Worried he might “come after” you? You needed to know more, simply to have gossip for when you work with Shoko next.

Your timer still reads 4 minutes left, but your craving for the cigarette has long since subsided. You snuff it out, wringing your hands together before rubbing them on your jeans, desperate to get the sickly smell off of your fingertips.

From inside the restaurant, you can sense an influx of tickets printing. You hear feet start to bustle about, pots and pans clanging together, and that same loud voice barking orders at his employees. You only had three minutes left, but you couldn’t get the last 20 out of your mind. You’d find a point to bring it up to him later, you were sure of it.

You stand with a grunt, stretching your arms over your head before you turn to face the door - that Sukuna had so graciously shut behind him. You bang on the door with a closed fist, a loud boom! boom! boom! echoing through the nearly vacant lot behind you.

After your eighth or so hit, the handle turns, and you’re met with tufts of pink hair before anything else. You scoff.

“Missed me that much, huh?” He teases, and you’re taken aback. All of the previous conversation you had with him could be taken totally innocently, all except for that last minute or so. But you wouldn’t be wrong in thinking he was outright flirting with you.

You roll your eyes, shoving past him as he chuckles. You weren’t going to be stuck here with him until the wee hours of the morning, so it’s best you get started on your closing tasks asap. You didn’t close all too often, and you didn’t want to get overwhelmed with the responsibilities of shutting down the restaurant for the night.

You get back to your station, quickly catching up with what entree is currently being prepped. You try to keep your hands and mind busy, well aware of Sukuna’s looming presence in the kitchen. Before your actual smoke break, you tried your best to avoid him, not wanting to become subject to his bitching if you weren’t on your A-game. Now, you felt like being on this supposed A-game was impossible. You were exhausted, your body ached, and you were somehow convinced to close despite the very loud voice in your head protesting that decision.

Now, you had to deal with Sukuna’s gaze peering into the back of your skull. It made you nervous and you hated that, hated that you allowed him even an inkling of control over how you felt. But you couldn’t lie to yourself and pretend it didn’t affect you. You had to remind yourself that this was your manager, at least for tonight, and you were his employee. His stare was probably nothing more than a desperate attempt at calling you out on a mistake.

Right?

Is all you can ask yourself when you turn towards the trash can, potato peels in your cupped hands, when you catch him staring. He was leaned against a wall behind you, notepad in hand with the end of his pen affixed between his teeth. His eyes were glued to your ass before he scans your full body, taking in all of you before his eyes meet yours. Both of your eyes widen, shocked at how openly he was ogling your body. You feel the familiar blush rise up your neck again, and you couldn’t mistake a similar one appearing on Sukuna’s face. It was a brighter pink under the fluorescence of the kitchen lights. He threads his hand through his hair before he rushes to Nobara, quick to reprimand her for overcooking a steak. As if he wasn’t just drinking in the image of you.

You had to find time to talk to him, and soon. While you weren’t incredibely angry that he seemed to be interested in you, you didn’t want to assume he was incorrectly.

Another ticket prints as you’re placing the rest of your current ticket on the tray in front of you, ringing the stupid bell extra hard to ensure the wait staff hear it. You grab the ticket before you let out an exaggerated heave - it was a dessert order. Almost all of the desserts at the restaurant were pre-frozen or in the walk in, and there was never any actual cooking involved for the most part. You wipe your hands on your apron, turning for the walk in.

You yank on the comically large handle, the freezing air covering you in chills. The particular order had a side of ice cream, so you walk through the cool part of the walk in to the freezer door, yanking again on another stupid handle. The air in the freezer was nothing compared to the cooler, and you could already see your fingers turning red underneath the LED bulb above the door. The walk in was a mess, and the freezer even more so. You squat near the door, pilfering through the many items adorning the shelves. It didn’t help that the ice cream container was in a large cardboard box, similar to nearly every item in the freezer.

You stand, ready to step to the next shelf in your quest for ice cream, until you feel a nudge on your back, followed by a brief ‘scuse me’ from a now familiar voice. For the second time that night, he scares you so badly you think you could faint.

“Why are you so fuckin’ quiet?” You hiss, to which he shoots you a confused look from over his shoulder. He was pulling in a cart from the make line, full of containers and sauce bottles. He walked in back first, leaving nothing to your imagination as his tight black button up hugged his… very muscular back. It’s not like you knew him well at all, but you didn’t know him to be an avid gym-goer.

“Gonna’ help me or you wanna’ keep eye fucking me?” He grunts, failing to notice how all of your breath was caught in your chest.

Eye fucking? I mean yeah, you were admiring him. But you hadn’t even thought about anything sexual. Up until now. You felt delirious being up so late, and it had been a while since you got laid. And he still wasn’t the ugliest person on the planet.

He shifts to the other side of the cart, grabbing the necessary items and putting them on their applicable shelf. You notice how he’s able to grab nearly everything single-handed, whereas it took you both hands and a hoist of your knee to get some of the heavier items up on the high shelves. His hands were large with clean, neat nails trimmed short underneath a layer of shiny black polish. His sleeves were bundled at the midway of his forearms, revealing two black banded tattoos that wrapped around each of his wrists. You wondered if those were the only ones.

He lifts a heavier box over his head, shoving it in a back corner of the top shelf. You can’t miss the slight untuck of his shirt, the hardened ‘v’ that appears from underneath, and the tufts of blonde hair, starting at his belly button, trailing down to his -

“Eye fuckin’ it is then, huh?” He laughs as he turns to face you, leaning on the cart with one arm. His other arm is busy lazily tucking his shirt back in, his large hand repeatedly dipping underneath his waistband to smooth his shirt over his pelvis. You swear the shirt is tucked in enough, and has been for the last few seconds as he continues tucking and smoothing the fabric. He notices your eyes dart to his hand and he decides to leave it in his waistband, a feeble attempt to warm his cold hands and keep your attention trained to his waist. You stumble over your words, not even bothering to find an explanation.

“What is going on here? Like.. what are you trying to do?” You ask.

“What?” He scoffs, refusing to believe you’d call him out on his long glances and repeated attempts to be near you.

You cross your arms, shivering, as you wait for him to respond with an answer.

He pauses.

“Can we talk about it not in the freezer?” He asks, crossing both arms over his large chest as he’s shivering now too.

“Where then?” You ask, surprised that he even knew what the ‘it’ was you were referring to.

“Meet me in the cooler when you’ve finished your tickets,” he adds before he’s grabbing the cart and pushing the freezer door open into the cooler to leave.

So it wasn’t just your imagination. You had no clue where this conversation could lead, but you were eager to see. Now, finishing your tickets was the priority, which brings you back to the ice cream. Oh. Sukuna had replaced it when he came in and you were too busy gawking to notice. You grab the container, rushing out of the walk in to be met with a loud yelp from Nobara, exclaiming that she thought you’d died in there. Seems you weren’t the only one getting scared tonight.

You only had four more tickets, and one was a drink order for the bar, thankfully. You rush to finish, needing the customers gone as soon as possible so you could start fully cleaning the back. You definitely weren’t rushing so you could talk to Sukuna. Definitely.

In your hurry, you spill sauce onto your workstation close to the edge, some of it spilling onto your apron. Instinctually, you scoot your hips back from the table quickly in an attempt to avoid further dirtying your clothes, to no avail. In your motion, you accidentally thrust your hips into something - no, someone, behind you. While bumping into someone in the kitchen is no rare occasion, you could tell by the huff of breath let out behind you that the hips you just pushed your ass on belonged to Sukuna.

