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gremlingottoosilly · 9 months ago

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The Art of Hospitality (yan!Nanami x fem!Reader)

Nanami comes home to his favorite roommate. He is hurt and tired...but he knows who will instantly make him feel better. Tags and CW: Yandere, mild dub-con, non-consensual masturbation, Nanami is a panty stealer, light age difference, power imbalance, housewife kink, groping, praise kink AO3

You accidentally took his shirt from the laundry. Nanami thinks it’s an accident – he isn’t sure that you’re dumb enough to genuinely not realize that you were wearing a man’s clothes for a while already, but he doesn’t think you’re brave enough to flirt with him like this either. You’re stuck between being dumb and being too abrasive in your act – and honestly, Kento can deal with the dumb ones. Always a pleasure to spend some time with a person who knows when to shut up.

You look simply divine like this – tugging a shirt that is too big for you in your tiny shorts, carefully rolling the sleeves up so they won’t get splashed while you are doing the dishes. Nanami never asked you to pull up with so many domestic responsibilities – but it was expected. He already allows you to live here without paying rent, so…only natural you’d be his housewife in everything besides affection. He knows how careful he must be – you’re innocent, as some college dropout can be, and you don’t really think of him like that. At least, he thinks you aren’t – he is sure that were you a bit braver, you’d already sleep in his bed instead of a tiny guest bedroom. If you’d wear his shirt on any other day of the week, he would simply note this in his head and proceed with his day. Maybe stare a bit, imagining your curves hidden by the baggy fabric, catching glimpses of skin whenever you roll it up a bit too high. If it was on any other day, he’d just smile and proceed to go to his study.

But you had to pull his shirt out of the laundry on the exact day when he dragged his body home from a particularly nasty fight with a curse. The thing was defeated – something about fear of bug larvae, the sound it made while being dissected by his knife was something that Nanami wouldn’t forget for a long time, even with an ample amount of alcohol. You just had to be cute and adorable and domestic and wear his clothes on a day when he wanted it most. Where all of his desires of retirement amplified, pushing for a fantasy that was just out of reach.

Until he saw you cleaning the dishes with the tenacity of a proper housewife. Nanami knew he had to keep himself in check – knew how much he’d scare you with this. Still, at that moment, he wanted nothing more but to push you on that kitchen counter, roll his shirt even higher on your body, and use you like a proper domestic wifey you are.

— You did the laundry?

He slips right behind you, hands on your waist. It’s a gesture that cannot be mistaken for anything other than affection – and you get stiff immediately, not sure of what to do. He hopes you’d be a smart girl and won’t defy him. He doesn’t have patience for brats right now – no matter how adorable they might look. You take a deep breath and release it, relaxing in his hold. He squints, a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. What a boedient thing you are.

— I did the dark ones, yes. I wanted to do the whites as well, but there wasn’t enough, so… You trail off, your hands shaking just a little bit. Nanami notices and leans on you a bit, pressing you against his chest. Your breath hitches again, panic evident in your body. He wants you to relax – and so he slips one of his hands across your waist, pressing you even closer to him. You have to get used to the heat of his body eventually. Nanami isn’t known for charity work and you’d have to pay him back one way or another – and currently, you only have one way of achieving this.

Nanami pressed his hand more firmly against your waist, squishing you between his body and the counter. You are forced to relax into his touch – with no way of getting out, it’s only obvious why you’d be this scared. Poor, dumb girl. No idea what is coming to her. — You washed my things as well? You put the dishes on the drying stand, wiping your hands with the nearest towel. There is a certain clumsiness in your actions – like you were trying to remember how to act properly on the go. Like you tried your hardest to be a perfect housekeeper without looking too desperate. Although he likes that air of eagerness around you.

— I wanted to do something for you, sir. While I can’t get a proper job. The little snag didn’t go unnoticed. Every time you try to convince him that you finally got some part-time position, something minimal wage and extra working hours, he will always say that working like this would be useless – that you need a real job if you truly want to build up your experience. After some time, you stopped even looking for openings, instead marinading yourself in your meager savings and looking after the house. Sometimes you wondered if he just wanted to get a free house worker – but then again, he let you live in this big house without paying rent or even groceries. The only reason you’re still here is because he is generous…and you don’t want to think about the reasons behind it.

Spending time around so many people with loud personalities, Nanami craved someone simple. Easy. Nice and quiet – and a girl who is too helpless to survive on her own is just that. Some people are not meant to survive on their own, and there is a certain dignity in relying solely on help from others.

He caresses your hands – you don’t understand why is he suddenly so affectionate after spending months not even bothering to learn your last name, but then you notice the smell of blood. Scratches on his hands. Something that smelled like wet dirt and metal.

You turn away, bumping your nose into his chest. Kento looks…disheveled. With his tie lost, a few buttons were torn off from his perfectly ironed – you ironed it just a few days ago – shirt that was now covered in soil and blood. He looks like he just got into a fight – with no indications of who was on the winning side. You weren’t sure where he worked exactly – something corporate, you think, some cushy position that allowed him to escape overtime and get home at 6 PM sharp every day. Corporate people usually don’t return home looking like something tried to chew on them.

— N…nanami, what…what happened? He sighs, rubbing his forehead. It seems like your question somehow irritated him – you don’t want to be like this, don’t want him to hate you. Yet, it’s almost like your worry is making him insanely angry somehow. You bite your lips, face scrunched in a worried expression. You don’t want him to die – or even just get slightly more injured.

— Got into an accident. There is nothing to worry about.

You’re definitely not buying it. Kento likes seeing you gushing over him – but knowing how anxious his little roommate can be, you’re certainly not going to let it go so easily. And he has no intentions of showing you the secrets of the world of jujutsu right now. If ever.

— You got run over?! — No.

— A dog attacked you?! — No.

— Oh. You were robbed..? He sighs, thinking of how he still hasn’t come up with an excuse. He should have – but the fight was hard already, and the energy he spent working overtime on that curse didn’t make anything better. He loves your worry and your kindness, but he can’t deal with it right now. Somehow, he has to divert your attention. Somehow, he has to take this comfort he wanted from you and your body.

— You’re wearing my shirt.

Your eyes widened, heat spreading across your face. He sees that he has successfully distracted you – your hands are coming to cover yourself immediately, tugging on the wrist of the shirt as if trying to see if he is right. Seems like you really didn’t notice you were wearing something that belonged to him. God, what a dumb thing you are. What did he do to deserve such a blessing? You take a step to the side, trying to escape the trap of his hands – but Nanami is not having it. With a grunt, he is forcing you in front of him again, making sure you’re set here, nice and comfortable. Trapped close to him – like he’d ever let go of someone as precious as you. He might be a lot of things – a workaholic, an extremely tired individual with love for useless and dumb sunshine girls, but he is not stupid. Letting you go now will only increase the gap between the two of you – and not even in a sense of age.

— I’m…oh. I’m really sorry, sir, it must have been mixed in the laundry and… He snorts. The sound is weird, alien to someone like him – you look up, surprised he even bothered to listen to you. You really got him acting so weird…it’s almost an achievement. Somehow, you don’t feel like you won something.

— You didn’t even notice it was too big?

— I have some oversized clothes. — Something that your ex left you?

You find yourself wordless at the accusation. It doesn’t sound too weird at first – but the harshness in his voice is making you shiver. His hands are on your waist again, holding you in a gesture that can’t be platonic – and this is the first time he paid so much attention to you. You feel uncomfortable. You feel desired, somehow. Nanami smells of blood and you find yourself aroused at it. Are you really that weird of a person? Fighting the urge to press your nose in his shoulder and breathe in his musk, mixed with blood, sweat, and that wonderful perfume he is using? The scent of which was traveling with you the whole morning ever since you took the shirt out of the laundry. Did you truly not know it was his? Somehow, you aren’t so sure now.

— I…I guess I just wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry, sir, I will…

You insist on calling him “sir” despite your age gap being not that terrible. He couldn’t be your father – yet he has this aura about him that makes you a bit afraid. Just a little nervous whenever he raises his voice or hums disarmingly. You don’t want to disappoint him, anxiety filling every bit of your existence when you think about this – he is doing so much, he has serious work and all you do is gush over housework and trying to play a role you were not made for. Never thinking how hard being a housewife might be.

— You’re going to just take off it now?

You freeze in place, not sure of how to answer. Nanami chuckles. You don’t want him so close to you, touching you like you’re in love – but he is hurt, stressed and covered in blood. He is lonely man, you can understand this – who else would invite a girl to live with him because he spends so much time working outside of the house, he’d disappear for days on end and someone had to take care of the house? if he had a partner then, surely, you wouldn’t be here. It must be hard, for someone like him – but he seems so nice, so hardworking, despite the initial strictness…why is he single?

You don’t feel comfortable with his chin resting on your shoulder, but you’re forcing yourself to relax. He had such a hard day, and he is still hurt. You might as well indulge him a little.

— I don’t think it would be polite.

— Why not?

His hands slowly unbutton the lowest part of the shirt, the one that is hanging way below your stomach. He is not revealing any skin – but the feeling of his calloused fingers even through the fabric is a bit much to handle.

— I’m a guest at this house. Wouldn’t want to embarrass the owner, right? His hand goes to grasp a few more buttons, making you stiffen. You don’t…don’t particularly want his hands in that area – almost under your chest, with a single brush of fingers enough to make you feel hot. Throbbing. Enough to make you question everything you know about him and…other things. You want to be a good guest, to not overstay your welcome – but it seems like the lines are getting more and more blurry each time. — I wouldn’t mind seeing you without it. — I’m really sorry I took it without asking you…

— You can get punished for it later. But…

Nanami presses his mouth on your neck, inhaling your scent. You smell like him – his cologne, his shower gel, the fabric softener he uses for his shirts, all the expensive things he knows you don’t have money for. You’re relying on his kindness and, well, he can be kind…if you’re willing to be good to him, of course. Good, obedient, and pretty girls deserve their rewards, after all. He has the perfect idea for just the one right now. You whimper when you feel his lips on your skin, when he nibbles on the sweet spot at the back of your neck. It can’t be mistaken for normal affection now – not with the way he keeps unbuttoning your shirt until there is barely enough to cover your breasts. His hand lays on your stomach, warmness spreading across the skin…there isn’t a lot you can do now. Your thoughts are mixed now, not sure of what to do to make him stop or to let him keep going. — Nana…no, Kento, I’m not really sure about… — Quiet, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes, okay?

You sigh, allowing him to just…touch you. Get sated with the feeling of your body in his arms – you don’t know how much time had passed, but he just rubs soothing circles into your stomach and breathes, occasionally peppering your neck with kisses.

You want him to go further.

You want him to stop. Maybe, it was just a few more minutes. Maybe, he took his time – you on;y woke up from that hazy, dream-like state when he suddenly yanked the rest of your shirt off, revealing your braless chest to the cold air of the house. You wanted to cover yourself – but your slow motions didn’t do you enough justice, as he easily grabbed your wrist in one of his hands.

He kisses you again, and you move your head to the side to meet his lips. You don’t know what you want – you want to help him, to make his worries go away, but he is still smelling of blood and rust and you’d like to draw him a bath first. Maybe take care of him there. Maybe grab your things and run even though it would mean you’d be homeless. You can feel his erection pressing to the curve of your ass and you move involuntarily, sliding up and down – maybe in an attempt to escape, maybe in an attempt to allure. You want for him to say something, to command you to do something – be more forceful, be more kind, make everything better, and then do it much, much worse. You sigh, trying to just…

The phone is ringing.

You manage to read the name. You wonder who the hell is Gojo Satoru. — I apologize for this. – Nanami whispers in your ear, getting away from you. Still keeping a hand on your waist, holding you down as firmly as possible. Not that you have any strength left in your legs to go anywhere. You’re waiting for Nanami to finish the call. Something is telling you that he just found a way to make you pay for staying with him for so long.

#nanami x you #jjk nanami #nanami smut #yandere nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento nanami #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami

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tan1shere · 2 months ago

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could you maybe write something fluffy and smutty about honeymoon/wedding night sex w billie? if you are in a request mood

Forever Love

A/n: Most certainly my kind anon !

Warnings - smut ! || masterlist

Giggles fill the small hotel room. Both yours and Billies as she carries you bridal style, plopping you on the soft bed. It had only been a day ago since the wedding and you had gone to Paris for your honeymoon. Well that was just the first stop for a week, then you'd head over to somewhere tropical for another week. Both of your smiles were glued onto your faces, the happiness radiating off of one another. "I love you." She says kissing all over your face.

You giggle as her breath tickles your skin. "I love you, so much more." She shakes her head. "Uh uh. Me." She climbs ontop of you, trapping your body. "I'm sure it's me." You fire back. "Why don't we put it to the test hm?" Her face comes incredibly close to your own. And it was clear where this was heading.

"I still love you more." Her fingers travel down your body as you say that. She keeps quiet, sneaking her hand under your dress and landing it on your thigh. Her taunting manner brings your nerves up. When she looks you in the eyes, slowly going down your body. Her warm lips were on your thighs. "I'm gunna love you til you're screaming." Your eyes widen, even more so as she bites the flesh on your thigh. A moan slipping out.

Her finger moves to your entrance, touching the thin fabric. "Can feel you throbbing." She groans as she sucks marks on your thighs. Your head lulls back, already feeling amazing by your wife's tongue. Your brain couldn't even process her words as she takes your underwear off. "All for me to devour." You hadn't seen this side of Billie yet, and you were loving it so much. She was feral, acting like a female dog on heat. This woman wasted no time at all in latching her lips onto yours. Sucking and licking like she craved you. But she did.