Was he hard?

You felt embarrassed even thinking of a question like that, but it was for good reason. The half-second you had your hips aligned with his allowed you to feel some sort of.. length pushed against you. There was no mistaking it. You look back to him over your shoulder as he’s stepping away from you, and he rolls his eyes at you. Not in a good, ‘oh god her ass is heavenly’ type of way. In a, ‘you can do better than that’ type of way.

One more hour.

-

You finish your tickets, taking extra precautions not to make any more messes. You go to look for Sukuna, but he’s nowhere to be found. He’s not in the kitchen, and his office door is propped open to an empty seat. You ask a coworker if they’ve seen him, and they only answer with a shrug. You glance to the back door, and it’s closed shut. You head to the walk in anyways, assuming he’ll meet you there in due time.

Until the door is pushed into you. A large hand grabs your wrist, pulling you in. You’re yanked into the cold and backed into the door before you can even let out a gasp. Sukuna stands opposite you, eyes too hooded and low for you to discern how he may be feeling (not that you care).

“Talk,” he says, waiting for you to lead.

“I’m the one that asked you the question. Remember?” You ask, adding a sarcastic smile for good measure.

“You asked me two questions. Remember?” He asks, pitching his voice an octave or two to mimic you.

At this point, you didn’t remember what the hell you asked specifically. You were so drained from the day you could have asked him ten questions and you’d be none the wiser. You nod your head 'no'.

“You wanted to know ‘what’s going on here’ and ‘what I’m trying to do’. Two different questions, woman.”

The nickname makes you squirm internally. You felt desperate - too desperate even. You knew he had a few years on you, although you didn't know how many. You were in your mid-twenties and he couldn't have been more than thirty-five. But still, the difference was there. Even if you two shared a birth year, he was still in a position of power over you. Regardless of how often you two worked together, he was a manager, and you were a line cook. Every voice in your mind is begging you to leave, but your feet are glued to the cold metal floor.

“Yeah, s-sorry. What is going on?”

He notices your nervousness and he wishes it didn’t make him feel so fucking flustered. Last time he checked, he wasn’t a horny teenager anymore.

“Well, we’re unfortunately at our place of employment, on the clock. I’m your manager. You’re my employee,” he says, taking the smallest step towards you, ”and that about covers it. Unless you think there’s something else going on.”

There’s no way he’s trying to pull the fucking stupid card.

“I know there’s something else going on, Sukuna. I saw you staring,” you spit. You caught him swallowing after you said his name, which would have been cuter if you weren’t currently freezing to death.

“Just because I stare doesn’t mean something’s going on,” he says with a smirk, shamelessly letting his eyes trail your body again, lingering when his eyes meet your chest to commit to memory how your nipples cut through your shirt in the cold of the walk in.

You huff, raising your voice to emphasize your point, “Then why are you walking around with a fuckin’ hardon?”

You barely notice the muffled ‘I wasn’t’ before Sukuna’s eyes widen as you feel a weight leave your back. You could barely process someone was trying to come in the walk in by the time Sukuna is crowding your space, one hand flying to the bulky handle to keep the door closed, the other reaching to cover your mouth. His body is slightly pressed to yours and his scent is invading your every thought. He smells masculine - musky and woodsy, like he had been out in the rain. His hands were harsh on your face, pushing down onto you with more force than you thought necessary. His thumb cupped under your chin, long, thick fingers nearly touching your ear as they stretch across your now beet-red cheeks. His chest and arms flexed in front of you as he kept the door shut, and you had to shut your eyes for fear of being caught staring.

The almost-intruder gives up, releasing the handle as the both of you let out a breath. The white, smoke-like air leaving his mouth in the cool air of the walk in clouded your vision as he removes his hand from your mouth, but not the door. He couldn’t risk having someone else barge in and it gave him an excuse to have you against the wall in front of him, albeit not in the way he would have preferred.

You two lock eyes, almost panting from the intensity of what just happened. You both look at each other’s lips, with Sukuna’s eyes flicking between your lips and eyes more often than yours.

You lick your lips, feeling like you were under a spotlight with how intensely he’s meeting your gaze. He was about to speak before you interrupt him, suddenly remember his admission from earlier.

“You weren’t hard?” You ask, and he laughs. The first real laugh you’ve got out of him the entire night.

“No, no I wasn’t, hah. Why do you care?”

You felt stupid but there was no way he wasn’t hard. He must be lying because you couldn’t have imagined what you felt. There was no mistaking the size, the length, the heat. It had to be.

“Then what was it?” You ask, patiently waiting for him to find an excuse.

Until he hits you with a, “my dick,” that knocks the wind from your gut. The shit-eating grin that plasters his face sends a warmth to your groin you haven’t felt in a while.

“W-What do you mean?” You ask, and he pouts, mocking your sheepish attitude.

“I don’t understand what you’re so confused about, girl. You’re the one that rubbed your ass on my dick. Doesn’t mean it was hard,” he shrugs.

You remember how big he felt even through the layers of clothing, and it scared you. That was him soft? You were starting to wonder what you’d gotten yourself into. But you had no clue how to respond to that. You couldn’t just compliment him on his soft dick. Weird.

“Well, you still didn’t answer both questions.”

He huffs out a chuckle, remembering the previously avoided ‘what are you trying to do?’

He looks at you, lost in thought. He scans your face before he’s reaching his hand towards yours shoved in your pocket. He extends his palm, motioning for you to place your hand in his. You oblige, pulling your hand out of your pocket before he’s grabbing your wrist, completing enveloping it in his large palm.

He leans closer to you, placing his left cheek on yours as he speaks into your ear.

“I think you know what I’m trying to do, y/n.”

He grips your wrist tighter, leading it to his groin to present you with his now undeniably hard dick. You stifle a gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation of his breath on your ear, cold cheek against your burning one, hard length now sitting heavy in your palm, twitching under your light touch. Now you know why you thought he was hard earlier. He was a shower and a grower, and the sinful thoughts that filled your mind did nothing to stop you from sliding your hand down further, to see just how much of a grower he really was. You knew you should protest this firmly, tell him he’s wrong for lusting after his subordinate, and clock out to seal the deal. But the stifled ‘mmph’ you hear to your left after you squeeze around his tip, precum leaking through his pants, has you questioning why you’d even think to leave. The wetness you thought you had under control was becoming a problem as it slowly soaked through your panties.

He pulls away from your ear, flicking your hand away with a tsk before he’s closing in on you once more, grabbing your chin so you can look up at him properly.

“Since when are you so greedy, huh? So eager? Didn’t tell you to start strokin’ it, now did I? Or are you that much of an overachiever like I’ve heard? I had to beg you to close f’me so I doubt it’s that.” He trails off, bombarding you with questions that warm your face again and you’re sure you have a fever at this point.

You huff out a hushed ‘fuck you’ to which he laughs.

He raised his fist up and starts pounding on the closed walk in door. His force is so brutal, he has to grab the handle to keep it closed as he hammers away at the door.

“That a promise?” is all he asks before he’s shoving the both of you out of the walk in, tripping over each other’s feet as you shoot him a confused look.

He ignores you, yelling out a loud “helloooo?” to the kitchen staff that just witnessed you two stumble out of the cooler.

Nobara rushes up, worry painted on her face as she grabs your wrists, stabilizing you as you catch your balance.

“Sir?” She mutters, looking just as confused as you were.

“We were locked in there for like, ten fucking minutes. No one noticed me beating the damn door down?” He yells. Your face grows redder as you look at Nobara struggle for a response.

“I-It’s fine, really. The handle just got stuck and he was too weak to get it open. He's kinda' useless,” which earns a laugh from more than just Nobara. Sukuna cuts you a look, flaring his nostrils as he’s walking off with a pout to his office. How pathetic.

You dust off your clothes, relieved to see there’s no more tickets printing off. Most of the remaining staff had started on their closing tasks while you and Sukuna were busy fraternizing in the walk in. Although Sukuna left with an attitude, you still couldn’t ignore the pool in your underwear and the ever-present pulse you felt throb with each tick of the clock.

-

The restaurant has mostly died down by now, with only a few lingering patrons at the bar and a couple or two still left in the dining area. Clean dishes were piling up on the right side of the sink and you were only left with the bare minimum cookware at your station. You see Sukuna walk into the lobby of the restaurant, not so subtly urging the remaining customers to leave. Most of the patrons pack up their things, only leaving a few stragglers behind.

-

By now, all of the wait staff had clocked out and left long ago. The clock read a depressing ‘2:23’ as you wipe down your workstation with a damp towel, sweeping the crumbs and leftover trash into the floor. Sukuna is busy finishing off the tills, counting the last of the register’s change. The dishwasher is finally packing his things, heading to the front computer to clock out with a tired ‘see ya’.

You were busy sweeping around your station, leading all the way to the walk in.

“Move,” he says, grabbing the back of your pants by the belt loop and pulling him behind you. You quickly look around to see if anyone noticed his touch, sighing with relief as you realize you two were the only ones still on the clock. He had a piece of paper in one hand, reaching up with the other to remove the thumbtacks from the old schedule on the bulletin board in front of you two. You glance at the schedule and your neck nearly cracks with how hard you do a double-take. You expected your usual 8-4, maybe some 9-5 shifts on the days you usually worked. But this new schedule has you scheduled for nights only. Conveniently, nights that Sukuna is the manager. You peer at the schedule, looking for the large, bold-printed ‘OFF’, and you see that you’re off in two days. You look at the top of the schedule, nothing that Sukuna’s ‘OFF’ day is the same day, too.

Sukuna had already started to walk off as you processed this new schedule. You take a step towards him, grabbing his forearm in an attempt to pull him back to you. His walk is so confident and assured that he pulls you almost an entire step forward before he turns on his heels, suddenly mere inches from your space. His proximity has you at a loss for words, mouth agape as you search your mind for whatever it was you were about to say.

“Yes?” He asks, a slight tug at the corner of his mouth daring to turn into a smile.

“U-uh.. sorry, why did you schedule me for n-nights?” You mutter, spiteful at how the words seemed to die in your throat.

He takes a step back, releasing his arm from your gasp as he straightens his tie, giving you room to finally breathe.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that the employee that called out earlier has the flu.”

“But-“ you try to interject.

“She won’t be in the rest of the week, and how you’re looking at me right now tells me you’d like to be here with me again tomorrow,” is all he says before he’s returning to his office, crumbling up the old schedule as he’s closing the door behind him.

You clear your throat, trying to regather your dignity as you continue sweeping. You were frustrated with how much of an affect he has over you in the short amount of time, but your interactions throughout the day has left you craving more of his presence. His touch still lingers on your skin, reminding you just how often he had touched you during the shift.

You start to gather the trash in the dustpan, standing up to turn around to Sukuna leaving his office. Your breath hitches in your throat as he walks out in nothing but a black tank top, silver chain adorning his neck. You have full view of his numerous tattoos trailing down his arms, over his shoulders, even some that look like they might reach down his chest. He was walking to lock up the front as you finished sweeping and mopping. You grip the broom tighter, trying to ground yourself. Your body temperature was higher than usual and your hands were so sweaty. It felt all too hot in the restaurant, even hotter than it felt with the rest of the kitchen staff on the clock, ovens and fryers ablaze. You take a deep breath and lean the broom against the wall, heading for the back door. You needed some air and being in the same building as Sukuna made you feel like you had to fight for breath.

The cool air instantly calms your nerves as you walk to the side of the building, leaning down to put your hands on your knees. You take a deep breath, running your sweaty palms on your jeans. You had to get yourself together, you tell yourself over and over again. Regardless of how good he looked, how… intrigued he made you feel, you were stuck with him for the rest of the week. You couldn’t take a smoke break every time Sukuna cut his eyes at you or let his hands invade your personal space. While you couldn’t lie to yourself like you didn’t enjoy it, you’re still a grown woman that wouldn’t be caught dead melting under another man’s touch so easily. You preferred things the other way around, enjoying the power you felt when you -

SLAM!

A loud, resounding boom echoed through the parking lot as Sukuna crosses your peripheral, two full, black trash bags slung over his shoulder. He fails to notice you around the side of the building in the dim light before he reaches the dumpster, flinging both heavy bags into the can with ease.

He startles slightly as he sees you, fully expecting you to be inside the restaurant finishing your sweeping. You were too busy admiring him to process that the door had slammed. As in, shut. As in, no way to get back into the building unless Sukuna has the keys, shut. You both seem to realize your grim fate simultaneously, eyes widening as you scramble to find the answers you both needed. You take steps towards him as he’s rushing to you, frantically searching his pockets.

“Please tell me you have the keys-“

“Since when are you outside?”

“Do you not have the keys? How are we supposed-“

“You were supposed to be inside, y/n,” he interrupts yet again, turning out every pocket in search of the large loop of miscellaneous keys. His face is flushed as he peers down at you, obviously embarrassed he was so foolish to trust you’d be inside the restaurant and irresponsible enough to leave the back door without the keys in hand.

He sighs as do you, unsure of what step to take next. He starts pacing, hands running through his hair as he searches for a solution. You gasp quietly, searching your pockets and praising god your phone was still on you. You rescind that praise when you realize that was the only one of your belongings you had. No keys, wallet, purse, anything. In your panic, you rush to the back door, putting all of your body weight into twisting and pulling the handle. It’s locked without a shadow of a doubt, but Sukuna still shoves you to the side as he attempts to open the door. Although his strength seems incomprehensible, he still struggled to open the door. Every muscle in his arms, back, and chest were rippling and contorting as he fully leans back with force in an attempt to rip the door from its hinges. Nothing.

“What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” You ask, dumbfounded at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

He huffs, leaning against the wall beside you as he puts his hand into his pocket, still silently hoping the keys would magically appear.

“What all did you have left in there?”

“Uh, just the sweeping and mopping. Did you finish the tills?” You ask, trying to assess the damage that the morning shift would be subject to.

“Yeah, yeah all my shit’s done, just had to do the fuckin’ trash. Shit.” He curses, rubbing his face in his hands.

You hadn’t realized just how close you two were now. There was still plenty of breathing room between the two of you, but as you both lean against the wall, his arm brushes yours and both of you linger at the contact, consciously continuing the skin on skin exposure.

Sukuna had plenty of plans that were so rudely interrupted by the stupid fucking door. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and how your hands felt on his length, how you looked up at him, hopeful that he would do something more to you. He had plans of ravishing you in the restaurant - partly to boost his ego, and partly to have you reminisce on the experience each time you walked into the building, with or without him. But all plans were effectively crushed as soon as that back door shut.

“Do you not make it a habit to keep the keys on you? Like, at all times?” You ask, confused as to why he would leave them sitting around anyway.

He turns to face you, rolling his eyes as he does so.

“No, I don’t keep the thirty-pound key ring on me at all times. You’re the one that came out here without letting me know!” He adds, throwing his hands in the air, trying to find anyone to blame except himself.