She always thought you were tasty in so many ways. You were like a drug to her and she just couldn't get enough. Not to mention how she felt seeing you walk down that isle, the dirty thoughts came alongside the loving ones. She just loves you so fucking much. And she was definitely proving that now. Your hands move into her hair gripping as her pace quickens. Your head still far back into the pillows as she laps at you. Your back soon arches wanting more of what she was giving.

"So greedy." She mumbles against you, earning a sweet whimper from none other than you. You knew you had lost this fight, even though she knew how much you loved her. She always had to show you who wins, she always was competitive. And she definitely won when you entered her life. She couldn't be more happy, not to mention when you said yes the day she proposed. She truly won in life. You were her work of art, trophy. And the way she'd worship you proved that.

Her tongue was relentless, as you soon feel that coil about to snap. "Mm fuck!" You moan out as the yummy feeling approaches. "Come on wifey, cum for me." And that's all it took, that single word was it, to make you burst right on her tongue. She always made you see starts. And she was so proud she could.

"I just made my wife cum for the first time."

Your brows furrow as you catch your breath. "But you always make me cum." Her face is directly over yours with a smirk.

"You weren't my wife then, were you?"

#billie #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish #billie eilish x reader smut #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x y/n

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sirenlulls · 1 year ago

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bad idea, right? → theburntchip

pairing , theburntchip x youtuber!reader

summary , where the much-mourned couple of the uk youtube scene reconnect

note , this is in aid of my wifey @whoetoshaw who sends the chip lovers in her inbox my way 🤭🫶

part two (get him back!)

yes, i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?!

[tagged: ynapparel , model1 , model2 , model3]

❤️ liked by theburntchip, freyanightingale, and 92,787 others

yourusername EEEE!!!! so happy to announce the launch of my clothing brand, y/n apparel (so original ik 😩💋) the official site will launch on the 21st of september & will bring you a wide variety of styles, from loungewear, to club dresses, to athleisure. i’ve been working on this for little over two and a half years now with my beautiful, creative, incredible, and innovative team. i love love love u all my fashion family @ ynapparel. and i love U!!!! for supporting me 🫶💗 looking forward to seeing u on the apparel account’s insta live as we greet and interview your fav influencers at the launch party x 🥰🥰

user the post hasn’t even been up a minute and chip liked ☹️😭

faithlouisak so so proud of you my babe. actually bawling 🥹🥹

yourusername luv u sm beautiful mama 🫶🫶🫶

thefellasstudios ayyyy! we better see some fire fits on the 21st 😮‍💨

calfreezy now i’m off the professional account, so proud and let’s hope you still remember how to throw a party because i cannot be seen at a stinker

yourusername won’t let u down calfreezy sir 🫡

taliamar baby’s all grown up 🥺 so proud of you my love i can’t wait to see the art you make 🫶

user talia are you crying be honest

georgeclarkeey can you get me a stylist i’m scared to be judged

yourusername i’ll get u set up in a gorg pink bodycon x

maxbalegde @ yourusername i reckon he’d pull it off

maxbalegde THATS MY GIRL!!! 😭😭😭 buzzing for you babes xx

gkbarry_ UGH! i’ll bawl i’m so proud of u girl ❤️

bambinobecky better be seeing you fashion week 2024

yourusername go big or go home ig 🤷‍♀️

user i wanna buy to support but i’m broke so what are the prices gonna be like?

yourusername me and the team tried to keep prices as low as possible but to make sure we were using ethical and durable means of production, we have to keep them pretty middle-ground. around £35/50 quid for the dresses but everything else is pretty diverse in price 💗

user just in time for me to get my winter wardrobe 🤭🥰

model2 loved working with you!! you’re such an angel 💗

yourusername awh my stunning girl!! you’re the sweetest thing & i look forward to working with you again 🫶🫶

[tagged: ynapparel , arthurtv , freyanightingale , zerkaa , gkbarry_ , faithlouisak , calfreezy , chrismd , stephentries , theobaker]

❤️ liked by geenelly, angryginge13, and 97,863 others

yourusername so so so honoured to have the chance to spend a night celebrating my passion project with the people i care the most about. i love u all a million more times than u could ever know. (ft. some very distinguished, very sloshed gentlemen in the last two slides 🥰)

ksi 🖤🔥

freynightingale that pic omg i’ll cry 😭 it was such an amazing night for such an amazing brand and such an amazing woman!! you deserve all the greatness you get ❤️❤️❤️

user mother is motheringgggggg

ynapparel 🩷🩷🩷

gkbarry_ you looked so gorg babe i wanted to take a bite out of you x

yourusername who’s saying you can’t 😩😩

stephentries you know it’s a good night when chrisMD gets his tits out

user losing my mind ur so beautiful

calfreezy NAHHH WHY DID YOU DO THEO LIKE THAT

miaxmon had an absolute ball!!! you looked incredible babe 🫶💋

arthurnfhill it was all fun and games until the karaoke came out to play

yourusername pretending it didn’t happen

user THEY INTERVIEWED CHIP ON THE IG LIVE

user OMG WHY DID HE SAY

user he looked like he was tryna keep it brief but he said he was so proud of y/n because he’s seen how hard she’s worked for this & she deserves it all 🥹🥹🥹 & he also called cal a bellend because he crashed the interview by slapping chip’s bum

[tagged: theburntchip]

❤️ liked by wroetoshaw, willne, and 1,021,363 others

yourusername can’t two people reconnect?

comments on this post have been restricted.

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comically-blu · 30 days ago

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Welp now that I did brainstorm ideas as I worked on stuff, art and irl…. I’ll say one thing; PW!Shermie is well loved here.

As I may had implied in the Portal! Shermie au post, Ford and Stan actually get to learn to work together. They even have a much earlier reconciliation arc. They even actually agree on reworking on the portal!

Them when the best older brother “with a lot to lose in life” gets accidentally flung into portal cause they brawled:

So yeah, Stan and… Bill (to his own plan) actually convinced Ford to rework on the portal. Just the power of love and family, basically. (It’s more like “we will fight bill together” with Stan twins and “I’m responsible, I’ll fix this” with Ford). Though, that may be pointless anyway since Shermie does snag stuff like a Time cop’s device and that portal took hella time to be reworked? Idk if this even makes sense

Oh also for the whole cover-up shibang, Stan goes by a fake name

While Bill is elated about this that this branch of the timeline would be doomed, tricks do come into clutch: Shermie does his own work within the years he is escaping from Bill, even he meets allies like the Oracle. There’s also Fiddleford, in his cult leader era, who gets included in helping Stan & Ford, so this is a mystery trio au- not very peaceful, there’s the Stan twins vs Fiddleford & the Blind Eye Society arc (the cult are practically antagonists like canon) (edit: no error happened here shhh)

Shermie’s wifey Penelope and Eddie (Mr. Pines) would be playing a part— Eddie probably might come to Gravity Falls more in this au, as a 17ish y/o teen to his mid twenties (25) when Shermie comes back. Like his future kids (Dipper & Mabel), Eddie will be looking into secrets behind his dad’s disappearance.