You scoff, surprised he was trying to turn this on you, “Well I needed some fucking air. You want me to tell you every time I go to the walk in or the bathroom, too?”

He laughs, offended, “You need to tell me when you leave the premises. The premises being the inside of the restaurant.”

You start to respond before he’s interrupting you per usual, closing in on your space as he places his right hand to the side of your head, leaning it on the wall to face you directly. You avert your gaze, embarrassed at how meek you felt when he looked at you in this way. But you knew he wanted you, at least in some way - that you knew for sure.

“Why did you need air? Closin’ too much for you, huh little baby? Can’t handle all that… responsibility?” He asks, making your knees almost buckle. Sure, girl was one thing, but baby?

But you still had to hold your ground.

“I am perfectly capable of closing, thank you. I needed a break from you,” you admit, not realizing how harsh it sounded until after you spoke it.

And he is appalled. With the way you were acting, you seemed like a break was the last thing you needed.

“A break? From me? What makes you think that, hm?” He asks as you still avoid his gaze, eyes glued to the way his chest moved in an even, up-down motion as he took steady breaths.

“W-Well, I -“

“Uh uh. Look at me when you speak, y/n,” he commands, taking just his pointer finger to draw your chin up to him, meeting your eyes with his.

“I-I dunno’, you just make me feel… weird? Not bad weird, just… different,” You admit, trying to say anything but ‘you make me wet’. Your response makes him chuckle.

He reaches his hand towards your forehead, prodding it with an exaggerated poke as he asks, “Do I make you feel weird here?”

You smile, furrowing your brows as you let out a simple ‘no’ with a shrug. He nods in understanding, motioning for you to follow him as he grabs your wrist. He pulls you around the side of the building, in an area much darker than previously. You look around as your back meets the wall, noting how the only visible cameras were pointing at the spot you two just occupied. Sukuna moves closer to you, leaving multiple points of contact between you two as you mentally count them all - how his knee is between your legs, how his hand that was on the wall before is now back, but much closer to your head, resting somewhat on your shoulder, how his other hand has now left your wrist, being replaced on your hipbone. His thumb presses in, harder than you think he realizes, and with how pent up you’ve been feeling it takes a great deal of strength not to ravish him on the spot.

He leaves his hand there for a brief moment before he takes the same thumb and slides it along your stomach, stopping when he reaches your navel. His thumb shifts only an inch downwards before he presses into the squish underneath your belly button multiple times, akin to a doctor feeling for abnormalities.

“If it’s not your head… is it here?” He asks with a particularly hard jab for emphasis.

“I make you feel weird in your tummy? Hm?” He finishes with a smirk, now soothing his pokes and prods with gentle circles traced with his thumb.

If you thought you were plenty wet earlier, you had no idea what this type of touch would do to you. He wasn’t even touching you anywhere important yet, leaving you stuck trying to suppress even a hint of a whine from escaping. Your clit was pulsing with your heartbeat which was at an all time high. It’s almost as if Sukuna realizes this as you do, chuckling as he moves his two fingers and thumb up to your neck, wrapping around it slightly as he searches for your pulse. Worry flashes across his face for but a moment before he’s laughing again, removing his hand before he reiterates his question with a simple ‘yes or no?’.

“A-A little, yeah,” you admit and your breath hitches at his response.

His voice was darker now, barely audible over the hum of the street light.

“Oh, I see,” he says as he dares to reach his hand lower, impossibly lower. You refuse to let your eyes trail, instead relying on the feeling of his single fingernail scraping through the outside of your clothes before he stops at your belt.

He catches you off guard, moving a mere inch away from your face as he cups your jaw, pulling you into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. You barely have time to react, kissing him with your eyes widened in shock. He pulls away too quickly, only allowing you to taste him for a short second before he continues his diagnostics.

‘S’not your head, not really your tummy,” dragging out the vowels in ‘really’ to make you wait another second longer.

His hand cups you through your pants, immediately rubbing small circles beneath your mound, stimulating your clit so roughly with the seam of your jeans you have to grab onto his arm for leverage.

“Must be your cunt causin’ all these problems,” he finishes as he meets your lips with his again, all tongue and teeth - which was a necessity for the both of you at this point. The tension that built slowly throughout the night had left you both eager for one another, and it was obvious with how frantic you were for him, whining as you throw your other arm over his shoulder to bring him even closer than he already was. You feel his now half-hard length push into your upper thigh before you reach your hand down to play with the hem of his pants. His abdomen clenches under your touch, rigid muscles flexing enough to be noticed through his tight shirt.

His hand that had found place in your hair tugs lightly as he pulls away from your lips, instead kissing along your cheek towards your ear.

“I thought this was all about her,” he whispers, pushing his two middle fingers harshly into your clit for emphasis, rubbing down firmly on your bundle of nerves as you threaten to fall apart.

“But now you wanna’ be greedy again? You already got to touch me once, y/n,” and you can hear the smile on his face as he says it, “If she’s the one makin’ you feel weird, maybe she’s the one that deserves my attention, yeah? Don’t you want me to make her feel better?” He says, swirling his tongue on the shell of your ear before biting your lobe, playfully pulling it until it snaps back into place. He knows your answer without hearing it, even before the furious nod of your head in agreeance.

He has you so pliant, so willing underneath him. You can’t resist bucking your hips into his hands when he fiddles with the buttons on your jeans, unzipping your pants ever so slowly before he has his mouth on your neck again, sucking and leaving marks that’d be sure to stay for days.

In the suspended unzipping, your mind wanders to the last time you’ve had sex with someone. It had been so many months, you weren’t sure if you remembered who it was. You cared less and less about how things looked down there, shaving every now and then when you got the urge. Which leads you to your current predicament.

“S-Sukuna, I.. I haven’t shaved. In like, a-a week or two,” you stutter quickly, trying to get the words out before he discovers on his own.

His fingers dip beneath your panties regardless, palm flattening against your lower stomach to reach down towards your heat. He lets out a grunt as he finally makes contact with your mound, stating a blunt, “good,” in response to your previous admission.

His long, deft fingers reach further to part your slit, his middle finger running through your folds to gather your slick as he works hard to keep his eyes from rolling into his skull.

“Knew I wouldn’t need any spit, ain’t that right?” He coos, not expecting anything but a gasp from you as his finger makes contact with your clit, finally.

And by god, how have you never been touched like this before?

His fingers rub you so skillfully, even better than you were able to. You were no stranger to masturbation, but the way his fingers felt on you now was unlike anything you’ve felt before. He circled your clit with planned, assured movements - if the smug look on his face wasn’t enough to show you just how confident he was in his ability to please you. His touch was perfect - no movement too under or overstimulating. He was so carefully bringing you closer to your peak with each intoxicating circle, steadily building his pace as he watched you fall victim to your pleasure with each passing moment. His lips are latched to your chest now, his other hand undoing just enough buttons so he can grab you properly without your pesky clothes in the way. He pulls your restrictive sports bra down with a harsh tug, freeing your tits for only a second before his mouth is latched to you, pulling and sucking at your nipples.

“Can’t believe - mmph, you’ve been.. hiding these from me,” he says, entranced at how the light hits your chest as it heaves up and down, your frantic breathing becoming more erratic and choppy, signaling your oncoming breaking point.

“K-Kuna, I’m -“ you try to warn him that you wouldn’t last much longer until your breath is ripped from your lungs.