So this timeline is still fine with the possiblity of a good ending. probably. ;] Funny how the brother between two conflicting brothers pushes them get along together, huh?

#gravity falls #rambles #gravity falls au #portal pwtl #portal!shermie pines #pinewoodsaltl #shermie pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #bill cipher #penelope woods pines #mr.pines #some art here #mystery trio #sure wonder if anybody came up with a outcome like this #like ford actually considering to take back his bros #this has been in my mind for too long so I had to reveal this

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rip-quizilla · 1 year ago

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Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench.

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.”

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities.

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?”

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.”

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along.

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?”

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected.

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands.

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.”

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck.

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness.

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more.

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs.

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face.

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.”

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?”

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans.

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud.

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid.

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man.

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip.

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on.

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk.

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting.

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip.

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message.

I’m serious.

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color.

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap.

I’m fine with it if you are.

Putting bats on my forearm.

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing.

I’m more than fine with it.

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you.

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear.

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other.

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them.

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?”

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom.

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission.

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this.

This looked like fear.

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide.

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously.

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce.

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?”

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor.

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand.

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand.

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle.

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.”

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off.

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.”

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you.

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal.

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved.

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low.

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?”

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.”

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway.

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing.

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall.

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar.

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism.

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it.

On Halloween, he could just be.

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer.

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license.

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie.

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set.

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout.

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable.

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you.

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him.

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life.

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy.

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second.

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you.

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?”

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.”

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart.

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?”

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction.

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it.

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking.

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap.

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.”

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles.

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine.

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.”

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?”

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?”

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room.

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be.

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing.

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled.

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out.

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.”

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.”

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.”

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis.

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped.

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like.

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now.

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel.

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message.

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins?

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on.

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze.

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie.

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire.

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again.

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine.

“Are you?” You heard him ask.

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?”

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz.

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line.

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous.

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…”

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?”

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.”

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke.

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it.

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way.

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all.

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat.

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours.

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day.

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear.

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question.

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.”

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled.

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles.

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too.

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did?

Ah, fuck it.

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.”

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.”

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?”

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before.

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out.

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere.

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped.

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you.

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked.

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him.

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Part 6

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #impossible to hate you #ithy #friends to enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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thesupreme316 · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write how the AEW guys would react to the reader playfully smacking their ass like Bucky did to Seth Rollins that one time (please include MJF hehe)

AEW Stars React To: Their S/O Smacking Their Butt

Pairings: MJF x Reader, Max Caster x Reader, Christian Cage x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader, Nick Wayne x Reader, Ricky Starks x Reader, Hook x Reader

Word Count: 750

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, here you are and i hope you all enjoy it. I should have another react post by tomorrow. lemme know what else yall want to see. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: none i think, suggestive content

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @eddie-kingstons-wifey @triscillal @batzy-watzy @sheinthatfandom @cassie0sstuff

I think this is the most I have ever written the word ass

MJF:

Mans would feel accomplished

Like that finally, someone has acknowledged his ass is on another level

We all know how much pride he takes in his ass just look at the edits on TikTok

If you do it in private, he will definitely laugh and try to slap your back

(Honestly he might twerk like a drunk girl)

If in public, he might be embarrassed or confused for a split second…but he’ll go right back to being arrogant

He’ll tweet about it, tagging Max Caster so he can get jealous

Will start wearing more tight-fitting pants so he can tease you more

Eddie Kingston:

Mans finds it funny but is always confused about why/how you do it before he can do it to you

Full-on laughs and cracks a smile when/after you do it

Now you two are in a competition to see who can smack the other’s ass more often

You typically drive-by slaps or wait until he’s reading/watching wrestling to slap it

He does it when you are on the phone or talking to friends

Eddie loves it because it’s y’all’s way of PDA or showing good vibes

I don’t think y’all would do it out in public like in front of fans

But the one chance you did…boi was he a mess

Christian Cage:

Christian would just stare at you with no expression

He was just looking at you as if he was saying “Really”

OR he’ll stare at you in an offended way

He’s surprised that you did it

“How dare you?”

I can totally see him “scolding” you

Says his ass is off limits and promises to “punish” you the next time you did it

To test your luck…you did it again…and let's say you couldn’t sit down for a good while

Nick Wayne:

Lil boi is so cute and he gets all shy

Immediately he blushes and gets all whiney

Face all red while saying

“I can’t believe you did that”

I think he would be too shy to smack yours back

Prolly would chase you around

Would stop after you smacked his ass twice more

Ever since then, he just accepted the smacks….with a red blushing face of course

Hook:

Nonchalant as a mothafucka

But to him, it’s a normal thing, so he doesn’t care

He just continues talking to his friends after he smacks yours as you walk away

To Hook…it’s equality

Mans just loves to have his hands on you in general

If you did it to him while y’all were in the ring…he would break character and laugh

The internet would have a field day with the clip, making it go viral

Now if you slap it extra hard, Hook would just simply pick you up and show you how a real master of the booty slapping arts does it

Ricky Starks:

Alexa…play Bongos by Cardi B

Like Hook, Ricky’s not fazed

In fact, he eats it up and then some

I can see Ricky just winking at you..and ever so gently…SPEARING YOU ON THE BED

He slaps yours back twice as hard

In public….he would pull you towards him and tell you all the things he’s gonna do to you

Particularly finds it funny when you continuously smack his ass while ya’ll are laying down

I def see it as a postcard or a couple Christmas card (merry smackmas)

Max Caster:

THIS HORNY FUCK

Would deadass put his ass out even further for you to slap again

“I can see you’re getting a little handsy”

Looks at you suggestively, probably would moon you

Probably would chase you down just to slap your ass back

If you do it in public, he’s throwing ass like a real one

OOOOOOO I BET HE WOULD LET OUT VERY LOUD AND EXAGGERATED HIGH PITCH MOAN

Which causes you to become embarrassed and swiftly leave the scene

He would at the rest of The Acclaimed and wiggle his brows…looking for someone else to smack his ass

bonus: I truly think he would be like Richard from Wasabi Productions (back from like 2011)

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagines #aew hook #aew hook imagine #eddie kingston #eddie kingston imagine #ricky starks #ricky starks imagine #max caster #max caster imagine #aew mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf imagine #aew nick wayne #nick wayne imagine #christian cage #christian cage imagine

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rom-e-o · 3 months ago

Note

We've turned thrifting into such a thing for the girls. Imagine if, after they get to know their respective Twins, they take on the task of FINALLY helping them clean out their old things they don't wish to keep. Lots of things need to be tossed. But there are still plenty of items that are still good and can be put to use. (There might be a few items the girls latch onto too.) The twins, at this point, are very familiar with monetary donations, but the girls take the opportunity to introduce them to another kind. The boys go with them to bring the boxes to the stores and bins and everything. These places aren't ENTIRELY new worlds to them, but it's been DECADES since they stepped a full foot into them.