“How cute,” he says, chastising the nickname you gave him. In one fluid motion, he takes his two middle fingers and slides them down and inside of you, replacing his thumb on your clit, quickly continuing the dizzying circles on your bud as he pumps into you - one thrust, then another, and you lose it entirely as he clamps down on your nipple with his teeth. You look down at him, making brief eye contact before involuntarily letting your eyes roll back, your lip pinched between your teeth as you succumb to the pleasure he so expertly gave you.

He looked surprised that you were finishing so quickly, eyes wide when you look down at him as you clamp so tightly around his digits. You continue clamping around him repeatedly as you ride out your orgasm, becoming louder by the second before he kisses you again, attempting to stifle your moans from echoing in the vacant lot. With one final swipe of your clit he pulls his hand free, immediately backing away to suck you off of his own fingers, grunting once he finally gets a taste of you properly. As if on instinct, his hand snakes his way underneath your panties again to caress your pussy, rubbing his hand in sloppy motions to coat himself in your juices thoroughly. He pulls away again, licking his fingers one by one with an eager grin.

“Ever had a taste?” He asks, wiping his filthy mouth clean.

To be fair, you had, but you wanted to see what he’d do if you said no. So you did.

He responds by taking your chin in his still wet hand, lolling his tongue out as he ravishes you in an open-mouthed kiss. You return the gesture, tasting yourself from his mouth and you were shocked at how intoxicating it was. How intoxicating he was. You so desperately want to return the favor, and then some.

He has the back of your head grasped in his palm but you resist, trying to get the words out as he all but devours you, groping your tits and reaching a hand behind you to grab your ass in a large, firm hold.

“Can I - mmph, can I.. be greedy… now?” You manage to get out before you reach down to palm his length, to which Sukuna lets out a focused, long breath through his nose. He pulls away from you with a smirk, hips leaning towards your touch.

“Dunno’ if I should - mmh.. let you, hah. I wasn’t tryna’ make you cum yet,” he admits, looking down with a ‘phew’ as you hook your fingers tantalizingly under his waistband, pulling him closer.

“That was you trying to make me not cum?” You ask with a laugh.

“Not yet. Wanted to make you wait for it, but you’re too much of a brat to be patient. You've been one ever since you showed up tonight,” he says and to prove his point further, you grab him by the arms and spin the two of you around, gingerly pushing him against the wall. He makes a face like he’s unimpressed before he reaches to the back of his tank top to pull it over his head. You gawk at his musculature and even more tattoos that are revealed to you as he throws the shirt at your feet.

He reaches down to undo his belt, the loud clang of the metal sending chills down your spine. You look down at the shirt then at him, shooting him a questioning look as he looks like he’s waiting for something.

“For your knees, stupid,” he says and as if on command, you drop to your knees onto his shirt, placing your palms in your lap in anticipation. You subconsciously lick your lips as he unzips his pants ever so slowly.

He stops his movements, grabbing the top of your head to tilt it upwards at him, “If you’re that desperate, you can get it out yourself,” he says with a pat of your head. He leans back onto the wall further, crossing his arms over his cold chest as he waits.

You smooth your hands over the top of his briefs and across his happy trail, dipping your fingers below the waistband before you ask, “How long has it been?”

The question takes him aback as his breath catches in his throat. He tries to still his hips from pushing into your feather-light touch but it’s inescapable. It had been a while for him, too.

“A minute,” is all he offers before you reach up to press a wet kiss to his lower abdomen as you pull his briefs down over his length. You pull for so much longer than you assumed you’d have to; after what seemed like so many inches his cock finally springs free, lazily jerking up as it hits the cool air. If it wasn’t for the heavy mass, his dick would stand at attention in front of you. You grab him in your palm, shocked at the sheer weight present in your hand. His angry tip was beading precum as you slowly worked your hand up and down his shaft, sticking your tongue out below him to catch it before it drips.

He starts to speak before you interrupt him, “I’m gonna’ try to make you not cum, okay?” He peers down hungrily at you, cock twitching at your filthy words. You take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue to gather the bittersweet precum before you start to suck. You feel as if you can only take a few inches of him before he’s already prodding the back of your throat, making you cough around him.

“Don’t wimp out on me now, woman,” he says, grabbing himself at his base with a squeeze, using his thumb to line himself up with your throat perfectly.

“You wanna take my dick then fuckin’ take it,” he adds, grabbing the back of your hair to tilt your head back and your chin up towards him. He hums to you a simple ‘relax’ as he slowly pushes his length further into your throat, stopping when he meets a resistance with a throaty groan that has you whining around him, too. He tried his best to keep quiet, but your watery eyes and furrowed brows looking up at him with his dick shoved down your throat made his resolve disappear.

“Breathe,” he commands as he slips out of your throat, leaving you a coughing, sputtering mess with your lips still pressed against his tip. You follow his lead, taking a deep breath in and out before he pulls your mouth open with a thumb on your chin.

“Deeper this time, yeah?” He asks, quickly shoving his length further than before, nearly balls deep into your throat as your eyes shoot open and you swallow on instinct, earning a breathy ‘fuck’ from the man above you. You breathe out slowly through your nose, focusing your mind on doing anything but gagging. You squeeze his thighs to anchor yourself, pulling back from him almost entirely with a gasp before you force your head down again. You feel your throat start to relax as you continue your slow back and forth motion, trying to take him deeper with every thrust into your mouth. His hips are bucking lazily now as he tries his hardest to be somewhat gentle. As gentle as a man can be with a hand gripping your hair and the other guiding his monstrously large cock into your wet heat.

“Hah, l-look at you. I’ll have that throat trained for me in no time,” he praises, admiring how incredible you look as you throat him, watching how the dim parking lot lighting illuminates you enough for him to see the noticeable bulge in your neck. He can’t help but thrust more powerfully now, seeing as you were already taking his dick with ease after such a short amount of time. You meet his thrusts with your hand wrapping around the remainder of his shaft, stroking what you couldn’t reach with your mouth.

You pull off from him and you swear he pouts, bucking into your continued stroking as you kiss his tip.

“Who says I need my throat trained for you? Who says this will ever happen again?” You ask, curious how he would react.

He laughs, biting his lip to hide the moan that nearly slips.

“Oh, s-so you don’t want me to fuck you?” And he had you there. You start to run your hand furiously over his weeping tip and the sudden increase in sensation has him buckling over, mouth agape as heaving breaths signal how close he is. You’re barely able to suck his tip again before he’s removing your hands, pushing you back to sit on your feet.

“Fuck..y/n, open up,” he says as he strokes his length meticulously, grunts leaving his mouth as his fingers run over the tip repeatedly, “gonna’ paint that - fuck, pretty.. fuckin’ face,” he manages, smiling with an almost pained look as you loll your tongue out obediently. He can’t warn you any further before he’s cumming, white hot liquid pouring into your mouth as you jump in surprise at the sheer volume. With each spurt he’s moaning, strings of profanities leaving his lips as he sees white. You reach your hand up to finish the job, giving him a few final strokes before you suck on his tip a final time, swallowing his gift for you with a smile on your face. You wipe the remainder of your face with your sleeves as you stand to your feet.

“Come here,” he says, drunk on the feeling still as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss.

You pull away, “Now what?”

He chuckles, “hah, we go home,” he says, checking his watch that reads a depressing ‘3:17’, “unless you need my dick that bad.”

While you did actually need his dick that bad, that wasn’t the problem bothering you in the moment.

“Sukuna, I don’t have my keys. Just my phone,” you offer. He reaches down to dust off his shirt before he puts it back on. He motions for you to follow him as he grabs his keys out of his pocket.

“Guess you’re getting what you want after all.”

(pt. 2 in the works)

[gublershrry]

Every Breath You Take • B.E.

Part 2! Part one here

Summary: idk read part 1 first

Warnings: psycho!billie, murder, violence, no smut but sexual tension

A/n: eh idk how i feel ab this but i might lowkey make this a series cus i love writing psycho!billie its so fun. PLS comment if you would be at all interested in that!!

If nobody is gonna read it I’m not gonna plan out a whole series so either leave a comment or leave an anon or something! Also i like that attention so everyone should comment or leave an anon anyways 😊

It had been 2 weeks after your boyfriend died. 2 weeks of confusion and sadness. 2 weeks of you being horrified of what happened and if you were next. The police found his body in what they said was “the most gruesome and awful” condition. The thought that someone could do this was terrifying to you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that someone could do this to another human. You were grieving.

The only person that seemed to understand was your neighbor, Billie.

When you got the news of his passing, you were outside watering your flowerbed. Immediately you broke down, sobbing loudly in your front lawn. Embarrassing, yes, but you couldn’t help it. Billie happened to be outside working out. It’s like she was always there when you needed her most, you thought. She saw you crumble to the ground and quickly took her headphones off, running across the street to your aid.

“Hey, hey, baby what happened?” You hear her behind you, her hands on your shoulder. Her thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder blades. You were able to stutter through your cries that the police had contacted you.

You told her your boyfriend had been murdered.

You heard Billie sigh, and then she leaned in to kiss the top of your spine.

“I’m so sorry, angel. Let’s go inside, hm? I’ll make you coffee. You need to relax.”

So you let her bring you inside, let her fix you up a cup of coffee and some snacks, and you both sat on your couch, turning on the news to see if there was anything about the murder. You snuggled up into Billie’s arm, unable to sit alone to watch it.

You couldn’t be alone. You needed her. You needed Billie.

So when the news said there were no leads, and it seemed to be so animalistic that they thought wolves could’ve done it, Billie snuggled you tighter.

She knew she wouldn’t get caught. She’d been pulling this off for years. Why would they get her now? And even if this matched the M.O. from her past murders, she’s in a new state, a new town, and it had been 2 years.

Plus, they always blamed it on the animals in the woods. That’s why she always picked rural places to move to.

So while you used Billie to cope for the next few weeks, you really started to fall for her. She would scratch your back, comforting you when you were sad. You even opened up to her about your personal life. Your family, your job, even how your ex (can you say that now?) boyfriend was abusive.

Of course, Billie knew all of this already. She knew everything about you. But you didn’t need to know that. Instead, she’d hum, stroking your hair and telling you that you can trust her. And you could, because she was really starting to fall for you too. Everything was perfectly falling into place. Finally, she could have you to herself.

“Come over to mine tonight.” Billie said softly, leaving your house one morning after you made her pancakes and hot chocolate. You smiled. You had never been to her house. You didn’t really think anything of it, you didn’t feel like she was hiding anything from you, but you were excited. You finally got to see more of her. It made you happy.

“I’m off work at 6, is that okay?”

She smiles, gently grabbing your face to kiss your forehead.

“I don’t want to wait that long, but I guess I will. Want me to pick you up from work?” You chuckle. How did you get so lucky? The girl was so sweet, she was perfect.

“If you want, but I don’t want you going all tha-”

Billie cuts you off.

“I want. I’ll see you at 6, angel.”

And so you went off to work, and she walked home.

And for the next 7 hours of her day, she did nothing.

She wondered her house way too many times, perfecting each picture frame and candle and dusting off every surface. She wanted you to love it there. She wanted it to be like another home to you. Finally, 5:00 came around. She went to get ready, showering and doing her hair. She changed her clothes, putting on something comfortable but stylish, and got into her car. You texted her the address earlier in the day, but she already knew it.

As she drives towards your work, she stops at a small drive thru coffee shop, getting you a little pick me up. She pulled into your job parking lot at 5:58, parked, and waited patiently. When she sees you come out of the doors, she smiles to herself. Even when you were exhausted, you looked beautiful. As soon as you get in the car, you spot the coffee Billie got you, and you can’t wipe your smile off of your face.

“Thank you Billie, I had a really bad day.”

Billie’s heart clenches.

“Wanna talk while I drive us home? I’m all ears for you.”

And she really was all ears, turning down the music as you rant about some shitty coworker who made your life a living hell. It wasn’t that bad, but after the past few weeks, it was really your final straw. Billie doesn’t say anything, she just listens and nods her head after every few sentences.

“But, it’s okay though, ‘cause now I’m with you!” You say, smiling with your teeth on full display. Billie looks at you, and she feels her heart race.

“I’ll make your day better, sweetheart. Just wait ‘til we get home.”

As soon as you two walk in the door and you set down your purse on her kitchen island, you admire her house. It really is beautiful. It feels so homey; the family photos, pictures of her childhood pets, her and friends on various vacations. You walk around, taking in all of the plants she had scattered around, and all of the color that she used while decorating.

“You like it?” She asks, standing by the table.

“It’s gorgeous. You really have a knack for interior design!”

Billie just chuckles and walks up behind you, gently putting her hands on your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Wanna get a bit more comfortable?”

You turn around, smiling, and ask for a pair of pajama pants. She comes back with 2 pairs in different colors - one pink and one black - and a tank top for you as well.

“Take your pick. The bathroom to change is down that hallway and to the left.” She points.

You bite your lip, thinking about how she might react if you just changed in front of her. You know it’s not that crazy, I mean friends change in front of each other all the time, but you wanted her to know how you felt. You wanted her to know your body. You wanted her to think you’re sexy.

You wanted her.

As she turned to walk into the kitchen, getting something to drink, you turn your back to her. You start with your shirt, lifting it over your head slowly. You can hear the water coming out of the fridge, so you can’t tell if she’s watching yet. You slide the tank top on, and move to your pants.

You unbutton them, and then lean forward, slowly peeling them down your legs. You hear the water glass hit the counter harshly, making you jump.

“Couldn’t make it to the bathroom?” You hear Billie ask sarcastically.

“Thought you’d wanna see, I’m sorry.” You say shyly, not turning around but instead bending over farther, your ass on plain display in the cutest pair of heart-covered panties.

“Well, I never told you to stop.” She says. You can hear her pull out a barstool, presumably sitting down to watch you.

Billie’s head is spinning. She had no idea how dirty you really were. I mean, she watched you from the window, doing this exact same thing, but now that it was right in front of her? Truly for her? She was going to have an aneurysm.

You pull on the pink pajama pants, slightly jumping to get them over your butt. When you bend back down to pick up your clothes, you feel Billie’s presence behind you. She lightly traces her finger down your spine as you’re bent over in front of her, and you freeze. You feel her crotch connect to your ass. Her finger goes all the way down to the waistband of your underwear, and she toys with it, lifting it so it snaps back down onto your sensitive skin. You jump.

“You’re so pretty.” She whispers. She hears your breath pick up.

“You think so?”

“I know so, baby. Now let’s go watch a movie.” She pats your ass, making you yelp, and you hear her breathe out a laugh at the noise.

If it were up to Billie, she would’ve had you in about 12 positions already. But she wants to take her time with you. She wants to do it right. She needs to.

You both move to the couch, and you snuggle up next to her as she chooses something to watch. When you both decide on a show, you wiggle your head into her neck, and she lightly scratches your back and scalp.