I love this for so many reasons. One, it involves the girls sharing their passion with the men they love. They were deprived of the chance to do that for many decades (Oliver and Orin? Thrifting??? Not even if the planets aligned). Two? It allows the gents yet another opportunity grow from their past, but in a different way.

The Twins were misers - they walked the line between having nothing and overusing the things they did have to the point of them breaking/becoming threadbare. I can see them clinging onto some things too, from Isabel/Belle, or even their parents. It's not intentional - they get shoved into the back of a closet, like a physical version of the memories they shoved down and hide away.

We see a little bit of this in the film, when he gifts Jen's doll to Harry, and I love them doing this on a more official scale once the wifeys come into their lives.

They box up some items, and it takes a day or so. Wifey helps.

Then they go to drop things off. I can immediately imagine one of them bringing their items to the donation door, and the volunteer is like, "Oh, sir, that painting you're donating is lovely." If it's Adonis, I imagine it's some personality-less bird painting. Like something you'd see in a office lobby. Isabel loved birds, and it's from when they were trying to furnish a flat, but things kind of fell apart, and he just kind of ... grabbed stuff he thought she liked? (She did not.) He's like, "Oh, um ... you can take it, if you'd like."

"Really? Oh, thank you! My grandmother would adore this - she just moved to a new flat, you see. This will be her first piece of art."

And in that moment, the whole beauty of thrifting kind of clicks for him. the joy of passing things onto others.

Then there comes the part where they browse the store with wifey. We've established that they feel immense relief knowing their lovely ladies do appreciate antiques (heh) and don't just throw out furniture/decor that's half a year old. They know this, but seeing it in action is even more eye-opening.

"Oh, look at this vase! It would be beautiful for flowers - or as an umbrella bucket", "Darling, look at this sweater! Oh, you'd look so dapper in this. The knit is amazing quality", "Oh, records! Why don't we choose a few random ones, they listen to them tonight? See if we discovered some long lost treasure?"

#scroogeverse

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jupiterpiss · 4 months ago

Text

Battle of the Sexes!

Summary! Art and Patrick can’t seem to catch a sign of when they’re unwanted. Their stubbornness is what fuels their motivation to stick around. Similar to gum in hair, a massive fucking inconvenience. They rather shoot them selves than to be shooed away like pests. Unfortunately for them, Grace isn’t too fond of bugs.

Warnings! None :D okay maybe a mention of pregnancy and cheating. Nothing crazy tho. Not really edited. This is just the START of a series, more to come later :))

Being married to Tashi Duncan was hard.

It felt like a never ending tennis match, a constant racket race that pounded a ball back and forth across the court, forcing one another to run aimlessly to catch after a ball like a dog. It was senseless.

Humiliating.

It didn’t help that Tashi consumed every figment of her life either. If Tashi wasn’t playing ‘wifey’ at home, she was playing ‘coach’ on the court, and if they weren’t on the court she would change into ‘manager’ at work. It was a different suit, same design. It should’ve felt like prison, should’ve felt like the crashing of a thousand waves.

Maybe it feels like the sinking of teeth, tugging away at her flesh and licking ridges of muscle off her bones. It should’ve felt like death, and yet Grace couldn’t find it in her to leave.

In fact, she loved it.

Being married to Tashi was hard, but living without her was harder.

It was exactly why she didn’t prod too far into Tashi’s whereabouts in Atlanta. Why didn't she look twice when she saw her talking to Patrick, noses practically touching and hands softly caressing each other as they whispered things Grace would never hear. Not like she wanted to know anyway.

It was also why Grace never questioned who the father of their child was, didn’t even bother to ask when she found Tashi in the bathroom a month after Atlanta, worried expression tugged on her features as her teeth grinded the inside of her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” it was positive. Of course it was. She wouldn’t expect any less from Patrick ‘pull-out-it’ll-be-fine’ Zweig. Asshole.

Nonetheless she kept it together, kept their family together because she loved Tashi. Yearned for Tashi. And mama didn’t raise no quitter, so Grace stayed. Happily.

But Art and Patrick don’t stay out happily, not like she wanted them too. Of course they prod into their life, into their home acting as if a summer fling gave them the rights to being forever in their lives. Maybe Patrick had some leverage given his child and all, but Art? What the fuck did he have? It pisses her off, makes her blood red boiling hot when she sees the two, happier than two fucking peas in a pod looking at their happy family, from the outside in.

It was the reason why she meets them when they ask to have dinner, just the three of them.

“Why can’t we make this something? Hm?” Patrick waves his fork between her and them, quizzical expression in place. She feels like smacking the shit out of him.

“Why the hell would I want that?” She argues, scowl contradicting the two other men’s expressions.

He only makes her more pissed with a curt, “Because.”

It makes her scowl grow nastier, “Because?”

Her eyes squint, fire in her irises as her brows pull together in a way so similar to how Tashi would it almost makes Patrick sick. Must be a couple’s thing.

“You fucking shitting me? Because?” she mocks the way he says it, almost childish in her antics but she doesn’t care. It was a childish response on his end anyway.

It doesn’t take long before Art chirps in, knowing that if he lets Patrick take the reins they wouldn’t get anywhere.

“Look,” he leans in, “This isn’t just about Tashi, as much as it looks it. This is about you too,” he reasons, eyes sincere as he holds her gaze, “We want you too.”

She scoffs, “This isn’t about me being potentially jealous of not being a choice if that’s what you’re thinking,” she decides to match Art’s position, leaning in just as close to the two, “I’m not letting you two fuckwads ruin my god damn marriage. I won’t. Just cause you want us both doesn’t mean shit.”

There’s a pause, a half of a second where her eyes flicker between the two, gaze intense and imitating in a way that forces both men to cast all their attention onto just her.

“I alreadly let one of you fuckers in,” she casts a gaze towards Patrick, looks away before she can notice that stupid lazy smirk appear on his features, “I’ll be stupid to let you both. Fuck off and stay the fuck away from my family.”

Her chair screeches against the ground, a harsh metal against tile as she stands up, expression pissed as she looks down to the two. She takes in their respective reactions to the matter, Patrick still holding his infamous smirk though it holds less charm and more defeat, a contrast to Art’s clenched jaw as he stares right back at her. A challenge.

She’s too tired to nip at it though.

“Have a good one,” she gives them a half assed grin, a barely there smile before she looks at Patrick one more time, “See you at pick up. Remember Lily’s toothbrush.”

With that she leaves. Leaves both of them sitting there, blood boiling and teeth scraping at their inner cheeks.

“Fucking bitch.” Patrick snorts at Art’s grumble.

#idk what to tell ya #challengers #Tashi Duncan #patrick x tashi #tashi duncan x oc!fem #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art x patrick #art x tashi #Patrick x fem!oc #art x fem!oc #battle of the sexes! series #challengers fanfic #epilogue

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youremyheaven · 5 months ago

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U GUYYYSSS storytime:

So I got talking to a guy a little while ago and we vibed realllyyy well. He's lowkey the textbook definition of everything I'm looking for in a guy. He's 6'2, well to do (not rich but does veryyyy well for himself), BULKY BROAD SHOULDERED, Venusian etc

The synastry of our charts is insane 🥵 He had Mercury atmakaraka (remember my Mercury DK?? 😌)

He has a Venus Moon and stellium and he's the most Venusian guy I've ever met,,, he LOVES beauty, art, the female form etc and appreciates it. The way he spoke about it was so hot to me ngl,,, mf was so poetic,, he really knew how to speak sensually without ever being creepy or vulgar

His Mercury AK was in Purvabhadrapada and he had a puppy like softie Jupiter guy personality. I loved the fact that he looked like a WWE boxer (bulky af 🥵) but had the personality of a golden retriever. LITERALLY ALL MY DREAMS seemed to be coming true.

I knew his birthday but not his rising sign. Yk what they say about "if something's too good to be true, then it is" ??? yeah, i just couldn't brush off the feeling that something wasn't right. But I couldn't straightaway ask for his birth time, esp since he's Hindu and will know what's up 🤭😂 ANYWAAAYYYS we're talking and everything and this man is love bombing me HARD and I know it because:

a) I'm a retired love bomber myself

b) This is not my first rodeo

and anyways this 🧔🏻 is talking marriage and babies, he's calling me wifey 😭 (kinda cringe bc he's known me for dayyys but good lord handsome men can get away with anything 😤) and he refers to himself as "husband" 😭😭😭 like "husband's proud of you" and "your husband doesn't want you to apologise" 😭 (ew but he's hot 👉🏻👈🏻) and I let myself have my delulu moment and try to give him the benefit of the doubt bc literally he checks every box 🥹and he's soooo completely fond of me. We used to run in the same circles like 10yrs ago, even though I had no idea who he was and never interacted with him then, he told me that he remembered me from back then and thought I was cute 🥺 and later I took a looooong break from social media and he told me he'd wondered where I was all those years 🥹🥹and then I apparently showed up in his "suggested for you" on IG a few months ago and he instantly recognised me and followed me etc 🥺🥹 he's been tryna hmu for monthsssss now but I was with my ex 🤡and then I was recovering from my ex 🤧 so I didn't pay much attention to it. When he told me all this, it kinda made me melt 🫠 how he kept trying to talk to me even though I repeatedly ignored him etc

And he did everything right. I could text him rn and he'd reply in 5 seconds. He always asked me how I was, remembered things, always sent me like 20 different messages until I replied, showered me in compliments (Venusian men love to pour you with their attention, it can even be annoying lmfao) etc like there was nothing in his behaviour, his tone or his words that was giving me 🚩 he genuinely seemed sweet, caring etc and he loved babies 😩 and sent me videos with his nieces and nephews (man's was manipulator pro max) but YK ME 🤪 when I have a gut feeling ☝🏻 I can't ignore it 🤓 so I was very much waiting for the ball to drop and watch him fuck up somehow 💀 initially I felt sooo overwhelmed by all his love (bombing) that I felt like the bad guy for not reciprocating it or feeling that kind of "love at first sight" thing 🤡 BUT

one day he said "I can't believe I found you after 10 years, that means no matter where you are after another 10 yrs, I'll find you then as well" and I was like 🤨 I thought you wanted to marry me and make me your trophy wife 🧐 huh 👀 and he was all 😂😍haha yes ofc I'm just joking bbg 😍😂 but I knew there was more to it

Finally I got his birth time AND GUESS WHAT???

He's Hasta Rising 💀💀💀💀

Idk if you know already but I don't like Lunar men 🤡 and the minute I found out, I was SCREAMING bc 😭 why would God play me like that???? Put the most perfect guy, astrologically and otherwise, in front of me, I literally have him wrapped around my pinky and HE'S A LUNAR??? why God why 😭

But him & I had come too far for me to dump his ass for no reason 😬 (can't tell him it's bc the sus vibes I got from him was further bolstered by him being Lunar 🤭) so I was praying to God to give me an opportunity where he fucks up so that I can walk away 🚶🏻‍♀️from this situation before things get out of hand

AND GOD DELIVERED 😩

I was texting him the other day and he spoke about how he wants to spend as much time with me as he can before we go out to chase our dreams (move away from this city basically) and I was like 🤨so you're looking for a short term relationship?? And he was like 🥺 no never and I was like why tf would you say you want to marry me and have babies (1 boy and twin daughters 😭🤡💀) if you already know you cannot commit???? And he was like "because we could meet again in a few years and it would be nice to have this plan ready" 💀💀💀💀 HE ACTUALLY SAID THAT AKSKKSJSJDIID brother thinks my IQ is in the negatives bc WTF sort of explanation is that 😭 and i told him "this manipulation might work elsewhere but not on me, good luck tho, bye, I'm done here 💅🏻" and he went 180 and said "I'm so sorry, I was just trying to be funny, please give me another chance, all I meant is that we never know how things go so we can try to work things out but there's no guarantee, please I'm so sorry" 😂😂 and he called me like 3 times and finally said "Can we atleast still be friends? i can't lose you like this" AJSJJSJSJ THE AUDACITY 🤡💀🤡💀

but I just want to say thank you God for showing me his true colours and for giving me the opportunity to exit with grace and dignity and making him feel like a fool 😌✨

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hurrakka · 9 months ago

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Was playing MHR the other night and reached the section where I can fight a Royal Ludroth and a Mizutsune was on the same map and they started to tussle. My fiance was listening to me play while playing her own game (she was fighting a Somnacanth) and she was very confused when I immediately blurted and gushed that "Aww Leon and Sasha are wrestling!"

It took her a minute to remember the MHR art I showed her before that you did of them as MHR monsters, and it was even funnier because she was talking about how pretty the Mizutsune was and how it's perfect for Leon and then realized that's the monster I meant when I said Leon two hunts earlier. They are now permanently Sasha and Leon in my head thanks to you. And I've corrupted my wifey with that knowledge now too.