The innocent noises you make from that drive her wild, but she knows you’re not doing it on purpose. Your hand rests on her thigh, rubbing circles with your thumb. Billie can’t think straight.

Well, actually, there’s one thing she can think straight about.

How she’s going to kill that bitch of a coworker that ruined your day.

You sigh in contentment, happy with where your life has taken you. You have a sweet, sweet neighbor, who you might fall in love with. Who gets that lucky? You don’t even think she would hurt a fly. You watch her eyebrows twitch as she focuses on the show.

“I really like you, Billie.” You say softly, almost embarrassed. She turns her head and hums, either from not hearing you or because she wants to hear it again.

“I said, I really like you, Billie.” Your giggles soak into her brain, and she smiles.

“I really like you, too. You have no idea how much I would do for you.”

You giggle a little more and Billie squeezes your hip playfully.

“Well, then do it all for me!”

She looks at you, enamored by the glimmer in your eyes. She leans in, your foreheads touching. She can feel your heart beating out of your chest.

“Don’t worry baby, I will.” She whispers out before leaning in, gently capturing your lips in hers. Your brain turns to mush, her pillowy lips encasing yours. Your tongues mingle for just a second before she pulls away, leaving you breathless.

“Now, watch the show.”

So you do, not knowing that 4 days later, the girl driving you wild with a simple kiss would kidnap and murder your coworker so you didn’t deal with her bullying anymore.

You had no idea that Billie would drag her into the same basement, blasting old rap music this time, and carve the heart right out of that little bitch’s chest. She told you she couldn’t see you that night, she had her own work thing to attend with her brother, something about a studio.

It was hard for you to pay attention when the girl talking to you was so beautiful.

And it was hard for Billie to pay attention to your coworker in front of her, because all she could think about was your pretty little body, your bright eyes, and your smile.

But alas, she thought about the ugly whore in front of her long enough to kill her, hide the body, and clean up before she came over to your house late, telling you that she just got home from the studio and couldn’t go another minute without you.

“You’re really the sweetest, Billie. I mean it.”

She smiles.

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

And when the news blasted the story of the missing girl, Billie was the one you ran to. Billie was the one that held you tight, kissing your head and whispering sweet nothings into your ears, telling you everything would be okay. She promised you that you would be okay.

Billie didn’t have to feign sadness, seeing you this sad was heartbreaking for her. She didn’t kill for you so you could be sad. She killed for you so bad people were out of your life.

She only wanted what was best for you! You knew that, you could tell that Billie really cared about you. She always wanted you to be okay, always asked about how you were feeling and how your day went. She was so caring, so passionate toward you.

You really might be falling in love with her.

A week after your coworker was “found dead in the woods, possibly by animals again,” the town went back to normal. You went back to work, with Billie dropping you off and picking you up every day. You thought you’d have to beg her to agree to doing it, but it was a lot easier than you thought. Not only did you just enjoy spending time with her, but you were scared to be alone. You didn’t want to die, not by the hands of animals or a crazy killer on the loose, whatever it was.

Billie agreed, saying it’s for the best if she keeps a watchful eye on you.

So on you two went with your lives, busy with each other and busy with yourselves. Work kept you occupied, unable to think too much about how two people in your life had vanished. And you kept Billie occupied, as she made mental notes of who you talked to, who you liked, and who you didn’t.

Specifically the last one on that list.

[ckret2]

✨⚠️ Wasting Away Again in the Goldilocks Zone ⚠️✨

If you're new here, this is one of those "human Bill in the Mystery Shack" redemption fics, you know the drill: Bill illegally escapes death via reincarnation; the Shack crew imprisons him til they can figure out how to kill him; but they won't, because Bill's gonna make friends with them and literally everybody else in town. Whether they like it or not.

Featuring!! The slowest redemption arc you've ever read; "human" Bill that doesn't decide being trapped in an alien body is fine; show-style episodic plot structure; individual plot arcs for characters you've never even cared about; so canon compatible we even include the dang coloring book; and so TBOB-compatible over a year before TBOB came out that I'm considering taking up a position as the Oracle of Delphi just so Apollo stops barraging me with dodgeballs.

New chapters every other Friday, 5pm CST! Old chapters edited, updated, and posted to AO3 on the alternating Fridays! Yes that's a chapter either on here or on AO3 every week! Yes that includes this week!

For art, doodles, upcoming scene excerpts, and posts about characterization & plot plans, see my #bill goldilocks cipher tag. For the fic itself, the first few chapters are on AO3, but tumblr's 60 chapters ahead:

⛓️ 1 Part 1. Bill returns, in a bedsheet toga.

⛓️ 1 Part 2. Bill tries to murder the Stans & Soos (with time travel).

⛓️ 2. Dipper and Mabel save the day (with time travel).

⛓️ 3. A tense evening as the Pines prepare to get rid of Bill.

⛓️ 4. Plot twist: the Pines physically can't get rid of Bill.

⛓️ 5. The gang goes to a diner at 3 a.m. for hostage negotiations.

⛓️ 6. Bill escapes from Theraprism. [NEW!!!]

⛓️ 7. "How'd Bill get here" flashback; plus, entering his new prison.

💇‍♀️ 8. Bill gives himself a haircut and depression.

💇‍♀️ 9. Bill & Ford grudgingly have a sincere conversation; regret it.

💇‍♀️ 10. The kids decide Bill won't ruin their summer. Also: Pacifica!

🧚 11. Mabel gives Bill the most beautiful makeover ever. (It's not.)

🧚 12. Pacifica advertises Harry's Hairy Fairy Formula. Bill wants it.

🧚 13. Pacifica refuses to share; the twins discover its side effects.

📓🔺📓 TBOB BOUNDARY: Everything above this line has been edited for 100% compatibility with The Book Of Bill and posted to AO3! Everything after this line has not been edited... so it's only 98% TBOB compatible. 📓🔺📓

🧚 14. Mabel wins Bill's eternal friendship with arts & crafts.

💭 15. Bill, Ford, and Dipper have nightmares that are Bill's fault.

💎 16. Ford has a fun day with Mabel but everything goes wrong.

💎 17. The day goes right again thanks to healthy communication.

🎥 18. Mabel's Guide To Local Animals, co-starring Bill Cipher.

🧊 19. Wendy snoops into the weird things happening in the shack.

🧊 20. Wendy meets the weird thing (it's Bill).

🎂 21. Stan & Ford's birthday party! Bill gives evil gifts.

💭 22. Bill "helps" Dipper's nightmares; no one knows his motive.

👁️ 23. Bill's ex is back in town and nobody's happy about it.

👁️ 24. Everyone's even less happy to learn Bill has a sex life.

🧿 25. Mabel and Bill make friendship bracelets! :)

🧿 26. The Pines take Bill to the mall. He wears terrible things.

🧿 27. Bill breaks Mabel's heart (and panics to fix it).

🏳️‍🌈 28. Bill talks his way into going with Wendy to Rainbow Club.

🎃 29. Bill contacts the Henchmaniacs on Summerween morning.

🎃 30. Costume making. Mabel pries into Bill's past, with crayons.

🎃 31. The Trickster's pals trick-or-treat; and Bill terrifies Dipper.

🪮 32. Dipper & Mabel make a poppet to control Bill.

🦷 33. Stan takes Bill to the dentist. In handcuffs.

🦷 34. Dentist & tooth fairy attack. Stan & Bill are still handcuffed.

🦷 35. Bill & Stan reach a painful understanding and stop the fairy.