Funny how this was supposed to be a one-time chreon thing but the sasha brainworms so strong I just, had to include him there xD

#my art #sorry (not sorry) for spreading the brainworms dwkfjgh #no doubt turf wars is just a fancy term for mating dance #mizu just wanna smash #now im really REALLY tempted to replay stories 2

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celestie0 · 2 months ago

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Girl I was balls deep in my attempt to make fanart for u a couple months ago

Like I had the reference pictures collated and I sat my ass down and picked up an pencil with the intention of actually drawing something after ages

cause basically I became a lil sad cause I felt like I forgot to draw bc last year in school I took an external art subject and it didn’t occur to me that doing a hands on subject through distance study wasn’t the brightest idea

anyway that fucked me over and led to me dropping and taking up fucking legal studies 😭

Even though I’m a bit more STEM based I can still fw the wordy subjects but not this someone pls save me why am I being assessed on the bi cameral structure of parliament

saur yh I’m super lazy as is with anything so that situation just put me off drawing and art completely

congrats to me setting every world record for yip yapping and going off track

ummm yh for context it was like my 10th read through of the kickoff chapter 6 scene that compelled me to collate a bunch of reference pics that ranged from twitter smut comics to bathroom sinks and eventually I gave up because anatomy is a bitch

I changed into a dress with the same type of neckline I think reader was wearing bc of the way it tucks under her boobies and I was this close to just shamelessly positioning myself in front of the mirror to make my own references

then ofc I got distracted by a half baked portrait of Rose from titanic that I drew when I was like 15 and ended up drawing a two hour long remake of the same picture

only for my friend to tell me it looks like Mary Shelly’s ghost

Should I know who that is

To be fair it looked nothing like her but I mean it was an improvement from thinking all my ability just went poof and I drew better when I was 15

never the less I was somewhat disappointed with the product and I haven’t drawn since

wait I wanna show u actually lemme try

https://share.icloud.com/photos/0edTRG9Tb54pRh9Qe5unszRrg

the Mary Shelly in question

do these links work I’m scared I’m gonna accidentally leak personal details or my whole camera roll lol

also IM NOT AN ARTIST don’t judge me peeps I’m just a girl idek how to drive yet

I feel bad every time I send an ask I feel like I’m force feeding u Ellie babes u have the patience and commitment of a saint

also OMG IF YOU MADE ART FOR ANY OF MY FICS I’D SOB!!!!

I want to 😞🫶 but alas prospect of fanart from me will most likely never see the light of day

that crack scene in ihm was tempting tho everything u write is just so visual

♥️ mwah my gorgeous gorgeous writer wifey

hellooo my dear PLS the ramble of this ask is legendary and i found it very entertaining xD

ouuu the dress that reader wears in ch6 of kickoff is actually based on a dress that i own, here's some pictures of it!! i'm curious if the dress you have is similar!! but yea this is the official outfit reference hahah

looking at it now it's kind of a mild sweetheart neckline lol n yea def tucks under the boobs very nicely xd i was actually gonna sell it on depop a couple months ago when i did a closet cleanout but i was like nahhh i gotta keep it bc it inspired that scene

taking your OWN reference pictures sounds so badass. and its ok babe it's the thought that counts haha <3 i feel u about the losing passion/talent in art thooo aaa i used to draw too but ehh hobbies fizzle

ahh i can't see the cloud photos :(( but anywho thanks for the yap my dear!! i ate it up. also side note but i'm so glad my writing comes off visual to you!! i always worry there's not enough description in my scenes so that's reassuring to hear. much love!

#spinster anon #in holy matriphony #kickoff #asks

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ventingfanfics · 2 years ago

Text

The Wrong Paper (Part 4)

AN: This just keeps going on and on! Thank you for the love xx.

Part 3 Part 2 Part 1

Shuri let you play whatever music you wanted as she drove into the city. She would even sing along to some of the songs. This side of her was rare. She seemed calm and positive. The Shuri you’d come to know had seemed frustrated, overwhelmed, and paranoid. Not to mention her hallucination episode. Panty-gate was real. It wouldn’t be farfetched to say you were driving her crazy. There was also her marriage.

All of that motivated you to kind of back off. You’d be lying though if you’d said you hadn’t missed her too. Her kisses had made you feel like you were suspended in the air. And her touch was cosmic. Also, she was a passionate lecturer. She cared about her students and lit up when they took an interest in the lessons.

The newness of the museum made it exciting. Everything looked shiny, polished, and put-together. The service was also on point. You and Shuri took photos of art that stood out to you. Shuri encouraged you to pose in some of the shots, too, and you returned the favor.

By the time you left, it was raining outside. Shuri purchased an umbrella off the street and held it over your heads as you both hurried to a nearby restaurant.

“Get whatever you want,” Shuri said, looking at her own menu.

“Don’t say that, I’ll order half the menu.”

At that, Shuri looked up at you with a smile. “So you’re a woman with an appetite.”

You matched her expression. “Only for good food.” This resulted into the topic of your favorite and least favorite foods.

“She’ll have half the menu,” Shuri told the waiter.

Your mouth opened in shock. “Very funny.”

“You weren’t serious?”

“No!”

You gave the waiter who looked entertained your order. When the waiter left having took both of your orders, you addressed Shuri with a shit-eating smile. “What was that?”

She smirked. “It’s not a problem if you wanted half the menu, Y/N.”

“Why’d you have to put me on the spot like that?”

She just laughed.

“This menu is pages long…” You added.

“I see it.”

Three hours later you were yawning, to which Shuri said, “let’s get you home.” The long day and itis kicked in. She reclined the passenger’s chair so you could rest more comfortably.

“Wake up, pretty.” Shuri lightly shook you. It was only when she squeezed your nose that you budged. This earned her a protest and glare. Groaning, you stretched and got out of the car. Shuri followed you to your door. “Did you have fun?”

You hummed in the affirmative, unlocking your door. “Thank you, Shuri. Did you?”

She smiled. “Definitely. I’m glad you came.”

“Don’t let wifey hear you say that.”

“You had to kill the vibe.”

You shrugged and looked at her with an “it is what it is” expression. Her mood turned sullen but that didn’t stop her from hugging you. “Good night, entle.” Her embrace was long and comforting. When it ceased, she looked at you deeply. It was like she wanted to say something or do something more. It was sexy, no doubt, but you knew she wouldn’t dare.

“Go to your car, girl,” You said, playfully pushing her.

When you went inside, you hopped in the shower, trying to work off the arousal you just experienced. Shuri had these moments where you sensed she wanted to be bold. Those eyes suggested that she wanted to take you. You were positive that if she hadn’t had a wife she would have tried to come inside your home and fuck you expeditiously.

You didn’t understand her limitations of kissing on you, letting you know that you were affecting her, and now taking you out. She might as well go all the way and get it out of her system.

Will you wait for me?

Why did that turn you on?

You observed that Shuri got her bounce back in the classroom. She was in a good mood during the lesson, which you couldn’t deny was nice to see. She wore this suit that fit her nicely, like it was custom-made—most likely that was the case. She looked so elegant and pretty yet had some masculine tendencies, like how she unabashedly sat with her legs open.

You noticed quite a few of the girls and women in the class watching her like a hawk. One day you would have to ask Shuri what it was like to stand in front of people every day who had hungry eyes when they looked at you.