🛁 36. Anime night; and Mabel makes Bill do community service.

🛁 37. Bill plots escape and runs into Wendy. Dipper panics.

🛁 38. Bill has the worst and stupidest day of his afterlife.

🌅 39. A cultist finds Bill; Bill tries to re-recruit Ford.

🚙 40. Gideon broadcasts car commercials; invokes Bill's wrath.

🚙 41. Bill apologizes for bullying Gideon. lol no he blackmails him.

🌕 42. Bill tells Dipper secrets of the universe; predicts an eclipse.

🌖 43. Gravity is disappearing; Ford and Fiddleford investigate.

🌗 44. Ford & Dipper drag Bill hiking; Bill faces his death.

🌘 45. Ford demands answers Bill can't give as totality looms.

🌑 46. Totality. Bill decides whether Ford lives or dies.

🌒 47. Bill feels rotten but finally explains the eclipse.

🌓 48. Bill has a complete mental breakdown.

🌔 49. The gang limps home. (Plus: a second dimensional eclipse.)

💿 50. Bill finally processes that mental breakdown.

💿 51. Dipper and Mabel try to remember the Axolotl's poem.

📖 52. The gang reads Flatworld. Bill isn't thrilled.

📖 53. Mabel tries to get Bill to talk about his home world.

⚛️ 54. Dipper, Ford, and Fiddleford do paradox physics.

📖 55. Mabel learns college-level geometry.

📖 56. Mabel & Bill have fun; Dipper & Ford prepare for murder.

💀 57. The execution of Bill Cipher.

💀 58. Everything you wondered about how Bill escaped.

💀 59. Everything you didn't wonder about how Bill escaped.

💀 60. Everything you never imagined about how Bill escaped.

✨✨ THE APOXOLOTLYPSE ✨✨

🪐 61. The Axolotl finds the second dimension's corpse. ✨

🪐 62. The 2D massacre is so much worse than the Ax thought.

🪐 63. A building inspection in the Nightmare Realm.

🪐 64. Even when Bill fixes things he breaks them.

🪐 65. A shape meets Bill as the world burns.

🪐 66. The gods & Bill negotiate him leaving Dimension Zero.

🪐 67. The gods deal with Bill not leaving Dimension Zero.

🪐 68. Bill is so much worse than the Ax thought.

🪐 69. THE END: the gods and Bill settle into a new status quo.

📙 70. Soos vacuums the attic (wow exciting)

📙 71. Soos decides how he feels about Bill's treatment.

📙 72. Fixin it with Soos: home redecorating!

🎥 73. The gang makes plans for the night.

🎥 74. Dipper's Guide to the Fremont Nightwigglers

🎥 75. Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers

🎥 76. The aftermath of everybody pulling all-nighters.

🏖️ 77. Beach episode! The Pines fish! Bill tans!

🏖️ 78. Bigfoot, Agent Powers, and the cool teen gang.

Hey!! I posted chapters 61-69 AFTER this chapter, so if you've been reading along and HAVEN'T seen those yet, go back and make sure you've read them!

🏖️ 79. A post-fishing trip evening. The calm before the feds.

🕴️ 80. The government investigates the Mystery Shack... again.

🕴️ 81. What are they gonna do about the feds??

🕴️ 82. They're gonna seduce the feds. Bill learns human flirting.

💅 83. Pacifica gives Bill a makeover; decides he's a creep.

💅 84. Pacifica gives Bill a makeover; decides he's cool.

💅 85. Final prep. Hope nothing goes wrong at the last second!

🕴️ 86. Bill does his best to flirt with the world's most boring agent.

🕴️ 87. A dinner date with (and scheming against) Agent Powers.

🕴️ 88. Bill tells the gang how they'll con the hell outta the agents.

🕴️ 89. Bill & Ford go to the museum; get oddly chatty.

🕴️ 90. Powers suspects something's up with "Goldie."

🕴️ 91. Powers has "discovered" who "Goldie" "really" is.

🕴️ 92. The government recovers their flash drive.

COMING SOON:

🕴️ 93. This is how cult recruitment works. (& the gang celebrates!)

The chapters have been renumbered! Chapter 61 about the destruction of Bill's dimension was scheduled to post the week TBOB came out, so I skipped it and posted chapter 62 with Soos. By the time I rewrote chapter 61... it was 9 chapters long. I've now renumbered all the chapters to squeeze in ch 61-69.

This post was last updated April 24, 2025! If you're seeing this post as a reblog and it's been a while since then, check back on the original post to see if more's been added!

[thewritersofdeceased]

Please write about reader who is extremely sensitive and cries about every single thing like reader scrapes her knee? She's crying for like and hour, and then there's vance who has anger management issues but learns to control it for reader.(it's my fav type of things to read about😋)

I LOVE WRITING VANCE GUYS ITS SM FUN FOR ME!! Now, this was fun for me to really think of and to do! Vance with his annoyance when it comes to pain with a reader who cries and is extremely sensitive!? I fuck with that so heavily, so let’s get this show on the row!! 

1/03/25 - IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE, IVE BEEN HYPERFOCUSED ON MY OC'S!! :((

Vance couldn’t understand why Y/N was crying. He was more confused. It was random. Did someone hurt them? With his brow raised, the blonde would cross his arms, entirely focused on trying to make sure his lover was okay. “What happened to you? Was it Moose or one of them?” He questioned, gently holding the other's face and keeping his brow raised. There were only tears that would continue falling down Y/N’s face, their eyes closed. “No-, no. They didn’t-” Their voice was breaking as they covered their eyes with their hands. They were crying. Vance didn’t know why, but he’d kill whoever did it. It wasn’t until Y/N would move their jeans in order to reveal such a stupid thing to cry about.

Vance stared with narrowed eyes, looking at his partner with such a blank looking expression. “...your crying because of a scratch.” He confirmed, raising his brow as Y/N sniffled and nodded their head right after. A low sigh would escape the blonde and he ran a hand through his curls, finding this utterly stupid. Here Vance thought he’d have to beat the living hell out of a man, but to find out it was just a scratch? Letting a sigh out and allowing his curls to fall in front of his eyes slightly, the blonde would kneel down slightly, but not fully as to not deal with the small rocks digging into his knees. “It’s just a scratch, you’ll be fine.” He’d grumble aloud, taking Y/N’s hand into his own and pulling the other up. 

He began to lead the way back to the house, hearing the sniffles of Y/N behind him, which only resulted in sighs every once and a while. He didn’t snap at Y/N, not at all. “It hurts..” The other would speak from behind the blonde, watching as Vance kept looking straight ahead. He didn’t reply for a while, keeping his calm throughout everything. “You’re fine. It’s a single scratch.” At least it hadn’t been a knife. That’s a plus. He continued to lead the way, trying his best to ignore the sniffles from Y/N. “But it hurts.” They’d mutter from behind, continuing to hold onto Vance’s hand as he walked in front, prepared to already pick a fight with anyone who would comment, especially with the way this town was set up. 

People already didn’t like him for his temper, so to see him keeping that burning volcano in the back of his mind on the downlow would ruin the reputation he had built. He was a boy who would kill everyone, or beat the shit out of anyone who dared to say a single word about him or his partner. But crying over a scratch was something he didn’t want anyone to harass the other over. Especially those assholes at the school. “...want me to buy you ice cream after we clean that shit?” He’d ask aloud, looking at the other from over his shoulder. Y/N’s sniffles stopped for a second before in a soft voice, they spoke. “...yeah.. We can hang out at the grab n’ go too..”