“Okay, now for some exciting news,” the Wakandan professor said. “We will be launching Design clubs, which means you’ll have extra time to work on projects with each other or anyone in your network. I have sign-up sheets for your area of interest…” She went over the details and then arranged it so one row at a time could come up and sign their name.

It all sounded interesting and you knew this would boost your resume and portfolio. When it was your turn, you noticed Shuri smile at you before returning her attention to a student who she was conversing with.

“Miss Y/L/N,” she called as you proceeded up the aisle to return to your seat. You turned around to look at her inquisitively. She motioned for you to come over to her. “You only put down for one day?” You just looked at her and she continued. “I was hoping you’d be one of the ambassadors.”

“Down the line,” You said honestly.

She frowned. “This is a big opportunity, Y/N.”

“I know. Can I ease into it first?”

She looked at you searchingly and nodded. “Of course. I already know you’re going to do amazing.”

For the rest of the period, Shuri allowed you all to begin to exchange ideas and plans for the clubs.

Scotty was right there waiting for you patiently as you packed your things. Since you’d been conversing with one of your classmates, you’d gotten a little held up. You started speeding up your ministrations.

“Take your time, love, ” Scotty said to you.

You smiled at her and she smiled back. The two of you cutely averted your eyes. Your gaze landed on a brooding Shuri. You furrowed your eyebrows as if silently asking her what’s wrong.

“You okay, professor?” You spoke up.

Scotty followed your gaze, turning her head. You raised your eyebrows with a shit-eating smile when Shuri ignored you.

“Come on, Scotty, let’s go,” You said a touch louder than necessary. “The pettiness is real.” You heard Scotty let out this surprised little giggle as she walked with you out of the classroom. “Am I lying?”

“No, you’re not lying. That was petty,” Scotty agreed. “I know she heard you.”

“It’s okay, though.”

“She probably did that ‘cause I was there. I don’t think she likes me much.”

You looked at Scotty, a little taken aback, but not showing it. “Really?” She looked back at you, nodding. “What makes you say that?”

Scotty chuckled. “Just a hunch.”

You stopped walking and she did the same. You eyed her closely. “She hasn’t said anything to you, has she?”

She shook her head no. “Just mean-mugged me in the cafe.”

“Wow. For no reason?”

“For no reason. I don’t even know her.”

“I’m sorry, Scotty. You don’t deserve that.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t care.” She laughed some, spreading out the pockets on either side of her jacket with her hands.

“You let me know if she says something to you or gives you another look, okay? I mean it, Scotty.”

She gave you her word and the two of you continued on your path. You stopped for lunch and then went to her house where she cared for her mother. After she tended to her mother, who was a kind woman, she joined you in her own room, where you both laid on your backs on her bed, listening to Kendrick Lamar in your ear buds.

The music was interrupted when your phone notified you that you were receiving an incoming call. “Shit,” you hissed, seeing Shuri’s name pop on the screen. You ended the call and looked at Scotty who was relaxed and staring at you.

“Everything okay?” She asked.

“Uh-huh!” You chirped and your phone started ringing and vibrating again.

“You can answer it, it’s okay,” Scotty assured you.

You nodded. “Let me just see what she wants. Can you put a movie on?”

She agreed and was about to ask which movie you wanted to see but stopped when you answered your phone.

“What were you going to say?” You asked your companion, putting your phone down. When she somewhat shyly stated her question, you smiled and told her to surprise you. You put your phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Y/N, how are you?” Shuri said.

“Good, you?” You said dryly.

“Fine. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your question earlier when you were trying to see if I was okay. That was rude of me.”

“It was.”

“Do you forgive me?”

You hadn’t expected that part.

“I don’t know. What’s with you giving innocent people dirty looks?”

“…Huh? What are you talking about, Y/N?”

Scotty who’d been scanning content on Hulu looked at you with her mouth ajar. You winked at her.

“My friend Scotty. You’ve been giving her stank looks?”

“Y/N, it’s okay…” Scotty said, trying to stop you. You shook your head.

The other end of the line was quiet for what felt like a while.

“Hello?” You pressed.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Shuri finally said. “Since you brought her up, let me ask you this.” She paused. “Is she the reason you don’t want to take advantage of the Design club?”

You twisted your face. “What do you mean?”

“I am asking if you’d rather lallygag with her every day instead of do something productive towards your future.”

Scotty suddenly looked protective, watching your reaction. You were baffled to say the least. “What’d she say?”

You smiled at her and told her you’d be back. She got up to follow you. “No, please, stay there. It’ll only take a minute.” She huffed but complied, calling out a “wait!” and giving you her jacket in case you got cold outside.

“Y/N?” Shuri called as you hadn’t said anything.

“I’m here. Where do you get off saying that to me? Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s a simple question, entle.”

“No, it’s not! You were taking shots, implying that I don’t care about my future—which couldn’t be more false—and then accusing my friend of being a bad influence!”

The line was still quiet, though you didn’t mind continuing anyway. “For why, though? You don’t know what we do, how we spend our time when we’re together and newsflash, your little club is not my only option. Stop being petty and jealous, it’s not a good look on you, and leave Scotty out of it. She doesn’t bother anyone.”

Shuri spoke after another pause, unsure if you were done sticking it to her. “I’m sorry I care about you and your choices, sthandwa.”

“Well, you need a better way to show it! Knowing you, you probably created this club as a way to…you know what? Never mind. It ain’t even worth it.”

“No, continue. Say what you were going to say, pretty.”

It was annoying how calm she was being and using all these pet names. “No, just forget it. I said what I had to say. Leave Scotty out of it.”

“You keep talking about Scotty, but I want to talk about you…what were you going to say?”

Knowing she wasn’t going to let it go, you exhaled. “Knowing you, you just want me to be in this club so it can cut my time with her.”

“Mmm.” You tried to ignore how sultry that sounded. “So in other words, so I can have you all to myself.”

“Yes,” you grumbled.

“Well, it’s not just you in this club,” she sounded amused. “However, yes, I do like that it would give us more time together. Any Y/N time is good.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Call me when you’re ready, so I can make it up to you.”

“Whatever, Shuri.”

When you returned to Scotty’s room, her eyes glued to you.

“Hey,” you said, offering a light smile.

“Hey,” she repeated.

“I’m sorry about that. I had to set her straight.” You sat next to her and she looked engrossed in thoughts. “You alright, love?”

She nodded lightly.

“I can tell you have something on your mind. Say it.”

She pressed her lips together inwardly before looking at you. “Are you seeing Professor Shuri?”

Part 5

#professor shuri #shuri udaku x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri x reader #shuri black panther #shuri x you #shuri alternate universe #shuri fanfiction #shuri x woc!reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri x f!reader #shuri fanfic #black panther fandom #black panther fanfiction #shuri imagine

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